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pprodsuga · 9 days

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walk the line | jongseong

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

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

genre: lawyer au

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Still, his days wane between fulfilling and empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake laughs. “You, Park Jongseong.”

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

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

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

“Whatever you say, captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, that’s what Jay does best.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn straight.”

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

“It’s about the Hybe Records case.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay nervously runs his hand through his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s the music industry for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Sunghoon says. “Which one?”

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

“We trust them, right?” Jake asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay swears he sees Sunghoon blush.

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

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

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

Jay said no.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Jay.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, wow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “Right this way.”

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

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

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

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

“You know Kim Y/N? The Kim Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t try anything.”

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“This office is pretty nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that make me?” you joke.

“It makes you the best in the universe.”

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

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

“Most days, I just need a friend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We won’t be long,” Jake assures.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heeseung–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay abruptly opens his eyes.

“That is not what I meant.”

Heeseung smirks. “Sure it wasn’t.”

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

“You can still make time for her now.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung seems to know you too well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pray tell.”

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

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

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

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

“Do your parents speak English?”

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

“Your brother seems like a cool guy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that, Jake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would Jay apologize for the night he left you?

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The aforementioned blushes. “That would be amazing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for a friend of Jay and Heeseung!”

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

“He got back a few minutes ago.”

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

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

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

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

Riki’s face beams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good to know.”

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

You smile.

“Let’s win this goddamn case.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, here you are.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

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

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

“Am I really that bad?”

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

“Shit,” Jay curses.

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

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

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

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

“Oh,” you say, startled.

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

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

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

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

“You look stunning.”

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

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

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

He’s surprised when you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s no tension.”

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

“Don’t bring interns into this.”

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

“My mojo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And now?”

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

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

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

“A butterfly?”

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

Jay bites his lip in contemplation. Jake continues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay quirks his eyebrow. “Speaking of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he mumbles.

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

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

“What about it?”

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

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

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

“He sent the rest here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sure about this?” Jay asks.

“We’re positive,” Sunoo confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay’s eyes widen. “With me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always flattered me too much.”

“Why stop now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds like quite a peaceful life.”

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

“Yeah, it really is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like your style.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?” he asks timidly.

“What’s up?”

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

You smile at him. “I’ll make time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, you could always take it again.”

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

“Testing used to be my greatest enemy.”

“What changed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungwon smiles at you.

“I think I will.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s like you read my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay’s eyes soften.

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

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

“Jay–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Nothing is going according to plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you stay here with me?”

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

One, two. Click.

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

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

“Is she okay?”

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t.

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

“Thank you,” Jay breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Take care.”

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

Dearest Brother (Korean cell): Open up!

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

“Namjoon,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay is a tattletale.”

“Did he lie?”

You sigh. “No, he didn’t.”

“What’s on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

“Well, we can’t control how we feel.”

“He hurt me, Joon.”

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

You think about it. “No, he hasn’t.”

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

“Yes,” you say without hesitating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

“Where are you going with this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about him?”

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

“I don’t know what to say.”

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

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

Namjoon laughs. “You wound me.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m bad at this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I am.”

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

You struggle to get back to work.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod against him. “It’s the best.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holding you feels familiar. It feels like coming home after a long, tiring day at the office to the person he loves the most. Having you in his arms after all this time has Jay rethinking his future and where you fit in it. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s ready to risk all that he has if that means seeing you as happy as you are in this very moment.

You whine when Jay’s lips detach from yours but he smirks into your skin when he hears a soft moan coming from your own upon placing his just below your ear. He thinks how his younger self would’ve killed to hear the sounds you’re making right now and how lucky he is that this opportunity is being granted towards him. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself and that’s all Jay could ever ask of you.

Your hand creeps below his shirt until your nails are raking his abdomen and you moan when you feel the ridges on his body. He sighs against your neck and you’re left speechless at how his physique has changed since the last time you saw Jay shirtless. The ache in your belly leaves you wanting more and you arch your body until it feels as though you’re completely giving into him before pressing your palms against his body.

You two kiss with fervor as the minutes go by. Suddenly, Jay feels your body beginning to rock yourself on his lap as your lips find his own. He feels you tug on his shirt until you push it up his neck, breaking contact with him so that he can pull his shirt off completely.

Your lips feel like heaven against his own skin as you begin to explore every inch of him. He feels you peppering kisses along his jawline and closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of your body so close to his. Jay lets his hands roam around your waist and when you don’t move to push his hands off as his fingers dip beneath the shirt you’re wearing, he smiles to himself and lets his fingertips push the fabric upwards just slightly. The feeling of his hands on your body has you rocking forward until your chest is in front of Jay’s face. You gasp when you realize how hard he’s become underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” Jay begins to apologize. “You’re very attractive.”

You look down and tilt your head, experimentally pressing your lower half on his crotch. Jay emits a low moan, making your mouth quirk in excitement.

“You’re very attractive,” you tell him, slowly rocking your body backwards and forwards.

You move to push Jay’s hands closer to your body and he gets the hint. He uses the momentum to push and pull you into him at the pace you set, watching as your mouth opens in euphoria. Jay finds it incredibly attractive the way your eyebrows pinch in arousal every time the tip of his clothed cock bumps your covered core, and if what you’re wearing is anything to go by, he was correct in assuming you weren’t wearing shorts underneath his shirt.

Your pace quickens with every pass of his cock beneath you. He gets harder and harder, and you get wetter and wetter. Your own slick is rubbing against you from the fabric of your panties and it becomes almost too much to bear. Jay’s hands have found their way to your back as your own body pushes against his. He feels your tits pressing against his chest and the desperation in your hips as you gain momentum while he begins to take control from beneath you.

Jay bucks into you until you let out a particularly loud gasp. His strength surprises you, as does the force with which he thrusts into you. His clothed cock hits you at the most delicious angle while you’re fighting to stand upright against his lap, fighting to grip the couch and his body at the same time. Jay doesn’t let you breathe, however, until you’re pushing him away so that you can access his lips once again.

The kiss is wet and messy. It’s hot in the room and you’re pushing Jay’s hands until they cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples and watches in pleasure as you throw your head back.

“My baby likes that, doesn't she?” He pinches them again when you nod and it sends a shock straight down your spine and where you need him the most.

Jay lifts the shirt just enough to uncover your chest and brings your right bud into his mouth. He licks it with his tongue in an effort to tease you until you’re squirming in his lap. He does the same with the other nipple until you’re pushing yourself against his cock that he grunts and nips at the bud before sucking it with his mouth.

The pleasure is almost too good to form words. Your mouth stays at a permanent ‘O’ with every swipe of Jay’s tongue and he pushes your shirt until you take it off for him. He places his hands on your breasts and squeezes them in his palms as if getting to know your body better, almost like he wants to commit you to his memory.

But you’re impatient. After the long years of daydreaming about Jay, you want nothing more than to have him inside of you.

“Please let me have it,” you whisper against his lips, pushing your body down onto his. “I need it so bad, Jay.”

“We can’t,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to push his luck. “I-I need to drive you home.”

Not even he believes this pathetic excuse.

“I don’t care. Drive me home tomorrow.”

Jay doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He flexes his fingers to distract himself before giving in, placing his grip on your waist and pushing you down onto him. He hears you gasp at the sudden movement and chides himself for being so turned on by you when mere moments ago he was thinking logically.

“Just the tip,” you mutter against his mouth to convince him. “Please.”

“Just the tip,” Jay agrees, pushing his trousers just enough to free his cock. To the best of your ability, you take your panties off without moving from his lap and throw it behind him. He finally feels your pussy glide over him and throws his head back, feeling pure euphoria.

Jay’s cock is thick and long, and you feel it throbbing between your legs. The friction is too delicious to ignore, as is the wet sounds consisting of your arousal covering him. He lifts his head up to watch you bite your lip and look at him with desperation in your eyes. It’s the kind of expression he’s wanted to see from you for so long. Jay can only hope you know that this is how he looks at you.

It’s quiet in the room, save for wanton breaths and the sound of your own arousal mixing with his precum. It’s so erotic to see you as desperate for him as he is for you because he’s yearned for this moment for so long. Jay bites his lip with every pass as you hover above his tip and he tries his hardest not to buck his hips, instead allowing you to move at your own pace.

When you catch the tip of his cock inside of your pussy, the two of you let out an audible gasp at the sudden intrusion. His thick head breaches your fluttering hole as he grabs your waist to prevent you from moving when his tip is fully sheathed inside of you.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, balancing yourself on his hot tip. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Jay asks. “It does, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly and Jay kisses the side of your mouth before moving to your neck.

You keep yourself steady by gripping his shoulders that are hot to the touch. He flexes when your nails dig into him, causing you to moan at the sight. Jay feels the movement of your throat as he kisses your neck and grunts when he feels your pussy clench around him.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until your legs give out and you’re holding onto Jay’s neck as a silent plea for him to take over. He gets the hint, wrapping his arms around your body until you’ve fallen limp against his chest. Jay uses his leverage to slowly pull himself out of you before pushing the head of his cock back in.

The moan you emit against his ear makes him feel like the two of you are starring in your very own sextape. It causes Jay to jerk his hips unexpectedly and push another inch of himself into your pussy by accident. He’s about to apologize until he feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden intrusion.

“You’re so big,” you whisper to him. “S-So big. So good.”

“You feel fucking amazing,” Jay praises. “Such a wet pussy and I’ve barely done anything to you.”

You whimper at his words while closing your eyes shut and move your head until your cheek rests comfortably on his shoulder. The angle allows you to press kisses to Jay’s jawline and you do so until you feel him begging to thrust into you once again.

The tempo he sets is slow and delicious. He feels every drag as your mixed arousal coats the rest of his cock and Jay feels as though he’s found pure euphoria on earth, the kind that men search for but never seem to find. The shallow thrusts cause his mouth to hang open and his fingers itching to touch your clit, but he doesn’t want to move unless you tell him to.

It isn’t until you’re pushing yourself down onto his length that he speaks again.

“Baby,” he warns. “I thought–”

“Changed my mind,” you tell him desperately. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Jay nods. “I want to. Fuck, I want to.”

You kiss him hard before pushing down on him. “I just want you.”

Jay’s body falls limp when he feels your body glide up and down his cock like you’ve trained your entire life for this very moment. He sees the sweat building between your brows and licks his lips at the way your tits bounce against your chest. It’s sensual the way you look on top of him. Jay brings one of your nipples in his mouth and makes a home there as your hips begin to work his own.

His body feels like it was made for you to use. The desperation at which his own hips chase yours should make him feel embarrassed, but he feels like a lovesick fool. In this moment, everything he’s ever wanted to say to you lies in the power of his thrusts and the way his lips move with yours. It makes him feel like there’s nothing in this world that could take you away from him.

He pushes himself up until you’re clinging onto his body for dear life. The sounds you make push him even harder against your body, drilling his hard cock within you until you’re moaning like somebody’s filming you. It’s all too much for Jay to handle, and he’s glad he feels you come undone before him.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moan out, clenching against his cock as it works your body until completion.

Jay pulls out and finishes on your ass just after you’ve come down from your own high. You jolt when you feel his come on your skin but move to kiss him as the two of you come down from your respective highs and he feels your heartbeat against his chest, smiling into the kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he tells you between kisses. He tries to speak but you silence him with more pecks. “Let me clean you up, yeah?”

Your heart feels warm. You nod and let him pry your body off of his, carefully laying on your stomach so that the couch doesn’t see the mess Jay created. He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and his trousers zipped up before wiping you clean. The rag is tossed onto the floor as he pulls your body towards him, wrapping your legs around his torso, and pulling your lips to his once more.

“Stay the night?” he asks you.

“That was my plan, but I’m glad you brought it up before I did.”

Jay pinches your thigh and hears you laugh. He could die like this.

“Since it’s a weekend, I think you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jay kisses down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, gliding his lips along your stomach until they’ve reached just below your belly button.

“Oh? And what is it you’re promising, Park Jongseong?”

Jay smirks up at you from where he’s positioned.

“I have an idea in mind,” he says coyly, moving his mouth to press a chast kiss on your slit. “It has a lot to do with my mouth and my fingers.” Your body arches when Jay’s tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit.

“I like the sound of that. Would you let me return the favor?”

“Only if you cum on my tongue twice.”

You push his face into your core.

“Better get a head start.”

*✧･ﾟ─��───────── *✧･ﾟ

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yanaromanov · 1 month

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pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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totaly-obsessed · 2 months

Text

Nerves

Alessia Russo x reader request

-> Reader navigates the uncertainties of her career, academic studies, and the pressures of her first senior England camp, finding solace and comfort in her relationship

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As a female football player your future career was not guaranteed - one wrong step and all this could be over. Your dream and passion since childhood days could be over.

