#prompts listed in my notes app will now get some attention

[writingstoraes]

FINALLY on break will try to write some of the requests now hehehe

[suhjihanma]

☩ ℑ𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔅𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔰 ☩

☩Kink (10) : Age-gap. ☩Pairing: Toji Fushiguro / Female Reader ☩Word Count: 1,951 ☩Content Warning: Barely legal, massive age-gap (reader recently turned 18. Toji hinted towards late 30s-early 40s), turning of legal age, dirty talk, mentions of suggestive sexting, hooking up, building experience inside the bedroom, hints of a no-string relationship, mentions of teachings, Toji simply wants to 'corrupt' your purity even more. ☩Author's Note: This kink can skirt around the contents that may be disturbing. You have been warned. Minors, kink shamers, and ageless blogs do not interact. I was originally supposed to post this yesterday, but my period cramps had me in a choke hold. If you're curious enough to read, then likes and reblogs are much appreciated. Also, I will post an updated master list post tomorrow since tumblr decided to hide my posts regarding kinktober on my blog. Funny since they're others roaming around this site with nudes.

The feeling of the premature cool breeze grazed gently across the tall yet beautifully builded back of a man who was quite certain that he was under prepared. As to why he was waiting in the breeze questioning his life choices, Toji Fushiguro couldn’t pass on an opportunity that was going to be placed in front of him sooner than not.

Sunset was pulling its curtain across the city skyline as he waited patiently in the cold, with the slight occurrence of becoming one second of timidness. The street lights continuously flicker along with the crowd passing along the grit filled sidewalks. Toji’s head, that was occupied with the numerous profiles of women with ‘copy-catted’ personalities, now gain attention to the passing masses. People that had plans to attend, memories to create, and all other things that Toji could mention off the head. It wasn’t as if he was a people-watcher, but he wanted something to get his mind off from things. 

It was one of those things where he continuously questions his moral rights and wrongs. He could be better than any man yet, he steers across things that have no genuine value. As the activity of people watching began to bore the mind of an anxious wait, Toji quickly fumbled across the screen of his phone, tapping and swiping through every profile that garnered the attention of the personal male gaze. Endless body dresses that hugged tightly across well graved curves, smiles that brighten the room of a nightclub, and to even the pestering pets that seemed to be across every photo, Toji’s endless swipes of a potential could gain him more satisfaction than seeing it in person. 

The eyes cater to the imagination, after all.

Besides the careless decisions of choosing which profile to like or dislike on, Toji had already picked out someone to meet up in person. It was not wrong, per se, to just slowly kill time by waiting for someone. Someone that piqued his interest while being on the so-called “god-forsaken” dating app. A person who actually had some personality of sorts, and didn’t follow any ridiculous social trends that were making its way across users in the social media age. 

That person was you.

It all started with a conversation about the concepts of luck. Some are born with it, others have to try their damndest to reach the pinnacles of it. A snarky comment was made on one of your dating prompts that was listed on your profile. You answered a question about “What was your luckiest night?” and you stated you won three gambling scratch-offs in one week (but you didn’t mention how all three scratch-offs were given to you on your birthday). Now, Toji and you were providing counterproductive arguments on skills, talents, and other unnecessary topics that grew away from the main topic at hand. As the topic became more intense, so did Toji’s findings of word choice.

Toji flipped over to the ‘messages’ section of the app and saw the conversations that he had with you, prompting the whole meetup. Prude, yet exhilarating as Toji was a man of pure excitement. The rush of overtly sexual heeds grew to be more enticing with every message being sent. 

“ If you want to test your luck, try it with me.” “Really? So corny, yet, I like it.” “You’re gonna like more when I’m pinning you down in that mattress.” “Oh my god.” “With clothes off that is” “So, are we just gonna be fucking on screen or meet in person?” “Coffee shop nearby the pier tonight.” “I’ll be there...”

Toji felt himself getting uncomfortable underneath his beltline. The stiffness slightly grew by each sigh, reminding himself of his behavior in public. Toji could feel like many women might find this off-putting. This could be the start of something. Anything. As a man pushing towards the doors of middle-age, chasing women who didn’t satisfy his needs became tiresome. What happened to a woman who wasn’t scared to become enticed by different things, to be put in her place, anything to be dominated by a man’s hands? Toji’s mind raced with every description as he looked up to the sky, clouds murked in gray while a faint, yet , gentle voice eloped his hearing. The faint question of a hello soon to get his attention as he looked over, eyes slowly widening with delight with a small smile on his face, wordlessly greeting the person standing in front. 

“Hello. Are you, Toji?” 

The woman that was standing in front of him made Toji want to ditch the formal etiquettes of greetings and engage in being the feral man that he is. The dark-colored dress didn’t do justice to man's imagination as he wondered what could be underneath that curvaceous frame. The ampleness of the breast weighed at the top, and the hair that was well kept even with the cool breeze that was circling around. A striking woman at that, Toji was lost for words until you greeted yourself again, this time with more of light humor.

“Yes.” He gulped. 

You couldn’t help but to smile at his sheepish nature. 

The continuous awe became more prevalent until you decided to cut the awkward-like air.

“My body can't be that amazing, can't it?” You suggestively curt your words with a smirk before sitting down on the bench Toji once previously sat on. Toji’s trance was soon broken as the humorous banter created an alleviating conversation. A scoff was made as Toji sat down next beside you. The infectious smile crept into a suggestive smirk of his own. 

“Body nice enough to make a man silent, that’s for sure.” Toji stated. The side of her hips was touching the fabric of his pants, along with the sweetly made body perfume that dances across his nostrils, the man’s gaze soon to be all over your body. Not that staring wasn’t any bad, but being beside you, the impure thoughts that Toji could dream of with any woman proved to be more strong.

 The phone that was placed snug in his pockets soon was taken out of his hands. As he glanced over your profile briefly, he looked over at the pictures before taking another well-studied glance at you. As he quietly studied the profile that was in his hands, a profile that reflected well on personality and mannerism, Toji decided it was best to engage with the bantering atmosphere. 

“Can’t believe that you’re young and have a body like this,” Toji compliments, noticing the age listed on your profile.

“Well…” Stammering your words, finding to complete your sentence grew to be hard as you looked down at the concrete before a sense of heat formed across your cheeks. Toji studied you with confusion before you blurted out something of personal social regret. 

“I just turned eighteen two weeks ago.” The redness grew to be more irritating as you looked at him with an awkward glance of regret. Embarrassing at best, you wished you could force your body to crawl into the fetal position, sulking at your social skills. The dooming head of shame became more strong as Toji stiffened his laughter. 

Dumbass.

“Forget you heard that.” You quietly grumbled, your head now downcasted to the dark concrete floor that made itself a platform of your designer heels. You wanted to curse yourself for saying such idiotic things in front of a man, yet for some reason, the air that surrounds you two grew to be quite forgiving. 

“Really? Barely legal.” Toji jokes before stiffening out another laugh. The continuous bantering that came from the older man grew to be tiring as you looked away towards him with a displeased expression. Toji looked over towards you and his face softened once the realization of the jokes became tasteless for the evening mood. “Forgive the jokes.” He apologized, placing his phone away in his pocket again before he rose from slumping on the bench. A posture that many men do not present when facing potential in a relationship. 

“You are forgiven, old man.” You joked, a genuine smile forms across the corners of your mouth. 

“Says the person who had ‘shitty’ sexual encounters.” Toji quotes you before smirking.

Seeing the eyebrows raised from the man next to you, you tutted quietly before tucking a strand of hair behind your ears. Toji’s expressions grew to be priceless as the gentle banterings ascended to deeper, yet sensual, conversing. 

Two eyes crossing one another, body warmth shared with being close under the chilled night sky. The scene had become more intense with the hints of hooking up. No strings attached. It wasn’t as you wanted casualness, you simply wanted someone experienced. Gone were the days of ‘shitty sexual encounters’ of sneaking off into your room or car, going down on some pubescent, raging teenager who couldn’t hold an orgasm for one minute (you gave those guys the catchphrase ‘one-minute-men’). Now, you stood against someone that had more experience than any other man you have been with. 

And, Toji was the perfect example of a well-experienced man.

Speaking of experiences, your mind randomly crossed over a conversation that you had with him in regard. Hearing his endless teasing and boasting about how women fawn over a man that has such ‘heavenly’ fingers is anything but ridiculous. Staring aimlessly at his sculpted thighs that hugged his black jeans ever so snuggly, your mind instantly plays the messages that were received and back.

“You might gain more experience with me, baby.” “Really now? How?” “Got to break that body somehow.” “Uh-huh.” “I can show you how to squirt. Suck a nice cock while getting played with a toy.” “There’s Pornhub for that, love.” “Yes, but how about it in real life?”

The mindless conversation of battling horniness soon waned as you now saw Toji looking over at you, his hands sneaking over to the waist that rested on the back of his arms. A gentle smile greets itself again before he whispers something in your ear. 

Toji simply wants to break you.

“Still want me to erase those ‘shitty encounters’ that you had? Fuck you so deep that you have a craving for older dick?”

The gruff voice that became smothered with honey and sin made you want to form a puddle between your legs. The bassness made every strand of your hair stand at the back of your neck as you looked at him with doe-like eyes, pondering about what move he will make next. With such grit, the filterless choice of words became more enticing that came from Toji’s smooth lips.

 The light in his eyes flickered as he looked over at you with eyes slightly narrowed. Eyes that showed his nature of being a fiend for everything that has such a semi-pure physique facing in front. Disgusting, many might seem to find, yet for Toji, it was something he couldn’t escape from, especially a woman like yourself, showing off every hint of piqued curiosity and pureness.

Hearing that sentence filled with gruffness in his tone of voice, you gulped quietly before answering his question, narrow eyes not leaving the blessed assets of your beauty. 

“And what if I don’t hold those strong cravings?” You lightly tease. 

Adding fuel to the fire only amplified Toji’s yearning for you as he got closer to your face before placing a chasteful kiss on your redden cheeks that now became heated with lust. 

“Then, I’ll just keep fucking you until you have them. Every day, every night.”

And with that, the two of you left your seats from the bench to grab the last batch of strong, roasted coffee within thirty minutes of closing time.

[tsukimefuku]

Photo, motto!

Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi are shocked to learn you have no social media accounts, and decide to change that. However, things don't go as planned.

wc: 1.6K

tags: jujutsu kaisen, just crack honestly, slow-burn Nanami x OC/Reader, some fluff if you squint, the chaotic trio being chaotic (I love them).

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and one-shots related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 

Disclaimer: these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

You were lazily flipping your finger on your phone's screen while you read an article on hydrangea's colors. Every time you flicked your finger, the phone took quite a few seconds to respond, rendering it a nearly daunting task. The thing was ancient by this point, but since you weren't much tech-savvy at all, you never bothered to get a new phone in these last 6 years.

The class was finished, and the first years were blabbering on about something. More specifically, Yuuji and Nobara were having a pretty heated debate about the best 'filter' — whatever the hell that was — to use on a photo before posting it, and Megumi sighed, refusing to break the tie between the two of them.

"Sensei!" Nobara exclaimed, pulling your attention.

"Hm, what?" You asked, having your eyes still glued to the screen of your phone, annoyed at how slow it was.

"We want to know if you find that a feed with no-filter photos is better than a feed with heavily edited photos!" Yuuji chirped in. "No filter is clearly better, real and all!"

"Are you two really going to harass sensei with that nonsense?" Megumi asked, annoyed.

"Of course! And just so you know, I want my pictures to look pretty, not realistic, duh." Nobara answered, not realizing Megumi had used the word nonsense.

"Oh, I can definitely tell that from your feed!" Yuuji replied jokingly, prompting Nobara to pull him by his collar, ready to sucker punch his face.

"What are you guys on about?" You finally asked, looking up. "Filter? Feed? What?"

They stopped for a second and the trio looked at you, perplex.

"You don't have a Picgram* account?" To your surprise, the one to ask that was Megumi. Even with the nonchalant facade, he was still a teenager, after all.

*Yes, I'm avoiding saying other social network names in this, sorry about the cringe.

"The what now?" You asked, earnestly, having Yuuji and Nobara look shell shocked.

"What do you mean you don't know what it is?" Nobara inquired, incredulous. "It's just the most famous social network in all of Japan!"

"Oh, I don't care much about those. I just use my phone for texts, calls, taking pictures, read, listen to music, and that's about it."

"Ah, sensei, you must create an account, then!" Yuuji said, spirited, releasing himself from Nobara's death grip and frolicking towards you.

"Hm, okay, I guess. Good luck trying to do anything on that phone, though" you said, having him sit beside you. After Yuuji took your phone on his hands — cracked screen, unkempt as hell, and clearly in overtime duty, his face contorted in horror.

Nobara came and stepped towards you both, taking in the decrepit state of your smartphone with her eyes.

"Sensei, maybe you should get a new phone?" Yuuji inquired, gently.

"Not maybe. Surely. This is just about to crumble to pieces" Nobara noted.

Megumi crept up behind the other two students.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad" you replied, scratching your head.

"It definitely is" Megumi stated, unprompted. "Jujutsu sorcerers are well paid, sensei. You can afford one."

"It's not that I can't afford one, Fushiguro, I just don't need a new phone" you replied, lifting an eyebrow in annoyance. "Just get on with it and do the thing."

"Eh, fine, fine!" Yuuji replied, opening your browser app. He basically set up your account, followed his own and Gojo's accounts, and then motioned himself by your side to show you how it worked.

"So, here are your messages" he pointed to the corner of the screen.

Obviously those were the text messages, that was a worldwide used icon since the nineties.

"I figured out that much, Itadori" you answered, asking yourself when did these teens begin thinking you were so technologically inept.

He cleared his throat and said, "sorry". 

You saw a message coming in from Gojo. Upon clicking, you and Yuuji waited for a few seconds until it opened. It was a greeting dog sticker. Of course.

"Well, and how does this work?"

"Down here, you can pick a photo to post, and you basically follow people on the app to see the photos they post, comment on them, give them a like and things like that!" Yuuji answered.

"Hey, Yuuji, did you have sensei follow me?" Nobara asked.

"Let me show her how to post a picture first" he lied, pressing on the plus icon.

When he pressed it, multiple images of flowers and plants appeared, having some landscapes sprinkled across your photo library.

"Oh, these are beautiful!" Yuuji said, delighted.

"Let me see!" Nobara exclaimed, butting her head beside Yuuji, and gasping. "Oh, the flowers, they're pretty!"

"Oh" you huffed out, smiling, slightly embarrassed. "Thank you, I guess."

Then, Yuuji and Nobara went silent for a moment, something very uncharacteristic for them.

"Hm?" You hummed.

They both seemed to be slightly blushing and said nothing.

"What is it?" Megumi asked, butting himself on Yuuji's other side and widening his eyes a little. "Oh. Uh..." He began, "I-I've been to that bakery, it's very good."

What the hell?

You got up and stood beside them, realizing that they had caught you red-handed. 

On the screen, was a picture you had taken of Nanami in one of your missions, clearly without him seeing it or noticing you did so. He just seemed so satisfied and happy munching on his ciabatta sandwich that you just had to take a picture of that.

"H-hey, just-" you stuttered, blushing violently. "Students, stop messing on my photo library!"

"I'm sorry!" Yuuji said, fumbling your phone back at you. It fell on the table, and when you got a hold of it again, your blood ran cold.

