#any attempts to imagine what life would be like after graduation are just.. dark and bleak and empty

[hauntedveil]

In just a few days, I will be going back to school, and it's almost surreal to reflect on the person I was just a year ago…

A year ago, I started my graduate studies at a large prestigious university. Since then I’ve:

1. Started transitioning- Embracing my natural hair was a significant change for me. Since childhood, my hair had been regularly chemically straightened, and I never knew what it actually looked like in its natural state. After years of dealing with dry, brittle hair that was falling out at the roots, I decided to stop all chemical processing and allow my hair to grow as it was meant to. This journey has been challenging; filled with tearful nights and more moments of low confidence than not. I still struggle with my self-image, as my long, straight hair was deeply tied to my sense of identity and beauty. As I work on regrowing my hair, I’m gradually coming to terms with my changing appearance. I’m attempting to redefine my standards of beauty, and I trust that, in time, I’ll feel like myself again—beautiful in a new way.

2- went vegetarian. This might not come as a surprise to myself, considering I've spent much of my life already limiting parts of my diet. For a few years, I was pescatarian. When I started college and began cooking for myself, the only meat I would occasionally prepare was bacon for breakfast. Raw meat has always genuinely repulsed me. There wasn’t a specific reason or a pivotal moment that led me to fully embrace vegetarianism; it was more of a gradual shift. Perhaps part of me was drawn to the idea of doing something that might make me seem more interesting, and I also believed that being vegetarian would encourage healthier eating habits. With some heart issues in my past, I’ve become more intentional about my diet. I don’t hold anything against eating meat; I simply recognize that avoiding it is better for the environment—and ultimately, better for my health as well.

3. Became goth- I had never been educated about subcultures. Growing up black meant that any music that wasn’t rap or RnB was deemed “white music”. In middle school, I was bullied heavily for liking One Direction and Justin Bieber. So naturally, I hid my love for Fall Out Boy. There were no outwardly alt people at my school, so I was never exposed to subcultures. While I had friends who shared my taste in music, we were unaware that our interests were part of a broader subculture. I mostly listened to emo and metal, but without knowing any better, I labeled anything alternative as “rock,” unaware that it was more nuanced. Last year, while watching YouTube I stumbled across a goth makeup tutorial and decided to watch because I had been wanting to learn how to make more dramatic/dark makeup work on my features. From there, I was recommended more videos, and my interest was piqued. What made something goth? I began researching and soon found myself deep in the history and musical intricacies of the goth genre. To my surprise, I discovered that goth was a music-based subculture rooted in the very music I had been listening to for years. I continued educating myself and found I deeply resonated with the subculture and its ideologies. The rest is as you know it.

4. Got a piercing- now this may seem tame to a lot of you, but I remember being in middle school, swearing I’d never get any piercings or tattoos. I never imagined it would be something I’d want. It didn’t help that I’ve always had a huge fear of needles—I feel so bad for my piercer; I’m sure I stressed her out. So why did I get a piercing? I love how it looks. I’d been wearing a fake piercing now and then for a while, and I always felt prettier with it. I was hesitant to get a real one because I didn’t want to look too alternative at school. But at some point, I just thought, screw it. Learning so much about the anti-establishment and anti-conformist roots of punk and goth made me realize—why was I trying so hard to please people who have never accepted me? People who have never had a positive opinion of me? I got a piercing because I’m tired of hiding who I am. I’m a little weird and unstable, and who cares?

It's incredible how much can change in a year. I'm so far from the girl who was too afraid to express herself at a new school, still grappling with the sadness and disappointment of a lonely, unfulfilling college experience. I am no longer that girl, and yet, in some ways, I still am. I see her every time I look in the mirror. I remind her that it's okay if people see me now. They *will* see me, and I won't shrink because of it. I won’t. I'm so proud of her, and I know she’s proud of me too.

I’m excited to start school again, knowing that this time, I’ll be entirely myself.

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[pinkteapotwriting]

Not so Innocent desires

Wolfstar x fem!reader

Warning : This is so filthy dear lord, explicit sexual content, Sub!fem reader, spanking, oral, innocence kink and I think that’s it

Just good ol fashioned smut

Summary : Turns out you Remus and Sirius want to treat you a certain way, it takes some special kind of convincing from your end though.

Word count : 3164

The lovely @fionanovasleftnut had a wonderful idea that I couldn’t resist writing about. I’m not sure with how this one turned out but I hope I did the idea justice. xXx

---

Being a family friend of the Weasleys had its perks. You always had someone to stick up for you, always had someone who could make you laugh, and you always had a home with them, wherever that may be. You had moved out on your own as soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, but it seemed that wasn’t the way to start your life as a young adult. The wizarding world was at war and Molly Weasley was insistent that one of her adopted daughters should not be defenseless living alone. 

You had tried to reassure her that you would be fine, you even approached your most likely allies.

“Fred, George please tell her I’ll be fine. You understand right?” They only chuckled at your cute pout and brushed your concerns aside.

So no. No one was willing to risk the parting of their lovely Y/N.

You were too kindhearted, too sweet, too pure. A ray of sunshine in these dark times, too precious to leave unprotected. 

You had been so angry at first, but your anger was soon turned into bashfulness as you were met by two very attractive men. Of course you knew Professor Lupin, he was your teacher and even now words from his mouth directed your way made heat rise to your face.

 Then there was Sirius Black. His long black hair framed his face perfectly. His stormy grey eyes made you completely weak at the knees. 

Everything about these two men left you flustered, Remus’s quick wit, Sirius’s hearty laugh, the knowing glances they’d share, Remus’s scars you just wanted to spend hours tracing, and Sirius’s ring clad fingers that tapped impatiently against the table. For being in Azkaban for 12 years his hands sure looked strong and capable. 

It was a blessing and a curse really. You got to admire two very attractive men, yet you couldn’t manage much more than bashful nods at times. That didn’t stop them from approaching you however. They were so kind and welcoming, so much so that you took up Sirius’s offer to stay there rather than at the Weasleys. He knew you valued your alone time and got anxious in large groups so he thought you’d appreciate your own room rather than crowding in with the Weasleys. It was all good and well.

Except for how often you found yourself rubbing your thighs together at night to ease some sort of tension. Nothing could stop the wetness that pooled in your underwear at the memory of Sirius clenching his jaw in anger as Snape talked, or the way Remus calmed him down by rubbing his hand up and down his thigh. So once again that night you found yourself with that familiar ache you just didn’t know how to satisfy on your own. Your fingers just weren’t good enough. You got up in a huff to get some water at an attempt to calm down. You slipped down the hallway silently, but the sound of a low moan coming from Sirius’s room stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar and although you knew you shouldn’t peek in, the dull throbbing of your clit convinced you to stay. You had to stifle your own moan at the sight in front of you. 

Sirius was sitting on the edge of his four poster king sized bed while Remus was on his knees between his legs jacking him off.

“Fuck Pads, how was it already this hard I’ve hardly touched you.”

“It’s not my fault! Blame Y/N with those stupid lips she bites. And her big doe eyes and and- fuck Moony that feels so good.” 

Remus grinned at the chance to tease Sirius.

“Not as good as Y/N would feel though right? Bet you’d love to have her little hands wrapped around your cock huh. Imagine if you got to stretch out her perfect little pussy. She’s so fucking innocent, so pure”

“I wanna ruin her god she’s pretty, but at the same time she’s so precious I don’t wanna taint her. She deserves something more gentle and sweet.”

“You’re certainly smitten aren’t you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna fuck her to the brink of tears. Have you heard that cute little giggle? Imagine what her whines sound like. I just wanna watch as you wrap your big hands round her thro-”

“S’that what you want? You wanna make innocent little Y/N our cockslut. Wanna make her our needy puppy. Wonder how many times we could make her come with just our fingers.”

“Fuck Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah that’s right love, cum to the picture of fucking her mercilessly, her nails scratching down your back cause you’re fucking her so hard.”

You watched Sirius shudder while Remus’s face lit up in victory. You decided it was best to leave before they were no longer distracted. 

Well, that certainly didn’t make you any less riled up. Looks like they wanted you as much as you wanted them. You knew you’d have to put your shyness aside, but how on earth do you talk to someone about that. Yes, hello I find you two super hot and I’d just love it if you’d degrade me and throw me around thank you so much. Frankly you never knew you wanted that yourself until you heard the words fall from their lips with ease. You put your plan in motion as you traveled back to your room, praying it would work.

---

You were giddy when you woke up, anxious for the day that awaited you. You decided to wear a shirt that Remus had once complimented, suddenly much more aware of how it complimented your chest. You paired it with your shortest skirt and thigh high socks. You turned around and shoulder checked to appreciate yourself, knowing if you bent over too much anyone could see the white lace thong you had underneath.

You knew the order meeting was starting earlier than usual so you pranced down the stairs and were met with a dumbstruck Ron and Ginny.

“Blimey Y/N, who are you trying to shag?” He was instantly met with a slap by Ginny.

“Shut it Ron, don’t talk about Y/N like that you git. You look adorable.” She reassured.

You smiled sweetly at her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Gin, I’m gonna go get breakfast now.”

You swear you saw Remus and Sirius give a double take when you entered the kitchen. Pleased your plan was going well you continued into the next phase and sat between Fred and George casually as if your heart wasn’t racing a million miles an hour. Any laugh that the twins could pull from your lips were met with a hard stare from Sirius and Remus. Normally Remus could keep a calm disposition but you could notice the look of contempt in his eyes as his hand clenched the edge of the table. 

 You pushed your chair back and made your way to the sink. 

“Here Molly, let me help you clean up.”

“Thank you dear, you can just grab the dishes from the table love.” 

You made your way round the table and once you reached where your two admirers were you squeezed between them and bent over to grab the last plate, feeling your skirt ride up high enough to gain a sharp intake of breath from Sirius. 

“Sorry, it was just easier to get it this way.” 

You smiled to yourself as you helped Molly finish cleaning. Everything cycled out and everyone rearranged where they sat as they tidied up before the meeting began. You were thrilled at the chance to sit between Remus and Sirius now that everyone had moved. You leaned forward so you could rest your chin on your hand as Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke of the newest updates happening within the ministry. Fred and George would sometimes try to throw you off by making funny faces, but they were met by a hard glare by Remus which instantly simmered them down, while Sirius placed his arm around the back of your chair in a possessive manner. Welp, now was as good a time as ever to test the waters. You leaned back into your chair and crossed one leg over the other so your foot would brush against Sirius’s calf. He passed a glance, and you took a deep breath and moved it up and down his leg. You smirked at how you saw his hands clench and that spurred you on to lightly place your hand on Remus’s thigh.

“Y/N love, what are you doing exactly” Remus’s voice was shaky, like he was holding back.

Time to ice the cake.

“Nothing Remmy, I’m just being innocent little Y/N.”

Sirius’s head swerved at that one and you couldn’t help but notice the growing tent in his trousers.

---

It took forever for everyone to leave after the meeting. It took even longer to convince Molly that you were fine to stay here rather than go back to the burrow.

“Alright Y/N if you’re sure, but you know how to reach me if you need anything at all right?”

“Of course Molly.”

If she knew what you wanted these two men to do to you she would be dragging you by the ear out the door. But finally, finally she left.

Leaving you alone with two straight faced men whose expressions were unreadable. Remus was the first to break the silence. 

“Y/N, did you over hear our conversation last night”

You nodded, but Sirius wasn’t having it.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna answer out loud for us pretty girl. You don’t get to tease us the way you do then act all shy now.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Remus returned to questioning you. “Yeah, and did you like what you heard?”

“I- I did.”

“Didn’t know you were such a naughty girl” Sirius chortled, “wish I would have known sooner.”

“I’m not naughty!”

“Oh yeah what makes you say that?”

“Cause I wanna be your good girl, please make me your good girl.”

Remus was hypnotised by the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips looking up at him.

“Shhh we’ve got you puppy, we just thought you’d want something more gentle.”

“No Remmy, I want you.”

“You can have me darling, let's go upstairs.”

He offered his hand to you and you took it eagerly, and began your journey upstairs, earning a chuckle from Sirius as you snatched his hand too on the way. As soon as you entered they had their hands on you, Sirius had you pressed against Remus as he was kissing your neck. 

“You sure you want this love?”

“Please Siri.”

“Alright pup, safe word is red okay? Any point you feel uncomfortable you tell us and we’ll stop immediately. Can you say it for me?” 

“Red.”

“Good girl,” Remus praised “Here, let's take all this off since it’s not covering much anyway.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for Remus while Sirius got on his knees to take off your skirt. He debated leaving the socks on, but he wanted you to feel every single thing so he took them off. Now last, but certainly not least. 

“As cute as these panties are, they're only in my way, can I take these off precious?”

“M Hmm.”

Remus was quite content to take off your bra and massage your breasts and nibble across your shoulders while Sirius continued his attempts to draw dirty words from your clean mouth.

“Baby, your pussy is so wet right now. Can I touch it, love?”

You spread your legs further for him as an invitation.

“Not here, our precious girl deserves to be comfy on the bed.” 

Remus sat against the headboard and motioned for you to follow suit between his thighs.

You practically skipped there, so excited for what was about to happen. You sat down with a quick plop and wiggled your hips to get more comfy, eyes wide as Sirius crawled up from the end of the bed to push your legs apart and gently trace your inner thighs with his forefinger.

“Tell me pup, have you ever touched yourself?”

You nodded bashfully, which Remus did not enjoy apparently as he lightly slapped your thigh with one hand while the other grabbed hold of your jaw to force your eyes onto Sirius fully.

“What did we say about speaking out loud pup, be a good girl.”

“Sorry Remmy, I got embarrassed, I do touch myself Siri”

Sirius grinned, “What makes you touch yourself sweet girl.”

“You, you and Moony do.” He relished in the whine that escaped your lips as he finally made contact with your aching clit, clearly he liked that answer.

“What do you imagine us doing to you pup.”

You moaned as his pace quickened. “Anything, anything you want.”

That’s when his tongue made contact on your clit instead. You jolted at the sudden change, but Remus was quick to hold you down.

“That feel good, sweetheart? I love Siri’s tongue too.” 

You could only throw your head back and mewl as Sirius’s tongue flicked faster and he added a finger to the mix, completely enthralled with how your entrance clenched around it desperately.

“Pads I think our pretty girl is gonna cum keep going. Has anyone ever made you feel this good puppy? Fred or George couldn’t make you feel like this could they?”

“No- no Remmy.”

“Wait till I get my turn love, go on and cum so I can make my pretty girl feel good too.”

Even Sirius’s tight grip on your thigh couldn’t keep you tethered as you released on his face. Bliss like you had never known overtook and it’s like you were hyper aware of every touch, every breath of theirs that fanned across your body, and every kiss that Remus awarded you with for being your lovely self.

And you couldn’t get enough of it.

Neither could Sirius as he leaned back to take in the view of the masterpiece he created. He loved how you had squirmed under his touch as he continued to thrust his fingers eagerly. 

He was feeling benevolent though and pulled out. Instead he took a firm grasp on your hair and pulled you on your hands and knees so you were eyelevel with his throbbing cock. 

Remus placed a couple of smacks on your ass now that it was exposed for him.

“What do you say to Pads for making you feel so good?”

Sirius wondered if you were aware how cute you looked with your owlish eyes oggling his long member.

“Thank you, Siri.”

“That’s right Puppy, now how about you return the favor.”

You just nodded obediently and stuck out your tongue, which only made Sirius growl even louder as he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat but found yourself gagging at the surprise feeling of Remus’s head rubbing up and down your slick folds.

You arched your back and whimpered around Sirius’s cock and Remus got the message loud and clear. Slowly he inched his way inside groaning when your wet heat enveloped him completely. Once you were used to the feeling you wiggled your hips as a signal so he could move. The slow powerful thrusts of Remus made Sirius thrust through your perfect lips even faster at how the vibrations you emitted felt around his cock. His grip on your hair got even tighter.

