#i went to see muse tonight and they were incredible but the crowd was so fucking BORING

[watchmakermori]

I'm not a gatekeeper in most respects BUT if you go to a concert and then just sit there recording the whole thing on your phone, you could just stay at home. it ruins the vibe for everyone when members of the crowd don't engage. get up and do your fucking bit mate

[cakeinpants]

Kyung and Pat dance.

It may have been a rough start, but they really put on a show in the end~

Attaching a part of our RP thread with @brassclaws-of-oddworld​ for context. I shortened and rearranged the text a little so that it's easier to read, but it's still a lotta words so I'm putting it under "keep reading" for the most curious followers x)

.....

Malgaine seemed to have gotten immersed in a conversation with Shinju again, while Pat was left to stand around awkwardly in front of Kyung, waiting if she's going to say anything.. She did.

“My, they all look like they’d make wonderful dance partners…” Kyung mused aloud, as she saw the ladies occasionally glance towards Pat, tilting her head while she took note of all their extravagant costumes.

"They sure do.." he agreed, turning to look in the same direction as Kyung. "Everyone really came looking their best tonight," he smiled, admiring the festive colorful view. "Waltzing with a partner is such an unforgettable feeling!" He added dreamily, then turned to Kyung curiously, seeing her eyes shining with excitement. "Do you have a dance partner for tonight?"

Kyung perked up at the question, turning her attention back onto Pat with a nonchalant smile before simply shaking her head and shrugging. “I don’t think I have one yet, but hopefully there will be someone who is eager to start dancing too!” She answered truthfully, her voice trailing off a bit as she turned her head to briefly scan the crowds before focusing back on Pat. “There really is something incredible about dancing with company…” Even though she didn’t show it, part of her was holding out a shred of hope that she’d be qualified to dance with Pat. However, the majority of her mind was already at peace with the possibility that she wouldn’t.

"It's a very good waltz, isn't it--" Pat remarked somewhat distractedly, taking a moment to listen to the music. "Such energy, it just makes your body want to move… Zeafolt's "Voice of midnight lights," He added with respect in his voice. Kyung took note of the name of the waltz, stashing it away in her memory for later.

The first couples had already started entering the dance floor. Two unfamiliar Vykkers went waddling clumsily around the floor in a manner that somewhat resembled dancing, with expressions of utter happiness on their faces. Alkura strolled in paired with Ilvik. Then some other Glukks joined, pacing to the rhythm on their long legs… The glukkons were wearing special costumes that didn't restrict their movement as much as regular suits, but the view was still far from graceful…

Finally, a sign that she could potentially start moving and burning the pent up energy that had been restrained for the first part of that evening. As the two observed the first ones to start waltzing, Kyung couldn’t help but stare in pure fascination at the Vykkers and Glukkons, taking in the expressions on their faces as well as the slightly clumsy motions.

“Hmm… You know, it’s quite funny… Even though waltz music is a style that I don’t get to dance to very often, I think I can already feel a part of myself resonating with the rhythm…” She commented pensively while a clawed palp tapped against her chin, and her head began to nod from side to side to the beat.

The music lured Pat to the dance floor, and he was eager to show some real dancing to everyone. And the ladies are waiting… But Kyung kept talking with a wide smile on her face with such enthusiasm about the topic, he felt bad to just leave her alone. He kept listening and nodding politely as she spoke, unable to bring himself to just stop the conversation and walk away, seeing how excited she was about this waltz. And then the words just came out of his mouth on their own.

"Would… would you like to dance?.."

Her heart skipped a beat once the question was asked. The invitation to dance with him.. Turning to look at the Mudokon, Kyung couldn’t help but practically beam with delight before nodding her head– Then took a moment to calm herself down, and gave a much more formal answer once she regained composure.

“It would be an honor to dance with you, Oddett.” She accepted graciously while giving a small curtsy.

Malgaine turned briefly to Pat with a surprised look, then shrugged and returned to his conversation with Shinju…

Halfway through the sentence Pat already regretted his words. Why in the odd did he say that? He didn't want to dance with that female! What was he thinking? Now he was stuck with the big scary woman for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile, "the big scary woman" beamed at him with such a joyful smile it seemed like she's about to start jumping up and down. Well.. there's no turning back now…

Pat extended his hand in a formal gesture for Kyung to gently place her clawed paw on it, after which he led her to the dance floor, trying his best to keep composure under the indignant gazes of the mudokon ladies. Some guests appeared to start murmuring to each other, wondering what in the odd they were seeing. Most simply stared, possibly not knowing what to expect from such a bizarre pair making their way onto the dance floor.

It took Pat a second to figure out how to get the dance position right with such an unusual partner. He got confused about which one of her hands to take, and what to do with the "spare" ones. The size difference didn't help either.. The length of his arm wasn't enough to put his hand around her waist in a comfortable way. In addition to that he had to awkwardly keep lifting his head up to actually see her face, and not her.. parts that a gentleman should not be staring at. A heavy arm was placed on his shoulder. Okay, that's way closer to her sharp-toothed smile than he'd ever like to be…

"That's fine.. It can't be all that bad…" he thought, suppressing embarrassment. "Just do what you do best… Let's just hope she's actually a good dancer and won't step on my feet." He concluded before taking the first step…

Despite how much the Mudokon dancer was seemingly struggling, Kyung already knew what to do. She let two of her paws get into the typical waltz position, not as the leader but the lady; her “empty” paws were preoccupied with daintily holding her skirt. Step by step, the unusual pair began waltzing, and to Pat's relief, his feet weren't stepped on so far. Moreover, Kyung really turned out to be quite a good dancer, and held herself freely and confidently, carefully letting Pat lead the dance.

So far so good. Kyung was getting a feel for some of Pat’s foot patterns in their strange little waltz, but that’s when she started to notice something was off. He still wasn’t quite comfortable yet. Even if she was able to pull off elegant twirls that distracted some of the crowd, using her second set of paws to add dramatic effect by fanning the trim of her lusciously long flowing skirt, Pat was still struggling to get the hang of such partnering. It was hard to get any moves right, considering that they were meant for the miniature Mudokon queens, after all, and Kyung was far from that. Not to mention lifts and dips, which wouldn't be a smart thing to even try to do… Pat felt like his whole body was constrained by timidity. And it didn’t go unnoticed by the onlookers. Trying to retain a smile on his face, the dancer gave Kyung an awkward apologetic look…

Kyung knew right then and there that she had to do something. Sure enough, the Jimseomi already had an idea and it was finally time to act on it. Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, Kyung’s expression momentarily gave way to a more reassuring one, hoping she could convey that he was in good hands. With a smile and a wink, Kyung performed a maneuver that evoked a small, amazed gasp from their audience. In one smooth motion, she pulled back into a fan position, keeping one paw holding his while her other three arms waved in a fluid succession before twirling Pat around and catching him in a dramatic low dip.

Now, the roles were switched. Kyung’s first set of arms comfortably held the dancer without any trouble, one arm wrapped securely around his slender waist while the other held his paw. Despite having incredibly sharp claws, it was clear that she knew how to handle others with great care. Given how small and light Pat was in comparison, she hardly had to use her brute strength to keep him steady. But there was still one thing she needed to confirm, so she looked down at him with a quizzical expression that silently asked: “Will you follow my lead?”

…..

[unculturedswine-101]

Dream of only me Neil Diamond x reader

A/N: I am outraged that there are no Neil Diamond fics on here, or virtually anywhere so here we go (this is basically for me only, cry about it)

WARNINGS: Nicknames (baby, honey), Drug use (cigarettes and weed), heavy petting, groping, kissing?

You were backstage at The Greek, another show for Neil, another night of watching him move his hips, body with that guitar of his for all to see. Because of this, it would sometimes be hard to wait until the show was over to be alone together amongst other things...He had about 15 minutes till he had to be onstage so you slipped past security showing your pass and made your way to his dressing room, with his door adorned with a shiny gold star that read 'Neil Diamond' in black cursive letters.

You knocked softly on the door and just as soon as you returned my hand to my side Neil was there meeting me with kind eyes…and no shirt on. "Hey gorgeous" he said in his usual deep tone and pulled your waist in for a kiss, you let out a small moan in surprise as he deepened it, plush lips melding against mine. "Mm, hello to you too" You sighed as he returned to his dressing table and sat back down. He watched as you sauntered to where he was sitting and stood behind where he was sitting as he pulled a cigarette out of his case "I gotta say Neil I like this new look of yours, gonna show all those girls whats mine?" You mused, while running your fingers through his extensive chest hair. Neil chuckled, "Don't worry honey, I got that number ready for tonight" you turned your head and followed his finger to a sequined adorned silver shirt with long lapels , complete with a black sequined vest. “Ha, of course" you smiled as he took a drag of his cigarette. As you went to further inspect the costume, you felt his eyes on you, Neil had been touring non-stop and although you decided to tag a long a couple of times it was certainly not enough for you or Neil. He placed his cigarette oon the ashtray, soon to be long forgotten, "That's a really nice dress babe, you trying to show all the guys whats mine?" You giggled at the repetition of your words from just minutes ago, and began to feel his big arms envelop your waist as he began to plant wet kisses up and down the column of your neck. "Mmm, you sure you have go out there tonight baby" you sighed as Neil turned out around and began sucking marks onto your chest "Neil! people are gonna see those!" You swatted at his arm as he smiled and captured your lips again. You moaned into his mouth and began to run your fingers through his thick brown hair, tugging on it slightly in an attempt to get even closer.

Just as Neil begins to snake an arm up to your tits, a loud wrap comes on the door "Neil ya gotta be on stage in 5" he groans "alright, coming" he groaned separating himself from you, much to your chagrin. "The show must go on" he sighed as he took the shirt fromm behind you and slipped it on and began doing up the buttons one by one. "Let me get that for ya" you smiled as you did up the last two, making sure to leave plenty of room for him to show off his chest. "Thats better" you smiled up at him and letting your hand linger on his chest as you leaned in to give him a quick peck. “Now remember honey, they’re just gonna film me from behind as I go out on stage”, you nodded “wanna go out together?” You asked as you grabbed his hand, and you both walked out of the dressing room towards the stage. Although it felt a little weird knowing there’s a camera filming the both of you, you walk down some stairs until you’re both met with the backstage curtains. “Have a good show honey" you smiled as you Neil gave you a final kiss and soon after jogged out to meet his adoring fans as the roared and clapped.

The concert was an obvious triumph, having people stand up the entire concert, Neil picking out members of the crowd to sing on stage (including Henry Winkler from "Happy Days") and of course Neil’s incredibly tight outfit.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity for his crowd to stop clapping, Neil finally walked off stage, sweaty and laughing to himself. "God, that was an amazing show, baby," you smiled as you wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and kissed him deeply and passionately. "Shit, that good honey?" he smiled pulling back. "Mhm," you giggled as you locked hands and headed back to his dressing room. Before you could even step foot into the room, one of Neil's friends came around the corner "Hey Elton's playing at the Troubadour, you guys coming?" Neil turned to you, looking for your response. You were terribly tired and right now your priority was getting Neil's tight pants off, but you both hadn't seen Elton in a while, you shrugged with a smile and Neil smiled back "sure, I think we're just gonna stop off at home to change, these clothes are soaked, man." His friend nodded and walked away, meanwhile you pulled Neil into the dressing room "yknow I really would have said no, if those pants left more the imagination," you smiled up at him with wide eyes. "Oh yeah?" he smiled, leaning to kiss you, "yeah," you replied smiling into the kiss. Just as your hands snaked around his neck however, they were met with the sweat soaked fabric on his collar.  "Mmm, as much as I would love to continue baby, you really need to change" you said, pulling away. "Fine, fine let's head out." Neil huffed.

You were both finally ready; you had on an even shorter dress which was bell sleeved, black and rings that connected the skirt to the top. Neil sported some bellbottmed jeans and a matching denim shirt which he tucked in. "Can you help me with one more thing honey" you nodded and clicked your way while Neil handed you a gold chain you had gotten him for his birthday last year. You smiled to yourself as you went to secure the necklace behind his neck. You both stopped and stared at eachother for a moment, you were both so happy and in love it was hard to help. Neil broke the contact as he went rummaging through your cigarette box on your coffee table. "Neil you and I both have cigarettes on us" you sighed, looking at your watch. "Not this kind baby" Neil chuckled retrieving what he looking for; a joint. You giggled "I guess it has been a little while.." you laughed as he grabbed a lighter from his jean pocket.

Neil being the gentleman that he is, placed the joint between your plump lips, giving you the first hit. "Let me light your fire, babe" he laughs, concentrating on lighting the joint evenly. You take a long inhale, only to promptly cough, which Neil seems to find hilarious. "Y'okay?" he asks in sincerity, you cough for the final time with a sour expression as you hand the joint to Neil.

You both are stoned by this point, having finished the joint between the two of you and lounging on the couch. "Mmm, this dress is evenn better than your other one, babe" he slurred, his large hand beginning to wander the expanse of your upper thigh. "Heh, it is nice isn't" you smiled lazily toward him, while stroking the side of his face. "Yknoww, we can always have Elton over here sometime, I think I gotta find out whats under this dress of yourss" Neil suggested hiking your already short dress up your legs. "Thats soo true" you giggle as you both slowly lean in to connect your lips. The kiss is sloppy, tongues running along each other, searching for something that you both won’t find. Neil growled as he maneuvers you to straddle his waist. You continue the kiss, while pawing and grasping for flesh; Neil opting to massage the meat of your ass through your panties, and you running and tugging as his thick long hair.

You defiantly didn’t make it to the concert that night.

[skinnyducky]

you’re a winner, baby // v.h.

I got bored doing homework and I got this idea while watching the VMAs so, yeah...here you go! Part four of Party at Y/n’s is coming sometime on Tuesday. Hope you enjoy this one! I’m thinking of doing more with a singer!reader.

vinnie hacker x singer!fem!reader

Word Count: 1115, edited

WARNING: language and mainly fluff

---------

Nerves filled your body as you got closer to the VMAs. This was your first time going and you were nominated for not only “song of the year” but also “artist of the year” and many others. It was crazy to think that within the span of five months you blew up into one of the biggest artists in the world. You went from being known as a TikTok dancer to being seen as a force within the music industry. It was insane, and thankfully, you didn’t have to live through it alone. Your muse, your boyfriend, Vinnie, was right there beside you.

“Are you freaking out?” he asked, placing a hand on your leg.

“No, no…why? Do I look like it?” You gulped. “I’m not sweating, am I? No, I’m not sweating. You’re sweating. What are we talking about?”

He laughed, “Calm down, Y/n. You’re gonna win tonight.”

“You don’t know that. Have you seen the people I’m going up against for my awards? Doja Cat, Billie Eilish, fucking Taylor Swift!” Leaning back in your seat, you pouted. “I have no chance.”

“Babe, you’re probably the biggest artist in the country right now. If you don’t walk away with something, I can guarantee you there’s going to be riots. You need to stop freaking out and think positively.”

He was right, you needed to stop being so pessimistic about this. You had the number one song in the country, a number one album, and you were expected to win big at the upcoming Grammys. You were fucking awesome, and you had Vinnie there to remind you of that.

“Okay, kid. We’re here.” Your manager, Jen, announced from the passenger seat. “You ready for people to see that pretty face of yours?”

You nodded confidently. Vinnie took your hand and gave you a soft smile. “Just do what you do, babe.”

You returned the gesture and waited to be let out. The minute the door opened, you were met with screams and cheers from people. You got of the car with Vinnie following and Jen not to far from the both of you. You waved and blew kisses to your fans and made your way down the red carpet where you were to have you pictures taken. You had some taken of yourself, but you couldn’t take any without your date. The pictures of you and Vinnie cracking jokes and making fun of what others were wearing were sure to be all over Twitter tonight.

Once that was done, Jen took you to the interviewers, where you met with Riley Venders from Entertainment Tonight.

“Oh my goodness, I am here with the beautiful and successful, Y/n! After being the number one artist for majority of the year, how are you!?” Riley exclaimed, pointing the mic to you.

“I’m so good,” you laughed. “I’m very nervous tonight, but that’s to be expected I guess. It’s just a total honor to be here.”

Riley squealed in excitement, “That’s so amazing! Now, you’re nominated for multiple VMAs tonight. How does that feel?”

“It feels *bleep*ing incredible, y’know? I wrote an album based off of my relationship and to have it be cherished by so many people, it’s amazing.”

“Speaking of your relationship, is the boyfriend here now?”

Pointing over at Vinnie, you nodded with a smile. “He is! He’s my date tonight and I’m literally the luckiest girl on the face of the planet. He’s the coolest and most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.”

“That is so wonderful, Y/n! I am so happy for you, I wish you nothing but luck tonight, you look amazing, and I can’t wait to see what you do in the future!”

“Thank you so much!”

You and Riley bid your goodbyes before you had to move onto your next interview. After about three more, you finally were able to go to your seats. Even though you were pretty famous yourself, the fact that you were seated in between Billie Eilish and Alicia Keys was jaw dropping. The show started and you and Vinnie were having the time of your lives, dancing around and lip syncing to Olivia Rodrigo. Then before you know it, the nominees for “song of the year” were being announced.

You sat in silence and fear, watching as your name popped up and your hit single echoed throughout the arena. Screams and wails dwindled down as JLO proceeded to announce the winner.

“And the winner for ‘song of the year’ is…drumroll please.” She opened the envelope and with a smile, she said, “Y/f/n Y/l/n!”

The crowd went wild as your name flashed on the screen. You turned to Vinnie with wide eyes only to be met with his excitement. “I won?” you mouthed. “What the hell?”

“Jesus, Y/n, go!” he laughed, pushing you on stage but not before planting a kiss on your cheek. You stumbled up to the mic, waving to your fans, and giving JLO a hug.

“Holy *bleep*.” You breathed into the mic, picking up your award. “This is so *bleeping*ing incredible. I want to thank my family, my friends, my manager, Jen. I wanna thank the fans for your support and for loving the music. I for sure want to thank my boyfriend, Vinnie.”

Everyone awed and you laughed, moving your attention to the boy. “Without you, I wouldn’t be standing up here. You inspired me so much to make this music and I absolutely can’t thank you enough, babe. You’re the sickest, most coolest person and I’m so lucky to call you mine. So, thank you, and thank you to the VMAs.”

With that, you blew a kiss to the crowd and followed JLO backstage. When you got back to your seat, Vinnie gripped your face and began peppering you with kisses. As much as you loved him, you could’ve gone without that.

“You’re a winner, baby!” He yelled, earning a chuckled from Billie and Finneas beside you. “Also, you’re welcome.”

“For what?”

“For getting you a number one song and a number one album.”

You scoffed, “Please. Just because I thanked you in my speech doesn’t mean you’re allowed to get a big head.”

That night, you went on to win majority of your awards and in all your speeches, you made sure to mention Vinnie’s impact. And as expected, that gassed him up. You spent the entire night in your hotel room listening to him going on and on about how he made you a musical god. While he made sure to praise himself for his part in your success, he couldn’t forget to also praise you for your hard work. He was proud to declare his baby a winner.

[riridontneedya]

IMPERIUM✨

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Any house Reader, Harry Potter x

Wordcount: 4,210

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST dom ,sub, daddy ,oral, teasing ,praise, spitting , chocking etc run of the mill smut.

A/N : Well the time has come I've finally given in.. I say finally didn't take much conviction lol. Anyway in this universe Dumbledore is still very much alive and no-one tried to kill one another so all is well. As always enjoy and let me know what you think xx

Summary: Draco and y/n battle it out for the new position as headmaster but what happens when they are made to work alongside one another

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please” spoke Dumbledore. He arose from his chair gently tapping his knife against his chalice in order to garner the crowds attention . Shortly everyones eyes were fixated on him. He cleared his throat and began. “I would like to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight … as we all know its been a tough decision for me to step down, however! .I have no fear as I know the school will be in the safest of hands. I hand picked these two myself and in-fact trust them with my life. I know they have been working tirelessly day in and out to ensure not only my trust .. but all members of committee and most importantly our students. So with that being said when it is revealed in tomorrows assembly who the new headmaster and deputy are I want you both to know ,no matter the outcome I am so proud of you both, so let us raise a toast to our candidates . Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and Draco Lucius Malfoy”. With that Dumbledore rose his chalice high in the air smiling warmly at the pair. Everybody followed suit and raised their glasses high in celebration.

Draco and Y/N graciously thanked everyone as they showered them with words of praise and encouragement . Just then Y/n went to speak however her words were abruptly cut short by Astoria. As if an eager child unable to contain her excitement she blurted out. “ Draco and I are so grateful for all the support, so as a thank you after this we will be having refreshments and canapés at the Malfoy manor to celebrate his new position as headmaster .. all are welcome to join”. ‘Headmaster .. oh my how incredibly presumptuous” Y/N chuckled into her drink. “Excuse me” squeaked Astoria, she spun around rapidly locking eyes with Y/n. Y/n folded her arms across her chest and began “I do believe you heard me Astoria .. you said headmaster and thats yet to be revealed so for you to address Draco as said headmaster is well.. presumptuous”. Astorias tongue prodded the inside of her cheek, you could tell by the hue of red in her face she was infuriated but trying to find the words without imploding.

“Well , I just know he will ok so yeah just know that”, spat Astoria in a feeble attempt to shake off Y/ns rightful observation’. ‘Oh I see” snapped y/n “why didn't you say it was you sooner, Sybil , Sybil Trelawney teacher of divination . What are you doing here under the guise of Polyjuice potion? I mean you could’ve just come with your crystal ball and tea leaves and said he was the winner that way instead of this elaborate scheme don’t you think?” The laughter of fellow by standers suddenly erupted around the women. Astoria who now sup parsed hues of red was the shade of a beetroot , completely enraged prepared to snap she was interrupted by Dumbledore. “ NOW now girls quell your fiery natures, this is to be a peaceful night of celebrations”. The woman smiled coyly at Dumbledore. ‘My apologies Dumbledore” y/n chimed up. “We speak no more of it ok” Dumbledore smiled and gently patted the crown of y/ns head and proceeded to make his way back to his chair. Y/N turned and smiled gloatingly at Astoria. In response Astoria screwed her face up mockingly and fled no doubt to chastise Draco for not swooping in and defending her.

“Pwoarh Nice one mate” chuckled Fred as he held out his fist waiting for Y/n to bump it. Hahah stop it you she giggled. ‘Here , should we go to the manor after this for a laugh” sniggered George appearing alongside them. “Ha, I'm sure she’s revoked my invitation effective immediately” said Y/n, as she peered over to Astoria , she could see her flailing her arms around whilst Draco made no attempt to conceal his look of boredom in the conversation. “You know what lets .. Ive been dying to get a peek of the manor anyway what harm can it do”. ‘Cracking’ the twins harmonised in unison. The trio linked arms and jollied along.

Once arrived at the manor they soon found it to be every bit luxurious as they envisioned. The floors were marble and reflected the light of the enormous crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Each stair of the grand staircase was illuminated by candle light creating an auburn strip propelling up the length of the stairs. Every inch of the manor oozed with decadence. “Wow , its rather impressive” mused y/n . “You can say that again” chimed Fred as he helped himself to a glass of champagne , handing one over to y/n. They began to mingle and drink with the rest of the party guests it was an overall pleasant evening that was until Astoria appeared before Y/n. “Glad to see you could make it y/n” said Astoria with a constipated smile. She had made little to no effort to conceal her sarcastic tone.

Y/n had no interest in rehashing todays mini confrontation. Instead she pulled a sickly sweet smile and said “ Wouldn’t miss it for the world, thank you for your generous hospitality Ms Green grass.” Astorias face dropped “green green .. she muttered, haha don’t be silly you must get use to calling me Mrs Malfoy”. Now despite y/ns fondness to antagonise Astoria at any given opportunity she couldn’t help but see she was visibly hurt. She immediately began to fumble her words in a bid to preserve her feelings “honestly , Astoria I'm sorry I didn't know the extent of your relationship .. I apologise”. Astoria still hadn’t reacted she stood stationary bottom lip protruding sad and helpless like a lost puppy. Y/n gently squeezed Astorias forearm and began to say “ look you mustn't pay it any mind, Draco wouldn’t dare indulge in any small talk with me about family life .. so don’t stress it congratulations by the way”. Astoria looked up at her with eyes softened . Relief washed over Y/n as she could tell she was receptive to her. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder to herself why he hadn’t mentioned news as big as that , they had worked so closely over these months . To be fair on a good day if you hadn’t known Draco you wouldn’t even know he had a girlfriend let alone fiancé .. or wife ?

Astoria went to talk but just then none other than Draco emerged behind her . His hand came down onto her shoulder. sharply. “ thats enough now sweetheart , I think Daphne was looking for you actually”. There was a weird exchange of eye contact Astoria weakly smiled and left. It was now just y/n and Draco stood before one another. Draco broke the silence by clearing his throat “ Y/L/N, may I interest you in a nightcap in my office ,there are things Id appreciate to discuss before we venture into our new working relationship”. Although slightly bewildered she agreed as after all they were to work alongside one another and she’d rather it be somewhat harmonious than turbulent.

Y/n followed Draco across the length of the great hall and into a pair of grand double doors. The room was vast , books littered the walls as far as the eye could see and in the corner a fireplace roared. Draco stood behind his desk and motioned for y/n to take a seat opposite him. She smoothed the back of her dress and proceeded to make herself comfortable. Draco started pouring whiskey from the crystal decanter into a couple of whiskey tumblers. The burn of the fire whisky ignited as it glided down her throat. The combination of whiskey and champagne left Y/N beginning to feel somewhat merry, she hadn’t really noticed during the quiet sobering conversation with Astoria. ‘So what is it you have in mind Draco?”. His stormy grey eyes peered over at her from behind his glass. ‘Very well” he remarked and manoeuvred himself to Y/NS side of the desk .He perched himself on the edge legs akimbo and both his large veiny hands clasped around his whiskey glass. Y/n inhaled sharply as she averted her gaze from his legs splayed before her. Continuing he said “ As you're aware I have my plans about how Hogwarts should be run , I have a detailed strategy and I plan to implement it as soon as possible .. so what I'm really asking is are you with me or against me because I have no intention of being held back”.

Y/n blinked rapidly .. she was unable to process what he was saying , how could he be so smug thinking he had headmaster place secured already. “ Fuck sake Draco, ok first that wasn’t really posed as an option now was it ?, also enough with belief that its your divine right to just be appointed as headmaster! What makes you think that if you somehow are the headmaster I will just bend at your will? Pathetic!” She scoffed into her drink. Draco began to stifle a laugh “ Ah you do amuse me y/n”, look I'm willing to let you have some creative control … only if you prove to me how badly you so desire it”. His suggestive smile sent shivers up y/n. “Fuck you Malfoy” she hissed and jolted from her seat, once she reached the door she rattled the doorknob but to no avail the door wouldn’t budge. “Open it now” she demanded . Draco slowly sauntered towards her and leant across the door “hmm I thought you liked a challenge .. guess I was wrong this will be no fun after all ” Draco was indeed correct Y/n did enjoy a challenge and he’d be gravely mistaken if he thought she would let him get away without putting up a fight”.

Something switched in Y/n she turned to face Draco who was only inches away. He towered over her with his svelte frame encased in an all black suit. ‘Is this what you want Draco hmm” she said in a sultry tone whilst hooking her finger into his belt loop pulling him closer. You want me to beg ..or would you rather me on my knees .. better yet I could be a good girl and just bend over that desk right now and let you have your way if thats what you want” . Draco's breathing was now laboured within seconds he had pulled y/n in by the waist flipped her round having her pressed against the door, his body weight up against her and his hand holding her arms in place on the door. Y/n could feel the stiffness of his impressive length against her derrière. With a shallow gasp he breathed dangerously close to her ear “ be careful what you wish for ms Y/L/N , I don’t take too kindly to false promises as I always get what I want” . With that he tossed her around to face him .Y/n was now panting her body was burning in desire she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees there and then. No wonder Astoria was attached to his hip.. if this was anything to go off.

Y/n bit her lip she felt dizzy with emotions . Draco stood before her with a devious smile , his hands soon intertwining at her waist and face buried in her décolleté littering it with kisses making his way down to her ample bosom. Y/n couldn’t help but throw her head back in delight eliciting a small moan. That only became fuel for Draco as he hoisted her leg from the floor and wrapped it around him. It was then Y/n felt a vibration from the opposite side of the door., as if someone had knocked from the outside . It was then followed by a mousy ‘ Dray , are you in there’. Draco paused for a moment grip still tight on y/n. “What is it I'm having a business meeting , i'll be out shortly don’t hover ”. It was clear who it was… the pair unraveled themselves from one another quickly smoothing out clothing and rejigging themselves. ‘Ok let us” let me stop you Draco, Y/n interrupted pressing her finger against his lips to audibly shush him. “ As if you think id let this happen you think you get to fuck me then you do as you please and I a dutiful little lap dog . Pfffft what a joke like it or not I'm going to be your boss so the only way I'm fucking you is in the more figurative sense , now you better hurry up don’t want to keep your fiancé waiting or Is it wife hmmm”. With a quick flick from her wand she sent the door swinging open and promptly stormed out.

The day had finally arrived the great hall of Hogwarts was alive with the buzz of chatter. The sizeable table at the forefront of the hall hosted all the teachers and most importantly both Draco and y/n. Dumbledore made his way to the podium, he produced his wand and placed it at the base of his neck it acted as a megaphone propelling his voice across the hall. “Everybody if I may have your attention please.” The chatter soon died down and everyone eagerly cast their eyes on him. “ Right, I shan’t keep you in suspense anymore , it is time to announce your new headmaster & deputy ’. Both Draco and y/n fidgeted in their seats after all these months of rivalry it had boiled down to this. “ Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Ms y/n y/l/n your new headmaster !” Boomed Dumbledore. .Y/N shrieked she was giddy with excitement she couldn’t believe she had actually done it. Everyone around her broke out into wild applause there were whistles and jeers laughter overall excitement. She was being ushered by the surrounding teachers to get up to the podium to make a speech. As she was making her way she cast eyes on Draco, there he stood paler than usual and unresponsive he was there physically but not mentally his carcass stood stationary unable to ingest the news he had just been fed.

The days rolled into weeks weeks rolled into months and y/n had almost completed a whole term at Hogwarts. All was going swimmingly and albeit begrudgingly Draco was in-fact a great support on her journey. It was the last night of term and y/n sat a her desk pondering over a mountain of papers. Y/n sighed and cradled her head in her hands , she was exhausted she spent all her time dedicated to the role that she forgot to take time out for herself. There was a knock at the door “Come in” she yelled out. Draco's head emerged around the door. ‘

Oh hey you , come in come in” ushering him to the desk. ‘Oh dear , sucks to be you , regretting the position of power now?” Draco chuckled menacingly. “Ha ha very funny” she uttered dryly. “Anyway , some of the other teachers are going out for drinks but I can see you are busy” said Draco eyeballing the mountains of paper. “Yeah.. I afraid I am , but you enjoy yourself Draco have a drink for me and i'll see you next term” she smiled warmly at him. Draco locked eyes on her , hands stuffed in his pocket he began to fidget. “In all honesty I'm not the fondest of all the people going .. also Id much rather not be at home ..before you laugh or probe why just don’t because I won’t go into it but I can’t bare to spend another moment longer with …her .. so umm yeah , I can help you out here then say you make it up to me buying me a drink later?”

Y/n smirked “You’re quite then enigma aren’t you Draco ..? He raised his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement. “Fine , id appreciate that very much but I am rather tired so if it's not beneath you I can offer you a drink at mine ..”. His eyes flickered up to meet hers , stifling a smile . “Id like that ..”he said softly , ‘well then , let's get to work” y/n smiled. Draco and y/n worked through the night it was filled with chatter and laughter they felt at ease with one another. Once they finished up the momentum continued on at y/ns house. Copious amounts of fire whiskey later they found themselves delving into deeper topics having more in-depth conversations and discovering more about one another. Draco's whole demeanour was very relaxed and this was foreign to y/n. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie loosened. ‘You know .. you're an alright person not that much of a pain in my arse surprisingly” Draco chuckled swigging another mouthful of whiskey. “Well thats rich” laughed y/n.

“Right well I've really enjoyed this but its getting late , I can barley keep my eyes open … earlier you mentioned you didn't want to go back so .. you're more than welcome to stay …. Only if you want”. Rattled by the kind gesture he smiled affectionately. Stumbling over his words “umm yeah , thank you y/n you’ve exceeded your generosity let me at least grab us coffee for the morning then. “Sounds like a plan , hopefully you won’t find me a pain in the arse again come morning ”. With a cackle Y/n got up from the couch and showed Draco to the spare room. Once at the door she began to wish him a goodnight. As he went to hug y/n his lips grazed her cheek. Y/n suddenly recoiled , a silence loomed over them as they gazed at one another the emotions of that night in Draco's office flooding back. Y/n could feel the heat surging in her cheeks so she hastily wished him a good night and scurried to her room. Once in the shelter of her room she let out a sigh of relief. She knew it was the right thing to do but my how she craved him.