The photo had accidentally been posted.

"Uh?! Posted?! What?!" 

The trio paled in an instant.

"I- I'm so so so sorry, oh my-" Yuuji was stuttering, completely mortified, hands covering his mouth.

"God..." Megumi said, sighing deeply. "I'll be outside waiting for you guys to finish this."

"Itadori, stop. Stop talking" you stated, inhaling deeply. "Nobara, please delete this" you said, handing her the phone.

She tapped on the screen, first delicately, then stronger, following a sequence of angry, nervous taps.

"W-what? What is going on?" You inquired, also mortified.

"It's frozen" she answered. 

Oh, for fuck's sake.

***

Gojo was reveling on a matcha ice cream while he roamed the streets of Tokyo.

As the sorcerer walked, he got a notification on his phone. Upon checking, he realized you had followed him on Picgram, and promptly followed you back, sending his classic dog greeter on your DM's.

Given that he wasn't doing much, Gojo decided to doomscroll for a while, checking out the feed for some minutes, and realized there wasn't anything particularly interesting.

After refreshing, however, a photo of Nanami, that had clearly been taken without him noticing, appeared on his feed.

Checking the profile, Gojo realized you were the one to post the picture, and took a print-screen of it as he laughed mischievously to himself.

Oh, this is going to be fun, he thought as he opened his text messages with Nanami.

GS: Hey, Nanamin!

NK: Don't call me that. 

GS: I have something for you.

NK: ... What?

***

You and Nanami were at the usual bar for yet another drinking session after work. He had just told you about his mission for the day, and you were about to tell him about the students' debacle, just before stopping in your tracks. 

You were both silent for a few moments.

"So, do you remember that bakery? The one that has a great ciabatta with pesto that we went a few weeks ago?" He inquired, lifting his glass of whiskey to take a sip.

You looked at him suspiciously. "Yes, I remember."

"I think we should go there tomorrow. I wanted to try the newer options from the menu, their bread is exquisite" Nanami answered, still holding his glass up.

"Uh, sure, I guess." This is very sus.

"Maybe..." the ratio sorcerer said, gravely lowering his glass on the bar counter, "we should also take a picture, their food is very well presented, after all."

Oh, no.

"Nanami, I'm so so so sorry! I just thought you looked so happy with your sandwich, it was an accident, the first years are relentless, I didn't mean to-"

Nanami was clearly amused hearing your apologies as he nonchalantly took another sip from his drink, unwavering.

When you were done blabbering, Nanami held the urge to smile, as he resumed speaking.

“What was that you used to call me back at Odate?” The sorcerer asked, filled with satisfaction, ready to deal the killing blow with no mercy at all.

"Oh, come on, Nanami! Please don't." 

Your pleads fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, I think I remember” Nanami said, vindication from ten years of teasing stewing under the monotone of his voice. 

“Don’t you dare, Nanami...” you warned, vermilion face pulsing with embarrassment.

“You used to call me ‘stalker’" he stated, highlighting the last word, before he proceeded. "So, how does it feel to actually be one?”

“Nanami, come on, I'm not a stalker! Ugh” you sighed, covering your face in shame.

This time, he couldn't hold the amusement grin.

You grunted before proceeding. “Guess I’ve earned this one, but come on, that was ten years ago! How did you hold on to that grudge for so long?”

Except it wasn’t a grudge. Well, maybe just a little bit.

I need a new phone.

--

End notes:

This one was so fun to write. About the "stalker" thing, it's referring to my mid-long fic, Sand and Snow (you can check it out here), given that reader is based off of my OC from S&S :) Hope you had fun! xoxo

[nanowrimo]

Journaling Practices to Help With Writing Funks

Feeling stuck in your writing? Journaling might be your answer to getting unstuck! NaNo Participant Ashley has some tips on using journaling as a guide to get you writing again. We all know writing is no easy feat, and it can be especially difficult when we find ourselves in a funk. Sometimes it’s best to take a break, reset, and turn our energy elsewhere and inward to help us get re-focused on the goal ahead. So, whether you’re struggling to start a new work or find yourself stumped on writing that next chapter, try these tips to help you get over the hump.

1. Brain dump

A brain dump is exactly what it sounds like. Grab a journal and write down everything on your mind. It can be specific to what you’re currently working on, or just anything that’s taking up space in your head. Set a timer for 5 minutes and let the thoughts flow. If you find this difficult to do, maybe start with one of these prompts:

What are five things I accomplished today?

How can I prioritize myself and my everyday tasks better?

Are there any goals I’d like to accomplish this week/month/year?

Pro tip: Using the voice note app on your phone works just as well! Go for a walk or hop in your car for a drive and talk all your thoughts out until there’s nothing left to say.

2. Use a guided journal

I’m a big fan of guided journals when I can’t seem to find the inspiration to write. Something about a journal prompt and the space to write freely about a variety of topics really helps me to get out of my head. There are a ton of guided journals out there, but these are a few of my favorites:

Cleo Wade’s Heart Talk

Rupi Kaur’s Healing Through Words

Michelle Obama’s Becoming

3. Keep a gratitude log

One of the best ways to get grounded and re-centered is by simply paying attention and being present to the world around us. Start your day or end your night making a list of 5-10 things you're grateful for. You can even take it a step further by choosing 1 or 2 things from your list and going into more detail about why you’re grateful for it. Give yourself a few minutes every day for this practice, and by the end of the week you’ll have a long list to look back on and come back to when you’re feeling stuck.

4. Get into nature

A change of scenery is another great way to switch up your writing routine. Find a new or familiar park, take a walk, and observe the nature around you. Take notes in your phone or in your journal of everything that comes to mind using your five senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch). Get creative with what you jot down and write a poem from your observations, or perhaps a short story.

Ashley is a content marketer by day and aspiring nonfiction writer by night. She’s built a career of brand storytelling and now hopes to share stories from her own life on healing and self-care as she begins working on her first book. Follow her journey on Substack or Medium. Photo by Charlotte May from Pexels

[maaxverstappen]

I’ve been asking ppl cus im nosy. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length if u so wish — wiz

i love this question!! and would love to know other answers so if you want to reblog them i shall be on the lookout 👀.

i answered partly here so will just like build on that!!

the process is that i’ll have an idea and depending on how large it is write out some sort of outline. my preference for all planning in life is on paper so i have a little journal that ill write out some ideas in. kind of brainstorm / mind map style of just jotting down random ideas that come to mind.

however, with longer fics like my current post-as-i-go wip i have to do it digital bc so much changes and it’s too long (see pics in previous ask). that one i actually started planning in my notes app on a plane bc the idea had to come out of me someway and i was really excited about it. i then transferred it to a google doc and added onto my chapter per chapter outline (1st pic in previous ask). i felt like that was a bit overwhelming for understanding the overall plot so then i went and made a simple overview of the key plot points per chapter (the 2nd pic in previous ask) just so i felt like i had a better understanding of the goal per chapter.

now when i sit down to write a chapter ill get both the detailed notes and the main plot points and just write whatever i feel like in order to get to the goal of the chapter.

for shorter one shot fics i’ll either have no full outline or a one page idea list kind of thing. for instance, for worth the trouble i knew that it would start and end in the present time and then everything in between would be a flashback, but i didn’t know the flashbacks would be non chronological until i was writing it. same for the chewing gum aspect that ends up being quite an important part of the symbolism and that almost weaves the parts together, that wasn’t a *thing* until i was almost finished with the rough draft and i then went to add it in to previous scenes.

for my long fic i have to be a bit more calculated with the hidden messages/foreshadowing as i can’t go back and edit published chapters lmao so that is a little more thought out + i keep track of loose ends to tie together at some point.

editing is a bit of a harder one. for my long fic my overal editing is per chapter, but i do tend to go back and edit per section too. like right now I’m writing a texting scene and first i wrote the plain texting dialogue, then i went back to add the bits in between from characters’ pov. then i’ll read over it fully and edit where needed. finally when the whole chapter is done ill read over it and edit again, but at that point it’s mainly grammar and punctuation.

my main writing issues i’ve noticed so far is that i tend to switch tenses without realising so that’s something i look out for when editing. i also am always worried they don’t *do* enough so i like to think “hmm what action can i add in here to make them more human” when editing.

so far only worth the trouble has been beta read, the rest i do myself. if I’m stuck i will talk through a lot of it with my partner who will give me some ideas and just like help lmao (she’s also the one that beta read wtt!). but she’s not in the f1 fandom so it’s a little hard to have her beta read for characterisation and specific plot points so i do that myself. like when she beta read wtt she gave a few points of feedback that weren’t too relevant bc the average f1 fic reader would understand (like the significance of spa21, there is no need to explain it).

I’m a baby fic writer so a lot of my process will be redefined and refined as i go I’m sure.

as for deciding what to write, it’s really whatever captures my attention. the prompt for help me hold onto you is one i really liked and a trope i love reading myself. i was also ready to challenge myself to a longer plot fic and i was really excited about the idea so i just went for it! my main consideration is really just how excited i am for it.

i will say that i am currently really struggling with perfectionism / imposter syndrome. I’m having a hard time getting the words onto paper bc it feels like it’ll never be as good as my favourite authors anyway so what’s the point. (which is now also impacting the way i read fics bc it makes me sad that ill never write anything as good as what I’m reading lol)

i generally write on my laptop! in a google doc with grammarly activated and the word count on screen (which pisses me off bc i have to turn it back on after every refresh). i wrote my latest crafty!oscar on my phone (bc i was too excited to wait till i got to my laptop) but wouldn’t ever do that for anything much longer or plot-ier than that.

i fear this has gotten very long. i know u said yap away but …. i perhaps have yapped too close to the sun.

[languages-with-ian]

What’s your opinion on the Duolingo Gaelic course? I tried starting it after starting Irish and found the Gaelic 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 lessons to be considerably less…polished? in my experience

Excellent question!

Personally, I think it’s a great way to reintroduce a new, younger generation to the language. It covers a lot of cultural topics that many people may never have heard of, like the concept of a Mòd gathering. Additionally, I don't think I had ever heard of IRN BRU, but it’s now on my bucket list to try. (Their adverts alone are, um, quite attention-grabbing.)

According to an article in The Scotsman, as of this March (March 2022, that is - greetings, future readers!), the course has surpassed a million learners, an astounding leap for a language that just decades ago was teetering on the edge of extinction.

And back to the first point, an article in The Guardian made an excellent point about this course helping to dispel the "Scottish cringe", a manifestation of a wider (practically global, though there are exceptions) phenomenon of perceived inferiority of a given indigenous culture in favor of an external, more politically or socially dominant culture or language.

THAT BEING SAID, however, I do have some critiques of my own, and you put forward a good point. From what I understand, the course mainly teaches the Mid-Minch dialect of Scottish Gaelic (shoutout to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig!), with some regional variation in pronunciation between the people providing audio recordings (although they do expose the learner to Canadian Gaelic with a few lessons, which gets a big "thumbs up" from me). With the massive volume of learners coming to the app (an overall very positive thing!) to learn the language, I'm predicting the language will undergo a "dialect levelling" over the next few decades as a result of the popularity of this course. My guess is that the good majority of people learning Gaelic online will start and finish their language learning journey with the Duolingo course and not seek out other resources (or even fellow speakers or learners) to supplement this, which may move Gaelic towards one standard "Duolingo dialect" in the near future if care is not taken to avoid such a fate.

Another thing I've noticed is that as I near the end of the course (I'm on Unit 66 of 69 at the moment), there hasn't been a single prompt for the past fifteen or so units that I haven't already seen. Don't get me wrong, review is always good, but I do wish they would provide more variation in their prompts in the later stages of the course so I could be sure that I'm absorbing more essential vocabulary and grammar and not just drilling myself on Duolingo sentences. I also wish it would cover some more important points of grammar and vocab earlier in the course (concepts in colloquial sentence structure such as how and when to use phrases like "air a bhith", "gum bi", "biodh", etc.). My advice once you've reached about Unit 45 or so is to begin seeking out other learners (or native speakers if you can find them) and begin practicing using the language in a more colloquial fashion.

One note I have about the platform in general: a somewhat common thread among Duolingo learners of any language is that the sentences sound unnatural at times, or that they'll "never use these sentences in real life." While that may be the case in a literal sense, that's not the whole point of the structure of the courses. I think people see sentences like "the bear gave me a strawberry" and think they're not learning anything worthwhile, but what sentences like this teach you is vocabulary in different syntactical situations. This is one of the best ways to learn grammar - that is, to not even realize you're learning it, and to passively absorb it based off of various usage examples. After all, this is how we learn grammar rules as young children! And a side-note, make sure you do the lessons with the sound on, and for your own sake, make sure you're saying each sentence out loud as you go! (Your future conversation partners will thank you for it.)

I also forgot to mention a great resource in my main post - the show Speaking Our Language is available on YouTube for free (at least in the United States), and covers Gaelic as it may be used situationally. It can be a bit goofy at times, and it's a nostalgic snapshot of early- to mid-1990s Scotland, but it's presented in a very digestible and well-paced fashion for learners!

Follow for more linguistics and share this post! If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

[metamorphosisff]

|Interlude| II. FaceTime

[Author’s note: Interludes are not in chronological order as they are scenes that were deleted from chapters.]

Call Ms. Lena

The alert popped across the top of my phone screen in the midst of me watching a Tik Tok that explained Avengers: End Game that Xavier sent. Sighing, I finished the video but not nearly as into it as before. My thoughts were transformed by having to fulfill my one true duty as a sibling. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Ms. Lena, she counted as one of the people I loved but it was a love I could only maintain from afar. When I got too close, the love we shared hurt from the past that still tethered us together. Even at my big age I felt like a burden to her and Lonso. Something on a to-do list much like keeping in contact with them was for me but what choice did I have? They were the only remnants of my family that I had left. Closing out of the app, I found her name in my contacts, and pressed the Factime icon. 

As prompt as ever, she answered on the second ring. Her mahogany smile filled the screen inciting my own. Ms. Lena was the epitome of ‘Black Don’t Crack’, with regal cheek bones, a small pointed nose, arched brows and full lips, she commanded attention. It was easy to see why she and my father had fallen for each other, no matter how messy it was for them to do so while he had been engaged to my mother. I didn’t hold my father’s transgressions against her though. 

“My other baby decided to finally give me a call,” she beamed, excitedly. 

“I’m sorry, my current schedule leaves a lot to be desired,” I chuckled, even though we both knew I was only good for a call per quarter, warehouse job or not. “But I had to call because it’s your birthday and I wanted to wish you happiness to your face.”

I truly meant that. There was a time in my teens when I resented Lena for grabbing Lonso and leaving me to deal with the aftermath of my parents but as I grew older I understood there wasn’t much for her to do. Legally anyway, my grandmother had more rights over my custody and Lena didn’t want to stay behind to fight for me with a new life waiting for her in Virginia. I would have left too. She made the right choice for her family. I just wished I could have been a part of it.

Her face lit up as she pressed her free hand to her chest, “Thanks MiMi, that means a lot to me.”

I almost physically cringe at the nickname my parents used to call me but restrain myself in time. The muscles in my cheeks work overtime to retain my smile. “Any plans for today? I know the party is this weekend but I hope you’re taking some time for yourself.”