Anxious as you were, you decided to do something on the side, educate yourself further, and so that it wasn’t as far off from your day job, you had started to study sports science two years ago. The choice of study had been made quickly, after all, you couldn't imagine a life away from the pitch.

Alessia, your girlfriend, stood fully behind you - ready to drive you to the few in-person lectures you had. The blonde would do anything for you. Washing dishes, doing the laundry, sweeping, cooking? One little smile from you and the housework-allergic striker turned into a housewife.

Being called up to your first-ever senior England camp had not been in the plans. Sure it was always something you thought about, especially when Less left for the camps, but you never thought that you would make it this far.

Your girlfriend however had a feeling that you would join her this time - and she was proven right when Sarina called you. The blonde jumped up and down in celebration, pulling you up with her. But once she saw the tears streaming down your face, you were in her strong arms, ready to dry them with her sweater.

The weeks leading up to camp were anything but relaxing - one exam after the other. And they wouldn’t stop for a couple of days either.

Alessia had been watching you wear yourself thin, most days were filled with practice, media, recovery, and games. Nights were spent studying methods to reduce the risk of sports injuries and strategies for rehabilitating injuries when they occur as well as analyzing the social and cultural aspects of sports participation, organization, governance, and marketing.

If the half-Italian was honest, she didn't understand most of the things you were reading about. Making one flashcard after the other in desperate attempts to get it in your head as she watched the circles under your eyes darken.

The day you left for camp she had been hopeful that things would change from now on. You were out of the comfort of your home, confronted with new and old acquaintances and friends.

But of course, it didn't go as planned.

“Are you sure that you even have a girlfriend, Less?”

You had barricaded yourself in your room for the third evening in a row, trying to prepare for the last exam as well as you possibly could.

“We’ve been over this Tooney, just a few more days!”

The following Monday Alessia had woken you up early, shaking you softly as a paper stuck to your cheek. You had fallen asleep on the desk, and by the look of the untouched bed, this probably wasn't the first time either.

“Buongiorno amore mio, è ora di svegliarsi!” Time to wake up? No that couldn't be.

But a glance at the watch on the wall confirmed your girlfriend's words, you really had to get up now. “Thanks, Lessi.”

A soft peck on the lips later and your girlfriend was willing to help you get ready, or rather gather your things and pack your bag while you were in the bathroom.

The car ride to your Uni had been peaceful. Just you and Alessia. It hadn't been like that for a while as you were always studying.

“I’m sorry for being a shit girlfriend lately, Less.”

The blonde's head snapped over so fast that you couldn't even blink. “Don’t you dare say that! You’ve been such a good student, and after this, I won’t let you go that easily.”

“Less, eyes on the road!” your clumsy girlfriend had filled with sudden rage at your guilt, headed straight towards a tree on the side of the road.

“Whoops.”

Alessia could see an immediate difference in you when you sat down in her car again. You felt happier. Not a single word was lost in regard to the exam when it had been all you could talk about before.

While you felt freer you still looked and were incredibly tired, something even Tooney could see, who had been excited to get your lively person back. She missed her go-to person when Less was boring and wouldn’t run around like a crazy person with her.

So when you refused to play darts with her, clinging to your girlfriend on a couch, she was incredibly disappointed.

“C’mon, I just got you back - play with me before you go back to fucking London!” But the brunette's whining just earned her a shove from her best friend.

“Leave us alone Ella.”

A whisper went through the room, everyone quietly watching as they glared at each other while you snuggled deeper into Lessi’s neck, desperate to sleep.

“No fair! You have her all the time!” She looked like a little kid whose toy had been taken away. And in a way it had been.

“I don’t care Ell-”

“Okay, off Ella!” It was Mary who pulled the angry chihuahua off Alessia's legs and now pointed up at the stairs, “You two, upstairs!”

The blonde didn’t hesitate and stood up, careful not to jostle you too much as she made her way up the stairs. Ella could only watch, mouth wide open, as you waved her goodbye, your head resting on your girlfriend's shoulder.

“You brat!”

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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lale-txt · 1 year

Text

what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Kid, Killer, Law, Mihawk, Shanks, Benn

a/n: look who is clearing out her drafts again while working on a longer fic! i love writing little headcanons, they help me get into a nice writing flow and are just super fun to think about. those here are both fluff and spicy, so be aware. reader is gn!

Kid

seeing you walk around in his shirt when it’s laundry day on the Victoria Punk

the warmth of his hand in yours when you paint his nails for him after he lost his arm, unfazed by his bickering when you’re doing a messy job

you keeping him company in his workshop when everyone else already went to sleep, studying blueprints while he tries to focus on the thing he’s working on but failing miserably in your presence

the way you look at him when he tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your lips

how hungry you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips after his cheeky tongue wracked your whole body with pleasure

the shiny red shapes of his hand on your ass cheek and your needy mewls for more

whispered confessions with every thrust, your hands cradling his face as he fucks you through your orgasm, melting in lust and adoration

Killer

hearing you humming in the kitchen, cooking a surprise meal for him

your fingers untangling his hair at night, gently combing out every knot without hurting him

your laughter when he tries to put on the polka dot shirt that got way too small

the way your gaze softens when he takes off his mask for the first time in front of you

your lips parting so willingly for him when he leans down to kiss you in a moment of bravery

his lipstick smeared on the inside of your thighs, leading dangerously close to your aching core

the way you twitch around him as you ride him, eyes closed as you chase your high, his fingers digging in the flesh of your thighs

Law

your hands brushing when you hand him a cup of coffee in the morning, knowing he was up all night again

you falling asleep on the couch when you both study in the library together, admiring how you let down your guard around him

hearing you mumble out his name in your sleep

patching you up after a battle where you fought back to back, just blind trust into each other

thinking back about the heated kiss you two shared when you thought it all was over and you wouldn’t see tomorrow

you straddling him in his chair, asking for permission to do it again in the safety of his arms and realizing those are the lips he wants to kiss for the rest of his life

seeing those lips wrap around his length for the first time, holding hands while you make him see stars and a future so bright in the absence of fear

Mihawk

the faint smell of your perfume when he enters a room you’ve been in before

watching your hands rolling out dough in the kitchen, covered in flour, a vinyl playing in the background, veggies from the garden on the counter

how you handle the knife, not for fighting but for creating something beautiful and heartwarming from scratch with patience and compassion, something he admires deeply

the way your eyes linger on him in a room full of people, making him feel like it’s just the two of you

stolen kisses after glancing at his lips for too long, tasting his wine on them

your delicate wrists in his grip when he pins you down on them above your head, legs spread wide open for him

the way you sigh his name when he enters you in one go, a big smile on your face, your eyes so full of love and lust

Shanks

standing outside the bar and hearing your voice from from the inside as you chat and laugh with his crewmates, Benn nudging him a little with a look

how you yawn and mumble out a ‘good morning’ on your way to the bathroom, in your underwear and sleepdrunk, because you spent all night visiting him in his dreams

the way you tilt your head and smirk when he takes the bottle of wine from your pretty hands and takes a sip, lips touching where yours have been seconds before

you shutting him up with a kiss when he teases you for too long, your hand in a tight grip around his collar

the same hand pulling his hair when he pushes you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing his clothed cock against your core

feeling how soaked your panties are when he reaches to pull them aside, your needy mewls soon to be muffled with them

Benn

the way you cup his hand to help him light his cigarette, your faces awfully close

how you muster him up and down and your cocky smile when he asks if you like what you see

standing side by side outside and watching the rain fall while the rest of the crew is having a banquet inside, just a quiet moment between you two

you reaching for his half-smoked cigarette, pleading eyes asking for a kiss

the same eyes looking at him through long lashes when he unbuckles his belt

your shaking legs on his shoulders as he makes you count out loud the times he makes you cum with his fingers alone

your broken voice begging him to fill you up, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from pulling out, nails leaving red trails on his back

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #shanks x reader #trafalgar law x reader #mihawk x reader #benn beckman x reader #eustass kid #op killer #trafalgar law #red haired shanks #dracule mihawk #benn beckman #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #one piece headcanons

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xmalereader · 7 months

Text

ID Leon Kennedy x Teacher! Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: This sat in my drafts for months and didn’t even finish it properly 😭, but oh well. In order for the ages between Sherry and Leon to make sense it would have been RE4R Leon instead of ID Leon, but fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy this trashy draft!

Summary: Leon is in need of a teacher for his daughter, Sherry and is recommended one of the best homeschooling teachers.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of family, slight age gap, Sherry needs parents, single dad leon, language, homesickness, really short, mentions of Hunnigan and the DSO, mentions of Claire and Chris, Infinite Darkness Leon.

Word Count: 3.2K

—

He always wanted to be a preschool teacher, teaching young kids and watching them grow. He had a way with kids he knew how to talk to them and interact without making them uncomfortable. He grew up in a household with six sisters, he was the only boy in the family and took majority of his time raising his own sisters while his parents worked to maintain them. He never hated it, he enjoyed taking care of his sisters, learning how to do their hair, take them shopping, finding out which clothes fits best with what shoes.

His sisters knew that his dream was to be a teacher one day and to teach younger students, after he graduated high school he quickly went to college to get his proper degree, spending day and night studying and getting his work done. Passing tests and finally reaching graduation, only for everything to crumble.

He’d applied to many schools and was denied. Not because he wasn’t educated enough but because he was a man who wanted to teach young children which caused many schools to be suspicious about him. He had a clean record and showed no signs of trouble but that didn’t matter to them. His dream of being a teacher came crashing down to the point where he was close to giving up.

It wasn’t until he applied for home schooling, hoping to get something. It took him a few days to receive a call from a family who wished to have a teacher for there kids. After they looked at his records and file they quickly accepted him, giving him the chance to interact with the families kids and educate them. The kids he taught were between eight to ten years old, giving him the chance to teach different levels of education.

He was with the family for a year before the kids were officially sent to a public school, his time spent teaching the kids gave him hope in advancing only for the wife of the family ending up recommending him to one of her co workers. She told him that he was a single parent raising a ten year old daughter.

He didn’t meet up with this new client until a month later, giving him time to prepare for a visit and to meet up properly with his new student and parent. Y/n was given an address of where his new client lived, imagine his surprise when he arrives to a large house, big enough for a large family.

He was confused, checking the address twice to make sure that he was at the right place. Did a single parent really live here? Perhaps the job they worked provided them enough money to afford such a big house. He gives himself some time to allow his anxiety to subside before stepping up to finally knock on the door.

It only took a few minutes for someone to come to the front door, pulling it open to come face to face with the most attractive man he’s ever seen. Y/n can’t help but swallow nervously as he asks in a soft voice. “Mr. Kennedy?” He questions, hoping that this man standing in front of him wasn’t his students father.

“Yes, that’s me.”

Fuck.

“I’m Y/n.” He sticks his hand out for a friendly handshake. “You called about homeschooling your daughter, I believe?” He asks, shaking Kennedy’s hand before he was let inside.

“You were recommended to me by a co worker, she told me that you are good at teaching along with Interacting with kids.” His students father raises a brow, guiding him inside the house, giving Y/n the chance to look around the place.

“Yes! Martha was her name—“ he referred to the mother of his old students. “She told me very little about you, telling me that you are a single parent raising a daughter on your own and looking for a teacher.” The two end up in the living room with Y/n sitting down a little further away from Kennedy. “Mr. Kennedy—“

“Please, call me Leon. Mr. Kennedy sounds a bit weird to me.” He chuckled out.

“Right, Mr—Leon. Can I ask, why not send your daughter to a public school? I’m not saying that I’m a bad teacher I’m simply curious to know.” He didn��t want him to think that he was judging Leons decision of homeschooling his daughter, he was curious to know. Most families had attachments to their kids and weren’t ready to send them to a public school, others were concerned about there safety.

He watched as Leon sighed to himself, siting back in his own seat. “I took sherry out of a bad situation, took her under my wing and signed the adoption papers after everything. Her situation caused her to close up.” Leon began to explain, getting Y/n’s attention. “She’s open around me and a few friends of mine but she’s not great with strangers or kids her own age. I believe that it’s a smart decision to have her homeschooled until she is ready.”

Y/n nods along at his words, taking everything in. He’s never dealt with a child who has been through trauma, but he’s willing to accept a challenge and provide the proper tools to help. “Is there anything I should know about Sherry? Perhaps curtain things she doesn’t feel comfortable with?” His question catches Leon by surprise. He guesses that not people ask about his child’s worries.

“She doesn’t like needles or tight spaces nor the dark.” Leon starts to name off a couple of things. “She doesn’t like shouting, it scares her and sometimes she can freeze up.”

Y/n takes mental note of all of this, making sure that he doesn’t do or say anything that will cause the poor kid to panic. “I will make sure that I don’t put her in a tough position, I always want to make sure that my students are comfortable. I would like to meet with Sherry first, if that’s alright? I usually spend my first day getting to know my students before I officially start their studies.”