Draco burst through the door making a beeline for Y/N. He took her into his arms and kissed her with an insatiable hunger. Backing her into the wall he began to rid her of her clothing . Y/n hands clambered at his chest to do same however he abruptly stopped her “ Oh no you don’t , you think I forgot about that little stint in my office huh ? Well I didn't and I've been awaiting the day I get to fuck you senseless Ms y/n … you control me all day and now its y turn to control you .. you will do everything I say do you understand” . Enthralled by his dominance Y/n nodded enthusiastically. “Sorry I didn't hear you “ roared Draco grabbing her face towards his. “Yes who”. “Yes Draco” she moaned . “You can do better than that dear yes who, i'll only ask you one more time or i'll have bent over my knee.. so what will it be?” . “Yes … daddy “ she muttered bashfully. “Thats my girl” he bellowed. He grabbed her and thrust her onto the bed , he unfastened his tie and instructed her to lift her hands above her head. Y/n did as commanded. He bound her wrists up and hooped them over the bed post. “Now, I'm going to have my way with you and you don’t get to touch me understood!” ‘Yes daddy y/n whimpered” “ahh what a good girl you are, ugh the things I'm going to do to you”. Y/ns eyes winded in desire, Draco shimmied y/ns shirt up and instructed her to bite down using it as a makeshift gag. He suddenly began to kiss her lower abdomen slowly sliding off her trousers.

Y/n titled her hips aiding him in taking them off. Draco's eyes lit up upon the discovery of her not wearing any undergarments “oh so you were anticipating me you filthy slut” Draco chuckled darkly’. He teased and taunted kissing her inner thighs only grazing her sex, this drove y/n crazy her body craved him inside her. Draco finally delicately licked a strip against her folds causing her body to crumble at the slightest of his touch. His warm moist tongue began frantically massaging her causing her to rive in ecstasy . His tongue began to vibrate excitedly against her clitoris sending shock waves through her entire body , she bucked her hips in excitement unable to keep her composure as Draco's tongue fixated on lapping up the one spot that drove her insane. Y/n was close he was relentless with his tongue against her swollen bud , just as she was about to finish Draco withdrew. Y/ns face fell in disgust just as she was about complain he plunged his fingers deep inside her ..pumping rhythmically y/ns juices coated his fingers . His other hand sloped around her neck , eventually this caused her to release all over his hand. Draco's pupils now engulfed his eyes …he was enthralled in pleasure watching her crumble for him . “ Aren’t you a good girl , snarled Draco “squirting for daddy , whilst I love it I don’t recall giving you permission to” .y/n squirmed overcome with pleasure unable to respond.

He unhooked her and brought her to her knees. He ripped her shirt from her mouth and produced his veiny throbbing cock dripping with pre cum. Y/n gasped in astonishment and eagerly attempted to take him all in her mouth bobbing her head enthusiastically until her jaw ached and eyes began to stream. He hurled his head back in pleasure as her tongue gently caressed his pulsating tip. “Ugh yeah just like that baby “ he muttered .

Without warning y/n sucked on the tip with vigour. Draco let out a ferocious moan whilst grabbing y/ns hair fashioning it into a ponytail attempting to make her glide her tongue down the rest of his shaft. He couldn’t have her do that for too long as he surely would finish in her mouth. “You filthy filthy girl “ he beamed as he pulled her off his cock . Rocking her head back spiting in her mouth. He brought yn to her feet and began kissing her deeply interlocking his tongue with hers , she yearned so badly to touch him to feel her skin against his. “ Get over here , I want you leant over this bed frame whilst I fuck you .. I'm going to cum on that pretty pussy then I'm going to put it back in understand!” Firmly instructed Draco . “Yes daddy” that’s my girl he cooed. Draco teasingly stroked his member against her entrance this sent shock waves through y/n causing her to gyrate in hopes he would slip in. Draco caught onto this and his hand came down harshly on her derrière .y/n let out a gasp. “Don’t be greedy now” he laughed tightening his makeshift restraints on her wrists. Relentless with his teasing it was a shock to y/n when Draco abruptly pushed into her. Y/n was in euphoria as was Draco as the warmth of her walls swaddled his manhood.

Draco slammed into y/n her body rattling with pleasure, just then Draco felt himself out to release .. so true to his word he instructed y/n to lay on her back so he could empty his contents onto her. He threw his head back in jubilation upon release. As he went to enter her again this time her was slower much more gentle taking y/n into his arms. “How do you want me to finish you off baby?,like this or I could use my fingers?” Y/n shuddered remembering the bliss she was in from his lengthy fingers so it would be a no brainer to opt for them “Fingers please daddy” she uttered softly.

He untangled himself from her stood up and offered his hand . Taking her across the room he sat down in-front of the floor length mirror instructing y/n to sit in between his legs. “If its fingers you was then its fingers you’ll get but your gonna have to watch me”. His large hand sloped up her neck tenderly chocking her whilst his other massaged at her slit . Y/n was still dripping from earlier so it was light work for him to imbed his fingers into her. Y/n couldn’t take it the combination of Draco's fierce unwavering gaze in the mirror and the sheer bliss she felt with her legs quaking she soon released decorating the mirror in-front her. “Ugh your amazing baby” he beamed kissing her forehead gracefully. “Here let's get you cleaned up and we can cuddle in bed”. “Oh my … I didn't peg you as a cuddling type Draco” y/n laughed gingerly attempting to get up her legs still trembling beneath her. “Shut up you” he scolded “when will you learn there’s a lot you still don’t know about me y/n”.

[yehet-me-up]

Reboot

Pairing: Jongdae/Chen x reader (female)

Word Count: 26,971 😬 read it in a mobile web browser if it crashes! 

Rating: (PG13) for swearing + sexy vibes (nothing more explicit than a kiss on the page though)

Summary: Chen’s Electronics is a mystery, both how the store came to be and the man running it. When you start working as a receptionist for the enigma that is Kim Jongdae, you’re determined to be the one who unravels the mystery. You’re prepared for anything, except for falling in love with Jongdae himself. 

Part eight of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

A/N: I’m SO delighted that Jongdae is getting his IRL happily ever after and I’m so excited to wrap up his fictional counterpart’s story today, so he can have his ending as well 💕

March 15th, 1997

Capitol Hill is in full swing, the promise of spring drawing the sleeping city from its winter hibernation. The silver dress you wear is far shorter than you're used to, but the denim jacket is big enough to properly cover your ass, which is something at least. In your platform boots, borrowed from your roommate Liz, you're almost tall enough to see over the busy street to Cal Anderson Park up ahead.

'Come on,' Liz says with an excited glint in her eye. 'The club's just on the far side of Boylston.'

You nod distantly, eyes wide as you try to take in all the people around you. After spending the last two years buried in a book in the UW library or at internships or in class it feels startling to realize how much youthful, passionate energy beats at the heart of the city so close to where you've been existing. Not that you never go out, but now that you’re approaching the end of your master’s degree you feel like a diver finally reaching the surface to draw breath. You’re ready to celebrate.

A door opens to your right and music surrounds you. An impassioned man sings about an even flow, accompanied by an aggressive drummer and what you can tell is skilled guitar playing. The people on the sidewalk beside you press in, screaming and cheering and trying to shove their way into a club. A faded sign above announces it as Moe's Bar.

Your roommate's hand finds yours and she pulls you out through an opening in the crowd.

Once you’re free again you laugh and brush your hair behind your ears. Dozens of other clubs and bars and late-night restaurants you pass are the same. Men with mohawks in every color of the rainbow. Women in combat boots with plaid jackets tied at their waists. A group of teenagers skateboard down Broadway, hollering into the night as they fly by, the clack of their wheels muffled by the lingering rain dampening the streets.

Everyone seems taken by the revelry. It would be so easy - to disappear into the thriving mass of people celebrating music and community and being alive. Now, with graduation so close you can finally taste it, you surrender to the sensation. Tilting your head back you look at the round full moon above, peeking out through the clouds, and give a joyful, if tentative, howl.

This makes your roommate turn and squeeze your hand. Liz smiles with pride. 'Now that's the spirit!' she says with a fist pump and howl of her own.

The nightclub is unassuming, especially amongst the neon and metal venues you passed to get here. Two simple brass lamps spotlight the enormous carved wooden doors. Bass thumps from within, the slight rattling of the doors is the only indication that life exists within. Shari’s reads the hanging sign.

Liz practically glows under the lights, a North star leading you into a whole new world.

After so many years of keeping your nose to the grindstone - success gained through effort rather than extraordinary intelligence; advanced classes, extra college courses during the summer, every extracurricular you could pack in before you cracked, a high school diploma by sixteen, bachelors by twenty and MBA by twenty two - you would follow her anywhere as long as it didn't involve studying or a business suit.

She guides you through the heavy wood door into a small entry room. A large man with so many piercings he'd have a terrible time at the security scanners at the airport checks your IDs. It's stayed in your wallet, practically untouched, since the official one came last year on your twenty-first birthday.

Finally inside the club you bite your lip to hide a wide, giddy smile of excitement. Bodies fill the dance floor, joyously swaying to the beat. A DJ booth rises from a far corner like Sauron’s tower in the Lord of the Rings. A man with dark hair that falls in his intense eyes runs the booth; a king commanding his loyal subjects.

Liz finds her group of friends from the mall she works at spread over two successive tables with circular cushioned benches behind them. Their names and faces blur together in the low lighting, but everyone is welcoming, offering you a smile or a shake of a hand. A cheerful blonde-haired man, who you swear says his name is Bacon, takes you and Liz’s coats and purses and adds them to an overflowing pile beside him.

Before you can even think of sitting down Liz guides you onto the dance floor. Normally you’re the one in control. The one with the plan. The group leader or the one who organized the debate team fundraiser/supply closet at work/networking mixer. But it’s… nice, not having to be the center of everything, keeping it together with your effort alone. 

She gives you a teasing smile as if she can read your thoughts and you roll your eyes with a laugh. ‘No overthinking this!’ she commands with a raised brow as you find a good spot.

As if I have any other way of thinking. ‘I promise nothing!’ you shrug and smile at her.

Your movements are slow at first, awkward, and you laugh to yourself with amusement. Self-deprecation has never been your poison. Along with an unshakeable drive to make something of yourself you've always had a healthy sense of self-esteem. Who cares if you aren't the best dancer?

You get into the swing after the second song and shake your ass with delight at the energy in the room and the incredible job the DJ is doing loosening you up. He’s remixing “Semi-Charmed Life” with an older techno hit you don’t recognize.

Before long Jongin, Liz’s crush and co-worker from the KOKO exercise studio, captures her attention and you end up dancing with Baekhyun (tragically not actually named Bacon) and a girl who calls herself Hitchcock. You recognize each other from a seminar last school year at UW and take a long break to catch each other up on your lives over shots at the table. 

She tells you about her dual jobs at Microsoft and the movie theater at the Exodus Mall. You fill her in on your thesis project and she offers to look over your resume as you plan to apply to a similar track at the tech giant after you graduate.

When Liz said she was forcing you from your obsessive, ahem dedicated, studying for your research paper you didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t all of this. Reconnecting with a friend. A potential foot in the door at your dream job. Dancing so much that your back gets slick with sweat. Laughing with Liz so hard your stomach aches as Baekhyun attempts to breakdance, nearly falling backwards into no less than four people.

As if the night couldn’t get any better, something else catches your eye. Someone else - the DJ steps down from the booth on a break.

His black pants, white shirt, and tie would be overly formal and out of place in the nightclub, but his pushed-up sleeves reveal muscled forearms. The neon yellow sunglasses and loose piano pattern of the tie he wears make him look sexy, in an off-duty retro businessman kind of way. His face reveals none of his emotions as he slips off his shades, tucking them in his jacket pocket. But the corners of his lips tilt up with amusement as he scans the room.

Clearly he’s impressed with the atmosphere he’s created here tonight. As he should be, you think. You imagine for a moment what it would be like if he noticed you. If this was a meet-cute or the start of something. But his focus is on the bar now, not lingering on you or anyone else in the club. Dating for you was a rocky road and absolutely nothing like the way it looked in the John Hughes movies that were your guilty pleasure growing up.

Between your parents' support and your own innate thirst for success, you always felt like an outsider in terms of relationships. Extroverted and empathetic enough to make and maintain friendships, but boys were tougher. You could never figure out dating to your satisfaction in high school and you left when most of your peers were just finishing up Sophomore year.

In college there was hope. Studious and hardworking men with glasses and a love of Emily Dickinson and black coffee. Law school-bound guys who rowed crew and whose confidence was just on the right side of attractive instead of insufferable. John Cusack types with easy smiles and crates of vinyl they carefully collected, who performed at the Comedy Underground in hopes of ‘being discovered.’

It was both thrilling and irritating. You went after dating with almost as much determination as you did your school and career, set on experiencing everything possible.

But the English major wanted someone in a pastel dress and tights, who volunteered at an animal shelter and didn’t eviscerate him at Scrabble. The future lawyer was looking for his future trophy wife, to stand beside him at fancy dinners and fraternity mixers. And the Lloyd Dobler wannabe needed a muse, a beautiful and ethereal woman to be his object of longing, to laugh at his jokes and pass through life without worry about the future.

Not that you were jealous, or even bitter. Just because you weren’t what they were looking for wasn’t anything personal and you never took it like it was. The women they wanted existed and were wonderful in all their own ways. But it grated at you, how you always felt like a square peg in a round hole. Never being the right fit.

All your life you’d gotten used to knowing, and getting, what you wanted. It was insanely frustrating to not have found anything that stuck. Failure in any form made you frown, but thankfully romantic mishaps always took a backseat to school, friends, and your future, so it was easy to ignore. Until now.

The DJ passes close enough to you and Liz that you can see the echoes of dark circles under his eyes and the rich brown of his hair in the passing neon lights. For some reason that same intuition, that same hunger and drive that had propelled you to awards and scholarships and countless other successes, tells you to follow him. Whatever it is about him, your body and your desire react before your mind and conscious rational thought.

'I'll be back,' you yell to your roommate over the music. She nods and gives you a thumbs up as she's drawn into Jongin’s embrace once more.

Like a missile you weave through the crowd, target in sight. You watch as the DJ leans against the end of the bar, carefully positioning himself so he's at the end with no one behind him. You wonder if it's out of a dislike of people sneaking up on him or if he's a predator, sizing up the crowd.

With a casual hand he orders a drink from the bartender and surveys the crowd coolly. Too high on life to care too much, you take the seat two over from him, carefully avoiding eye contact, feigning nonchalance. ‘Self-possessed,’ that’s how your fifth grade teacher described you. Independent and old beyond your years. It always thrilled you, the praise and respect of adults. You wanted to earn more of it, to be seen as capable and mature.

But something about the man beside you makes you feel younger. Raw and playful in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever been before.

Admiring the cut of his jaw, you imagine kissing it. His hands on the bar are graceful, strong, befitting his profession. You want him and you want him to want you. The thought makes you inhale a deep breath, not even sure what that would mean. Adrenaline and delight fill your mind and you briefly fantasize about him holding you close on the dance floor like Jongin does to Liz. His hands on your hips and his mouth teasing your neck.

The bartender reappears on your side of the bar, his bald head gleaming in the lights of the club, and you snap back into reality. The flames tattooed across his knuckles shine as he slides a drink down the length of the bar, towards the DJ. An impulsive, reckless daring you've only ever felt before at debate tournaments makes you reach out and catch the glass of dark liquid before it can reach its desired recipient.

In one smooth motion you lift it to your lips and turn to meet the DJ's deep brown eyes. With a smirk you raise the glass. In two gulps you down the drink, the bourbon burning its way down your throat, reminding you how good it feels to be free, to be alive. 

To challenge someone who feels like a decent opponent.

He watches you, his eyes flaring with surprise before fading back to indifference. He looks like a tiger in a cage at the zoo, pacing in front of a glass divider. His fingers tap impatiently on the lacquered bartop and he tilts his head, watching as you lick the moisture from your lip, savoring the taste. You wonder if he'd be just as heady and strong on your tongue.

You have the feeling that with the slightest pressure in the right place and the glass would shatter, unleashing the beast within. The thought makes you clench your thighs together, a heat filling you that has nothing to do with the people pressing in on you trying to get the attention of the bartender.

The DJ seems just as self-contained as you are. A voice inside you whispers of unstoppable forces meeting immovable objects and you wonder which of you would cave first.

Before you can say anything, before you can even wipe the satisfied smile off your lips or ask his name or offer to pay for the drink, he drops a bill to the counter and slides off the stool. He pushes into the crowd, disappearing as if he'd never been there. As if he hardly noticed you.

But you didn't miss the interest, the arousal, the animal within him rising to your challenge. He slinks back up to the DJ booth and resumes his position of power, thirst unquenched.

You don't know his name, or anything about him. Aside from the fact that the way he looks at you feels so wrong it's right, and that his hands are the first ones you've ever wanted wrapped around your waist so badly you can feel it beating in your palms.

But you know one thing, as you rejoin your roommate on the dance floor, whatever has started between you and the enigmatic DJ isn't finished.

May 21st, 1997

You straighten your blazer, looking in the mirror to make sure your outfit is perfect. It’s not your first interview this week and it certainly won’t be the last, but it is the one you’re the most curious about.

The position as a receptionist and accountant for an electronics repair store isn’t exactly how you pictured your first job after getting your MBA, but the pay and the opportunity to work alongside the enigmatic tech genius Kim Jongdae is a chance you can’t pass up.

All that’s left is the graduation ceremony in June and then you’re free. Your final exams are done, your thesis is defended, and you’ve completed a thorough and perhaps slightly obsessive spreadsheet documenting all your connections who might have an in at your most desired companies. Now knee-deep in the process of interviewing for jobs it strikes you all of a sudden that this is what you’ve been working for… almost all your life.

The lighting in the bathroom of the mall is stark and a moment of uncertainty makes your knees weak.

Since your test results in elementary school came back top of the class it’s been the same refrain. Get good grades. Impress your teachers. Study and diversify your interests and push harder every year and eventually it will all pay off, right? You’re damn proud of what you’ve done, but now, here in the after, all you can think as you watch your own reflection is - now what?

Frowning, you wonder how many other applicants there are for this job. Anyone in the tech circle in Seattle knows about Jongdae. Rumors abound that he was set to be the next Bill Gates when an investment deal went south. Or that he was kicked out of Harvard for embarrassing his professors with his superior smarts. Someone in your Econ seminar once told you she’d heard that he was contracted by the NSA to spy on foreign hackers.

Whatever his history, he currently runs a computer and electronics repair store in a very unassuming mall in Capitol Hill. You want to stand out, and what better way to do so than the track down the mystery of Kim Jongdae, the prodigy turned hermit. You infuse your veins with confidence, knowing you can handle anything thrown at you. Or so you think.

The mall is quiet and peaceful in the mid-morning on a Wednesday. A couple of tables in the food court are filled with older men and women playing cards and board games. A group of moms walks past you talking about a storytime at the bookstore in the mall.

The slow and steady hum of activity in here is a far cry from where you thought you’d be working. Professors encouraged you to head to IBM or Oracle. With your skills, business sense, and intuitive ability to pick up each new trend in technology they told you that you would have your choice of opportunities.

But while you’re no stranger to hard work and a competitive work environment, the idea of clawing your way to the top of yet another group of high achievers just sounds… awful.

You long to travel, to finally see some of the exotic and culturally rich places you’ve stuck photos of to your fridge. You want to be able to actually go out on the weekends and see your friends. Whatever your future holds you want to finally enjoy your life outside of school and work, even if it’s only for a year.

You could always recognize the friends who were interning at Amazon because they looked like they’d come off a week of no sleep. Many of your fellow MBA graduates were flocking there, as the company finally went public earlier this month. But something just felt - off to you. Like a canary in a coal mine.

Purpose, fulfillment, financial security, and a challenging work environment? Yes.

Burnout, no free time, and living and breathing for ‘the company’? No, thank you.

At the salary Jongdae had advertised you could easily continue to afford the apartment you shared with your two roommates and work on paying off the remaining student loans your scholarships hadn’t covered. And you could hide away a small amount of your check every month for the trip to Amsterdam you’ve been planning for years.

The gentle music in the wide, bright lobby of the mall makes you sigh in relief. This job is a win-win and you’re more determined than ever to get it.

You finally see the shop. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it between the black and neon purple exterior of KMS Music and the narrow security office tucked behind the lively pizza restaurant. There’s a line winding its way in front of the music store and you assume it’s for an album release. Until you realize that the line is leading straight where you’re going and stop in your tracks.

Chen's Electronics. The mall is full of colors and bright shop fronts. But this is almost bleak in comparison, as though it's resisted the outright displays of joy and liveliness that seem to be at the heart of the mall. The sign is red neon against a black and steel facade. A simple poster hangs in one of the two wide windows that frame the door.

We do: - Hard Drive Repair - Internet Connectivity Issues - Computer virus protection - Turntables, record players, and other portable home audio systems - Radios - POS/credit card system repair (For stores in the Exodus Mall only)

We do not: - Sell computers or computer parts. Don't ask.

You raise a brow at the last note. The harsh exterior of the store and the brusque tone definitely match with what you've heard of Chen's Electronics - that the man who runs it is a computer genius, but that his bedside manner leaves much to be desired. Perhaps that's why the job posting emphasized 'superior customer service skills.'

The line you join grows, others coming in behind you, and you wonder if Jongdae told everyone the same 10am time frame or if he staggered interviews throughout the day. As you wait the line slowly dwindles. A woman leaves crying a few minutes later, and you watch her go with surprise and attempt to peek into the store. You’re still too far back to see in, so you’re left to wait and wonder.

Finally you’re next, waiting just outside the store. A printed piece of paper is taped to the door. CLOSED FOR INTERVIEWS it says in big, bolded letters.

The tall man who was ahead of you in line isn’t visible at either of the two work stations set up inside the shop. There must be a back room of some kind. You take the moment to check out the space. The store is organized chaos. Rows of shelves line each of the two walls, full of equipment - computers in various states of disassembly, old transistor radios, a VHS player, a few turntables, and endless coiled stacks of cords interspersed.

The walls above them and the two walls behind the work stations, on either side of the hallway leading to the back, are blank. No advertisements or personalized touches to make the business seem welcoming. Just bland, empty beige walls. One desk has only a computer, keyboard, and mouse. The other is full of parts and tools that extend over the desk to not one, but two shelving units behind it. Like Jongdae was in the middle of a project and the interviews are a rude interruption.

A muffled angry shout comes from the back, behind the gray curtain hung up over the entrance to the rear of the store. The tall man moves it aside with a sneer as he charges across the floor. With a voice practically a growl he shoves open the door and you jolt back to avoid being hit.

He looks you up and down and shakes his head. ‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’

After a last straightening of your jacket you swallow and push through the door. It's quiet inside, almost reverent, as the door closes behind you. The fluorescent lighting overhead isn't the most welcoming and the tan carpet is terribly dated. No one comes to meet you. The man on the other side must be waiting, like a dragon in his lair.

Your hand closes over the strap of your purse and you hesitate at the curtain, not wanting to move forward without being invited. 'Hello?'

Footsteps come down the short hallway and a hand appears, moving the curtain out of the way to reveal a man. Your jaw almost drops. Oh, shit. It's not at all who you were expecting the famed Jongdae to be - a studious man with glasses and a bad tie.

No, this man is handsome in an aggressive way. His black hair is styled back in a neat wave. His high cheekbones and strong brows hold no humor or friendliness. Only the catlike upturn of his lips stands in rebellious contrast to his unwelcoming face.

This isn't the first time you've seen this face either, you realize, and it's like being run over by a train. He seems to connect the dots at the same moment and his eyes widen, eyebrows raising. It’s the DJ from the bar. The drink. The - oh, god.

He presses his mouth together, smothering his surprise and sitting down harshly in the chair at the crowded desk in the main room. 'What are you doing here?' He keeps his voice tightly contained, not minding in the least that the other potential job candidates are surely watching you both right now.

You give yourself a small shake and remember you're not here to hit on him. You're here for a job. 'I have an interview.'

Best case is ignoring the whole thing. It didn’t happen. Not here in the light of day. His poker face might be good, but yours is better. You keep your breathing even and hope that the racing of your heart isn’t making your cheeks red.

He tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips together in amusement. ‘Alright then.’ Turning to the side he stands and holds the curtain open, allowing you to pass by him into the small office behind.

Holding his focus, you pull out the chair in front of the desk and sit down. You place the resume and references on the table between you and fold your hands on your lap, waiting.

Jongdae takes his place opposite you as he slides the papers across the desk. His eyes dart faster than you can imagine anyone reading. He doesn’t seem flustered, but the tips of his ears are just slightly pink, his nose flaring a bit too much, and you realize he’s just as caught off guard as you are.

Finally, he finishes. 'I… don't think this is going to work.' He looks up, his hand resting on your paperwork on the desk. His face gives away nothing, but his eyes are wild and full of emotion you can’t decipher.

'Why is that?' You keep your voice steady, determined. He’s not going to dismiss you so quickly. Realizing the DJ and the tech wunderkind are one in the same has only heightened your desire to show him you’re the best person for the job.

Jongdae stares at you. This time, there's heat in his expression. You feel his eyes move over you, not taking in the professional attire, but clearly remembering the dress you wore from the club instead. 'I think you know why,' he says under his breath.

Clearing your throat you lean forward, drawn to him by some force you can't define. Like something is shoving you towards this job. 'I don't know what you mean. The posting was for an office manager and bookkeeper. I'm qualified in both and I have plenty of experience. Are you really going to decide I’m not a good fit without even asking me a single question?'

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, his composure faltering for an instant. 'Why do you want this position? You know nothing about me.'

He states it like a fact, not an opening for discussion, but you jump on it anyway. 'I know plenty.'

Satisfaction blooms in your chest when he narrows his eyes, raising a brow. 'I do my research, Mr. Kim. I’m top of my class at UW and I didn’t get there by accident. With such a small team I could get a far broader experience than I could being just another cog in the machine at Microsoft. I might not know you personally, but your reputation precedes you. I plan to excel in the tech industry. And to do that, I need to work with the best. Simple as that.'

'And I'm the best?' He leans back in his chair. Resting his elbow on the armrest, he drags a finger across his lips in appraisal.

His quick responses remind you of the competitive tennis you played growing up. The way it felt to thrive when paired with an equal opponent, someone who could match your speed and precision. Someone who gave as good as they got. How it made you better, sharpened your skills and reflexes up against someone who you couldn’t easily defeat.

'Are you trying to tell me you're not?' You cross your arms and look around, feigning surprise and curiosity. 'If you tell me who is, I'll happily go apply to be their office manager.'

He almost laughs in amusement. You can feel it. But he covers it as a cough instead and tilts his head to the side, sizing you up. 'And you know what this job entails?'

You repeat it easily from memory. 'Being the face of the business. Greeting walk-in customers. Helping them figure out if what they need is something we do. Conferring with you about pricing. Scheduling service appointments over the phone. Processing payments. Ordering supplies. Occasional advertising assistance. Other assorted duties as needed.'

'That about sums it up.'

In the charged silence you hear the muffled noises of the mall - children squealing with delight, orders being called out at the pizza restaurant next door, people talking - but it's all separated. You wonder if the distance is intentional. Many stores have roll up gates or at least have their doors propped open to draw in customers. But not Jongdae. It’s almost as though he’s actively trying to keep visitors out.

You favor boldness and decide to push him, what have you got to lose? 'So, when do I start?' Leaning forward, you give him a relaxed smile. ‘Unless you’d like to terrorize a few more applicants before you choose me? I’m happy to wait, Mr. Kim. But you can’t scare me away. And you don’t intimidate me.’

With equal decisiveness he cracks a lopsided grin and shakes his head, with both amusement and resignation. 'How's now for you?'

You give a passing thought to the other jobs, the ones you’d already interviewed for and the ones on your schedule over the coming days. They all go up in a whiff of smoke as you extend your hand across the table to shake Jongdae’s hand.

‘Now is perfect.’ His palm is warm against yours and you do your best not to react to the contact, but you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you.

Jongdae withdraws his hand quickly, and you note with pleasure that he seems a bit shaken as he stands. ‘I’ll be right back. You can leave your things here.’ He motions to the coat hooks on the wall by the door and the tall, thin bookshelf with a few cubby slots.

Aside from a black scarf and a few extra office supplies on two of the shelves the rest of the space is empty. You wonder what he isn't saying. 'What made you want help, all of a sudden?’ He pauses and turns back to you. ‘From what I can tell you've been in business for a few years. Why now?'

He sighs. 'I'm too busy to keep doing this by myself.'

'Ah. And you hate that, don't you?'

The ghost of a smile graces his lips. 'Yes.'

Jongdae disappears through the curtain. You follow him after putting your coat on a hook and your purse in one of the spotless cubbies. The rest of the space contains a few filing cabinets, stacks of boxes, and a small safe resting on a narrow table.

When you appear back into the hallway you see a door to the left that must lead out the back. And on the opposite side is an archway with a kitchen sink, a microwave, a small fridge, and a few cupboards inside, along with a small circular table. The table has only one chair. You smile to yourself. Clearly he's accustomed to doing everything by himself.

When you emerge the other applicants are dispersing as he peels the taped sign off the door, balling it up in his hands.

Jongdae gets you set up on the computer at the other desk. It’s a relatively simple customer management software and payment system, both of which you pick up in no time. He runs you through the pricing list, pulling a laminated form from the top drawer. His filing system for customer accounts is simple and alphabetized.

Neither of you speak about that night again, but oh, do you feel it - the electricity between you when he stands too close or you meet his eyes.

Until lunch he alternates between training you and assisting customers who come in every so often. It's all straightforward, nothing you haven't managed before, and by the afternoon you're already scheduling appointments in the large old-school appointment book he keeps open to the current week.

Despite the passion and intensity in the music he plays, he keeps an even keel throughout his day job. It's almost as if you went to sleep last night and somehow woke up as someone who's worked here for years. Before closing at 5:30 he remembers other things and hands you a packet on the way out. Tax forms, an employment agreement listing the salary and benefits, and a non-disclosure form. Most of it is standard, but you wonder what kind of secrets he needs to protect at an electronics store.

You gather your things and wait outside while he closes down the shop, turning off the lights as he goes. It’s still quite sunny outside and with a shock you realize that there’s nothing waiting for you, now that the work day is done. No papers to write or projects to finish or internship to head to. The idea makes you feel unexpectedly buoyant, and when Jongdae steps out to lock the doors you give him an easy smile.

He returns it, giving you a small one of his own in response. ‘So, I normally take Tuesdays off and keep the shop closed. Wednesdays are normally pretty slow. How does Thursday through Monday sound to you? I know today is Wednesday, so if you wanted to take tomorrow off instead that’s fine with me.’

‘I’m happy to come in tomorrow.’ You want to wince at the eagerness in your voice, but instead you stand firm, holding your purse in front of you with both hands.

Jongdae slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nods, looking at you for a long moment before speaking. ‘Sounds great, I’ll see you then.’

You nod at him too, turning back towards the department store to head out to your car. After a beat you look behind you and see he’s still watching. His gaze is unfocused on the floor before he shakes his head, seeming to come back to himself. He heads the opposite direction, towards the movie theater. In a few seconds he’s disappeared behind the pizza place, out of sight.

Jongdae takes the longer route home today. His apartment overlooking Lake Union is the one he grew up in, his grandfather’s place. When he passed away a year ago he left it to Jongdae and it never occurred to him to move. He walks along the water, breathing in the early summer air, wanting to laugh at himself. How long has it been since he let himself be impulsive? To act on instinct. To want something.

He’d settled into a routine these past few years, since everything changed after graduation. Working at the store. Reading. Playing Go and chess with his grandfather and the other older men that lived in the building. They’d go fishing out on the peninsula or to the local symphonies that his grandfather loved. Routine had saved him when his world fell apart once, but now, with his grandfather’s absence, he’s not sure how to pick up the pieces anymore.

The seagulls on the pier are loud today, hungrily gobbling up the bread and Ivar’s french fries tossed to them by the kids gathered around. They giggle and laugh, running to their parents for more offerings. Jongdae frowns for a moment, the sadness that he doesn’t often acknowledge creeping into his heart.

His parents were gone before he really even had a chance to know them. His father to lung cancer, from the awful smoking habit he picked up in the Navy. His mother moved back to Korea to be with her family, unable to cope being in the city without her husband. Jongdae didn’t blame her, but the distance grew and they drifted apart as he became an adult himself.

Jongdae’s father’s father settled here after World War Two, along with a few of his friends. From what he remembers there wasn’t a discussion about it after the funeral - if he’d stay or go back to Korea with his mother. One day when he was young he knew his father had passed. His mother left. And with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders and little Jongdae in his arms his grandfather had moved him into the apartment with the pretty view of the water. 

And that’s the way it was, ever since.

In school his friends might have joked that Jongdae was an old man himself. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle on Sundays, getting his hair cut at the same hole-in-the-wall barber shop in Chinatown as his grandfather, and hanging out with more octogenarians than people his own age. But he loved his grandfather and the two of them were so close that he never stopped to question whether he should change to fit in with the rest of his classmates.