“Fuck you feel so good puppy, such a good girl taking such good care of us. I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face, want me to cum all over your face, sweet girl?”

At the sound of your desperate whining he gave your face a few rough pats and yanked your head back. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stuck your tongue out waiting patiently while he stroked his dick furiously. Finally he released on your face, but before you got the chance to think he was licking it up with wide stripes across your face before moving to kiss Remus. You glanced over your shoulder at the two most beautiful men you’d ever been blessed to see, and moaned as their teeth clashed in a hungry and needy kiss. They stopped in a pant and had their foreheads pressed together, grinning at your demands.

“Moony I think our good little puppy wants more attention.”

“Aw, is that so my needy angel. I can fix that for you.”

Quicker than you could count he had you flipped on your back and started fucking into you ruthlessly. His movements were filled with so much determination that every thrust was pushing you to the end of the bed until your back was hanging off the edge. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them both over your shoulders so he could reach even newer sensitive spots inside you, completely captivated by how freely your tits bounced in this position.

“Rem- Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not, you be our good girl and hold on a little longer.”

“Please I can’t take it.”

“If you wanna cum you beg for it then, since you can’t wait.”

“Please please, let me be your good girl, please let me cum you make me feel so good please.”

“Hear that Pads? Imagine if someone heard pure little Y/N acting as our desperate puppy. Okay darling you go ahead and make a mess on my cock baby.”

A wave of euphoria rushed over you as you hung there and took every slam that came your way. The bliss however quickly became too much as your legs wriggled to find your escape from his strong grasp. He just grunted and let you slide into a heap on the floor. He swept to the side of the bed and around to where you were and hoisted you back on the bed so you were on your stomach and your legs hung off the edge. He pressed his hand to your back to firmly hold you in place.

“Angel you begged for this, now you’re gonna take it, yeah?”

He returned to his prior animalistic pace that summoned tears to roll down your cheeks. 

Sirius started petting your head lovingly “It’s okay love, you’re being such a good girl for Moony and I. You look so gorgeous with those tears all fucked out.”

He continued to comfort you and press kisses to your hairline until finally Remus reached satisfaction with his brutal attack on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m gonna cum”

He pulled out swiftly and his hips found their way to Sirius’s hungry lips. It was such a beautiful sight, but your voice made and audible whine before you could control yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart, thought you wanted me to stop.”

“Wanted your cum, wanted you to cum in me Remmy.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to make that happen precious girl.”

---

Hmmm yeah I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope y’all enjoy my lovelies <3

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn @sunny-bunnny

[letarasstuff]

Hold On

Summary: This is based on the song "Hold On" from Chord Overstreet. After weeks and months of arguments, hurtful words and pain Spencer's daughter is convinced that this is the only option for both's happiness.

Warnings: attempted suicide (not specified how), hospitals, angst, sad, hurtful words, mean Spencer in the beginning

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone

The last few weeks weren’t easy in the Reid household. There is not one day, where no loud screamed arguments are thrown through the entirety of the apartment.

“(Y/N), you have to see things from my point of view, too! My job is demanding and I can’t be there for every little competition you have”, Spencer tries to reason with his daughter.

“I have to see things from YOUR point?! Little competition?! DAD! This was the math olympics and, mind you and your busy schedule, it was not the ‘petty’ school round. I went against people from the WHOLE country! Just- I- Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I have a father caring for me for at least an hour. But I see, your job is more important than your child.”

Her father looks at her, speechless. He didn’t know how far she came in that competition. (Y/N) hasn’t said a thing, didn’t make a noise about it. How is he supposed to know all that then?

“Just because I’m a profiler doesn’t mean I’m able to read your mind. Just try and cut me some slack here, I- I need you to understand how important the things I do are. Can you try to be a little less ignorant, please?”

It feels like Spencer has punched her in the guts. For years (Y/N) backed down, knowing that her father’s work is in fact important. He is saving life for crying out loud, but is it really that selfish to ask for his attention every once in a while? Ever since she is basically able to be on her own it seems like he stopped caring for her.

“Ignorant? Oh Dad, you really are an amazing profiler”, the teenager says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “You know what? Try and profile that!” She begins to walk out of the living room, showing him the bird. Seconds later her door smashes into the lock.

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Is he really that bad of a father?

When (Y/N) was born, he swore to himself to be the opposite of his own. Spencer wanted to be there for his daughter any time she wanted him to. School dances, spelling competition, kindergarten graduation, the whole nine yards.

But when was the last time they did something as a family. From cooking and eating dinner together nearly every night they went to occasionally seeing the other at the breakfast table before heading out.

Spencer understands her now. He is not better than his father at the moment. He just missed a big event in his daughter’s life and blames it on her. He called her ignorant, even though he is the one that didn’t pay attention. The oh so amazing profiler forgot to show his child that he loves her. That she is more important to him than anything in his life. He needs her in order to function, her love is the only thing that motivates him to do anything.

He knows he has to talk to (Y/N) about it, he was wrong and mean. Spencer just wants to give her time to cool off.

Meanwhile the teenager sits on her bed, staring at the wall. He did it again. He said these hurtful words. Tears stream down her face, but she is numb to them.

Everytime he calls her something, (Y/N) memorizes it. She doesn’t have an eidetic one, but when it’s about mean things, everybody has an elephant’s memory.

Ignorant.

Selfish.

Egoistic.

Childish. And many more.

And her father is right. She is all of the above and so much more.

Maybe he is better off without her. Better off without having to act like he cares for her.

She is a burden, she knows that. Her mother knew that from the beginning, why else would she have left them? Left her? Nobody’s life wouldn’t be better, if she isn’t in it anymore.

(Y/N) thought long and hard about this. Tonight just confirms her thoughts and boostes her decision.

Quietly she makes her way over to the bathroom, locking the door without making a noise. Hidden under towels is her little box. The contents she complained about using for so long.

You locked yourself in the bathroom Lying on the floor when I break through I pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Twenty minutes have passed since (Y/N) smashed her door. Spencer hopes it is enough time for a teenager to cool off. He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He tries again.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart? May I come in?”

The silence is louder than any gunshot he heard.

“Sweetheart, I want to apologize. May I open the door?”

Still nothing.

Spencer enters the room, finding it vacant. Oh of course, the moment he wants to talk with her she is in the bathroom. The Reids always had a thing for timing.

He knocks at the bathroom door. “Sweetheart, are you in there? Of course you are. Dumb question. I- I want to apologize. What I said wasn’t right and it was hurtful. Can- can you come out? There are a few things I have to make right.”

To his bewilderment there is no answer. No noises. A whole lot of nothing. This scares Spencer. “(Y/N), please say something. I care. I do. I love you, please answer me”, he desperately says.

Still no answer.

Spencer feels like he doesn’t have a different choice. He takes a step back and a deep breath, remembering what Derek taught him. With a loud crash he kicks the door open.

There she lies. His child. His daughte. The one human he promised to protect no matter what.

Her body lifeless, a small box next to her. Spencer identifies the contents immediately. His heart drops faster than he thought it to be possible.

In an instant he kneels next to (Y/N), pulling her in. His hands are shaking as he tries to take her pulse. “No no no no. NO! (Y/N), baby please open your eyes. Don’t leave me, no! You can’t do that, I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me, I need you!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

(Y/N) is in and out of consciousness. The dark seconds are terrifying to her. She regrets her choice.

In the seconds she is conscient, she hears a warm voice. The teenager feels safe now that it is there. At first the voice is quiet and blurry, but she is still able to catch a few words.

“Don’t” “Me” “Love you” “Much” “Need”

As her body finally slips away, she feels at ease. These words, it feels like lotion on her wounds. Because she also loves the voice and its person. She needs them like they need her.

Long endless highway, you're silent beside me Driving a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fading Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones

Spencer acts quickly. He knows his daughter doesn’t have much time left. He picks her up, trying to grab as many important things on his way out as possible. The genius runs to his car, hoping and praying to all the gods above that it will work after months of not using the vehicle. The motor does turn on to his relief.

The drive to the hospital feels longer than any roadtrip Spencer ever went on. The seconds tickle down and just like that (Y/N)’s chances. Chances of a happy ever after with him in her life, hopefully.

Not once does she move, her body looking more like a doll than a human being. Spencer just prays that it won’t be like this for long. He needs her, the light of his life. She can’t fade, she is not allowed to. It will break him. Darken his own light.

He has to be strong now. The glass is half full, the hospital only a few minutes away. (Y/N) will make it. Spencer doesn’t have any other option than that.

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still They pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

“I need a doctor! A nurse! Somebody! My daughter, she-” Spencer screams, entering the ER with her lifeless body in his arms. He can’t end the sentence. But it’s also not necessary. A whole team of people crowd around the young man, one of them pulling a stretcher behind him.

Reluctantly Spencer lowers (Y/N) on it, knowing that he can’t do anything more. His child’s fate lies in the hands of the medical staff now. He has to trust them with her. With his lifeline.

One doctor takes her arm, trying to take a pulse. He shouts something, but Spencer’s ears are deaf to his words. Everything goes silent as they pull her away. Away from him.

He falls to his knees as reality hits him. He may not be a father any longer. And it’s his fault and his fault only.

“Please don’t leave me”, Spencer whispers.

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

Lights flash her. They hurt her eyes. But there is a greater pain (Y/N) can’t locate where it’s coming from. Where is her father? She needs him. She has to apologize. There are so many things she wants to say to him. To reassure him that she knows her decision was wrong.

As people continue to scramble around her, the pain intensifies. It becomes nearly unbearable and stops suddenly. The last thing she hears after a shrill high pitched tone is the voice of her father.

“I love you.”

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home

“Family of (Y/N) Reid?” A doctor asks into the waiting room, looking exhausted. Spencer looks up from the floor. He memorized every little bump while pacing back and forth. He hasn’t called anybody. He doesn’t want to alarm then, not now. The young doctor needs time to understand what’s happening.

“Is she breathing?” is his first question. The doctor's face takes a pitiful look. “We stabilized her. But (Y/N) is still not through. We can’t say if she makes it through the night. If she does, we are sure she will be on a good way to a full recovery. Tonight will be critical for that. But (Y/N) showed us she is a fighter, maybe the chances aren’t that bad.”

Spencer is led through several halls to her room. He sits down in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to his daughter’s bed. Her hand is cold against his warm one. His are still shaking as he brushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

The only thing that Spencer wants right now is for (Y/N) to open her eyes and ask him to go home. He wants to take her there so desperately. But he can’t. Because he is the ignorant one.

“Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you, Sweetheart”, Spencer says, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

@ellyhotchner

[redrobin-detective]

*crawls through you bedroom window* actually sorry I’m not done talking about the tragic, complicated clusterfuck which is Ben and Rook’s friendship/partnership. Because of how it was set up and their own personalities at the time, it was doomed to fail. I mentioned previously how neither got to know/understand the other and I retract that because it’s not entirely true. They did get to bond in a way that you almost have to when you’re in life or death situations together but they never talked about it and so each went on thinking they weren’t important to the other.

The whole nature of their partnership reeks of impermanence. Max obviously knew ahead of time that Gwen and Kevin were leaving for college and had time to prepare. Ben being on his own, reckless and stupid, was not an option. I wonder how many candidates they went through before they got to Rook. They chose someone who excelled at Plumber training, who knew the rules Ben never bothered to learn backwards and forwards. Someone who would balance out Ben and keep him reigned in. Someone who was obviously destined for higher management so why not give him the best field training possible? Rook, if not Ben, was certainly aware that it was a temporary thing. Ben was 16 going on 17, soon he wouldn’t need a partner anymore; this was the last attempt at training wheels. I imagine the partnership dissolved not long after Omniverse ends, when Rook becomes Magister and probably has new training and responsibilities. Ben, almost an adult by human standards and hopefully positively molded by Rook’s influence, is deemed ready to be on his own. 

So imagine you’re Rook, you’re a newly graduated Plumber who was ready to take on the universe. You’re informed you’re heading to Earth and you will be working one on one with your idol, the Ben 10, the one who inspired you to leave your traditional, isolated homeworld. You meet your hero and while he’s got the watch and the quips, he’s also a child in a culture you don’t understand. You’re disappointed that your hero isn’t as perfect as rumor and propaganda told you. You’re angry and frustrated and you don’t bother to hide it, Ben almost seems to retaliate by being more obnoxious. The more time you spend with Ben, you realize there’s a method to his madness. He wins more battles than he loses, what Rook at first took to be Ben’s flaws turn out to also be his strengths. Seeing Ben in action snarling and laughing in the face of certain destruction, he realizes that Ben is, at the same time, a stupid, idiot kid who barely has an idea of what he’s doing but also twice the hero Rook thought he was. Suddenly Ben 10 isn’t just a poster in his room or a radio show to listen to in the dark, he is a real person and that makes him even more worthy of admiration.

And Rook does admire him, quietly. Ben keeps up his walls and Rook lets him because who is he to try and really befriend Ben 10? Rook is just one of billions of Plumbers in the universe, Ben is the universe’s savior. I bet before Rook ever stepped foot on Earth it was drilled into him that Ben Tennyson was to be protected at all costs, that Rook’s life was nothing compared to Ben’s. Rook already comes from a very restrained and private culture, he won’t initiate anything beyond what is needed for to the mission and to save his partner. It is enough for him to be able to work alongside his hero (even if said hero is thoughtless and ridiculous and has no sense of self preservation and he drives Rook insane but by gum does he respect the hell out of Ben when he isn’t contemplating murdering him). When the time ultimately comes for Rook to depart, he will be sad but not mention it. Because he imagines he is only a blip on Ben’s radar, a temporary partner before Ben goes onto bigger and better things. He never tells Ben that his loyalty wasn’t to the Plumbers, to Ben 10 but to the scrawny, sleep deprived kid who always remembered Rook’s favorite smoothie flavor. 

Now imagine you’re Ben. You’ve saved the universe at the cost of your privacy, chance for a normal life, general sense of safety and sanity. You’re quickly losing track of what part is you and what part is the myth about you. Two of your three major support systems abandon you without notice. Over the years of AF/UAF, Gwen and Kevin saw all your brokenness, fears, vulnerabilities, watched you go from dumb kid to hero. You didn’t have to tell them these things, they saw them happen and just knew. And now they’re gone and you only have your grandpa who you love but is also sorta of your boss now. He tells you you’re being assigned a new partner, someone chosen without your consent, someone you’re expected to trust your life and secrets with. Fine, this Rook fellow will do. He can watch your back but he’s not having any pieces of your broken heart. 

You fight, both bad guys and each other. The two of you have such opposite styles that you clash. He may have training and discipline but you have experience and incredible power. You fumble and bicker and somewhere through it all find an understanding. Suddenly the rumble of his voice is familiar as Kevin’s once was, his logical approaches and teasing barbs slot in where Gwen’s used to be. It’s not bad, you tell yourself. You know this isn’t forever, that it’s not real, but it’s not bad. Because you know first and foremost that Rook is a Plumber and you are not. You also know he is a fan and you are acutely aware how short you fall from the perfect hero ideal. Ben laughs, clinging harder to the arrogant hero façade and pretends Rook’s disappointment doesn’t crush him. If someone who’s forced to work with him doesn’t like Ben, then how can he be the beloved savior everyone tells him he is even though he doesn’t quite know how he got there? He’s just a kid doing his best and soon buries himself in his perceived role.

Time passes, Ben and Rook have been through so much. Against your will, he’s seen some of your broken parts. He sees past your cracks, sees your guilt and grief and bone deep fear. But he doesn’t seem upset, even more disappointed by the failure hero. He is kind, friendly, understanding. Not enough that Ben feels comfortable to open up but he relaxes, just a bit. Rook isn’t just a forced upon partner, he’s now a friend. But he knows Rook is only here because he was ordered, he feels Rook’s annoyance with him and believes his kindness is only out of duty. It’s fine, he’s used to everyone around him bleeding him dry of everything he has and then some. Just another part of being a hero. He’s not Kevin or Gwen but he is Rook and he is grown on you because Ben is always an open soul, one who wants to receive some love he gives so freely. You finally feel steady, like you can stop pretending so much and try and find some peace and happiness in your dangerous, chaotic life.

