#file under : career
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normalize having low ambitions. it is no bad thing to want an obscure and simple life
#in fact I’d say it’s a good and noble thing#my highest aspiration is to get married and raise children quietly and follow my husband to heaven. idc about career or fame or anything#just give me a quiet little life. ordinary. unknown by the world#catholic#file under caroline
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I AM A DREAMER: TEASER 1.
#graphic design is my passion!#i need to make a second teaser but that'll prob be next week#╰ ♡ filed under: i am a dreamer.#╰ ♡ filed under: career.
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
“I don’t like this.”
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.
You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”
“Classified?” You finish for her.
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”
The less there is to make you a target.
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.
That, and the excuse for violence.
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”
You look nervous.
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.
His omega.
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.
He doesn’t even want to think about that.
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says.
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”
He hasn’t failed her yet.
Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.
One more to go.
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.
He’s going to be a problem.
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.
“Coming, Si?”
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.
You can hold power over them.
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
“You lived on base?” He asks.
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.
He’s going to be a problem.
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?
What if they don’t like the way you smell?
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.
“Ready?”
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.
He’s testing you.
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.
They could if they wanted to.
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.
“You hungry, pup?”
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.
Pup. Price called you Pup.
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.
He’s proving his ability as a provider.
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.
I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#a/b/o
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smile more.
TYPE ZERO MISSION : first fanmeet experience solo
COUNT : 395 words
“hello!” dowoon greeted brightly as his first fan came up to him. she was a shorter girl with straight bangs and a white shirt with a large sun covering most of the front. she introduced herself and handed dowoon a bright blue flower crown, which he immediately placed delicately on his head. once that was done, he asked her “can i tell you a secret?”
he cupped his hand to the side of his face and lowered his voice to a loud whisper (there was a lot going on so he wanted to make sure the fan could still hear him) “you’re the first fan i’ve ever met properly, so i’m kinda nervous...” he looked down shyly. the girl began to protest that no, she should be the nervous one of the two. dowoon giggled and covered his mouth to hide his laughing face. again, she protested that he shouldn’t hide his smile, since it was cute. at that he got really shy and could feel his cheeks warm.
he got the signal from the staff to wrap up the interaction, so he asked her, “am i signing this?” referring to the album that she had place on the table in front of him. she nodded and thanked him. she added that she really enjoyed his performances and his progress--since she had been a fan since future dreams. “thank you!” he responded eagerly. he knew he was one of the more popular male members on that season because of the rankings, but it was a different feeling to see a living, breathing human representing his old rank. “and thank you for continuing to support me and type zero. we--i wouldn’t be here without you.” he added and meant it. dowoon felt incredibly lucky to have been given the support he has been...he wasn’t sure he deserved most of it, but was grateful for it nevertheless.
once it was really time for this fan to leave and the next one to come, he looked at the girl and asked, “before you go: how did i do for my first time?” she responded that she thought he did well, but to remember to smile openly and proudly. in response, dowoon smiled wide and if her shy and giddy expression was any indication that was the correct move. he thanked her again and bid her a good farewell.
#lgc:typezeromission#file under : solo#i had the sudden urge to write a cute lil dowoon solo pls dni#file under : career#(jk feel free to interact)
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The headline is pretty awful but this is one of those things that gets worse as you read it:
The 14-page petition, filed in Shelby County, Tennessee, probate court, alleges that Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy, who took Oher into their home as a high school student, never adopted him. Instead, less than three months after Oher turned 18 in 2004, the petition says, the couple tricked him into signing a document making them his conservators, which gave them legal authority to make business deals in his name.
"Michael Oher discovered this lie to his chagrin and embarrassment in February of 2023, when he learned that the Conservatorship to which he consented on the basis that doing so would make him a member of the Tuohy family, in fact provided him no familial relationship with the Tuohys."
Oher was a rising high school senior when he signed the conservatorship papers, and he has written that the Tuohys told him that there was essentially no difference between adoption and conservatorship. "They explained to me that it means pretty much the exact same thing as 'adoptive parents,' but that the laws were just written in a way that took my age into account," Oher wrote in his 2011 best-selling memoir "I Beat the Odds."