“I took the whole week off. Wasn’t about to let them folks at the office stress me out during my celebration time,” she cracked, as she propped the phone against something, allowing me to see the rich burnt Sienna sundress she wore. “Speaking of my party, we were hoping to see you. I know Lonso is a little disappointed.”

My eyes rolled then, leave it to him to complain about my absence when my presence was barely wanted by him.

“Now I know you two have been more like oil and water lately but he does miss you. That I’ve heard him say verbatim,” she added.

“Then maybe he should lead with that instead of being a judgmental prick,” I said.

“He does come on...strong, get’s that from me and the tactless part from y’alls daddy,” she said, causing me to snort.

Our father used to always say the first thing that came to his mind whether it was proper or not. His candid nature is what gave me my non-bullshit attitude. I hated when people beat around the bush. I preferred honesty. However, I had no tolerance for brutal honesty. There was always a way to be straightforward without making someone want to punch you in the face.

“That he does,” I agreed. “I will be there for Thanksgiving promise. The whole week according to the flight information he sent. Right now I’m working on a few things and can’t get away. I’m sorry it can’t be sooner.”

The work I was putting in on myself took precedent over everything and well...almost everyone. I was in the middle of a shift that couldn’t be threatened by examining things I was not ready to face. Lonso thought all my problems could be fixed with a military career and change of address. Truth was, my biggest problem stared at me in the mirror every morning. My reflection had to be something I could stomach before I could start proving my worth to anyone else.

Nodding her head in understanding, “I understand baby, I do, I just miss you that’s all. Looking forward to being able to hug on you and really see how your doing with my own eyes.”

I chuckled nervously as I said, “You’re looking at me right now.”

“No, I’m looking at your defense mechanism. Something I know can be lowered with a scoop of my peach cobbler,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

At that we both laughed knowing how I used to bug her every holiday season for her signature dessert. I know Lena means well, that her love could probably pave the cracks in my heart if I let it but I needed to be the one to heal me. That way if it broke again I would know how to fix it.

“I miss you too.”

[intercoursefluids]

Tim/Adrien established relationship; sexy times

Adrien feeling needy and needs some attention, so he goes to Tim whose been working on cases all day. Adrien plops down onto Tim lap, pulling Tim's head back by the hair and pressing a desperate kiss onto his lips.

Everything else up to you.

daddy kink?

Sorry if this isn't exactly what you had in mind but it was all my brain could come up with, if anyone else wants to take a wack at this prompt feel free to do so

NOTE:

As this was a commission It will not be continued beyond this unless someone specifically asks for it

If y'all want me to write something specific let me know and if y'all want to pay for it (You absolutely don't have to just think of it as a tip jar if you want to its there if not then don't) my cash app is $GarlicGalix

Let me know what yall thought

Adrien huffed, throwing his arm over his face as he laid spread out across the bed.

Tim had promised he would come to bed soon. That was over an hour ago…

With a groan Adrien rolled over, tangling himself in the blanket as he tried to make it to the edge of the bed.

Freeing himself from the beds confines, Adrien stands, adjusting his pajama pants as he leaves the room.

If he knew Tim as well as he thought he did, he should still be in the guest room they turned into an office when they bought the place.

Slinking around the corner he is proved right, Tim is still slouched over his computer screen, oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Tim?”

“Hmn?”

He didn’t even turn to look at Adren in the doorway.

“Tim.”

“Hrn?”

With a huff Adrien stalked forward, grabbing Tim’s shoulder and gently shaking him.

“Babe. Baby. Light of my life. Timothy. Tim. Look at me.”

Tim kept typing, Adrien would have thought he hadn’t even noticed his presence if not for the slight smile playing at his lips.

Grumbling to himself Adrien lifts one of Tim’s arms, sliding into his lap and blocking his view of the screen.

“Daddy.”

“Alright, you have my attention.”

Tim’s hands come up to rest on Adrien’s lower back, smile now in plain sight as he leans up to kiss him.

“Good, it’s late. Get off your laptop and come to bed already.”

Tim smirks up at him, grip shifting to his hip and squeezing slightly.

“Well, aren’t you feeling needy.”

Tim leaned forward, skimming his nose up the column of Adrien’s neck and stopping at his ear.

“Want me to fix that for you?” 

He whispers, gently grinding Adrien don onto him.

Adrien’s face goes completely flat, doing his best to act like he isn’t being affected as he pulls Tim’s face away from his neck.

“Not tonight, I have a photoshoot with Mari tomorrow and if I show up covered in hickies she will kill us both.”

Tim groans, peering over Adrien’s shoulder to save his work before getting up, wrapping Adrien’s legs around his waist.

“Fine, you win. Let me change and I’ll join you in bed.”

Adrien smiles, kissing Tim one more time before dropping down onto his own feet.

He watches Tim go into the bathroom from his place on the bed with a satisfied smile.

As stubborn as his boyfriend was, he was nothing compared to Marinette.

All of his practice in getting his way was coming in handy.

Tag list:

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

[gogolucky13]

Mile High Club

Summary: You meet Bucky on a plane ride and things escalate quickly. (Modern AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Word count: 2,278

Warnings: Smut (fingering, vaginal penetration). Mild swearing and mention of alcohol consumption. (18+ only please).

A/N: This is my entry for @sunflowerxbarnes​ 1.5k Meme Writing Challenge. Congrats on the follower milestone, love! My prompt was “Well, that escalated quickly” which is in bold. I’m toying with some ideas for a second part so we’ll see! Also, my tags aren’t working but I said I'd post today so here it is anyways! Hope people like! Enjoy! 😊💜

A groan, frustrated and fed-up, rumbles deep in your throat. The yellow flashing ‘Delayed’ taunting as you stare dumbly at it.

Of course.

Add it to the list of things that have gone wrong thus far since you started your day. 

The alarm you set for this morning didn’t go off because your phone died during the night. Apparently the charger wasn’t plugged in. Then, the first Uber you ordered left without warning as you frantically searched your apartment for your wallet. When you finally arrived at the airport, the lovely woman working at the check in desk reluctantly informed your carry-on bag exceeded the weight limitations and needed to be checked. 

And now, the flight you need to catch for your sister’s wedding is delayed almost two hours. Just wonderful. It was bad enough you were forced to take a red-eye when your boss ‘accidentally’ forgot to put your time-off request in.

Urgently, you thumb out a text to your sister informing you’ll be arriving later than scheduled. You know it’s the last thing she wants to deal with, but it’s out of your control. Clouds and foggy weather in Seattle are to blame, and truthfully, you could say it’s her fault for living somewhere that experiences such dingy weather most days. But you wouldn’t do that.

Instead, you sigh in defeat and find somewhere to sit and pass the time.

Several coffees and a handful of swipe lefts on your dating app later, your plane is finally beginning to board. Grabbing your bag, you get in the queue for your section, and you try to optimistically tell yourself things are only going to get better. That is, until you see some man sitting in your seat.

“Ahem,” a gentle throat clear to gain his attention that is currently focused on finding something in his backpack. “Excuse me,” you try again when he doesn’t respond to your first attempt.

But then he’s snapping his head up to look at you, and you suddenly forget what your issue with him was.

“Sorry?” He genuinely asks, bright blue eyes staring at you in expected anticipation.

“Uh, I...um, you’re in my seat,” you finally manage to get out, an awkward laugh tacked on the end when you gesture to the seat number on your ticket.

His brow furrows, confusion warping into surprise. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaims, quickly hopping up from the seat he occupies to shuffle out into the aisle. 

You quickly take note of his height, and…well-built stature. There is no denying this man is attractive, and you don’t miss the quick once over of appraisal he does of you, too.

“It’s been a hectic day,” he sheepishly admits.

“I hear that,” you chuckle, slipping your bag off your shoulder and moving to take your seat.

The man follows, sitting right beside you, and you think this nearly seven hour flight might end up being alright. Silence takes over as the two of you settle into your seats, and you pull out your phone to let your sister know you’ve boarded. Then your seat mate is gaining your attention again as he speaks up.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” 

He holds out a hand for you to shake, and you offer him your name in return.

“Figured we’ve got a long flight ahead of us,” he smiles, and there’s a swoop deep in your belly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“What’s in Seattle? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, uh, my sister is getting married this weekend.”

“That’s cool. I’m actually heading out there for a wedding, too.”

“What a coincidence,” you comment, and he nods in agreement.

The overhead speaker cuts through the soft murmurs and the faint sound of a baby crying somewhere in the back of the plane. Flight attendants run through the emergency evacuation plans and then the pilot is announcing for passengers to buckle their seatbelts for takeoff. 

Thirty minutes goes by in a flash, you and Bucky exchanging small stories, including the woes of each of your mornings. By the time the flight attendant comes around offering food and beverages, a mischievous look has taken over Bucky’s features.

“Drinks?”

There’s a twinkle in his eye, and a quiet promise of a good time hidden in the corner of his smile.

“Definitely.”

Gin and tonic. Rum and coke. Minutes roll into hours, time passing by in an intoxicating and dimly lit blur as you continue sharing bits and pieces of your lives. A mention of a time from college, a brief discussion about his sister and then yours, talks of what shows you’ve watched on Netflix. The liquor spurring on the undeniable attraction between you. A quick touch here, a flirty line there, bashful smirks pressed into thin lines to hold back face-splitting smiles. Inhibitions lowering as sip after sip passes through your lips.

“I’ll tell you what, Doll,” Bucky begins, placing his fresh drink onto the tray before him, “I was not looking forward to this flight, but you’ve certainly made it better.”

Doll.

The pet name hasn’t gone unnoticed by you the entire time. It first happened when he excused himself to use the restroom. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, Doll.”

Then again when he asked if you wanted another round.

“Another drink, Doll?”

You aren’t sure what’s more intoxicating—the drinks or the spark in Bucky’s eye when he calls you that.

“Well, my original plan was to sleep for most of this flight,” you reply, taking a sip of your cocktail, “but I’m enjoying myself.” 

Smirking coyly at him, you watch as Bucky glances to your mouth, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. A pregnant pause fills the space, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of everything that’s been said and done between you. Temptation swirls in his steely blue eyes, pupils dilating and eyelids drooping. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

The confession initially catches you off-guard, a gasp catching in your throat. But then you quickly recover, the same thought swimming around the bottom of your glass for the past hour.

“Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes,” you say, setting your drink down and scooting by him.

The burn of his stare is felt as you scurry down the aisle, trying your best to be as inconspicuous as possible. The cabin is dark for the most part, except for the few passengers using their overhead lights to read or occupy themselves with something else. Quickly, you open and shut the bathroom door, sure to lock it to deter anyone unwanted coming in.

Giving yourself a quick once over in the mirror, you groan when you see some mascara has crusted in the corner of your eye. Then you take a moment to primp your hair, not that it really matters. 

Adrenaline rushes through you at the sound of three faint knocks against the door. Without hesitation, you unlock and open it, revealing a very riled up Bucky. He pushes through the threshold, instantly shutting and locking you both inside the tiny bathroom. Chest heaving against yours, there isn’t another wasted moment as he grips the back of your head to pull you in for a searing kiss.

Your hands around his neck, in his hair. Large arms around your waist, hoisting you up and pressing you against the wall. A moan that’s quickly swallowed up when you wrap your legs around him, the growing bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your thinly covered core, damp and throbbing.

Sweet soda and bitter rum send your senses into overdrive when his tongue interlaces with yours. The desire and need for more intensifying, heating the ever so small space.

“Please,” you breathe out when Bucky trails his lips along your jaw, down your neck. A few nips and sucks eliciting goosebumps across your skin.

Pressing harder against you, a hand snakes up and under your shirt, palming at your breast. The wanting fever takes over, clothes tugged and pulled at, revealing just what is needed most. The ache in your core is almost painful, but it’s quickly subdued when two fingers brush against it. A pleased sigh when Bucky runs them along your wet folds before pushing one, then two fingers inside.

“Oh my god,” you cry, the hold on his shoulders tightening.

“Shh,” Bucky quiets, pressing his lips against yours. “Don’t wanna get caught, do we? I won’t make it in jail.” He chuckles, his mouth curling into a smile which quickly fades as he watches your face contort in pleasure. His nose runs along your jaw, then his forehead rests against yours as he coaxes an orgasm from you. “C’mon, that’s it, Doll.”

Hot breaths fan over open mouths, labored pants strain your lung capacity, and then you feel it. Velvet walls flutter then clamp around his fingers when you reach your peak, a mewl falling from your lips. Bucky kisses you again, hard and desperate, when he retracts his fingers. You’re left feeling empty for a moment, but then the tip of Bucky’s member is nudging at your entrance.

“Are you sure?” He asks breathlessly, blue eyes searching yours for confirmation.

“Yes,” you breathe, gulping for air, “Yes, I’m sure.”

His lips are on yours once more, but you’re unable to kiss him back when he pushes inside you, mouth falling open into a silent ‘o’ as you adjust to his size. Bucky is big, there is no question about that. It’s a burning sensation at first, core clenching at the pain, but he takes it slow.

“Jesus,” Bucky sighs against your neck. Both hands grip your backside as he steadily moves in and out, giving you both the chance to adjust.

Then you’re relaxing, squeezing your legs around his waist, and Bucky takes that as his cue to pick up the pace. Fast and relentless, he pounds into you as he begins the chase for his own release. The coil in your belly is retightening, the threat of another overwhelming orgasm just out of reach. Skin tingling, sweat building, you’re nearly there.

“Don’t stop,” you pant, one hand gripping his neck, the other on his bicep, both holding on for dear life.

A deep groan vibrates against your chest, a sloppy kiss to your neck, Bucky’s thrusts begin to stutter and you know he’s close.

“Please, I’m almost…” But the rest of your plea dies as you cry out in a hushed moan, arms and legs tightly wrapping around Bucky’s large frame.

He continues to move inside you, sending waves of aftershocks through your body. But then he’s pushing into you one last time, bringing you down onto him and stopping once he reaches the hilt, his hot spend coating your walls. A final few twitches of his member, still buried deep in you, makes you shudder.

Bucky leans back, and places a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Fuck, that was incredible,” he chuckles, kissing your lips again, then your cheek. 

“Well, that escalated quickly,” you softly laugh, earning another chuckle from Bucky as he nuzzles into your neck.

He holds you for a moment longer, allowing your bodies and minds to come down from their dizzying highs. And then he’s slowly pulling out, earning a hiss from each of you. Tucking his softening member back into his sweatpants, Bucky leaves you with another kiss to the cheek and a I’ll see you back there before he lets you clean up.

Subconsciously, you smooth out your clothes and fix your hair as you walk down the aisle to your seat. No one looks up or gives any notion they’ve heard what you’ve just done, but the secret I know something you don’t know has you imagining all eyes are on you. 

Bucky hands you a water as you sit back down and you quietly thank him for it. As you open the bottle and take a sip, he breaks the silence that’s between you.

“What just happened wasn’t my intention when I said I wanted to kiss you,” he states, a sincerity in his voice and an honesty in his eyes. “I really did just mean I wanted to kiss you, but when you looked at me like that…and then, the bathroom, fuck,” he chuckles, glancing to his hands, “you’re just really fucking gorgeous, and…I’ve really enjoyed talking with you.”

He’s looking back to you, and if it wasn’t so dark in the cabin, you’d swear there was a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and not solely a lingering side effect of what just transpired.

A smile stretches along your face at his endearing confession. Truthfully, you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting to happen when your liquor laced tongue invited him to join you in the bathroom, but you can’t say you regret it.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, too,” you finally respond, and there’s an audible sigh of relief from Bucky in response.