Suddenly so fast, you’ve saved the universe once more and Rook is moving on. It’s like Gwen and Kevin leaving all over again. Rook himself seems excited to move up the ranks, to get more tassles on his uniform. He is a soldier at heart, you are not even if you play the part of one. You are a child only you’re not anymore, while you were busy saving everyone again and again your childhood was stolen from you. Now on the edge of adulthood, you’re told it’s time to take responsibility. You want to scream you’ve been doing that since you were 10 years old, that someone else can do  it for a change. You want to beg Rook to stay, to drag Gwen and Kevin home, to hide your loved ones away with you and not have to confront the big, bad universe alone. Instead, you do what you always do. You swallow all your fears, your wishes and hopes and shake his hand goodbye and wish him well. You don’t tell him you’ll miss him, neither does he. 

Rook and Ben part as the strangers they never stopped being even if both of them aches at the loss of the close proximity, of the friendship. Both are very much aware that the relationship was weak, transient, that it might have been something more if they gave it more attention. However, too many things were between them and both of them genuinely believed the other didn’t care as much. The rest of their lives they remain friendly, distant but polite. It’s not much different from when they fought side by side even if they wish it different.

[sandorcentral]

Welcome Home (Sandor x Reader, NSFW)

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x F!Reader

Summary:  It was requested I write a fic in an AU where Sandor survives Season 8 and is married to Sansa's seamstress, in which Sandor is reunited with his wife and things get..spicey. 

Wordcount:  2435

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: canon divergence, swearing, explicit language, Sandor being mildly sexually aggressive, Sandor fucking BITES and I do not take criticism on this, me not writing dialogue for Sandor very well, size kink, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, unprotected sex. 

A/N:  I suck at writing for Sandor but this is only my first attempt.  Be kind, and comment if you feel so inclined. (:

Also I'll be reblogging this later with the AO3 link.

You'd tossed and turned all night.   Every night without Sandor by your side was fitful.  A generous quantity of wine before bed helped, just not enough. You had spent so many years comforted by your husband's warmth and sheer size that it just didn't feel right trying to find slumber without Sandor's arms wrapped around you, his warm breath and soft snores in your ear.  The burly mastiff that the Clegane house had provided as a wedding gift those years ago huffed and curled up behind your knees, attempting to provide you with the company you were so sorely lacking.  The pressure of the massive dog leaning into you was all that encouraged you to somnolence, as you imagined a much more substantial hound was providing you the warmth needed for rest.

***

The sharp clank of your door's lock shifting roused you instantly.  The mastiff sprang to its paws and a growl rose from deep in its chest, but a heavy gauntleted hand patted the creature's head and calmed it instantly.  "All right, you bloody mutt.  That's a good dog."  

It felt like a dream, hearing that deep rasp.  It had been a dream on so many occasions since Sandor left to accompany Queen Sansa on her visit to consult Bran in the Crownlands.  You'd slept so little the entire time he had been absent that it felt like a vision, suddenly seeing your husband's towering visage before you. 

After shoeing your mastiff into the hall, Sandor sat down heavily before you on the bed, and discarded his gauntlets upon the floor.  The moment you sat up he captured your face in large, calloused hands and kissed you with a ferocity that took your breath away.  His kisses could be harsh but his lips were soft, save for the fur around his mouth that tickled you.  For a lingering moment you wondered if this perfect moment was indeed just another dream.

With a low rumble under his breath Sandor pulled away, planting the softest kiss upon your forehead, before wrapping huge arms around you and folding you against his chest.  If there were seven heavens then this was indubitably one of them, surrounded by your husband's warmth, the light musk of his skin, and his fingers absent-mindedly stroking your bed-befuddled hair.  

  

"I was wondering if you were ever coming back," you jested quietly, turning your face up to meet Sandor's gaze.  Your chiding words were immediately punished by sharp teeth nipping at your lips, followed by a tender kiss where he'd now left a light red mark.  You clutched his thickly furred jaw in both hands, thumbs occasionally ghosting over his cheekbones, almost trying to convince yourself he was real.  

Sandor leaned back, suddenly looking lost.  He got like this sometimes, especially following any significant absence of you.  Originally you only saw this reaction out of him when you'd stroke or kiss the marred half of his face; you'd always loved pressing your lips to that downward-drooping brow.  It had bewildered Sandor for the longest, the fact that not only did you have no qualms about looking at him, you had no apprehensions about touching his melted skin.  An almost tranced expression overcame his face, his thumb stroking your cheek absent-mindedly as you moved closer to him.  

"I missed you," Sandor rumbled hoarsely, his wolfish gaze of his good eye dropping to your lips.  

"And I love you."

"Mm. Daft as always," Sandor grunted, with his tiny quirk of a smile, before kissing you once more with fervor.    

"I was going to offer you wine but you already taste like it," you chuckled against his mouth.  You had long since begun to associate the deep sugary flavor of red wine with Sandor's coarsely furred lips, and you were perfectly fine with that.  

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do on that ride back?  Besides.  The Broken King can afford Dornish red." 

"Don't call him that."  You gave Sandor the same puppy eyes you did when he casually insulted any of your acquaintances in the Stark family.  

Sandor snorted and suddenly you were being pushed back onto the bed.  "Quit your talking," he rasped.  "We've got lost time to make up for."   

You weren't about to argue with the huge man as his lips found your neck and he deftly undid the lacing of your dress until it loosened from your shoulders, revealing your chest and stomach to him.  Looking you up and down, Sandor absent-mindedly drew his lower lip between his teeth.  He looked hungry, not unlike the way he appeared when he was itching for a fight to start.  

More lacings came undone and more harsh kisses and bites ensued.  Sandor worked his way down your body, nipping at your collarbone then showing delicacy to your nipples - swirling his tongue around them until you shivered and tightened your fingers' grip in his hair.  You loved the fact that his hands were more than large enough to entirely encompass each of your breasts in his palms, and that his mouth was deft in his exploration of your body. 

It was not long before Sandor was wriggling your dress over your hips and discarding it upon the floor, before taking a moment to admire the form of his wife, drinking in your visage.  He had this way of smiling at you that didn't quite reach his mouth but the crinkles around his eyes betrayed that he was pleased.  He ran one large, rough hand down your side and over the sharp curve of your hip, before taking your knee and spreading you open before him.  

He kissed your inner thighs delicately, starting near your knees and moving closer and closer to your core.  His beard tickled you here and there but that was soon forgotten when his warm mouth reached your nub, his large tongue languidly lapping up and down your folds.  One calloused hand gripped the junction where your thigh met your hip, while the other tentatively stroked your entrance, gauging how ready you were.  

"Sandor, please," you breathed, and that was all he needed.  Two long, thick fingers slid into you, before curving upward in a come-hither motion, stroking the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back immediately.  His talented tongue swirling around your nub had you shuddering uncontrollably and tightening around his fingers, making Sandor sigh against you in satisfaction - a low noise that reverberated through your core and had your thighs quivering on either side of his head.  

Your fingers twisted in his hair, attempting to gather long locks away from his face the way he would for you when your mouth was full of his cock.  Gasps and mutters of his name fell from your lips as you felt shocks snaking up through your body.  His fingers quickened their pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, as he suckled at your nub like his life depended on it.  

For a moment you looked down at the tantalizing man between your legs, overcome with the fact that it was him you had managed to marry and that was pleasuring you, the Hound, that was exploring you so intimately.  Years of being together had never dulled this exhilaration; had never lessened the inherent excitement of being ravished by this notoriously huge, powerful man.  For a moment his "good" eye met your gaze; the other eye was too weighed down by his maimed, melted brow to see you at such an angle. 

"Sandor, I'm -"  Your voice cut off suddenly, unable to process the amount of sensation coursing through you. 

In response he slipped a third finger into you, at which point you were certain he was not simply enjoying playing with you, he was getting you ready.  "Go ahead."  His rasping voice rumbling against you, and the sudden crook of his fingers inside you against that special spot was all you needed.  You tightened your grip in Sandor's hair and cried out as stars burst behind your eyelids, your back arching up off the bed.  

A fewmioments and Sandor sat up as you lay quivering and spent, wiping your moisture from his lips and beard.  His eyes were dark with lust, and he was breathing nearly as hard as you were.  

As you slowly came down from the high that his ministrations provided, you had the pleasure of watching Sandor stand and shed his layers.  He was quite adept at undoing his own armor, the result of having never accepted a squire, swiftly leaving him in the loose small-clothes that were your honor to remove.  You sat up, still remarkably shaky in the legs, and took the hem of his tunic in your hands.  You laid a kiss upon each section of your husband's flesh that you revealed, savoring the soft tickle of the dark hair that covered the expanse of his broad chest and abdomen.  

Tunic removed, you graduated down to the buttons of his trousers, teasingly avoiding the swelling you encountered.  Your husband's arousal was no small thing to avoid - to your original intrigue and dismay, you had discovered Sandor was exactly as well-endowed as one would assume a man of his stature might be. You kissed the deep brown fur from his collarbone to his navel, while your hands worked on freeing him from the confines of his trousers.  

Cloth slipped over his hips and Sandor sighed in relief, his stiffened length no longer uncomfortably restrained.  You began laying adoring kisses on your husband's stomach, following the thick trail of brown curls from his navel to his root.  A low rumble worked its way out of the huge man as you placed more kisses on either side of his cock, his warm shaft just barely grazing your cheek.  

"Enough," Sandor growled, taking a handful of your hair, and once again you found yourself being gripped by the shoulder and pushed back onto the bed, though with more fervor this time.  He crawled onto the bed after you, a hungry, predatory gleam in his eyes as he moved atop you.  

Sandor clutched your face in both large hands, resting his forehead against yours.  His breath was hot on your face and his  warm member slid back and forth over your entrance, his leaking length heavy and rubbing against your nub.  You squirmed a little in anticipation beneath Sandor as his tip sought your entrance.

Sandor's lips found yours again before he leaned into you, the weight of his body driving his cock home.  You gasped sharply, all of you tensing as he filled you suddenly and nearly to the hilt, your fingers tangling frantically in your husband's llong hair. You couldn't blame him - he was desperate, he needed to be one with his wife after all this time, but that didn't change the fact that in his urgency Sandor was forgetting you might need some extra time to adjust to him after all these moons of his absence.  

Sandor drew back, his lips exploring from your jaw to your ear. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you yelped as he bottomed out in you with the next thrust; he still wasn't even buried to the hilt.  With a few insistent strokes the burn of him stretching you began to fade, or it became easier to ignore when Sandor filling you to the brim was sending shocks resonating through your core.  

If you really needed convincing to ignore the short-lived pain of his entrance, Sandor sank his teeth into the side of your neck, distracting you with a sensation he knew you responded well to.  The bite was sharp but sent a delicious, dull ache resonating through you as he held on, like a dog mounting its bitch.  You were fully aware that this would be a blue or purple bruise tomorrow, the way his teeth were baring into you, but you didn't care.  In fact the prospect excited you particularly.  Few things satisfied you as much as visible reminders that you belonged to the Hound - it was your honor to wear the marks of the Clegane dog claiming you, branded in your own misplaced blood.  Perhaps one day that honor would be worn as a swollen belly full of Sandor's pups.  

You wrapped your legs snugly around his midsection, allowing a less overwhelming angle as his pace began to pick up rapidly.  What had been relatively methodical strokes were now frantic and restless, eliciting gasps and shrill moans from you every time Sandor's cock came up against that wall deep inside you, sending tendrils of sharp pleasure up through you.  Your eyes rolled back in your head and the rest of the world began to drop away, nothing existing in that moment but your union with Sandor; the musk of his skin surrounding you, the tickle of his dark helical strands falling around your face, the breath-taking sensation of him filling you relentlessly.  He was absolutely intoxicating.  

The force of his rutting eventually sent you over the edge again, and you cried out frantically enough that you stuffed your own fist into your mouth with celerity.  Sandor immediately grasped your wrist, holding your hand captive above your head.  "No," he snarled, gripping the hair of the back of your head, "let them hear what I'm doing to you."  Undoubtedly referring to adjacent rooms in the castle.  You whimpered against Sandor's furred lips, unable to control your body tightening around him convulsively, drawing from him his own climax.  Sandor took your throat between his teeth with a low snarl as he suddenly spilled into you, his warm seed filling you to the point of overflowing.  

You kept your legs tightened around your husband's waist as he loosened his teeth on your flesh and rested his damp forehead against the swoop of your shoulder. You were unwilling to experience the absence of him within your body just yet.  Sandor's cock still pulsed and twitched, his breath ragged on your neck, as your insides milked the last few drops out of him. 

A small whine escaped you as Sandor withdrew slowly, settling beside you on the bed and collecting you to his chest.  You nuzzled against the soft curls of his collarbone and gently entwined your legs with his.  "I love you," Sandor rumbled sleepily, resting his chin atop your head.  

"Welcome home, love."  You laid a languid series of tender kisses beneath his jaw, though Sandor was already snoring softly, arms still clasped solidly around you.  You smiled against his chest, and it wasn't long until you fell into the only peaceful sleep you'd found in fortnights.  

[afictionalwhore]

Father Figure

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

A/N: this is for the lovely lovely @jadequeen88. I had teased her with this for far too long.

DILF Kirishima x fem reader

Words: 3.2K

TW: Noncon/dubcon at first. Somnophilia. Daddy kink. Age gap.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────��─

Eijiro Kirishima, better known as Red Riot, lived a good life. He had a successful career as one of the top ten pro-heros upon retirement. He had a good apartment in a safe neighborhood. Most importantly, he had a daughter he loved with his entire being. Kiri also had you. 

Kiri had watched you grow up alongside his daughter and liked to think of you as his own, being the closest, and perhaps only friend, to the only Kirishima child. You had grown up beside his daughter, the two of you inseparable. He was there for every school event, from kindergarten graduation to high school graduation. Kirishima didn’t know when you had grown into such a woman. One day, you were the small child running around the apartment playground with his daughter, the next, the two of you were just finishing up finals of your junior year of college. Kirishima felt like he had blinked and you were no longer the little girl but a full grown woman, and practically a stranger. 

It had been a while since you had come home, always out on some sort of spring break vacation with his daughter. Over time, as you had grown from preschooler to teenager to college student, Kiri himself felt like you had grown distant from him. Not being your biological parent, Kiri felt like he had no entitlement to be involved in your life, so no matter how much it hurt him to see you move on with your life, he let you.

You had shown up one day, stating that your finals were over but you didn’t want to go home yet.  His daughter’s own university was just starting their finals week, but she had said you could go on to the Kirishima house; her father wouldn’t mind.

Kirishima nearly choked on his morning coffee when he saw you coming through the door. You were no longer the small child running after his daughter, but a grown woman, and you had filled out in ways that sent Kiri’s mind reeling.

“If you don’t want me here, I can leave, Mr. Kirishima,” you said, gazing across the room at him from under long lashes. 

“No, no,” he waved, maneuvering his newspaper to avoid making eye contact with you so you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up his face. “You’re always welcome here. And it’s Eiji.”

You struggled through the door with your suitcase, heavy with your summer wardrobe. Kirishima moved away from his coffee and newspaper, setting down the small rectangle frames he had been prescribed after retiring. 

“Here. Let me help.” He reached out for your belongings, his large, warm hand brushing against yours. Kiri had always been aware of how small you were, but now the brush of his skin against yours sent electricity shooting through him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kirishima!” you chirped. “I mean, Eiji.” You blushed a little as you corrected yourself.

“No worries,” Kiri coughed. “Make yourself at home. I’ll set these in the spare room.”