The only aberration came when he started DJ-ing at eighteen. The crowd he fell in with and the partying he did was short lived; they crashed and burned, went up in flames. Everything else faded as quickly as it had come, but the club scene was his escape and it stayed with him.

These days it feels like the only time he recognizes himself, now that his grandfather is gone, too. Until you walked into his store today, that is. You looked him dead in the eyes, unafraid. Just like the night all those weeks ago in the club when you came up to him, flirted with him and challenged him.

He doesn’t know how to move on with his life.

He doesn’t know what’s next.

But wanting you, inviting you into his life, is going to change everything. He knows it in his bones and for once change excites him, instead of frightens him.

June 18th, 1997

For an achingly slow two hours on Thursday the only sounds in the shop are your typing and Jongdae’s tools hitting the metallic insides of the radio he’s fixing. You should be processing yesterday's supply orders. Or cleaning up the books to get everything ready for the days' billing before you make a run to the bank.

But instead you watch in your periphery the way the muscle in Jongdae’s jaw moves when he's focusing. How his brows pull together and his lower lip sticks out slightly, making him look as though he's perpetually pouting. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in school. If he was always so... uptight. Or if he was freer, looser. Not that you’re the picture of ease yourself, but he seems to almost vibrate with tension.

You watch as he turns back to the computer, his fingers fly across the keyboard and you admire the absolute focus he shows toward the screen in front of him. The past few days he’s handled repairs and projects for businessmen and women, families, and two gentlemen in suits that screamed ‘government’ to you. He could be repairing a nuclear warhead in front of you and you imagine his expression would remain the same.

His standard white button-up shirt bunches around his biceps while he works. A mischievous part of you wonders what it would take to make his robotic exterior crack again. What it would take for him to show joy or anger or arousal. Emotion from him is a precious, rare thing and you want to grab them when they do show, holding them tightly as proof they exist.

You jolt, realizing the unintended destination your thoughts have arrived at. Arousal. Where did that come from? With a cough and a shake of your head you refocus on the financial statements in front of you.

If you hadn't seen him that night at the club you'd have wondered if he ever enjoyed himself. He wasn't smiling that night, but the music and the dancing and the palpable energy seemed to soften the hard lines of his face. You want to see more of that Jongdae, the one that feels so much closer to who he really is, underneath it all.

However he started in this business, in the tech scene, he works away at it as though it's his sole purpose in life. He's clearly talented enough to fix anything, code anything. You’d asked him last week how he knows what to do, as you looked into a complicated mess of wires sticking out of a broken CPU as though it were gibberish.

All he’d said, in a gruff voice, was that his grandfather liked to tinker and take things apart before putting them back together, to see how they worked, and that he’d picked up the habit.

'Why do you work by yourself?' The sound of your voice is much louder than intended, breaking the hush in the store. You want to swallow the words, unsure why you didn't stop them from escaping. Instead you bite the skin on the inside of your cheek and watch as he lifts his head to look at you.

Jongdae raises a brow. 'As opposed to?'

You stop typing and lean back in your chair. 'You could have worked for anyone, I bet. After you graduated college. I’ve heard a few of the rumors about you. It sounds like you could have done anything you wanted. What made you want to start your own business?'

He mirrors your pose. 'What makes you think I went to college?'

You blink. For so long your parents' idea of a prosperous life - good grades, extracurriculars, graduate from a top college, get a lucrative, secure job - had been so ingrained that it surprises you to imagine that someone like him didn't go to school. 'You didn't?'

He smiles, the dimple appearing briefly in his cheek. 'Alright, fine. Yes, I did. I went to M.I.T. and I, uhm, graduated at seventeen.'

'Seventeen?' The competitive drive that buried itself in your bones early on wants to prove itself to him, awed by the size of his intellect.

'With my PhD.' He winces. Just for a moment, but you catch it.

'Oh,' you say with a stunned laugh.

He goes back to work with a quick shake of his head and a sigh. 'Yeah, that right there is why I don't tell people.'

You’re surprised by his assumption that you’d view it as a bad or repulsive fact. 'It's amazing. You should be proud of it. Why would you want to keep that a secret?'

His lip pouts again and irrationally you think about what it would be like to kiss him. 'Because now you'll look at me differently. Like I'm some kind of freak of nature.'

'I don't think it makes you a freak.' Your answer is immediate and emphatic.

'Oh really?' He gives you a side-glance, keeping his tone neutral.

'No, it makes you a genius. And intelligence is never a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.' It does nothing to help the attraction you feel for him. Rather than dousing the flames, it pours gasoline on them.

'Tell that to -' he stops himself, pressing his lips together. The bitterness in his voice makes you jerk back in your seat. ‘Nevermind. It was a long time ago. Forget I said anything.’

But you can fill in the gaps, no stranger to the judgement of others. 'Clearly you need better friends.'

He blinks, vulnerability filling his eyes. 'Like you?' His expression softens and he gives you a half-smile.

You blush, realizing what it must look like that you’re so passionate about defending him. 'Sorry, I didn't - all I mean is that it’s attractive.’ You curse yourself and cough delicately, trying to appear impartial. ‘An attractive quality. I just got my master’s and I thought I was advanced for my age. So I just meant to say… I get it. And you’re not a freak.’

The moment stretches out between you, the air in the space seeming to pause. The muted, reverent silence fills the distance once more. But this time it’s charged, tense. Waiting. He breathes in deeply, the shirt he wears stretching across his chest and yet again you long to touch him. For a beat his gaze drops to your lips and he swallows, opening his mouth to speak.

But he’s interrupted by the door opening. The ding of the motion sensor makes you both jolt, turning to see who it is. An older woman comes in carrying a heavy looking bag. She coughs and leans against the door to rest.

Jongdae bolts up from his desk, clearing his throat. 'Here, let me help with that.'

He bows to her with a warm smile, holding his hands out to take the bag. She nods and Jongdae slings the bag over his shoulder, wincing when it collides with his back. With a gentle arm around her back he helps her into the chair opposite his desk.

'Thank you, young man,' the woman says with a smile.

'Not at all,' Jongdae says, resuming his post on the stool. 'How can I help you today?'

You're certain your mouth has fallen open. To difficult customers he's brief, almost condescending, and for the nice ones he’s reserved and polite, but nothing like this. For over an hour he patiently connects the woman's computer to his power strip and walks her through how to use it. 

Again and again he shows her the links and how to work the web browser. Installs a complimentary virus protection program. Makes sure she can find the Solitaire application she loves. And only charges her $20.

But after she leaves the next customer is a businessman dressed in what looks to be a very expensive suit. Jongdae spends the laughably short visit practically sneering at the man. And he charges him at least twice what it says on the pricing list he gave you.

As soon as the door closes you release the laugh you’ve been holding in. 'You know, for someone who runs a business, you seem hell bent on driving some of your customers away.'

He shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes. 'He was a moron. You don't buy the Rolls Royce of computers if you don't know how to drive it.'

'So the only exception here is kind old ladies?'

Jongdae barks out a laugh, meeting your gaze and looking younger than you’ve ever seen him. 'Exactly.'

June 28th, 1997

Moments after you walk out the door for lunch during a bustling Saturday it pings again, announcing yet another customer. This one is probably his scheduled twelve o’clock appointment, Jongade thinks as he looks distractedly at his watch.

He turns to greet them and his entire body recoils. 'What do you want?' Jongdae practically hisses, but he keeps his tone even with all his might.

Since you’ve taken over scheduling Jongdae hardly looks at his calendar anymore. If he’d known Julian Danforth was seeking his help he would have told him to fuck off. Unfortunately Jongdae’s hesitation in talking about his past means you could have no possible idea how much the man standing before him used to matter.

Julian strolls in with a computer in his arms and a smugness on his mouth that Jongdae wants to punch off. His sunglasses are perched on the top of his head and his khaki shorts have neatly pressed lines, clearly not done by the man himself, who drips with privilege.

He'd thought these feelings were long buried, but they roar in Jongdae’s chest. The friendships and the future he almost had are now scattered behind him like a trail of carnage, all the fault of this man. The burn of sadness and embarrassment that fills Jongdae’s stomach was supposed to be gone, relinquished to ashes. But seeing one of his former best friends again Jongdae feels like he's ten years old, stuck in a class with far older students. Young, inexperienced, an outcast.

‘Good afternoon to you as well, old friend.’ Ignoring the daggers Jongdae is staring at him, Julian steps forward, setting the computer down on the desk. 'Like I told the woman on the phone I'm having a problem with some computer virus.'

He says it like it’s a slimy, living thing that had crawled into his machine. Displeasure colors his expression; annoyed at the mere thought that his money and status don’t render him immune from such commonplace problems. ‘You know I don’t trust anyone else with my system.’

After what you did I should smash your computer open. Jongdae doesn't speak as plugs the machine into the power strip he rigged to his desk, not willing to risk what he’ll say.

It's a far more expensive model of computer than most of his clients bring in. Those who purchase such a high end version fall into two camps - enthusiasts like himself who know what they're getting, or the rich and famous who buy them as status symbols and have no clue how to work them. Julian, unfortunately, falls into the latter category.

The computer starts up and Jongdae’s mind goes into work mode, tuning out Julian. The virus has rendered it unusable, only a blur of symbols and lines of code flit across the screen. None of the normal exit keys brings up the desktop. Jongdae purses his lips and slides in the floppy disk he keeps beside his own monitor, an anti-virus he designed.

He leans into muscle memory as he runs through the start up and sets the program to do its job. With any luck the idiot just found some simple malware from some incredibly obvious email spam or downloaded a bug on a porn site. In all social and business sense Julian is a shark; he'd never have fallen for such an obvious scam in real life. But when it came to computers and technology he was hopeless, and thus Jongdae had come into his life years ago.

'How long have you been set up here?' Julian asks with a dismissive glance at the machines and equipment stacked on the shelves.

'Why do you care?' The question comes out harsher than he intends, but the emotion isn't entirely unearned.

Once upon a time he and Julian met in Seattle, after Jongdae was fresh out of M.I.T. and Julian had flunked out of yet another University. They were determined to build a business together. If he had more energy Jongdae would wear this store and his reputation proudly, built from no family connections or money, just his own intelligence and drive. After how thoroughly Julian severed Jongdae’s life he should rub his success in Julian’s face with pride.

Instead he ignores him, determined to move on.

The program finishes its run in rapid time, as though it knows how quickly Jongdae wants this moment to end. The virus dissipates and the desktop loads like normal. He's tempted for a second to indulge his curiosity to see what Julian has been up to. Last he knew Julian had gone to work at his father’s investment bank, dreams of standing on his own cowed by the reality of the world outside of his comfortable bubble. Without Jongdae there’s no way the business and the program held up to scrutiny. 

For a second Jongdae stares at the screen, remembering how good it had felt to have found his people. Tech nerds, hungry to build something that would change the world. Julian, who wanted to cast off his father’s legacy and strike out on his own. Julian’s girlfriend Marissa and her soft heart, who wanted to help people. Their friend Albert, with the plan. 

Once he knew them so well he hardly knew where he ended and they began. But now, all these years later, they’re strangers.

Jongdae looks up and watches Julian as he absently admires the collection of turntables on the wall behind the desk. He knows Julian well enough to know this might be an act of contrition, his way of bridging the gap he created to reach out the olive branch of friendship once more. But Jongdae’s curiosity already killed the cat once, spectacularly, and he has no desire to repeat the mistake.

He unplugs the machine and watches the screen go dark, shoving it with both hands across the polished wood surface towards Julian. 'There. It's fixed.'

For customers who are far more polite and far less acquainted with Jongdae he might have explained what caused the virus or recommended an anti-virus software or even shared best practices to avoid getting one in the future. But, for Julian, he'll do what he was hired for and nothing more.

Julian stands and clears his throat uncomfortably. 'How much do I owe you?' A hint of guilt as he pulls out his wallet.

The motion reminds Jongdae of vacations to Marissa's family home in the San Juans or partying with Julian, Albert, and the rest of them in Capitol Hill. When they turned on him it was like the sun went out. He managed to take his pride and his love of music and DJing and escape. Once Jongae rebuilt his life the doors to the past firmly closed.

Anger finally peeks through as he waves a dismissive arm at Julian. 'I don't want your money. Not spending a second longer in your company will be all the payment I need.' He stands as well. Their business today is done and he lets his memories of the past fall before him like ashes.

An awkward beat passes between them and finally Julian breaks eye contact. With a nod to the ground he pushes out the door and disappears, carrying his computer.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, folds his arms, annoyed at how his position and his continued presence here in Seattle occasionally brings him into contact with people like Julian. He should have moved, he thinks. Gone to Singapore or Berlin or London or New York. But for some reason, he stayed.

Through the front window he watches you laugh with your friends in the food court and smiles to himself, thinking of how you call him Scrooge. It should unnerve him, how quickly seeing you or speaking to you or simply thinking you makes his day better, more hopeful; chases away the shadows that linger in his mind when he's left alone for too long. No, left alone isn't the right word. When he isolates himself.

Jongdae doesn’t really know you, not yet. But already he wants to make all of your dreams come true, he wants to make them real. 

The thought is so sentimental and kind and soft that it brings him up short. He bites the inside of his lip and tries to fight the warm feeling in his chest as he watches you laugh. But as he resumes his work he acknowledges that maybe there was a reason he stayed in Seattle, after all.

The mall is packed during lunch; it’s one of the only days you and your roommates and Hitchcock all work together so you’ve christened it Saturday girl’s lunch time. But Baekhyun and Chanyeol of course crash in, as they always seem to. Loud and raucous and happy. Others from their wide circle of friends drop by to grab slices or to make plans for tonight.

Baekhyun sticks two straws in his nose and makes what are probably very scientifically inaccurate walrus noises. As you laugh so hard you almost snort you can’t help but feel like something is missing. Someone is missing. You look back to the shop, drawn to Jongdae as always.

He works away, resuming his repairs after chasing another customer away with his attitude. You sigh, watching the blonde preppy man carry away his enormous computer, muttering to himself. You rest your foot on the edge of your chair and drop your chin to your knee. From this angle, surrounded by the stark design of the store and the fluorescent lights from above, Jongdae looks like he’s trapped inside of a screen himself.

You bite your lip, debating. He’s made it clear that whatever happened between you at the club isn’t something he will discuss, or repeat. But friendship? Community? You work together five days a week and it wouldn’t kill him to get out of his enclosure once in a while. It’s done you good this month, to be out and about with people. Like you can finally breathe for the first time in a long time. And you decide that it’s high time Jongdae do the same.

Liz and Jane, your roommates, call you ‘determined.’ But they say it in a way that clearly means ‘like a homing missile,’ when you want something. Your nature has served you well; you can cut through the bullshit and figure people out almost instantly. It’s helped you both professionally and personally. Allowed you to know immediately which friendships would last, which ones were worth the effort.

Maybe it’s how Jongdae looks like an island, all alone in the shop. Maybe it’s the large Coke that infused you with far too much caffeine. Maybe it’s your insatiable curiosity. But you can’t keep watching him from afar, not when there’s something you can do about it.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Pulling on your denim jacket, you march over to the store. You lean inside the glass door, holding it open with your shoulder. ‘Hey, you.’

Jongdae looks up at you, confusion tugging his brows together, making him befuddled in the cutest way. You tell yourself to stop thinking of him like that, even if you want to.

He blinks and refocuses on you. ‘Back already?’

‘No, but we’ve got more than enough pizza. Why don’t you join us?’ You grin, making a show of looking around the empty office. ‘It’s finally slowed down, and you deserve a break.’

‘I’m on a deadline with this.’ He gestures to the modem that is scattered around him.

You fold your arms and lean against the door. ‘You can fix that in twenty minutes. I know you.’ He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. ‘And before you throw another excuse you should know I’m very persuasive when I want to be. I don’t think you have another option.’

Jongdae barks out a laugh, dropping the tools in his hand to the desk with a thud. ‘Determined to drag me from my lair, huh?’ He holds your gaze, his expression filling with something akin to heat. Finally he gives you a rueful smile. ‘You’re not going to give up on this, are you?’

You meet his eyes and raise a brow, smiling with satisfaction. ‘Nope. Absolutely not.’

The certainty on his face turns into sadness, so fast you can’t be sure it was really there. Then he closes off and he’s quiet, more so than normal. ‘It doesn’t come easily to me.’

Wondering what could have changed so quickly you step forward, letting the door close behind you. ‘What, pizza?’

It shakes you how desperately you want to know. To peel back his skull and see inside his brain, just to understand what makes him tick. His history and where his future is headed. That small voice inside you whispers that once you figure it out, it still won’t make you care less about him.

‘Friends.’ He says it on a gasp. Looking at the floor fixedly, avoiding your eyes, he seems haunted.

The silence surrounds you both and he finally meets your focus again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The pieces start to come together. He’s intelligent, preternaturally so, and so advanced in school you can’t imagine he’s had much experience with people his own age. And now that he’s in his mid-twenties he’s built himself a fortress. Close enough to the rest of the world, but distinctly separate.

Irrationally you want to reach across the space and wrap his hands in yours. Tug him into your growing group of friends and fix the ache in your chest his expression gives you. Not sympathy and certainly not pity, but some sensation that’s like butterflies in your stomach. But- he’s your boss. You’re not his keeper and you don’t think whatever dangerous emotion lives in you is what would help him.

He’s not yours and you don’t have the right to push, much that you want to.

‘Ah,’ you say. ‘I see. Well, more often than not we have Saturday pizza out there. The offer always stands. I’ll leave you be if you want to be alone, but just -’ you swallow and give him a tentative smile. ‘Just know that we’d be happy to have you join us. I’d be. Uhm. Happy if you joined us.’ It comes out in a rush and you groan.

With a shake of your head, an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty and embarrassment, you wave at him and push back out the door into the noise of the mall.

It’s a shame you don’t turn back. Or no, he thinks, it’s better this way. Jongdae feels far too much for you to keep it contained behind his normally stony expression.

You seem like the kind of person who would take that moment of openness and pull on it, until he unravels in front of you. Fear tells him you would take everything and when you're gone he'd be even more alone than before, now that he knows what it's like with you here.

Looking out through the glass he watches you rejoin the lively group. Always he’s felt like a science experiment, or some kind of circus exhibit when he was growing up. If he didn’t have his grandfather’s steady support and gentle guidance he surely would have become even more isolated.

With a shake of his head, he attempts to refocus on the project at hand. For some reason it doesn't fill him up like he wants it to, his usual joy and satisfaction is missing when he picks up the screwdriver once more. This is where he thrives. Computers and the internet and coding.

To other people it's a labyrinth, impossible to figure out. A world and a language they can speak and learn with effort and intention and study. But to him it's always been as easy as breathing.

His grandfather took his skills from the military and parlayed them into a business as a prolific handyman. It was the world they shared. A place where Jongdae’s creativity and his intelligence could soar. Anything he wanted to build or make, he could. Coding a rudimentary game to pass the time after school, when he could hear the neighborhood kids playing soccer outside.

It took him many wonderful places that he wouldn't have been able to reach if he was, for lack of a better word, normal. As a child and even in school it was so easy to hide behind his grades and his projects and the pride and hope of the adults around him. But now, at twenty five, there’s nothing to keep him hidden anymore.

When lunch is over you return and join him with a nod. He hopes you don't regret asking. He nearly hopes you'll try again. Maybe next Saturday.

For how confident he feels in some spaces - DJing at Shari's, here in his ‘lair’ - at the thought of joining a group of friends he feels again like a nervous thirteen year old sitting in his first college course. Like everyone around him knew how to do things he couldn’t comprehend.

He keeps his thoughts and his feelings to himself; he’s already shared more than he planned. But you draw him back into conversation easily enough, asking about the afternoons orders to be picked up. You don't shy away from him or give him an angry offended air. Inexplicably you still look at him warmly, openly, and he wants more than he's dared to let himself want in a very, very long time.

July 11th, 1997

He doesn't normally leave the office at lunch, preferring to eat his meals in his back office alone, but today Jongdae braves the food court.

It’s a Friday not a Saturday, but it’s a start. He makes brief, yet friendly, conversation with Chanyeol at the pizza place. The taller man smiles at Jongdae, easily, as though he doesn’t second guess the action. He asks if Jongdae had caught the Mariner's game over the weekend and they talk about how Griffey might finally lead Seattle to a World Series this year.

For once he doesn't feel like going back to the office and burying his head in his work. Jongdae awkwardly pulls out a chair in the cluster of tables between the bookstore and the record store. As he takes a bite of his pizza he hears a familiar laugh. Turning around he sees you through the glass of the bookstore.

You speak to the woman who owns Greyhame Books, standing beside someone he thinks is possibly called Jane. It all seems so… easy for you. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean against the counter, discussing the stack of books in front of you with your friends.

Jongdae gives a rare laugh to no one but himself.

When he imagined hiring an accountant and administrator for his flourishing business he thought he'd get someone older. A person with experience and a similar level of wanting to be left alone. They could ignore him and he could ignore them, delegating filing and payments and customer questions and not have to think about them again.

An employee was supposed to reclaim the silence and peace that his work used to bring. Technology is so much simpler and predictable than humans and he’d really prefer to cut other people out of the equation entirely.

But you are the opposite of simple, and you absolutely aren’t someone he can ignore. From the moment he recognized you he knew he had to hire you. With your intensity and your impressive resume and the way your mouth pulls to the side when you’re trying not to smirk.

He doesn't regret it. But he feels raw in a way he hasn't allowed himself to in years. Jongdae doesn't let people get close. Not anymore.

'Hey, Jongdae!'

With a pizza slice halfway to his mouth Jongdae spots Junmyeon approaching, waving, a large Starbucks drink in hand.  He wants to turn away and hide in his pizza. He isn't good at this - making friends. For months Junmyeon has asked him to join in their monthly networking events here at the mall, or asked him to get a drink at Flanagan’s after work to chat. Jongdae’s all out of excuses.

He imagines his life as a circuit board. There’s his life now - pieces and wires scattered around him - and there’s the life he could have. If he’s brave and if he tries. He imagines the pieces fitting together and what they might build. He wonders if you might fit in, if you’d want him or let him.

His knee is jiggling and he’s nervous, but he takes a deep breath and waves back. ‘Hey Jun! Want to join me for a bit?’ Jun’s expression is surprised - the man doesn’t know how to keep back any of his emotions. ‘If you have time, I mean. No pressure.’ He stutters, pulse racing and cheeks reddening.

Jun grins and sits down opposite him. ‘Absolutely. About time! I thought you’d turn me down forever,’ he laughs. ‘Thanks again for helping me with that broken radio last month. You’re a pro. So, how’s business?’ He sips his coffee and waits patiently.

They can talk about business, something so easy? Jongdae wants to laugh with relief. Maybe he can do this after all.

Junmyeon is amused.

After ten minutes of talking shop with Jongdae he watches as you and Jane leave the bookstore next to their lunch spot. He’s owned a business two doors down from Jongdae for years, but he’s never seen him smile before. When you pass by it’s like someone flipped on a light switch. Jongdae has always been somewhat quiet, somewhat serious, except when he DJs. Now he sits straighter, his face softens, and his eyes fixate on yours like a magnet.

The two of you claim the other seats at the table, showing off the books you purchased. In between sips of his coffee Junmyeon balances his own flirtation with Jane and observing - okay, spying - on you and Jongdae.

He’s warmed by not just the caffeinated beverage. There’s a soft energy here- It’s a warm summer day and he’s discussing books, one of his all-time favorite topics. His mind whispers the words ‘double date’ and he smiles to himself for a moment before blinking.

“Are you alright?” Jane asks, gently resting her hand on Junmyeon’s wrist on the table.

He blushes and gives her a reassuring nod and asks if she’s read the Octavia Butler book on top of her stack yet. It’s an attempt at distraction and he knows it. But thankfully Jane’s eyes crinkle in the corners when she talks about the author, not pausing or seeming to notice the way he was fantasizing for a beat.

Across from him you and Jongdae are arguing about the merits of Isaac Asmiov. Jongdae is more articulate, more animated, more alive than he’s ever seen him. Gesturing emphatically and saying something about how robots are friends, not foes as you interrupt him by reminding him about Terminator. Neither of you seem to acknowledge the attraction between you. It’s been months since you started working at Chen’s, if Junmyeon remembers correctly.

In his periphery he sees Temptation, the chocolate store, and thinks of how Yixing and his girlfriend met on the job. One of his favorite poems mentions how love mirrors the lover; that everyone falls in love in a way akin to their personality. Yixing, passionate and insatiable and spontaneous, fell for Lavender in minutes and days. He saw what he wanted and after a slight pause to make sure it’s what Lav really wanted, he made the move.

Jongdae is nothing if not the complete opposite. Calculating and reserved and inscrutable.

His potential new friend is falling, if the lingering looks he gives you and the way he’s almost touched your shoulder not once but twice are any indication. But it’s a mystery to Junmyeon if, or when, Jongdae will ever make a move. You aren’t the same kind of romantic as Yixing’s girlfriend, someone playful and open with your emotions. You’re driven and witty and warm in your own way. Clearly you care for Jongdae, but in a quieter sense.

Junmyeon imagines this will be a marathon of love, not a sprint.

Eventually lunch hours end for all of you. There’s clients to see and paperwork to do and as he waves to you and Jane he wonders what will become of you and Jongdae. If you’ll stay as co-workers, always flirting and secretly wondering what might be. Or if either of you will push the other into action. The chess board is laid out, pieces waiting to be moved. It might just be his imagination, but Junmyeon hopes that one of you gets the game going.

He does also, perhaps, focus on you and Jongdae as a way to ignore how his own heart beats a bit faster around Jane. How he can’t stop staring at her dimple when she smiles or the head tilt she gives him when she’s really listening. Like he’s the only person in the world. No, he absolutely doesn’t think about Jane’s feet i n his lap as they both read on the couch in his living room. He doesn’t wonder what it would be like to kiss her or hold her hand. Absolutely not.

Instead he invites Jongdae to the monthly Settlers of Catan night he has with Minseok and some other folks from the mall. Much safer territory than wondering about his own love story and if still waters truly do run deep where he and Jane are concerned.

August 11th, 1997

On a surprisingly rainy yet unsurprisingly dead Monday morning Jongdae forces you away from your insistent attempts to organize his paperwork to the market a few streets over. The quiet bakery on the hill above Pike Place has a view of the misty Sound beyond. He sits close beside you, carefully keeping his knees away, lest he bump yours and you do the same, perhaps letting them linger a moment each time they collide.

It’s nice here, you notice suddenly, as you take the first sip of your coffee. The smell of dark roast and fresh almond scones. The breeze coming in through the open door. The soothing, distant sound of jazz from the overhead speaker. The pleasant warm lighting, far different than the aggressively bland fluorescent kind he chose for Chen's. Everything puts you at ease, wraps around you the way you wish Jongdae’s arms would.  

'This place reminds me of Amsterdam.' You smile, looking down into your cappuccino to avoid Jongdae’s eyes.

‘Have you ever been?’ he asks, voice softer than it normally is.

With a shake of your head you trace the edge of the teal and white ceramic cup in front of you. ‘No, but I’ve seen pictures. I used to love photo books growing up. Atlases and travel guides. It’s always been my favorite section of the library.’

He hums for a moment, considering. 'If you could go anywhere in the world, is that where you'd choose?'

Tucking your hair behind your ears you bite your lip to avoid grinning at him. He’s making you remember long-forgotten parts of yourself. Before school and work became the end point, the be-all end-all that your life was funnelled towards. Back when you imagined exploring every country on the planet. Taking photos and making memories. A long time ago, in the days before you realized how expensive it is to actually be a wanderlust-filled adventurer.

Finally you look at him. Something in his irises makes you swallow; an endless, nameless emotion that lives in him you can never seem to place. Elusive and frustrating and tempting all at once.

‘Yes,’ you admit. Voice dry and heart racing you look back to your coffee in avoidance. ‘It’s my dream to travel there. I’m a bit obsessed with it, really.’

'You? Obsessed?' Jongdae smirks, a boyish grin you want to cover with your own mouth.

You roll your eyes, tracing the handle of your mug. 'Hush. It's such a beautiful city with all the canals and the architecture and history, and the food is to die for. Every quaint European city fantasy in one. What about you, have you done much traveling?'

He shakes his head. ‘Not personally. But - my grandfather went everywhere in Europe, after the war.’ His admission is so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s as if your soul is waiting for every crack in the door to Jongdae you can find, and you don’t pass up the opportunity. ‘What was he like?’

It happens sometimes, when you’re working together. The times there’s no customers around and the mall gets empty and you can’t help but be aware of him. Against your skin and with your hands, eyes feasting on him when the rest of you is forbidden from doing so. In the moments when he isn’t putting on airs of being the tech mogul or the reclusive jerk or the awkward, secretly friendly nerd around Jun or Minseok.

Those times when Jongdae meets your eyes and you see the real him, beneath it all. Wanting and alone and scared. Your breath catches in your throat just as it does now and you long to ask him plainly if he feels the way you do. Being honest with your words and not just your jokes or looks out the corner of your eyes when you catch him watching you too.

But those feel too fragile, too dangerous to utter. So instead you ask him about his family, someone close enough to Jo ngdae’s heart to glimpse the core of him; like a sun during an eclipse you can only look for a moment, lest you get burned.

'My grandfather?’ Brows furrow, the corners of his cat-like lips tilting down for a moment. You nod gently, cupping your drink for something to occupy your hands.

Jongdae looks out at the water for a moment, his mouth tugging to the side as he ponders. ‘You know when you finally solve a puzzle you’ve been working on for ages? Hours of struggling to find the right combination and finally it’s all laid out, perfectly in alignment.’

You nod, trying not to smile and ruin the moment, but softened by him nonetheless. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

When his gaze lands on your hands he pauses, like he’s wondering if the two of you might fit in a similar way. But it’s gone before you can grasp onto the moment. Sadness colors his features then. Not the aching kind that gnaws away like a feral monster, leaving nothing in its wake, but the beautiful, bittersweet sadness of a love greater than grief.

His voice is thick when he next speaks. ‘My grandfather was that person for me. We just - fit. He understood me better than my parents did. More than any of my classmates or the few people I’ve ever gone out with. We didn’t even need to speak.’ Jongdae pauses and taps his fingers on the counter.

You give in and reach for his hand, not to hold it - not yet. But to cover it with your own for a moment of understanding, of comfort.

He smiles at you, the crease between his brows disappearing for a moment. ‘He was fifty one years older than me and he was my best friend.’

‘I’ll bet you miss him quite a lot?’ You realize how incredibly inadequate the sentiment is and shake your head, moving to withdraw your hand. ‘Sorry - that’s - of course you miss him.’

But Jongdae doesn’t let you retreat. With his free hand he holds yours in place. Warmth floods your body from the connection point and you’re unable to take your eyes off him. ‘It’s alright, I know what you mean.’ He traces your thumb with a barely there motion, seemingly without intending to. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ You ask, a bit breathless and unable to mind.

‘For always asking. For always listening.’ He says it simply, as though it’s a novel concept. Perhaps, given what you know of his life, who he is, not many people dare to ask. Or bother to listen.

Soon paperwork and customers and regular life draw you back to Chen’s Electronics. He doesn’t mention the way you reached for him and you don’t either. But when you go to leave that afternoon Jongdae holds out your jean jacket for you to slip on. And when you thank him he gives you the soft, secret grin you’ve learned he saves only for you.

On the way home you think that Amsterdam might be the most beautiful city you can imagine, but that it pales in comparison to a hole-in-the-wall cafe in Seattle, as long as Jongdae is seated beside you.

September 9th, 1997

The summer turns into fall and one Monday evening, seemingly without his noticing, Jongdae realizes that his appointment book is full to bursting.

On Tuesday night he's playing Settlers of Catan with Minseok, Bookworm, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon. They meet up in the food court after the mall closes at nine, second Tuesday of every month.

Wednesday he has lunch with Jun and some other business owners in the mall for their monthly networking/commiserating 'sesh' as Yixing calls it. That afternoon he's promised to help Minseok install the new upgrades to his store's database software that 'make him want to rip out his hair' in exchange for a few coveted LPs Jongdae's had his eyes on for a 70’s/grunge remix set at Shari's.

Thursday night there’s a L.A. Confidential screening at the theater that Baekhyun talked him into, after their argument about whether or not Russel Crowe could actually act or if he was just handsome.

Saturdays are pizza and raucous laughter to break up the busy weekends full of work and clients and deadlines, followed by long nights of DJ-ing and circling you as if you are a sun, drawing him in with the pull of your gravity. He’s merely a comet attracted by the force you give off and he’s not even upset at the realization.

Sehun, Jongin, and Yixing practically bribed him into joining their 'Sunday morning brunch and biceps' workout group, saying that they need a fourth and everyone else is normally sleeping off their hangovers or works the opening shift.