“C’mere,” he says, raising the armrest that separates your seats. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulls you into his body before placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

After a several quiet moments, Bucky suggests watching a movie on his iPad, and you agree, but neither of you make it through the first half of the film by the time sleep is calling for you. However, despite your fatigue and post-sex haze, you made sure to ask Bucky for his number, which he happily provided. 

After he hands your phone back, a smirk creeps across your lips.

“I’m putting you in as Mile High Club.”

[shirophantomvox]

“Longing for Attention” Illumi x Reader

Hello anon! Thank you for this awesome request! This story consists of a little angst and fluff towards the end. I can truly say that this story is the closest to Illumi’s canon characteristics. If you all did not know, I am celebrating my 100 follower goal! If you’d like to participate in this event, click this link. Please note that requests for this event will close on July 15th at 12 AM EST. The post will have all of the rules and prompts!

👁 👁 👁 👁

“I swear I’ll haunt you in your sleep, Zoldyck! ‘Ya hear me, boy?!”

A body thudded as this man’s speech was cut short. A tired Illumi Zoldyck came calmly walking towards his target with the straightest face ever. Even at the sight of blood, darker than any he had seen, his lips remained neutral and his eyes remained half-lidded as they were. The sound of the mini heel on his green loafers echoed as he continued to approach the deceased man before him. The ballroom was completely empty, leaving Illumi all by himself for who knows why and what else could happen.

Being a bounty hunter was challenging in itself but being a bounty hunter and dating an assassin is a totally different story. Criminals began to spread the word of your alliance with the Zoldycks and formed many gangs to retaliate against you both. Both of you have been shot at, stabbed a few times, and even been robbed! After being robbed at gunpoint and dealing with trauma, it nearly made you quit your job because of the stress and life endangering events faced almost everyday but for Illumi, it didn’t phase him at all. Not in the slightest. After being robbed of his engagement ring, he simply went to another jewelry store and bought another. He did not cry, quiver, or shutter.

After Illumi phoned his father and gave him a brief overview of his success, he proceeded to the exit. The light flickered, giving the impression that an eerie figure stood at the end of the hallway. Electricity hummed the closer someone approached it, sounding like a fly trying to find its way back outside. An atmosphere like this one did not bother Illumi in the slightest but he did not like being there no longer tha needed.

“Y/n! Y/n! I know you can hear me!”

“Now is not the time to play around. We need to vacate the premises immediately,” He thought to himself. He began to bang on doors, opened them up, and yelled your name to the heavens trying to find you.

“Oh! I know,” he said out loud, snapping his fingers.

He opened a tracking app on his iPhone that displayed all of his contacts that had recently shared their location with him. Once he began the search, it revealed that you were 400 kilometers away. Tracking your phone was something he did every time he could not find you. At times it was adorable and sometimes it was weird and intrusive. Illumi’s intrusive behavior stems from his mother, Kikyo and no matter how you put it, it is very unhealthy. Caring can easily turn into an obsession that can make you do unsound things.

“Illumi! I am in the bathroom. Can you give me a second,” you ask, slightly irritated, washing your hands quickly. You did not want to keep him waiting any longer. It was always a mystery if it was his anger or anxiety that prompted him to bust the door down just to make sure you were safe. Poor Illumi Zoldyck. His expression of love and how he cared for others was rather odd and unusual. It is safe to say that you were the best thing that has happened to him.

As you open the door, he stands with his long arms crossed in a huff, his long legs creating an upside down “V” shape gazing at you a slightly angry about your disappearance halfway through the mission.

“Where were you,” he asked, moving closer to you. “While I had to complete both of our jobs, you have been playing around in the bathroom.”

“Illumi, you’re—“

“Shhh—“ He placed his index finger over your mouth, bending down at eye level, and smiled devilishly. “—I’ll still pay you but you owe me a favor.”

“—But I wasn’t playing in the bathroom!”

As you were pleading your case, Illumi nonchalantly typed away on his phone. He quickly showed you his screen that listed your every step within the last few hours. It displayed where you were, the longitude and latitude, who you spoke with, and if you took any pictures. You had no idea that a smartphone could disclose so much personal information and since you have shared your location with him, he has access to it all.

“—Care to tell the truth?” Illumi raised his left eyebrow, using his somewhat intimidating tactic used when he was a child.

“Fine. Ugh! Why do you have to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“You’re…too overprotective. Give me some space sometime! Hell, you might be pleased to know where I was.”

“Pleased?! I nearly had a heart attack when I realized you were not by my side! Are you satisfied that my heart weakens everyday?”

“You’re so dramatic. You might want to take up acting, you know.”

“Ha, ha, so funny,” he said flatly.

As you roll your eyes in irritation, Illumi closes the leftover space between you two. Still bent over at eye level, he places his large hand on your cheek, blinks twice, while his straight face remains. His cold hearted personality seemed to always overshadow his body but all of his warmth seemed to be omitting from his palm.

“I care about you deeply. I cannot have you running away doing God knows what while we are on a dangerous mission like this one.”

“Illumi, I—“ He places his index finger over your mouth again, shushing you as he continues to, as they say, pour his heart out for once.

“I understand that you are a bounty hunter, but if I’m being honest it is a much different line of work than being an assassin. It is my job to care for you while I complete some of the harshest tasks on Earth.”

“I’m not a child, Illumi. Do you want to know what I was doing? Those longitude and latitude readings are very wrong, by the way.”

“Huh? Ok…where were you then?”

Still, your face was placed in his palm, his large eyes staring in yours somehow made you feel lost. Your delayed answer made his palm involuntarily tighten.

“I bought you this pocket sized white teddy bear…?” This statement was propositioned as a question rather than a statement because you were afraid of how he’d react. He was already startled and giving him a plushie would only make it worse. Instead of reacting calmly he would assume that giving him a plushie would imply that he was weak.

“…Valentine’s Day is a few days and I know you’ll be in Las Vegas handling business so I decided to buy you something that will remind you of me while you’re away.”

The small plushie was a white teddy bear holding a heart. It’s eyes were as big as Illumi’s. Before you could hold it up to him, he grabbed it rather gently, stood up straight, and held it in front of his eyes for examination. He turned it around a few times as if it was on a rotator. He placed his index finger inside of the keychain loop and finally smiled. He placed this small object against his heart just before he bent down to meet your eyes once again.

“I always think of you. Come to think of it, that must be why my shots have been off.”

His face scrunches in a humorous way. As usual, his smile fades away and returns to his neutral look. Illumi’s silence signaled that his mind was running a million miles a minute. So many questions and feelings begged to be released but something was preventing him from doing so. You could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to suffocate you with a bear hug but he wouldn’t do it. He has been trained to think that assassins do not need friends, cannot express their feelings, and can only do what is needed to get the job done. It’s ironic; the Zoldyck children are not allowed to have friends but they are allowed to have lovers only so they can reproduce and keep their legacy alive. Love has no part in their marriages; they are only contracts, literally. As in love as Kikyo and Silva were (and still are), it would seem like they’d emphasize the importance of love to their children. As a result, they all have adopted an odd way of showing affection for others.

In this instant, Illumi’s face appeared to be more endearing than before. His face had darkened significantly, his cheeks were fatter like they were stuffed slightly, and his eyes twinkled. You smiled as you have truly found the key to his heart. All this young man wanted and truly desired was to be loved not for his abilities or job, but for him and only him. Your warm hands, now on his cheeks, felt overwhelmed with warmth. Just the sight of him at that moment was breathtaking. The flickering power, the unrest souls in the next room of his targets, and the eerie atmosphere seem to fade while you gazed into his eyes. Pressing his cheeks together, puckering his lips was indeed both an amusing and cute sight to behold.

“You are so adorable, Illumi. Did you know that? This “bad boy” behavior and clutching a teddy bear is too much to take in. I might just send a photo to your mother. She’ll screech and tell the entire world.”

“You wouldn’t dare do that ,” he said, words muffled; lips still puckered. He seemed to flush more and more every time you’d remind him of how vulnerable he is right now.

“Try me!”

“Mother would just embarrass me, you know that!”

“I know. Then I’d be able to see the sweet, soft assassin that I see now. All warm and cuddly. I’m sure you just want to sit in the back seat of your Dodge and just fall fast asleep, am I right?”

“I plead the 5th,” he said flatly.

“I was right! Ha, ha!”

“Would you pipe down already?”

Illumi’s right hand was placed directly behind his torso carelessly pressed against his lower back. He appeared to be in pain but made no mistake. If asked about it, he’d lie just to debunk any statements about him being weak.

“What is in your hand? Let me see it.” Your demanding tone turned into one that a mother has, specifically Kikyo.

“It’s nothing,” he said, slightly wincing in pain.

“Let me see it now, Illumi or I swear I’ll—-“

“Fine! Fine! Just don’t make a big deal about it, alright?”

A promise is a promise; that is what you said to Illumi as you agreed to not over react once you saw his hand. A healed bruise nearly scarred the entire base part of his hand. A light red dotted cut looked as if someone took a exacto knife and grazed it. You gazed back into his eyes. He looked hurt; longing for attention for a cut that had already healed. As childish as it may seem, just the slightest bit of attention is something he craved, even if something like this had been healed a long time ago. Him wincing was something he conjured up to grasp your attention. He raised his hand in front of your mouth, leaving it bent for you to grab.

“Do you want me to kiss it and make it feel better?”

“Please,” he replies, smiling slightly again.

The touch of your soft, moist lips made his smile grow larger, his cheeks flushing yet again. A few overlapped lipstick stains remained on his hand, something he might get tattooed so everyone knew who he belonged to.

“Why can’t you be this way every time we finish missions? We could have sooo much fun.”

“If I have too much fun, I’d abandon my remaining missions and father would not like that at all. He might even put out a contract on me.”

You sigh somberly. Illumi had his moments of anger, roughness, and kept his distance but moments like this, where he wasn’t afraid to allow his softer side resurface made you feel content as if you completed a mission of your own. Gazing into his eyes one more time, they sparkled greatly.

“At least I can enjoy this while it lasts.”

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[aster-aspera]

It’s just my skin

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: loss of hearing

Pairings: (platonic) jonmartim

Warnings: claustrophobia, hospitals, hearing loss

Masterlist

If you liked it please reblog <3

The aftermath isn’t as quiet as Tim thought it would be.

Maybe it’s the fact that he isn’t dead even though he should be, maybe it’s the dreadful ringing in his ear, maybe it’s the way his chest is heaving in gasping breaths he can’t hear.

There’s a thousand pounds of stone pressing down on his back and somewhere far above him he can feel the ground rumble and shift. He can’t even find it in himself to worry about the whole place coming down. He wasn't planning on making it out alive either way.

He thinks he floats in and out of consciousness for a bit. Time seems to wind and stretch and loop back, only the rubble on his back and the incessant ringing to keep him company.

Something shifts eventually, a change in the air at first, the darkness becoming just a bit softer, a bit less cloying.

And then there are hands and stretchers and needles and people pulling and prodding him and over it all is still that high pitched ringing, rising higher and higher into an impossible crescendo. He thinks they ask him things, he is sure he sees their lips moving and their expectant gazes. He thinks he tries to say something, but his lips feel awkward and unwieldy.

Everything goes dark after that. A cool blessed darkness where he just floats, no stone, no rubble, no dust, just peace.

He thinks about Danny for a while, and the ritual and the burning collapse of it all and the way Sasha smiled at him every morning when he came into the archives. Then he just sleeps.

He wakes up a bit more coherent the next time. The ringing isn’t gone yet, but at least his brain doesn’t feel like it’s through different planes of dimensions at a hundred kilometres per hour anymore. At least now he can breathe without the dust clogging his lungs.

He looks around the overbright hospital room, the disconnected monitor and the IV dripping a clear fluid into his veins. There’s a bouquet of orange flowers on the bedside table. Probably from Martin, he thinks bitterly. There’s no one else who would go through the trouble.

Martin walks into his room at some point and Tim wonders why he’s here and not hovering around Jon like some lost puppy. Maybe Jon didn’t make it out of the explosion.

Something sharp and painful shoots through Tim’s chest at the thought and he does his best not to examine it too closely.

He looks up at Martin, whose lips are moving as he fusses with the flowers on the little table. Tim stares up at him uncomprehendingly, waiting for sound to come through, waiting for that unbearable ringing to resolve itself into something he can understand.

It doesn’t.

“I can’t hear,” He says, his lips forming the words, his vocal cords vibrating, but no sound comes out, not to him at least. Martin looks up at him with concern, his mouth moving in shapes that should have been familiar, had they been accompanied by the right noises.

“I can’t hear,” Tim says again. And this time, it doesn’t come out half as controlled. He can feel something very close to panic crawling it’s way up his throat and he doesn’t quite manage to swallow it down.

Martin presumably says something else, before giving up and typing something on his phone, shoving it into Tim’s hands before stalking out of the room.

Getting a doctor, stay here

Well of course he’s going to stay here, does Martin really think he’s going to wander around London when he’s just survived an explosion? He isn’t Jon.

He waits impatiently in his bed, rubbing the uncomfortably thin hospital sheets between his fingers and trying to adjust the flat pillows so he can sit up.

Eventually the doctors come in and once again, it’s back to being poked and prodded. Doctors examining his ears and brain and all the million scans they take, with Martin occasionally coming in to hover over him, bringing along coffee from the cafeteria.

In the end, the verdict is predictable. Permanent damage from his proximity to the explosion. Figures he couldn’t just walk out of that unscathed.

And most people would probably consider being permanently deaf better than being dead. Tim wasn’t too sure he agreed with them  yet.

They let him go home eventually, with a whole laundry list of instructions on how to care for himself. Tim throws the papers into a corner as soon as he gets home. He’ll be fine, he’s survived Jane Prentiss, he can survive this. And it isn’t like it matters much.

His phone buzzes to life when he sticks it into the socket, all the messages he missed streaming in at once, a tidal wave of promotional mails and push notifications. He’s half tempted to just shut it off again when he notices one text notification between all the others.

Jon

Martin had told him he was alive, of course. But something about seeing his name displayed black on white on his phone screen drives the point home in a way Martin’s scribbled notes hadn’t done. Something sharp and hot shoots through his chest and he wants desperately for it to be that familiar anger that carried him through the last few months.

But as he lets his head fall back onto the couch, he can’t quite feel it burn the same, and without its familiar warmth, he feels hollow in a way he hasn’t since Danny died.

He swipes away the message without reading it and curls up on the couch, pulling an old, dusty blanket over himself and shutting his eyes. He tries not to think too much of the darkness after the explosion, of the plaster dust swirling through the air and settling in his lungs, of the stone crushing his limbs at awkward angles.

A dark apartment isn’t much like a collapsed building but his brain doesn’t care when it brings up vivid images of his time under the rubble. Despite it all, he does eventually drift into the comforting darkness of sleep, his slumber taking the pain and weariness out of his bones for just a moment.

It’s peaceful, till he wakes up gasping from a nightmare.

His desk rattles slightly when a heavy book is dropped on it and Tim looks up in annoyance, ignoring the painful squeezing in his chest when he meets Jon’s tired, regretful eyes.

‘Learning sign’ The book proclaims and Tim feels irritation bubbling up.

“Fuck off,” He says, focusing his attention once again on his desk.