Leon was hesitant, eyeing him up and down before coming to a stand, nodding his head. “Yeah, follow me.” With that, Y/n comes to a stand and follows Leon deeper into the house. Guiding him down a hall towards an open door, Y/n makes sure to stay back as Leon steps inside, giving the door a soft knock to get his kids attention.

“Sherry, your new teacher is here to meet with you. Think you’re up to it?” Leon asks as the young girl gives him a nod as she stands from her desk chair, coming to stand by Leon’s side as Y/n enters the room with a soft smile. He makes sure to provide her enough space to feel comfortable with as he stands from afar.

He gives a small wave. “Hello Sherry, I’m Y/n.” He intrudes himself, holding onto the strap of his book bag as he swallows. Leon is watching him closely as he approached her. “Honestly I haven’t heard much about you, all I know is that your dad here wants me to be your teacher—“ his eyes avert towards her desk where he takes notice of a Microscope.

“Do you like science?”

That gets the kids attention.

“I know a thing or two about science, I see that you like doing on hands projects.” He continued. “Perhaps I can teach you a few things, what do you think?”

“Will I see real micro organisms?” Sherry speaks up, her voice high pitched but soft. Y/n smiles with a small chuckle. “Of course, you’ll be able to work on the real stuff. Perhaps we can see how many germs things have?” He suggests.

Sherry is quick to nod, finally opening up to him and claiming that as a victory.

“Do you want to see what I’m working on?” Sherry asks, walking back to her desk to show him her own work that she’s been doing. Leon gives him a reassured nod when he glanced over to him, being granted permission to get closer to her as he stands next to her desk, looking down at the different tools that she had. The material before him is worth hundreds, if Leon was able to afford all of this it made him question what he did for work.

Sherry went on a ramble about her discoveries, showing him everything and pointing out random things that she found. Y/n listens to her and asks a few questions here and there, the child showed high interests in science and it made him question how far up her educational level could be.

After spending a few minutes with Sherry under Leon’s supervision, he is pulled aside by Leon while Sherry is distracted by her own hobbies.

“She’s a good kid, fast learner too.” Y/n says with a smile as he follows Leon out of the room and into the hallway. “I want you to be her permanent teacher.” Leon blurts out getting Y/n’s eyes to widen. “Per—But I usually only teach for a year.”

“And I want you to be Sherry’s teacher. Look, I have met with many teachers and none have made her to open up like you did. She’s usually quiet and doesn’t speak, most of the ones I’ve met so far have given up on her but you haven’t. I saw the way she reacted, she’s comfortable with you and I’d like you to be her teacher. I’ll pay you double and would like it if you moved into our guest bedroom, I spoke to to the agency about your living situation and know that you still live with your family.” Said Leon, catching Y/n by surprise, opening and closing his mouth, not knowing what to say.

“Mr Kennedy—Leon, you don’t have to do that—“

“I insist.” Leon cuts in. “Sherry needs a teacher.” He’s pleading at this point that Y/n can’t resist the offer, sighing to himself he nods in response. “Okay, I—I want to teach Sherry. I just have to get some things packed up before anything else.” He says softly.

“Thank you.” Leon tone is laced with relief once his offer is accepted and is quick to show Y/n the guest bedroom and where he will be staying, letting him know that he’s welcome to come and go as he pleases that he was still free to do so since he was here to teach Sherry.

It felt weird for Y/n.

He was going to be Sherrys teacher that was also going to be living with her and her father, under the same roof. This was new to him and knows that he would have to get adjusted if he is to teach Sherry.

After Leon provides him a key to the place he lets him know that he can move his stuff in whenever he can, giving him the time that he needs with his packing. When Y/n arrives back home to his family he is bombarded with questions from his younger sisters, always wanting to know what kind of kids he will be teaching. Y/n answers his sisters questions with a smile on his face before they leave his side after he was done answering their questions.

His sudden smile faltering and going noticed by his mother who knew that something was wrong the minute he walked through the door.

“Something happen?”

His mother is quick to assume as his father rolls his eyes at her, but Y/n gives off a small shrug. “Well, I got the job but this parent seems persistent to have his daughter learn, he’s had many other teachers see her, but none were to her liking nor was she comfortable with them. She liked me a lot and her father wants me to move into their house until she is ready to go to a public school.”

He can see his mothers face shift into a sad one. “So, you will be leaving?”

Y/n nodded. He couldn’t always going to live with his family he was going to be twenty six soon and affording a place on his own was rough without having a roommate and with Leon’s offer he knew it would be best for him. He was getting paid to live and teach his daughter. This would be the first time he leaves the nest, finally being able to go somewhere that he can provide him the support, not only that but he was being paid double. “I’ll be fine, I can still visit.” He reassured her knowing how worried his mother will be when he leaves the house.

After his discussion with his parents, he gets their help on packing up a few boxes. There’s a lot that he leaves behind for them, letting them know that he already had the necessary stuff back at Leon’s house, not too worried about leaving stuff behind for his sisters to keep. He didn’t have much to pack and is quick to move into the Kennedy household in less than a day.

It felt odd using a key to a strangers house, his stomach filled with knots at the idea of coming home to someone else. His years being sheltered by his parents created anxiety along with fear of change, they were always together and it was finally his time to follow his own path.

His first night there was uncomfortable for him. The silence was new to him for many nights he would hear his sisters gossiping non stop until midnight, falling asleep to their voices and waking up to them arguing about who was going to use the bathroom before school started in order to get ready for the day.

He didn’t hear the sound of his sisters voices in the morning instead he woke up to the sound of silence. Leaving his room and heading to the kitchen where he finds Leon cooking his daughter, Sherry a decent breakfast. Y/n stood frozen, unsure of what to say or do only for Sherry to take notice of his presence and smile at him.

“Morning!” She calls out loudly, getting both Y/n and Leons attention.

Leon looks up from his cooking and gives him a small greeting. “Sleep well?” He asks while Y/n rounds the table, sitting down next to Sherry who bounced in her seat, excited to have him here. “A bit, I’m used to waking up early with the sound of my sisters arguing.” He chuckled out.

“You have sisters?” Sherry’s voice is laced with curiosity as she stares up at him with wide eyes. “Yep!” Y/n smiles at her. “Six to be exact.”

“Six?!”

Y/n laughs at her small outburst. “That’s a big family.” He hears Leon say, finishing up on the cooking and serving them all their own plate. “I’m the only boy in the family.” He blurts out, taking his own plate of food and thanking Leon, staring down at the nicely well cooked breakfast.

“And you? Any siblings?” He suddenly asks Leon.

“Only child.” Leon answers, sitting across from the two as he focused on eating his food.

“I’m guessing its just you and Sherry right?”

Sherry speaks up before Leon could. “And Aunt Claire and Uncle Chris.”

Y/n knew that Leon didn’t have any siblings, it’s possible that these aunts and uncles of Sherry’s are close friends of Leon’s who he’s claimed as family. “You must love your family, a lot, huh?” He chuckled at Sherry’s bashful smile as she goes back to eating her breakfast, finally giving Y/n and Leon the time to talk.

“Can I ask, if its not a problem, but what do you do for work?” Y/n is quick to shove food in his mouth, keeping himself distracted with something.

“Office work.” He answers with no hesitation, feeling Sherry’s eyes on him, knowing damn well that what the man did was not just any ‘office work’ she knew that his job was dangerous and was lying to keep them safe.

Y/n’s eyebrows raised in surprise, another question coming to mind but keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to bother the man any longer. “Oh? I expected something totally different.” He chucked out nervously, clearing his throat and finishing up his food before rushing to the sink to keep himself distracted with the dishes he is currently washing.

“You don’t have to wash those.”

Leon speaks up from his spot on the dining table but Y/n is quick to cut in. “I want too, besides if I am to be living here to help teach Sherry, I might as well and be decent and do my own dishes. Let alone any chores I have of my own…” He mumbled softly before focusing back on his task in hand and setting the wet dishes aside to dry.

Leon chuckled to himself, knowing that he shouldn’t argue back with his daughters teacher. “Very well,” he states, turning to Sherry and giving her a soft kiss on the head after he finished his own breakfast. “I have to head out.” He announced, getting the young girls attention. “How long will you be gone this time?” She pouts out.

“It’s only for a day, Claire will come by to stay the night.”

“Will uncle Chris be with you too?” She questions.

“Yes, both Chris and I will be out for the day. So, again, Claire will come by tonight after your schooling is done.” Leon promises, watching his daughter frown at his words. He knows that his job is dangerous and is sent on long missions, he’s spoken to Hunnigan about wanting to spend more time at home, which is why she tasked him with the shorter missions. But, even those felt too long for Sherry.

“It’s only for tonight.” Leon reassured Sherry who gave a curt nod, pushing her unfinished plate aside before leaving the dining room. Leon knows how stubborn she becomes when he is needing to leave for a mission, Y/n on the other hand didn’t know how to deal with the situation, the tension building up in the room as he quietly moves around the kitchen, distracting himself from what he witnessed.

Y/n looked around frantically, looking for something to do, something to clean but Leons kitchen was already clean. The man kept it clean for him and his daughter, after cooking breakfast he had cleaned up his own spills and washed the dishes that he’s used all expect the pan that he was rushing to clean in order to run away from the awkwardness that filled the room around them.

Leon had been staring towards the direction that Sherry disappeared too, sighing deeply and standing up straight. “Let me know if she causes any trouble.” He speaks up, getting Y/n’s attention and the teacher nods. “Of course…” He whispers softly and watches Leon leave his own house, giving Y/n the chance to sigh in relief once the tension disappears.

It was only his first day and had no idea how react to this change and instead focused on finishing up his cleaning and get started on Sherry’s schooling.

#Leon Kennedy x male reader #male reader #resident evil #resident evil x male reader #Leon Kennedy #ID Leon Kennedy #teacher AU #male teacher reader #one shot #drafts #Resident evil x reader #Leon Kennedy x reader

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

Text

The FTC has Big Pharma’s number

On November 27, I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

The most consistent bright spot in the dark swirl of US politics is the competence of the Biden Administration's progressive enforcers: people like Rohit Chopra, Jonathan Kanter and Lina Khan, who keep demonstrating just how far a good administrator can go. Anyone can have a vision, but knowing how to execute is the difference between hot air and real change:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

Take a minute to contrast Biden's administrators with Trump's: Trump's administrators had an ideological vision just as surely as Biden's do, and Trump himself had a much more pronounced and explicit ideology than Biden, whose governance style is much more about balancing the Democratic Party's blocs than bringing about a specific set of policies:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

But whatever clarity of vision the Trump administration brought to DC was completely undermined by its incompetence (thankfully!). Apart from one gigantic tax break, Trump couldn't get stuff done. He couldn't deliver, because he'd lose his temper or speak out of turn:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/14/when-youve-lost-the-fedsoc/#anti-buster-buster

And his administrators followed his lead. Scott Pruitt was appointed to run the EPA after a career spent suing the agency. It could have been the realization of his life's dream to dismantle environmental law in America and open the floodgates for unlimited, wildly profitable corporate pollution and pillaging. But the dream died because he kept getting embroiled in absurd scandals – like the time he sent his staffers out to drive around all night looking for a good deal on a used mattress:

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/epa-s-pruitt-told-aide-obtain-old-mattress-trump-hotel-n879836

Or his insistence on installing a CIA-style "Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility" (SCIF) so he could play super-spy while reading memos:

https://www.cnn.com/2018/04/26/politics/epa-administrator-scott-pruitt-sound-proof-booth-scif/index.html

Or the time he sent his security detail to the Ritz-Carlton to demand that they supply him lots of little bottles of his favorite hand-cream:

https://www.vox.com/2018/6/7/17439044/scott-pruitt-ritz-carlton-moisturizing-lotion

There were other examples in the Trump administration, but Priutt is such a good case-study. He's like a guy who spent his whole life training to compete in the Olympics, and finally got a shot, only to be disqualified for ordering too much room-service in the Olympic Village. Priutt was wildly ambitious, but he was profoundly undisciplined – and wildly incompetent.

Compare that with Biden's progressive enforcers and agency heads, who showed up on the first day of work with an encyclopedic knowledge of their administrative powers, and detailed plans for using them to transform the lives of the American people for the better:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

The Biden administration's competence translates into action, getting stuff done. Maybe that shouldn't surprise us, given the difference between the stories that reactionaries and progressives tell about where change comes from.

In reactionary science fiction, we enter the realm of the "Competent Man" story. Think of a Heinlein hero, who is "able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyse a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly."