It’s other people’s names all over his schedule, but what he feels is you. Everywhere, all over him. He knows it’s you. Not intentionally, perhaps. But you opened a door for him with your ease and generosity. One Saturday pizza lunch and somehow he’s gotten to know more people in two months at the mall than he had in the years before combined.

You’d wave him off if he mentioned it or thanked you. With that adorable tilt of your head you would smirk and tell him that all he has to do is give people a chance. That they don’t bite.

Irrationally he wants to do things for you - not just as a friend but in the romantic sense - like buy you flowers or have you by his side at Thursday movie screenings or take you to Amsterdam, just to watch you bloom among the flowers. But that would be… crazy, right? He sits in his favorite armchair unable to focus on the book in front of him and runs agitated hands through his hair.

He’s not your boyfriend or your partner. He’s your boss or your co-worker and possibly your friend. Why does he think of holding your hand and walking along the canals of some foreign city every time you look in his direction?

Why does the once-comforting quiet of his apartment feel more and more empty when you’re not laying on the couch across from him, reading and teasing him? Why does he wake up and wish that someone besides himself filled his bed? Someone with your expressions and your joy and your stubborn insistence.

He briefly makes a mental note to ask Yixing how he ended up dating Lavender before suddenly tossing the book to the floor, standing with a groan.

‘What a ridiculous idea!’ he yells aloud to the empty apartment. Jongdae paces circles in the carpet of his living room and wonders if part of being in love is going slightly insane, if everyone who manages to do so finds the madness enjoyable or if love is simply folie à deux?

He looks at his calendar, spread open on his grandfather’s old, wooden desk and tries to comprehend how his life could be so different one year to the next. Like he’s grasping at straws or wisps of air. Aside from work and his grandfather and music, what did he have before? The occasional alumni event or guest lecture at his alma maters?

For a minute his chest feels too full to breathe, unable to let in anything more. Panic tugs at him for a second. It’s too much, all at once - too many people and too many events. Too many opportunities to mess up and these people? He can’t sever his life completely like he did from Julian and his friends. They're so connected to this space he's made his business in. What will happen when he inevitably falls out of favor with them?

He imagines himself shunned and the idea hurts worse than before. Back then he had chosen isolation; to have it thrust unwillingly upon him, unasked, is too much to comprehend.

Once he walked naively into friendship, believing it was easy and that it would last. That there was no rug that would be unceremoniously swept out from under him. But people change, faster than he can believe.

Jongdae sits on the floor, his pajama pants brushing his crossed legs, and forces himself to steady his breathing. These people are not his old friends at Microsoft, he reminds himself. Nor are they the kids in school who teased him, or his classmates in college who resented him or treated him like an annoyance.

Like he’s always practiced, he turns to facts to calm his mind. He’s safe - the apartment is his and he has plenty of money. Not just from his business but from his grandfather’s life insurance. If he wanted to leave - if he was forced to, he thinks he could do it. But something within him howls at the idea of leaving what he has now.

For the first time in ages he has ideas, plans, and dreams for what to do with his life. Now he has people he cares about, people who he trusts to be kind rather than fearing they’ll betray or leave him. You’re at the center of it, if you let him. Determination takes hold of him and doesn’t let go. After a few moments his panic subsides, washed away by the bright promise of a future he’s never dared to imagine before now. Before you.

September 13th, 1997

By the end of your second drink you contemplate being the one to risk it all and ask Jongdae out.

In the months you’ve worked together you stopped seeing him as a challenge and started viewing him instead as the push to your pull. The yang to your yin. The - you sip on your rum and coke and get lost in the tug of his brows and the set of his lips as he spins rather than finding another apt metaphor.

The first time you met him you knew there was something underneath his hard exterior, but you had no idea how correct you’d be proven. Somehow he walks the tightrope between being harsh and being softer than you thought possible. But rather than turn you off you find you’re drawn to his bewildering mix of wry humor, nerdy fixations, and raw emotion. It unlocks all the jagged parts of you that you try to keep so nicely pressed together.

For someone who has been deemed too much to handle finding a man who seems to do it with ease is staggering. He loves your bossy, charismatic nature and your ideas about new things to try at the store. He listens intently when you rattle off obscure facts about your favorite books and movies. He sees your dreams of traveling, of being part of community here, as a complement, not a detriment to your professional career.

A voice startles you. “So when are you going to jump his bones?” Baekhyun is the kind of puppy dog, glowing cheeks, wide-eyed endearing drunk you wish you could hate.

He waggles his brows at you and you snort, shoving him away with your shoulder. “I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”

You weave your way around the perimeter of the dance floor, trying and failing to not fixate on Jongdae with every step.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve got a thing for the DJ.” His mouth tugs into a smug grin and you groan. “And word on the street is he wants you too.”

“He’s my boss.” The last of your drink burns your throat and you belly up to the bar to order another. “Get real.”

Always a hoe for gossip, Baekhyun leans one elbow against the bar and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. Rather than speak and risk your wrath again he merely looks between you and Jongdae, waiting.

You pride yourself on not giving into temptation for all of ten seconds and then blurt out - “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun presses his lips together to suppress a grin. He raises a finger and holds it up. “You’ll see.”

The bartender is tied up with a group at the far end so you sigh and turn, resting your back against the bar top. With folded arms you observe the club. “We’re about to be abducted by aliens? Jongin’s going to breakdance? Minseok and Bookworm are -”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient. You two really are a match made in heaven.”

“Me and Jongdae?” If you weren’t already buzzed you’d deny it more. But the permission to speak openly about your feelings for the DJ is too tempting. “You think so?”

Before he can tease you again a motion up ahead catches your focus. Jongdae looks up without tilting his head. His eyes cut to the left, to the two overflowing booths that are filled with the usual crew from the Exodus Mall. With amusement you follow his eye line as he scans the dance floor, looking for something. He never breaks the movement of his hands, spinning the vinyl and working the controls.

Finally his focus lands on you and Baekhyun at the bar. Jongdae’s eyes widen and that unreadable expression settles on his features, no emotion escaping. Your heart picks up, cheeks heating with awareness. There’s nothing to do but hold his gaze for long seconds while the club pulses with life around you. Isolated and together, even across the room.

And then Baekhyun ruins it.

With a comically large wave he smiles at Jongdae. The motion breaks Jongdae’s focus and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend’s ridiculousness. A smile tugs at his lips and he gives you a look of commiseration and you laugh, reaching over to ruffle Baekhyun’s blonde hair.

The song changes and Jongdae finally looks away. A second later the bartender appears, asking you for your next order. Baekhyun waits patiently beside you, arms folded against the bar, his smugness a tangible thing in the air between you two.

You bite your lip and look at yourself in the mirror behind the bar, visible between the clear shelves of liqueurs and syrups. Could he feel the same way? Does Jongdae imagine holding you, kissing you, being with you the same way you do with him in your unguarded moments?

The two of you already do so much together - work five days a week. Meals alone or with friends. Nights here, separate but still united in the bubble of the dance club. It strikes you just how thin the line is between friends and coworkers and … something more. A four-letter sinful word that starts with L and implies dangerous things like hands touching hands followed by lips and skin and teeth. A different four-letter word full of softness and commitment that has no place being in your mind at the same time as Jongdae’s name.

A hand rests gently on your shoulder. “I told you,” Baek says sincerely. He disappears after waggling his damned eyebrows one more time and leaves you at the bar, wondering.

Half of you wants to confess to him out of genuine affection and desire for connection; you can’t escape the way he makes you long to be reckless and daring and bold and romantic in the kind of grand gesture sense that you’d have rolled your eyes at before you met him. The delicate balance makes your palms sweat and your glass shake slightly as you raise it to your lips. From nerves or excitement or a mix of the two.

You could make the first move, but the logical half of your mind wins out. Instead you swallow your drink in three gulps and head over to the DJ booth to talk to him and nothing more. Close enough to be comforted by his nearness but keeping your desire closeted behind your fear. Tonight that’s all you can manage.

Passing by Yixing and Lavender dancing is a reminder of all the good love can bring. Yixing’s hands holding her close, her arms folded around his neck and their foreheads together. Intimate words are shared that aren’t meant for your ears, even if you could hear them over the sound of the music.

But just beyond is Baekhyun and Hitch. She laughs and dances out of his way as he tries to tickle her. They’re obviously in love to anyone who watches, so why haven’t they admitted it and had a go at being together? Maybe it’s for the best, you wonder. If trying and failing and ruining what you have it worse than never trying at all.

Before you can wander too far down the road of doubt and consequences you remember how it felt to have Jongdae’s hand on top of yours. The thought of tomorrow and the days after disappear altogether when you feel Jongdae’s eyes on you once more, drawing you closer to him, whether he knows his effect on you or not. When you reach the booth you decide to stop thinking in general, and let yourself feel instead.

Saturday night and he's in his element. In the booth, far away from the rest of the crowd but still a part of it. Adrenaline in his veins. Music is Jongdae’s therapy. An alter ego much like the comic book characters he read about growing up. It's the skin he can put on when he's tired of being himself. A place where he can set down the baggage of his identity for a night and get lost in the beats.

He closes his eyes, savoring the pattern of the vinyl beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly, he feels you. Of course you're here. He's never free from you, he thinks with a rueful smile. First you invaded this place, his escape and his temple. Then you wormed your way into his business as though you always belonged there. Now you're occupying his senses the way you occupy his thoughts at all hours.

For a beat he admires you, standing at the bar rolling your eyes while Baekhyun waves dramatically. He drinks you in with a last look at your fabulous legs before reluctantly turning back to switching out one album for the next. Lately you’ve taken to joining him for a bit while he spins and he hopes that once again you’ll come up to the booth tonight.

He's not a patient man, or a subtle one. If he wanted to be rid of you, you'd be gone. Severed with the kind of brutal finality he showed to anyone from his time after M.I.T. There are no second chances as far as he's concerned. But still, you remain. Infuriating, exhilarating. Never far from his consciousness.

'You look like you're having a good time!'

Sooner than expected your voice breaks his trance and he lifts his eyes to look at you. His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he swallows harshly. He doesn't know how you do it - how you effortlessly change to match your surroundings.

One minute you're his office manager, polite and respectful and skilled. Already he sees the business taking shape, becoming more cohesive and smooth beneath your talented mind and heart. And your feisty insistence that he upgrade and finesse his marketing and finally finish putting together a website for Chen’s.

The next minute you're leaning over the edge of the booth, chest coming forward and revealing your neckline. The red is fitting on you. It brings out the natural flush in your cheeks and makes you look perpetually alive. He feels stagnant by comparison, a man of stone who remains unchanging while the world passes him by.

The tumble of hair across your shoulders and the delight in your eyes are so beautiful he wants to reach for you. To reach for more, be more than who he has been - afraid and alone. Bitterness lives in his heart, swatting away anyone who gets too close. But here you are, knocking once more on the door of his being.

He finds his voice, his hands thankfully moving on muscle memory as he drops in the next remix. 'It's good energy tonight,' he fumbles. 'I love this song.' You nod in agreement.

It’s easy, being with you. Together you talk about work and the music he plays and your group of friends. Chanyeol and Bijoux, who finally got together again after what seems like months of back and forth. Bets on how long Minseok will wait before he proposes to Bookworm, now that they’re an official item. Joking about Baekhyun and Hitch like always.

He shows off for you, just a little. Spins 'Scream' by Michael and Janet jackson with a bit more pizazz than usual. It strikes him as amusing how much he always hated being watched before this. Not that many people pay particular attention to him as a DJ, but he thinks he might like the way it feels to be watched by you.

He wants to watch you, too, for as long as you let him. He already can’t take his eyes off you. No matter how much that idea might terrify him. When he drops the next mix and the crowd cheers at ‘Tubthumping’ he gives you a rare broad smile and it's like being punched in the chest when you return it with an unexpectedly shy one of your own.

Jongdae almost invites you into the booth. He sees it as though it were one of the romantic comedies that are so popular right now. You would take your place in front of him. He'd get to rest his hand on top of yours, guiding your movements. Maybe as you got the hang of it he would slide them to hold your hips, keeping your back to his chest as his mouth finds your neck.

Liz invites you to dance and Jongdae wipes the probably awed look off his face with effort. He needs some cold water, immediately.

Friday September 19th

Jongdae is upset about something. It’s not so much that you now seem to be able to pick up his moods with ease, which is true, but the fact that he is nearly tearing his hair out. A piece of paper sits in front of him on the desk but it’s too far away for you to read.

By the time he groans for the fifth time you finally speak up. ‘Are you alright?’

His head jerks up and his eyes are tired when they meet yours. Not ‘it’s been a long week’ tired, but something sad in his expression that makes him look fragile and younger than his years.

For a moment he shakes his head. Then he picks up the paper and waves it in the air, opening and closing his mouth in rapid succession. The confusion on his normally self-assured face would be comical if it wasn’t such an obviously distressing situation. Finally he drops the paper and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

‘I just got word that they’re demolishing the apartment building I live in. I have to move by November 1st.’

Instantly you want to hug him or hold his hand. ‘Your grandfather’s apartment?’

Jongdae nods. ‘They’re tearing it down so they can put in some luxury condos. Yet another classic neighborhood about to be wiped out in the name of progress.’ He sighs, looking at the ceiling to compose himself. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so-’

‘No, it’s -’ you start, unsure of your destination. ‘It’s an important place. And it’s your home. Don’t apologize for being pissed off about it.’

He nods, taken aback. ‘Exactly. It’s where I grew up. I’ve also never had to look for an apartment or move, either. So this will be dreadful.’

You bite the inside of your cheek. The offer to help practically leaps from your mouth and you hold it close for a moment, making sure you don’t rush into something that’s out of your depth. But as always your logic overrules your fear.

‘I could help, if you like?’ He’s just your boss slash co-worker. It’s innocent. It’s harmless, right? ‘I’ve moved so often with school and everything. I know my way around the city.’

In the ensuing pause Jongdae’s solemnity returns, his mouth and the lines of his face don’t give away any emotion. But, as always, he holds you in place with his expression. And his eyes have that fire within that he seems to only show to you. ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

You nod, case closed. Turning back to your computer you lie to yourself further, pretending not to notice how his voice lowered. As though he knew you weren’t just offering for help with his living situation. But something more raw and painful that he isn’t prepared to hold on his own just yet.

For how picky you thought you were about apartments, Jongdae has you beat by a mile. Student housing accustomed you to wonky flooring and cramped kitchens and the charming yet ancient windows on many older Seattle homes. But his grandfather’s gorgeous pre-war unit had made Jongdae’s tastes quite particular.

On Tuesdays and on weekends you pulled up listings and showed Jongdae around the city by way of it’s apartments, condos, and houses. He enjoyed the nature surrounding Greenlake, the affordable houses north of UW in Ravenna, and the vibe of Ballard and Fremont. But he ruled anything north of 520 out quickly as ‘too far from the store.’ The luxury of walking to work on nicer days was something he wasn’t willing to part with.

The same unfortunately ruled out a townhouse in Alki that you had salivated over, a block from the beach. Pioneer Square had some great lofts that would have been perfect for a music-lover like Jongdae, but he vetoed those as well. Along with all the trendy industrial lofts near the stadiums, claiming he hated all the construction going on nearby.

It should have been frustrating, to spend endless hours watching him nix perfectly wonderful places. In Queen Anne he hated the hills. Westlake he disliked the mall. Madrona, Leschi, Montlake, Magnolia, and Lake Union all came close but still he shook his head and said ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to landlord after landlord.

It should have driven you mad, but all it did was make you like him more.

Falling in love with Jongdae isn’t what you had planned. But from the first night you saw him at the club some part of you knew it was inevitable, the way the rain in autumn starts off as a light drizzle and before you know it becomes a torrential downpour, blanketing the city and saturating every exposed corner.

He always brought you coffee and insisted on buying breakfast or lunch. He always picked you up, right on time. Held doors and made sure he didn’t walk too fast and did the thing where his arm hovered over your back when the two of you were in crowded spaces. Not touching, but close enough you could feel him protecting you. On anyone else you would have absolutely hated that, but of course from him, you craved it.

Day after day you listened to music in his car as the two of you drove around little neighborhoods hoping to find something, complaining about how tight and ridiculous the parking situation always is. Joking about your friends or the news or the latest books you’re reading. They hardly felt like dates. No, they felt like something even more insidious. Like being in a relationship with him. Easy and warm and friendly and the kind of thing you could get used to.

But eventually it had to end, before it seemed like either of you were ready.

On a surprisingly warm Tuesday in October the two of you walk into a place that no one could object to. The building is in south Capitol Hill, close to Cal Anderson and only a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the mall. It’s designed in the classic Victorian style of the neighborhood, but was completed just three years ago. Small pane windows and a fireplace with a carved mantle and dark spires on the roof, all with brand new insulation and appliances.

Sunlight floods the corner unit on the top floor and you gasped as soon as the door opened. Jongdae stands beside you as the landlord goes over the details of the square footage and the building amenities, but neither of you are listening anymore.

‘What do you think?’ he asks softly. The five-story building sits on a slight hill and overlooks the rest of downtown, with a partial water view around the tall downtown skyscrapers.

‘I think it’s as close to perfect as you’re going to get.’

He moves closer and rests his palms on the window sill, looking around for a moment before turning his head to watch you. ‘Good.’

After a long pause Jongdae pushes off the windows and politely interrupts the landlord, who is currently opening every single cabinet in the kitchen and giving a detailed run down of his wife’s favorite tupperware, asking about the deposit. The way he phrased it along with the attentive way he waited for your approval makes you wonder if he wasn’t just picking this apartment for himself.

Imagining yourself there scares you. If he was seeking your opinion… surely he would be hoping you’d come over? Neither of you have spoken a word about the bizarre yet undeniable attraction you have, but that hardly forms the basis of a relationship. A boyfriend who wanted to be sure you liked his new place would be one thing, but your friend and co-worker who has never admitted to even liking you is quite another.

You lean against the edge of the window and run a finger along the ledge. A small part of you whispers that you’re supposed to be doing something else, eventually. You won’t work at Chen’s forever, but it wasn’t meant to be this hard to leave. It’s just a stop on the way to your final destination. So why do you want to get off the train altogether and make a home here?

Would it be so terrible, to be with him? It’s been a fantasy for so long that imagining real life with him makes you suck in a breath as though you’ve been punched in the gut. It could be a fresh start for you both. The end of one adventure and the beginning of a new one. You remind yourself that being in love doesn’t mean you can’t travel or change the world. Being with Jongdae would hopefully only encourage your dreams, not stifle them.

As they discuss deposit and applications and timelines for moving into the apartment you wander into the other rooms.

The bathroom has a large tub and dual sinks. You can only imagine what your expression must be like right now, given your swirling emotions, and avoid the mirror altogether. The second bedroom is more like a cozy office, narrow enough for a desk and a couch and perhaps some bookshelves. In the bedroom you hesitate at the doorway, reaching up to play with the pendant of your necklace.

Windows run along both sides, meeting in a corner. You think of plants lining the wide ledges and going to sleep with the setting westward sun and how short of a walk it would be to get breakfast from your favorite bagel shop that’s just a block away. It’s close to the mall and the club. It’s truly perfect.

As you watch cars pass and people walk by down below you space out, the image blurring and becoming Jongdae on a bed in this room, leaning back against the pillows with a book in his lap. Smiling at you and pulling you close since he knows you refuse to get up earlier than you have to on your days off.

Inexplicably you want to cry and you huff out a laugh, squeezing your eyes tightly only to find that they’re damp. It’s not anger that the vision inspires in you or even sadness. It’s frustration and amusement that war inside you as you think about how you fell in love with him without your consent. Rational thinking should have stopped this long ago, but all you can think as you stand there is how nice it is to be with him. And how you wouldn’t mind being with him for a long while.

The only thing that helps ease the tension in your chest is how he looks at you on the drive back to your place. You fill the time with discussions of moving trucks and hiring a company to help with the heavy lifting, but you’re both clearly distracted by other thoughts. He pulls his car up to your apartment and you try to avoid looking at him as you say goodbye, but he briefly rests his hand on your knee to get your attention.

Your hand stops in its motion to grab your bag and ends up nearly on top of his, but you make no movement to break the contact. ‘Thank you,’ he says softly. ‘I mean it.’ Jongdae turns his hand and holds yours, giving it a quick squeeze and looking like he never wants to let go.

October 12th, 1997

You’re eating cheesy bread at Barada with Hitch, but today she’s different - evasive and nervous in a strange way. 'So I - uhh. I have news,' she finally says. She sips her drink and looks at the table rather than at you. 'I don't know if I should tell you though.'

Pausing in your chewing you raise a brow. 'You can tell me anything, you know that.'

She awkwardly runs a hand along her neck. 'No I know. I just -' she huffs out a breath and blows her hair off her forehead..

'You and Baekhyun finally had sex and you're pregnant?' You smirk at her as she chokes on her soda. 'Come on, just spit it out.'

She waves and hand and very quickly says - 'There's a project manager position open in the gaming division. Some new big thing and they're looking for an upstart to head up operations.'

You frown and tear off another slide of bread, not understanding her odd behavior at all. 'Okay… and you're thinking what, thinking of applying?'

'No, you dork. I'm thinking you should apply.' She tilts her head like she assumed your reaction would be more immediate. 'You wanted me to keep an eye out for you, right? I didn't want to say anything since - '

'Since?' you ask, both afraid of what she'll say and dying to know. Terrified it will have to do with Jongdae and the swirling mess of feelings you have for him.

It’s her turn to be wry. 'Since you and Jongdae have been attached at the hip.'

'Really?' You stall, taking an enormous bite.

Hitch tosses a balled-up napkin at you. 'Yes. When I met you in college I thought 'there goes the most intense person I've ever met.’ And then I met Jongdae after he opened Chen’s and he gave you a run for your money.' She dusts off her hands. 'You both could be making millions someday. Taking over countries or saving the world or something. We all know it. I don't know, I didn’t want to mention this because together you guys seem happier. Softer? Something like that..'

'And you think me getting a job there would ruin that?' Her words mirror your fears exactly and your stomach drops.

'It's taken me years to get Jongdae to even look at me after I told him where I worked. He hates Microsoft. With good reason, from what you've implied. I'm sure you could make it work, but trust me when I say if you get swept up into that upper management spiral, we probably won't see you again.'

'I won't completely abandon you guys just because I get a new job.' But doubt whispers in your mind. The long hours and the endless meetings and the extra work to always be the best, to always be ahead. 'Okay fine, I see your point. I still have to try, right? I should at least apply.'

She rests her hand over yours where you have your napkin in a death grip on the table. 'You don't have to do anything, babe. We'll always be here for you even if you become a tech mogul overnight. But will it make you happy? Whatever comes next... do it for yourself, okay? Not just cause you think you should.'

You smile and hold her hand for a moment, wrinkling your nose. 'Thank you, Hitch. I needed that. What about you? You said you were going to apply for that transfer to the NYC office, are you still considering it?'

She blows out a deep breath and pulls her hand back, dropping her forehead to it for a moment. 'God, I don't know. My whole life is here. And I'd have to leave the theater.' She rests her chin on her palm and looks up at you with a dramatic frown. 'My friends are all here. My family. I love where I'm at, but I know that something eventually has to change.'

'Baekhyun?' You grin at her, wondering if the move might finally force them to admit their feelings.

Hitch straightens and looks across the food court to the movie theater. 'Yeah, something like that.' She gives you a dramatic waggle of her brow. 'Jongdae?'

You groan and fold your arms, sinking lower into your seat. Even your roommates ask about him now. Everyone can surely see how you light up around him. The way you gravitate towards the DJ booth on club nights like a moth to a flame. The way you draw him into conversations and brag about him. It should be forbidden territory, as untouchable and unreadable as he is. Not to mention he's your boss.

But worst of all he still hasn't said anything about it, nothing more than the occasional flirtatious comment or lingering look. Even after all your time together and the way he looked at you in the new apartment. For all you know he sees you as a very stubborn employee who happens to force your way into things.

You cover your face with your hands and sigh. 'Something like that.'

Hitchcock stands and takes your shared tray of dishes to the bus station with a throaty laugh. 'That's what I thought.'

November 1st, 1997

Jongdae is frantically packing up more of his bookshelf when the doorbell rings. He smiles on instinct. It's not something he can help anymore, not when he knows it's you on the other side. Right at nine in the morning, just when you promised the movers would be here. With a last look around his living room at the organized chaos he wipes his hands on his sweatpants and stands.

It surprised him how quickly you agreed to help with - well, everything, really.

When he told you about his move he didn’t expect anything would come of it. It's his problem, not yours. He didn't imagine for a moment you'd give the announcement more attention than a sympathetic word or two. But you stepped to his side. Put up with his grouchy persistence in believing that there's no place in the world, let alone in Seattle, that would be as amazing as this apartment. As it always seems with you, he found himself proven wrong.

You didn't let him wallow and guided him with your decisiveness through the checklist of everything he'd need to do. A few months ago he would have waved you off. Decided you were being bossy or nosy and turned down the help with a cold shoulder. 

But now he wants you around for everything and the thought makes him pause with his hand on the doorknob.

He made sure you like his new apartment too because - when he isn't expecting it he imagines you there. Not just as his co-worker or employee or even as his friend. As someone more permanent. Lasting. It's not that he needs you to run his life for him, he's perfectly capable of doing things on his own. It's just that he loves how you barge your way into his world and refuse to let him be alone.

Jongdae doesn't know how yet, but he wants to show you how he feels in return. It's like trying to run with a blindfold on, but he desperately hopes that he can figure out how to care about you in the way you deserve. Bringing you coffee and asking about your day and giving you all the freedom you want at work are a start, but they barely scratch the surface of how much he feels for you.

He's got one idea. A big one. An insane one, that you'll probably call him nuts for suggesting. If he ever gets up the nerve someday.

The buzzer sounds again and he shakes himself out of it. Finally he pulls it open and is greeted by your smiling face in the morning gray light. Hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a long black shirt and faded overalls. He leans against the doorframe, wondering if he's ever seen anything more beautiful than you on his doorstep.

'So, I have a surprise,' you start. With a free hand you nervously brush your hair behind your ear. It's so unlike you that he immediately wonders if something is wrong.

'What is it?'

Before you can answer, noise in the parking lot draws his focus. His front door faces the open-air walkway that leads to the stairs down to the parking lot. He expected a moving truck and several buff men in logoed shirts. Instead it's a scrappy group of your friends - his friends now, he supposes - looking tired but ready to help.

Junmyeon and Jane drink coffee and pull furniture dollys and heavy blankets out of a Uhaul truck. Liz and Jongin are leaning against the cab of Sehun's car and laugh at him as he and Yixing sleep peacefully in the backseat. Chanyeol and his girlfriend are paused on the landing below making out, a tape gun in each of their hands. Another car catches a break in the flow of traffic and pulls into one of the guest spaces. Minseok and Bookworm step out and yawn, tying sweatshirts around their waists.

Jongdae repeats his question. Or at least he tries to, but emotion catches his throat and all he can do is stare at you with a mix of surprise and what he's sure is a very naked expression of affection.

'How did you do this?' he asks when he can finally breathe again.

You tilt your head and grin at him, pride making you radiant even in the dull mist of the morning. 'Is this okay?' For a moment you look worried, tucking your hands in the pockets of your overalls and taking a step back.

'I know I said I'd hire the movers, but I thought this might be better? I didn't think everyone would be here, especially after the Halloween party last night. Soo and Sunshine are working, but I think - wait,' you turn and yell down to the group in the lot. 'Has anyone heard from Baek and Hitch?'

Chanyeol reluctantly pulls away from his girlfriend and replies. 'Yeah, he messaged me at the ass-crack of dawn. He said he and Hitch are fine, but they won't be able to make it until later.'

With a curious look you thank Chanyeol and turn back to Jongdae. 'Okay, so almost everyone came.'

'It's because you're incredible,' he agrees, heart warm and in awe of you. Stepping back, he shoves the door stop in with his foot to prop it open and gestures for you to come in.

He doesn't get two steps before your hand finds his bicep, stopping him. 'No, I'm just absolutely amazing at organizing things,' you laugh. ‘But they didn't just come for me Jongdae, they came because they're your friends. They wanted to help.'

The intensity in your voice makes him pause. Like you're trying to say far more than your words. He gets lost for a moment in your beautiful eyes and swallows harshly. His past, the negative parts, haven't come up much - his failed first business, the trail of broken friendships he's left behind him, the ensuing guard he's had up since - but you've paid far more attention than he realized.

He doesn't miss the meaning behind your words, or the look in your eyes; what you're asking of him. To trust you, to trust them. To release his death grip on the walls he keeps up to protect himself. But no matter how determined you are he knows he has to be the one to dismantle them. His heart is nervous and he instead focuses on your hand on his arm.

For a beat he wants to kiss you, then and there with almost all of his and your friends just outside. Instead he lets his actions speak when his mouth isn't able to and pulls you into a hug. You freeze for a moment, stiff with surprise. But after a moment it melts away and you hold him back, wrapping your arms around his waist. His head spins when you rest your forehead against his shoulder, unable to process the fact that you’re in his arms in reality, not just his dreams.

'You're the most amazing person,' he murmurs against your hair.

The sound of loud voices and thumping of boots on stairs make him pull back. You give him another smile, warmer and softer this time. Something that's private for him only. 'I know.'

He barks out a laugh as Sehun and Jongin come in through the doorway. 'Let's do this!' Sehun calls, clapping his hands together.

'We promise we won't steal anything,' Jongin jokes, looking around Jongdae's place with obvious fascination.

Bijoux organizes the packing party while Chanyeol grabs Jongdae's keys so he and Sehun can take the first load of boxes over to the new place while Junmyeon, Jongin, and Jongdae load up the bigger furniture pieces into the Uhaul. Jongdae lets out a rusty laugh as Junmyeon dubs them ‘the J squad.’ You work around them, collecting all the random trinkets and knicknacks that have escaped other boxes.

He closed Chen’s today to hopefully knock this entire project out in one swoop. Ripping it off like a Bandaid. After the first big load everyone splits up into teams. Sehun and Yixing pack and load the rest of the boxes and smaller items into the cars. Jongin, who is absolutely not trusted around breakable items, goes with Junmyeon to return the Uhaul to the rental shop and pick up lunch and drinks for everyone with the cash Jongdae insisted they take. 

And Minseok leads everyone else on a cleaning checklist he’s created with military precision. It's been so long Jongdae doesn't even know if he has a damage deposit. His grandfather took excellent care of the place and he kept it up in his absence, so he hopes it's not too much work to tidy.

Yixing’s boombox keeps up a steady flow of music throughout the morning and lunch time. With everyone’s help, and of course with the added fuel from the pizza and beverages, things are just wrapping up at the old place. You stay behind with Jongdae to take a last look around and turn in the keys, forcing him to take a few photos in the space to remember it.

‘This is it, I guess,’ he says, holding out the key and laying it on the kitchen counter with a small metallic sound.

‘How do you feel?’ You lean your hip against the fridge and drink from a water bottle.

Sunset over Lake Union is his favorite time of day and it’s hard to stand the thought of missing out on a last one. It’s barely two in the afternoon and it’s hours until golden hour. Rather than lie he simply says the truth. ‘I wish I could see the sun go down one last time.’

You come and stand next to him, close enough he can smell the light scent of your perfume and see the flush of your chest from the day’s exertion. ‘We can wait.’

He thinks of everyone at his new place, unloading boxes. ‘But everyone-’

‘Jongdae,’ you start. ‘They’ll be fine. You know Sehun has probably fallen asleep on your couch already. Baek and Hitch and the openers from Barada will be heading over soon. Some people have to head out for closing shifts but it’s already been decided that we’re doing movie night and Chinese take out tonight at your new place.’

‘Oh really?’ He presses his lips together to try not to laugh.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice,’ you tease. ‘Trust me, they’ll be fine for another few hours.’

‘Alright then,’ he says after a pause.

The two of you sit on the bare hardwood floors and talk until the sun finally sets, just before five pm. He doesn’t yell his feelings for you at full volume like he wishes he could. He doesn’t dance with you or kiss you slowly in the empty apartment, there’s far too many emotions in his heart today to try and cope with more. But after he locks up and leaves the keys behind he does take your hand to help you into the car. And he does hold it for far longer than necessary before pulling back to shut the door. 

It’s not much, but like his new apartment it’s the start of something.

November 3rd, 1997

You’ve got to tell Jongdae now, but nerves eat away at you and your resolve lessens minute by minute. Since the move he’s been warmer, more open, and you don’t want to ruin that. But you can’t keep this from him any longer.

Applying at Microsoft was supposed to be a long shot, a shot in the dark, or some other kind of shot that never meant to lead anywhere. But still it’s one you took and one that ended up paying off way faster and more successfully than you’d planned. After two interviews last week you sit with a job offer on your answering machine back home and a choice to make.

They need your decision by tomorrow and as Monday winds into early afternoon your deadline approaches. You bite your lip and vacillate wildly between thoughts. On the one hand this could be a good thing - if you’re no longer working at the same place, there’s nothing stopping the two of you from being together, right?

But what if Jongdae can’t see past his hurt and freaks out, assuming you’re leaving him like everyone else has? Or worse, what if he never cared about you that way at all?