‘I know sign, I can help, or at least recommend you some classes/books’ Jon informs him through the notes app on his phone.

“I don’t need your help.”

‘I know you don’t, but I’d like to'

“Why? So you can feel better about everything that happened? You think this is going to fix it?”

‘I’m sorry Tim’

“Sorry is too late,” he bites out, shoving out of his chair roughly. He tries to move past Jon, make it out of this stifling, dusty room, get somewhere it doesn’t feel like the walls are watching him.

A rough, calloused hand shoots out, wraps around his wrist like a vice. Jon’s eyes are dark with concern and Tim feels an odd anger at the expression. How can he show so much empathy after everything that happened?

He looks at the hand wrapped around his wrist and suddenly, it’s all just too much.

The deafening ringing in his ears, this wretched place that trapped him and choked him and took his best friend from him. And Jon, eyes still hopeful, still compassionate, after Tim had blamed him and hurt him for months on end.

“Go away,” He tries to say and he doesn’t even make it to the first syllable before his voice betrays him with a choked sob. A shudder runs through him and he looks down at the wooden floor, trying to compose himself.

The grief has never felt as all consuming as it does in this moment and it chokes and burns and pulls him under all at once.

And then, there are arms around him. A familiar touch, a familiar weight, from days so long ago Tim can barely remember them. The first touch that isn’t hostile, the first comfort he has felt in so long.

And it’s all from the man he’s tried to hate for months.

His hands curl themselves tightly into Jon’s cardigan and he buries his face in his shoulder, biting back tears with all his might. It doesn’t do much good against the tidal wave of emotions sweeping through him and soon he’s shaking all over with the sobs that wrack through his body.

Jon’s hand comes up in a familiar movement, brushing through Tim’s messed up curls. It’s hesitant at first, as if Tim will yell at him again, but when he makes no motion to do so, only melting deeper into the hold, the fingers carding through his hair become surer.

There’s a rumble against his cheek as Jon says something and Tim wishes desperately he could still hear it, hear Jon’s sure and steadying voice.

He remembers when, near the beginning of it all, he would stand in the corridor outside of Jon’s office and listen as his voice drifted through the halls, all the pain and fear and emotions painted so clearly on it. He’d always thought Jon a bit ridiculous for the way he read those statements. Now he just wished he could hear it one more time.

He closes his eyes as the loss of his family and his friend and even his hearing tear through his chest, leaving him shattered and shaking.

Jon’s chest rumbles again and Tim presses his cheek into it, pretending for just a moment he can hear a sound that isn’t the awful ringing.

Another pair of hands close around him, softer ones, broader ones. They pull him up gently and he’s not entirely sure how they both ended up on the floor, it probably has something to do with how broad he is and how skinny Jon is.

He’s pulled close against a soft, broad chest and relaxes into it almost immediately. Martin’s safe, he always has been.

He’s deposited gently on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a warm mug of tea pressed into his hands. He feels a bit like a child, being coddled and carted around. But right now, he can’t find it in himself to care.

He thinks Jon and Martin are saying stuff. Martin’s chest is rumbling against his back and he tilts his face so he can feel it better. Martin runs a comforting hand along his face, brushing away the tears that stick to it.

A hand settles on his knee, comforting and grounding and he’s sure it’s Jon’s. Both of Martin’s hands are occupied holding him together after all.

He closes his eyes. He can deal with the mess of it all tomorrow.

Right now, he just feels safe. His friends are here and that’s enough.

[soliverse]

don’t call me - k.dy

(sequel to call me a fool. you can read this by itself, but some references would make more sense if you read the first part.)

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: so much angst, slight fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3.85k

synopsis: Doyoung missed an important milestone in your life. Now, it’s your turn to miss his calls.

prompt:

Ghost Of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, part of the Heartbreak Hotel collab by @nct-writers

dedication to:

@hunjins for leaving witty comments during beta reading

@johnyusangel for being my guardian angel during beta and when I was dying over a migraine + Qian Kun

@hxneyy-latte for nursing me back to health lol

taglist: @kunrengui (sorry this took a while 😔), @leolo404 @byeolhyesisi @thesongofdragons

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

Every day, your routine starts with staring at your phone for a few hours before getting out of bed. You'd check in all of your messaging apps to see if any of them came from Doyoung. Sadly, there's none of it this morning.

You would drag your mopey ass out of bed and start the day with dread, questioning why he hasn’t replied to your last text. Then, as you brush your teeth, you would check once again to see if you missed anything while you are preoccupied with oral hygiene.

The inbox notifications would still say zero. And then you'd wait… and wait… and wait some more hours, even days before he replies back.

Every time Doyoung refuses to reply to your messages soon, you get this sudden urge to bang your head into a wall, cursing yourself for texting him in the first place. You will then start to question your life choices, why you even texted him in the first place when you knew this is bound to happen. And that you probably sounded too clingy, too cheesy for his liking. Your thoughts filled as to why he refused to reply as soon as he could.

You sighed and placed your phone back into your pocket and proceeded to go on with your day. The academy is about to open and you have practice for your upcoming recital the following day.

You kept your phone around your vicinity even as you practiced. It's a good thing that your vocal mentor isn't here to point out your mistakes, but you're trying to hit every note as clean as you can. A feat that is impossible to do when you're completely distracted by something.

Doyoung: Hey.

That one word is enough to wash all of the worries that you had earlier. You once again attempted to bang your head into the wall, now cursing yourself for changing your emotions so quickly.

You kept your phone back at your table, practicing for a few more minutes before answering the text. This time, you sang with a smile on your lips, the burden of your worries suddenly lifted with a single word.

But that's just how it always is with you and your best friend.

Now, if you can only tell him how you feel.

///

You bowed at everyone for doing a great job at practice. You happily fished out your phone from your pocket to reply to Doyoung's earlier text.

You: Are you free this Saturday?

You placed your phone down for a moment to fix your stuff, but a ding! interrupted you midway and you just couldn’t help but look at his reply.

Doyoung: Not at all. Need help with something?

Your smile grew wider and you texted the details of your recital for Saturday. You've worked on the piece so hard that you wanted to share your success with him, just like he would share his with you.

The rest of the day went smoothly. It was full of wishful thinking and daydreams. And if it goes well, it might be the day that you tell him about how you really feel about him.

///

It was the day of the recital and your hands were shaking out of nervousness. Your grip on the mic was getting tighter, if not sweatier, as you heard the crowds forming outside to see you and your classmates perform.

The soundcheck commenced and they started calling all the participants by their name as they came on stage. You heard nothing besides your own heartbeat and your loud thoughts whenever you overthink. But you reassured yourself that you will do a good job.

You had to. Someone was watching and you wanted to make him proud.

Fiddling on your seat, you waited for a few numbers before it was your turn. You nervously walked out the stage, and you were blinded by the lights coming from the back of the theater. It was probably for the good. 

You couldn’t see anyone’s faces.

You couldn’t see his face. 

Because if you could, you would’ve choked on your words and hit the notes wrong once again. Thankfully, the performance went better than you expected. 

As soon as everyone came together for the curtain call, your eyes wandered to see Doyoung among the crowds. You scanned left and right, but there were no signs of him everywhere in the theater.

You consoled yourself with the fact that he probably went to the bathroom, or he was already backstage waiting for you. He couldn’t possibly miss this day, right?

The first thing that you did after coming down the stage was to have a closer look at the seats, just to make sure that he really was there in the crowd. Everyone else had their families with them, their friends, their lovers. 

But there were no signs of Doyoung in the crowd.

You tried hard to smile as everyone who passed by you congratulated you for doing a great job. But once again, you were distracted. Your mind was occupied with thoughts that you never expected to have that day.

Did he really forget about you?

Giving up completely, you made your way back backstage and hid your impending tears to everyone. On your way, you saw Johnny, waving a small bouquet of flowers to get your attention. This sparked a tiny bit of hope in you. If Johnny was around, then Doyoung must have been here somewhere, too.

You ran towards Johnny and gave him the tightest bear hug. You were worried that no one really watched you perform today. Your family lives abroad and they couldn’t make it to watch you, but you promised them that you will send them a video of you singing. You were really counting on Doyoung not only to watch you perform, but to film your performance as well. 

He must have been here somewhere.

“Thank God you came. I thought nobody saw me perform earlier,” you were once again on the verge of crying, but you didn’t have the heart to ask Johnny if Doyoung was indeed with him.

“Doyoung couldn’t make it today. He had to go out with the whole crew of his drama to celebrate their last day together. I came as soon as I heard about your performance.”

You fell quiet, breathing deep to hide your tears and your disappointment. But Johnny knew how you felt, so he pulled you tighter against him, completely encasing you completely on his embrace. “Don’t feel sad. You did so well today.”

///

Ever since then, you stopped taking calls from Doyoung. He would persistently call and text you every night to say sorry. Any other day, you would’ve been glad to see that finally, he’s the one that’s trying so hard to reach you. Sadly, you’re in no mood to talk to him. 

You thought it would’ve been cruel if you blocked his number from your phone, so you instead tried to text him excuses why you couldn’t talk.

You were tired. You went out with a friend. You just wanted to take some rest.

After hitting send, you tossed your phone in your bed, still feeling upset about him missing such an important day to you. You felt set aside like you’re the last person on his priority list.

That day made you realize that you’re spending way too much energy on someone that doesn’t return the favor. It was an unhealthy behavior that you need to get out of your system as soon as possible, even if that means cutting Doyoung from your life temporarily.

///

Doyoung was surprised to see you at the front door of the 127 dorm one day. You tried smiling at him as he opened the door to let you in, pretending that you were not upset with him in the previous days.

“Surprised you’re not busy today,” you remarked as you sat down, clearly aiming at Doyoung who was now feeling lost at your coldness towards him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Not at all,” you tried your best to avoid his gaze because one look at your face would definitely give everything away. You didn’t want to lie to him, but it was better than saying that you were mad because you had feelings for him.

“Anyways, where’s Johnny? He invited me to watch a movie this afternoon.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you had practice today? That’s why you couldn’t meet me?”

You sneered internally.

“Yeah. Sometimes people say one thing and then they actually mean another thing. You of all people should know.”

You saw Johnny coming out of his room, fully dressed and ready for your movie night together. You waved one last goodbye at Doyoung, who just realized that you were roasting him the whole time.

///

The passive-aggressiveness went on for a few more occasions. You refused his attempts to talk to you, knowing full well that your cold facade would wear off instantly once you let him. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but your pride was preventing you from making any rash decisions. You couldn’t just go back to living your life as Doyoung’s doormat. But, as per Johnny’s advice, you got to explain to him why you were feeling that way. He at least deserved that much.

That explanation came sooner than you had expected.

You were spending a lot of time with Johnny lately, but only because he treats you like a little sister. He must’ve missed his own sister back at home, so he was making sure to take care of you as much as he could. 

But Doyoung didn’t have to know that.

You had noticed the tension between the two of them whenever you would visit their dormitory. Johnny was just a bit irked at Doyoung because you were hurting, but he understood it from his perspective. He never knew how you felt in the first place, he wouldn’t have known how much he hurt you in the process.

What goes on in Doyoung’s brain though, you have no idea. He usually just stays away from the both of you whenever you’ve come to visit them, maybe throw in a couple of pleasantries before asking you to hang out with him once again. You kept on telling him that you will once you’re not busy with the academy, and then proceeds to forget about it on that same day.

One day, he’s finally had enough and decided to block the door when you were about to leave the dorm room.

"There's nothing to talk about Doyoung."

You tried to step out once again, but he didn't even budge from his place.

"Can you just tell me what I did? I already said sorry about not attending your recital. What else do you want me to do?"

You lowered your head and tried to leave again, determined not to answer his questions. But he's just as stubborn as you are, this time pushing you slightly, just enough to make you step back.

Your fists formed into a ball and your lips pursed in annoyance. Why does he care about you so much now that you're staying away from him?

"Let me leave, Doyoung. Johnny is waiting for me," you said as calmly as you could.

"Is that it? You're replacing me with Johnny? Just because of that one mistake? What kind of friendship is that?" Doyoung's voice went up a few notches, now looking as visibly upset as you are.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Doyoung," silence filled the room as soon as you said that statement. You both stare at each other awkwardly, both of you are still in a state of shock.

"I don't think this is the perfect time to tell you this, but you have to know eventually," grasping the straps of your handbag, you braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I have feelings for you Doyoung. That's why I was so hurt that you didn't attend the recital," you paused for a bit, biting your lower lip to hold yourself back from tearing up.

"It made me realize that my life, everything about me, revolves around you. I would literally drop everything when you say you need me. And yet, I'm so far away from your priority list that you can't even sit down for a few minutes to watch me perform," you felt a bit of moisture from your cheeks. Tears were already falling from your face without you even realizing it. 

You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and you held yourself back from sobbing to proceed to talk.

"But it's not your fault. I was the one at fault for lending you my time, and I was the one at fault for setting high expectations for someone who just treats me as a friend," you smiled weakly as you walked towards him one last time.

"So for now, I can't be your friend anymore. Not until I sort my feelings out and make things more awkward for us. Give me time for myself, Doyoung. I'll try to be a better friend soon."

You smiled as you lowered your head once again, your shoulders brushing over when you left the room. You didn't try to look back and walked as fast as possible, holding yourself together just before you reached the exit.

You ran out of their apartment building and as soon as you found a place where you can hide, you finally let yourself go. You sat there balling your eyes out and looked around for signs of your best friend. When you realized that he didn't even make an effort to comfort or follow you, your sobs got even louder as you sat down on the pavement to hug your knees.

"Go on... Let it out."

Someone sat down with you and started patting your back to comfort you. You raised your head and cleared the hair strands that stuck to your face to see who it is. It was Johnny.

"I saw everything that happened. I'm happy that you finally told him."

He rubbed your shoulders to calm you down once again, offering you his handkerchief so you could wipe your tears out. Once you finally managed to stop crying, he stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the pockets of his hoodie.

"If you need to cry all day, I'll be here."

///

Doyoung proved that your presence left a big mark that he never realized before. He thought he was just confused at first, or that he was just getting used to not being able to contact you whenever he could.

Just that evening, he was having a hard time memorizing the new choreography for their comeback. He kept on messing up one of the killing parts and everyone was frustrated that they couldn't move on to the other parts of the choreography. He felt sorry for everyone, so he left practice early to work on it himself without burdening the other members. His first instinct was the grab his phone and listen to your soothing voice, telling him to cheer up and that he will do better tomorrow.

But as soon as he was about to hit the dial button, it pained him to press the back button instead, stuffing the phone into his sweatpants and he wiped the sweat off of him.

He felt very heaviness, even more, when he was changing, basically ripping the door of his locker as he took its contents to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling of sweat. He was both mad and upset at the same time, almost ripping a part of his shirt when he was about to put it on.

He hasn't felt like this in a very long time and he needed a way to get things off of his chest. But without you to do it, it was practically impossible.

He grabbed his matching hat and jacket, stuffing his dirty clothes on his backpack and he made his way out of the building.

He made sure that no one saw him in that state, especially Haechan, who gave him so much shit when everybody found out about your confession.

"Everyone knew, you dumbass."

He just wished somebody would've told him sooner, but he knew it wasn't their place to tell him about it. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

His heavy footsteps dragged him to the ramen shop that you used to go to together. He stopped coming here when he lost contact with you, and instead of making him feel better, it made him even more upset upon the reminder of how he fucked up. But he needed a way to make himself feel better. Ramen worked back then. Maybe it would work right now.