It was one of the longest weeks of Kirishima’s life. You were driving Kirishima crazy, from the way you danced in the kitchen when you thought you were alone to the times Kiri had caught you staring at him. All week, he had struggled with thoughts of you, chastising himself. Kiri never meant to act on his feelings towards you. He instead planned to keep them bottled up inside him forever, relieving himself only in the privacy of his ensuite shower. He thought himself to be nothing more than a disgusting old man preying on a young college girl. But you were an addiction, and Kiri found himself sneaking glances your way, hoping for little ways to brush against you and feel you against him.

Kiri blamed his current feelings on years of pent up frustrations. His romantic life had been so dull that there were rumors of him dating fellow pro-hero Dynamite, his good friend Katuski, despite the man being happily married for years now. While working, Kirishima had no interest in romance, he had the occasional fling at the insistence of his agency for publicity, but nothing seemed to stick. Sex and romance were the least of his worries. Kirishima didn’t even remember who the mother of his daughter was, but she didn’t bother him, and he was happy with his small family.

Kirishima has allowed himself one date that week, an attempt to keep his mind from filling with images of you. The date had ended horrifically, the woman being only concerned with his financial situation as a retired top ten, and Kirishima found himself tired, frustrated, and still thinking of you.

Kirishima kicked off his shoes upon entering his dark home. He prayed that you were already asleep, or even better, out of the apartment completely with some other man, though the thought made his heart sink a little more. Upon entering his bedroom to make his way to get ready for bed, the sight that greeted Kiri nearly sent him into a heart attack.

You were laying flat across his bed on your stomach, clutching an extra pillow of his  like you were almost willing it to be his warm, broad chest. Kiri shook his head, believing it to just be wishful thinking. You had one leg stretched out underneath you. The other leg was hiked up, almost on top of the makeshift chest of a pillow if it had been a little longer. At some point in your sleep, you had thrown the blankets on the floor, leaving yourself in full view for anyone who happened to walk by.

You were wearing a Red Riot t-shirt that was much too large for you. If Kiri hadn’t known better, he would have guessed that you had swiped it from his closet while he was out earlier that day. While the shirt was large enough for him, with your leg hiked so far up, the shirt barely covered your Georgia peach ass. 

Did you have any idea of what you were doing to him? Kiri thought you must have known the way you batted your pretty lashes at him and flashed your little lace panties at him when you bent down in front of him to pick up your dropped keys. If Kiri weren’t so plagued with the intoxicating thought of you he may have laughed at that. You were nothing but a college girl in her early twenties with, to his knowledge judging by how easily you blushed, little to no sexual experience trying to make her way into the bed of a man old enough to be her father. You had succeeded, too. You were literally in his bed.

As Kiri crept closer, he noticed that the position you were in gave him the smallest glimpse of the pussy he had been fantasizing about for weeks. You weren’t wearing anything under the giant red shirt with his face plastered on the front. You definitely knew what you were up to.

He pulled down the gray sweats he had worn to bed just enough to free his aching cock. He wondered when he got to be such a dirty old man. The sight of you alone was enough to get him already leaking precum. He gave himself a few slow pumps, biting back a low groan. Standing over your smaller, sleeping form, hard cock in hand, it took everything in Kiri not to cum on the spot.

Kiri slowly sat on the edge of the bed, taking care to not let his sudden additional weight move the mattress too much and cause you to wake up. Testing his luck, he pulled your shirt you were wearing up just enough to get a better view of your pussy, his large and calloused hand ghosting along the curve of your ass as he moved the fabric out of his way. Your puffy folds were already glistening with slick, and Kiri had to wonder what it was that you were dreaming about.

Kiri held his breath, praying you wouldn’t wake up. Even his breathing sounded too loud, echoing throughout the room as Kiri traced a single digit up your folds. He collected a fair amount of slick thanks to your dreaming and settled a calloused finger on your clit. Sharp shark teeth bit into his bottom lip as he made small circles on the bundle of nerves, carefully watching your face for your reactions. Occasionally, your face would contort with slight pleasure before settling back into deep sleep.

After working your clit for a bit, Kiri thought you were wet enough for him to sneak a thick finger into your warm and welcoming walls. He curled the digit within you, wanting to explore every millimeter of you. With a shaky breath, he added a second finger, pausing his ministrations on his own cock to watch you squirm in your sleep, adjusting to the pressure between your legs. You shifted in your sleep, spreading your legs ever so softly as if to invite him in further. After what felt like eternity, you stilled once again, and Kiri continued slowly pumping the two fingers into you, occasionally scissoring and savoring the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing so tightly around just his fingers. He couldn’t imagine how tight you would feel around his thick cock. With one hand working your pussy and one pumping himself, Kiri thought he was as close to heaven as he was going to get. He was definitely going to hell for this.

Kiri felt himself reaching his end, tracing his tip with his thumb. Kiri withdrew his fingers from you. Without thinking, he closed his mouth around the digits, tongue swirling around trying to gain every last drop of you.

Kiri felt like he couldn’t hold himself back after getting the smallest taste of you. You were just as sweet as he had imagined, if not more. He blamed it on the wine he had with dinner earlier in the evening, despite dinner being hours ago and that he had such a small amount he was perfectly safe to drive himself home. He wanted to push his luck as far as it would go, afraid he would never get a chance with you again.

Kiri shifted off the bed, careful to not let the change of weight wake you. He walked around to the edge of the bed and laid back down, hard cock resting underneath him on the soft fitted sheet. He placed his face right in front of your cunt and slowly allowed a warm tongue lap at you. Kiri moaned into you, the vibrations tickling your clit. Giant hands rested on your ass, spreading you to give himself better access. Getting carried away, Kiri found himself rutting against the sheets, desperate for any kind of friction on his painfully hard length as he ate you like a starving man.

“What are you doing?” your voice, still heavy with sleep, broke Kiri’s ministrations. He raised his face from between your legs, face burning with shame. Kiri hung his head low as he pulled away from your wet cunny, afraid to meet your eyes.

“I—” Kiri was stunned into silence. His face burned with shame, the tips of his ears and his cheeks growing red enough to rival the picture of Red Riot on your shirt. “I should go. I’m sorry.”

You rolled over as Kiri pulled away from you and pushed yourself up, so you were sitting straight. You reached out for him as Kiri moved to leave, your smaller hand barely wrapping around his large wrist. Kiri glanced up at you in shock before lowering his head back down, still refusing to look at you. The long black hair that he’d given up on dyeing after retirement created a curtain to shield him from you. Once you were sure he wouldn’t move, you let go of his wrist in favor of both hands coming up to cup his large face, forcing the man to look at you. Round, red eyes, dark with shame and disgust, met yours. 

“Is this a dream?” you whispered, warm breath washing over Kiri’s face.

“No,” he softly replied, trying to turn away from your gaze. “Like I said, I should really—“

“Good.”

Before Kiri could register what you had said, you had pulled his face back towards your own and crashed your lips into his. Recovering quickly from shock, Kiri found himself wrapping large arms around your frame, pulling you deeper into him. Your lips melted together, casting aside all of Kiri’s anxieties while relighting the flame that his earlier shame had nearly extinguished.

Hungrily, you had crawled into Kiri’s lap. You bit his bottom lip before your tongue darted across to soothe the sting of your teeth. Kiri opened up, allowing you to explore his mouth with your own, moans from the both of you being swallowed by the other.

Giant hands pawed at your shirt. You giggled as you pulled away from Kiri to lift your shirt up and over your head, stretching up slowly to tease the older man before tossing the shirt aside and letting your tits bounce with the movement. Kiri ogled at you, still in disbelief that you actually wanted him and hadn’t kicked him and ran away the moment you woke up to him touching you.

“Wanna touch them?” You coyly asked, cupping your chest in your smaller hands and giving a slight squeeze.

“It’s okay?” Kiri asked. The giant, older man looked at you like a kicked puppy.

You nodded your reassurance and, almost immediately, Kiri pounced on you. The larger man pushed you back down to lay flat on the mattress as he fondled your chest, pinching and teasing your nipples that had already hardened due to the coolness of the room despite the heat between the two of you. His hands were so big compared to you, his palm covered your tit. Light moans fell from your lips as Kiri continued his teasing, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“You’re so soft,” Kiri whispered against you, his warm breath tickling your skin before a hot mouth enclosed on your nipple.

You tangled your hands into his long, dark hair as he sucked and nipped on you. Not wanting to leave any part of you neglected, Kiri pinched your twin nipple with one hand, the other occupied with the breast currently in his mouth.

“Come here,” you tugged on his hair, causing the man to pull off you with a lewd pop. “Kiss me,” you pouted.

Kiri wasted no time, devouring your lips in a hungry kiss, tongue sneaking out to play with your own. Kiri began rutting at you, rolling his hips into yours to gain friction. You gasped and squeezed his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. 

“Please,” you begged, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips against his in an attempt to push him into you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, still in disbelief that you actually wanted him back.

“Yes!” you cried. His previous teasing caused an unsated fire to burn within you.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, wanting to be extra cautious that you genuinely wanted him and not just a hormonal mess due to him.

“Yes! Why do you think I’m in your bed naked, you dumb old man!” You were getting desperate, your arousal near painful.

“Okay okay!” Kiri chuckled. “What’s my name?” he growled in your ear before nipping at you, sending shivers down your spine.

“Kiri!” you gasped.

“Try again.” He held his large cock in his hand, dragging up and down your slit but making no motion to thrust in.

“Eiji!”

“Close, but not quite what I’m looking for.”

“Daddy!” You started whining desperate to feel him in you.

“Atta girl,” Kiri smirked.

Slowly, the much larger man pushed himself in your tight walls that pulsed around him trying to accommodate for his size. Your hands grasped at his shoulders, nails sinking into the broad muscle. You felt better than he could have imagined. Your velvet walls wrapped around him perfectly, squeezing with a delicious tightness that wasn’t too painful. You were so hot, so tight, so wet. Kiri was amazed he didn’t cum right then and there. You pushed your hips back at Kiri to get him to move.

After a few thrusts, Kiri lifted your legs, encouraging you to wrap them around him, digging your feet into the small of his back. The new position allowed him to sink deeper into you, letting the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with the sweetest pain.

“Good girl,” Kiri purred at you, causing you to clench around him. “Is this what you like? A dirty old man like me fucking this tight pussy?”

You moaned and tugged at his hair.

“Use your words, baby girl.” Kiri teased.

“Yes!” you cried for him. “Yes, daddy.”

“I’m old enough to be your father. I practically raised you. You really want me to be your daddy?”

“Yes, daddy. Yes, please.”

“Okay, baby girl. I’ll be your daddy.”

Kiri continued to thrust into you, the bed creaking in protest from the strength he used to drive himself into you. You pulled at his long, overgrown hair as he kissed and sucked at your neck, leaving possessive marks down the column of skin. The room echoed with the wet sound of skin slapping and your moans.

“You feel so good, baby girl.”

“You make me feel good, daddy. I’m so close, daddy.”

“Me too, baby.” Kiri grunted, his hips losing his steady rhythm. “Cum with me, yea?”

“Yes, daddy.” Your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy and Kiri felt himself nearing his end once again. 

“Cumming, daddy! Cumming!” your pussy clamped down on Kiri, squeezing in earthquake rhythms to milk him dry. 

Kiri bit down on your shoulder as he came, his sharklike teeth drawing the slightest bit of blood. You held him close to you, the weight of the larger man nearly crushing you as spurts of hot white filled your warm walls.

The two of you laid there, heads spinning and chests heaving trying to regain your breaths. When you had returned to earth, Kiri made no move to withdraw from you, instead choosing to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. You ran your hand through his hair while the other traced lazy patterns on his shoulder.

“How long?” you heard him say against  your skin.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“How long have you wanted that?”

“A while.”

“You won’t regret it?” he sounded almost afraid of your answer.

“No.”

“What now?”

“I guess that’s up to you.”

Kiri lifted himself to look into your eyes, no longer clouded by lust and swimming with love. He placed a gentle, chaste kiss on your bruised lips.

“I want to try to make something work,” he whispered against your lips before laying back down on you.

“Good, I do too.”

Kiri felt himself drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, the hand in his hair lulling him gently. A panicked thought sent him shooting up.

“Does she know?” he asked, eyes round with fear.

“I think she has an idea, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Just go to sleep for now, okay?”

“Okay,” Kiri yawned. 

He settled himself back down on you, sighing deeply and breathing you in. Soon enough, the two of you had fallen asleep tangled into each other.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

[akaashisupremacy]

New Beginnings

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. Will you be able to find peace in each other again?

Notes: Gojo Satoru is good-looking, all powerful and beyond good at his job. I’ve always wanted to explore something he struggles with 

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: ANGST AND PINING, exes to friends to ??, commitment issues lol (wc: 1.3k) tw: mention of blood, infedelity-ish

“Sensei, why are we heading to the infirmary?”

Right after Gojo Satoru arrived at the den Itadori Yuuji was staying, Kiyotaka burst in and whispered something in his ear. Gojo’s eyes widened and he immediately set off with Yuuji tailing him.

“What happened to her?” Gojo exclaims.

The three arrive at the infirmary to see you writhing in pain and screaming in agony. There is dark red blood on your side. Gojo looks like someone had been clawing nails at a chalkboard. He hates to see you like this.

Kiyotaka looks for a healer. Yuuji goes to hide. Gojo tries to undo your makeshift bandages. You’re in a blur of pain.

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

The next thing you remember after your aborted mission is Gojo Satoru’s concerned eyes watching over you. You’re in the Jujutsu Tech infirmary. Your wound is still fresh as hell.

“She’s really beautiful, sensei.” Itadori Yuuji comments quietly from your bedside.

“She is.” Gojo agrees. Your eyes are closed, yet you sense his presence seated on a stool by your bed.

“Is she a former classmate?” Yuuji asks.

“Among other things. She used to be my fiancée too.”

Yuuji probably scrambles at his stance, “Your what????”

Gojo turns to him, “To be clear it wasn’t a love match. We were arranged to be married by our families by 21, but we broke it off.”

Whenever either of you say this, it always leaves more questions than answers.  

Your eyes flicker open. You wince as you try to sit up. Gojo immediately reaches out to aid you. Your hands swat him away.

“Welcome back?” He cheekily greets.

You sniff and look the other way. Why did he have to work here?

Beside him is a young student with pink hair. He must be Yuuji.

“Go get her something to eat from the kitchens.” he tells his student, “Something gentle on the stomach and nutritious enough to get her strength back.”

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

Seeing Gojo Satoru is  a different kind of pain. You once thought you were to be married to this man. Because you knew it was your obligation to your family, you learned to love him.

You both enter Jujutsu Kaisen at 15, Gojo a year ahead. It was the most painful three years of your life. Gojo was a popular and inexorable flirt. His attention span for romances was short although he was never short on female attention.

He cared for you very much. He protected you, assured you and was one of your best friends, but you’ve come to accept that he could never love you romantically or be faithful. He just wasn’t interested.

It hurt you deeply of course. You had tried so hard to love him and he couldn’t do the same for you. Was something wrong with you?  You felt deficient. You took the blame onto yourself.

When you were about to graduate, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Gojo, I’m going back home this Sunday, probably for the last time.” you approached him while he sat on a stone bench. He had just come back from a mission.

“Any reason it sounds so dramatic?’ he raised a brow.

“I’m breaking off our engagement to my clan leader.”

Gojo was so taken aback he didn't know how to react. His mouth hung open.

“You don’t love me and I don’t think you can.” you sighed, looking away.

Gojo fiddled with his hands, “I do, just not romantically.”

It bothered you that he loved you like family. How could you be married to him if he couldn't see you as more than a friend?

“I don’t know why you haven’t come up with this idea yourself honestly.” you frowned. You can feel yourself glaring more intensely than you had wanted to project.

A gentle gust of wind blew by, ruffling the hairs on your head.

“I have,” he quietly admitted, “But I was afraid you’d take it personally and I was trying to find a way to spare you the anguish.”