But there are some important legal distinctions. If Oher had been adopted by the Tuohys, he would have been a legal member of their family, and he would have retained power to handle his own financial affairs. Under the conservatorship, Oher surrendered that authority to the Tuohys, even though he was a legal adult with no known physical or psychological disabilities.
While the [movie] deal allowed the Tuohys to profit from the film, the petition alleges, a separate 2007 contract purportedly signed by Oher appears to "give away" to 20th Century Fox Studios the life rights to his story "without any payment whatsoever." The filing says Oher has no recollection of signing that contract, and even if he did, no one explained its implications to him.
The [movie] deal lists all four Tuohy family members as having the same representative at Creative Artists Agency, the petition says. But Oher's agent, who would receive movie contract and payment notices, is listed as Debra Branan, a close family friend of the Tuohys and the same lawyer who filed the 2004 conservatorship petition, the petition alleges. Branan did not return a call to her law office on Monday.
"Mike's relationship with the Tuohy family started to decline when he discovered that he was portrayed in the movie as unintelligent," Stranch said. "Their relationship continued to deteriorate as he learned that he was the only member of the family not receiving royalty checks from the movie, and it was permanently fractured when he realized he wasn't adopted and a part of the family."
For years, Oher has chafed at how "The Blind Side" depicted him, saying it hurt his football career and clouded how people view him. He has said that based on the film, some NFL decision-makers assumed he was mentally slow or lacked leadership skills.
"People look at me, and they take things away from me because of a movie," Oher told ESPN in 2015. "They don't really see the skills and the kind of player I am."
"Beyond the details of the deal, the politics, and the money behind the book and movie, it was the principle of the choices some people made that cut me the deepest."
#original post#the blind side#michael oher#this is one of the worst things i’ve ever read#this movie always was awful but somehow it got worse
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: just a short lil blurb idea I had whilst procrastinating from finishing my other two WIP’s xoxo
warning: implied age gap of reader being a “young woman”, but no specific reference to Spencer’s age, I just envision this as a very post-prison thing for him to do
Listen
“Excuse me, lady, but you don’t get to waltz in here and start ordering my officers around. This your first day on the job or something, sweetheart?” The local chief of police smirks down at you, condescension dripping from his every word.
That, coupled with his casual misogyny, is enough to have you smirking right back at him.
Shocker, another old-fashioned cop assuming that a young woman like you doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s almost laughable. Almost.
“FBI Agent first, ‘lady’ second, and ‘sweetheart’? Not under any circumstances. I’m here with the rest of my team to assist you on a case that you’ve requested our help to solve. You don’t like the way we do things? Raise a formal complaint. If you want this case solved, you’ll do well to listen to the advice given. This is far from my first case, and you are far from the first police chief to invalidate that.” Your voice is the epitome of cool, calm and collected.
Naturally, that only aggravates the ignorant man in front of you. More predictable than a- well, actually, there are few things more predictable than the fragile masculinity found in a man like this.
“I’ll be happy to listen to your boss before I take any orders from a girl with a mouth bigger than it ought to be.” The local chief of police eyes you up and down, as if to intimidate you by comparing your stature to his.
Much to his surprise - and absolute dismay - his efforts are in vain. This is made clear when a quiet laugh passes your lips and you lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest and looking to your left.
Moments later, as though emerging from the shadows, Doctor Spencer Reid takes the few large strides necessary to reach your side. A formidable force, exacerbated by the dark scowl that’s etched into his features and directed at the local chief of police. Having not long returned from visiting a crime scene, he had overheard the conversation between you and elected to wait before he stepped in, hypothesizing both how far the ignorance would go, and how long he would be able to hear it before seeing red.
“If you value the continued use of your jaw, I’d advise you close it and listen. Disrespect Agent (Y/N) again and this entire precinct will suffer the consequences of your ignorance.” Spencer’s threat is eerily quiet and, while unprofessional by nature, the intent is understood to the extent that even a local chief of police wouldn’t dare call it into question.
The man caught in Spencer’s glare visibly shrinks, clears his throat, and pretends to find something to very quickly busy himself elsewhere. The glare follows him until he’s out of sight.
“I could have Garcia file a report severe enough to end that man’s career.” Spencer murmurs, gaze fixed on the door that the ignorance left through.