In Competent Man stories, a unitary hero steps into the breach and solves the problem – if not single-handedly, then as the leader of others, whose lesser competence is a base metal that the Competent Man hammers into a tempered blade:

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Creator/RobertAHeinlein

Contrast this with a progressive tale, like, say, Kim Stanley Robinson's Ministry For the Future, where the Competent Man is replaced by the Competent Administration, in which people of goodwill and technical competence figure out how to join forces to create population-scale architectures of participation that allow every person to contribute their skills and perspective:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/03/ministry-for-the-future/#ksr

The right's whole ideology insists that the world can only be saved by Competent Men. As Corey Robin writes in The Reactionary Mind, the unifying factor that binds together conservative factions from monarchists to racists to Christian Dominionists is the belief that a few of us are born to rule, and the rest to be ruled over:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/25/mafia-logic/#mafia-logic

The Reaganite insistence that governments are, by their very nature, incompetent and malign ("The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I’m from the government, and I’m here to help'"), means that conservatives deny the possibility of a Competent Administration.

When conservatives take office and proceed to bungle the most basic elements of administration, they're fulfilling their own campaign narrative, which starts with "We must dismantle the government because it is bad at everything." Conservatives who govern badly prove their own point, which explains a lot about the UK Tory Party's long run of governmental failure and electoral success:

https://apnews.com/article/uk-suella-braverman-fired-cabinet-shuffle-7ea6c89306a427cc70fba75bc386be79

There's a small mercy in the fact that so many of the most ideologically odious and extreme conservative governments are so technically incompetent in governing, and thus accomplish so little of their agendas.

But the inverse – the incredible competence of the best progressive administrators – is nothing short of a delight to witness. Here's the latest example to cross my path: the FTC has intervened in a lawsuit over generic insulin pricing, on an issue that is incredibly technically specific and also fantastically important:

https://www.fiercepharma.com/pharma/ftc-blasts-pharmas-abuse-fda-patent-system-sanofi-mylans-insulin-monopoly-lawsuit

The underlying case is before the FDA, and it concerns the dirty tricks that pharma giant Sanofi used to keep Mylan from making a generic version of Mylan's Lantus insulin after its patent expired.

There's an explicit bargain in patents: inventors can enlist the government to punish their rivals for copying their ideas, but in exchange, the government demands that the inventor has to describe how the invention works in a detailed patent filing, and when the patent expires, 20 years later, rivals can use the patent application as instructions for freely copying and selling the invention. In other words: you get 20 years of exclusive rights in return for facilitating your competitors' copying and selling your invention when the 20 years are up.

Pharma doesn't like this, naturally: not content with 20 years of exclusivity, they want the government to step in and punish their competitors forever. In service to that end, pharma companies have perfected a process called evergreening, where they dribble out ancillary patents after their initial filing, covering minor reformulations, delivery systems, or new uses.

Evergreening got a moment in the public eye earlier this year, with John Green's viral campaign to shame Johnson & Johnson out of using evergreening to restrict poor countries' access to TB medication:

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/john-green-part-1/

The story of pharma is that it commands gigantic profits, but it invests those profits into medicines that save our lives. The reality is that most of the key underlying pharma research is publicly funded (by Competent Administrators who apportion funding to promising scientific inquiry). Pharma companies' most inventive genius is devoted to inventing new evergreening tactics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/19/solid-tumors/#t-cell-receptors

That's where the FTC comes in, in this Sanofi-Mylan case. To facilitate the production of generic, off-patent drugs, the FDA maintains a database called the "Orange Book," where pharma companies are asked to enumerate all the ancillary patents associated with a product whose patent is expiring. That way, generics manufacturers who make their own version of these public domain drugs and therapeutics don't accidentally stumble over one of those later patents – say, by replicating a delivery system or special coating that is still in patent.

This is where the endless, satanic inventiveness of the pharma sector comes in. You see, US law provides for triple damages for "willful patent infringement." If you are a generics manufacturer eyeing up a drug whose patent is about to expire and you are notified that some other patents might be implicated in your plans, you must ensure that you don't accidentally infringe one of those patents, or face business-destroying statutory damages.

So pharma companies stuff the Orange Book full of irrelevant patent claims they say may be implicated in a generic manufacture program. Each of these claims has to be carefully evaluated, both by a scientific team and a legal team, because patents are deliberately obfuscated in the hopes of tricking an inattentive patent examiner into granting patents for unpatentable "inventions":

https://blueironip.com/patents-that-hide-the-ball/

What's more, when a pharma giant notifies the FDA that it has ancillary patents that are relevant to the Orange Book, this triggers a 30-month delay before a generic can be marketed – adding 2.5 years to the 20 year patent term. That delay is sometimes enough to cause a manufacturer to abandon plans to market a generic drug – so the delay isn't 2.5 years, it's infinite.

This is a highly technical, highly consequential form of evergreening. It's obscure as hell, and requires a deep understanding of patent obfuscation, ancillary patent filings, generic pharma industry practice, and the FDA's administrative procedures.

Sanofi's Orange Book entry for Lantus insulin listed 50 related patent claims. Of these, 48 were invalidated through "inter partes" review (basically the Patent Office decided they shouldn't have allowed these claims to be included on a patent). Neither of the remaining two claims were found to be relevant to the manufacture of generic Lantus.

This is where the FTC's filing comes in: their amicus brief doesn't take a position whether Sanofi's Orange Book entries were fraudulent, but they do ask the FDA to intervene to prevent Orange Book stuffing because "improper listings can cause significant harm to competition and consumers."

This is the kind of boring, technical, important stuff that excellent administrators can do. The FTC's brief is notice to the FDA that it should amend its procedures to ban (and punish) Orange Book abuse. That will make it possible for you, a person who needs medicine, to get that medicine more cheaply and quickly. In America's pay-for-use privatized healthcare hellscape, this could be a life-or-death matter.

There's plenty of things the Biden administration is getting very, very badly wrong, but we shouldn't lose sight of how its progressive wing is making real, lasting change for the better. Competent Administrations are the true peoples' champions. They beat Competent Men every time.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/23/everorangeing/#taste-the-rainbow

#pluralistic

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7-wonders · 8 months

Text

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business.

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off.

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes.

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!”

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.”

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.”

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though.

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?”

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask, “Will you carry me?”

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.”

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman #the sandman imagine

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rosieofcorona · 5 months

Text

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down.

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again.

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning.

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others.

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep.

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone.

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark.

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people.

No trees, no light. No sky.

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them.

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness.

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday.

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else.

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before.

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep.

It starts the same way every time.

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself.

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light.

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet.

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.”

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection.

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.”

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes.

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest.

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has.

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.”

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him.

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.”

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.”

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking.

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible.

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.”

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.”

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.”

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct.

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.”

“Like this?” “Like that.”

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned.

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch.

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved.

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin.

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.”

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his.

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance.

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.”

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always.

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.”

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold.

A focus worth holding, at last.

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says.

“None at all.”

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this.

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

395 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 1 year

Note

I have an aemond targaryen x reader fic idea in mind for ya! what about an aemond x fem!reader in which the two have always had a close friendship with each other since they were children, similar to alicent and rhaenyra's (reader would, of course, be the daughter of rhaenyra). the two would ride on dragonback together and do things childhood friends always did. although, that friendship crumbles after the terrible night that aemond lost his eye and the day reader is named heir to the throne.

years later, reader returns with her family as queen and with her dragon in tow. aemond and her reunite. not once did the two ever forget each other, aemond spent days and nights thinking of his best friend while reader dreamed of seeing the wonders of the world with him, maybe even more.

slight angst, fluff and smut pls? 💜💜💜

(also, I know her being queen probably doesn't make sense timeline wise but...yeah!)

Everlasting love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This One Shot Story was requested by the wonderful @chainsawsangel💜

And is at the same time the steamy Aemond one shot as a thank you for 1000 followers 🖤

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, soo.. please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: 18+ NSFW

Word count: 5.8 k

Other stories of mine

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You came into this world on a warm and radiant summer day. The sun shone brilliantly above, and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone echoed in the distance. You were the first precious offspring of your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your father, Laenor Velaryon. Thankfully, the birth went smoothly, and just a few days later, your family returned to King's Landing.

You were born not long after Aemond Targaryen, the second prince of the realm. The two of you were said to be very close as infants. Aemond was quite a restless baby and needed a lot of comfort, which often kept Queen Alicent up at night. To give her a break, Aemond was placed in the care of nurses. However, they had great difficulty calming him down and simply got used to the constant crying.

Rhaenyra was deeply pained to witness the suffering of the newborn baby, who also happened to be her half-brother. Unable to bear the sight any longer, she devised a plan to ease his distress - by placing you, a peaceful and attentive infant, in the cradle with him.

She gently placed you next to Aemond in the cradle. At first, you felt a bit annoyed when you saw him, but Aemond's crying immediately stopped. He became interested in you and studied you closely, eventually even giving a small smile. Rhaenyra was pleased to see this and watched over the two of you with contentment. And thus, the two of you rested together in the cozy cradle.

As you rested in your cradle, nestled alongside two dragon eggs, the space felt a bit snug. But every time someone tried to take one of you out of the cradle, the other immediately started to cry.

When you were just six years old, your dragon egg finally hatched in the comfort of your cozy chambers. As you sat by the warm fire, you kept the egg close to ensure your new companion would feel just as snug as it would have with its birth mother.

As you were quietly flipping through the pages of a book, you heard a sudden cracking sound. At first, you assumed it was just the sound of the wood in the fireplace. But the sound repeated itself, followed by a piercing scream that filled the air.

Startled, you looked up and saw a small dragon facing you. You cried out with joy and hurriedly crawled towards the egg. A guard came in because he was startled by your sudden cry. But you paid no attention to him, you were overjoyed. You helped your dragon to free himself from the egg. You broke down the hard shell to make it easier for her to come out. You held out your hand to her and she climbed up. The joy on your face was evident and didn't fade away.

You carried the dragon in your arms and went directly to Aemond's chambers. He was overjoyed for you and enamored with the tiny creature.

You two spent the whole evening saying "Dracarys", hoping it would breathe fire, but nothing happened. You giggled incessantly. When Rhaenyra came to put you to bed, you both persuaded her. You wanted to sleep in bed with Aemond and your dragon with you. Your mother was not at all pleased, but eventually gave in.

You cuddled up with Aemond in his bed, with your dragon nestled between you both. She lay curled up like a small kitten, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"What are you going to name him?" whispered Aemond to you.

"Him? I think it's a girl..," you chuckled.

Aemond rolled his eyes, "Very well, what do you want to call her?"

You smiled, "I've thought of a few names... But I think Blackfyre is a good name"

Aemond chuckled, "An interesting choice... but I think it's good"

Aemond's dragon egg never hatched. Although you tried to provide him with positive encouragement by explaining that hatching is out of one's control and that some dragon eggs don't hatch at all, it was still very difficult for him to accept this outcome.

But every time you entered the dragonpit, Aemond would accompany you. He was there when you gave Blackfyre her first orders and it pleased him to see how obediently she responded.

He was also there when Blackfyre had her first meal. Each time you both visited, Aemond's happiness was palpable. As a result, Blackfyre grew accustomed to having both of you around.

And so you were with him when your brothers and Aegon surprised him with the pink dread. You were shocked that they would treat Aemond so badly. You comforted Aemond afterwards. He didn't deserve that. But he was deeply depressed. You then argued with your brothers and told them how stupid they were.

And so you sneaked into the hall before dinner. No one else was in the hall yet, but the table was already set. You quickly went to Aegon's place and saw the wine jug. You managed to catch some pee from Blackfyre in the afternoon. It wasn't much, as most of it ran down your hand, but it would do. Now you stood at Aegon's place and poured the dragon pee into the jug. You grinned. Quickly you looked around again before pulling snot up deep from your throat and spitting it into the jug as well. Hearing footsteps from outside, you quickly scurried to your seat. You hear the heavy wooden door open with a loud creak. You look at the door and smile. Your grandsire, King Viserys, came into the hall. With him were Lord Otto and Queen Alicent. Lord Otto and King Viserys seemed to be talking. Queen Alicent smiled at you.

"Hello my sweet," she said softly as she passed you. Queen Alicent was always kind to you. Often she caught you and Aemond trying to steal cakes or biscuits before dinner. But instead of telling your mother about your inappropriate behaviour, she would put on a stern face, let you keep your loot and quickly send you away before anyone else could see you. "Your Highness," you replied with a smile.

When Aemond came into the hall at some point, he still looked sad. He quietly took a seat beside you, seeming lost in thought. Soon after, Aegon arrived and took his own seat. You had been observing him attentively.

"What are you staring at?!" he snapped at you.

"Don't talk to her like that!" suddenly rang out from Aemond.

"Oooh... do you have to be strong in front of her now..." but Queen Alicent interrupted him.

"Aegon! Stop it, now!" she said sternly.

Aegon just snorted and poured himself some wine.

You slowly leaned over to Aemond, "Watch Aegon," you whispered.