You shook your head and kicked a pebble, “There’s nothing you can do to spare me.”

“I’ll go with you. If you do this alone, your clan will exile you. Maybe if they see that it’s mutual maybe they’ll be kinder.” he resolved. The arranged marriage was important because it solidified an alliance between your families. Breaking it off meant you were essentially having your own insurgency against your clan.

But they weren’t kinder. You were still exiled. It was hardly a surprise. At least you were relieved of the prospects of loveless marriage.

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

“Can you not watch me eat?” You weakly snap at him.

"I can see you’re still pissed at me.” he acknowledges saintly.

You angrily stuck your spoon on your porridge with all the strength you could muster

“Every time I see you I’m reminded of how I failed to make you love me,” your voice is peeling with emotion, “And how my clan kicked me out because of it.”

Gojo opens his mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. Instead he nods understandingly. He goes to grab you more water.

“Every time I see you hurt like this, it reminds me how I fail at protecting you too.” he murmurs, “I know we’re no longer engaged, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m supposed to keep you from harm.”

He talks with his back away from you, as if you could see through him even without his eyes.

“You didn’t fail at anything,” he continues, “Things couldn’t work out between us because of me. I’ve long since known that I’m not into romantic relationships—at least not in the long term, monogamous way that leads to a wedding and a family. But if I could…I promise…it would be with you.”

“Maybe in a different life.” He adds, reigning in his emotion.

Your face softens at his words. You reach out to hold his hand and he holds you tenderly.

“I didn’t mean to cause you the pain that I have.” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

Tears fall down your eyes. You’ve always carried the blame on yourself. Hearing that from him lifts imaginable weight from your chest. You didn’t realize how badly you needed his apology.

He reaches into his pocket for a handkerchief and wipes away your tears.

“We’ve wasted so many years lost in our own pain.” you mumble back, looking away from him.

“We were too young to deal with the cards that we have been dealt then.” he replies, “You should be kinder to our younger selves.”

He lightly squeezes your hand and for a moment you’re both silent.

“Yeah, I guess I should.” you said with a small smile, “I wish we could press a reset button to start over.”

You hear footsteps entering the infirmary. Itadori Yuuji sees the two of you, hands still entangled in each other. He tries to walk back as if not having seen you.

You both pull away. Strangely you don’t feel embarrassed at all.

“Yuuji, go get a wheelchair. We’re taking our guest for a walk. It’s a beautiful day today.” he instructs, eyes still locked at you. Yuuji nods, glad to be sent away.

He turns to you grinning, “That kid was stunned at how beautiful you are. He told me so on the way back. He only likes Jennifer Lawrence so I guess you’re at par with her.”

You both chuckle and laugh.

“I’ve always wanted to be mistaken for a celebrity.”

“You’re more badass in real life though.” he tilts his head.

“You didn’t need him to get a wheelchair. I can try to walk.” you insist, pushing against the bed rails.

Gojo stands to help you, “The doctor clearly said you need to save your strength. You can walk when we get to the garden.”

“I can’t believe we’re bickering already.” you roll your eyes.

Gojo snorts. You crack a smile. He helps you swing your legs down the bed. Today you start anew, an attempt to reshape how your relationship should’ve been. Today, you finally get some new beginnings.

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General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi@holaaaf@glxar@francxsca

Series Taglist: @kageyamakock 

Like this fic? Check out another Gojo fic here.

The rest of the series: Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Heyyy if you made it this far. Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to see the next chapters 🥺 Writing this fic had me feeling so many typa ways hahahaha and I just need to share it with people. 

[retrogalwrites]

Title: “Shigaraki and the perfect girl” / see on ao3

Pairing: Incel!Shigaraki x f!reader

Summary: Shigaraki has a crush on what seems to be the perfect girl who everyone loves, and becomes obsessed with the idea of corrupting her.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, virginity fetishization, dub con, creepy behavior, stalking, manipulation and somnophilia with a twist

Contents: creampie, vaginal sex, breeding kink, scent kink (in a gross way), mating press, slight dumbification, corruption kink

Word: 4873

Shigaraki had been watching you from the very beginning, all through your high school years. It hadn't been much of his fault, he always told himself, when your existence alone did nothing but to stand out.

You had always been the center of attention, the most popular girl in the entire school, little Miss Perfect. With your good grades, unrivaled beauty, hordes of friends, admired by all students and professors alike. Being always so kind and innocent, with a friendly demeanor towards everyone, including an unwanted outcast like Shigaraki.

On his end, he had always been the creepy one, the strange one, the antisocial one that sneered at others and cursed them under his breath. Everyone avoided him like the plague, at least whenever they weren't too busy tormenting him, all too eager to remind him of how unwanted he was.

The complete opposite of you, Shigaraki was a social pariah.

On your third year, whenever other students would bully him publicly, give him looks and tell him how gross and disgusting he looked, you always had to come right to his rescue.

"Stop it, guys! That's no way to treat someone." You'd say softly, standing between him and his tormentors like some kind of protector. "Leave him alone, would you?"

And they couldn't say 'no' to you, no one could. Reluctantly they would give in to your heartfelt request and leave him be, those fools always dancing on the palm of your hand, but who could blame them? The hottest girl in class, lusted after by every boy in school, including Shigaraki himself, there was no way anyone could resist doing whatever you wanted them to. So pretty, so sweet, so perfect.

You had it all so easy, didn't you?

Shigaraki hated you for that, deeply and passionately loathed your very existence, a resentment that only grew stronger every time you would turn around, with that expression full of concern, to ask if he was okay.

Yes, he hated you for that. He also desired you for that, adored you in fact, wanted you as badly as any other buffoon in your class did. But not in the same way as them. No, when you looked at him with those sparkly eyes, pouting lips, leaning over his desk to give him an eyeful of your chest straining against the fabric of your school uniform, the feelings that stirred inside him were ugly and suffocating, something too depraved to be love.

When the other guys glared at him for having your attention even for a minute, it made his heart beat faster, it made his blood boil as his hands itched to grab you and destroy you, bend you over his desk and tainting every corner of your body right in front of them.

"You're lucky [name] takes pity on your sorry ass, Shigaraki." One of his bullies would scoff, once you were out of earshot.

"I didn't fucking ask her to. Maybe the bitch has crush on me, huh?" He'd spat back with vitriol, just to be met with a kick to the shin. As he hunched over in pain, he'd always hear those same words.

"Know your damn place, freak. A crush? Please, she's too perfect for you."

And they were right, so very right, but it only made Shigaraki want you more, more, more. His infatuation was warped with the thought of revenge, the desire of getting back at everyone by taking you away for himself, and to get back at you simply for daring to exist.

So Shigaraki would curse you in his mind, every single day, and then every night he'd spent it pleasuring himself to fantasies of you, sometimes holding the items he had stolen from you in the past (a gym shirt, your lip balm, the pencil you'd chew on during class). Creating scenarios where he'd get you alone to taint you, destroy you, turn you into dust and ashes with his own hands until he had dragged you down to his own level: a freak, a pariah, the lowest of the low.

If only he had the guts to do it, if only he could admit to himself that he wanted to do it at all, for real.

—————

After graduation, not seeing you for the following months pushed his mind deeper into that brewing obsession, drove him mad with it.

Shigaraki stalked your social media, watching his phone all day to make sure he didn't miss any of your publications and updates, downloading every selfie you uploaded to keep for himself and fap to later. His infatuation had been growing more and more out of control with each passing day, you invaded his thoughts every waking hour.

And yet Shigaraki told himself that it was really only a coincidence that he had ended up in the same college as you. Despite having read through a conversation on the comments from one of your posts on your Instagram a month or so before graduating, about your college prospects. Despite writing down those prospects to later tell his school advisor that he wanted to get into that same school. Despite having begged his father to send him there despite the inconvenient distance away from home in his daily commute, despite having chosen a major he didn't care about just to be in the same class as you.

His self-denial kept that obsession barely restrained, keeping it from pouring out into reality, and you also had to ruin that.

"Tomura!" You had approached him on the first day at campus, excitedly calling his name with such familiarity. The sound made his breath hitch and his cock twitch inside his pants, stomach fluttering.

"Oh, umm...hey." He chewed on his chapped lip, looking away as he lied through his teeth. "Didn't expect to see Miss Perfect here, of all people."

Despite of his dismissive tone being cold as ice, you kept smiling at him, only laughing as if he had been joking.

"It's so good to see a familiar face, you know? Come, sit next to me!!" You had grabbed his hand without a second thought, pulling him along with you into the classroom. People already whispering just from seeing you two walking together hand in hand: a breathtaking beauty like you and him, a disheveled mess, who had been wearing the same dirty hoodie for already a week.

Yet you didn't let go of his hand, even when he had already started to sweat and his palm got all clammy against yours, you didn't let go. The thought of rubbing off his filth onto your skin filled him with joy.

You really were a fucking idiot.

Holding hands with your stalker so casually, with the guy that wanted to ravish you in a dark corner, break you with his cock until you were screaming his name, and make you beg for your life like a pathetic bitch. Yes, that's what he wanted to do, more than anything in the world. He wanted to destroy you, to violate you, to break you, to make you his. Those weren't fantasies, it was reality.

Shigaraki used that same hand to jerk himself off that night in his dorm, imagining that it was you being forced to stroke his throbbing cock. He imagined that you would be so disgusted by his filthy self, your clear skin getting all of his dirt rubbed all over, fat tears streaming down your face as he forced you to open your mouth and take him in until you chocked on his cock.

Soon enough, he was thrusting into his fist, cumming all over himself until his cock softened, and his hands and abdomen were covered in his sticky semen.

What would you do if you found out that the guy you had been so kind to all these years wanted to hurt you so badly? Shigaraki imagined the despair on your face, and soon he was hard again.

—————

For most people, life after high school plays differently. Once you get to college, popularity contests become a thing of the past...but not for you, it seemed. During that first semester, Shigaraki had to watch how everyone around you was back to fawning all over you. Stumbling over themselves to ask you out to parties and dates (how many times did he overhear guys talking about what they wanted to with your tits and ass?), professors favoring you for your perfect grades, everyone adoring you as the perfect girl once again.

He was still an unwanted pariah, ignored by everyone, looked at with scorn by others.  Except whenever you gave him your attention, of course, only then did people want to get all buddy-buddy probably hoping to get to you with his help.

God. He fucking hated you. And he fucking wanted you.

One day, he finally snapped.

Shigaraki decided that he was going to have you before anyone else got the chance to put their hands on you, the perfect girl that everyone loved so much, would belong to the guy everyone hated.

He was going to tear you down once and for all, like you deserved, for living all these years with a silver spoon in your mouth having it all so damn easy. Wipe off that smile off your face, take it for himself, and make sure you were sullied, miserable, broken.

So, Shigaraki planned his next actions very carefully then. For a whole month, he tried to be more open towards you, more friendly, taking advantage of how kind you had always been towards him despite of the dismissive way he always had treated you with. Despite his awkwardness at it too, something that anyone else would've been turned off by already, but you took his attempts with endearment.

It pleased him, how you fell for it so easily, excited to see him reciprocate your attempts at friendship, the excitement on your face whenever you two were paired together for a project or study sessions.

You were so innocent, and so stupid. He truly loved you.

—————

Shigaraki couldn't believe his luck, the day after an assignment when he got you to come with him to his dorm to start working on how you were going to plan around the workload.

His dorm room was, admittedly, filthy. Unwashed clothes and trash scattered everywhere all over the floor, wraps of junk food and snacks hastily piled on an full trash bin in the corner. Anime figurines, video games, and posters decorated the shelves and the walls. The only spot that was kind of well kept was his gaming corner, with his pc and monitors all sparkly clean. He knew it was a shameful way to live, and he excitedly looked at your face hoping to see any semblance of disgust towards it. The lack of it, made Shigaraki frown.

"Err...sorry, I didn't know you were coming so I didn't clean up the place." He feigned concern, trying to edge a reaction out of you.

"That's ok, sorry for barging in." You gave an understanding smile.

Shigaraki's twisted resolve only became stronger. He was going to wipe that smile off your face, and that thought echoed in his mind on repeat for the following hour you two sat down to work.

Though, of course, his attention was not in the books in front if him. Shigaraki was too focused on the fact you were sitting on his bed, your bare things peaking underneath your skirt making direct contact with his dirty bedsheets.

Could you even begin to imagine that those bedsheets were stained with cum from his daily fapping? That he furiously had been jerking himself off to you for months in that same bed? His blood had begun to run towards his loins, and his cock was starting to strain against his jeans. Shigaraki had to cover himself with the textbook as to not to give himself away.

"Tomura, can we take a break? I'm getting tired." You yawned some time later, putting the book away and stretching your arms above your head. An action that gave Shigaraki a perfect view of your pretty curves, the way your tits heaved slightly as you pushed your chest forward, and a flash of midriff peaked from underneath your top.

"We still got a lot to do, dumbass." He curtly replied, pretending he wasn't leering.

You pouted, like a brat. He couldn't understand how you got such good grades when you could be this lazy sometimes. "Please, just fifteen minutes?"

He pretended to think about it, before shrugging at you begrudgingly. "Alright, just stop looking at me like that."

With a pleased, cheeky smile, you let your back fell on his mattress. Something that actually took him by surprise, Shigaraki watched in disbelief how you bounced on his bed, thighs and tits jiggling. You yawned again as you curled into a ball, he wondered if you even noticed how he ran his tongue over his dry lips. Were you really going to make it this easy for him? Were you that stupid?

"Wake me up in fifteen minutes." and you closed your eyes.

"Sure thing." He couldn't stop his lips from stretching into a huge, sinister smile.

—————

Shigaraki had never been a patient man, but he exercised all of the patience he had within him just to wait out the agonizingly slow seconds as you gradually fell asleep. He kept his eyes glued on your laying form through the first five minutes, casually but excitedly palming his erection through his jeans as he watched you fall asleep. He waited, and waited, silently observing your breathing until it fell into slow, regular rhythm. Soft snoring sounds purred from your throat, leaving your lips.

His cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

Hesitantly, Shigaraki called your name once in a hushed voice, then twice a little bit louder, and when he got no response from you, he knew that the time he had waited for all those years had finally come.

The time to break you.

The beating of his heart hammered loudly in his ears, as Shigaraki crawled over the bed towards you. His weight shifted the shape of the mattress, so he moved as slowly as his desperation allowed him to, as to not wake you up yet. Positioning himself above you, his legs straddled you underneath him as he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection, veiny shaft all with the head red and swollen, looking like he was about to burst. Then, supporting himself on his knees, he leaned back for a moment just to take in the wonderful sight you made.

Spread on his filthy bed, so comfortably on your back, breathing through lush parted lips. The girl chased after by everyone at school, they all would've killed to be in his place and to see you like this, to have you like this. Looking so small, so fragile, so defenseless, so fucking perfect.

Years of abstinence came down crashing all at once and Shigaraki's depravity took a hold of him completely, and it felt damn good.

His lips came down to cover yours with such pathetic urgency, Shigaraki crushed your soft body underneath his larger, even if skinny, frame. Dry and chapped lips devoured the softness of yours, and they tasted so sweet and creamy, exactly the same flavor of lip balm he had stolen from you back in high school. God, he could feel your heavy, round tits pressing against his chest, his erect cock rubbing needy against the snug gash of your clothed crotch, the engorged head poking at your entrance like he was in heat like a dog, shuddering violently at the stimulation. He moaned loudly against your mouth, forcing his tongue between your teeth and into your sweet mouth, as drool trailed down the corners of his mouth and smearing against your pristine skin. God, he forgot to brush his teeth after his morning coffee, his mouth was surely filthy...not like it even mattered to him anyway. Neither did it matter that he was going to wake you up like that, he indulged on tasting you completely. In fact, he anticipated to watch you wake up, and realize what a stupid bitch you had been.