Your stomach drops at the thought of walking out of here into your dream job, but feeling empty, leaving behind someone who has come to mean so much to you.

Your roommates Liz and Jane, Hitch, hell even Baekhyun weaseled the truth out of you at Shari’s on Saturday. Stone cold sober and still you let out everything to him sitting in your group’s favorite booth. About how you might in fact love Jongdae and how badly you want this opportunity, how utterly terrifying and exhilarating change can be simultaneously.

None of them told you to choose one way or the other. They didn’t say ‘take the job’ or ‘turn down the job,’ they all said that the decision is one only you can make and that they’d support you no matter what you picked. And maybe each time you cried a little and all of them were good enough friends to just hug you and not mention it.

But all of them told you one thing that now sits lodged in your throat. Whatever else happens, you both deserve to know. Jongdae deserves the truth about what you’re considering, and you deserve to finally know once and for all how he feels about you and what he wants.

After he locks the doors and starts cleaning up, you rise, holding your hands behind your back so tightly your knuckles are most assuredly white. ‘Hey, can we talk for a minute?’

Jongdae nods. ‘Of course. I’ve got something I wanted to discuss with you as well, actually. But you go first.’ He folds his arms and leans against his desk, giving you that affectionate close-lipped smile of his. You desperately hope what you’re about to say doesn’t wipe it off his face.

Not one to beat around the bush you dive in. ‘I applied for another job.’ The words sound blunt and harsh. You swallow and try again, hating how his brow furrows in confusion. ‘Not because I don’t like it here. But Hitch told me about an opening and it sounded - sounds perfect for what I want to do in the long run. It’s on the new gaming system division… at Microsoft.’

He doesn’t say anything for a long pause. Instead of meeting your eyes his have dropped to the ground and you wish you could reach out and touch him. Anything to make sure he hears you, understands you. But a whisper of fear makes you keep quiet, worrying the connection you had wasn’t meant to last, if something so trivial could break it.

‘I thought you were happy here,’ he says finally.

You hold your hands out in front of you, palms up in a gesture of entreaty. ‘I do, Jongdae. It’s not that at all. I thought this might - be good for us. If we’re not working together, then -’

When he finally looks up his gaze is distant, his mouth a thin line. The shutters have fallen over his face. ‘By going to work at the one place I despise?’

Anger makes your skin hot and you fold your arms as well, in defiance. ‘But you talk to Hitch and Baekhyun? They haven’t turned into the devil incarnate yet.’

He gives a quick, harsh shrug. ‘I like them both, sure. But being friends is one thing. This is quite another.’

It’s almost a declaration, yet so far from how you dreamed this moment might go. ‘What are you saying, Jongdae?’ You need to hear it. After so many weeks of trying you need him to at least do you the courtesy of speaking it out loud.

‘You know how I feel about you.’ There’s hope in his eyes. But it’s so buried amongst hurt and suspicion it’s not even close to reassuring. ‘I want you to stay. Here.’ With me, he doesn’t say, but you feel it.

Nothing drives you more up the wall than being told what to do. His words fall against your own shield and the plea within goes unnoticed. ‘Would you really shut me off if I took this job? Does hating them mean more than wanting what’s best for me?’ You finally step forward, reaching a hand for his arm.

‘I’ve supported you in everything,’ you start, unable to stop now that you’ve started. ‘In finding community here. In your move. Even in the business, who was the one who pushed you to keep growing? I don’t intend to stop being there for you, but I need you to support me in this. Please.’

He just watches you, not saying a word. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence. People outside the glass doors go about their day, shopping or getting an early dinner, unaware of the standoff taking place merely feet from them. You wonder what it would take to make his guard truly ever come down.

With how quickly it snapped back into place you feel tired all the way down to your bones. Maybe it will never be enough, even if you did stay here forever.

‘I’ll pay out your PTO in these next two weeks,’ he says softly. ‘No need to come back into the office. If that works for you?’ His last statement is thrown on as a hasty addendum. Like he’d realized how harsh it sounded and he wanted to dull the sting. It’s a sliver of kindness, a glimpse at the man he almost allowed himself to be. But it’s not enough.

‘Fine with me.’ You move past him, into the supply room to grab your purse and jacket, proud of the way your voice doesn’t waver. Pausing in the hallway you turn to look back at him, still frozen against his desk. ‘I’m leaving this job, I’m not leaving you.’

He turns to look at you, running a hand through his hair and messing up the ends. ‘It will go the same way, I know it. In the end you’ll disappear too.’

‘Jongdae, I’m trying. I need you to at least meet me halfway.’

You don’t wait for his reply, if one was ever even going to come. Instead you continue down the small hallway and push out the back door into the mall. It’s only once you’re in your car that you remember he mentioned something he wanted to discuss. You wonder what it was, and if you’ll ever find out.

Jongdae stares after you for long seconds after you’re gone. He doesn’t hold out hope that you’ll come back, not after the way he treated you. Instead he feels stuck in place, like if he holds his breath and doesn’t exhale then the last five minutes didn’t happen.

But his lungs burn and his chest aches, and when he finally sighs it comes out ragged. He fumbles for the switch and the store descends into darkness. Shafts of light still come through, angled in from the glass ceiling of the mall’s concourse. Jongdae stands just outside of it, protected. With no one to see he sinks into his desk chair and drops his head into his hands.

The tears that clog his throat are at first unexpected, but as the minutes drag on he finally gives into them. He should have known they were coming all along. Not just from the moment you walked into his life, but from the day his grandfather died. From the day his father passed and his mother became a ghost rather than a permanent, tangible figure. 

From the day Julian took Jongdae’s designs and credited them as his own to the investors, cutting Jongdae out of not only the business they were building, but out of their group of friends as well.

Misery and hopelessness whisper against his skin and for long minutes he lets himself wallow. He knows it’s no one’s fault but his own that he ruined things with you. His grandfather taught him long ago that other’s actions are theirs, and that it’s what Jongdae does in response that is his responsibility. But he can’t deny that he indulges in thoughts of blaming the cruelty of life for making him so goddamn stubborn.

He swallows and leans back in his chair, feeling as though his body is made of hard, unyielding stone. Maybe it's better this way, he wonders, drumming his fingers on the wood desk before him. Perhaps he should let his worst fears dominate his life, believing that the risk is far greater than any potential reward that love or friendship could offer him.

Is it better to be alone, knowing that he’ll always be safe, free of anyone who might hurt him?

Jongdae groans. The voice inside him that whispers No sounds first like his grandfather, both encouraging and feisty at the thought of Jongdae giving up. Next it sounds like you. He knows you’d roll your eyes and call him grouchy, always thinking better of him than he does of himself. You’d tell him his bark is far worse than his bite and to get over himself already. At this thought, at any thought of you, really, he smiles.

Familiar voices make him look out into the mall. Sehun and Jongin walk by carrying sodas, rubbing their stomachs. He can imagine how they’re complaining about eating too much Barada pizza, as always. 

They pass by quickly but the image stays with him, of their friendship. Jongdae thinks of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s, how opposite and yet how similar they are. Baekhyun and Hitch, who are always teasing each other but who he knows would do anything at the drop of a hat.

He’s held himself back the past few months. First a reluctant observer. Then a tentative participant. The endless exhaustion of being careful, keeping his distance, catches up to Jongdae as he sits in that chair. If it weren’t for you maybe he’d never be brave enough to try again after how hard it was growing up. But if he is to be the kind of person, the kind of partner you deserve, now is the time to make the attempt.

It’s up to Jongdae to be the one to try, to reach out. He can’t let others find him anymore. For the first time in a long time Jongdae stands up and goes looking for a friend.

Junmyeon still has an hour before his store closes and he looks up at Jongdae as he walks in through the door of Guardians. ‘Hey, JD! How’s it going?’ If he notices that Jongdae’s been crying, he’s kind enough to not mention it.

‘Are you busy?’ Jongdae’s throat is raw but Jun has a young son, surely tears won’t bother him.

‘Not really, I’m just organizing some shipments going out tomorrow,’ Junmyeon answers. He sets down his pencil and rests his hands on the counter. A crease forms between his brows the longer he watches Jongdae. ‘Is everything alright?’

He wants to do this right, but all he can find are inelegant words. Junmyeon is as close as he has to a best friend at the moment, and he hopes he doesn’t inconvenience him. ‘Not really.’

Jun tilts his head and gestures to the door, picking up Jongdae’s unspoken request and running with it, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘I can close up shop a bit early. Want to talk in my office?’

Jongdae runs a hand over his face and nods. Grateful and relieved he manages a small laugh. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

After Jun locks the doors and flips the sign to closed he motions for Jongdae to follow him. The back room of Guardians is much warmer that at Chen’s Electronics, in style rather than temperature. Jongdae sits on a beige sofa that’s even more comfortable than it looks. The walls are filled with framed photos and art prints and various other pieces that give the space an art gallery vibe.

With a sigh Junmyeon tidies up the mess of papers and crayons and various cups with kid lids. ‘Sorry, Sungmin loves to draw but we haven’t quite nailed the clean up yet.’

‘Don’t worry about it on my behalf,’ Jongdae says sincerely. ‘I’m just grateful you’re willing to listen.’

The space has a narrow hallway leading to a back door and a closet that’s probably full of supplies, much like Jongdae’s store. Jun takes the cups to a small sink in the mini-kitchen in the corner. His brow lifts in confusion. ‘Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, right?’

Could it be that simple? No need to prove himself or do everything possible to impress Junmyeon, like he did with Julian. ‘Yeah, we are I suppose.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to imply I don’t consider us friends, I just - well, have a few trust issues when it comes to that sort of thing.’

Junmyeon dries his hands on a dishtowel and blows his hair off his forehead with a huffed laugh. ‘We’ve all got a few issues, don’t we?’ He moves to the table and takes a seat, sliding a glass of water towards Jongdae and sipping from one of his own. ‘I’ve got the time. So quit stalling and tell me about yours.’

He sags into the couch and drinks from the glass. ‘Alright then.’

For once he doesn’t second guess himself or try to read the minutiae of Jun’s expressions to see if he’s annoying him or being too boring. Jongdae simply tells him the truth, trusting his friend to listen. 

He mentions his family and how hard it hit him when his grandfather passed. How strange and yet unbothered he is by the lack of relationship with his mother. The way he was teased growing up and how he was probably the only person in his Master’s program going through puberty. The fact that the mall is the first place he’s ever had friends his own age since childhood.

It’s satisfying to see how pissed off Jun gets when he tells him about Julian and all the bullshit he put Jongdae through. For a while there Jongdae had convinced himself that he was the one in the wrong, that there’d been something he’d done to earn his exile. That it was a deserved punishment. But his friend’s muttered curses remind him that true friends don’t normally backstab each other for money and notoriety.

And finally, he talks of you.

How much he values you at work and how sassy and insistent you were about bringing him into ‘the fold’ of their friend group. The ways in which he wants to be with you and care for you and all his worries of whether or not he’ll be any good at it, given his lack of experience. Junmyeon is neither surprised by his feelings for you nor willing to let him wallow.

‘I even brought prom tickets,’ Jongdae finishes with a groan. He pulls them from the pocket of his jeans and lets his arm fall to the couch cushion. ‘Me. At a prom.’ He almost snorts.

But Junmyeon just purses his lips. ‘Is that really such a stretch?’

Jongdae hums a noise of contemplation. ‘No. I guess not. All our friends are doing it.’ But before Jun can continue he shakes his head. ‘But I’ve messed this all up, so it doesn’t matter either way.’

Loneliness aches in his bones, his hands tired of not holding yours. Wishing he was enough, somehow, to keep you here and keep you warm; enough to make you stay, to make you happy.

Junmyeon raises a brow. ‘I think you’re missing the point entirely my friend. She told you what she needs. All you have to do is listen. She’s asking you to trust her. This job is something she’s worked for and she’s not leaving you for it. She’s just leaving the job. If you want to know you have to ask.’

He sighs deeply. ‘You’re right. But what if it all goes wrong? What if I try and it’s all for nothing in the end?’

Jun dips his chin to his chest, looking at the ground lost in thought. ‘That’s fair. I know a little of that myself, Jongdae. But all you can do is try. There’s sadly no guarantees here. I think you want to make it work and from what I know of her, she wants you as well. It’s time to make the big gesture. Or any kind of gesture, really.’

He groans and smiles, knowing his friend’s fondness for ‘I think you’re right.’ He even has an idea, two in fact. One that’s lived in the back of his mind for weeks and one that’s brewing right now. ‘Will you help me?’

‘Absolutely my friend.’ Jun claps him on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

November 19th, 1997

It should have been wonderful news to you that it was a clean break at least. No mess, just walking out the door and leaving behind the man and the job in one fell swoop. But of course, it wasn’t.

Microsoft was delighted when you told them you could start ASAP, but honestly you did it to jump into work rather than spend your time missing Jongdae. Filling your schedule proves to be the easiest way to avoid thinking about what hurts. You still had your roommates and Hitch and everyone else to hang out with, even if you weren’t ready for any Saturday pizza lunches or Shari’s nights quite yet. Both brought you far too close to him to bear right now.

Liz and Jane and Hitch are wonderful and you’ve had not one but two sleepovers since ‘the Jongdae incident.’ If not for their friendship and constant presence you’re sure you would have walled up the hurt and hid it away, not one to normally speak about your pain openly. Not while it’s so fresh. 

Distantly you hope that Jongdae is okay and that he has someone to talk to. If he’s even hurting. 

For all you know he’s completely fine and unaffected by the entire thing. Maybe he’s already found a new office manager and has forgotten about you. But those are the kind of rude and painful thoughts that only come to you at three in the morning when you can’t sleep, when dreams of his hands and his voice and his smile keep you up.

Jongdae calls one Tuesday to ask you to swing by Chen’s to pick something up the next day and you’re suspicious. He wouldn’t say any more, just ‘please come by at six. I have something to give you and I’d like it to be in person.’

You put on your favorite black dress and blazer that make you feel both sexy and confident and head to the mall. If he’s just calling you to twist the knife in deeper, you’ve already decided to leave and not bother letting him hurt you more. But if he’s calling to reconcile… you shake your head, not willing to get your hopes up. Instead you park in your old space and fix your make up in the rearview mirror.

It delights you to see that your old desk is returned to its former state. Just the computer, keyboard, and mouse remain. No one’s personal possessions have taken over the space like yours used to. It shouldn’t make you so happy to see he hasn’t replaced you, but it does.

Jongdae sits at his desk. His hair is in its usual perfect wave but his white button down and slacks have been swapped today for a dark green sweater and tan chinos. He looks ridiculously handsome and you grit your teeth, wishing you could turn off your attraction to him with a switch inside your brain.

He looks up at your knock on the glass door. For a moment he simply stands, drinking you in. Then he moves, walking closer to unlock the door and let you in. 

‘Hi. How are you?’

You blink and try not to laugh. ‘How am I? Jongdae, how do you think I am?’

‘Right, sorry.’ He shakes his head. Carefully he looks you up and down, not bothering to hide his own attraction to you in his hungry gaze. With a swallow he remembers himself and grabs a cardboard banker’s box from in front of his desk. ‘Here. I didn’t want to come by and drop it off. It felt wrong.’

The box holds all the random photos and personal belongings you’d left in your desk, in your haste to leave. Postcards from Amsterdam and family photos and lotions and your favorite scarf you’d been missing. He steps back, resting against the corner of his desk and folding his arms. When you take it he doesn’t say anything, which is not what you’d hoped by any means, but silence is definitely less painful than you’d feared.

‘Well, it’s been an adventure,’ you manage. You lean against your desk and move the box under one arm, holding out a hand to him to shake. Ready to be done with this officially.

He doesn’t move. You can feel words held on the tip of his tongue. Months and months later you know how to read his tells. The tightness in his jaw and the widening of his eyes and how his hand grips the fabric of his sweater. But seconds tick on and still he says nothing. 

He should speak or you should leave. One of you should do something. Instead you’re frozen in time. Eventually your arm aches and you set the box down beside you. You could go first, but pride demands he be the one to confess, if there’s going to be any confessions tonight.

Neither of you caves; twin pillars of resolution, stubbornness, and desire. It’s a game the two of you could play for hours. The tension in the air pulls tighter than a violin. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, unabashedly. His lids grow heavy as he breathes deeply, close enough to smell your gardenia perfume, but just out of reach of being able to touch you.

So this is what it feels like to meet my match, you think, finally acknowledging just how deeply you want him. Enough nights had been spent imagining kissing him, being with him in far more intimate ways than just a holding of hands or a hug. You want more, but only if he wants you, too.

You'd always been told that you were too driven, too smart, too self-sufficient to attract a man. Even in your MBA program where ambition and intelligence were supposedly rewarded, it apparently made you too something to find a good man to date.

But now there’s one right in front of you, looking at you as if you’re the answer to Fermat’s Enigma; a rare and priceless gem he’d been hunting for all his life. But he doesn’t look at you as if you’re art to be admired, a prize to be won. The guard lifts steadily and when he looks at you now it’s as if you’re the kind of miracle he wants to sink his teeth, his tongue, and his fingers into.

Your cheeks grow warm and you’re sure you look just as amazed and turned on as he does. If you had to guess, you’d bet that the number of people who challenge him these days are few, and the number of people who attempt to see the man behind the curtain even fewer.

While everyone else in the world might just see a monolith of a man, a genius, a hardworking and brilliant anomaly, you see the passionate, warm heart that beats in his chest. You know that the tin man really does have feelings and needs, and your heart almost breaks when you realize he’s been searching for you just as fervently as you’ve been searching for someone like him.

The silence in the room is almost too fragile a thing to break. On one side of the moment is a spark of something, a chance to see if this connection is real and deep, or if this is just chemistry and biology combining into lust. If your mind has taken the small gestures of passion and kindness and friendship from him and built it up to be something more than the sum of its parts.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathes, voice catching in his throat. Releasing his folded arms he rests his palms on the edges of the desk.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ you admit. Your hands curl in on themselves, trying to fight the way emotion and physical longing make it difficult to be in such a close proximity to him.

‘Okay, then.’ He breaks first, moving with purpose and striding to you in two steps, sliding his hands along your jaw with such softness that you gasp. 

And then, finally, you feel his lips on yours. You grasp his hips, hands freed and aching to touch him, to feel his hard body press against yours with surprising heat.

You meet him with equal passion, working your lips against his steady assault on your composure. For a solid minute you’re in awe that you could feel this much, that his lips and his hands could undo you so rapidly. That they could rebuild you into someone who belongs to him in such a short space of time, after weeks of endless doubt.

He groans against your lips in what feels like similar shock and surrender. Who would have thought that he would cave to your touch just as you did to his? How could someone so grumpy and strong-willed also be so open and vulnerable to this tentative thing between you.

But as he drops a hand and brings it to rest securely on the small of your back you realize there’s a name for this feeling.

You could call it fate. You could call it destiny. You could call it that damned four-letter word or you could call it Darwinism for all you care as his teeth bite gently into your lower lip.

You just know that nothing has ever felt as good and right as his hands claiming you for his own and the smell and heat of him wrapping themselves around you and burrowing their way into your heart.

A whine works its way from your throat as he licks along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. When you open your mouth to him, his tongue slides along your own and you almost lose your balance. With a giggle you could swear you’ve never made before in your life you let him guide you up onto the desk.

He steps between your legs instantly, gripping your hips and continuing his tasting of you. Heat and electricity race down your spine as you fist your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you until there’s no separation.

Banging on the glass doors and whistles come from out in the mall and you freeze. Instead of jerking back in shock and alarm like you’d expect him to, Jongdae confounds you once again. He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes and lifting his hands to gently cup your face. It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but in less than the time it takes to watch one episode of Friends he’s turned your world on its axis.

You and Jongdae smile at each other and both turn to wave at your group of friends, who are celebrating and clapping. Baekhyun eats from an enormous bag of popcorn, wearing his theater uniform. Jongin and Sehun take large handfuls and Hitch whoops with joy. Liz and Jane and Junmyeon are all smiling, and attempt to force some of the group away to give you privacy.

Jongdae’s hands flex on your waist. ‘I want to try. You’re everything I want, will you please give me the chance to be what you need?’ His voice is raspy and his lips are red and you can’t help but grin.

‘I just want you, okay?’ You fix his messed up hair with both hands and sigh with relief. ‘And for you to admit you like me.’

‘I far more than like you.’ Jongdae rolls his eyes and kisses you once more. ‘You just want me to say you’re right.’

With a laugh you ease yourself off your desk, standing close within his arms and bending to whisper in his ear. ‘I’m always right. I just love when you admit it.’

‘So,’ he starts with an amused quirk of an eyebrow. ‘Will you let me take you to dinner? Us, officially, on a date.’

Your chest feels as if it’s a balloon, expanding so rapidly it might burst. He looks so young and boyish and hopeful your heart feels like it turns to liquid gold. With a delighted grin you lean forward and press your lips to his again, unable to resist.

Joy swims in his irises as he holds you in his arms. He looks at you through his lashes, his lips tilting into lopsided smile. ‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘Yes,’ you answer. ‘Of course.’

‘How’s right now for you?’ He motions to the doors and your friends have finally been corralled to the side of the walkway, revealing an elaborately decorated table in the food court.

You gasp and grip his arm. Jun and Sehun hold the doors open and Jongdae escorts you out. A red tablecloth is spread out over the circular table. The chairs have added plush cushions and several candles have been lit. A bottle of wine and two glasses rest beside several plates of food. You recognize the pizza from Barada, the rest looks like a mix from the other restaurants in the food court. 

With high fives and hugs from your friends they finally leave you and Jongdae alone. Well, almost alone. It’s not a busy time at the mall, but there’s no way to avoid some of the customers turning to watch with amusement and curiosity as they pass by. You pay them no mind as Jongdae holds out your chair and helps you sit. 

The two of you fall back into conversation easy enough, aided by the enormous amount of food and how you no longer have to move your knees away when they bump under the table. Jongdae reaches for your hand and holds it, in full view. He stares at the joined digits with warmth before looking up at you. 

Doubt passes across his face, marring the beauty that contentment lends his features. ‘I don’t -’ he struggles. ‘I don’t know how to keep this much good in my life. I worry that I’m going to mess it up.’

Neither of you are the type to openly acknowledge such things. Merely the fact that he’s voicing his fears to you shows you he’s doing what he said - he’s trying, he wants to change. And truthfully so do you. 

‘I worried for the longest time that I’d be alone forever,’ you say softly. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who understood me or who could handle all my - well, you know how I am.’ 

Jongdae smiles then, lifting your joined hands to his lips to press a kiss to your skin. ‘I love who you are.’ 

Your eyes mist at that and you groan, trying to blink them back. ‘Good, because I love who you are too.’ With your free hand you reach for his, needing to hold both of them and all of him at once. Not wanting to give his overly-analytical mind a chance to override the fragile hope you’re both building tonight. ‘You know what to do when a computer overloads?’

He nods. ‘Of course. Often it’s just a simple matter of turning it off and on again.’

‘So,’ you say, lifting your shoulder in a shrug. ‘When we mess up or freak out or say the wrong thing, we’ll just start over again. As long as you want me and I want you, we’ll figure it out.’ 

Jongdae softens, his shoulders dropping and ease coming back into his eyes. ‘I didn’t know I was lagging until you jump started my life.’ He waggles his brows. It’s a gesture that’s all Baekhyun, and a pun so terrible that Junmyeon would be proud. You can’t help but laugh and squeeze his hands. 

‘I’ve got one more surprise,’ Jongdae says, reluctantly releasing one of your hands to pull two narrow slips of paper from his pocket. ‘Do you have any plans for Christmas?’ 

The tickets are in both your names. First class round trip from Seattle to Amsterdam. ‘Oh my - Jongdae, what is this? You and me in Amsterdam?’ 

‘I figured it was about time,’ he says with pride. 

You lean out of your chair and reach for him, tugging him closer to kiss him fully. Noise reaches you - clapping and cheering from the shops around the mall. When you look around you see Sehun and his girlfriend leaning out of Starlight Apparel. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo smiling and fist bumping as they work on closing up the shop. 

Hitch nudges Baekhyun from the theater booth and he jumps in excitement. And from Guardians Junmyeon leans on the counter, resting his chin in his hand, giving a thumbs up. 

You roll your eyes and wave. ‘We maybe should have gone somewhere outside the mall, huh?’

'No, I think this is perfect,’ Jongdae answers. He then covers your mouth with his and holds you so tight that it drowns out the chorus of cheering that echos around the space. 

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 15

It’s Monday and as promised the new chapter of the adventures of east station is here. This one is angsty. Our Aelin is dealing with the aftermath of her nearly death at the airport fire. She tries to be brave but fails.

Oh, yeah, Dorian is a cinnamon roll.

CW: PTSD, panic attacks and language.

The gif as a header is silly. it was just to lighten the mood before the chapter. it was desk job and fire and the scene in the IT CROWD where Moss deals with a fire on his desk is hilarious.

Hope you will enjoy.

------------------------

The following morning Aelin was, for once, the first one to wake up and she felt giddy. The doctors had given her the all clear to go back to work. It was desk for duty only and had recommended to take it easy for the first week back. She was excited at the idea of wearing her uniform once more and be back with the rest of her squad. She had missed them all. Their banter, their company.

She looked at Rowan still asleep and giggled. It was so unusual for her to wake up before him. Had it been his day off, she would have let him sleep but he had to go to work as well so she had decided to wake him up in a special way. She got off the bed, walked to his side, then took a step backward and finally jumped and landed on him.

“What the heck?” he roared, grabbed her and turned in a very swift motion caging her in between his arms with his body towering on her.

“I am your new alarm clock,” she smiled looking up at him.

“Worst alarm ever.” His legs trapped hers as well so that Aelin was fully blocked under him.

“What if I was am naked? Still a bad alarm?”

His hands sneaked down her body and Aelin was getting ready for them to make her a happy and satisfied woman, but they stilled and a moment later he started tickling her.

She whimpered and tried to wiggle free from his grasp but Rowan was relentless and she was now screaming for him to stop and shaking her head wildly, blond hair flowing everywhere.

“Rowan, please.” She shouted when she reached a point in which she could not take it anymore.

He finally stopped, realising he had punished her enough but never moved away from her.

“Enjoying the view, captain?” She mused at his strange expression.

“You are stunning,” he whispered dropping a kiss on her lips “you have no idea, but when you smile you can seriously give a man a heart attack.” His voice now gruff with lust.

She looked down at his strained briefs and grinned “not just that apparently.”

Aelin pulled up on her elbows and begged for a kiss “we can have some morning fun in bed, or we can use the shower and save some time.”

A second later she was airborne and Rowan was carrying her to the bathroom “I love the way you think, captain.”

The shower took much, much longer than they had planned. Both of them were now running around the bedroom grabbing pieces of clothing to get ready to go to work.

“Totally worth it.” She told him while pulling up her jeans.

He leaned over while tying his tie and kissed her “so, so worth it.”

“How do you feel?”

“Giddy, to be honest.” She confessed ignoring the pang of nervousness that she had been feeling since the day before. She wanted to go back, but deep down a part of her was panicking at the idea, but she had not mentioned that to Rowan. He would fuss unnecessarily and she was done staying at home and be a patient.

She took a deep breath and wore her hoodie.

“Are you going to finish as normal tonight?” Rowan turned to her, while wearing his jacket.

“Yes, I will be doing a normal nine till five for now. Aedion knows. A part from paperwork I am useless.”

He heard the pang of sadness in her voice and walked to her to hug her “you will go back. You just need to be patient, Fireheart.”

She sighed and her arms went around his waist to steady her “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No,” replied Aelin shaking her head “no, I will be fine,” but from the tone Rowan knew she was not. Something was nagging at her and he feared she was putting a mask on. He sighed and blamed it on his crazy need to fuss about her.

Together they left the house and he accompanied to her car. And that alarm bell rang again in his head when he noticed the smallest hesitation in her.

“Text me, call me if you need anything.” He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands “I love you, captain.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t?” She gave him a tight smile and kissed him back “I will see you tonight.”

*

Aelin had been driving for a good ten minutes when she pulled over and got out of the car and on the pavement very quickly, feeling sick. Leaning against the car door, she felt her heart racing madly in her chest and she felt like she could not breathe.

“Are you okay, miss?” Asked a passerby noting her distress.

“I am okay.” She managed breathlessly “thank you.” 

Slowly she moved back in the car and sat back at the wheel but did not move. Just closed her eyes and waited for the queasiness to pass. One long deep breath after the other and she started regaining a bit of sanity and eventually started the car and drove to work.

She left her car along the pavement as usual then got out and took a step onto the apparatus floor. Both engine and truck and the ambulance were still there. She took another step then froze and noticed her hands shaking. What was wrong with her?

The yard was empty but she knew the crew was going to be on shift, they were probably all having breakfast together as they were used to do when they started a shift in the morning.

She looked at the trucks and almost fell sick again. A part of her wanted to turn around and run and she almost did it if it hadn’t been for Brullo’s cheery voice “cap,” he shouted, walked to her and crushed her in a bear hug.”You are back, we missed you so much.” He let her go and grabbed her hand “come on, we are all in the kitchen having breakfast. This is going to be an amazing surprise.” Aelin nodded and followed him. Her heart racing in her chest so much it hurt.

Once in the kitchen the noise that erupted as soon as she stepped in was deafening,

Everyone ran to her for a hug or to ask her questions, Ress gave her back her captain hard hat and she tried very hard to smile, to look happy while instead the emotions were too much for her to bear. She pulled away joking that she needed to breath and for some reason she had to fight tears from falling. 

“Hi guys.” She did her best to sound as steady as possible.

Aedion got to her side and ruffled her hair and her mind remembered that he was the one who found her almost dead in the inferno that had been the airport crash.

She felt sick again. This was all too much.

“I am back,” she said, giving them a tight smile her.

Aedion seemed to notice her distress and pulled her closer in a hug “finish your breakfast everyone, then you know your duties for the morning. It’s Aelin’s first day back. Let the woman breathe.”

Aelin kissed Aedion on the cheek “thank you, I missed you all, but that was a lot.”

“We have plenty of breakfast, would you like some?”

She nodded. She and Rowan had been too busy having fun that it had been too late for him to make breakfast, something he had complained about quite loudly. He was very strict with her meals and always made sure she ate. He had been incredible and since he had started living with her she had fallen for him even more. They had even stopped fighting. They bickered, but that was fun. She thought about him and in that instant she realised that his arms around her would be the only way to calm the panic rising in her. He grounded her.

Aedion passed her a plate with some breakfast and she took a bite, ignoring the protests of her stomach.

Once it was just the two of them Aedion finally took the courage to speak to her “are you okay?”

She knew she would struggle to lie to him “you know you can talk to me, right?”

Aelin stood “I have a lot to catch up to,” and walked away, ignoring Aedion completely.

Once in her office she slammed the door shut and walked to her desk. It was covered in mail and few notes from Aedion. He had been acting captain while she had been off. She turned on the pc and spent a good hour going through all her emails.

Marcus had sent her a few articles about the incident at the airport and had highlighted the parts about her. One of the articles had an aerial picture of the disaster and as she saw it, she stood and moved away from her desk. Her breath became laboured and dizziness and nausea came back. She went to the sofa and sat down, taking her head in her hands. In that instant she heard someone knocking at the door and stood quickly “come in,” she said trying to sound herself.

Lysandra’s head popped in “hi, you. Can I come in? Are you busy?”

Aelin motioned to join her on the sofa.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Terrifying. Aelin wanted to say “a bit overwhelmed, there is so much I have to catch up that I don’t know where to start so I am just sitting on the sofa and hope work will complete itself.” Good, let’s put her usual swagger on. 

“Aedion tried to keep everything as you left it and did as much as he could. He hated it. He kept saying that the place behind that desk was not his. We all missed you so much, but he is the one who missed you the most and not just because of the acting captain thing.”

“I missed you all as well.” At least she didn’t have to lie about that.

“How is it going with the captain? Is he still living at your place?”

Aelin nodded “yes, we are fine. We even stopped fighting. He is wonderful and he helped me a lot.”

Lysandra smiled “so you two are shacking up officially?”

“We haven’t discussed the matter, to be honest.”

“But you are happy with him.” Asked Lys tenderly, who was very happy to see her friend letting her fears aside.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Lysandra clapped her hands “don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “too early for that, don’t you think?”

Lys was about to reply but dispatch alarm went off calling for the ambulance “that’s my clue to go.”

The woman stood and disappeared through the door and Aelin sighed heavily then ran to the bathroom and was sick. She sat on the cold floor for a good ten minutes, her head against the stall’s wall. Then she heard voices, left the stall, washed her face and tried to act normal to avoid suspicion. 

“Hello, captain” Ansel’s cheery voice reached her.

“How are you doing?”

“Amazing. I am due to go and help Luca with training in a moment. The kiddo has his exam in two weeks.”

She felt a smile reach her lips “that is wonderful news.”

“The whole squad has been taking turns helping him with training. We are positive he will crush it. He got really good.”