"Why?", Aemond asked you irritated.

Aegon put his cup to his lips.

"I might have added some dragon's pee and snot in his wine," you said quietly.

Aemond laughed out loud, causing everyone to turn and look at the source of the noise. You held back a laugh, as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Meanwhile, Aegon had emptied his cup and was already pouring himself another drink. He seemed annoyed as he looked in your direction.

Aemond chuckled softly. He looked at you sweetly, "Thank you," he said softly to you. You grinned.

By the time you were ten years old, Blackfyre was big enough to ride. She was a big dragon that grew very fast. Your mother was strictly against you riding Blackfyre. She simply wanted to ensure your safety and was worried that you might accidentally slip off the dragon's back.

But it didn't stop you from riding Blackfyre. Of course you took Aemond with you. Blackfyre was the first dragon you and Aemond rode.

One day, word arrived that Laena Velaryon had passed away. She had made the difficult decision to end her life as a dragon rider during a difficult childbirth. You are now expected to journey to Driftmark to pay your respects at her funeral.

Before you left, you were with Aemond when his father, King Viserys, told him that they would travel to Dragonstone after the funeral. He said that Aemond could claim a dragon there if he was bold enough.

You quickly took hold of Aemond's hand to offer comfort. Although he didn't say anything, you could sense the hurt in his eyes caused by his father's words.

"Don't listen to him," you told Aemond afterwards, "He is indeed the king... but he is not always right. He does not know you. And of course you would be bold enough! You could claim any dragon!"

Aemond had to smile. But you still saw the disappointment in his gaze.

When you were on Driftmark for the funeral, everything happened very quickly. Aemond had no intention of travelling to Dragonstone. He wanted Vhagar. And he got Vhagar.

In the evening he sat with you in your chambers. He had promised that he would sneak into your chambers at night when everyone was asleep. But you only saw him again in the hall. In the middle of the night you woke up. Aemond was not in your chambers, but you heard loud conversations and shouting. Cautiously you got up. Quietly you went out into the corridor. You followed the voices and arrived at the hall. Everyone was gathered there. And then you saw Aemond. He was injured. A maester was sewing something in his eye. You went to him, but were held back by Daemon. He held you back with his arm and looked down at you. He just shook his head gently and pushed you carefully behind his big body. You didn't even take your eyes off Aemond.

Instead, you snuck into his chambers at night. He was lying on his bed, asleep. He had been given a lot of poppy juice, yet he had whimpered in his sleep. You climbed onto his bed and wrapped your little arms around him. He slowly stopped whimpering. You still had a calming effect on him, as you did in the cradle.

At bedtime, you made a habit of applying ointment to his scar to help ease the pain and aid in the healing process. Unfortunately, the maesters who had been assisting with this task were not gentle and caused Aemond to flinch in pain. One night, it became unbearable and Aemond was on the verge of tears. Feeling frustrated, you took matters into your own hands the following evening and took the ointment from the maester without saying a word.

"Princess. I must apply the ointment to Prince Aemond. You don't know how to do that"

"You are rough in applying it. You will not touch his scar again", you replied.

"Princess..." but you interrupted him.

"I have already successfully commanded Blackfyre to breathe fire. Would you like to feel that?", you looked coldly at him.

The maester paused. Then he tilted his head slightly and left the chambers.

Aemond sat speechless on the bed.

"You... You don't have to do this..." he finally said quietly.

"Oooh... don't be silly," you replied.

You went to the bed where he was resting, took some ointment from the bowl with your fingers, and gently spread it on his scar. Aemond had closed his good eye tightly, seemingly bracing himself for pain, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt. Gradually he opened his eye and saw you smiling at him with tenderness.

"Better?" you asked softly. He gave a small nod of his head, and from that moment forward, you diligently applied the soothing ointment that had been provided by the maester.

You also encouraged him that he is still the great person he was before the accident. You stood by his side and helped him to overcome his insecurities, even going so far as to help him regain his confidence with a sword.

In fact, you just kept hitting him with the wooden sword until he had enough of it and finally picked up a wooden sword and hit back. It was a challenging process, but you never stopped encouraging him to keep going but to continue now more than ever. To learn anew how he has to attack with the sword. At what angle the opponent must never stand so that he could see him well. And he did not give up.

During the day you encouraged him and at night you held him.

You still went to the dragonpit together regularly. But now Vhagar was with you. Together you often rode your dragons. Vhagar is bigger than Blackfyre, but not by much. Together you explored the skies. Only the rumbling of the dragons and your giggling could be heard from the air. Often you sat in the dragonpit afterwards. You had been lying in the dirt, hiding behind your dragons. But you enjoyed it. You sat there for hours and imagined all the things you wanted to discover. Where you wanted to travel. Of course you want to explore everything with your dragons. Perhaps one day you will fly to Essos. See the remains of Valyria.

When you are six and ten years old, you have been named heir to the throne. You have been chosen as the successor to your mother's throne, which comes as a surprise to you. Even though you are the eldest child, you had always assumed that your younger sibling Jace would inherit the crown. You're now uncertain about whether you're ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling as queen.

Aemond was still very close to you. You even sleep in bed together from time to time. It's just that it's felt a little different now. You had noticed that you often just look at him. As soon as you noticed it, you felt uncomfortable and your cheeks turned red.

Aemond was a little more subtle in his approach. He liked to watch you when you were asleep. When the moon shone into the room and made your silver hair glow. Sometimes he even dared to gently stroke your cheek. Just so he could see you gently wrinkling your nose in your sleep.

When you received the news that you were to become queen, you went straight to Aemond. Aemond was very happy for you, as usual. And in the evening, he surprised you. He came into your chambers through the secret passages, carrying two wine jugs.

"We must celebrate your becoming heir to the throne," he grinned at you. You had to chuckle softly.

You drank almost all the wine and lay together on your bed. Not a minute passed in silence, you talked the whole time. Until he suddenly looked straight at you, "You know... I like to watch you sleep..," His cheeks were red from all the wine, but you saw them get even redder, "..Because when you lie on this side in bed..", He pointed with his hand to the side of the bed facing the window, "..the moon shines on you... And...", he paused and you looked into each other's eyes. He sighed quitley.

"I love you... y/n.. I don't know since when... But... it feels like...", but you just kissed him.

He was irritated at first, but didn't hesitate long and returned the kiss. His lips felt warm and soft. The taste of the wine was on his lips. Your lips were sore and red when you first broke the kiss. You just looked at each other and smiled. You have not said much. Aemond's hand was on your cheek. Slowly he stroked your cheek with his fingers. His thumb gently caressed your lips. Until he leaned forward again and you kissed once more. You couldn't ignore the warmth and pinching between your thighs any longer and slid closer to him. But you broke the kiss again. You looked at each other, your breathing was rapid. Aemond gently stroked your arms. No one said anything. You looked deep into each other's eyes and somehow it seemed clear, you both wanted the same thing. Aemond kissed you gently and rolled onto you carefully. As he lay on top of you and pressed his hips against you, you felt something hard. It pressed right against your warm core. But it felt strangely good when Aemond pressed his hips against you. A soft moan came from you.

That night you sleep together. He was your first man. You were both inexperienced and so you both explored your bodies together. You undressed each other. You let your hands wander over each other's bodies. Every time your hands discovered a new spot, soft moans and gasps filled your chambers. You giggled a lot and kissed a lot more. It was indescribably beautiful. The act itself, when he was finally inside you, didn't last long. But you will never forget how much you felt connected to him all the time.

Aemond held you all night. He lay close to your back. You felt his chest against your body. How it slowly rose and fell. Again and again he gently kissed your neck.

The next morning, as usual, he was no longer there. At dawn he always left your chambers secretly so as not to be caught.

At noon a servant came to you, your mother wished to see you. When you arrived to meet her, she informed you that you would be temporarily relocating to Dragonstone. While she didn't provide any specific reasons, she did explain that this would be an opportunity for you to receive the necessary training and preparation to eventually assume the throne.

But you did not want to go.

"Mother... no... I will not leave the capital," you told her.

"Yes, you will. On Dragonstone you will be prepared to rule the realm one day"

You snorted, "Why can't I be prepared for that here? Here, I could see first-hand how the decisions of the realm are made"

You felt yourself getting angry.

Your mother had shaken her head slightly, "To understand these political decisions, you must first understand the political theories on which these decisions are based. Then you can deal with making decisions. And on Dragonstone, you don't need to fear any distractions"

Tears came to your eyes. But you refused to cry now. You knew your mother and the look in her eyes. The discussion was over.

You went to see Aemond. In his chambers you told him about it.

He simply looked at you. For the first time you could not interpret the look on his face.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked quietly.

Silence reigned in his chambers.

"I... I don't know... My mother said it would be the right thing... To prepare me for my regency... I... I don't know...", you were unsettled.

Aemond clenched his hands into fists, "But you must know if you want to go!"

Aemond was feeling very worried and anxious. He was afraid of losing you because you were the most important and positive aspect of his life.

"Then tell me to stay!" you suddenly shouted at him. You were angry. Those you don't want to hear it from tell you what to do. And the one person you wish would tell you what to do doesn't tell you what to do... that you should stay.

But he just looks at you, "You know I can't do that... I can't say that... You have to do what is right," he said almost coldly. He had to pull himself together not to cross the room, to take you in his arms. He wanted you to stay... that he was the right one for you.

But you understood it differently. That he didn't want you to stay.

So you just nodded, "Very well... If that's what you want. Then I'll go"

Tears welled up in your eyes. He said your name, but you just left his chambers.

That night Aemond did not come to your chambers.

You spend the next few years on Dragonstone. You actually had enough time there to prepare for your duties as queen by studying and learning political theory. However, you can't help but wonder if you could have achieved the same level of preparation by staying in King's Landing and discussing these topics with Aemond…

You miss Aemond. Terribly much. Your memories of your last night together are beautiful, but the fact that you were torn apart makes it all the more difficult to bear. You often lie awake for hours. You long for the times when Aemond would come to your bed and you could talk for hours. You miss his embrace... Whenever you receive a letter from King's Landing, you hope to hear something about Aemond, but unfortunately, you don't get any news. You're afraid to reach out to him because you don't want to be rejected, even though you can't stand the silence.

Meanwhile, Aemond is suffering just as much as you are. He longs for you and misses you dearly. He can't sleep at night because he constantly thinks about you. He is restless at night. He is restless because he yearns for your physical presence - your body, warmth, and gentle breathing beside him.

He needs your presence and comfort by his side. He remembers when he told you to do the right thing and go away, and those words still haunt him to this day. He wishes he could take it back and instead ask you to stay.

But now the time had come for you to go back to King's Landing. Your grandsire, King Viserys, is getting worse and your mother is to take the throne after his death. The flight to King's Landing is quiet. The wind blows through your hair as you watch the water pass beneath you. Blackfyre enjoys the flight. Your brothers and your stepfather Daemon are flying with you. And then you see it in the distance. The walls of the capital appear in the distance.

Aemond is in the library. He is sitting by the window reading a book. When a shadow passes in the sky, he looks up. He sees a big dragon in the sky and it is not Vhagar. A smile curls his lips. He is paralysed for a moment, but then he slams the book shut and gets up from his chair.

As you and your family are welcomed into the courtyard, Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena smile at you. Aemond is not to be seen. You smile politely, but the thought spreads through your mind that Aemond might not want to see you.

But Aemond is too excited. His hands tremble slightly. Like the night you made love for the first time. He walks towards the dragonpit, he wants to ride Vhagar. But when he arrives at the dragonpit, he is distracted. He sees Blackfyre and has to smile. He pauses for a moment as Blackfyre slowly turns her head in his direction. Cautiously, he walks towards Blackfyre, slowly raising his hand. She recognises him and grumbles slightly. As he stands beside her, he gently strokes her neck. He immediately feels her warmth flooding his palm.

"Rytsas gevie...", he whispers (Hello beautiful). She grumbles slightly again.

"Gaomagon ao remember nyke?" he says softly with a smile on his lips (Do you remember me)

When suddenly another voice sounds.

"Sīr ao sepār dekuragon bē naejot iā strange zaldrīzes?" you stand behind him (So you just step up to a strange dragon)

He stiffens for a moment.

"Issa daor bona strange..," he replies without turning around (She's not that strange..)

You have to smile as he slowly turns around. He smiles too and you are speechless. He has grown into an impressive man. Even through his clothes you can see that his slim, tall body must have more muscles. His hair is longer and falls over his shoulder. It is tied slightly so that it does not fall in his face. The scar looks much better, it seems to have healed.

"Have you taken care of your scar?" you ask gently.

He nods slightly. The smile does not leave his lips.

"With the ointment... that I... applied every night?", you whisper.

He nods again, "The maesters wanted to try another one in the meantime... But I didn't want to..." he says softly.

You smile softly.