Bringing his hands to your face, he forced your mouth to press harder against his as he kissed you so sloppily, his throbbing erection rutting against your core.

"(Name)...oh fuck, (Name)..." He whined against your lips. Just a virgin that he was, Shigaraki couldn't help that the mere stimulation of your clothed pussy-mound rubbing on his bare cock was really firing him up, pushing him so much that he was creaming his pants already. He shuddered, muscles tensing as the head of his cock spurted huge jets if his smelly, sticky cum all over the front of your skirt and your thighs.

He breathed heavily, looking at the mess he made.

Then he heard you call out to him, and the sound of your voice was anything but distressed, or even angry.

Instead, you sounded disappointed.

"Aww, you already came?" His eyes shot to your face. You were wide awake, face flushed as you stared at him through fluttering lashes and glossy eyes, the expression of someone who was throughly aroused. Shigaraki was the one struck by shock, and confusion.

"Tomura, I can't believe you are such a quick shot. I was looking forward to this, you know?" Your disappointment somehow puzzled him more than the sheer anger of being called out for his quick ejaculation, and that was impressive on itself. His expression made you giggle.

"What the fuck are you laughing for?!" He growled with bared teeth, his hands moving to your writs to restrain them above your head, crushing you with his body again. You whined, not in fear, but need.

He couldn't begin to understand what was happening. You weren't freaking out, you weren't crying, you weren't despairing.

"Do you understand what is happening here? I'm assaulting you, stupid bitch!" He lost his cool so quickly.

"Of course I know." Speaking in a whisper, your back arched, pressing yourself further against Shigaraki, raising your thighs to catch his cock between the soft flesh of your exposed, sticky thighs. He hissed through his teeth,  the touch easily making his cock spring back to life, harder than before.

"Tomura, you've always been a creep." For the first time, your voice sounded harsh, condescending.

And disgusted.

Finally, that disgusted look. Shigaraki stared at you with a burning gaze through red eyes, mouth agape at the sound of those words being uttered by you, that look on your face that he had wanted to see for the longest time. His cock twitched, a spurt of cum drooling down the tip and getting on your exposed panties. The feeling made you shudder, your things squeezing his cock between them again. His back arched, hands restraining you gripped your wrists tighter, he cursed at how fucking good it felt.

"But I always liked that about you, honestly! How gross you are, how dirty and smelly you are, you are always so mean to me too! I wanted you to take me like this by force one day."

"You...wanted this to happen?" Shigaraki was starting to understand, though none of it made sense. You snorted, giving him a suddenly smug grin that made his blood boil.

"I always hoped it would." A candid confession, your own breathing had become erratic, the euphoria of pouring out your deepest secrets. "It always made me feel so hot to imagine that you fucked me and made me all dirty and disgusting, that you turned me into a freak like you."

It sounded like pure bullshit, and yet the genuine honesty in your voice left no room to question it. The reality you presented him with had shattered his own. And it made him so damn angry and so fucking turned on. He felt all light-headed suddenly, like he was in a dream.

"So you've been fucking with me all this time?! Is that it, you damn bitch?!"

One of his hands roughly grabbed your throat, fingers circling the frail column of bone and squeezing hard, you gasped at the sudden pressure keeping you from breathing. You stared up at him. His gaze bore into yours, face inching closer to snarl with pure, scorching fury.

And yet you still looked so ecstatic, a lewd expression that couldn't be further from that angelic, innocent look everyone always said made you so perfect. You looked absolutely wicked in that moment.

"Yes...I have." You spoke through labored breaths, clawing and the hand around your throat. "You fucking...disgusting...creep."

Shigaraki realized then, that you hadn't ever been perfect, in fact, you had been the same as him from the beginning. A depraved fucking mess.

And he hated you for that, loved you for that.

Shigaraki then let go of both your wrist and neck, slipping his leaking cock away from your thighs as he leaned back on his knees. Gasping for oxygen, your head already felt light by the time you felt your clothes being violently ripped off from your body, blouse and skirt tearing away and being thrown behind Shigaraki's towering frame, leaving you in only your underwear.

The frilly, see-through thing that looked more like lingerie. God, you really were such a fucking freak, weren't you?

Shigaraki's hands went to unclip your bra that so luckily opened at the front. Throwing the item with the thorn pile of your other clothes. The sight of your bare tits bouncing in front if him was like out of his deepest fantasies, and Shigaraki didn't wait a second longer to roughly squeeze your breasts in his calloused hands, taking handfuls of the supple mounds of flesh he had always dreamed to grope. They felt full and heavy in his palms, fingers sinking into their softness, and seeing the way you mewled when his thumbs teased the hardening nubs of your nipples, making you softly moan his name, Shigaraki lost it.

His mouth attacked one of your nipples, mouth latching to the puffy areolae and teeth sinking into the flesh as he sucked hard and desperate. Your reaction was immediate, hands tangling into his messy white hair and fingers pulling at his scalp, mouth parted to mewl his name in pain and delight. He kept suckling at your breasts, hungry and rough like he was hoping to suck milk out of them, the other hand already playing with the other breast, mercilessly pulling and twisting your hard nipple, bruising the tender skin.

"Tomura wait — ooh!!" Your body trembled as you whined out his name, another wave of pleasurable pain hitting you when Shigaraki squeezed your breasts together and brought both nipples into his greedy mouth. Sucking at them and lapping at the pebbled skin with his tongue, until your were squirming underneath him like a needy little whore.

One of his hands delved down to your panties, the thin string that held them up all to easy to break with one powerful tug. You gasped, a sound that turned into a loud scream when you felt his fingers teasing the hot wetness of your pussy lips, before he buried one digit into your core, testing your insides.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed, biting your lip, feeling him experimentally finger your inner walls. Shigaraki was fascinated at how hot and slick you felt inside, your fleshy walls sucking around his fingers so tightly that he wanted to stuff his cock inside that hole now, now, now.

He let go of your nipples with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down the abused skin. "Who would've thought...that you had such a filthy mouth." He snickered. "You are so fucking wet already, you goddamn degenerate, you want my cock so bad, huh? I'll let you know I haven't showered in a few days." It was like he was testing you by basking in his own disgusting habits.

"Y-Yes, I do, I want your filthy cock!!" Another loud moan, uncaring that other people in the dorm were going to hear. "Please, Tomura, make me filthy!!" The expression on your face, mouth agape with your little tongue out so unabashedly desperate for someone like him made his heart flutter.

Shigaraki would've wanted to keep you begging for so much longer, but in reality, his own desperation had him pulling back his hand from your pussy, leaving you empty and sighing disappointed for a moment, but not for long. Firmly anchoring himself down with his knees on the mattress, he raised your hips with a bruising touch and with the clumsiness of an inexperienced man, plunged his cock into your pussy in one punishingly rough thrust. The sudden feeling of being full had you arching your back and curling your toes, nails clawing at his forearms as you writhed in pain from the sudden intrusion. Shigaraki buried his cock into you until his pubes brushed your outer lips, and he was balls depp inside.

"Fuck, fuck, ooh...holy shit you...are fucking tight." Tomura groaned with his mouth agape, eyes rolling to the back of his head. His breath hot against your skin as he leaned over for a moment, taking in the unbelievably hot sensation of you squeezing around him. "This fucking greedy pussy, hngg..." Your insides felt so good, better than he ever imagined, you were so tight sucking him in like you were trying to rip off his cock. Was this what pussy felt like, or was this just you? Seeing what a slut you were, he didn't think you were even a virgin. And yet your velvety walls wrapped around his shaft in a snug fit inside that scorching, pulsating heat, Shigaraki couldn't imagine anything else comparing to it.

He couldn't stop himself as he began thrusting his cock into your hole, pulling only slightly before sinking back, selfishly unwilling to let go of that delirious sensation around his length. The harder he snapped his hips, the better it felt, his balls throbbed as they slapped against your plump ass.

"Tomura, i-it hurts....mmm, oh!" Tears swelled in your eyes, and yet your hips were needly sinking on his cock like there was anything else of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pain, and your were soon arching your back and bouncing on his cock with all your might.

"Guess neither of us are virgins anymore, huh?" You panted with a laugh. Shigaraki froze then for a second, his eyes stared at your face contorted by pain and pleasure with wide eyes, enraptured and burning with something a little hotter than desire. A virgin, so even after the truth of your character, you really were as untainted as he thought.

Shigaraki was scrapping your virgin insides with his cock, truly making you filthy in the most pure sense of the word. He was tainting you, breaking you, the perfect girl everyone adored.

That was it, Shigaraki cursed under his breath as he pulled out, earning a confused and disappointed sound of from your lips, that then became a little help when he grabbed the back of your legs and pushed them up, bending them against your chest. He positioned himself over you and stuffed his cock back inside, thrusting into you as hard as he could, taking up a new merciless pace. In that new position, both of you could feel him reaching even deeper inside you, the engorged head on his cock hitting the entrance of your cervix, that little orifice sucking at his tip like it was begging for his filthy, fertile seed. The thought made him fuck you even harder, the image of him pouring his cum inside you and impregnating your insides.

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura!!"

His name was a chant on your lips, arms thrown around his shoulders to pull him closer. You could smell the sweat and grime on his hair, and the thought someone so gross like him was taking you made your insides flutter and twist with the build up of an orgasm. "Tomura, don't stop, fuck...don't stop!!"

He didn't and soon you were clamping on his cock, your orgasm making you so tight that Shigaraki was shooting his load too reaching an abrupt climax, pleasure hitting him as his cum flooded your insides with its warmth, painting your walls white and filling up your womb until it was overflowing out of you, steaming down your thighs and ass onto his bedsheets.

It was like a dream, the best dream he had ever had. And he would've thought that it was nothing but a dream, too. If not for the arms that were still clinging to him and refusing to let go, the pretty mouth breathing against his ear.

"Tomura, you...really are disgusting." A satisfied voice filled with disgust, and affection. His cock began hardening inside you and you barked a laugh.

He hated you for that, and he loved you for that. The perfect girl everyone wanted, that was just so perfect for him too.

[k3lynn]

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

-

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

.

.

.

I’m going to kill him.

-

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

© 2021 k3lynn, do not modify or repost without permission

[floralbuckley]

Orange Trees and Royalty - A Wilmon Drabble

I would recommend listening to my light academia playlist whilst reading this, specifically Sweet Creature, Today Was a Fairytale, Northern Italy, and You Are In Love...

As Simon looks up, his eyes open in absolute wonder and amazement, and he swears he’s never seen anything more spectacular in his life. Gorgeous windows lining the outside up to the third story, the gold trimming painted on them glowing against the sunlight. He could make out the lacey curtains behind them, and the corners of his mouth turn up shyly at the thought of Wilhelm’s bedroom hidden behind one of those curtains. The lush green grass is perfectly trimmed, so bright and inviting against the pale cream walls of the Palace. He wants to take his shoes off and run across the lawn, feel how each blade would feel in between his toes as he skipped along and brushed his fingertips across the foliage of the trees.

But he knew better.

Now was the time for proper manners and tucked-in shirts and warm smiles full of grace and poise. Not childish behaviours that could end up flooding every news website in Sweden. He could just see the headline now: “Boyfriend of His Royal Highness, Prince Wilhelm, runs like a crazed monkey across the front lawn on his first visit to Stockholm Palace.”

Exactly what he doesn’t need right now.

Simon feels a hand on his back, and he turns to see the driver, a polite smile on his face as he begins to make his way toward the Palace. Simon, however, feels frozen in his spot. His grubby vans and green shirt feel so plain and out of place compared to the magnificent building in front of him. And suddenly, he wants to run home and change, or smooth out his wrinkled shirt, or put a buttoned-up blazer on. Or do anything to make him feel like he actually belongs here.

He turns his gaze away from the driver and up to the castle, and there he is. Prince Wilhelm. The lace curtain of the very left window on the third floor is pushed to the side, and all Simon can see is that mop of blonde and that toothy smile, and it’s exactly what he needs. The face of the boy he loves is enough to settle any single shred of doubt in his chest.

As a small smile settles on his face, Simon closes his eyes. Breathes in deeply. Takes in the scent of that perfectly cut grass and the orange trees and the pure dense amount of royalty surrounding him. And with a final breath, his eyes are open and his feet are moving and off he goes. Towards the front doors to fucking Stockholm Palace.

He doesn’t even need to knock. A rustle comes from inside the Palace, and suddenly the doors are shoved open and Wilhelm is rushing forwards, crashing into his boyfriends’ frame and almost knocking him over. Simon quickly wraps his arms around the taller boy whilst attempting to steady his balance, not wanting to look like a complete mess in front of the paparazzi—who are waiting by the car, cameras firmly grasped in hand as they snap shots. But it would seem the other boy has plans of his own.

All too quickly, their lips are pressed together, and giggles are escaping mouths and fingers are running through hair and happiness is spreading through chests.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Wilhelm says excitedly, pressing multiple kisses to Simon’s cheeks before giving them a gentle pinch. Simon lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, his dark curls covering his eyes, and he’s doing everything he can to not make a total ass out of himself in front of all of Sweden. But, God, he hasn’t seen Wilhelm since they graduated. Three whole months of being stuck in Bjärstad. And now that he’s finally here, he wants nothing more than to keep pressing their lips together.

But, again, Wilhelm most definitely has plans of his own. He grabs Simon's hand and pulls the shorter boy up the path and through the giant front doors he had just burst through. Then, without waiting for the driver to enter the Palace, Wilhelm pushes the doors closed and doesn’t waste a second before his lips are on Simon’s again, warm fingers gripping his boyfriends’ shirt and pulling him closer than ever. And Simon simply melts into it, his hands making their way from Wilhelm’s shoulders, sliding up to his neck and eventually resting on his jaw, his fingertips scratching at the base of his hairline.

They stay like that for what feels like forever, basking in the warm embrace of the person they love the most, mouths open and hearts beating so hard against each other’s chests.

And it’s a small cough that interrupts them. Simon lets out a groan of frustration. He turns, and it’s the driver, standing there with his eyes looking up at the roof and his hands locked together in front of him.

“Uh, did you still need me, Your Highness?” The driver questions, his gaze still averted. A small chuckle of embarrassment escapes Simon’s lips, and he rests his forehead on Wille’s shoulder.

“That’ll be all, thank you, Isak.” Wilhelm reaches his arm out, and the two shake hands before Isak nods his head and walks across the foyer of the Palace and through another door.

“Thank you, Isak,” Simon mocks in between giggles.

“Argh, shut up!” Wilhelm laughs, pressing more kisses to the other boys’ cheeks. Finally, he grabs Simon’s hand and starts to pull him further into the foyer towards more doors. “C’mon, I want to show you the grounds. They’re so pretty in summer.”

“Not as pretty as you,” Simon says quietly, lifting their intertwined hands and kissing the back of Wilhelm’s, who stops before they reach a large wooden door. The smile on his face is one full of amusement and raised eyebrows, and a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“That was so gross.”

Before Simon has time to respond, Wilhelm has dragged them through the door to reveal the back gardens, and Simon’s eyes are even wider than when he first pulled up to the estate. Small garden beds full of flowers and orange trees are placed all over the grounds, some with bird baths, others with a lemon or an apple tree next to the oranges, one even with a small river running through it. There is a brick pathway leading to an ample outdoor dining space with a huge wooden table, able to seat at least 50 people. Vines of ivy crawling up the archways with fairy lights hanging from the wooden beams above the table. The lawns are even lusher than the front garden, stretching on for a few hundred metres before it turns into the biggest lake Simon has ever seen, giant fir trees surrounding the body of water. There are two boats on the lake tied to the small pier, rocking back and forth slowly with the gentle breeze. To the left of the lake are tennis courts, and on the other side, Simon can see the pool that’s beyond the dining space—so large he’s sure that all 50 people who join them for dinner outside could also hop into the pool together after they eat.

Simon is in a state of wonder and amazement as he looks over the grounds, and everything is so perfect. And the boy holding his hand next to him makes everything feel even more perfect if that’s at all possible.