“Good, just… look after him once out there.”

Ansel patted her shoulder “always. We always look after each other.” And the woman winked at her and walked away leaving Aelin alone once again.

Aelin splashed her face with cold water and walked back to her office determined to get some work done. 

She was in the middle of finishing some report when someone else knocked at the door and Dorian appeared “hi, you.”

Aedion had told her how broken he had been when they thought she was a goner. 

Her hands started trembling again but she hid them under the desk.

“Good morning, chief. I was not expecting you.”

“I just wanted to pop in and see how you were.”

“Your emails and reports are what’s gonna kill me.”

For a moment she noticed a flicker of pain flash in his eyes “just ignore them.”

Aelin shook her head “emails and reports are the reason I am at work today. That’s all I can do for the foreseeable future.”

“You know why.” He said softly.

“I know chief,” she said in a harsher tone than what she wanted “it doesn’t cancel the fact that at the moment I am useless as a firefighter and replying to emails and finalise million of reports is all I can do. Guess they don’t teach you that at the academy.”

He moved a step to her “Aelin, I know how you feel just now. I have been there myself and I hated every minute of it.”

Aelin sighed and calmed down. During his time as captain at west he got badly injured and after he got back to work he had been assigned on desk duty for three months. She was still a candidate at his station but remembered how miserable the man had been.

“How are you? Mentally. We do have support if you are struggling.”

Aelin run a hand through her hair. She knew. The counsellor had already been in touch with her. It was protocol for them to go through counselling and help in case of a traumatic incident.

“I am fine.”

“Aelin, you almost died.” He said through gritted teeth.

She stood “I know. I was there. The roof collapsed on me. I was the one who almost asphyxiated in that bloody inferno. I know.” She snarled at him.

“Have you spoken to the counsellor?”

“Not yet.”

Dorian sat down in front of her and Aelin was annoyed at the fact that he was going stay longer than she hoped.

“Aelin— ”

“Don’t” she stopped him “don’t use that patronising tone with me, chief. I know the rules. I will make an appointment with him.”

“So,” he continued, enjoying himself “how is it going with your captain?”

“Fine.” She replied, leaning back in her chair and twinning her hands under her chin.

He smirked “are you friends already?”

Aelin rolled her eyes “as if you don’t know that we are more than that.”

He raised his hands in a yielding gesture “just checking. You and Aedion did a good job with the airforce. I had Commodore Salvaterre singing the praises of the two of you.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open “Lorcan. That Lorcan actually praised us.”

Dorian nodded.

Aelin texted Rowan very quickly. His reply came back within seconds: are we talking about the same man?

She showed Dorian Rowan’s reply “see? Rowan can’t believe it either.”

“Well, he did.”

Aelin shrugged “fine, I’ll believe you.”

“Good,” he finally stood “I’ll leave you to your emails. Just please talk to the counsellor, okay?”

“Yes, chief.”

Dorian smiled at her and left and Aelin let out a very long breath. She was finally alone again and hoped no one would go in her office again. She loved them all, deeply and she missed them but she felt so out of sorts that even interacting with them was getting difficult.

The dispatch alarm went off again and this time it was for engine and truck. She stood and quickly went to where they were parked and from a corner looked at her team go away without her. Once they were gone she leaned against the wall and sobbed so hard that she ended up sitting on the floor for a moment. Then she stood and slowly walked away. She reached the room where they kept all their gear and walked in, finding it empty as the guys were on a call and her gear was the only one present.

With one hand she touched her new jacket. Her old one had been damaged in the fire. It smelled wrong. That was the first thing she noticed and it was pristine, with no marks, and she hated it. With her fingers she brushed the letters at the bottom saying captain Galathynius. She sat in a corner and hugged her legs to her chest and hid in the empty room for a while. Then all of a sudden she stood and ran back to her office, grabbed all of her belongings, switched off the computer and all the lights and ran back to her car.

Fifteen minutes later she was back home, very quickly she got to the closet she shared with Rowan, grabbed her blue duffel bag and started shoving clothes in it. Then grabbed a few other items from the room and ran outside back to her car.

A moment later she started driving north, not having an idea where she was going. She just aimed for the mountains. She needed to be away from everything. She had tried to be brave and go back to work, and ignored the truth in front of her. She was not ready. She had been stubborn and convinced herself and probably the doctors as well that she was, but the whole morning had been the proof that she had gone back too early. In reality she had been terrified since the moment she had left the house. The station had reminded her of what happened at the airport. Reminded that hers had almost been the next funeral. That the bell had almost rang for her.

Tears began flowing and eventually she had to pull over, the tears not allowing her to see the road properly. She was not okay and she felt lost. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt like she was going insane.

Eventually, Aelin went back to driving and remembered that Lys had once mentioned holiday cottages in the mountains. She pulled over again and took out her phone to search for the place. Once she got it she set her sat nav and went back to driving. She arrived half an hour later and was impressed by the location of the place. It was in the heart of the Staghorns mountains and it felt like the most peaceful place on Earth. Once she was better she definitely had to take Rowan there.

She parked the car at the guest car park and got inside the reception, got herself a cottage for a week and drove to her allocated house. It was perfect.

She parked the car, grabbed her bag from the trunk and walked in.

The cottage was all in wood and was gorgeous. She noticed the fireplace and flinched at the massive fire hazard. Her bag landed on the floor and she then curled on the bed. The next thing she did was to switch off her phone.

*

Aedion and the squad got back to the station over an hour later and the first sign he had that something was wrong was that all the lights were off. Aelin was supposed to be there. He jumped off the truck, gave some orders to the two teams and walked to Aelin’s office. Once in he noticed it was empty “Aelin?” He called.

“Why all the light were off?” Asked Lysandra joining him. 

“Aelin is not here.” He replied quietly.

“I thought she was staying until five.” Added the woman. 

Aedion kept walking around the station as if in search of a clue of her whereabouts. He went to check the captain’s private quarters but they were empty.

“No sign of her anywhere,” said Lysandra joining him again.

Aedion took out his phone and tried to call her. He looked at Lysandra and shook his head.

“What if something happened?” Lys whispered. They were keeping the news to themselves for now. Let the other think she had gone home early.

“Ae, she was not okay. I spoke to her and she pretended to be fine but I saw the mask. She was just putting her usual bravado for us.”

Aedion sighed heavily “I know. She avoided talking to me and Dorian told me the same thing. She is not well and the fact that she is gone worries me immensely.”

“You are her cousin, dammit, you should have pushed her.” Lysandra said through gritted teeth.

“You know better than me that it doesn’t work with her.”

Lysandra groaned in frustration “call the captain. Call him and see if she is there.”

Aedion pulled his phone out of his pocket once again and called Rowan.

“Hello  Lieutenant.”

“Captain…” he took a deep breath “I was wondering if Aelin is there at the base with you.”

“No, why would she? She told me she was going to work.” Rowan’s panic rose a notch.

“She was here this morning, but when we came back from a call, she was gone. I thought she came to see you.”

“Are you telling me that you have no idea of where she is?”

“Yes, captain.”

Rowan swore “I will be there in fifteen.” And he hang up.

Aedion looked at Lysandra “he was not happy.”

“Fuck.”

Rowan marched into the fire station not long after. Aedion directed him to a quiet area of the station and Lysandra followed. 

“Where is she?” Asked Rowan as soon as they were away from everyone. 

“We don’t know. She is not here, but she was when we left.” 

Rowan started pacing back and forth nervously “was she okay while she was here?”

Aedion shook his head “She didn’t tell me but I know she was not well. I tried to talk but I had no luck.”

Rowan leaned against the table, hands on the wooden surface “She is not. She has been suffering from nightmares and panic attacks. She is not sleeping well either.” He explained “I suggested plenty of times to talk to someone, you guys have counsellors, right?”

Aedion nodded.

“I told her to delay her return to work by a week. She was giddy this morning, but I could feel there was something wrong, it bugged me the whole morning.” He ran a hand through his hair “I should have told her to stay at home. I just believed her.”

Aedion placed a hand on his shoulder “She does that. She did the same after Sam died. She put up a wall and pretended she was fine. Fooled us all until she just broke down completely.”

“Well, I would like to avoid for her to break down this time if possible.” Rowan growled back. All the signs were there and like an idiot he had believed her. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe.

“Any idea of where she could have gone? Any friends anywhere else?”

Aedion shook his head.

Rowan grabbed his phone and tried to call her and desperation hit him when it did not connect “Aelin it’s me. Pleas call me when you hear this. I beg you. Where are you? Everyone is worried. I love you.”

“I’ll go home and see if she is there or if there are any clues of where she could have gone.”

“We are still on shift until tomorrow morning, keep me updated, please.” Said Aedion with a broken voice.

“I will. And you will let me know if you have any luck or think of any places she might be?”

“We will,” said Lysandra, grabbing Aedion’s arm.

Rowan nodded and disappeared.

Twenty minutes later he was at their place, but the house was empty. He walked around the house but it looked exactly like they had left it in the morning.

“Where are you?” He whispered.

He opened their closet and in an instant he noticed something missing: her blue duffel bag.

“Shit.” Some of her clothes had gone as well.

He grabbed his phone.

“Captain?”

“I think she is gone.” Rowan’s voice was filled with deep panic.

“I thought we established that.”

“No, Aedion. She left. Her duffel bag is missing and some of her clothes are gone too. She must have come home and packed because they were here this morning.”

“What do we do?”

Rowan sat on the bed, his head in his hand, while with the other he held the phone “I have no idea.” He felt useless and in utter fear.

“I think it’s bad. She did not flee after she lost Sam. She was broken but never left. Whatever it is, we need to find her soon.”

“How?” Roared Rowan “How the fuck am I supposed to find her if we don’t have any idea?”

“I don’t think we can until she wants to be found.”

Rowan wanted to scream. 

He was going insane.

***

It was four days later and Aelin was sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom sobbing loudly. She just had four days from hell. The nightmares had been relentless and she was now so scared of falling asleep that she had stopped sleeping altogether. She had started surviving on coffee but that had the horrible side effect of increasing her panic attacks. 

Slowly she tried to stand, she washed her face and made her way back in bed. The last panic attack had left her a wreck and she felt like she was losing her mind. 

Her stomach growled but she could not eat. She had bought some meals to heat up in the microwave, but she was struggling to keep food down.

She ignored the pangs of hunger and curled under the blankets, shaking like a leaf.

She woke up an hour later with a terrible scream leaving her lungs. She sat in bed and patted her body, realising she was not on fire. That was the recurring nightmare. Her body on fire, the flames engulfing her as the ceiling collapsed on her over and over again and the horrifying smell of her skin burning. And then the feeling of suffocation. She would always wake up gasping for air.

Slowly she calmed herself down and her breathing went back to normal. She was drenched in sweat so she stood and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

Once under the jets she let herself relax and think of happy memories. Of happier showers she had shared with Rowan. And then guilt hit her. She had left. She had just disappeared. No notes, nothing.

He must be going insane. It had been four days and she could picture him mad with grief.

She should have never left. She should have accepted his help. 

Gods, she missed him so much. The tears came back in force and leaned her head against the wall. She felt so, so lost.

Aelin sat down in the shower floor and pulled her legs to her chest and cried until she felt spent and exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Eventually she found the strength to leave the shower wear  clean clothes and sit back in bed. 

With trembling hands she grabbed her phone and switched it on. A barrage of notifications hit the device. She read all the texts from Rowan. There was no fury from him, just love and support and a plea to come back to him. Her chest felt tight in pain. She had let him down so much. How could she face him again? After all his support since she woke up in a hospital bed how could she flee from him instead of begging for his help? A help she clearly needed. She had lied to herself. She was fine, she had told herself over and over again. But she was not. Not even remotely close to it.

She listened to her voicemails from Rowan and Aedion and her cousin sounded far more furious than Rowan.

She started typing a message to Rowan but stopped and started a few times. What could she tell him? I am a mess, why bother with me? She shook her head and deleted the message again.

Then she had her answer.

I am sorry.

-----------

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[blu-joons]

The Moment They Realise They Love You ~ Super Junior Reaction

Leeteuk:

The light sound of you knocking on the door brought everyone’s eyes around to look at you. “Lunch,” you giggled, placing a bag of food down on the floor that the boys quickly crowded around, with the exception of Jeongsu who walked over to you, wrapping his arm around you.

“This must have cost you a fortune getting all of this,” he whispered, pecking against your cheek.

“Well, I know how hard you’ve all been working so I thought I’d stop by and just make sure you’re doing alright,” you replied, intertwining your hand in with his. “I know you skipped breakfast this morning because the kitchen was spotless too.”

His expression softened, surprised you’d even noticed such a thing. He kept his apartment incredibly clean anyway, but you usually woke and saw a few crumbs on the table that he hadn’t managed to clean up before leaving, but not today.

“Make sure you eat up,” you whispered, pressing your palm against his flushed cheeks. “If you’re not going to look after yourself, I’ll make sure I do.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” He blushed, resting into your touch.

Your shoulders shrugged, “I guess you must’ve just been pretty good in a past life,” you laughed, encouraging him to join the boys and eat.

“Thank you…I love you.”

Heechul:

His eyes fell immediately to where the light snores were coming from as he walked into the apartment, spotting you fast asleep on the sofa with a blanket barely draped over your body. “Jagi,” he whispered as he walked towards you, shaking you lightly as he glanced up at the clock.

“Heechul,” you whispered, reluctantly opening your eyes as you felt his hand press to your waist.

“Why didn’t you go to bed?” He chuckled, sitting down on the floor beside you. “I’m sorry that I was so late, I didn’t think it would go on for this long. I didn’t realise you were going to stay up and wait for me, no one’s ever done that for me before.”

It was the smallest of gestures but knowing that you were happy to waste the night and wait for him meant a huge deal to him. Coming home and seeing you curled up so delicately ignited a feeling that he’d never felt before.

“You’re adorable,” he whispered, brushing your messy hair out of your face. “Why don’t you let me get changed and then we can lay here tonight?”

“You’ve had a long day, you need to lay in bed,” you quickly remined him.

He looked back at you with a smile, “it doesn’t matter where I’m lying, I just want to be with the one that I love for a while.”

“T-the one that you love?”

Yesung:

The radio silence from Junghoon all day had you concerned, you waited and hoped for a reply or a call for him, but nothing ever came. As the sky got dark, you found yourself left with no other choice but showing up at his place until he finally opened the door. “Please, just go,” he whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you frowned, pushing your way into the house, noticing the tears in his eyes.

“You don’t deserve to see me like this,” he argued, following behind you as you pulled him down onto the sofa. “I promise that I’m alright, it’s just been a bit of a bad day, but I meant t-“ before he could carry on, your lips pressed to his to silence him.

As much as he hated to admit it, he needed you more than ever today, and seeing how much you cared to check on him in person was so important to him. In fact, it was the last little hint he needed to know that his heart was right.

“I’m not leaving, even if you don’t want to talk,” you whispered into his ear, “I just had to come and see for myself that you were alright.”

“I’m alright now,” he smiled, resting tighter into your side, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Your hands wiped underneath his eyes, “I care too much about you to think of you being all alone at a time like this, I wanted to be here.”

“Thank you for being here for me.”

Shindong:

You noticed him sat at his desk as he soon as you walked into the studio, pushing the door open gently so not to disturb, hovering by his side. “Do you know how late it is?” You asked, still making him jump as he saw you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you straight into his lap.

“It’s one in the morning, what are you doing outside? You’ll catch a cold,” he quickly scolded.

“I was wondering where you were, so I thought you could probably do with some company if you were working this late,” you smiled, tightening the hoodie that was wrapped around you. “I thought you might be having a bit of a hard time too working this late.”

He always valued himself as someone hard to read, but somehow you always managed to read him perfectly. His arms tightened around you as he felt how cold you were, hoping that the warmth you created in his heart would keep you cosy.

“There’s a restaurant still open just down the road, have you eaten?” You asked, looking over his face closely, “I don’t mind heading back out.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he quickly established, “you’ve done enough just coming here.”

You sighed, poking against his cheek, “at least let me order something then, I can guarantee you won’t have taken care of yourself properly today.”

“Let me do it, it’s the least I can do.”

Eunhyuk:

It was Kwanghee who spotted you first as you hung back behind the cameras, tapping Hyukjae’s shoulder until he looked around. “Looks like someone is here to see you,” he smiled, taking a step back s Hyukjae could walk over and greet you properly.

“Kyu said you left in a bit of a mood this morning, so I thought I’d come and cheer you up,” you mused.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to see your face,” he laughed, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “Everything was just going wrong this morning, and you weren’t there to fix it, you normally have the solution to all of my problems.”

He couldn’t believe it as you told him how you’d taken the afternoon off of work in order to try and cheer him up, and all the effort you’d gone to just for him. Even if all you were going to be doing was hanging back and watching as he recorded the show.

“You don’t have to stay,” he told you several times, hating the feeling that he was burdening you. “I can always just come to your place when we’re done.”

“I’ve taken the time off to be here for you,” you reminded him, cupping his cheeks.

Eventually, he began to listen, “I promise we’ll get done as quickly as possible. And then we can do something, I’ll show you the same love that you show me.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?”

Siwon:

Your heart broke as you watched him walk through the house, dragging his feet behind him. “The audition can’t have been that bad,” you tried to reassure him, but his head simply shook every time you spoke. “Why don’t you tell me what you think went so badly?”

“I just know they didn’t like me, straight away I could tell,” he groaned, taking a seat on the sofa.

“If they can’t see what I see in you then they weren’t deserving of your acting anyway,” you comforted, taking a seat beside him. “There’ll be better jobs just around the corner that I know will be perfect for you, don’t let one bad one get you down too much.”

With every word you spoke he began to feel better, he wasn’t sure exactly what it was or how you said it, but your words were so honest. You were the comfort he needed at times like this that perhaps he’d taken for granted before.

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better,” he whispered, struggling to hold onto his emotions, “coming home to you was exactly what I needed.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you argued, but he refused to listen.

His hand locked with yours, “you did so much that you don’t even notice. You’ve just filled me with love when I felt so void of it, Y/N.”

“You deserve to be loved, that’s why.”

Donghae:

The sound of the fans captured his attention as he walked through the crowd, spotting exactly what they were trying to get him to look at. “Y/N,” he whispered, covering his expression with his hands as he walked over to stand in front of you, covering you from the fans.

“Surprise,” you chuckled, resting your hands over his and moving them so you could see his smile.

“What are you doing here?” He laughed, studying your features closely, making sure that you really were stood before him. “You told me you were busy with work, we’re so far from home. Did you really fly all of this way for me?”

The nod of your head brought a smile to his face as he felt his heart skip a beat. The two of you had only been dating a few months, but the fact that you’d travelled so far just to see him meant the absolute world to him, confirming all his feelings.

“The show is really good,” you giggled as he slowly went quiet, “I didn’t realise just how talented you were until I saw you up on stage.”

“I must’ve known you were here,” he teased, resting his forehead against yours.

You smiled softly, “you might want to get back on stage before the fans start rioting that you’ve stopped singing,” you reminded him.

“I will, and I’ll show you how appreciative I am.”

Ryeowook:

A quiet giggle came from Ryeowook as he continued to blow light air against your face, watching as your eyes slowly opened. “Why can’t you just let me sleep?” You frowned as you saw him gazing across at you, propping himself up on the pillow with his elbow.

“I couldn’t help it, you just looked so cute,” he blushed, pressing his hand against the top of your head.

“If you were anyone else, I would’ve hit you for waking me up on my one day off,” you scolded, turning the corners of your mouth up into a smile. “Seeing as I have the day off, and so do you, have you got any plans for what you want to get up to today?”

His head shook as he draped his arm around you, it had been far too long since the two of you just had time together. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was desperate just to be around you and allow his heart to do all the talking.

“There’s so much I want to catch up with you on,” he whispered across to you, “so many thoughts and feelings I’ve kept bottled up for some time.”

“We can just lay here and talk if it’s what you want to do,” you hummed.

Instantly, his head nodded, “it’s like you can read my mind. I want to go first though, there’s a few important things I want to say,” he spoke, pulling you closer.

“I’m all ears and listening.”

Kyuhyun:

Knowing Kyuhyun so well you knew how much he hated affection, anytime one of the other members got too close to him he’d always freak out a little and flinch. As you watched as the boys entered the dressing room, you were surprised to see him come straight over to you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just exhausted after the recording, everything’s annoying me,” he whispered as he cuddled into you.

“Surely not everything,” you laughed, but his head shook, resting his head against your shoulder. “Just lay here for a while if it’ll make you feel better,” you assured him, running your hands through his hair. You were surprised at how needy he was, but you didn’t want to say anything.

Neither really did Kyuhyun, it took him by surprise too how much he found himself needing you. He’d never search for a hug or a hand from anyone else, but with you he always found such great comfort even in the smallest piece of affection.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked you suddenly, glancing up at your eyes. “I’m so lucky to be the one in a relationship with you.”

“You really must be tired if you’re getting soppy,” you joked.

He smiled softly, “I’m being serious, I know I joke a lot, but I mean it. Just having you around sometimes really does just mean the world to me.”

“Get some rest Kyu, we can talk more later.”

---

Masterlist

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 1

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,183

Warnings: none

A/N: This is brand new and probably one of the softest series I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it, these two are going to fall in love so hard!

“I don’t feel good.”

You started rocking back and forth, your breathing coming too fast and too shallow. A drop of sweat rolled down from your armpit, making you hyperaware of the fact that you were looking like a mess. You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and groaned; your hairline was wet.

Looking at your dress, you felt bile rise up in your throat.

You should have worn the blue dress. Blue was a nice colour, everyone loved blue. Blue made people calm and at ease. No, instead, you had taken Natasha’s advice and put on the tight orange-red dress that clung to your body and made your breasts look incredible.

But now the dress stuck uncomfortably to your body, the space between your breasts was wet and glistening. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. Red was the colour of passion, of anger and danger, and you just had to deal with your poor life decision.

Although deep down, you knew it wasn’t about the dress, or its colour.

“Relax,” Natasha said, sipping her lemonade. “I’m here, it’s going to be fine.”

“I am not fucking relaxed, Nat,” you repeated with a scoff. “I’m at a bar, about to meet a potential sugar daddy; that’s not what normal people do on a Friday night.”

“You’d be surprised,” she sassed. You gave her an unimpressed look. “Look, you can live with me for as long as you like, and you can work odd shifts at the hotel for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. But I know you, you’re an artist, and artists need freedom and benefactors. Sam is the reason I finished paying my tuition. You can call him my sugar daddy, but I prefer the word scholarship.”

Yeah, it was only a matter of perspective –and vocabulary. Some may call this whole thing brilliant, others stupid. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet.

“And this guy’s legit?” you asked for the nth time.

“Yes, Sam says he’s a great guy; sweet, handsome, thoughtful. He’s the whole package.”

“Mmmh.”

You eyed the pair of napkins the waiter had placed on the table along with your drinks, and wondered if it would be appropriate to stick them under your armpits to sop up the sweat trickling down your sides.

“Oh, fuck it,” you grumbled, reaching for the napkins.

You patted your armpits dry while you anxiously scanned the growing crowd. It was a high end bar, definitely not your usual hang out spot. The patrons were dressed in designer clothes and wore jewellery that cost more than your three years of art classes at the School of Visual Arts.

“Do we really have to stay sober?”

Natasha cocked a brow at you. “You don’t drink.”

You only groaned in response.

“I know how you’re feeling, I’ve been there, too,” she replied. “It’ll be like a normal first date. You’ll get to know each other, see if you guys hit it off, and if everything goes well you’ll talk about the arrangement. You can’t give consent if you’re under the influence of alcohol, so drink your lemonade and stop fussing, yeah?”

Like an obedient child, you brought the bent straw to your lips and took a quick sip of the icy refreshment. You toyed with the straw and watched the ice cubes slowly shrink. It was strangely soothing.

“They’re here.”

And just like that, your panic returned full force. You snapped your head up and tried to smile when you saw Sam approaching your table. You set your drink down on the coffee table and wiped your clammy hands on your dress.

Natasha stood up and gave Sam a kiss. While she wiped off a smudge of lipstick she had left on his upper lip, you glanced at the man behind Sam.

He was tall, muscular, and had a mysterious air about him. He was dressed casually, in black jeans and white t-shirt with a maroon bomber jacket that suited his pale complexion. The left sleeve of his jacket was tucked inside, empty.

Even without being an expert in behaviour analysis, you could tell he felt uncomfortable. He bowed his head to hide his face and kept looking around as if someone was going to attack him or as if he wanted to know where the nearest exit was.

Sam whispered something in the man’s ear and clapped him on the back before he turned to you.

“Okay, we’ll let you guys get to know each other.” Natasha looped her arm through Sam’s, and gave you an encouraging smile. You heard Sam whispering to his friend again. “Buck, seriously, you look like someone shoved a broomstick up your ass. Relax, man.”

“We’ll be over at the bar if you need anything.”

She gave you a thumbs-up as Sam led her across the crowd, toward the bar. With an authoritative look, Sam pointed to the seat across from yours and mouthed ‘sit’ at his friend who rolled his eyes and ground his teeth in response.

“Hi,” you started, trying to sound cheerful but the slight tremble in your voice gave you away.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “you seem like a nice girl but I’m not looking for anyone, least of all a sugar baby. I told Sam it was a stupid idea, but he never listens. This has nothing to do with you, I’m sure you’re great. I’m really sorry, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

He had barely made eye contact with you during his long-winded speech but you did notice that they were blue. Now that you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, your shoulders lowered and you felt yourself smiling.

“Of course, I understand. I wasn’t particularly thrilled, too. No offense.”

He bent his head and ran a hand through his hair, his lips curved up in a soft smile. “Is your friend as meddling as mine?”

You let out a loud laugh, your eyes widening. “More! If meddling were an Olympic sport, Nat would have more medals than Michael Phelps.”

His shoulders shook in a soundless chuckle but he still wasn’t looking at you. “So why’d you agree?”

You took your glass of lemonade and played with the straw while you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound too desperate or dramatic. You majestically failed.

“I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose.” You shrugged. “It’s like when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and you only have two options; jumping off the cliff or getting eaten by a pack of wolves,” you said, checking them off on your fingers as you enumerated them. “You have to choose the lesser of two evils.”

He frowned, a curious glint in his eyes and a hint of a smile curved his lips. Your eyes widened when you realized you might have offended him.

“Not that I think you’re evil,” you rushed to add. “What I meant to say is that sometimes you don’t really have a choice. And when you have no other option but to jump, well... your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.”

He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, a form of understanding in the depth of his icy blue eyes. He was truly handsome; a little older than the men you usually went out with, but he had kind eyes and very, very nice lips. You looked away, feeling a little foolish.

“Wow, I’m fun at parties, uh? Guess you dodged a bullet,” you laughed, cringing a little as you said it.

He returned a tight smile, loaded with something sad. He looked at you a moment longer and you held your breath, suddenly hoping he would stay and chat. A solemn expression crossed his face and he seemed to go through some kind of inner struggle before he reached a decision.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, shaking your hand before wishing you goodnight. You watched him leave the bar, his shoulders hunched forward, looking as tense as he did when he entered.

That tiny flicker of hope left with him.

“Hey!” Sam called out, a deep frown on his face as he approached you. “Where is he going?”

“It didn’t work out,” you answered with a shrug.

Sam deflated. “I bet he didn’t even try.”

“Does it really matter?” you replied, shrugging into your coat, something way too thin for the changing weather. “He’s not ready, and honestly, you can’t blame him. This sugar daddy-baby thing isn’t for everyone.”

“I know that,” Sam argued, blowing out a frustrated breath. He turned to Natasha, silently pleading with her to understand, but she was as clueless as you were.

There were lots of reasons Sam wanted Bucky to meet you, and none of them included sex. It was difficult to explain his motivations without betraying his friend’s trust; without telling you too much about Bucky.

“I’m not trying to find him a girlfriend,” Sam continued. “He needs more friends, and he has connections to help you in the art world. I thought you two could help each other out.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck and grabbed the backpack you had shoved under your seat. It contained your work uniform, clean underwear, toiletries, a bottle of water, your wallet, and a couple of granola bars. Your whole life was in that backpack.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you said, adjusting the trap of your bag. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” You turned to Nat. “I’m going to stay at the hotel tonight, my shift starts at 6 so you’ll have the apartment to yourself.”

Without waiting for an answer, you disappeared into the crowd and headed for the door. Outside the wind was blowing, the cold air biting at your face and bare legs. You took a deep breath, watching as the cold air turned your breath into white smoke.

People were milling about, taking pictures of the skyscrapers, walking hand-in-hand and marvelling at pretty much anything. New York was full of contradictions; kind and hard, smooth and rough, poor and rich. It was exciting to live here, it was exciting to see how people lived together despite their differences. For an artist such as yourself, it was a gold mine of infinite inspiration.

In front of you, a taxi drove closer to the curb, then slowed as a man stepped onto the street and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw you standing there. Sam’s friend smiled at you.

He noticed your light coat, your backpack and your scuffed ankle boots. It was hard to believe that under your coat, you were wearing a sexy little number. He imagined that this was more your style, and he liked it. It was fresh, laidback, casual. He could even see a few drops of paint on the toe of your boots, a smattering of orange and blue.

“Hi, again,” he said. “Wanna share a cab?”

You nodded eagerly, your face half buried in your scarf. You were positively freezing, you didn’t even think twice about following him. He let you climb in first and jumped in after you, angling his body to hide his missing arm.

You gave the driver the address of a Holiday Inn in the Flatiron District and sank into the seat. It dawned on you that you didn’t even know his name. Sam had called him Buck, but you were pretty sure it was one of those nicknames only long-time friends are allowed to use.

“Bucky,” he said with a genuine smile after you told him your name. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening. How long are you going to stay in town?”

“No worries, you didn’t ruin anything. And I live in New York. I live with Natasha.”

“Aren’t we going to a hotel?” Bucky asked, looking out the window with a frown.

“Yup, I work there. Breakfast attendant. I figured Sam and Nat would like some privacy and sometimes my co-worker at the front desk let me borrow a room for the night.”

The car pulled to a stop at the curb and you reached into the front pocket of your backpack to retrieve your wallet. Bucky stopped you.

“Please, let me pay,” he said. “As a sorry for dragging you to a bar and leaving without even telling you my name.”

“Ouch, yes, when you put it like that it wasn’t a great night,” you said with a crooked smile. He responded with an exaggerated cringe. It made you laugh. “Hey, it wasn’t you who dragged me to a bar, it was Sam. You can always tell him to pay you back.”

His eyes brightened. “I definitely will.”

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you giggled, closing the door behind you. You walked up to the big automatic doors and waved goodbye one last time.

“’Night, angel.”

Bucky asked the driver to wait until you were safe inside before driving away. As he watched you, he thought back to what you had said earlier.

Your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.

This time, it made him smile.

part 2

[huntergatherercreator]

Take Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: Smut, mention of cheating and alcohol abuse, break-up angst

Note: Have I really just written something not mob!tom related? I’m as shocked as you are. This is my first time posting something that contains sexual content on this level, it’s kinda nerve wracking so any feedback would be appreciated! Also, let me know if I’ve missed any warnings I should have added.

-------

2,032 words

The bar wasn’t your usual scene. You preferred local, intimate places not clubs like this. Despite being underground the mirrored ceiling made it feel twice as open. You looked out over the dance floor from the mezzanine at the entrance door searching for your friends. Rhythmic lighting spilled over the space. It was almost filled to capacity with bodies dancing to bass so loud it reverberated through the soles of your new shoes.

An exaggerated wave from the middle of the bar caught your attention and you smiled as your friend signalled you over. Gripping the handrail of the metal steps you took a breath before descending. You still weren’t completely comfortable with the outfit you’d been talked into wearing but judging by the looks you were getting as you cut across the floor it wasn’t as bad as you’d initially feared.

“Damn, Y/N! You look incredible!” Your friend gushed pulling you in beside her at the bar. Signalling to the bartender she had them pour out two shots. Turning to you with a devilish grin she offered you a lime wedge.

“No way. I just got here,” you refused. As much as you enjoyed drinking the past three months had been filled with nights spent at the bottom of a bottle. You were slowly getting back control. Reigning yourself in after the worst breakup you’d ever experienced but it was a slow process.

A lot of your recovery had to do with the guy you’d met a few weeks ago. Tonight was the first night he’d meet your best friend, the one whose opinion could make or break the possible relationship.

With a sulky pout she downed her own. “So, when will this mystery man of yours get here?”

“He should be here soon.” Your friend leaned her back against the bar, eyes scanning the room.

“Hmm...is it him?” she mused pointing to a guy with too much hair product. “No,” she shook her head, “it’s got to be him.” You followed her finger and snorted a laugh as you watched a guy dancing awkwardly in the corner.  

“Stop it. You’ll know him when you see him,” you promised. Turning back to the bar to order a beer you heard her gasp even over the loud music. In the mirrors lining the glass shelves you could see him approaching and couldn’t stop a smile. Your friend not so subtly nudged you.