He made the choice to not sit down at your usual spot, the one closest to the kitchen so you would get your meals as soon as you could. He instead opted for one of the corners. It felt awkward, but he was there to eat, not enjoy the ambiance. He ordered a bowl to himself, something that he wasn't used to seeing on the table. The bowl of ramen looked so empty on the table by itself, and so he ordered a lot of side dishes with a few bottles of soju to comfort himself.

To his surprise, he was served by the same auntie that used to tease you and him before when the two of you used to go to this place. He hoped that she wouldn't recognize and ask for your whereabouts, but he was very unlucky that day.

"Oh. It's been a while since I saw you! How are you?"

Doyoung just bowed to the auntie and told him that he was fine and that he missed eating there for the longest time.

"I'm glad that I finally get to see you! You missed your friend though, she just left earlier."

He was put to a halt. Something about you being mentioned sparked something in him. Although, he wasn't able to pinpoint what that feeling was at that time.

"I think she was showing the place to another friend of yours. The big guy ate a lot, so we're worried for a bit that we’re about to close early for today."

Doyoung felt his heart sink, but he still bowed and thanked the auntie for the meal. 

He stared at the contents of his table for a while, but you would always remind him that the soup tasted better when it's still hot. For some reason though, the bowl of ramen wasn't as tasty as it used to be. He used to finish bowls of that same ramen before, but he couldn't even manage to finish one. He knew better than to waste food though, so he forced himself to eat the rest of it and jumped out of there as soon as he could.

The ramen certainly didn't make him feel better.

///

It's been weeks and the first thing that Doyoung did after waking up was to open his phone for messages. There were a few of them, most of it coming from the other members, but he wasn't interested in reading in any of them.

Getting out of bed seemed harder than usual. He felt a few pounds heavier, which meant he either gained weight or he just lost the will to get up from his bed.

He tried not to stare at his phone as he brushed his teeth, so he kept them hidden in his pocket and used all of his wills to not check on it every hour.

He noticed that there was a bit of commotion coming from outside. He paid no attention and went back to his usual morning routine, getting ready for a separate schedule that he had that morning. He went to his room to get dressed and pack the things that he may need that day. Once everything was done, he went to the kitchen to tell everyone that he was going, but he was met with something else instead.

The rest of the boys were gathered up around the table, enjoying breakfast that he assumed that you made. You just stood there happily as you served everyone pieces of the omelet that you made. You turned around in his direction and he was met with that smile that he missed so much.

"Doie, would you like some?"

The nickname made him flinch. It was something that you never used on him before, but it was enough to make him look away and step out of the room immediately.

"I'm good. I just came to say goodbye to everyone."

"Oh good!" you said as you gathered your things and stuffed them neatly in your tote bag. "I just came here to drop some food because this guy said that he wasn’t feeling well. Let's go together," you said as you tiptoed your way out of the tight kitchen, messing Johnny's hair before you finally stepped out of the room.

"Let's go?" you asked giddily as you grabbed Doyoung's arm and waved to everybody goodbye. He finally realized what you must've felt when it was the other way around.

The walk towards the bus stop was a quiet one. None of you dared to talk. But he noticed that the spring of your step is back, if not better than before. Meanwhile, he was just walking there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to you because of how he left things the last time that you talked. He wanted to talk to you for the longest time, but he respected your wishes to be alone. Now he was regretting making that decision.

The both of you stood there at the nearest bus stop, the atmosphere is even quieter since it was just the two of you standing there.

"I missed you Doie," you spoke, breaking the silence between you too.

"I was hoping that we can talk right after this. You know, just to clear the air."

He remained quiet in his place, not really knowing how to respond to her.

"Meet me at the ramen place later?"

"Sure," Doyoung almost hit himself for answering so soon. To him, he sounded very eager to eat with you once again.

The bus finally arrived and you stepped inside, making your way into the seat. His stare lingered at you for a while, to see if you would look around like how you always did when he sent you home. You took those same steps, hesitating at the eighth one to see if he still stuck around to look at you.

You hesitantly sat back down in your seat, unsure as to whether he finally looked back at you when you were about to leave.

You never saw him though, because he asked you to sit down and within a split second, he was gone from your view.

Guess you're just gonna have to find out tonight.

xxx

[sooibian]

IRS and Prejudice

Pairing: CEO!Minseok x fem!employee Reader

Genre / Themes: Fluff!!! Frenemies to (maybe) Lovers? Office AU with some references to ‘The Office’, flirtatious, cat-whisperer, Aries Minseok vs Aries reader!

Description: In which Kim Minseok is nothing like other bosses. Nothing.

A/N: happy birthday to mochi ari! @his-mochi-cheeks​ 💗

Word count: 2.7k (written in a state of delirium eeeek)

You quickly hit Alt+Tab on the resume that you sat updating for the umpteenth time as the sound of heels click-clacking against the floor grew closer.

“My office,” said your immediate supervisor the moment you looked up at her, a well practised unfazed expression crossing your face. If switching between applications at lighting speed were an Olympic sport, you were certain you’d score nothing less than a gold medal. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a niggling doubt about having been caught in the act.

You gave her a slight nod in response, lips stretched into a thin line. Smoothing out the wrinkles in your red and black plaid shirt (the one you wore on most casual Fridays since you could hardly be bothered with your appearance at work; despite the feminist within you, the dull back office team discouraged you from making the effort), you followed her into her office with your best businesslike gait while your mind made up a million excuses for what her keen eyes might have found on your 24-inch screen.

“Sit,” the middle aged woman commanded, resting her hands on her hips. Leaning against her teakwood desk, she crossed her legs at the ankles, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and cleared her throat. It’s how she’d fidget when she was on the edge about something.

You imagined your expression if a camera was to pan to you, cinéma vérité. Indulging your curiosity, you shrugged your shoulders with a confused look on .your face

“Everything okay?” You mustered in your best Pam Beesly impression.

Your supervisor let out a deep sigh and answered your question with a more awkward one, "When was the last time you submitted cash reports to the IRS?”

You froze into a still frame.

One of the major reasons you wanted to change jobs was because innumerable responsibilities that were entirely unrelated to your department had been carelessly plonked upon your shoulders. Submitting monthly cash reports to the IRS should have ideally been a task of the receivables department and not shifted onto someone incharge of warranties.

“I - I - ,” you started by trying to justify your negligence before even attempting to answer her question but honestly, you didn’t even want to think about when you last submitted those reports and there was absolutely nothing you could say in your defense.

You’d messed up. Big time.

“Ten months. Ten months is not a small amount in penalties,” she said in her quietest tone as you struggled to fight back angry tears. You’d been with the company for over six years now but it was the first time you’d been accused of laxity. It felt like a punch in the gut.

She turned on her heel to take her seat - movements deliberately slow, allowing you some time to regain your composure. With her eyes on her phone, she leaned back in her chair and said with a sense of finality in her voice, “You know what you have to do.”

Head hung low and eyes lined with tears, you walked out of her office muttering all the things you didn’t say in your defense. The long and short of it was that this duty should’ve never fallen into your lap in the first place. As you paced in the direction of your cubicle (with twenty sets of curious eyes on your back), a pair of hands suddenly gripped your shoulders and a dulcet voice sang, “Careful, Warranties.”

At this point, you were ready to rip your hair out. Looking up you met CEO Minseok Kim’s bright, catlike eyes as he stood at a hair’s breadth distance from you, smelling of expensive cologne - the kind that was equivalent to several months of your salary, and coffee. He always smelled like coffee and in your opinion that was his only redeeming quality.

His handsome face that every woman and man in the office fawned over was a source of your annoyance - you didn’t care for cocksure people at all and he was the uncrowned king of arrogance. He took over the reins of a used car dealership from his father upon his retirement - it was nothing too fancy - yet he enjoyed strutting around the office as if he managed a multinational conglomerate.

It was his younger sister that did the real work. She managed the more important businesses while Minseok had been handed the responsibility of just one company and from your (and the Sales Team Lead Baekhyun's) standpoint, he wasn’t doing a marvellous job at it.

Your Aries energy didn’t permit you to apologize for nearly butting heads with him so you feigned a polite smile and side-stepped to your right and he simultaneously side-stepped to his left, his every little wrong move bolstering your frustration level. It happened again and again and again until he bowed ever so slightly, stretched his arm out and said, “Please,” gesturing for you to leave first, the corners of his mouth curled up in a wide, gummy grin.

What was he so happy about all the time?

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he winked at you in response. You immediately made a mental note to find out if you could report the CEO for improper behaviour. You had a full-blown list that started with his attire - should a CEO be allowed to dress in hoodies, skinny jeans, and comfortable sneakers while the rest of you suffocated in the restraints of formal clothing for four days of the week?

Huffing, you slumped in your chair and texted your aunt informing that you wouldn’t make it to barbecue night and immediately flipped your phone to silent to avoid seeing her colourful messages berating you for the last minute cancellation.

Next, you aggressively typed ‘IRS CASH STATEMENTS’ in big block letters into the sticky notes app as a reminder of the humiliation you experienced today.

***

When you last checked time, it was noon.

The sun had long gone down since then as you tried to wrangle customers’ social security numbers out of the ever-so-reticent-to-share-information receivables department who were all packing up for the day. You were this close to socking them in the jaw but you still maintained a courteous smile and pleaded with them throwing in tonnes of cringey corporate jargon, “Please, I just have three more reports to go and I’d really appreciate your prompt help with the information.”

Suddenly, a familiar cheery voice fell upon your ears, “What’s going on?”

You were surprised to find Minseok still in the office but also extremely grateful for his presence because his single sideway glance at Angela achieved what your five emails and three verbal requests failed to.

Furiously typing away on her keyboard, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve sent them over.”

Minseok gave you a casual two-finger salute and nearly went skipping back to his ...no, not his but to your immediate supervisor’s now empty, glass-paned office - where you could see him directly and he you - the three walls of your cubicle doing nothing to keep you out of the periphery of his blatant staring and his trademark cheeky grin that lit up his ridiculously handsome face.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you returned his smile but not with your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you - making you, a grown woman, blush like a schoolgirl under his self-assured gaze. Minseok was nothing like a CEO - he dressed casually, talked to anyone and everyone like he’s known them forever. He’d come into work regularly after prolonged dry spells only to disappear again. His laidback attitude did no favours to your opinion about him.

To pointedly avoid Minseok you put your head down on your desk on the pretext of catching a little break.

… big mistake.

***

You woke up with a start to the soothing and inviting aroma of... home. Opening your eyes to cinnamon bread drizzled with cream cheese on your desk felt like a fever dream until Minseok rolled his chair forward in your direction and you instinctively backpedaled. Clutching his stomach he broke into a vast roar of laughter while offering you a paper napkin with his other hand.

Brows furrowed, you stared at him quizzically as sleep continued to irritate your eyes and the mark of the ballpoint pen you fell asleep on, niggled at your cheek. Hesitantly, you took the napkin from his hand and dabbed it around your eyes and he shook his head in response, pointing to the annoying curled up corner of his own mouth.

“You were drooling,” he guffawed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Upon noticing that you immediately grew conscious about your appearance, he waved his hands frantically and added, “It’s no problem… I drool too, haha..in fact it’s ...umm..”

You glowered at him and he instantly looked away allowing you to fix your face as his fingers impatiently drummed away on your desk.

The clock struck 7:53 p.m.

Your last meal had been sometime before noon. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been grateful for the little snack Minseok had brought you - it was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from someone like him but you’d been expecting your period in a week’s time which made you unusually ravenous.

Lips pursed and head tilted to the side, he handed you a bottle of water which you gulped down within a matter of seconds while steadily growing wary of your ultimate boss’ intentions. But you pivoted your attention to prioritizing. First, you’d wolf down the delicious cinnamon bread and then think about whether you were going to walk out of this office on your own two feet or as a human-skin suit on Minseok’s well defined back.

“Thank you for the snack,” you said to him with a forced smile, “I’ll get back to my reports now.” As you swivelled your chair to face the monitor, his hand hooked at the armrest and he spun you back around towards himself.

“What’s the rush, Warranties?” Resting his chin in his hand, he wondered with a quirked brow and a smile teasing the edges of his plump mouth.

It was not your place to ask what your boss was doing in his own office at 8 p.m. on a Friday night, especially one that hardly ever came in to begin with. He could clock in and out at his own whim and sit wherever he liked even if it meant being an utter inconvenience to someone on a stringent deadline but you took your shot anyway. Doing nothing to mask the sarcasm in your tone, you said to him, “Minseok, if you came into work everyday, you wouldn’t have to stay back so late, you know.”

Unfazed, he responded, “But my schedule doesn’t allow me to come into work everyday.”

Schedule?

You decided not to stretch this conversation longer than necessary, especially not after his ridiculous response. Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I just have five reports left to finish, Minseok. Maybe we can talk later.”

“I run an organization involved in wildlife rights and care,” he explained anyway, rummaging the pockets of his jeans.

No shit, you scoffed. If only Minseok Kim could get any more predictable. A not-for-profit organization was every rich kids guide...no facade...no scam.. to make it seem like they actually did something.

Handing you a card, he continued, “It requires me to travel extensively - last month I was in a park in South America, working with this one puma, Elsa. She was a cage cat who got so used to the confines that she wouldn’t come out of the cage for walks in the jungle because she didn’t like anyone touching her collar, so we couldn’t attach a rope to walk with her. But, I think I’m somewhat of a genius and a cat-whisperer. Within three to four weeks, we managed to get her out of the cage.”

He pulled his phone out next, brought his chair closer to yours and started swiping through the picture gallery to show you a magnificent puma walking around the park as if she were its reigning queen. He resumed the story proudly, “Now she walks every single day, without a rope around her neck. And she’s very, very loving and affectionate.” His face lit up with awe and admiration for Elsa.

Probably you'd misunderstood Minseok…just a little. His passion about his organization did something to favourably change your opinion about him but that didn't mean you didn't have your immediate supervisor and the IRS to answer to anymore.

"Why are you telling me all this?" You asked, covertly moving closer to your workstation.

"We have a vacant position in Treasury." He answered and you immediately stopped dead in your tracks.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, "You did not just try to poach me from your own company! Minseok you don't cease to surprise me -"

With a smirk on his face, he gave you finger guns. "That’s always been the goal, Warranties!"

"I still have five-

"Three..you have only three reports left. How stupid do you think I am?”

Caught in a lie, you could do nothing to save face so you simply pivoted your chair only to be forcefully twirled back by his strong arms again.

“Now what?" You asked, letting out a groan.

With his foot on one leg of the chair base, he pushed you back towards your desktop and said with a voice laced heavily with his trademark sass, "Check your inbox first."

Grumbling under your breath, you said something along the lines of ‘what does a CEO do anyway’. You then refreshed your inbox, impatiently waiting for an email of several MBs to load as Minseok watched you with an expression of victory painted across his features.

Your mouth fell open to find perfect to the t cash reports for the last three months which made you instantly regret your snide remarks.

Minseok snapped you out of your reverie with his smooth voice, “I may not know much of what a corporate CEO is supposed to do but I do how to get work done. Angela was more than happy to do this for a ‘team leader’ nameplate on her desk.”

Struggling to hold his compelling gaze, you muttered, “I don’t know how to thank you...”