Turning to face Spencer, you smile up at him sweetly and pat his chest, your palm against his tie when the contact snaps his eyes back down to look at you.
“I think making him ruin his briefs in the workplace is punishment enough.” You joke lightly, your words enough to cause a smile to curl at the corner of Spencer’s mouth, a silent understanding caught in your locked gazes.
Nobody disrespects you and gets away with it, not so long as Doctor Spencer Reid is around to commit verbal homicide.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#x reader#spencer reid headcannon#imagine#imagines#fanfic#fanfiction#headcannon#headcannons#spencer reid imagines
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OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU
synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.
tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc
wc: 5.2K
In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.
You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.
“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”
You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.
Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.
“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.
Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.
He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.
“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.
“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.
“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.
“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.
“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.
Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.
“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.
“Then what’s the damn problem?”
The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.
“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.
Dream walker.
At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.
The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.
Until Okumura Yukiko.
At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.
When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.
Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.
Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.
Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.
Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.
Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”
Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.
Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.
And then everything stops.
Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.
Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.
“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.
The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.
“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.
“Do you go to school here?”
“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”
Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”
Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.
You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.
Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.
Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.
Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.
“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”
“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.
“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”
Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.
But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.
The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.
A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.
A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.
They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.
“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”
Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.
You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.
“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”
Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.
With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.
You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.
You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.
Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.
You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.
You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.
Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.
It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.
Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.
The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”
Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.
It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.
Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.
One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.
Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.
Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.
“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”
Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.
Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.
Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.
“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.
“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.
“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.
“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.
“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.
Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”
You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.
“You remembered this old thing?”
Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.
Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.
You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.
“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.
Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.
He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”
You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.
Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”
His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.
You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.
“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.
“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.
“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment I admit. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.
“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”
You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. And you wanted to be the one to do it.
“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your grin. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.
“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.
You give an emphatic nod.
“How mad is Kacchan?”
“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”
There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.
“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”
You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way home is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.
Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.
“I’m up,” he says, throat rough from disuse. There’s a shaky smile on his face. “I’m home”.
Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.
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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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are we talking about broke therapists yet?
I've been out of things for a couple of years now, which is why I'm willing to talk about it, and maybe the pandemic has helped things a little, but holy shit the counselling and psychotherapy field is not equipped to help its practitioners in the gig economy.
Of all my interests and talents, I pursued a degree in psychology because being a therapist is supposed to be a safe, stable, well-paid job. Every therapist I met who was registered before 2008 worked and lived under that assumption. And oh boy are all the fee structures--registration, supervision, continuing education, conferences--set up for that scenario.
After getting my Master's, I struggled like hell to get a job. It was especially bad because to get my license, I needed a supervisor to take me on. To take me on, most supervisors wanted me to already have a caseload and client base. To get a caseload and client base, I needed a job.
Friends: Every single job I heard back on wanted me to have my license before I could even land an interview.
Professors and career advisors and professional development specialists all advised me very earnestly to just keep cold-calling people on the supervision list, and it began to feel a lot like my parents' friends telling me to hit the bricks and hand out resumes. That's what worked for them, right?
I finally got a supervisor who agreed to take me on, and I'd be able to use her clinic for advertising and workspace, and we were doing the paperwork to send in with my registration, when she called me up and said, "Is this job going to be your only source of income? If you're trying to depend on getting clients and building your practice for your basic needs, this is not going to work out. This has to be something you're doing on top of a basic salary. Okay, so you're not working anywhere else right now? I'm sorry, I can't move forward with this."
Even once I landed a supervisor and a job building my own private practice, I struggled. I have ADHD and am not great at self-promotion, so trying to do all my own advertising, scheduling, bookkeeping, billing, and records management (on top of counselling) was an enormous strain. One my bosses, supervisors, and other senior professionals watched with a slightly critical eye, but consoled me about because in their early days, their clinics had had business managers, receptionists, filing clerks, and accountants, and getting used to doing everything online yourself was a bit of a learning curve, wasn't it?
I counted my pennies very carefully, because I had to pay my supervisor roughly $180 for their services every 6 hours of in-person counselling I did. This meant that to break even I had to charge my clients an average of about $30 (plus room rental and service fees) an hour--and my clients, being people with complex trauma, were frequently poor, disabled, unemployed, and had no health benefits, so even $10 or $20 a session was a lot for them.