“Holy shit,” Simon breathes out. Next to him, Wilhelm chuckles. “I think I chose the right boyfriend.”

Wilhelm gives him a small shove, a huge toothy grin plastered on his face. “Hey, if I had known you were just after me for my money, I would never have kissed you first!”

“Well, good news for you then, because I kissed you first,” Simon says matter-of-factly. He licks his lips and juts them out, knowing just how much it drives his boyfriend crazy and also how badly he wants to win this faux argument.

It takes Wilhelm a few seconds of staring at Simon’s lips before licking his own and letting out a huff. “You so did not. You were walking away, and I pulled you back, and then I kissed you first.” He runs both his hands through his hair, letting the strands fall into his eyes—his own move that he knows Simon loves.

And Simon does. And he’s weak, and he can’t be bothered with this fake argument anymore. And now that there’s no press around, Simon wants to have some fun. So he kicks off his vans and takes off his socks, then, with a turn of his head, he’s off, running across the grounds towards the pool. His laugh rings through the air as he looks behind him to see Wilhelm chasing him.

“Come and get me!” He calls. “C’mon, Prince Wille, keep up!” Cheeky giggles escape his lips, and as he reaches the pool, he slows down and turns around. Wilhelm is catching up, and Simon makes the quick decision to start running again, this time towards the pier. After graduating from Hillerska, Simon had stopped rowing, and therefore his fitness levels had significantly dropped, and right now, he could definitely feel it. The aches in his legs, the heaving of his chest, the warmth in his face. But this is just too fun, and the blades of grass feel even better between his toes than he could have imagined.

Wilhelm’s footsteps are getting closer as Simon is closing in on the pier. He slows to a stop just before the small wooden bridge, his feet still firmly placed in the grass and his breaths coming out heavily. He watches his boyfriend running towards him, and he shouts, “Is that all you’ve got, Your Royal Highness?!” Laughs are escaping both their lips, and Wilhelm is slowing down as he gets closer to Simon.

Both boys stand silently for a moment as they try to catch their breath, huffs of air coming in and out of their mouths quickly. “You’re an asshole,” Wille says, the smile not leaving his face for a second as he runs his hands through Simon’s curls to mess them up.

“Good thing you love my asshole then, hey?” Simon replies, swatting his boyfriends’ hands away, a frustrated grunt escaping his lips.

“God! Shut up!”

Not giving him a second to reply, once again, Wilhelm’s lips are on Simon’s. And once again, they both melt into it instantly. And once again, it’s cut far too short then either of them would like. Simon feels a drop of something wet on his cheek, and as he pulls his mouth away from Wilhelm's, he wipes his cheek and looks up to the sky. Among their little running adventure, huge grey clouds have taken over the sky, angry and threatening to begin pouring at any moment.

And soon, that one drop becomes two, then three, then too many raindrops for Simon to keep count of. And they’re in his hair, and on Wilhelm’s cheeks, and Simon’s on hands, and covering Wilhelm’s shoulders.

And from head to toe, the two boys stand by the pier, sopping wet and completely drenched, Simon’s bare feet beginning to feel numb from the now wet and cold blades of grass. The summer sun is still beating down on them, warming their cheeks as they tip their foreheads so they’re touching, sounds of laughter and happiness tumbling out of their lips.

“I can’t believe I had to go without you for 3 whole months,” Wilhelm says, pressing a quick kiss to Simon’s lips.

“I guess we better go inside and make up for lost time,” Simon giggles in reply, returning Wille’s kiss with one of his own, slightly longer this time, however, and followed up by many more chaste kisses.

It felt like they were in their own world, just the two of them, alone finally, running around the Stockholm Palace gardens hand-in-hand. Not a care in the world. No school. No drama. No press surrounding them. They finally had their own little bubble of happiness to enjoy. And not just for a weekend or a two-week break this time, but for the entire summer. And damnit, were they going to make this the best summer of their lives.

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡ 

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally. 

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake. 

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to  understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps? 

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work. 

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear. 

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind. 

It’s pathetic, honestly. 

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!” 

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control. 

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too. 

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position. 

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. 

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband. 

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work. 

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself. 

 “Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little. 

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations. 

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag. 

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight. 

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of  a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house. 

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?” 

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself? 

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life. 

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!” 

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.” 

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it. 

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was. 

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied. 

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major. 

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist. 

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy. 

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.” 

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ” 

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?” 

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?” 

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat. 

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table. 

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands. 

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground. 

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out. 

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in. 

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined. 

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor. 

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what. 

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before. 

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.” 

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms. 

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?” 

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.” 

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled. 

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!” 

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!” 

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment. 

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.” 

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road. 

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people! 

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this. 

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew? 

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned. 

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.” 

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!” 

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally. 

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up. 

Game 

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen, 

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear.  If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.” 

Rules: 

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto. 

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!? 

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.” 

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding. 

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly. 

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.” 

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.” 

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward. 

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead. 

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant. 

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second. 

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide” 

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well. 

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was. 

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group. 

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.” 

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind. 

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.” 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.” 

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued. 

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,” 

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?” 

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.” 

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster? 

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.” 

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!? 

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot. 

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart. 

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was. 

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame? 

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away. 

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind. 

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.” 

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least. 

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done. 

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together. 

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.” 

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you? 

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.” 

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.” 

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!” 

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?” 

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out. 

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.” 

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off. 

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed. 

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open. 

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly? 

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner. 

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone. 

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!” 

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it. 

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?” 

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.” 

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.” 

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?” 

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.” 

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution. 

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure. 

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!” 

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half. 

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…” 

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side. 

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place. 

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?” 

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.” 

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers. 

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?” 

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!” 

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….! 

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open. 

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps. 

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed. 

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life. 

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement. 

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more. 

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was. 

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head. 

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd. 

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little. 

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one. 

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream. 

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant. 

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.” 

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!” 

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance. 

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.” 

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?” 

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.” 

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?” 

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

[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. 

[offbeatcappuccino]

sundays are indeed romantic ~ hometown cha cha cha (overview and personal thoughts)

The first time my parents took me to Catalina Island, I was enamored with the little seaside town and while I was letting the seawater wash against my feet, I had a cute little daydream. I imagined myself moving to Catalina Island after my first heartbreak. I would find a job working as a doctor at their small clinic and live in the Wrigley mansion. I would eat fish and chips three times a day and spend my days walking on the beach as I attempt to slowly piece my life back together. Hometown Cha Cha Cha embodies my teenage fantasy in many ways. It's a show rooted in community, positivity, and growth.

The protagonist of Hometown Cha Cha Cha is Dr. Yoon Hye Jin. She's a young dentist living in Seoul. She goes on morning runs, lives in a skyscraper-like apartment building, and drinks fancy wine. Things change dramatically for Yoon Hye Jin when she quits her job and her former boss prevents her from being able to get a job at any other clinic. Inspired by the memories of her dead mother, Dr. Hye Jin makes a visit to Gongjin, a small seaside town. However, things go downhill for our uptight city girl, when she loses her shoes, her car's battery dies, and Hye Jin realizes that she is effectively stranded. Thankfully, the male lead, Hong Du Sik helps Hye Jin find a place to stay for the night. The means through how he does this is quite unconventional. He makes Hye-Jin dissect squids and the accommodation he offers is the cold hard floor of a sauna. Through all of these events, we realize that Du Sik, affectionally called Chief Hong, is practically running this whole town. He fishes works as a barista, grocery cashier, sauna attendant, makes soap, and fixes cars. The trip to Gongjin is transformational for Hye Jin and she ultimately decides to move to Gongjin and open a dental clinic after hearing about the unmet need that the town's residents have for dental care.

Fate forces Hye Jin to spend even more time with the peculiar yet upbeat Du Sik when he happens to be the town's only real state agent and renovation contractor. Along with her friend Pyo Mi Seon, Yoon Hye Jin sets up a small clinic with a breathtaking view of the ocean. However, her transition to Gongjin is nothing short of bumpy. When Hye Jin is ranting about how weird and improper all the residents of Gongjin are, her phone call gets accidentally broadcasted for the whole town to hear. No one shows up to her clinic and to make matters worse, she's left constantly dealing with awkward side-eyes from her new neighbors. Du Sik rightfully calls out Hye Jin for her elitism and through the first couple of episodes, we see Hye Jin slowly break through a wall of judgment and prejudice with the help of Du Sik. Simultaneously, we see Du Sik realize that there's more to Hye Jin beyond her icy demeanor. She cares deeply about her patients and friends and yearns deeply for love and affection. Though every episode sometimes feels like two steps forward five steps back for the relationship between the two leads, in the end, their relationship has reached another level of depth and understanding. Right, when romance seems to blossom between the two, the drama thickens, and we are introduced to the dreaded "just as amazing second lead", a classic k-drama trope that will forever haunt the romance genre.

After a summer of watching tragic and dark dramas, Hometown Cha Cha Cha felt like a breath of fresh air. It's a drama that shows how relationships are done the right way. Unlike Nevertheless, we don't seem to have a complicated and problematic male lead and the chemistry between Shin Min Ah and Kim Seon Ho feels refreshing and organic. While at its core, Hometown Cha Cha Cha is a warm fuzzy romantic comedy, it's also a show that explores what it truly means to be successful. Hye Jin embodies our traditional notions of success. She's a rich hot dentist and her success is largely tied to the material. On the other hand, despite graduating top of his class at Seoul National University, Du Sik words odd jobs, and his success is directly related to the warmth that he feels from being a part of the Gongjin community. Not only are the characters of the show being confronted with this ideological conflict, but we are also gently nudged to reflect on our own values and goals. Many times while watching Hometown Cha Cha Cha, I felt prompted by the storyline to call my grandmother in India. The scenes portraying the relationship between a father and daughter prompted me to think about my own dad and the many cherished experiences that I had with him. Hometown Cha Cha Cha is more than a show. It's an experience that allows us to relive some of the happiest and saddest moments of our past that shape us as individuals. It's also a gentle reminder to embrace the new adventures and people that we might encounter in the future.

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Izuku Follows Katsuki's 'Advice' Only To Be Intercepted By A Girl.

Edited: 4-21-2021

'Sorry kid, it's not gonna happen.'

For as long as Izuku could remember he had wanted to be a hero. The same old video of All Might he had watched a million times filled him with such an unspeakable feeling. Filled him with hope, and happiness. A hope and happiness he wanted to share with others. An inspiration he wanted to give other people.

Even at the ripe age of four, Izuku didn't let the doctor's words deter him. Even though he was told he was quirkless, even though he knew he would not have the same advantage as others on the hero field, Izuku wanted to achieve his dream. He wanted to achieve his dream, to grasp it, to live it, and make it his reality. Even though Izuku should've given up right then and there in the doctor's office, he persisted, he smiled.

'You know if you really wanna be a hero that badly, there actually might be another way. Just pray that you'll be born with a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.'

Izuku tried to manage his dream. Even up until the age of fourteen, he was attempting to achieve those plans he made at four years old. Holding the hero notebook in his hands, the wet notebook that contained all of his notes on the heroes he'd taken an interest in since he was diagnosed, Katsuki's words ring through his head.

How could he say that? Izuku knows he's right. He's right, Kacchan is always right. But Izuku can't give up that hope in his chest. He can't give up these dreams he's been having. He can't let go of those substantial visions. He needs to have it, he needs to grasp it for himself. He can't just turn tail now, he needs to train, he needs to apply to UA and achieve. Izuku did not give up hope in the doctor's office, and he was not going to give up hope by the coy pond, instead, he smiled like a hero. He smiled and made his way home.

'This job isn't easy, pro-heroes are always having to risk their lives. Some villains just can't be beaten without powers, so no, I honestly don't think you can become a hero without a quirk.'

He persisted. He smiled. He tried to achieve his dream. He tried to achieve it, he tried to put on that smile and fake it when he felt like he couldn't, but the reality was staring him down in the face.

Izuku hadn't imagined he'd be captured by a villain, a sludge villain. Of all the criminals in the area, it had to be a low B ranked villain. Out of all the B-ranked villains, Izuku never imagined All Might, the world's greatest hero, his hero, would've shown up to save him. He also never imagined that he would have discovered All Might's real identity. He couldn't help but ask him that question, the question of whether someone quirkless like himself, could become a hero like him.

He wanted a different answer. He wanted to be reassured by his idol. He wanted to be told that it was manageable, that he could have a future in heroism if he worked hard enough. His ears rang as All Might's words came out. Even as he left, leaving Izuku on the rooftop alone, his ears were ringing. He stood there for a while, tears dribbling down his cheeks. If the world's greatest hero didn't think he could do it then why should he? If the symbol of hope and peace didn't believe in him, why should he? Kacchan was right, he was a failure. He was pathetic and defenseless. He should just take a swan dive off the building.

Izuku couldn't believe the words running through his head, but he couldn't stop them once they began rolling. He was pathetic, he was a failure. How humiliated his mother must've felt having to have such a failure as a son. People talked, the woman in his neighborhood talked. Often, Izuku could hear the old woman bragging about the children, and he knew he would never be bragged about. The more he thought about it, the more Izuku felt drawn to the ledge.

Izuku was broken out of his dark reverie and thoughts as a young woman bursts through the door, and not even seeing or noticing Izuku's presence, runs straight for the ledge. She couldn't have been any older than him, and she had tears running down her cheeks. As she slipped her shoes off and began to discard her sweater Izuku was quick to jump into action. Without even thinking his legs started moving after her.

"Hey, don't do it! Please..."

By the time Izuku had reached the girl, she was barefoot up on the ledge, hair blowing wildly in the wind. Izuku smiled up at her, the kind of smile All Might gave, the smile he'd been trying to imitate for years. Tears slid down the girl's cheeks as she turned around and stared at him with what Izuku could only describe as empty.

"It's okay, just come down."

Izuku tried his best to coax you down without scaring or startling you. You stumbled a bit but quickly caught your balance as Izuku took slow, careful steps closer to the edge.

"This has nothing to do with you, why do you care?!"

"Because- Because that's not what a hero would do! I can't just sit idly by and let someone throw their life away like that. Just come down, you don't wanna do this."

"I can't! You don't know me, you don't understand-"

"Then explain it to me. Make me understand, just don't do this."

More tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked down at the roads below the building. You should just jump, every cell in your body urged you to jump but looking down at the boy stopped you. Hearing him yell with such pleading, seeing him smile so indignantly, prevented you from moving. The least you could do was hear him out first, he was taking the time to coax you out of a decision you couldn't deter yourself from.

"I'm a failure. I'm a pathetic failure. I'm quirkless, and I know that's a stupid reason to jump... But being a hero runs in my family, and if I can't be a hero I have nothing. Everyone at school ridicules me, and while she says otherwise, I know my mom resents me for not continuing the legacy."

"Don't worry about what other people think, hold your head high and plunge forward."

"That's not enough. I'm such a failure, I'm a waste."

You take a small step backward, almost ready to jump down and catapult yourself to your death but Izuku screams out again preventing you.

"Stop! Wait! Sometimes I do feel like I'm a failure like there's no hope for me. I'm quirkless too, and my hero told me I can't become a hero, but even so, I'm not gonna give up. Ever!"  

You halt your tracks at Izuku's words, turning around again to look at him. He was quirkless, yet he dreamed of being a hero. He was told by his hero he couldn't be one, yet he was persisting.

"You really think you can be a hero?"

You're about to turn tail. You're about to step down, off, and away from the ledge when your foot slips. Just the slightest shift made you begin to fall. You scream, expecting to fall off the building, but instead, Izuku jumps up the ledge. He stumbles a bit but wraps his arms around you, and flings his body towards the building. By the time you're processing what happened, you're pulled off the ledge and collapsing in the arms of the boy on the ground.