“Is this real? Is he coming over? My god, he’s gorgeous” she babbled. You took a long sip of your beer and decided to let her work it out on her own.

“He looks like he works out so much. Those jeans, that t-shirt...” You could practically hear her drooling before she quickly spun to face you. “Shit, he’s actually coming over, what do we..”

“Hey, Y/N.” Settling your beer on a napkin you watched your friends eyes widen, mouth agape. With a laugh you finally faced him. His smile faltered as he took you in, a faint blush creeping up his face.

“You look amazing.” Leaning into you his hand rested on your hip as he kissed your cheek.

Just as your friend had said, Adam was gorgeous. Standing a good foot above you with tousled blonde hair and classic baby blues he wasn’t your normal type, which is exactly why you’d gone for him. After the last failed relationship it was clear what you were attracted to and what you needed were two different things. Adam was your clean slate. Your fresh start.

It was different with him. There hadn’t been an instant attraction but the more you got to know him the more relaxed you felt. Sure there was still no flutter when he kissed you, no spark, but given enough time you were sure that would grow.

You introduced your friend who was still having a hard time closing her mouth all the way, then using Adam’s height to your advantage you got him to find a free table at the edge of the room. Sliding into the booth between them you settled in for the interrogation. He didn’t seem phased. He linked his warm fingers with yours and answered as honestly as possible. Watching him you couldn’t help but smile as he devoutly tried to stop his gaze from wandering to the low cut of your dress and the way his cheek flushed when he failed.

Beer finished you excused yourself to grab a new round for the table. The queue at the bar was steadily getting busier as the night went on. You tried to work your way further down to a quieter spot, keeping your head down and gently elbowing your way through the groups. A gap opened up and you rushed to move into the space only to collide with someone. Your foot slipped on a spilled drink and a strong hand caught your waist to steady you. Cheeks heating from embarrassment you internally cursed your shoes. Gathering some courage you glanced up to thank your saviour and the words died in your throat.

Soft chestnut eyes stared down at you intently. You’re heart hammered under their gaze, sweat starting to make your hands clammy. You’d thought you’d never see him again. You’d hoped you wouldn’t. But here he was, looking immaculate in an all black suit and even better than you remembered. The heat of his hand against your waist seemed to sear through your dress and you tried to step back out of his reach but he only pulled you closer.

“Y/N.” The room seemed to still, the music dimming. All you could hear was his voice. The rough edge it held when he said your name had your body reacting as if the last few months hadn’t happened. You clenched your fists hating how with one word he could get under your skin again after all this time.

“Let me go.” You barely managed to whisper out the words but you knew he’d heard. He downed what was left in his glass and brushed against you as he placed it on the bar. The scent of him wrapped around you triggering memories that you’d tried to suppress.

Leaning in his lips brushed your ear as he spoke. “We need to talk.” Irritation flared. Who did he think he was? It had been months and now he wanted to talk? Steeling yourself you shoved his hand away.

“I have nothing to say to you, Tom.”

“Then listen.” You made the mistake of meeting his eyes and the intensity radiating from them dried up your protest.

“The guy you’re with is no good.” You jerked back away from him and he had the gall to look surprised.

Anger snaking through you, you felt your lip curl. “He’s none of your business. I’m none of your business.” Elbowing past him you fought the crowd blindly. You had to get away from him.

Reaching the back wall you slipped into a side hallway marked private. The music dimmed to a muted thump and you let out a ragged breath. As your adrenaline started to dip you started shaking. Wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to calm down.

“Y/N.” You cursed as you sensed him approach but refused to turn. Seeing him, seeing how little he’d changed and knowing how readily you still reacted to him was too much.

“Leave me alone.”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be with him.” He’d stopped behind you, his breath ruffling your hair as he spoke.

You couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. “You’re just saying that because you can’t stand to see me with someone else.” The beat of silence that followed had a chill creeping over your skin. Don’t look at him, don’t do it. Your fingers tightened into fists as you fought against yourself. God you wanted to turn around. You wanted to run your fingers through his soft curls, you wanted to breathe in the indescribable scent that was Tom as he held you and...

Hands skimming over your waist he closed the gap. His chest against your back you shivered at the warmth he radiated. You held back a soft moan as his lips ghosted over your throat.

“He’s not right for you,” he breathed. Your mind conjured an image of Adam and the realisation of what you were doing doused you like ice water. You spun out of Tom’s grip, palm pressed against the wall to steady yourself.

“You walked away from me, remember?” Your voice shook with effort as you tried to fight back tears. Tom grimaced, eyes lowering. Your heart ached at his expression but anger chased it off. “You don’t get to act the martyr, Tom, and you certainly don’t get to have a say in my love life.”

Gaze flashing up to you his shoulders set, jaw working for a long second before he spoke.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?” you snapped.  

“Do you love him?” Taken aback your mouth fell open. When you didn’t answer he took a step forward. He searched your face, gaze dipping to your lips hungrily. Your stomach dipped traitorously as heat pooled through you.

“Tom,” you warned, voice barely a whisper. He was too far gone to listen.

Hands cupping your face his lips brushed against yours, feather light and testing your reaction. Your body lit up at his touch. Nerve endings that had been dormant firing to life. Despite everything your body craved his touch, needed him on a deeper level than you understood.

Fingers drifting to caressed your neck, he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped at the cold, arching against Tom’s chest to escape it and he mistook your movements as encouragement. Gripping your hip to pull you even closer he deepened the kiss. You could feel his excitement as he pressed against you and it broke your last reserve of control.

Lips parting you relinquished to him. Tongue flicking out to claim your mouth the familiar taste of sweet whisky brushed over your taste buds. His fingers drifted from your neck. Following the low V of your dress he traced the channel between your breasts before slipping them under the fabric. He let out a low groan as he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip his fingers massaged you, thumb circling your nipple drawing out whimpers.

Your hands wound into his hair, tugging at the curls. Lifting a leg to wrap around his waist you gasped as he rutted his hips against you. The soft fabric covering his erection brushed against you teasingly. Hiking your other leg around his waist he held you firmly against the wall, fingers digging into your ass. He dipped his head to kiss your neck, biting and suckling at the sensitive spot above your collar bone until you could barely think. Your underwear was ruined.

Slipping a hand between your bodies you traced the outline of his bulge slowly, intent on dragging it out like you’d imagined on long nights without him. When he bucked against your hand with a needy moan you knew you’d never be able to keep it up.

“Y/N?” The distant voice broke you from your trance. You tried to break away from Tom but he held you tight.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll let you go back to him.” The ragged edge to his voice had you shivering.

“Tom,” you pleaded, heart breaking all over again as he watched you with tormented eyes.

“I made a mistake. I should never have let you go.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Tell me you’ll take me back,” he begged.

The sound of Adam calling for you started to grow louder but here in Tom’s arms the guilt and regret you should be feeling was kept at bay. All you wanted was him. Even if it was only temporary, even if it was only for tonight.

“I want you, Tom.” He relaxed, relief flooding his expression before he caught you in another heady kiss.

“Let’s get out of here.” The grin you’d missed so much lit his face as he gently put you down and guided you towards the emergency exit.

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Nesta Ballerina AU ~ should I write a one shot??

One shot:

Nesta stretched her arms above her head, before plopping them back on the comforter, yawning as she opened her eyes squinting at the beam of light peeking through her tiny window. She rips of the comforter, throwing her legs at the side, a new wave of excitement rushing through her.

She throws on a sweater and slips on her slippers as she pushes open the door of her room and enters the kitchen, living room, office, dance studio combo. Mor was already up, moving around the kitchen, bopping her head to the music that was playing from her phone.

“It’s show day!” Nesta yells.

Mor jumps turning to see Nesta. “It’s show day!” Mor screams back, jumping up and down. They had moved to New York together four years ago, going to school to be professional ballerinas, and then auditioning for company after company until they finally got in. “Celebratory pancakes?”

Nesta smiles as she slides onto one of the bar stools as Mor slides a plate in front of her. “Any news about the boyfriend?” Mor asks, stuffing a fork full of pancake into her mouth.

Nesta frowns, reaching forward to grab the jar of syrup, squeezing a little bit on top. She shrugs, “It’s not a big deal, he called me last night,” Nesta says, pushing her food around, “He couldn’t get off work, some important meeting tonight. He’s going to try and come next week.”

Mor bites her lip, reaching over to squeeze her hand, before pulling back and going back to her pancakes. “Issa okay, it’ll be so busy today, you won’t even miss him,” she replies. “I think almond milk lattes from Beans and then we head to the theater early and check everything out.”

Nesta nods, she was going to need all the coffee she can get, their director Amara wanted to do a few more run throughs of the show to touch up any mistakes before the first showing. Nesta’s ankles already ached from yesterday's rehearsal.

“So Rhysand and Azriel are both coming,” Mor responds, looking down at her phone. “Feyre is coming straight after work. I think she’s bringing her loser boyfriend, Tamlin or whatever. Elain and Lucien found a babysitter so they are coming. I haven’t heard from Amren.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “I called her yesterday, she's coming. She just wanted to pull on your strings.”

There’s a knock on the door and Mor twirls as she moves towards it, Nesta pulling her phone out from her pocket to see a text from Cassian. Good luck tonight, beat all those other bunheads. She smiles, he meant well but as a professional hockey player he didn’t really get the whole non-competing thing.

“I think these are for you,” Mor sing-songs. Nesta quickly hits send on her message back and looks up at Mor who was holding a boutique of flowers. Nesta jumps out of her seat and grabs the flowers, looking for the card. Cassian.

She smiles, “Take a pic of me? I’ll send it to him,” she responds.

Mor grabs Nesta’s phone and snaps a picture. “Okay, now hurry up,” Mor replies, “I don’t want to be late.”

Nesta rolls her eyes as her friend pushes her into her room. “You don’t want to be late to get to the theater early?” she deadpans. Mor gives her a look before slamming the door. Nesta chuckles, sending the picture to Cassian. I’d rather have you but the flowers were a nice touch.

She hits send before putting on her leotard, slipping on a skirt and sweater, she slides on some boots before heading back out into the living room. “Look at this sweet video Elain sent me on snapchat,” Mor says, handing me the phone, it was Nesta niece in a tutu dancing around the living room. “I can’t believe it’s real, I feel like someone needs to pitch me and I’ll wake back up in small town Prythian, Rhode Island in Night Court Dance Studio.”

“Stars, remember how many times Feyre would get yelled at by Morta Queen?” Nesta asks as she grabs her dance bag and wallet and they make their way out of their crabby little apartment and down the narrow hall towards the exit. “She was so uncoordinated.”

Mor laughs as they move down the stairs and onto the busy street, squeezing through the people towards the coffee shop between their apartment and the theater. “And how Morta Queen used to bring her cat to rehearsals, she always wondered why our tights would always be ripped up,” Mor laughs as they clumsily fall into the door of the shop.

“Nesta! Mor! How nervous are you?” the barista behind the counter asks. “I can’t wait to see you guys perform, got my tickets for two weekends from now.”

Mor smiles and goes on a rant about how excited and nervous she is while Nesta can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many people that loved and supported her. She looks down at her phone, Cassian hadn’t responded to her last message but he was probably in his meeting.

She was hoping to call him before the show but as Mor thrusts a coffee in her hand and pulls the other out the door she knows that's a long shot. The halls are already bustling with chatter as they move towards their dressing room. Tutus and leotards littering the hall, the halls foggy from hairspray.

“I told you we would be late to be early,” Mor says, giving Nesta a pointed look as they move into the dressing room. Two girls are already inside breaking in their pointe shoes. One of them looks up and smiles, “Amara is already on a rampage, I’d get into practice gear quick,” she warns.

Nesta downs her coffee before grabbing her pointe shoes from her bag and following Mor out onto the stage.

A long draining couple of hours later, Mor and Nesta make their way back into the dressing room falling onto the couch. “No....energy,” Mor groans, her face pushed against a pillow. “My blisters have blisters.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta says, falling into one of the makeup chairs and rubbing her feet. “Amara said we have ten minutes to get dressed and then be in hair and makeup so I am-,”

“Going to go call the boyfriend?” Mor ques, pushing herself into a sitting position, giving Nesta a taunting smile. “I’ll grab you a snack and bring it to you when we meet up for hair and makeup.”

Nesta grabs her phone and touches her chest. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Nesta exclaims as she leaves the dressing room, shoving through the line of girls in puffy tutus until she's in the back alley. She hits his contact and then puts the phone to her ear.

She bites her nail as she listens to it ring. His voice booming through the speakers seconds later: You’ve reached Cassian Monte, you know what to do.

She pauses, wanting to hang up and pretend she never called. It was a pretty new relationship, they went to high school together but never spoke until two years ago when they met at some fancy dinner her school threw. She had absolutely hated him at first as he kept popping into her life.

She finally let him take her out on a date the last time he was in town five months ago. “Hey Cas, um, I am about to go on soon so I thought I’d give you a call-,” she pauses biting her lip. “I hope your meeting went well today.”

There's a pause and she feels like she should say no but she just hangs up. Blowing at a strain of hair that slipped out from her pony-tail. She still had a whole army of people coming to support her. Besides he had sent her flowers this morning, it’s not his fault that he had meetings.

She looks down at her phone as if he was about to call her but when she’s only met with a black screen she swallows and pushes her way back into the building, walking down the crowded halls and into her dressing room where she changed into her costume before finding Mor at a vanity.

“Hey lovebird,” Mor says, as she leaned forward in the mirror to apply mascara. “You didn’t talk long.”

Nesta gave her a tight smile, as she took the seat next to her, two crew members immediately moving to begin working on her hair. “Yeah, well, I have an opening night to get ready for!” she exclaims.

Mor smiles, handing Nesta a stack of cards, “Well wishes from the friends and family,” Mor says, turning away from her to begin speaking to the hairdresser as Nesta fingered through different cards from her friends and family.

I am super excited for you both but did you really have to seat me right next to the love of my life and her douche boyfriend Tamlin? Stars, someone needs to punch him. -Rhys

You both have been working so hard for this, I am so excited for both of you Nesta eyes squint as the handwriting becomes more scribbled and tinier. Sorry. Elain started crying. It’s Lucien. She wants me to write that she is proud of both of you and that you are both role models for Lucy. -Elain and Lucien

“Curtain is up in ten minutes, everyone!” a producer yells, clapping her hands, Mor turns to smile at Nesta.

“This is it,” Mor comments.

The show is a blur of motion and music, Nesta can’t express what she’s feeling when she steps forward to take her final bow. She is speechless when she exits the theater and her friends and family surround her, Elain pulling her into a tearful hug while Feyre gives her a boutique of flowers.

She turns to see a tall man that she had never seen before that Rhysand was causally glaring at. “You must be the boyfriend, Tamlin, we are grabbing drinks after-,” Nesta says. Feyre who stood next to him shakes her head, her eyes wide as if trying to give Nesta a message.

“Drinks?” Tamlin asks, turning to Feyre who immediately stops shaking her head and laughs. “No, uh remember I mentioned having a thing in the morning, so I can’t stay out late.”

Tamlin nods, “I’ll grab us a taxi,” he muses as he moves towards the street.

“You were beautiful, Nes. Mom would have been proud,” Feyre says, pulling Nesta into a hug. “If I ever say I am going on a date with him ever again please knock some sense into me.”

“Feyre, ready?” Tamlin calls.

She rolls her eyes as she moved towards the taxi. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Feyre yells at them before Tamlin shuts the door and sits in the passenger seat.

“Ick, who sits in the front of a taxi?” Rhysand complains.

Mor bumps his shoulder. “She wouldn’t go on all these terrible dates if you just admitted how you felt already,” she exclaims.

“I have, it’s her turn,” Rhysand retorts.

Nesta rolls her eyes at their stubborness before turning to Elain and Lucien. “One drink? The bar I am thinking is just around the corner,” Nesta says, pulling at her sisters hands as if to guide her.

Elain chuckles turning to look at Lucien who shrugs. “We did tell the babysitter we would be out late,” she says and Nesta let’s out a cheer as she wraps an arm around her sisters shoulder and guides them down the street.

A few of there cast mates were already there celebrating. Elain and Lucien only staying for one drink, while the rest kept going strong.

Nesta catches Mor staring down at her phone before smiling. “Wanna head back soon?” Mor calls over the music.

Nesta nods feeling the exhaustion set in. They didn’t have a show tomorrow but they did have rehearsals and then a show Sunday. She probably should stay out too late.

Mor disappears before coming back minutes later a mischievous smile on her face. “I actually got asked to go home with that pretty blue eyed brunette over there, do you mind?” Mor asks.

Nesta follows Mor finger, it was one of girls on the makeup crew. She wasn’t Mors usual type. “You deserve your happy ending, go for it,” Nesta says. “Text me or call me anytime, okay?”

Mor nods pulling her into a hug. “Text me when you make it home, I might have a package waiting on the doorstep mind bringing it in for me?”

Nesta rolls her eyes but nods, mor was always treating herself to an online shopping spree. She moves through the crowd of sweaty people rubbing arms and onto the almost empty street.

They lived three doors down so it was a quick walk to their apartment. Nesta looks on the doorstep for a package but doesn’t see anything as she slides in the key and twists the knob.

She pauses in the doorway when she flicks on the light and there was a stack of her favorite snacks and a new romcom dvd sitting on the counter, as well as the blankets from both their rooms spread out on the furniture to create a fort.

She raises an eyebrow as she shuts the door, moving deeper into the apartment. Someone in the fort mutters a curse before popping out and giving her a sheepish smile. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” Cassian says as he awkwardly gets out of the fort and stands up.

He scratches the back of his neck nervously as he looks at her and she realizes she hasn’t said anything. “I am sorry, is this overstepping? I guess I wouldn’t be too thrilled to have a guy-,”

“No, it’s-,” she pauses as she looks at the fort and she’s the laptop screen beaming through the opening. She drops her bag in the ground and moves quickly to him. She throws her arms around his neck and he tightens his around her waist, picking her up in one smooth motion. “I am just shocked that you're here. No one has done something like this before.”

He smiles as they pull away, she slides down so her feet touch the ground but he’s still holding tightly to her waist. “If you’re tired I get it, you did so well tonight. God, Nes, you looked stunning up there,” he whispers against her temple.

She looks up at him. “You were there? You saw my performance?” She asks with excitement dripping from her voice. She hated being out of the know but Cassian was glad he was able to surprise her.

“My flight was delayed, I almost didn’t make it. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. I was still up in the air,” Cassian says. “I had to rush to the theater. I was standing all the way in the back, but I could still see you crush it.”

She laughs, pulling away from him and looking up at him seriously. “I missed you, a lot,” she says honestly.

“I missed you too,” he replies, pulling her back into his chest and stroking her hair. When she finally pulls away to shower and change she half expects him not to be there. That her dehydrated exhausted mind created a false reality but she opens her door he’s curled up in the fort waiting for her with a big bowl of popcorn.

Before she crawls in to join him, she looks over as her phone lights up with a new message from Mor. Did you like my package? Nesta smiles sending back a quick response and then crawling in the fort and curling up beside Cassian.

[theeightbts]

The Eight, Chapter 22

Seven Korean Warriors and their Queen.

Always together. Finding each other in every lifetime. Their souls destined for each other for eternity. Sometimes as friends. Sometimes as lovers. Sometimes as spouses. Always together. Until around two hundred years ago, when the Queen vanished. The Warriors: Poet, Misdirection, Ferocious, Watcher, Mischief, Adventure and Passion, continued to find each other, always accomplishing great things in their lives. In their current lives, they’ve found each other and created the biggest boy band in the world.  When their Queen is found, and The Eight souls are re-united, they have to figure out how to live, and love, together again.

Chapter 22

  Day one of the Rose Bowl concerts was a chaotic one. The Muse tried harder than usual to stay quiet and out of the way as they prepared. It was fascinating to see the backstage work first hand. She was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to watch from the crowd. She had never seen a concert of such a huge scale before. The Muse was put in a spot underneath the stage that was set up with a TV so she could watch the feed while being out of the way. All of her Warriors were hyped up with nerves and excitement. Jungkook even looked right at her when he brought her a couple of waters before he went on stage. She didn’t know if he was beginning to get more comfortable with her, or if it was just the energy of the day. Either way, she was gaining hope with him. With all of them. Jimin was no longer openly hostile with her. They even had a conversation or two. Taehyung was also starting to talk to her. He still stared, but she felt like they were on their way to bonding, too. Good thing, too, as she was supposed to stay with him for the first time tonight. Yoongi had come the farthest of the four. He was quiet, yes, but since she stayed with him a couple of nights ago, he started flirting with her on occasion, and smiled at her often.

    Shortly before they went on stage, Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok all stopped in to check on her and collect good luck kisses. The others all watched with looks of longing. Like they wanted kisses, too, but were not yet comfortable asking for them. Taking a chance, The Muse smiled kindly, walked up to Yoongi, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His hand reflexively landing on her waist. She moved down the line, placing sweet kisses on Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook’s cheeks before wishing them all luck. All seven of her Warriors headed to the lift with genuine, happy smiles on their faces.

    Even from below the stage, the concert was an experience she would never forget. The sound of Army. The boom of the music. The sweat covered, exhausted men she saw running back and forth between sets. She wished she could have seen it all from the crowd. It looked incredible on the tv screen, and sounded even more amazing. She was glowing with pride at what these men had accomplished. The whole experience was over in what felt like minutes.

Her Warriors were all exhausted and hungry, sore and hurting when it was done.

They spent time after the show eating, being massaged and having injuries iced down.

The Muse sat in the background, trying to let the professionals do their work. She noticed Jimin rubbing at his neck as he was seated, icing his knee. “Do you want me to rub your neck for you?” she asked him, hopeful that he would accept this bit of kindness from her.

His head jerked up, making him wince. Several emotions passed through his eyes as he thought about it.

“It’s ok if you don’t want me to,” she said with a small smile, trying to be reassuring. “I will understand.”

“Ok.” he said in a small voice, turning his back toward her so she could reach his neck.

She massaged his neck and shoulders, paying attention to his reactions as she went. She really didn’t want to hurt him or have him be uncomfortable with her. Jimin didn’t say a word the entire time she massaged him. But, he didn’t seem to be too tense about it. Soon enough, it was his turn with the actual masseuse. He thanked her quietly, actually looking her in the eye, before heading off.

The Muse felt good about it. They were making headway.

    She and Taehyung had a fairly mellow night at the hotel. He was exhausted but hungry. So, they ate the biggest burgers they could find and watched an old movie on the local cable television. She had seen it before, and remembered watching it with her mother when she was young. It made her wistful, and sort of sad. Her mother had passed a few years before that, so it was a grief she was accustomed to feeling. She allowed herself to wander down the paths of her memory that she had tried so hard not to go down anymore. She saw her mother, and her memories from childhood. The killer was when she started to think about her son.

   The Muse excused herself, saying she needed a shower. Really, she just needed to cry. Hopeful the sounds of the water falling in the tub would help cover the sounds she was making. It didn’t. Out in the room, Taehyung was concerned, but he didn’t want to barge into the bathroom with her in the shower. So, he did the only thing he could think to do. Text the members and see if anyone had any ideas.

Yoongi, Jungkook and Jimin were all equally as concerned. But Jin, Hoseok and Namjoon were all understanding. Seokjin said that she does that sometimes when she thinks about the people she was taken from, and that she would be fine after some cuddles.

If cuddling is what she needs, then cuddles is what she will get. If there was something Tae was good at, it was cuddling. So, when she finally came out of the shower, wearing those tiny boy shorts and tight tank top, he held his arms open and announced that he was the cuddle master and that he will make her all better. She gave a little laugh and crawled into his arms. It didn’t take too long for her to fall asleep in his warmth and security. Taehyung laid with her for a while, looking at her face while she slept. So this was his wife? This was who he would spend his life with? He had always imagined falling in love. He imagined himself being the kind of man that would love his wife to distraction. She would become his world. Just as he would become hers. She was beautiful. He loved to look at her. Watch her mannerisms, her reactions. How she chewed her lip, or how her forehead creased when she was concentrating on something. She was so curious about everything and everyone around her, when she was truly the most fascinating thing there. He did feel things with her. Having her in his arms felt more right than he would have ever guessed. What would it be like to actually kiss her? Or, be intimate with her? He admonished himself for thinking that way. He was not in the position to get hard, and would wake her up if he tried to go to the bathroom to deal with it.

After an hour or so of studying her sleeping face, thinking about his feelings and the future possibilities, Taehyung finally fell asleep.

    The Muse woke first in the morning. Once again wrapped all up in warmth and security. She glanced up into Tae’s sleeping face and smiled at how relaxed and rested he looked. She snuggled back into his chest, noticing that she was in a similar position as she was when she woke up with Yoongi. She felt happy at that moment. Until she had to pee, of course. She tried so hard not to wake him as she untangled her arms and legs from him, and thought she’d managed it, until she came back from the bathroom and saw him watching her.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, Tae. I was trying to let you sleep.”

He just held his arms open as a sign for her to get back in bed.

“When do we need to get up for the day?” She asked as she laid her head on his chest.

He looked at the clock and huffed out a breath. “Now. We have interviews in two hours.”

They ordered their breakfast, and Min-Ho arrived with her daily torture wear.

Taehyung had excused himself to the bathroom while she dressed.

“You are going to be photographed today, Princess. You need to look hot. Remember, Shoulders down, chest out, no smiling.” he chanted as he zipped her into the tight dress. With a flourish, Min-Ho had her hair up and makeup perfect. Thank god. She can’t even get eyeliner on straight. But the heels. The damn heels. “Why can’t I just wear some cute sandals or something?” she almost begged. He snorted. This was a daily argument. And today he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her about it. He just handed them to her with a roll of the eyes and disappeared.

Next

Master List

[stardancerluv]

Gotham Surviving the Pandemic 2021

Part 2

Summary: Time to open the club back up!

Note: some images for the collage are from Halton which premiere’s Friday on Netflix! Can’t wait!

Roman walked into the club. Victor was walking the perimeter, and checking any of the places that were considered soft spots. His concerns laid everywhere.

He stopped at the bar. “Mr. Sionis.”

“Have Heather bring my martini & Y/N’s drink over once we get to the table.”

“Certainly boss.”

“And remember, no more than two drinks per person. Any more and you finally get replaced. Clear?”

The man nodded. “I enjoy being your bartender. I’m not stupid.”

“Good.”

He glanced over to where the waitresses huddled. All he had to do was give them a look and they knew how to behave.

Everything looked great. As he went upstairs, it nagged on him that it felt like he was starting all over again. Only this time a larger portion of Gotham belonged to him. That made the one side of his mouth curl up.

As he went up in the elevator, he removed his monogrammed mask and slipped it into his pocket. Once in the master bath, he ran his comb through his hair. He eyed his reflection, he looked good. He stopped by his closet and grabbed a pair of shades and slipped them behind his handkerchief.

Glancing into your closet, he smiled seeing you sitting at your vanity. He went up behind you, laid his gloved hands on your shoulders and pressed a kiss to one of them. Your eyes met in the mirror. “Ready?”

You nodded.

“Great.” He offered you his hand. Taking it, he pulled you close. “You look magnificent baby.”

You laid a gentle hand on his chest.

“Tonight, this grand opening will be the beginning of great things.”

You smoothed your hand over his suit jacket. “I am so excited.”

******

As the driver drove you along the ocean front of Gotham, he reached out to your hand. His thumb grazed over the engagement ring. “Despite having been shot, I chose a good one.”

You smiled. “You did. You always have good taste.” You looked away.

“Baby, tonight is our big moment.” His jaw took an edge. You should have swallowed your unease. “What’s the matter?”

“Excited you got this. This night is yours,” You swallowed. “Though knowing that virus is still out there has me anxious.”

He nodded. “I understand but baby,” His gloved hand cupped your cheek. His thumb caressed it. “We’ve survived this long and we will continue to do so.” He drew closer. “If anyone puts us at risk, I will have no tolerance.” His blue eyes became ice. “If they do I’ll kill them.”

Trembling, you closed the distance that was left between the two of you and you kissed him. Your heart ached, you were reminded of who he was and why you loved him. “Good.” You whispered against his lips.

“That’s my baby.”

*****

The rolls pulled up with a purr to the main entrance of the club.

“Ready, love?” You nodded.

He tilted your face up and kissed you one last time. His eyes twinkled before he slipped his hand into his pocket, he took out your mask. With utmost care he then slipped the mask onto your face. Your initials were embroidered on yours, its colors matching your delicate silky pink and silver dress.

“Roman, my king, are you ready?” He nodded.

You slipped your hand into his other pocket and took out his mask which had his initials embroidered into its side. His was a rich shade of crimson and black. Once his mask was in place Roman took his shades out and slipped them on. He rose and eyebrow as he turned to look at you.

“Roman, you look amazing.”

He smiled.

Butterflies came back to life. This would be amazing, you mused. The driver arrived then and he opened the door.

You squeezed Roman’s hand a final time, then you slid out and looked at the press who stood on either side of the carpet’s edges and snapped several photos. There was a sizable crowd but they were spaced backward according to the rules that were in place to allow places to open. For once the people were listening to Roman’s men.

You turned just so. It had been ages since you attended events and galas, so it actually felt good. Halfway you paused and as you began to turn, the crowd erupted.

Roman then slid out of the rolls and walked toward you. You shared a look. His eyes were brilliant flames. You could feel his excitement, it only further excited you.

The music was bouncing off the walls and despite not even being as full as usual, the voices and chatter were loud. It all hushed as the two of you walked in. People looked up from the tables or over from the bar.

He gripped your arm tight as he stopped with you. He glanced down at you, your eyes met. You put your hand over his and squeezed.

Looking around a final time you slipped your masks off.

“How are we all doing tonight?” Roman shouted.

Cheers erupted.

“It’s a been a long time to get here. Take the drinks you have, hold them up.”

The waitress came over with your drinks. You took your respective drinks.

He held his glass up high. “This is to all those that silent killer took. They will not be forgotten. Tonight we will party and continue to move forward. To surviving!!!” He shouted and then he and everyone else drank.

More cheers and claps. Roman and you beamed. Placing the empty glasses on the waitress’s tray. Still on his arm, you both made your way to his table.

He smirked at you as his eyes met yours before he continued to look out at it all. Seeing the pleasure that filled him of having his club back open made you incredibly happy.

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @blackmasque @mrskenobi19

[lizzielikeborden]

Part Of Your World

Request: I had a dream last night of the bau at karaoke... Spencer trying really hard to get out of it but then getting up and singing just for y/n 😂

Authors Note: I don’t know how good this is, but I enjoyed writing it. The song choice was based off a video I saw of mgg singing this song :)

Summary: You and your significant other Spencer Reid go to Rossi’s with his co workers from the BAU to do a little drinking and a little karaoke. But with a twist, it’s spin the wheel karaoke so once its your turn whatever song you land on you have to sing. Spencer Reid lands on a Disney classic.

“What game do you think we’ll be playing tonight?” You asked Spencer as he drove, navigating his way to Rossi’s. 

“Hm. Maybe charades? Those videos are always fun to re-watch when we aren’t drunk anymore.” He answered your question.

“Hotch does film everything, and so does Garcia.” You comment. 

“Yes but they do it for different reasons. Hotch does it for blackmail, Garcia does it because she loves us.” Spencer points out as he pulled into the driveway. 

He got out of the car, and before you could open your door he ran over and opened it for you. You giggled at his gesture and unbuckled your seatbelt. 

“Why thank you Spence.” You stepped out of the car and kissed his cheek. He held your small hand tight in his much larger one. 

Spencer lead you both to the door and opened it, he let you go in first. On the couch sat Morgan and Garcia, they sat close and were clearly having a little flirt battle. Emily, Rossi, and Jennifer looked to be setting up a game that required a wheel. Hotch talked to them as they did it and wrote down rules. Once Spencer shut the door Garcia stopped the flirt session and greeted you with,

“Pretty girl and pretty boy made it!” Which made everyone look up from what they were doing and acknowledge the two of you. You took the seats across from Garcia and Morgan, Rossi went back into his kitchen and got glasses.

“I’ll be right back, i’m going to help Rossi with drinks.” You patted Spencer’s thigh and got up. You talked with Rossi and helped organize drinks and such. Spencer however observed what a few of his co-workers were doing. Emily had sat up a wheel, Emily had set up a microphone with a stand, and Hotch plugged in some cords to an extension cord. That’s when he realized the game was some sort of karaoke. 

“Everyone sit around, we’ve got drinks!.” You yelled out with a happy tone. 

Everyone took seats around the room as you and Rossi passed out drinks and sat others on the coffee table and dining room table. As drinks flowed and conversations continued on and off within groups Garcia rose from her seat.

“Okay my loves, it’s looks like game time.” 

“Do the honors of explaining princess.” Morgan raised his glass at her with a wink. 

“So, you spin the wheel and this spinner will land on a song. Then the person who is DJ will play the karaoke version and you’ll sing. The person who is in the DJ seat will go next and pick a DJ after them.” She sat down in the DJ seat and picked Morgan as her victim. 