He slowly approaches you and takes you in his arms without hesitation. You put your arms around his body.

"I missed you," he whispers.

You just nod, wanting to hold back the tears.

After a while he leans back, looks you in the face, "And... have you learned how to rule?" he smiles at you.

You laugh lightly, "Oh get ready for something... my brain has been fed so much information..."

He chuckles softly, "I'm curious..."

You sit down behind Blackfyre, leaning against the walls of the dragonpit and talk. Just like you did when you were children.

When all of a sudden he looks at you, "You know... So much has happened. In the time that you weren't there"

You nod slightly, "I know..." you say softly.

He lets his hands slide over his thighs and sighs. His gaze is fixed on the floor, "I am to wed a Baratheon daughter," he says softly.

It is quiet in the dragonpit. Your chest tightens. It is hard for you to breathe. You have expected this, but still you do not know how to deal with it.

As he slowly turns his gaze to you to see your reaction, you just nod slowly.

Tears welling up in your eyes. Your eyes burn and your throat tightens. You clear your throat. You don't want him to see you like this. When he looks at the floor again, you quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

After a few moments you catch yourself, "And...? Do you want to wed her?" you ask quietly.

He snorts, "You know very well that I don't want to..."

You nod again, "Yes... But we have to do what's right..."

You look at him and he looks you straight in the eye. At first you see pure pain in his gaze, when suddenly his gaze warms.

He nods slowly, "Fuck it, yeah. I have to do the right thing," he says suddenly.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. The love he had for you inside him had build to its maximum, beyond the point of logic or reason, and he gave himself over to you. His mind and heart become one as the two of you kissed. The world around you seemed to disappear, and all that mattered was the feeling of your body against his, and the taste of your lips against his.

You are startled at first. You feel the emotions in this kiss, how Aemond gives himself to you. But you can't help yourself, you return his kiss and pull him towards you. His hand is on your neck, his thumb gently strokes your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His touch... his hand on your neck, his lips on yours... It is all you feel. He is so close to you in that moment. Your lips, your mouths... You breath your breath into each other's. There are no word's, there is only your kiss.

Slowly you undo the buckles of his waistcoat. You interrupt the kiss. Your lips are reddish from your passionate kisses. You kiss gently along his jaw, down to his neck. nibbling lightly on the soft skin. You hear him moan lightly. Your breath is warm against his neck and your lips on his skin were like a flame.

He takes your face in his hands, you look into each other's eyes. You are breathing heavily. He pulls you close, gently kisses your nose. His hands slide from your face down to your shoulders, slowly he starts to open your dress. Gently he slips your dress over your shoulder. His lips follow his fingers. Soft kisses find their way onto your collarbone. He slides your dress further down and his lips leave a fiery trail on your skin. You moan softly as his lips are on your breast, gently cupping your nipple. He moves his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth. You gasp out and again a moan comes from your lips. Gently he sucks on the sensitive skin. His teeth lightly graze your nipple and he bites down gently. You hiss slightly and your hands slide into his hair, you grab him by the hair and pull him closer to you.

His hands pull your dress further down. You feel your arousal rising between your legs. You press your thighs together a little, hoping to experience some satisfaction. You take his face in your hands, pull him to you and kiss him greedily, you are panting. You feel him grinning against your lips. Carefully you bite his lip. He hisses and you chuckle lightly. Your hands slide down his chest and undo more buckles on his waistcoat. He takes off his waistcoat and lays it on the dusty ground. You sit down on the waistcoat and watch him take off his vest. Your gaze immediately falls on his upper body. On his soft skin that now has a few more scars. But you also notice that his upper body is really more defined. You bite your lip lightly. You take hold of his neck and pull him towards you. Wild kisses of a dance of tongues and teeth follow. Blackfyre moves slightly beside you. But she turns a little further in front of you so that you are shielded from all possible glances and her gaze is directed towards the entrance.

Aemond gently pushes you to the ground and kneels between your legs. His kisses become softer and you feel him gently slide his fingers up your thigh. You moan into his mouth as his fingers slide through your wet folds without warning.

"Mmmh... you really missed me," he says softly.

You try to bite his lip again, but he pulls his head away quickly enough and grins. Instead he lets his fingers continue to slide through your folds, spreading your arousal along them. You whimper.

He kisses you again as he leaves gentle but firm circles on your pearl. Your breathing becomes heavier.

"Aemond... please..." you gasp against his lips.

His fingers are instantly away from your folds and you hear a buckle open. Almost immediately you feel the tip of his hard cock slide through your folds. His gaze is fixed precisely on the tip of his cock soaking itself with your arousal. He groans at the sight. He looks at you again and sees you biting your lower lip. He leans forward, devouring more of your kisses. Slowly he pushes forward, guides his hot length into you. You both moan as he pushes further in. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Slowly he pushes forward, he gasps.

"Seven hells... you're so tight," he whispers, breathing heavily.

You only whimper. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming.

He continues to thrust, penetrating you further with each thrust. You move your hips rhythmically towards him to meet his thrusts on the way. His thrusts get harder and your breasts bounce every time his pelvis slams into yours. He grunts deeply and grips one of your breasts with his hand. Lightly he squeezes it and bends down. His thrusts don't let up as he encircles your nipple again with his mouth. You cry out and grab his arms.

He looks up at you, "My love... do you want us to get caught?" he whispers.

You bite your lips. He turns his attention back to your nipple. Lets his tongue glide gently around before he nibbles lightly on it again. He moans softly as he notices your walls clench slightly around him. He lets go of your nipple and kisses you again. He leans back a little, gently grips your thigh and wraps it around his waist. You cry out again and try to muffle it in his neck. His thrusts become harder. His eye is closed and he moans deeply as he buries himself in you to the hilt of his cock. Again and again he pushes against your sweet spot. You lie under him and just whimper. You reach for his arms and dig your fingernails into his biceps. "Aemond..." you gasp, "deeper..."

He opens his eye, but the purple in his eye is almost unrecognisable. His eye is blown with lust. Wordlessly he takes your leg from his hip and places it along his torso. Your foot rests on his shoulder and he leans further down towards you.

"Oooh... Fuuuck...", you gasp.

Each thrust hurts, but the pain feels so good. You are convinced that he is going to split you. With a brutal speed, he thrusts into you. With each thrust, his balls slap against your ass and are soaked with your arousal. You whimper as you feel the pressure building in your lower belly.

"I... I'm... so close..." you moan.

Aemond reaches between your bodies and applies pressure to your clit. He notices you clenching hard around his cock.

"Love... come... cum on my cock...", he grunts deeply.

With that he pushes you over the edge. You cry out. He tries to muffle your moans by enclosing your lips with his. Your fingers dig deep into his shoulder. Your walls want to pull his cock in further, want to milk him. He feels his balls twitch. He pulls his cock out of you as he feels his cock start to twitch too. You whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. He moans and grunts deeply, spreading his seed in the dirt beside you. You are both breathing heavily. Slowly you let your leg slide off his shoulder. Aemond smiles at you, breathing heavily. He looks exhausted, but he is smiling. He lies down beside you.

You look at him and whisper, breathing heavily, "That was better than the first time"

You look at each other for a moment before you both laugh. You turn to him and he puts his arms around you.

After a while, you look up at him, "And... have you seen your betrothed yet?"

He chuckles softly, "No... not yet..."

You smile slightly, "Will you..."

"...I'm not going to wed her," he interrupts you. You look at him, he gently strokes your cheek.

"I don't know how yet. But I will talk to my mother... I..." you notice how he is almost hesitant, almost shy.

"You want to ask if you can wed me?" you ask softly.

He looks at you slightly uncertainly, "Well... If... If you don't want to..."

You just kiss him, "Silly boy..." you whisper.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357

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writing-mlm · 2 months

Note

Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option.

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours.

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot.

Until you saw Damian Wayne.

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right.

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you.

Until it did.

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around.

And his name was above yours.

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal.

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out.

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom.

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you.

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help.

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself.

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier.

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics.

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year.

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity.

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself?

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken.

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that.

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in.

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class.

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school.

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus.

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months.

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family.

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford.

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is.

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night.

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too.

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough.

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night.

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room.

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed.

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god.

Then again, you could’ve been studying.

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving.

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne.

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there.

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap.

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded.

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password.

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out.

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice.

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time?

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it.

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top.

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt.

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder.

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him.

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class.

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain.

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you.

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that.

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks.

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food.

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella.

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand.

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it.

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam.

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up.

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly.

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did.

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you.

And you’re too prideful to let that happen.

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students.

He hands you the test back and you stand up.

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him.

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension.

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything.

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs.

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes.

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at.

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering.

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself.

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime.

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker.

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.”

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

And he was.

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants.

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.”

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust.

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh.

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking.

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in.

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy.

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people.

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black.

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe.

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner.

How the fuck do you even act at parties.

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes.

“Hey,” You offer a smile.

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm.

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades.

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago.

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs.

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour.

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you.

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head.

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them.

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him.

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!”

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment.

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you.

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before.

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow.

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes.

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips.

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you.

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life.

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in.

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it.

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off.

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave.

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door.

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff.

“Pretty sure you bottom,”

“Just this once.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you

205 notes · View notes

houseofripley · 2 months

Note

HEYY

Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)

Starry Prom Night

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)

WORD COUNT: 3,731

A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!

also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol

“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years.

Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium?

Fuck that!

“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm.

You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.

Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town?

“Cool shirt.”

And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair.

Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already!

“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.

“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts.

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“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.

“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle.

You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”

Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.

You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.

The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…

Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea.

She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.

“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.

“Oh c’mon just try it!”

“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”

“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.

“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room.

“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.

Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.

“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.

“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”

“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down.

“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”

“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.

After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.

“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”

══════⋆☆⋆══════

Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.

Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents.

“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes.

Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”

“Oh absolutely, I dare you!”

“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.

You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.

“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.

“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.

“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.

After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.

“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall.

Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.

“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.

“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.

You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.

“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!”

“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.

“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.

“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.

You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing.

“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.”

“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.

You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.

A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.

Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”

Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.

This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.

Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.

Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?

“Cool.” You nodded

Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.

“Wher-”

“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses.

She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.

Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin.

“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine.

“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”

“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed.

She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress.

Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.

“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.

Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.

“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”

With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.

“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat.

The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.

“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.

Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core.

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud.

“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.

Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head.

“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room.

“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds.

“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.

Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.

After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling.

“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.

“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.

“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.

Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”

“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”

“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”

#this one is such a mess sorry lol #i fear i yearned too much #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe smut

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orchidniins · 2 months

Text

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 1 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N moves to London to pursue her dreams and reconnect with her best friend But what she doesn't expect is a cute neighbor and a new exciting chapter of her life. Pairings: ArthurTV x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 6.4k A/N: FIRST FIC!!!!!! I’m so down bad for Arthur and just wish there was more on tumblr about this literal walking green flag of a man. I wanted this to be a cute little fic. But I feel like I got a little carried away with the story. But I also think that I need to start somewhere. Maybe the next fics I write after this will be a little more to the point. The more I write, the better I’ll get. I'm always open to suggestions and requests. Hope you enjoy!!

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The bustling streets of London welcome you as you step out of the taxi. Having grown up in a small town just outside of London, you’d always fantasized about what life in the big city was like. Sure, your past academic pursuits had given you the opportunity to live all across the world, but London was always the ultimate destination - the place you dreamed of settling down in.

Securing a spot in the archeology PHD program of your dreams was the culmination of years of hardwork and determination. Those late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming marathons and years spent away from home were finally paying off. It marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

Like clockwork, Sienna bursts out of the main entrance of the building and engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Sienna and you went way back. From the eager little girl who lived next door to becoming your closest confidante, she’d been through everything with you. Despite the miles between you over the years – ever since you left for the States to pursue your bachelor's degree and she moved to London for her’s – she remained one of the few constants in your life.

Your day wasn’t complete without a minimum three-hour facetime session. So naturally, after your family, she was the first person you informed of your move. True to form, she’d already cleaned out her spare bedroom and sent you a photo of the door adorned with a makeshift sign that read "Y/N’s Bedroom." It was safe to say that you were excited to reconnect with your childhood best friend and focus on your work. Little did you know, your life was about to take an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe you're finally here!”, Sienna exclaimed, finally letting you out of her embrace. “I can’t believe it either! I’d started to believe that you only existed on my phone screen”, you replied, pulling her into another hug, which she gladly returned.

“Come on now, we have much to catch up on”, pulling out of the embrace, Sienna grabs one of your oversized suitcases and starts lugging it into the building, you follow closely with a huge grin on your face.

As you entered the apartment, you couldn't help but admire the cozy atmosphere. Sienna always had an eclectic taste, much like yours. She was a bit of a collector and she always made sure to keep and display the souvenirs you sent her from all the museums and dig sites that you had visited and worked at.