Maybe it would have been easier if I could have taken some of those nice comfortable organization positions where they find clients and funding for you and you work 40 hours a week and get benefits and a pension, but I had to be disabled into the bargain, so working 40 hours a week just isn't possible for me. I start passing out from stress and exhaustion. Older colleagues gave me serious-faced advice about approaching my employer and asking them for some flexibility and accommodation in my schedule, and I tried to explain across the gap between us that employers simply did not hire me if I made the slightest noise about the workload. They weren't going to invest in me as a person; they were hiring 40 units of work a week, and if I wouldn't do it there were a dozen applicants after me who would.
At one point I broke down enough to email my licensing body because the Annual General Meeting/Professional Development Conference was coming up, and I wanted to attend, but I could not produce $500 to do it with. Was there some kind of way I could attend anyway? I felt ashamed to have to ask, and then absolutely mortified when the response came from the organization president, who needed to personally sign off on me being too poor to attend the single most important event in my profession's calendar year.
I honestly felt so ashamed all the time at how I was apparently failing to be a successful therapist, failing to be rich and successful, and every time I mentioned it around mentors and bosses, I could feel myself shrinking from a person to a problem to be solved. My closest therapist-friends and I have reflected on how much more difficult, poorly-paid and underworked, our various career starts have been than we were ever warned about. About the classmates and coworkers who couldn't get disability exceptions when they fell behind in their registration requirements, or burned out and left the field, or dropped their registrations and took up as life coaches, or moved their whole family somewhere exceptionally remote or rural because it was the only good job available, or worked for some godforsaken app skirting the bounds of malpractice like BetterHelp.
I like those conversations, because I feel less like an absolute fuck-up in them. There's less "Hey Lis, you were so talented in grad school, I really admired you, what are you doing now?" "Oh, I, uh... am professionally disabled, so I get government benefits, and I... sell embroidery patterns on Etsy now."
My own therapist kept asking if and when I felt like going back to being a counsellor, and I finally told him: I don't, actually. I don't want to go back and do it like I was doing it before. It was a profession I loved to the depths of my soul, and it profoundly did not love me back. I can't even imagine what would have to change, in me or it, to make it have a space in it that could fit me.
All of which I was way too scared to admit to at the time, because the more I let people know I was struggling, the more they hinted that maybe I just wasn't in a place in my life where this was a job I could do, and I needed to take a little break and wait to come back until money and disability just weren't issues for me anymore.
Eventually my cups of doubt and exhaustion did overflow, and I quit. I'm here now, living a much different life. And at the very least, all my years of helping people in bad life situations set me up perfectly for my own. I already knew what form to fill out for financial assistance, which student clinics to access for mental health support, and which government agency would, if pressed, cough out pharmacy coverage for the genuinely destitute. It gave me that much.
I hope this is just me being in extraordinary circumstances, sitting at the intersections of a few different shitty life situations that most people skip right past. Because it's on one level comforting, but another deeply infuriating, if I'm not, and I've just missed it or we've just all been too afraid to admit it to each other.
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Full Set- M. Sturniolo
pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo
classification: mostly fluff
warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)
summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.
—
“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.
You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.
When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”
She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.
In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”
The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”
What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’
“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.
“Do you think we can add more glitter?”
—
After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.
As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.
Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.
For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.
You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:
@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!
Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!
@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!
He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.
—
The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.
When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.
Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.
You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.
“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.
“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.
“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.
“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.
“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”
Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.
“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.
Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.
Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.
“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she’s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.
“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.
“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.
“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.
“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.
“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.
As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.
While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”
You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.
—
The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.
“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.
“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’
You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.
Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.
To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.
You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.
The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.
Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”
“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.
“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.
“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.
Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”
—
When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.
When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.
It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.
Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:
@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!
‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:
@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)
What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.
@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!
The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.
Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.
“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.
“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.
“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”
You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.
“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.
“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.
—
The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.
While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.
When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?
“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.
Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.
He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.
Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.
Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.
—
For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.
Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.
Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.
When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.
He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.
“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.
“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.
—
When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.
You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.
“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.
“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”
“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.
Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.
Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”
His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.
Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.
“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.
“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.