"Why did you do that?! You could've fallen down!"

"Because I think I can be a hero, and I think you can be one too."

Although that day you thought Izuku saved you, you had actually saved him from jumping himself, something he wouldn't tell you until he built up the courage to ask you out after you both graduated from UA.

[sierraraeck]

Bad Liar

Moreid (Spencer x Derek)

Masterlist

Summary: Ever since his first day at Quantico, Spencer has had only one thought on his mind: SSA Derek Morgan. He knows that any sort of relationship would be inappropriate, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of fantasies from flooding his mind.

Category: Spicy fluff, smut alluded

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of sex, fantasizing, suggestive touching, kissing, very light cussing.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. I know that I haven’t been very active and haven’t posted anything in a while, but sometimes life just happens. Hopefully this was worth the wait…

Spencer had heard the phrase “I never stop thinking about you.” He’d heard it in reference to love and relationships when people were apparently so madly in love they couldn’t stop thinking about the other. He never really bought that. Love was just a bunch of feel-good chemicals that couldn’t affect the amount of time spent thinking about another person. Plus, how could anyone ever constantly think about a person? There were so many other things to think about like surviving high school, getting into college, graduating, of course his mom, and then getting into the FBI, and how he would surely not be able to make it all the way through Quantico training. No one could ever think about one person all the time. No, definitely not.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

His first day at Quantico he saw Derek Morgan, and he realized that he was wrong. He was so utterly and outrageously wrong.

Because after he saw him, heard his voice just once, his exceptional mind kept those interactions on constant repeat.

He was lucky he was so good at multitasking otherwise he would have definitely failed by now.

Not like he still wouldn’t.

He couldn’t sleep, not with someone like Derek Morgan intruding his every thought, every midnight desire. On top of that, they were about to go into the hardest week of physical training yet, and Spencer knew that this was the one challenge that his brain could not overcome.

The one redeemable thing about the humiliating experience he was sure would come during the following days was that he’d get to see SSA Morgan again. Sure, it'd be more embarrassing to fail in front of him, but at least he’d get to see him a few more times before they kicked him out for being the scrawny kid he’s always been.

The feelings of excitement and anxiety twisted his gut into a wonderful knot, keeping him from yet another night of sleep. Somehow that made it both harder and easier for him to get up when the clock hit 4:45.

Spencer looked between two blinds covering the window on the right, allowing him to see that the sun was still about an hour from rising. Slipping on his given shirt and pants, he hoped that there would be some source of caffeine at breakfast, preferably coffee.

He trudged into the bathroom to find his roommate already awake and dressed. “Big day. You excited?” Jeff, a man about a head shorter than Spencer but at least twice his width in pure muscle mass, asked.

Spencer just grunted in response.

“What? You’re not excited to get pitted against someone else so that you can flail around in an attempt to spar?”

“I’ll stick to teaching you the technique,” he quipped.

Jeff laughed. “It’d suit you better. Unfortunately your wizard brain and forbidden library won’t help you in this one. But dammit if you aren’t the smartest guy here.” Jeff shook his head as if it were a shame.

Once they were ready, along with the rest of the NATs, the group was directed to jog across campus to the building they’d be training in. The day was off to a bad start.

Spencer did his best to distract himself from the actual running bit, trying to analyze the people in his group and those they passed as they went.

Bored, hungry, important, invisible… Derek?!

He turned his head to follow the tall man with short black hair and dark eyes as the group passed him on the sidewalk.

No, that wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. Agent Morgan is waiting for us at the facility.

Spencer tried to hide the slight disappointment that came over him. He felt so stupid for looking for him everywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Even his own knowledge and logic was failing him when it came to this man he knew next to nothing about expect for his shining smile and intense eyes and toned biceps and amazing abs and powerful legs and delicious stamina and strong hands that could grip his neck and hold him down and his defined hips bones that Spencer knew would dig into his thighs and certainly leave bruises if he were to…

What was his issue? He couldn’t be thinking that way about one of his trainors.

Although it helped the jog pass by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? Or at least imagining having fun.

When they arrived at the other facility, they were provided a quick breakfast, unfortunately no coffee today, and then led to the top floor with an entire wall traded out for floor to ceiling windows.

The room they entered was massive, large mats rolled out edge to edge, and the smell was musty. It felt humid, sticky sort of, and Spencer hated to think about why that was.

He quickly scanned the room and found his target immediately. Across the way, Derek had his opponent mid flip, landing harshly on his back with a thud. He helped the poor guy up, laughing a bit as he did so. His pearly whites were on full display when he looked up and caught Spencer’s eye. Spencer quickly diverted his gaze, opting instead to look down at his twisting hands.

“Today we will be focusing on hand to hand combat,” Derek announced once the group had wandered closer. “You never know when the perpetrator will decide not to run and instead to attack you, or when you will find yourself without any weapons other than yourself to protect you. The first thing we are going to practice are some basic jabs. Grab a partner and follow our demonstration.”

Derek and the man he’d thrown on the ground earlier, Grant, demonstrated the seemingly simple movements that Spencer and the rest of the NATs were supposed to replicate. Of course, everyone else made it look easy, but Spencer just couldn’t wrap his head around what his arm was supposed to be doing where and when. It was frustrating, even more so than he’d prepared himself for.

“Keep your shoulders here,” that velvety deep voice said, accompanied by his large hands on either of Spencer’s shoulders, adjusting them to more of an angle.

All Spencer could do was swallow hard and nod. He didn’t even dare to look back at him.

“And spread your legs,” Derek said. His breath seemed to get closer to Spencer’s neck with every word, and quieter as he went along. But surely that was all in his head? Right?

Spencer’s startled eyes turned to look at the older man. The edges of his mouth twitched before resuming that stern, professional demeanour. “It’ll help you balance.” With that, he nudged Spencer’s foot farther backwards with his own and walked away, leaving Spencer feeling unnecessarily exposed and confused.

The guy across from him, Harold, one of the only people who had been genuinely nice to Spencer from the start, was watching the whole interaction with suspicion.

The day trudged on with not much change. Spencer’s skin was still on fire from where Agent Morgan had touched him, but he tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t really like being touched. He knew that was a lie, especially in this instance, but it didn’t stop him from telling it.

After lunch, training continued. But at least it got more interesting.

“Grant just got called out on a case, so I’ll be needing someone to help me with this demonstration.” Derek waited just about three whole seconds before smirking, the mischief written all over his face. “Come on? No one wants to volunteer? It’ll be fun, I promise.” When he was met with more silence (even the guys like Jeff didn’t want to be thrown around by Derek), he was forced to choose someone. “How about… Reid.”

Spencer’s head shot up from the back of the group. No, no, this is not good.

Spencer had been dreaming about getting thrown around by Derek for a few months now, but this was definitely not what he’d had in mind.

The crowd slowly parted and Spencer had to face the music; he was going to be humiliated in front of everyone, like nothing had changed since high school.

Sighing, Spencer forced himself to the front of the group. “Lay down for me, knees bent, would you?”

I’d do anything you asked, was Spencer’s initial response in his head. What he really did was shrug and follow instructions.

“The reason we practice this move is because at some point or another, you will find yourself in either position.” Spencer wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until Derek legitimately stood over him, a leg on either side, then proceeded to get down on his knees, essentially sitting on top of Spencer.

He couldn’t even focus on what Derek was explaining anymore. Breathing didn’t exist. There was no way this glorious man was sitting on top of him right now. All he could think about was how prominent Derek’s ab muscles were through his tight shirt and how he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and run his tongue over them. Spencer could almost imagine what they would feel like; the rise and fall of his muscles, the small hairs covering his body… Spread your legs, he had said to him.

“So then Reid would grab my wrist…” Derek’s use of his name brought him back to reality. If only he could live in his fantasies for longer.

Spencer looked up at Agent Morgan confused. Derek’s eyes got wider and looked at his right hand and then down at his own left wrist. Spencer somehow got the message and reached his hand over to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist. “Good,” he declared. “After that, he would hook his left foot on the outside of my ankle.”

Spencer quickly followed orders, trying to force his brain to supply him with the information he’d missed.

“Then, he’d use my weight against me to flip me over.” Spencer’s eyes got big when Derek said that, mentally panicking that he could never be strong enough for that. Derek nodded at him, so Spencer tried to roll over, and to his, and everyone else’s, surprise, he actually could.

Within seconds Spencer was sitting on top of a very pleased Derek. “It’ll work every time. Of course, if your unsub is skilled he’ll lock you in and flip you back over and potentially pull your arm out of your socket,” Derek explained while doing just that to Spencer, minus the arm-out-of-socket thing, “But we’ll take this one step at a time.”

Derek was back on top of Spencer with his legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip, but quickly let go to help him up. Spencer gladly accepted the help.

Spencer doesn’t exactly have what one would consider a “big dick.” He always thought that was something to be ashamed of but standing there, getting hard in the middle of an FBI training academy, he couldn’t’ve be more grateful.

The NATs were sent back to work on the newly demonstrated move with their partners. Just as Spencer was about to flip Harold over for the third time, he looked over his head and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“What is it with you two?” Harold asked in return.

“What?” Spencer repeated. Harold nodded in the direction he was just looking, and Spencer followed his gaze. Derek was walking by, but nothing else seemed of import. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Harold snorted. He was a lanky man like Spencer, but just a bit shorter and with glasses. Sometimes Spencer envied his glasses, as his contacts often got on his nerves. He continued, “The touching, the constant eye contact, the word choice that could be inherently sexual, and then literally sitting on top of you? When there were plenty of other men and women he could have picked for that demonstration? Tell me you don’t see it.”

Spencer mulled over these words for a few seconds before flipping Harold over. Looking down on him, he said, “I don’t think that means anything.”

“Then maybe you need to get a new prescription,” Harold said, pointing to his eyes.

Spencer shook his head. “What do my eyes have to do with this?”

Harold sighed. “God, your gaydar is so broken.” He flipped Spencer over, stood up, and walked away.

Shortly after, class was called and they were all let go for the remainder of the evening.

“Reid, can I speak to you for a moment?” Agent Morgan called out as the first of the NATs started to leave. A few caught Spencer’s eye with unanswered questions in them, but no more than the mound of questions Spencer had been asking himself.

Without answering, Spencer walked over to the corner of the room that Derek was standing in. He could tell that he was waiting for every single person to leave the room before speaking.

Spencer thought for sure he was getting kicked out because of how horribly he performed throughout the day.

To his surprise, that’s not at all what the outstandingly attractive man had to say. “I wanted to let you know that you did a good job today during the demo. Not many people handle that so well.”

Spencer waited for him to say more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. Derek actually seemed a bit nervous if Spencer could read him right. He replied cautiously, “Thanks.”

Derek cleared his voice and said, “Yeah. And if you ever want to stay late and work on some moves I’d be happy to help.”

Spencer just got more and more confused as his interactions with this god-like man increased. “Thanks,” he repeated. “Why are you offering to help me like that?”

Agent Morgan shrugged. “You’re one of the smartest people in FBI history to come through here, and definitely the youngest. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t become an agent, and I want to see you succeed. That’s all.” He shrugged again, and if there was anything Spencer had learned from the profiling section of his training, someone being over-casual was usually a sign that they were stressed about something they viewed with extreme importance, and were trying to play it off. Why would he be stressed to talk to me?

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Will you be here tomorrow?” Spencer asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice. Who was he kidding; Derek was already one of the top profilers in the Bureau.

“I will be. You can plan to stay after then.”

Spencer nodded and walked away, but not before glancing back one more time. Harold was right; they did make a lot of eye contact.

The next day couldn’t go by faster. Spencer had spent practically the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, trying to figure out if Harold was right or not. There was no way. Spencer was just Spencer, a NAT, and Derek Morgan was, well… Derek Morgan.

He probably just thought that Spencer was a hopeless case and needed extra help. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

When the day was over, Spencer wasn’t just relieved like he usually was, but he was excited too. It no longer mattered to him what the reason was for him being there late, he just wanted to spend more time in the presence of SSA Morgan.

“I was thinking I’d help you with that second move we learned today, the cross-punch jab combo,” Derek announced. His voice echoed just a bit off the walls of the training center now that it was completely abandoned.

He walked over to one of the punching bags lined up just a few feet from the wall, and Spencer followed him in a manner that could only be described as a lost puppy. Spencer could keep track of all sorts of numbers, but the sheer amount of repeating memories morphing into new thoughts morphing into full blown fantasies was even too high for him to count. He’d never known of a drug so powerful.

“I’ll show you the move again, then I want you to try and copy it.” Derek stepped closer to the bag and executed a textbook one-two combo, the muscles in his arms and back contracting in perfect unison. God, Spencer wanted so badly to just reach out and run his hands all over this pristinely sculpted man, but he denied himself, letting his hands tremble in place instead.

Spencer stepped up to the bag next to Derek’s and attempted to do the same thing. Derek watched with a sharp eye.

After a few reps, the skilled agent took long strides that landed him only inches away from the younger man’s back. “Keep tension here.” His hands engulfed Spencer’s waist and twisted them to the side with the ease of swatting a fly.

The feeling was so overwhelming Spencer thought he might never be able to move again, and honestly, he didn’t want to. Standing there in the grip of that man was really all he’d been wanting for months now.

The only thing that pulled him out of his trance was the way Derek’s fingers lingered as he walked around to Spencer’s front, drifting down far enough to send a clear message, one that even Spencer couldn’t miss, but not far enough to be completely intrusive.

But Spencer wanted intrusive. He wanted nothing more than for Derek Morgan to invade his personal space to the point of no return.

He looked at the older man with shock and a burning question, but didn’t flinch or move back. Derek simply bit his lip and scanned Spencer up and down at what felt like a snail’s pace. He felt like a helpless deer being sized up by a lion for his next meal.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d been wanting nothing more than to be in this very same situation, or one of the multitudes of variations he’d created in his mind, but now that it was here could he really go through with it? Was it really the best idea? Did he really want this? No, he couldn’t.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

The only signal Derek needed was the simple nod of Spencer’s head.

And he got it.

Like a snake ready to strike, Derek brought his lips to Spencer’s in an instant. His questioning fingers had an answer, returning to their strong hold over Spencer’s hip bones.

Spencer knew what was happening was completely inappropriate, but couldn’t find the will to care. The man he’d been dreaming about, spending every waking and non-waking moment obsessing over, was actually interested in him too.

All his fantasies were flashing before his eyes, Derek’s muscles now completely exposed to him. He frantically pawed at him, trying to feel and memorize every millimeter of the beautiful body before him, like every inch was another drop of water in his achingly dry mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Derek whispered. “Patience. Not everything can happen at once, remember, one step at a time.”

Spencer took a moment to breathe and look into the warm eyes he’d been drowning in. Only for a moment, though, as he had a lot he wanted to do, starting with kissing his way down this man’s chest.

Derek laughed a little at Spencer’s impatience when he placed his hands on his broad shoulders and lips on his burning hot skin. He didn’t mind, though. Unexpectedly, the young man knew how to use his mouth. He couldn’t wait to explore that particular skill set some more.

Within the next few minutes, bodies were slammed into walls, forced to the ground, and pushed further down into the floor than was previously thought possible. The echo of the room only amplified the intoxicating sounds and the wall of windows overlooking the campus only increased the arousal.

Spencer would have a new appreciation for the musty smell and sweat induced humidity in the room from now on.

The tension for the remaining month before the NATs graduated was unbearable. Harold made sure to point out the nauseating amount of glances passed between the two men, but was respectful enough to not point it out to everyone. He tried to deny anything had happened, but Harold wasn’t having any of it and let Spencer know he was a lousy liar, something he definitely needed to work on.

Come graduation day when all NATs would be receiving their department assignments, Derek made sure to personally hand Spencer his.

He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper with one bolded line reading: “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Spencer immediately looked up and locked eyes with Derek. He simply smirked in return.

Maybe his fantasy of having something more with the agent would become a reality after all.

-

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