You look to the side of the living room that was littered with boxes, “All your stuff got here a few days ago”, Sienna informs you as she shuts the door behind her.

“There should be one or two boxes coming in today that I shipped out a little later”, I mentioned, Sienna nods in understanding. “While we’re on the topic of shipping boxes, have you had a chance to send that cretin’s stuff back to him?” you ask her as you kick off your shoes and take your coat off.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Joey,” Sienna groaned. “He said he’d come by to pick his stuff up later, so I’ve just left a box by the door”, she added, plopping down on the couch and signaling for you to join her. ”But what I really want to know is, how’s your love life? What happened to that guy you were talking to last month? The one from your internship?”, she asks, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, things didn’t work out”, you drawled out. “He was really nice when it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t too bad in bed either, but once we were at our work, things got weird. He’d treat me completely different. Honestly he was a real prick," you explained, throwing an arm around her. "No more guys for me. I guess it’s just you and me, babe," you sighed, earning a laugh from her.

---------------

The next hour or two passed in unpacking and catching up when you received a notification on your phone saying a package had been dropped off at the downstairs lobby. "The rest of my stuff just got delivered. I’m heading downstairs," you announced to Sienna, who had just ventured into the kitchen to get dinner started.

You spot the box as soon as you exit the elevator. You sign for the package at the front desk and pick up the heavy box. Perhaps thinking you could manage a nearly 40kg box full of books by yourself wasn’t the best idea after all.

Lost in the effort of balancing the hefty box, you were completely oblivious to your surroundings. As soon as you turn to head towards the elevator, you feel yourself colliding with what felt like someone's side, causing you to stumble back a step. The impact was enough to make you wince, but that was the least of your worries.

With a dreadful realization, you watch in horror as the bottom of the box gives way, sending a cascade of books tumbling onto the stranger's feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you begin to profusely apologize to the man in front of you who is now bent over, clutching his ankle. Quickly chucking the box to the side, you kneel down to inspect his foot. ”Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention,” you continue your string of apologies, hoping that the man wasn’t hurt too badly.

The man winces slightly as you examine his foot, but instantly looks down at you with a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really," he tries to assure you, trying to alleviate your guilt. His smile catches you off guard, you stay frozen for a second, momentarily captivated by his warm smile and almost sparkling brown eyes. However, you quickly shake yourself out of it, realizing that this might not be the best time.

"Liar," you retorted with a hint of skepticism, knowing very well that anyone in their right mind would have cursed you out by now.

The man furrows his eyebrows and lets out a light chuckle. "No, really, I'm okay," he insists, standing up straight to show you that he was fine. You couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief as you fully stood up as well, grateful that your clumsiness hadn't caused any serious harm.

With a slight laugh, the man gestures towards the pile of books on the ground. "Either you have a shopping problem or you just moved in," he remarks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh in response, shaking your head. "I do have a shopping problem, but this is from just having moved in. My fault for thinking I'd be able to manage," you admit sheepishly.

You bend down to reach for the box to put it back together. You're surprised when the man gets down to your level and starts helping you out.

Mumbling a small thanks, you both begin placing the books back into the reassembled box. As you do this, you take a moment to observe his face. He looks to be around your age, with messy brown hair, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The man picks up a book titled "A History of Archaeological Thought" and reads the title out in interest, quickly flipping through the pages. “I've actually read this one," he remarks, holding up one of your books on ancient roman archeology "Found it quite interesting."

You look at him slightly surprised and say, "Oh, you have? One of my professors from uni recommended it to me. It's really fascinating."

"These are all archaeology and history textbooks," he observes, gesturing to the pile of books.

You put the last book in the box and stand up along with him, laughing slightly. "Haha, yes, some of them are old textbooks from university. The rest are just stuff I've collected over the years."

He looks at you in awe and exclaims, "You're an archaeologist? That's so cool! I've never met an archaeologist before." The sparkle in his eyes returns, and you almost feel yourself slightly melt at the sight of them. You find yourself flashing him a wide smile. There's something about the genuine curiosity and admiration in his gaze that warms your heart.

Before you can say something, your phone rings. Excusing yourself for a moment, you check your phone and see that Sienna is calling, likely worried by how long it's taken you to pick up a delivery. "Sorry, just a minute," you say to the man, turning to the side to answer your cell. He nods in understanding.

"Hey, Sienna," you answer.

"Girl, what happened? Where are you?" Sienna's voice comes through, concerned.

"Long story, but I'll be up in a minute," you assure her.

"Please, come quick. Joey just texted me; he said he'll be here in like 5 minutes to pick up his stuff and I really don't want to be alone when he gets here," Sienna explains anxiously.

"Ok, yeah, I’ll be right up" you respond, sensing the urgency in her voice.

You hang up the call, tucking your phone quickly into your back pocket, you turn back to the handsome stranger. "Sorry about that, but I actually need to go," you apologize, feeling a twinge of disappointment that your conversation was just cut short.

"Ha, don't worry about it," he reassures you with a warm smile.

You apologize again for his foot and thank him for the help. As you go to bend down to pick up the box, he beats you to it, lifting it effortlessly. "Oh, you don't have to," you insist, but he shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't want to risk you possibly injuring someone else," he quips playfully.

You look at him with mock hurt and reply, "Rude!" before bursting into laughter, appreciating his kindness despite what had just happened.

As he begins to walk towards the elevator, you follow suit. You suddenly realize just how warm your cheeks had gotten and you quickly fan your face to cool down before you enter the elevator. Once inside, you press the button for your floor and glance around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. The tension is palpable, but there's also a subtle excitement lingering in the air.

Arriving at your floor, you lead the way to your new flat, with him following without hesitation. Standing outside your door, you turn to him and say, "Well, this is me. Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

He responds with a gentle smile, "Again, it wasn't a bother. I'm glad to help." He sets the box down next to your door.

You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next when it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t know the man’s name. Just as you’re about to introduce yourself, your attention is abruptly pulled away by the sound of your name being called from a distance.

"Y/N!" You spot Sienna's nightmare of an ex strolling towards your door, and you know that if you don't go inside right away, Sienna would probably kill you.

Quickly moving to unlock your door, you turn around to the attractive man and flash him a final smile. "Well, I appreciate the help. I'll see you around," you say hastily.

"Goodbye," He replies with a nod, understanding the urgency in your departure.

With that, you pick up the box and swiftly slip into your door, the sound of it shutting behind you signaling the end of your unexpected encounter.

---------------

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with your charming neighbor, yet his presence continued lingering in your mind, a constant reminder of your missed opportunity to exchange names. Mentally scolding yourself for the oversight, you couldn't help but replay the encounter in your head repeatedly, wishing you had seized the chance to learn more about him.

The past week kept you fairly busy, preparing for the start of term on Monday. Despite that, the thoughts of him persisted more than you'd like to admit. Each time you stepped into the elevator or the lobby of your apartment, you secretly hoped for another chance meeting. Though you were someone who always tried to look presentable when stepping out, you found yourself putting in extra effort, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your flatmate.

"This usually isn't like you. Hoping to run into someone?" Sienna teases you with a knowing smirk as you prepare for the day ahead. With an interview for a teaching assistant position in the morning, lunch plans with your future classmates and some pending errands, today was shaping up to be quite hectic.

"You know," you explain to Sienna, "I just need to meet a bunch of people today, trying to make a good first impression that's all." Sienna's excitement bubbles as she responds, "Speaking of meeting new people, we're going to a party tonight!"

Usually, you were pretty social, but with all the tasks on your list today, the only thing getting you through the day is the thought of getting home and sinking into your bed. "I have quite a long day ahead, and all I want is to rest once I'm back," you confess to Sienna. But she's the persistent type that doesn’t take no for an answer, "You're in London now. New place. New life. You need to make some new friends as well," she insists. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can meet some of my friends."

"Fine, I'll see if I'm feeling up to it once I'm back in the evening," you reluctantly agree and bid her goodbye. “Good luck on your interview!” Sienna screams as you head out the door.

---------------

You return home to a dimly lit flat, only illuminated by the lamp next to the couch and the light emanating from Sienna’s room. You feel a wave of relief as you kick off your shoes, finally able to give your feet a break after being on them all day. You attempt to move as quietly as possible, hoping to sneak past Sienna and retreat to your bedroom for some much-needed rest. However, it seems as though she possesses some sort of mind reading ability, as she calls out to you in a sing-songy tone, "Hey Y/N… Don't even think about sneaking off. Get in here."

You weakly protest, "But…" before Sienna shuts down any objections with a firm, "No buts. Get in here." Giving up, you toss your purse and the shopping bags onto the couch and reluctantly make your way into her room.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, you offer a half-hearted, "You called?"

"Yes, get your cute butt in here and get ready. You can borrow one of my tops if you want," Sienna responds. Though you pout for a moment, Sienna's pointed glare leaves you with no room for argument. You finally agree, "Fine… I'll go put something on. I'll be right back." Sienna nods, continuing to put on her mascara.

Returning to your bedroom, you rummage through a box of clothes that you had yet to unpack. Finally settling on a pair of black wide-leg jeans, a black bralette, and a sheer black top to layer over it. Quickly changing, you grab your makeup bag and head back into Sienna's room.

"You look so hot! If I were a guy, I'd be all over you," she says with a wink. "I know right!" you playfully reply as you start to retouch your makeup beside her in the mirror.

As you apply a fresh coat of lipstick, you inquire, "Where is this party by the way?" Sienna responds, "Oh, it's right upstairs. It's a house party at my friend George’s place."

"Cool, but I don't want to stay too long. I actually feel like I'll drop dead any second after the long day I've had," you tell Sienna, hoping she'll understand your need for an early night, but you can't help but feel a twang of hope in your heart that you might run into the cute brown-eyed stranger there.

Sienna turns to you with a playful salute, saying, "Yes, ma'am. We'll just have a few drinks, mingle around. We won't be there long." Her words reassure you, and you offer her an appreciative smile as the two of you share a laugh.

---------------

As you and Sienna stand outside of George's flat, you hear the sounds of laughter and music echo from inside. With an encouraging grin, Sienna grabs you by the arms and pushes open the door, pulling you into the flat.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Despite your fatigue, a spark of excitement blooms within you; it's been a while since you've had the opportunity to drink a little and let loose.

Sienna's eyes scan the room. and an excited smile lights up her face as she spots someone. "George!", she calls out enthusiastically, waving to catch the attention of a brown haired man.

He gives Sienna a slightly intoxicated smile as he stumbles over to where the two of you stand. "Hi! You made it!," he greets her with a hug.

Sienna responds with a smile, saying, "Of course! Any excuse to get drunk," as she pulls away and turns slightly towards you. "George, this is my other half, Y/N," she introduces, prompting you to flash him a smile and lean in for a side hug, which he reciprocates.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you finding London so far?" George inquires, prompting you to reply, "Oh, it's been great, and it's a plus living with Sienna…"

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang and get you guys a drink. Come." He leads the two of you near the kitchen, where you see two men chatting with solo cups in hand. George gestures towards the drinks and encourages you to help yourselves, handing you each a cup as well.

You quickly fix yourself a drink and take a sip, the cold liquid adding some life back into you. You turn around to see Sienna and George now in a conversation with the two other guys. You grab your drink and head over to join them.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Sienna introduces you to the two men in front of you, slinging an arm around you in the process. "Y/N, this is Chris and this is Arthur," Sienna continues, "They live here too. We have another Arthur; he should be around here somewhere," George adds as he takes a look around the room.

Arthur extends his hand and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. Sienna doesn't shut up about you." Chris chimes in, "Yeah, we know everything… even the thing with the door." You look at him in shock and lightly laugh, replying, "Yeah....I am not drunk enough to get into the whole door story." you say taking a large swig of your drink, earning a laugh from the group.

30 minutes and many vodka shots later, you get to learn a little more about the boys. The conversation is flowing and filled with laughter. You find out that all of them are YouTubers and create content on the internet. George makes videos on YouTube and Tik-Tok, and Chris made football videos. Arthur, in particular, was a musician, which you spent a few good minutes remarking how cool that was.

After conversing a bit more, Sienna takes you around the room and introduces you to few more people. Some lived in the building and others were mutual friends that she had with George, Chris and Arthur.

You are chatting with a few girls when George joins the group, more shots in hand, "No more...I'm like another shot away from throwing up," you tell him.

"That's fine. I'll find someone to hold your hair back," he says with a chuckle, placing a shot glass in your hand and in the already drunk state you were in, you comply.

Even more shots later, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. George tells you to use the en-suite in his room and despite George's instructions, it takes you all but 5 seconds to forget in your intoxicated state.