“But I do!” He quipped.

“Of course, you do,” you sighed.

“Let me join you for barbeque night at your aunt’s..i’m sure they won’t mind you bringing a friend along?”

Before you could begin looking for a bug in your cubicle, he explained, “I caught a preview of her message on your phone while you were happily tucked away in dreamland.”

“You - you - that’s an invasion of privacy!” You lambasted him.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and said casually, “I was bored. Besides, privacy is a myth in today’s day and age...just like democracy, the importance of drinking eight glasses of water a day, the goldfish memory, or the thing about houseflies -”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Privacy is a myth. You - you can join us, I guess,” you interrupted him.

With widened eyes he emphasized, “Unless you don’t want me to -”

No matter how much and how often Minseok irked you, he was a charmer. You knew your aunt and your cousins would love having someone like him join in the get together and it really wouldn’t hurt your reputation to bring your boss, especially one like Minseok, along at a family event. You also couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospects of working in an NPO’s treasury department.

“You know that’s not what I meant -” You replied, eyes on the monitor as you double checked the email you’d drafted for your immediate supervisor.

“So you want me to come along?” He asked in his flamboyantly flirtatious tone.

Ignoring him, you hit send only after adding a little smiling emoji. Shutting down your system, you picked up your coat and answered with a genuine smile this time, “I’m driving.”

************

A/N: the story about puma Elsa is real! i’ll link it in one of the rb’s for those interested :)

[drxwsyni]

Denied︱Yandere Shindo Yo x f!Reader

Prompt: “I can’t wait any longer.”

Trope: Jealous!Character x Friend!Character

a/n: This is my submission for the weekly nsfw prompt from the @bnhabookclub! I’m feeling really self-conscious about posting this so I hope it turned out okay. I don’t have any content for this character so I figured this might be a good start. Please read the warnings and only continue if you’re comfortable with them. This is set in a college/university au, quirks still exist and everyone is 18+.

5.8k words

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, swearing, some degradation at the end, yandere behaviour

_____

He was just another guy in your department at first.

Lingering in the study hall, making small talk with other students before lectures. You saw him a lot, but nothing ever moved past brief glances.

Your friends were the ones who introduced you to him. Whether you should be grateful or not was beyond you at this point.

It was late, you had a night class and were packing your laptop into your backpack at the end of a lecture. A Friday night usually didn’t mean much for you. Just as you were at the moment, your plans would usually lean towards the monotonous side. The comfort of your dorm room played a large part in those plans―but not tonight.

Those who chose to grace you with their presence time and time again, while you wouldn’t always consider them your friends, were set on dragging you out with them for drinks. You didn’t necessarily mind it, but the pushiness wasn’t completely appreciated. Especially when it came in the form of a couple not so restrained individuals.

Every friend group has their flirts, yours being no exception. Only now there was a new addition.

Shindo Yo.

He made his presence very clear. Transferring into your class right before the deadline for availability, he quickly wormed his way into your life. It was a matter of keeping himself in all the right places where he knew you would be.

Like with the peers you chose to hang around with, of course.

It was sickeningly quick, the way Yo grew comfortable in your presence. The whole night was spent trying to weasel your way from his side. It was a task that proved to be much harder than it should’ve.

You’d shove off the arm draped over your shoulders, or move away from his frame leaning against yours at a bar table. He just met you, yet he was already so goddamn clingy. As far as you were concerned, it only proved what kind of person he was. Someone who got too comfortable too quickly―absolutely no awareness for someone's boundaries.

As much as you hoped he’d leave you alone after that painfully tiring night out, he didn’t. Yo sat down in the seat beside you the next class you two had together.

A cheeky, “This seat taken?” Of course it wasn’t―you always got to class early so there was never anyone occupying the surrounding area for a while. Which meant he had time to chat your ear off until the prof showed up.

“Don’t think I got your number last Friday.” You knew he was looking at you with that shit eating grin. There was no way you’d give him the time of day to look though.

“You didn’t.” You pretended to read a page in your textbook in an attempt to silently convey how much you’d rather not to speak to him.

“That’s right, I didn’t.” He paused, presumably waiting for something else from you. And when you didn’t speak, he did. “I think it only makes sense I did get it though.”

You spared him a side glance, noting his jovial attitude, “And why is that?” Sounding a little snarky wasn’t your intention, but the excessive amount of affection he’d shown deemed it permissible.

He gave a half-hearted chuckle, “We’re in the same class, we hang with the same people. And now,” he put his laptop and water bottle on the table in front of the two of you, “we sit together. Don’t you think it’s only natural that we exchanged numbers?”

He acted so casual, his tone so friendly that it was hard to deny him. And in an act of reflex, you didn’t. “I guess not...but we could just―”

“Here. Make a new contact for yourself.” Yo extended his unlocked phone towards you, and with a reluctant hand you took it. The contacts app was already open, so you started to type in your information.

“Not gonna give me your phone too?” You looked up at the man who was waiting expectedly, eyeing the device that was resting on your textbook before looking back at you.

“Oh, uh...yeah, sorry.” Mildly embarrassed, you handed him your phone as you spoke, not before unlocking it and opening the same app. His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, and for a moment you wondered if the contact was just as intentional as all the other times he insisted on touching you last Friday.

The two of you sat in silence as you finished filling out the contact form.

He returned your device, you doing the same. You mentally rolled your eyes upon seeing the heart emoticons Yo placed next to his name.

“Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t we start hanging out more? From what I’ve seen you don’t exactly make a point in talking to anyone. You could use the company.”

Was that supposed to sound friendly?

“Ah, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with school and―”

“Oh, c’mon. I’m sure you can find some free time. If it’s parties you’re not big on we can just study together.”

You looked at him, slightly offended at the interruption but also confused at the offer of studying. He seemed like the kind of guy to just wing it through all his classes. Going out for more drinks certainly wasn’t on your to do list and it was something you presumed he was more inclined to suggest. But studying―that was something you could do. “I guess...if you’re okay with that. I’ve got some free time after this class, it’s alright if you’re too busy though.”

“No, I’m good too. Why don’t you send me your schedule so I know when you’re free.”

It was a harmless suggestion. Convenient even―he wouldn’t have to pester you over when it was a good time to study. But something about that smile of his didn’t sit right. It was more like a grin―suggestive in a way.

It made you uneasy.

You took out your phone, “I’ve got a lot of classes so I’m not sure we’ll be able to see each other very often.” Opening his contact, you attached the image of your schedule to the text and sent it. A second later and his phone buzzed atop the table.

“Perfect. Would you look at that, our schedules are actually pretty similar.” Yo was scanning the timetable, meanwhile you weren’t feeling so pleased hearing that you might have to be around him more than you could handle.

He looked like he was going to say something else, but just as he opened his mouth to speak the professor walked into the room. You hadn’t even realized it, but amidst your conversation with Yo the majority of the students had filed in.

It looked like the instructor was still getting ready for the lecture, booting up the terminal at the front of the room to display a powerpoint.

“You mind if I borrow a pencil? Forgot some stuff in my dorm.” He was back to looking at you with that smile of his. Maybe it really was just a friendly gesture, nothing more.

You were probably overthinking things.

“Yeah, gimme a sec―” Rooting through your pencil case, you managed to locate a spare utensil for the man. Offering it to him with a quiet “Here,” Yo took it from your hand.

“Thanks cutie.”

The professor started up the powerpoint. All attention shifted to the front of the room, meanwhile yours remained on the nonchalant behaviour of the man sitting next to you.

_____

The lecture was over before you knew it. Note taking and trying not to fall asleep were the main battles to be had, aside from trying to distract yourself from Yo.

Was he closer than he was before the professor started speaking?

“Hey, earth to (y/n).”

You looked up at his soft brown eyes, “What? Oh, sorry―zoned out a little.” Awkwardly, you stuffed your notes and laptop into your bag.

Yo laughed a little at your state, “Yeah, I can tell.” He began doing the same before continuing, “So, where did you wanna study. I know of a nice little place in the library on this side of campus. Or maybe if you’re hungry we can go to that new cafe that opened up down the street…”

Right, you promised him you’d study.

Somehow in your muddled thoughts the declaration got lost on you, but naturally such a thing would never happen to Yo. He was much too persistent for that.

The library was secluded. Not a good idea.

“The cafe should be fine. Is there anything in particular you want to go over?” All your belongings were effectively shoved into your bag. You stood up, retrieving the light jacket that was hanging off the back of your chair.

Yo began doing the same, picking up a discarded sweater. “Hmm, I think I just wanna go over the basics. But I’d be more than happy to help you out with anything.” He was pulling on the article of clothing, pushing the chair in with his leg. “I’ve actually got pretty good grades in this class. Think you need a tutor?”

His tone was almost teasing, but you paid no mind. “I think I’m good. Why don’t we just focus on the material from today’s lecture. Not quite sure I retained most of it to be honest.”

“Cool, you can borrow my notes if you missed anything.”

He was already walking in the direction of the door before you could respond, his backpack lazily slung over his shoulder.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself. Studying with someone was better than being alone. It’s just...Yo was very eager. You’d known him for less than a week, and he was already acting like you were lifetime friends. Actually, it felt like it was a little more than that.

But you’d keep it as friends. Besides, you weren’t about to abandon the people you had long-term committed relationships with for fresh meat.

Following him out of the room, you tried to maintain a safe distance between the two of you. Both physically and in conversation―it was safer that way.

_____

It would appear that Yo really was as intelligent as he claimed. You missed more than you thought from the lecture, and the man didn’t hesitate for a second when it came to diligently explaining the content.

Surprisingly, the time you spent with him was enjoyable. Perhaps you judged him too soon. There were no complaints on his end as you went over the material. A back and forth that should be painstakingly tedious was nothing but the sort.

You just studied. Disregarding a few flirtatious comments here and there, he was mostly respectable. And when the time came to go your separate ways, you did so with a hint of reluctance. However, that too was quickly disregardable.

The relaxing atmosphere of your dorm was much preferable.

It wasn’t the last time Yo asked to study with you. Surely enough, when the opportunity presented itself, he had one thing in mind. Always a one sided initiation, he would send you a quick text, asking if you were free.

You were always free, and when it came to something as harmless as studying there wasn’t anything to hold you back from holing up in a cafe with Yo after class.

But that wasn’t enough for him.

Too much distance, you presumed. It wasn’t something you minded―you preferred it that way. But Yo was a man committed to closeness. And he wanted to be close to you.

He came to your dorm room unannounced, passing it off as checking up on you. And if you weren’t doing anything you would be soon, him always insisting that an impromptu study session was in need.

You had no clue how he found your dorm room.

Yo was nice to you. Patient, understanding―a little touchy, but still. He was nice. It made it easy to overlook his less than ideal traits.

The traits that had him slowly integrating himself into your everyday life. Or at least trying to.

He suggested doing something that didn’t involve hovering over textbooks and drowning in the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Going out for dinner, seeing that new movie that just came out, going to a live music performance at the bar.

You denied him at each turn. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Yo. It was just that you had your suspicions about him. The relationship you two held was still newly formed. Maybe a month had gone by at the most, and during that time you were trying to get a better idea of the kind of person he was.

The person he didn’t let everyone see.

There was no way he was so effortlessly kind and helpful. He was a good friend, someone to study with. But there was concern to be held when it came to the prospect of who he really was. If there was a different personality underneath the layers of sweet sentiments and innocence, you needed to be aware of them.

He was a man to be kept at a distance at the moment, for your own sake.

Your other friends didn’t warrant the same treatment. You’d known them since graduating high school for the most part. Maybe a few of them were newer acquaintances, but they still had at least a year under their belt.

Another month went by, and you were still on the same level of friendship. Study buddies, with the occasional bout of small talk here and there.

But he was pushing you. The disconnect was getting to him. The visits to your dorm didn’t stop, and he started suggesting other, less public spots to go over the course content.

He brought up going to the library once again.

“They’ve got these private rooms we can rent so it’s easier to study. Doesn’t that sound better?”

You trusted Yo, but only to an extent. Not the way you trusted your other friends. And he saw that.

Two more months and not much had changed. Exams were rolling around and you needed to focus more than ever. But a little fun couldn’t hurt.

A few times here and there you were once again dragged out to social events. Parties, bar hopping―shameless behaviour.

Except it wasn’t―not to Yo.

He tagged along, like he would with any other excursion you went on. Like the first night you went out with him he was as clingy as ever. And just like before you kept pushing him off. Maybe not as much, but enough for there to be a difference. A difference between the way you treated him and the way you let all your other friends get close to you. That’s what was shameless―his complete disregard for your boundaries.

After one night of repeated resistance he got worse. The insisting attitude was amplified. He sat closer to you, and you did your best to subtly inch away. Sometimes you let him have his fun, but mostly you wanted to maintain that space that kept you safe. If he did turn out to be someone that wasn’t the man you’d been studying with for almost four months, you needed to have a way out. Being in public with him did the trick.

The two of you were burning the midnight oil―luckily the cafe on campus was open until the current ungodly hours of the night. Yo was as helpful as ever, going over the seemingly endless notes and lecture powerpoints as many times as you needed. You tried to help him, but he was too smart for his own good, or at least that’s how he acted.

And yet, his normal beaming personality―always a little too kind to feel genuine―just seemed a little...off.

You couldn't quite place where the feeling came from.

“Ahh, well I don’t know about you but I’m ready to pack it in,” he sighed with a stretch. The two of you were huddled around a small table, nearly completely covered in papers, textbooks, wayward sticky notes―you name it.

It was late, neither of you were really tired, but the idea of going over the same thing you’d been reading for the past three hours wasn’t appealing.

You agreed, “Yeah, I’m good with that. Thanks for helping me tonight, probably would’ve procrastinated otherwise.” It was the truth, you were a glutton for punishment, and avoiding the necessary was something you were prone to do.

“No problem, cutie. You know I don’t mind. I get a lot out of it too after all.”

You shook your head, lightly laughing at his claim. “Like you need it, your marks are practically perfect.”

Both of you were lazily moving your things into your respective bags while he responded. “It’s not just the studying, I get to spend time with you.”

You glanced up at him with an inquisitive look before disregarding the notion. “Yeah, okay. Well lemme know if you wanna cram a bit more before the exam. You know by now I’ve got nothing better to do.” Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you grabbed the empty mug and placed it with the other dirty cups at the counter.

Yo did the same, “Actually, would you mind stopping by my dorm really quick. For once there’s actually something I don’t get about the lessons. Maybe you could help?”

He was giving you the innocent smile, waiting for a response. “You mean like...right now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it’ll only take a sec. Left the notes there by accident.”

It seemed harmless enough, and if it would be brief then surely you could spare the time to assist him.

You followed Yo out of the cafe, letting him lead you to the residence building he was staying in on campus. It wasn’t a long walk, and you were thankful given that you wanted to spend as little time as possible completing this final task of the night.

The journey up the elevator and to his room was done in silence, you taking in the familiar surroundings as your own dorm building was made to look almost identical. Eventually you arrived at his door, him unlocking it and letting you enter first.

He had one of the single room dorms, fit with a separate washroom and kitchen area.

“It’s just in my bedroom.” He moved past another door, and you remained trailing his path. “I’ve got it here somewhere...Here it is!”

He held out some papers being kept together by a staple in the corner. You took it, venturing further into the room as you scanned the documents.