“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.
There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.
“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.
“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.
You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.
—
MASTERLIST
A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#matt x reader#Matthew sturniolo x reader#Matthew sturniolo x y/n
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Antiquated Brindleton
An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File
This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.
Download and details under the cut:
SAVE DETAILS:
Includes:
Eight new residential lots
Seven new community lots
Six new households
Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.
Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.
Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.
If you’d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.
REQUIREMENTS:
I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there.
If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits!
This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.
CC To Download:
@lilis-palace
FOLKLORE Set
@s-imagination
Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack
@happylifesims
1840s Suspenders Outfit
1900s Male Hunting Fashion
1920s Nightgown
Piteous Outfit
Sylas Fashion Set
Wilbur Outfit
@satterlly
Medieval Nightgown Della
@vroshii
Functional Tennis Set
@vampireloreskill
Antique Standing Camera
Creators Whose CC I Included:
@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)
@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)
@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)
@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)
@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)
@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)
@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)
@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)
@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)
@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)
@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)
@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)
@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)
Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much.
Recommended but not required mods:
Timeless by @pandorasimbox
Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)
Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks
Home Regions by Kuttoe
DOWNLOAD:
There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.
Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).
The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.
After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot.
SFS | Google Drive
THANK YOU:
To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.
If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!
@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters
#ts4 save file#sims 4 save file#save file#ts4 decades challenge#sims 4 decades challenge#ts4 build#sims 4 build#ts4 historical#sims 4 historical#sims 4 history challenge#ts4 history challenge#antiquatedbrindleton
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I AM A DREAMER: TEASER 2.
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[someone older]
pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader
reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.
summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be
content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation
characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)
author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....
[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]
ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.
NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.
JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.
TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.
DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.
CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?
SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?
HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.
RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.
#enihkwrites#zhongli x reader#neuvilette x reader#genshin x reader#jing yuan x reader#hsr x reader#tang gunak#return of the mount hua sect x reader#return of the blossoming blade x reader#dokgo#return of the mad demon#chongyue x reader#chongyue arknights#arknights x reader#shamane reverse 1999#re1999 x reader#higuruma x reader#jjk x reader#ryu gokurakugai#gokurakugai x reader#i really mean it when i say i don't play about the dilfs or dilf adjacent or any middle aged men in media#like i need to do things to their cervix so bad#yall best bet i wrote this whole thing with one hand
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NSFW Captain MacTavish Headcanons
Tags: F! Reader, Power imbalances, Secret affair, Semi-Public sex, Fluff, CILF (Captain I'd like to fuck)
Captain MacTavish, John, as you know him in private, is a very serious, forthright type of man
(Though he prefers ‘sir’ when you’re in his bed, or over his desk for that matter)
You can tell he used to be much more reckless than he is now, used to taunt danger and escape the jaws of death just for the adrenaline of it. He’s one of the few soldiers that survived such a reckless approach to his work, and the grim reality of the risks he took, and how he fatefully defied them has settled in a severe glint of his eyes that speaks of his experience, the men he’s lost in the course of it all
Yet, to you, John is the type of man that still flirts with danger, and smiles in the face of consequences
You shouldn’t even be doing this to begin with- this secret affair of pretending to be his closest hand, his trusted intelligence officer when in reality all he’s doing is using it as an excuse to fuck you behind closed doors
“Swamped with reports.” He tells you when you offer him a cuppa one morning, not even looking up from the small mountain of paperwork on his desk. “I’ll be needing your help this evening.”
‘Help’ is defined as you riding his cock until your thighs burn once the rest of the base has gone to bed, and nobody in the surrounding offices is there to hear your breathless chants of his name
It’s almost shameful how much you get away with under the guise of being his trusted subordinate, a fact he fully exploits and plays to as often as he can
He opens doors for you, stands up for you in front of his fellow officers, lauds recommendations and praises of your work, takes you out to lunch under the excuse of mentorship, declares you as his protege that’s destined to follow in his footsteps
Your fellow intelligence officers tell you how lucky you are, having a captain who is so decent and handsome. A true gentleman, one who shows care and concern for your career development, who ensures you get recognition for the hours you put in, always having to work overtime but getting to work alongside the Captain MacTavish
“You’re his work wife.” Roach texts you, and when you show John he barks a laugh so loud you jump
If only they knew.