You head in the general direction that he pointed you in and walk down the hall, stumbling into the first bedroom that you see. The room has a cozy and warm atmosphere. There is a filming set up on the desk in the corner, a bookshelf overflowing with books and a white piano placed against one of the walls. At first glance, you don't feel like the room fits the vibe that George had, but you brushed it off and made a beeline to the toilet.

You finish your business and step out of the restroom. As you exit, you hear the door of the balcony open wider, and at that moment it dawns on you that you might have unintentionally entered someone else's private space by mistake.

Without a second thought, you try to head straight out the door, hoping to completely avoid any interaction at all. But with the alcohol slowing down your reaction time, you're only able to take maybe four steps before you hear a man's voice, "Oh, hello."

In that moment, you just want to make a run for it, but instead, you turn around to face whoever's room this was. You're pleasantly surprised when you come face to face with a familiar warm smile.

"Hey", you reply with slight surprise in your tone, a smile creeping up on your face. His face lights up with a bright smile at the sight of the person that was occupying space in his mind for the past week.

"Hide everything heavy, else I might drop it on your foot," you say, your face scrunching at your embarrassing attempt to make this interaction less awkward. Your words earn you a laugh.

"Oh, sorry btw," you blurt out, pointing to the restroom door. "George said I could use the one in his room, but I got confused and ended up here. I know I probably should have checked to see if there was someone else here first. Haha, I don't always think too straight when I'm drunk, you know, especially because it's been almost 6 months since I drank last so, I'm usually not a lightweight, but I guess the large pause from drinking has kind of turned me into one." you word vomit in your drunken state.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, all while the man in front of you takes it all in with an amused smile on his face. "Oh shit, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry for that," your words are accompanied with a slight stumble even while just standing, and the man quickly rushes to your side. "Woah there," he says, helping you regain balance. "Come sit down." He leads you and sits you down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat next to you.

"Oh! I'm Y/N, by the way. Sorry I didn't catch your name last time," you finally introduce yourself, hoping to clear the awkward air. He smiles warmly. "I'm Arthur," he says, his voice soft and friendly.

"So you're the fourth flatmate," you remark, trying to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

"Yeah, that's me," Arthur confirms with a nod. "The elusive fourth flatmate," he adds with a chuckle. "I've been friends with the boys for a while, but I just moved in a a few weeks ago."

As Arthur talks about how he met each of his flatmates, you can't help but be drawn in by his charming and slightly goofy personality. You also didn't mind just staring at his handsome face for a while. You find yourself smiling at his easy demeanor, pleasantly surprised by how instantly at ease you started to feel around him as you two spoke, as if you'd known each other much longer than your short interactions.

You learn that Arthur is a YouTuber too, specializing in TV show commentary and reaction videos. You make a mental note to check out his channel, along with the others', when you manage to find the time.

He says, "You know, I totally felt like an idiot the other day for not getting your name." You chuckle softly, feeling a bit relieved that he brought it up first.

"Oh no, that was totally on me," you admit sheepishly, "I was in a bit of a hurry." you quickly recover, flashing him a warm smile. "But it's nice seeing you again," you say sincerely.

"Likewise," Arthur replies, a hint of relief in his voice. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again."

"Is your boyfriend here as well?" Arthur asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. For a moment, you almost feel like you misheard him. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask, taken aback. "Your boyfriend, the guy from the hall the other week, don't you live together?" he asks, with furrowed brows.

"Oh, no, he wasn't my boyfriend," you clarify, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I live with my friend Sienna. He's her ex; he was just coming over to pick up some of the stuff he left behind." You swear you see relief wash over Arthur's face.

"But where did you get that impression?" you ask, intrigued.

Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, before he went into your flat, he said that his girlfriend lived there, tried to size me up, and then told me to stay away from your place."

You look at him in shock. "He did what!?" you exclaim, "Are you serious?", you say, making a mental note to strangle Joey if you were to ever see him again.

Arthur nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, I found the bloke a little dodgy. Weird character."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, now you know why he's her ex," you quip, shaking your head.

After a moment of silence, Arthur clears his throat, his tone slightly hesitant. "So, you're single?" he asks, his gaze meeting yours. You notice a hint of nervousness in his voice, and he quickly adds, "I-I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with that question…"

You offer him a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's okay," you reassure him, appreciating his concern. "Yes, I'm single," you confirm, feeling a sense of ease in his presence.

Arthur visibly relaxes, relieved by your response. "Good to know," he says with a small, sheepish grin. You can't help but find his reaction incredibly cute, and you let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, just focusing on finding my footing here in London," you explain, your tone light.

Arthur leans in with curiosity. "So, what brings you to London?" he asks, genuine interest gleaming in his eyes. You can't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, surprised and pleased by the level of interest he's showing, unable to recall any guy you've talked to who has shown such genuine curiosity about your life.

You smile, feeling a sense of connection as you share a bit of your story. "Well, I'm actually starting my Ph.D. next week," you reveal. "It's been my dream program for as long as I can remember."

His eyebrows raise in intrigue. "Wow! a Ph.D.? That's impressive. In archeology?" he asks, his interest piqued. He laughs softly, and adds "I remember from the books you dropped on me."

You laugh, appreciating his recall. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm, feeling your heart melting at how attentive he was.

"Wow, archaeology sounds fascinating," Arthur remarks, leaning in with genuine interest, and you realize just how close he had gotten during this conversation. "How did you get into it?"

You smile, reminiscing about your journey. "Well, it's kind of because of my father," you begin, "He was a Greek history professor, and some of my youngest memories are of sitting in on his lectures when I was little and he has always been very supportive of me learning about other cultures and their histories."

Arthur's eyes light up with curiosity as he listens intently.

"So I just knew," you continue, "When it was time for uni, it just felt write to study archeology. Though I was studying in the States up until now, I traveled to various countries, exploring different archaeological sites." Arthur nods, captivated by your story.

And just like that, the conversation flows effortlessly between you, diving deeper into the world of archaeology and sharing your mutual fascination with the subject. You also ask him about his journey in becoming a youtuber and are extremely impressed by how he transitioned from being a lawyer to a content creator. With each new detail he shares, you find yourself being just a little more attracted to him.

As you continue on with your conversation, your attention is drawn away when you hear a knock on the open door of the room.

George peaks his head into the room, you get up and face him, realizing that you had completely forgotten that you even were at a party. Time had slipped away as you spoke with Arthur.

You check your phone, and were slightly shocked to see that almost 2 hours had passed by since you came stumbling into Arthur's room.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," George says, concern evident in his voice. "Sienna seems a bit out of it. I think you should take her home."

Immediately, you're on your feet, concern for your friend overriding any other thoughts. You follow George back into the living room, Arthur following closely behind. You see that the crowd had thinned out a bit but the music was still playing and there were still people chatting and drinking.

Sienna is sprawled out on the couch, her hair covering her face. You crouch down next to her, gently brushing her hair away. "Are you okay, babe?" you ask softly.

Sienna's eyes flutter open, and she springs up, throwing her arms around you. "Y/N! Where were you all night? I wanted to drink more with you!" she exclaims. Then, she turns to George and demands, "Get us more shots, George!"

George looks between the two of you and shakes his head with a smile. "Water it is," he says and heads to the kitchen to get some.

Sienna spots Arthur standing behind you. "Hey there," she says cheerfully. She'd always been the more social one between you two and absolutely loved meeting new people.

Arthur comes over and crouches next to you, introducing himself to her. "You must be Sienna. I'm Arthur, another one of George's flatmates," he says warmly. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" He asks, and you find yourself looking at Arthur with a smile, touched by how sweet he was being.

"You're the guy that Y/N almost decapitated last week," she teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, completely ignoring Arthur's questions. "Oh, you are cute!"

Sienna then glances at you, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "You were right, he is cute," she says, with a playful wink in your direction.

As Sienna's playful words sink in, you feel a blush creeping up on your face. Sienna always lost whatever little filter she had when she was drunk.

You catch Arthur glancing at you for a second, and you quickly avert your gaze, attempting to hide your flushing cheeks.

George returns with a bottle of water and hands it to you. You get Sienna to drink as much as she can.

"I should get her to bed then," you announce to the boys. Moving to pick her up, you find her weight causing you to stumble. Just as you're about to lose your balance, Arthur steps in to help, stabilizing both of you.

"I'll help get her back home," Arthur offers. You flash him an appreciative smile. Grateful for his assistance, you nod in agreement.

"It was great meeting you George," you say with a smile as he hands you Sienna's bag.

"It was great meeting you too," George replies warmly. "Take care yeah?", you nod in response.

With a final wave, you and Arthur begin to make your way out of the apartment, Sienna leaning on both of you for support.

---------------

"Alright, Sienna, we're home," you say gently as you now stand in front of your door, slightly nudging her, waking her up, as she had managed to doze off while you were getting the door open. You carefully guide her through the door with Arthur's assistance.

"Her bedroom is just down the hall." You say to Arthur and he helps you get her to her room.

"Let's get you settled then," you say to Sienna as you lay her in her bed and take her heels off. Arthur steps aside for a moment while you tuck Sienna into bed and ensure she's comfortable.

Once Sienna is settled, you glance at Arthur and gesture him to leave with you. The two of you leave her bedroom as quietly as possible, and you step outside your flat so you can thank him and see him off.

You and Arthur stand in the hallway outside your door, a quiet moment settling between you.

"Thank you again for helping me with Sienna," you say, breaking the silence.

Arthur shakes his head, "It wasn't a bother at all," he replies sincerely, his eyes reflecting genuine kindness. Then, he remarks, "You and Sienna seem really close."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we've known each other since we were about 10 years old. She's probably the only person in the world who knows me better than I know myself," you explain. Arthur listens attentively, admiring you as you talk about your best friend with a slight twinkle in your eye.

Arthur nods with a smile. "It was great seeing you again," he says, and you return his smile, expressing your mutual sentiment.

He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. "Could I get your number?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he hands you his phone.

You take the phone with a smile, feeling the subtle tension building in the air. After exchanging numbers, a moment of silence passes as you gaze into each other's eyes. In that moment, you notice just how close he's stood, his height easily towering over you.

In a low voice, you say, "I really enjoyed speaking with you today," with a smile. Arthur replies, "So did I."

The tension between you grows palpable, and Arthur breaks the silence. "I think we should hang out more often," he suggests.

"Yeah, I think so too," you reply, excitement lacing your voice.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still flowing in your system, or maybe it was the feeling of anticipation that was building, almost like each of you was waiting for the other to say or do something, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man standing ever so close to you, with his pretty brown eyes and a charming smile that was already getting you weak at your knees. Whatever the reason may be, all you knew is that you were feeling surprisingly bold tonight.

Without another word, you lean in, deciding to shoot your shot with the guy who only came into your life a week ago. Arthur reciprocates, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. His hands come up to your waist, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls you almost flush against his hard chest. The sudden contact causes a light gasp to escape your mouth. Arthur takes the chance as he slips his hot tongue into your mouth. Arthur's tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and a warmth spreads down your body.

He gently pushes you up against your door as he deepens the kiss further. You find yourself melting into his touch, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. You give his fluffy soft hair a slight tug, causing Arthur to let out a low groan and he tries to get even closer to you, as if that were even physically possible anymore.

You feel his warm hand snake up the back of your shirt and settle on the low of your back, the sensation turning your legs to jelly.

If someone would have told you a month a ago that you’d be making out with a guy you had just met outside of your flat in London, you would have laughed at their face.

This particular moment was absolutely perfect and you did not wanna stop anytime soon.

Eventually, the two of you pull away breathless, panting for air. Both of you look at each other with matching lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.

In that moment the both of you let out a laugh, now feeling a lot lighter after breaking the tension.

Arthur takes a step back and looks like he is about to say something. But, before he can get a word in, a loud thud interrupts the moment from inside your flat.

The sounds causes you to jolt and step away from the door. You turn around to open the door, hoping that Sienna hadn't hurt herself in her drunk state.

Before you stepped into you flat, you turn to Arthur. "I had a really good time tonight," you say, smiling. He returns you that swoon worthy smile of his.

"I'll see you later." He says with a goodbye.

With that, you head inside, a goofy smile of your own plastered across your face. You lean against your door and take a moment to process what just happened.

"Y/N", your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Sienna call out to you from inside her bedroom.

"Coming," you reply, heading in her direction, your mind still reeling from the passionate moment you shared with Arthur.

Once you had made sure that Sienna was all good and tucked back into bed, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, with flushed cheeks, replaying the events of tonight.

Your phone dings beside you, lighting up your dark bedroom. You peer over to see a "Hi" from an unknown number and at that moment you knew that this new chapter of your life in London, might just be the best one yet.

Part 2

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A/N: AAAAAAHHHH! I still can't believe that I've finally gotten my first fic up. I kind of want to write a part 2 for this fic. I’m envisioning cute museum dates and late night ramblings. Something that is in the same universe as this story. Let me know what you think.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊

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