The wheel spun and landed on “Love Story by Taylor Swift”. He groaned and looked more than embarrassed. 

“I don’t even know the words!” He said, making an attempt to get out of it.

“Uh huh sure you don’t hot stuff.” Garcia retorted and turned on the music. 

He started off shaky and made up a lot of his own words and tried to read the words on the computer screen in front of him. But then the chorus hit and he knew every word. He danced around Garcia, even got down on one knee and sung his heart out. Eventually the end chorus came and he went down to Hotch who was the camera man and began to sing,

“I talked to your dad go pick out a white dress.”

He was definitely pretty drunk. After he was done the crowd went wild and gave him high fives and more drinks. 

“Kill it princess.” He handed the mic to Garcia.

“Y/N cmon you’re my DJ sugar.” You laughed and got up from your seat. 

Garcia spun the wheel, “Any Man of Mine By Shania Twain”. 

“Hit it!” She pointed at you and you started the music. Without a second thought she walked over to Morgan and started singing right at him. She was all over him and all up on him. Then she moved on to Rossi, who laughed so hard his alcohol came out his nose. She put on an amazing show. And then it was your turn. 

You looked at the wheel and saw a fun array of songs. They were written so tiny on small slivers paper attached to a wheel. You spun and landed in the Disney section, “I Won’t Say I’m In Love from Hercules.” 

“My DJ is Spencer.” He buried his head in his hands and shook his head. He shot you a glare when he looked up to see you as you gave him the come here motion with your finger. He reluctantly got up and sat at in the DJ chair. With some anger he hit the button and the music started. Man did you put on a good show.

You started by walking away with the microphone, and used the girls as the muses. Anytime apart of the song would come up when you needed back up singers you pointed the microphone towards them and sometimes even the boys. You danced around the living room until the end. You remembered in the movie how she laid on the rock. So, you made your way up to Spencer and laid down across his lap for the last line of the song. He blushed so hard and covered one hand with his face. You stood up as the song turned off. 

“Alright Spencer spin.”

“Do I really have to play this game.” He hadn’t risen out of the DJ chair. 

“Do it for me. Come on!” You gave him a pouty lip and held his hand. The rest of the gang shouted things like do it for your girl, pretty boy cmon, spencer!!

He let out a sigh and got up to spin the wheel. You let go of his hand and sat down. With the spin of the wheel he said 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

“What did you get Spencer?” You asked him as you sat down.

“Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid.” 

Everyone burst into laughter as he sighed and shook his head. 

“Pick your DJ.” Morgan said through laughs.

“Hotch.” 

Hotch stood up and handed the camera to Morgan who was more than happy to film this. Hotch started the music and Spencer started in. It was incredible. He started out and stood still, barely saying anything. But then, oh but then, he started to feel better. And with his tone deaf singing voice he got into it. He came down to you and serenated you with the song and his voice cracks. He got down on his knees and touched your face and sung his heart out. Everyone was laughing, and you all started singing along with your tone deaf lover. When he was done he handed the microphone to Hotch. 

“That was amazing Spencer.” You pulled him back down into the seat next to you and gave him a big kiss. 

“You owe me.” 

And then Hotch started singing and oh boy..

[evolmaze]

truth or drink

summary -  truth or dare never works out, but when you add drinking things just get worse

paring - han x reader ft. twice, the rest of stray kids, bts, and blackpink

genre - fluff, angst, comfort | friends to potential-lovers!au, nonidol!au

word count - 4.6k words

warnings - slight harassment and bullying by O.C. against reader, drinking, very minimal slut shaming of O.C., swearing

 masterlist

“I don’t even wanna go tonight,” Dahyun said, laying on your bed. “Who’s even going to be there?”

“The usual crowd I think, us girls, Han and his friends, Tae and his friends, and I think Jennie and Lisa are coming too,” you conclude, putting the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen Jennie in ages,” Dahyun commented, suddenly sitting up. “I suppose I can make an appearance.”

“That’s more like it,” you laughed, turning around. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely stunning!” she cooed, “Han isn’t gonna know what he’s missing.”

You scoffed, “I’m not doing this for him, I’m doing this for myself.”

“Sure, sure, and you’re absolutely not wearing that blue sweater because he told you it looked nice on you last week?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” you declared, though a slight red hue appeared on your face. “Come one we gotta go soon anyway. Party starts in 20 minutes.”

“No one ever shows up right away, Mina and Jihyo said they aren’t coming till closer to eight.” Dahyun whined, going into the closer to change.

“Yeah, but I promised Bang Chan and Felix I’d help set up, so unless you wanna find your own way there, you’re stuck with me,” you laughed, grabbing your jacket off your desk. Dahyun groaned, but reappeared minutes later, ready to go.

“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

______

“y/n, Dahyun, so glad you could be here to help!” Felix said as he opened the door, quick to grab a couple of bags from you and Dahyun. “Please, please come on in!”

“Thanks, Lix,” you said, closing the door behind. “Any word on when people are planning to show up?”

“It varies really, Tae and his friends said sometime around eight-ish, Changbin and Minho said they’d be here around 7:30, I’m assuming the girls will be here around then as well?”

“Yeah, Sana just texted me now, said they’ll be here in about 20,” Dahyun said, as she started taking bottles out of her backpack and adding them to the drink table.

“Oh that’s awesome, I’m so excited to see them!” you cheered, going over to help her. 

“Excited as you are to see Han?” she teased, nudging your shoulder as she poured a bottle of vodka into a giant container you had bought specifically for wop. Across the room, Felix chuckled as he untangled some cords for the sound system. 

“Oh my god, please shut up,” you plead, your face a slight hue of red as you unscrewed your own bottle. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Sure, sure. Felix did you know that she literally hasn’t stopped talking about this party all week, seems a little coincidental that this also happens to be the first party Han has been able to come to since he left to go visit his parents,”

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you muttered, unable to keep a straight face as the two of them laughed. Dahyun may have had a point, Han had left two weeks ago to visit his parents, which meant you hadn’t seem him for a couple weeks due to conflicting schedules. You missed him, missed his jokes, his vibrant personality. You guys had met about six months ago when Dahyun invited you to a party at her place, and ever since then you guys had hit it off.

“Oh leave the poor girl alone won’t you?” Chan said as he entered the room, laptop in hand. “So she has a thing for the kid, it’s not like you two haven’t ever had a crush.”

“Yeah,” you chimed in, gracious for Chan’s appearance. “If I remember correctly Lix you had quite the infatuation for a certain barista down at Two Rivers, right?” You grinned at his red face, and inability to rebuttal, “and Dahyun,” you said, facing her. “Don’t make me bring up the infamous crush you had last fall-”

“Okay!” Dahyun said suddenly, smacking a hand over your mouth. “Point taken! Sorry y/n, you know I think it’s cute that you like him, I think y’all would be cute together! I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “Apology accepted, sorry for bringing up your past, I promise not to do it again, unless circumstances call for it.” you grinned, running away from her as she chased you with an empty bottle.

______

Music blared from the speakers in the backyard as you sat with Felix and Sana, currently exchanging your thoughts on the latest season of stranger things. “There’s no way Hopper’s actually dead,” you argued, taking a drink. “Why else would they include that clip of him in the promo?”

“I agree!” Sana said, “Plus that’d be so cruel for them to kill him off like that just as he and El were developing a real relationship!”

“Right, and I’d rather die than not see Hopper and Joyce get together, literally made for each other!” Felix agreed, the three of you laughed at his sudden outburst, but sudden stopped as Sana whispered.

“Who invited them here?” you turned towards the entrance of the house, and spotted exactly who she was talking about. Currently talking to Chan and Jennie were two girls who you had briefly met your freshmen year, they were awful; mean and cruel just for their own enjoyment. Unfortunately, at a school so small, circles overlapped, and somehow they ended up at this party.

“God, I hate them,” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. You turned back around. “Think they’ll stay long?”

“Well Aria has a huge crush on Chan I think,” Felix said thoughtfully, “So yeah unfortunately.”

“Fantastic,” you muttered again, annoyed that you even had to be in the same room as them. It wasn’t that Aria and her friend Soon were ever mean to you directly. In fact, you even used to be friends with Soon a couple years ago, but times change, and so do people. While you had learned more about yourself and learned from your wrongdoings, Soon found Aria and together they adhered to this “preppy-high-school-mean-girl” bullshit attitude that never really wore off. 

“Oh don’t be sad, y/n! Look who just showed up,” Dahyun said suddenly as she appeared behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at her as she sat down beside you, but turned around anyway, already knowing who had shown up.

Han Jisung walked through the doors and you hated to admit it, but your heart leaped out of your chest. It had been so long since you had seen him, and not to be cliché, but he was literally glowing. He looked amazing, his hair was still that same raven color you loved. You remembered when he had first dyed it two months ago, he was nervous to go back to a dark color after being blonde for so long, but you had assured him he looked good in any hair color.

“y/n, earth or y/n, hello?” Felix said, waving his hand in front of your face, you jumped, not realizing you had zoned out. Sana and Dahyun laughed as you blushed. “Sorry what?”

“I asked if you wanted to go grab a new drink?” Dahyun laughed, and you look down at your drink.

‘Yeah sure,” you agreed, laughing at yourself as you folllowed her back inside. You crossed the yard, mentally preparing youself to walk by Han, it was dumb, really. He was your friend, there was nothing to be personal about, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t till a weeks ago that you had even developed these feelings for him, and if it wasn’t for a drunken night at Chan’s, no one would have even known you had felt that way, but when you’re drunk, your filter leaves you, and that night you spilled the beans to Dahyun, Sana, Felix, and Chan over a game of truth or dare. You tried to keep it lowkey, you did, but as you got to know him better, it was becoming harder and harder to avoid it.

Dahyun passed Han and Changbin as they talked on the porch, as you did the same someone grabbed your wrist, “y/n!” Han said, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t think you could pass me and not say anything!”

You laughed, and looked at Dahyun who wiggled her eyebrows. “Changbin,” she said, looking past you. “Wanna help me grab some drinks?”

“Sure,” he agreed, brushing past you. “Nice to see you, y/n.”

“You too,” you said, taking his seat next to Han. “So, how was home?”

“It was great,” he said. ‘It was nice to see family and celebrate my grandma’s birthday, but I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m glad you’re back too,” you agreed. “Someone needs to be the life of the party.”

“Oh, you don’t think that Jin already has that handled?” he asked, and you both looked into the house, where he was currently, furiously rapping some song on the karaoke machine.

You laughed, “I’ll admit that he’s pretty chaotic when he wants to be, but there’s only one person I know who enjoys starting conga lines at the most random of times. Remember when you started one when we walked to the grocery store? People were so confused!” you said, and he laughed. 

“Well I’m glad someone appreciates my antics,” he grinned, taking a sip of his own drink. “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

“Nothing too exciting, just the usual.”

“Bullshit, I follow your photography page, that place you went last week looked incredible, you’ll have to take me sometime,” he said, nudging your shoulder.

You blushed, “Ahh thanks, it was so pretty, a super nice hike too, you’d love it. The sunset there was incredible!”

“Well we’ll have to make sure we go at night then,” he mused, and you grinned.

“Oh absolutely, when are you free next week?” you asked, hoping to set something up, hanging out with Han one-on-one was a rare and fun occasion.

“Let me check,” he said, pulling out his phone. About to pull yours out, you suddenly hear the music cut out. A chorus of boos and cheers resounded throughout the party.

“Sorry everyone!” Chan said, mic in hand. “Aria and Soon here wanted me to let everyone know, that if you’re interested, there’s a game of truth or dare happening over here.”

You rolled your eyes, poor Chan, you looked over at Han. “Should we go save Chan from an evening of Aria’s torment and neverending questions?”

“Good idea,” he agreed, standing. “Ayo Seungmin, I.N., you guys wanna go play a couple rounds of truth or dare.”

“Why not?” Seungmin said, standing up, with I.N. following suite. Changbin and Dahyun appeared next to you, with a handful of drinks.

“So true or dare, huh?” Dahyun said. “Classic Aria.”

“It truly is her signature,” you agreed, grabbing two drinks from her and handing one to Han. “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

You made your way over to the firepit where Aria and Chan sat, surround by some others. Jennie and Lisa sat to the left of Chan, while Seungmin and I.N. sat next to them. Soon was next to Aria, and Mina, Jihyo and Sana were next to her. You took a seat in between Dahyun and Han, and Changbin in between you three and Felix. The group waited as a few more people piled in, Jimin and Jungkook taking sets behind Changbin on the brick wall, and Hoseok and Tae taking up seats on the wall as well behind Chan.

‘“Let’s get started, shall we?” Aria said, scanning the group. “Felix, truth or dare?”

______

Numerous rounds had passed since you first sat down, and the rules were simple. If you didn’t want to answer a truth or do a dare, you had to take a shot, but the catch was you only got three shots per game. So far people had jumped into the pool while fully clothed, made out with random party goers, and made prank calls to people who weren’t at the party. So far, you had told everyone which professor you would sleep with if given the chance, called your good friend Solar to tell her her cat had ran away, and told everyone about your most embarrassing moment from 5th grade.

Currently, Tae was attempted to walk along the entire edge of the pool without falling in. “You got this, Tae!” Jimin cheered, getting everyone to start a chant of encouragement. You did your best ro hold in your laughter as Tae slipped at the last second and fell into the pool. A chorus of laughs resounded, and the game continued on.

By now, some people had left to get drinks or eat food, so the only people left were you, Han, Dahyun, Chan, Aria, Soon, Felix, Sana, Seungmin, and I.N.

“Aria, truth or dare?” Soon asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Dare, obviously.” Aria said, a tone of cockiness in her voice. “Truth’s are loser who enjoy being an open book,” she commented, glancing in your direction. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink.

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered under your breath, across the fire, Chan chuckled, amused at your lack of filter coming out.

“What was that?” Aria said, obviously irritated that Chan had laughed at your retort.

“Oh, nothing.” you said, looking up at her as she glared daggers into your eyes. “Soon what’s her dare?”

“Aria, I dare you to make out with Chan!” she said excitedly, and the rest of the group, minus Aria, groaned.

“Shocker,” Dahyun said, and you looked over at Chan who looked less than thrilled to be in this position. 

“Hey don’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do,” you chimed in, worried about Aria’s influence over your friend.

“It’s okay, y/n.” Chan said, taking a quick shot. “I can handle her.”

You sighed, and took a long sip of your drink as the two of them made out for the next 15 seconds or so, as they pulled apart Aria looked at you. “Yeah, y/n, Channie’s a big boy, he can handle himself. Plus he’d probably prefer a girl with experience anyway, unlike you.”

You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time that night, “Sorry Chan, just looking out for you, didn’t want you to get an STD or something.”

Alcohol had this affect on you that sometimes you didn’t realize what you were saying until you had said it, as the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them due to the way Aria started you down, a look of hatred in her eyes. Around you, everyone lost their minds at your reply, some congratulating you on your comeback, others looking shocked the words even came out of your mouth. You weren’t sure how to feel, on one hand Aria deserved a taste of her own medicine for how she belittled every person she ever met that didn’t meet her standards, but also you were never one to slut-shame, so who knows what came over you. Beside you, Dahyun was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, and Han looked so shocked you weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or bad thing.

Aria narrowed her eyes at you, unsure of what had come over you, but sure of what her next move was going to be, ”y/n, truth or dare?”

“Uh-” you started. 

“Don’t bother answering, I’ll pick for you since I already know the answer: truth. y/n, tell me, what’s it like to be a lonely virgin, with no romantics pursuits besides having a crush on a close friend who doesn’t even think of you that way?”

The group quieted down pretty quick after that, you stiffened, shocked she had said that, confused how she even knew that, but mostly concerned of where this was going to go. You were sure that if someone took a photo of you now, you would look like a ghost. Aria cocked an eyebrow at you, “Oh y/n,” she feigned concerned. “Cat got your tongue? Need some help with that? Must be tough to like someone who doesn’t even think of you that way, right? Who goes away for weeks and doesn’t even text you? Let alone think of you in any other way besides a friend. You can call me a slut all you want, but at least I get the things I want, I don’t sit around and wait for them to happen like some stupid hopeless romantic. At least boys answer my texts, what do you get? A pity reply to one of your numerous attempts at a real relationship with him?”

“Aria, shut the fuck up.” Dahyun said beside you, you were frozen in spot, so utterly humiliated, but also amazed at her level of intel, how the hell did she find out?

“Why?” Aria asked. “It’s okay for y/n to blatantly slut-shame me in front of my crush, that I can’t expose her in front of hers?”

“That’s not the point-’” Dahyun said, anger seething from her body. You put a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you said, trying you best to remain calm. “I mean she right, right? What I did was a low-bow, and I’m truly sorry, Aria.” you said, trying to look as sincere as possible despite your mental stability rapidly declining. “It’s only fair you attack right back, but if you don’t mind, I think we’re pretty even now; I think I’ve heard enough.” You finished, your voicing cracking slightly at the end. You quickly got up, and made your way inside the house, ignoring the calls from the rest of the group.

As you entered the house, you got some looks from everyone you passed. Some concerned, some confused, and some just straight up lost as to why you were running through the house crying.

It was your own fault this had happened, you knew Aria was the type to have dirt on everyone, so why didn’t you think about the fact that’d she have dirt on you? You shouldn’t have even responded to her, no matter how much she got under your skin, Aria always won every battle she started, but you never expected her to rebuttal with things so cruel and close to your heart. You just hoped people were too distracted to piece together the underlying meaning.

Your phone buzzed rapidly in your pocket, a call from Dahyun on the screen. You sighed, and picked up the call. “Hey-”

“Are you okay? I swear to god I’ll kill her for saying those things about you! That was so fucked up, you made one comment and she spilled your entire load of dirty laundry for everyone to hear. Where are you? We should go home, forget-”

“Dahyun, slow down.” you laughed, feeling a little less awful than you did before. “I’m in the bathroom, I’ll be back out in a little bit, no need to have Aria ruin this whole party for us.”

“Oh that’s good, I’m glad your okay,” she said. “Aria’s gone anyway, after her little performance, Soon and Chan convinced her to go home for the night. The bitch was too intoxicated to form a coherent thought after she used them all on you.”

You laughed at that, “Serves her right, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good, bye!” she agreed, hanging up the phone. You looked in the mirror, wiping off your mascara that had run onto your face. You pondered how the rest of the night would go, everyone had heard the embarrassing details of your life, but on the other hand, fuck Aria and fuck her for trying to ruin a perfectly good night. Yeah she every right to be upset at you, but unlike her, you could bounce back from this, you determined. How would things go with Han? You had no idea, you suppose it depending on his ability to read between the lines, and whether or not he was too intoxicated to do that or not. 

“It was what it is at this point, I guess.” you said to yourself, accepting your fate, whatever it may be. It was odd, you had always imagined that your crush finding out you like them would be mortifying, but you felt oddly calm, maybe it’s because you knew thing would be okay. You had great friends, supportive friends who would stand by you no matter what, and even if Han did know, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be mean about it, maybe weirded out, but that was only temporary, cause at least then you’d have closure and could move on. 

You exited the bathroom, ready to get another drink and hang with Dahyun and Felix, and everyone else if they were still around.

“y/n!” Sana yelled from the end of the hallway, running up to you. “Are you okay? God I can’t believe Aria did that, she’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, really.” you assured her. “Aria’s a bitch, but it’s not like I didn’t have it coming with what I had said to her.”

“I guess, but she said some really personal things that weren’t her business at all. Everyone knows that she gets around here and there, she even admitted it! You weren’t saying things we didn’t already know,” she said, looking annoyed. “But if you’re fine, then so am I. Wanna grab another drink?” 

“Yes, please.” you laughed, following her into the living room. As you were there getting drinks, you assured many people that were at the fire that you were okay, and you didn’t need them to kill Aria for you.

“y/n!” you stopped talking to Sana and Changbin, and turned around to see Chan, he looked frazzled, a look of worry on his face. “Can we talk?” he asked, you bid your goodbyes to Sana and Changbin, and followed Chan back outside.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“First I wanna say I’m so sorry for Aria’s behavior, I know it doesn’t mean much, but she was pretty drunk, but I’m not sorry that I didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m the reason she was even here, and it’s not cool that she did that to you.”

“Chan, Chan, it’s fine, really. Aria isn’t your responsibility, you’re not her dad or boyfriend, so you couldn’t have predicted she would have done that. I accept your apology, but there’s no need for it, truly.” you assured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good. The other reason I wanted to talk to you was because of that,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the fire. At the fire was Han, Felix and Dahyun sat with him, but he looked distant. It didn’t seem like he was paying them any attention. 

“Is he okay?” you asked. You felt bad, this was your fault.

“Dahyun, Felix, and I have been trying to talk to him, get him to come inside, but he isn’t really speaking to anyone. We all figured he might talk to you; but only if you’re comfortable doing so.” Chan explained, you nodded. “Of course, he’s still my friend.”

Chan and you walked over to the fire, and as soon as Felix and Dahyun saw you were with him, they stood up, leaving with Chan. As Dahyun passed you, she whispered in your ear. “I think he’s just confused is all.” You nodded, understanding.

Han didn’t look up as you sat down, just kept staring into the fire. You weren’t sure what to do, it wasn’t as if you had done any malicious to him in any way, but you’d also understand if he didn’t want anything to do with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence; he didn’t look up. You sighed, “I know you must feel really weird with everything that Aria had said, I swear I didn’t know she was going to say that stuff at all; I honestly don’t know how she found out, but I’m sorry that that indirectly put you in a weird position.”

“Why are you sorry?” he muttered. “It’s not like you asked her to do it.”

“No I didn’t, but what she said involved you, and that’s something you should have heard from me, privately, not in front of all our friends at a bonfire,” you reasoned, nervously chuckling at the hilarity of it all. Who would have thought this was how you night would end? “So, I’m sorry.”

Han put his head in hands, running his fingers through his hair. He sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I-uh, I don't know,” you stuttered, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t want to make things weird, change our friendship in any way. I like being your friend, and we hadn’t been friends for that long when I first realized, so I choose not to say anything in order to keep being your friend. If I’m honest, I thought I’d get over it by now.”

“You thought something like that would end our friendship?” he asked, looking up at you. “y/n, that’s crazy.”

“Well, I don't know!” you exclaimed, “How could I be sure how you’d react? We aren’t exactly best friends, and I hadn’t seen you in awhile, so it felt awkward to hang around after she had said that. Figured it would be easier to leave so you wouldn’t be obligated to talk about it if you didn’t want to. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or made things confusing, that wasn’t my intention, I just didn't know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it, feelings are weird, and you can never be sure how things will turn out, but I still wish you would have said something, don’t you trust me?”

“Han, we may be friends, and I do trust you, but this is probably the one thing I wouldn’t have told you about.” you laughed awkwardly. “Usually people don’t tell their crushes they like them till they’re sure their crush feels the same.”

He blushed, “Ah yeah, that’s a good point, but hey! Who’s to say I don’t feel the same.”

You paused, “You like me?” What was happening right now?

“Well maybe, I don’t know!” he laughed nervously turning an even darker shade of red, and you chuckled. “I feel like we’ve become better friends lately, and I like having you around, like spending time with you. I don’t wanna rush into anything, but I would be down to start hanging out more one on one.”

You smiled, “I feel the same. I don’t want to rush things either, and I’d rather us both be on the same page about it if this does become something in the future.”

“Well I hope it at least means we’ll become better friends,” he said hopefully. 

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling a weight being lifted off you shoulders.

“But I could be okay with us being in a relationship too, I suppose.” he mused, pretending to look thoughtful. You laughed, and lightly kicked his foot.

“I suppose I could be okay with that too,” you joked, and he grinned. “Well if you’re up for it, the offer to go hiking still stands.”

“Let’s do it!” he said excitedly. “We can take some sick pics at the top too!”

“Oh absolutely,” you grinned. “I’d love nothing more.” Han smiled at you, a glint of something promising in his eyes. Everything was going to be fine, you could feel it.

______

a/n: hope y’all like this one, it took a different turn than I thought it was going to, but I still like how it turned out!

[troubatrain]

sober - m.barzal (pt. four)

a/n: hello this is the last repost until the new part!!

Three - Five

Mat Barzal was completely and utterly fucked. There was no way around it, you had him in the palm of your hand and you didn’t even care. Sure, the first time was an accident, and Mat definitely didn’t regret it but he wasn’t sure if he had your number he would have called you again. But, when he saw you running through the halls at Madison Square Garden - Mat was focused on you and you only. The marks he left on her that were uncovering themselves while you power walked past him. In a pencil skirt that was living rent free in his dirtiest dreams. Even then, the second time he tried to get you, it was because he had just lost a rivalry game for the team you work for and your friends were barely twenty feet away. He wanted to be the best, and there wasn’t much that could stop him when he set his mind to it.

After that, things felt different. Mat liked a chase, he was competitive as hell and if you were a prize he was going to win it. He’d never let you know that, especially because if you knew he referred to you as a prize - Mat would be a dead man. You were the poison Mat was dying to drink, and you were intoxicating. You were all the things Mat loved to hate, wrapped up in a bow addressed just for him.

“Let me take you out,” Mat mutters, his lips pressing kisses into your back, still inside you while you both let yourselves relax for just a moment, basking in the glow of a sunny Sunday afternoon. You’d both landed late the night before, Mat from Arizona and you from Toronto, making a Sunday afternoon in bed tearing eachother apart a necessity.

“I will pay you to never ask me that again,” You sigh, internally gathering the strength to push Mat off you so you could leave. A nap and a second round sounded like a dream, but staying too long would mean something - and that wasn’t allowed.

“What if there’s some stakes?” Mat tries again, pinning your arms above your head, much like he’d done when he was balls deep in you ten minutes ago. You hummed in response, waiting for whatever dumb idea Mat had up his sleeve, “We can play a game.”

“I’m listening,” You muse, letting yourself enjoy the feeling of Mat’s lips ghosting over your skin while he spoke.

“We go out, whoever gets the most numbers at the end of the night wins,” Mat suggests, “I’ll go down on you if you win and you’ll give me head if I win.”

“What if I meet someone I want to go home with more than you?” You ask, turning around and giving Mat a smirk.

“You won’t,” Mat smiles confidently, as if he was so positive he really was the best.

“What if you meet someone you want to take home more than me?” You counter, turning around in his arms, “What if you meet someone I want to take home more than you?”

“That big brain of yours works way too hard,” Mat chuckles, his laugh bouncing off the walls of his bedroom.

“Someone’s gotta think around here Mat.”

**

You were going to win, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter if Mat had years of playing an extremely competitive sport under his designer belt, he’d never met you. You were competitive by nature, maybe it had something to do with your family. Maybe it was because you’re one of three women in your department with the Rangers, and there were only a handful of others. Maybe it was because Mat was smug and you wanted him to just shut his mouth for once. Either way, you were in the zone. Your heels were high, and your head was held higher while you strutted down the street to a bar that was only a few blocks away from your apartment.

“I would have had my Uber swing by you,” Mat suggests, giving a once over while you walked over to him, “I don’t know if we would have made it here though.”

“Like I’ve said before, you’re not going near my building-” You start to remind him, a condensing tone to your voice that was hushed by his hand waving you off.

“I know, I know. Damn,” Mat cuts you off, his voice lowering while he grabbed your hand, “You’re really trying to win, am I that good in bed?”

“You’re one to talk,” You scoff, internally trying to stop the heat you could feel rushing to your cheeks when the words slipped from your mouth. Mat looked good, a pair of jeans that were showing off his incredibly toned thighs, reminding you of the filthy dream you had about riding them. A button down that was missing a few buttons on purpose, a shiny silver chain hanging down that you’d yet to see.

“Was that a compliment? Do you think I’m hot?” Mat laughs, a wide smile on his face that he finally caught you.

“Objectively, yes, I think you’re hot,” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as if it were your armor from letting any other nice things about Mat that you did enjoy to slip out.

“Wow,” Mat says, pulling you into his chest, “You’re pretty cute when you’re nice.”

“And what about when I’m not nice?” You ask, your cheek pressed against Mat’s chest. 

“You’re hot as fuck,” Mat whispers, “You going to lose tonight.”

“You’re on Barz,” You say, wagging your finger at him while you disappeared into the crowd to find your first victim.

By the time a few hours had passed by, you had almost fifteen new numbers in your phone, five drinks you didn’t pay for, and a confidence that you were winning this stupid game. You look around the bar, the man in front of you droning on about whatever basketball game was on TV, and you spotted Mat. Mat who had a girl practically hanging off him, but his attention had been directed at you.

“Hey, I’ve got to run,” You excuse yourself, ignoring anything the guy in front of you was saying and walking back over to Mat.

“Oh hey look it’s my girlfriend,” Mat announces, like he’d been surprised to see you. The girl next to him was giving you daggers, as if you were the one who stopped her from her chance with Mat, who’s eyes were begging you to just go along with it, “Babe, we should head out?”

“Yeah we should,” You agree, letting Mat grab your hand and lead you outside.

The moment the cool winter air of Manhattan hit you both, you turned to each other and smiled. Mat’s laugh came first, the laugh that echoed even outside because it was so loud, followed by yours while you both doubled over in laughter. Mat finally stops, catching his breath and staring at you intently for a moment, like he was thinking for the first time in his life, “I think you won.”

“How do you know?” You ask, wondering how long his eyes had been on you.

“Because I got two numbers and then I couldn’t stop watching you,” Mat admits, “It was impressive.”

“I know,” You say simply, it was your turn to be the smug one, “You going to hold up your end of the deal or what?”

The ride back to Mat’s apartment was quiet, at least on your end. Mat spent the entire ride talking about the Isles to your Uber driver, who was over the moon to have Mat Barzal himself in their car. You drowned out the noise, scrolling through your phone until a text came through from Chris.

Are you going to meet us out or are you still with your secret boyfriend?

It was supposed to be playful, not the guilt tripping text it was. Mat wasn’t your boyfriend, not by any means, but he was a secret you were hiding with a lock and key. Chris was probably the only one smart enough to realize something was off, especially when you’d come into work with some awful story about a date to remind Chris just how bad dating was. You sigh, leaving it on read and just ignoring the icky feeling that was in your stomach.

“Something’s wrong,” The words fell out of Mat’s mouth the second you stepped into the elevator to his apartment.

“Nothing’s wrong,” You deny it, but it was clear that text had soured your mood. You’d usually revel in the fact that you beat Mat, and there would be no way you wouldn’t have been a little bit of a sore winner. 

Mat sighs, leaning his head against the elevator. His hands were in his pockets while he bit his lip, thinking for a minute, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You ask, because there was no way that Mat, who in the small time that you’d known him, hasn’t just accepted anything you said.

“Okay,” Mat shrugs, opening the door to his place and letting you in, “Listen, you don’t owe me anything, and that’s cool. Besides you’d die before you told me what’s bothering you, so how about you come into my room. I’ll make you cum, and whatever’s bothering you won’t matter until tomorrow.”

Mat was right. Ew, don’t ever think that again. But he was right in the sense that he didn’t mean anything. Mat was a distraction, and you could put anyones head on that beautiful body of his and it would still mean the same thing - nothing.

“I did win tonight,” You say, dragging out your words.

“Anything you want in particular winner?” Mat says, dropping onto his bed and pulling his shirt from behind his head.

You bite your lip, a small fantasy that always lived in your head was pushing its way through your brain. Mat smirks, as if he could read your mind, “There’s one thing, it’s dumb, you know what nevermind let’s just fuck so I can go home and-”

Mat’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t want to be your fuck buddy Y/N, I want to be your fuck soulmate.”

“Barz, I’m really going to stop coming over if you keep saying weird shit like that,” You threaten, given it wasn’t the first time since your little fling started that you’d said that. Mat told you the weirdest things, and you never knew if it was on purpose and meant anything or if Mat was just a little dumb.

“I mean it, I want to know all the kinky shit Y/N,” Mat says gently, knowing he probably crossed some weird unspoken rule by mentioning the word soulmate to someone he was just fucking on the low.

“I want to sit on, uh, you know,” You say, any bedroom confidence you’d gained over the years went right out the windows in Mat’s apartment. 

“You want to sit on my face don’t you?” Mat smirks, crossing his toned arms across his chest.

“Yes, I told you it’s dumb-” You rush out, a blush creeping up your cheeks while you tried to find some invisible shell in crawl into and never have to look Mat in the eyes again.

“Get over here,” Mat chuckles, “I told you, fuck soulmates Y/N.”

And so you did, Mat had somehow managed to take a term that should have disgusted you to your core and made it mean something that was weirdly intimate. Mat was your secret, and that secret was finding new ways to break down the walls you spent so much building around you. You slipped out of Mat’s bed like you did every night, turning around to give him one more look before you headed back to your place. A part of

you screamed to just stay, tuck your head into that broad chest and play with the chain hanging from his neck. The other part, your logical side, was telling you to run away and never come back - but something told you that you weren’t going to do that either. You woke up the next morning with a guilty feeling in your stomach and a text from Mat staring back at you.

You looked so good on top of me babe, couldn’t keep my eyes off you.

You were screwed.