They don’t know about the way he’ll have you cockwarm him, fingers idly rubbing your clit with one hand while holding a phone with the other, talking to one of his agents in the field as he uses his knees to spread you out on his lap
Nor do they know about him catching you in the hallway and corralling you into a supply closet just to kneel and have you grind against his face until you have to muffle the sound of your climax, using one of the extra paper towels to wipe most of his jaw clean after.
He sends you on your merry way, gives you a smack on the ass for your trouble
They don’t know how he’ll insist you work through your lunch break, when in reality he’s eating you out slow and greedy with you perched atop the reports he’s yet to read, and warns you to not dribble wetness onto the files
They don’t know about the time he found you just before drills and left a load deep inside you, then stood under the rope wall to catch a glance and see if there was a wet spot in your pants that spoke of him
And he smugly ignored your reply to another soldier about why you were walking a little odd, telling him instead that you slept the wrong way
They don’t know about how you’ll visit him after a long, tiresome day just to have him crowd you into his bed, whisper filthy praises and pet names into your ear until you beg to tap out from the overstimulation
He calls you ‘Bonnie’ ‘Sweetheart’ ‘Little one’ ‘Darling’ ‘Angel’ ‘His.’
He tells you how good you look in his bed, glassy eyed and needy, how much he loves hearing you, teases you when you can’t bear the incessant filthy rambling and smack weakly at his shoulder, head flopping to the side as your chest heaves for breath
All the while he takes his time stretching you out over his fingers, greedily enjoying the sensation of you clenching down on him and wanting more
He fucks you slow and greedy, using his full weight and strength to bend you as he pleases, punch keening little sounds out of you and groaning in turn when you dig your nails sharp into the curve of his spine
He wears them proudly on the sparring mats, and through some miracle nobody suspects it’s you that put them there
He presses his forehead to yours as he’s buried deep inside you, reminds you again that you’re his, in a plea that sounds almost desperate with want.
He’s allowed to have you, he tells himself. He’s allowed this for all the things he’s done to better the world, even if it means bathing himself in cardinal sin
He makes sure to earn it too
Your longer sessions, those uninterrupted by duty or the gravity of your illicit affair, are often your favorite
They always end with you warm and sated, curled on his hairy chest and skimming your nails through the coarse carpet of hair that traps the earthy, musky smell of him familiar to your senses
He peppers you with kisses, reminds you of how much a good lass you are, of how much he adores you, how beautiful you are, how smart, how clever and bonnie you are
He asks you what he did to deserve a precious, sweet thing like you, and can’t help but wonder the same about him
He cares about you, that much is clear
As fun as this little secret of yours is, you know John didn’t walk into this idly. Nothing he ever does is without purpose. He spent his younger years fooling about, and now he’s settled into a man who knows exactly what he wants
And that’s you, soft and sweet and ready for him, sated and sleepy in his bed when he comes back from missions still stinking of smoke, hauling you to his exhausted form and falling asleep with you safe in his arms
He braces his chin over your shoulder as you stand in front of the sink the next morning, humming and rocking back and forth, trying to catch as many moments with you in his hold as he can
Later, he settles a heavy, calloused hand over your nap and drags you back so he can plant a kiss on the crown of your head when the others can’t see, a good luck parting before he boards for the next mission
In the rare days off, he keeps you in his bed until late morning, sunlight streaming through the blinds and onto your drowsy, dreamy expression
He tells you how he can’t be in the service forever, how he thinks he’ll head back to Scotland once he gets enough close calls. He tells you he wants you to come with him, how he knows the perfect place for you both
“And maybe a few bairns.” He adds, grinning at the thought. “As many as I can carry.”
You tell him you’ve watched him carry men larger than he is off the field, if that’s any indication
He considers this seriously too, nodding to himself in thought.
“We’ll need a bigger house.” He offers at last, and then bends to kiss your giggling smile one more
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Turn On/Off Replacements: No Zombies Edition
+ 3t2 Trait Support
This is basically an update of my TO replacements, but I want to keep the post clear, so I'm sharing it as a new version.
Here's what got changed:
⭐ No More Glasses Zombie TO
Instead of zombies, you'll get a brand new TO: Enthusiast. It's triggered by sims who are invested in their hobbies.
⭐ 3t2 Trait Support
If you use 3t2 traits, sims with fitting traits will trigger directly related turn on/offs. This is only a subtle flavor; if you want the whole chemistry system to be trait-based, this mod isn't for you. These replacements still work just as well even if you don't have 3t2 traits in your game.
⭐ Polished Icons
All the TS4 icons are now slightly smaller and hopefully work better with UI replacements. I also changed or edited some that I felt needed improving.
There are still two versions of the mod: the other replaces the Grey Hair TO with the Mersim one, the other leaves it untouched. Both versions are included with the download.
Download (SFS) (alternate)
Files are compressed. Probably requires all EPs. Conflicts with other turn on/off replacements (including my old versions), tunaisafish’s Attraction Traits Fix, and might conflict with cologne-related mods.
Compatible with UI replacements as long as this mod loads after.
🚨🚨 The Mersim version requires Midge’s Mermaid Mod.
Translations included: Spanish, Italian, Swedish, Finnish.
Update (31.3.2024): The alien trait by @tammyhybrid21 now triggers the Alien TO too.
Update (11.1.2024): Enthusiast TO now replaces zombies instead of glasses.
Update (11.1.2024): Changed it so that business owners with level 6 or higher business and young adults with a GPA 3.7 or higher also count as hard workers.
Credits to @lazyduchess, @midgethetree, and simler90 for the groundwork and bits and pieces used in the mod. Translations by @bothersomecryptid, @themeasureofasim, @dystopianam, and @vegan-kaktus.
Full list of the TOs under the cut.
Replaced TOs:
Cologne -> Life Skills (has learned at least two of the life skills)
Stink -> Poor (household fortune* ~§20 000 or lower)
Underwear -> Rich (household fortune* ~§100 000 or higher)
Swimwear -> Great Dancer (dance skill 6 or higher)
Formalwear -> Pet Lover (has at least two pet friends or the Animal Lover trait)
Full Face Makeup -> Talented (has at least one silver or gold talent badge)
Hats -> Good Reputation (reputation level Reputable Resident or better)
Jewelry -> Bad Reputation (reputation level Lousy Loser or worse)
Custom Hair -> Alien (either skintone, eyes, or both, or the alien trait)
Zombie -> Enthusiast (level 5 or higher on at least one hobby)
Grey Hair -> Mersim (with Mersim version)
TOs with additional new trait support:
Hard Worker (career level 6 or higher, teen career level 3, owned business level 6 or higher, young adult with a GPA 3.7 or higher, or the Workaholic trait)
Logical (logic skill 5 or higher or the Genius trait)
Charismatic (charisma skill 5 or higher or the Charismatic trait)
Great Cook (cooking skill 5 or higher or the Natural cook trait)
Mechanical (mechanic skill 5 or higher or the Handy trait)
Creative (creativity skill 5 or higher or the Artistic trait)
Athletic (body skill 5 or higher or the Athletic trait)
Good at Cleaning (cleaning skill 5 or higher or the Neat trait)
Unedited TOs:
Fatness (TS4 icon)
Fitness (TS4 icon)
Facial Hair
Glasses (TS4 icon)
Makeup (TS4 icon)
Blonde Hair
Red Hair
Brown Hair
Black Hair
Grey Hair (without Mersim version)
Unemployed (TS4 icon)
Vampire (TS4 icon)
Robot (TS4 icon)
Plantsim (TS4 icon)
Lycanthropy (TS4 icon)
Witch (TS4 icon)
For the sake of cohesion, all the supernatural TOs now have simpler, singular names (instead of vampirism, plantsimism, and witchiness).
*The household fortune is counted by its funds, the lot value (if the home lot is residential), and other owned lots. The precise value that triggers the TO might slightly vary.
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Family Pack #4
I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.
Abreu
A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.
Naval
Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.
Monaghan
As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.
Larson
Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.
Agawa
Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.
Hollifield
As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.
Catton
Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.
Qian
After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.
Sullivan
Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.
Kingsley-Ramirez
Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.
Tanaka-Murdock
Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.
Miyake
Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.
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