“Ah, Yo...isn’t this stuff we’ve already gone over?”

You heard the door to his bedroom shut behind you, prompting you to turn in his direction. Yo still had his hand on the doorknob, a pensive look mixed with almost a brief moment of conflict. But that quickly faded.

“Y’know, I’ve been trying to figure out how I was gonna go about this for a while. I just...I can’t wait any longer. And honestly, I’m surprised you even came up here.” He laughed off the notion, eyes coming to rest on your form.

You put the papers down on the windowsill. “What are you talking about?”

He was looking at you with almost apathetic eyes, contrasting the slight smile that was just a little too off. “What, you think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been treating me?”

“I’m not sure I’m following, Yo...”

“You keep pushing me away. Time and time again…” He took a step forward, “You don’t do that with anyone else. Why is that?”

He was blocking the only exit to the room. You eyed the door, a pang of anxiety washing over you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about...Can we just go over the work―”

“Shut up. You know what I’m talking about.” He spoke slowly, drawing closer to you as he continued, “Your little friends don’t get the same treatment. You don’t mind getting close with them, do you?”

He was backing you further into the room, each stride he took forward being responded with a step behind from you. “What makes them so special, huh?”

Another step.

“They have something I don’t?”

Another step.

“I bet they’ve got you wrapped around their finger.”

Another step. His methodical and drawn out rant didn’t cease.

“And they’re probably fucking telling you to stay away from me, aren’t they?”

You hit the desk behind you, leaning back to put a desperate few more centimeters between the two of you. It left you at a loss for words, seeing this completely new side of him. Something threatening.

Yo was barely even a foot away, voice dangerously low. “Oh, sweetheart.” In an unexpected movement, he cupped your face with both hands, staring directly into your pleading eyes. “You don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

A little too gently in contrast to his demanding attitude, Yo pressed his lips against yours. You grabbed his forearms, attempting to pry him off. He only responded by deepening the kiss, pressing you further into the desk behind you. Unable to comprehend his actions, you stood there frozen.

He didn’t stop, one of his hands weaving its way into your hair, a leg pushing itself in between yours. Seemingly unsatisfied with your lack of reciprocation, he gave your locks a harsh tug. The brief pain made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue past your parted lips. If you knew any better you might’ve just bit down on the offending intrusion, but something told you it would only bring bad news.

Yo held you against him until you were frantically pushing against his chest. The lack of oxygen must’ve been mutual, as soon he pulled away.

But he wasn’t quite done yet.

Moving past your lips, Yo began leaving a trail of light kisses―along your jawline, descending to the soft, supple flesh of your neck. The hand that once remained cupping your face had moved, opting to wrap around your waist to prevent you from squirming out of his grasp.

“Y-Yo, I don’t think―”

He bit down harshly on the junction between your neck and your collarbone, stopping your train of thought and earning a small yelp. A little gentler, he sucked on the spot before detaching from it, moving to place new marks on a few other areas.

The whole time you were at odds with yourself.

This was wrong. He was just a friend. It’s all you wanted him to be.

And yet, the nagging voice in the back of your head grew more and more distant with each passing second.

Yo paused his ministrations, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this. You’re such a fucking tease, you know.”

In a swift movement he gripped your hips and lifted you into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around him for support.

“What are you doing? I think we should just―”

“Just what? It’s your fault I’m like this.” He was moving towards his bed, and upon reaching it laid you down at the foot of it. Not wasting a moment, he climbed over your form, nestling himself in between your legs. He leaned down to capture your lips with his once again. One hand next to your head was used to steady himself while the other moved to undo the buttons of your blouse.

Finally catching on to his actions, your own hands flew to the one fumbling with your top. You managed to break the kiss, a little breathless as you spoke, “Stop it Yo, please.”

He took both of your hands, using only one of his to pin them above you. Without the obstacle he resumed his attack on the other side of your neck, ignoring your pleading, now preferring to simply rip at the shirt. You heard a few buttons hit the ground as they flew from the fabric.

Sitting up slightly, Yo fixed his gaze on your now exposed chest. “So...fucking beautiful.” It came out in a breathy sigh, like the sight eased every tension in his body all at once.

He was getting impatient. His head dipped back down to your exposed chest, alternating between gently nipping at the skin and latching onto one spot for a few moments before moving on. His now free hand trailed down the side of your waist, inching lower and lower down your body.

It was a pitiful attempt―trying to pull your hands out of his grasp. Yo was much stronger than you once perceived, another thing to prove just how much you didn’t know about him. Your quiet pleas fell upon deaf ears, him paying no mind to your protests in favour of reaching some self satisfying goal.

The wandering hand slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, and you could feel his fingers brush against the seat of your panties. He momentarily pressed his fingers into the plush and covered skin. That didn’t seem to be enough for him though, as in a swift motion he pushed the fabric aside, a digit slipping between your folds. He massaged teasingly small circles repeatedly, making you unconsciously buck your hips in hopes of gaining more friction. After a few moments his fingers delved lower, gathering some of your slick in between them.

Yo smiled dangerously against your skin at the realization, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?” His hot breath fanned against you as he chuckled. “Good, it’ll be easier for the both of us if you stopped acting like you didn’t want me.”

You whimpered at his crude words, turning your head to the side in shame. He was right, the heat you felt pooling from his actions wasn’t intended, at least not from you, but it was there nonetheless.

“C’mon, don’t get all shy now.” Without warning he pushed a single finger into your burning core, earning a shocked gasp from you. His thumb remained circling your clit as he pumped agonizingly slowly in and out of you. He added another digit soon after, the slight stretch making your face scrunch up in a small wince.

Assuming he’d gotten bored with leaving marks all over your chest, Yo moved up again to press his lips back into yours.

His fingers curled expertly inside you, reaching that soft, spongy area that sent your mind reeling. You were slowly falling apart around him. And in a moment when you were trying to come back to your senses, Yo activated his quirk, sending ripples of low vibrations through your core.

You jolted from the unexpected sensation before you felt your body reacting sickeningly quick to its effects. He didn’t cease his attack for a second, muffling the moans you tried desperately to hold back while greedily working his mouth against yours. Leaving no area unexplored, you could only let him consume you further as your body succumbed to his ministrations.

Yo’s actions grew more intense, his fingers moving faster in an almost brutal pace while he let his quirk grow in intensity every time he hit that sensitive spot, targeting it with each thrust. You felt the coil in your lower abdomen start to tighten as he slowly worked you towards release.

He broke the kiss, leaving you panting in his wake. “Fuck, I can feel you getting close.” Yo accentuated his claim with a few harsh pumps, somehow going deeper than before. You arched your back at the sensation, earning a pleased look to creep across his face.

“P-please, Yo. I w-wanna―”

“What? You wanna cum, is that it?” He lowered his head back to your neck, pressing light kisses into it before ghosting his lips against the shell of your ear. “I don’t know if I should let you. Been such a bitch to me these past few months, you think you deserve it?”

As if to prove his point, Yo halted his movements, retracting the effects of his quirk. You squirmed beneath him, whimpering at the loss of stimulation.

“I should make you beg for it. How does that sound?” Tantalizingly slowly, he began lazily pushing his fingers back into your heat, dragging them against your sensitive walls while removing them just as steadily. He repeated the action, smirking down at the sight of you writhing against his touch―or the lack of it.

“Yeah, I think that’s what you deserve. Go on, beg for―”

Before he could finish his demand, a few loud knocks could be heard at the door of his dorm room.

“Yo! You in there buddy!?” The voice of a man you didn’t recognize bellowed out from the other side of the door. Your body froze at the sound.

The last thing you wanted was someone finding you in this position. The thought made your blood run cold, and you looked up at Yo to see if he was having the same idea.

From the look on his face, he definitely wasn’t.

Yo ripped the hand away that was pinning your wrists down to the bed, instead clamping it firmly across your mouth. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, grasping at his grip on your face.

“Yeah, what’s up man!”

As soon as he spoke an intense bout of vibrations crashed through your core. He returned to thrusting in and out of your sopping heat, not relenting even as you thrashed against his hold.

It was too much―his quirk now more powerful than ever. He continued to rub tight circles into your clit with almost the same level of vibrations, maybe a little less intense than the ones he was sending through you with his other fingers.

The man outside his dorm spoke again. “I was just wondering if you had the notes from last class. Me and a few guys need them right now.”

Yo spoke without breaking eye contact with you, relishing in the way you tried to control the little noises as a result of his relentless movements. The glint in his eyes that you once saw was gone, now replaced with an empty darkness.

This was the Yo who was being kept from the public. The person you did your best to avoid for so long.

“I do actually, I’m in the middle of something―why don’t I stop by your place in a few minutes?”

You tried to close your legs, or somehow move away as you were pushed towards release faster with every passing second. Yo only pressed your head back into the mattress with more force, acting more as a warning than a way to keep you in place.

“Okay, sounds good man. Hey―are you with someone right now?”

His methods were wreaking havoc on your body. The fear of being caught and the intensity of his actions sent you over the edge. As if sensing you were done for, Yo let out a final wave of forceful vibrations, sending you crashing hard into an orgasm. Your eyes shut tightly as you rode out the blinding sensation, body seizing up completely.

You didn’t know how long it lasted for, but by the time you finally came down from your high it seemed the investigative man on the other side of the door was gone.

Yo removed his fingers, holding them up to his face in awe. Through your tear stained vision you could catch the glistening of your slick, stringing as he pulled his fingers apart. You watched in disgust as he continued to lap at the substance, sucking his own digits clean with a sinfully low moan resonating from his throat in the process.

Focusing anywhere but at him was a better option, but he wouldn’t have that. As you tried to turn your head again with eyes trying to distract themselves on something that wasn’t the man towering above you, the hand over your mouth moved to clamp around your jaw.

“Fucking look at me.” Yo turned your head back harshly at the demand, and your eyes met his. The threatening tone in his voice was one you’d never heard before.

“I’m gonna go give my buddy what he needs, and you’re gonna stay here until I’m done.”

He waited a few seconds, gauging your initial reaction. Finally, Yo released his hold, climbing off the bed and letting you curl into yourself in defence.

“If you’re gone when I get back, I’ll tell everyone just how much of a little slut you are. And we both know they’ll believe me, I’m way more likeable than you’ll ever be, princess.”

A pitiful sob wracked your body, soon turning into steady convulsions from crying. “I-I’m not...m’not a s-slut.”

He grabbed a notebook that was sitting on his bookshelf before walking to the side of the bed where you were trying to move towards in an attempt to leave. He crouched down next you you, petting down the hair on your head in an almost loving manner, “Oh I know that, but your friends don’t. They might let you tag along with them but I know they don’t really like you. Not how they like me.”

At his point you were sobbing into your hands, trying to rub away at the hot tears streaming down your face. “D-don’t―please don’t tell them that.”

Yo swiped a thumb across your cheek, doing little to rid them of your tears. “I won’t, you just be a good girl and nothing bad will happen, okay?” He gave your face a few reassuring pats before retracting his hand.

You were a mess―clothes disheveled and hair turned unruly.

He was bluffing. He had to have been.

“Don’t move, I’ll be back as soon as possible!” Yo was exiting the room, giving your crumpled form a final once over before leaving, notes in tow without letting you get out another word of protest. The door shut with a thud, and you could hear the signature click of a lock falling into place.

You could leave. You should leave.

And you wanted to, but his words kept repeating in your head. If he wasn’t bluffing then you weren’t too sure if your friends would take your side. It wasn’t just your friends either. Your family would find out, your school even.

Yo was a well liked man. A trusted man. You trusted him.

He was so good at what he did. Hiding his true intentions under that far too positive and easy going attitude. It made it easy to disregard him, and look at what happened when you did.

You denied him the satisfaction of such a closeness for so long, not even knowing what it was doing to him. Realistically, it shouldn’t have done anything. Any sane person would’ve taken the hint long ago to leave well enough alone.

But the absence of light in his eyes, the condescending attitude―all of it was evidence to show that he was everything but sane.

He’d be back soon.

And you stayed where you were.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Lifetimes

Chapter 1

Description- Chris wakes you up at night to escape, or so you think. 

This one-shot is for the second weekly challenge set by @donutloverxo and her friends! For this week, the fic is inspired by the prompt - “Let’s get out of here.” Check out the list of prompts here

Warning - Horror, mutilation, Dark!Steve

PROCEED ONLY IF YOU ARE 18+!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You saw Chris' message flash across the screen- Still at the party. Will be late. Go to sleep baby. I will join you later 😉

Keeping the phone on the bedside table, you sighed. You were hoping to cuddle Chris as you slept, especially since the last few nights had been strange… to say the least.

Chris was the last person on earth to believe in paranormal activity, but you were sure something weird was going on in the house. It started with you spotting fleeting shadows across the rooms which made you feel uneasy. Then, lately, you had started feeling as if someone was dragging you away from Chris as you both slept together. One night, you swore you felt a hand creep up on your waist, pulling you towards the edge of the bed. At first, you had frozen with fear, but then, you had screamed and flailed your limbs, waking up Chris. Even though he had managed to calm you down, he had dismissed your concerns, simply stating, "It was a nightmare baby."

As you settled in for the night, you sent a silent prayer to the lord above to keep you safe till Chris' return. Closing your eyes, you hoped for sleep to come early.

...

"Honey," you heard the slightest whisper of your despised nickname, "wake up. We gotta go." You groan in response, your head still filled with sleep. "C'mon wake up. Let's go," urged your boyfriend's voice. 

"Chris can't this wait?" you grumbled, irritated. "No honey it can't," he whispered back. "Stop calling me that. You know I hate that nickname," you huffed waking up. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to find your mobile in the dim light of the room. As you reached for the light switch, Chris' pale, cold hand held yours, "We don't need the light."

"But I need my phone, and to find it I..." "You don't need your mobile," Chris interrupted you, "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his tone urgent.

"What's going on Chris? You sound upset," voicing your concern, you stood up, raising your hands as if to hug him. He jerked backwards, then headed for the door, "You were right. There's something unusual going on here. We have to escape. Now."

You noted the urgency in his voice as a dull, heavy weight settled in your stomach. Unwilling to further question him, you donned your jacket and followed him. 

Chris was already in the garage as you tried to keep up with him. Before you left the house, you heard the soft buzzing of your mobile from somewhere nearby. That's strange, you had kept your phone on the bedside table before going to sleep. Shuffling a few cushions around, you saw your mobile hidden deep in the crack between the sofa cushions. 

honk honk "C'MON! LET'S GO!" You jumped at Chris's loud exclamation. "But my phone…" you tried to tell him weakly. "FUCK YOUR GODDAMN PHONE. LET'S JUST FUCKING GET OUT OF HERE!"

Your entire body started shaking uncontrollably. You had seen Chris in bad moods, but none as hysterical as now. Luckily, your fingers pried the device free just in time as you heard his car door shut with a slam. 

Hiding the mobile in your pyjama pocket, you half ran, half stumbled towards the garage in the darkness. You could make out Chris' fuming outline next to the car as you tried to find the door he held open for you. Strangely enough, he wanted you to sit behind the driver's seat, instead of besides him as usual. But again, you chose not to question him.

The car's engine came to life as he started driving. After a while, you gathered enough courage to ask him, "Wh-what happened Chris?" He didn't reply, instead, he increased the speed of the car to almost 100/kmph.

You tried again, "Chris pl-please, tell me wh-what's going o-on? I-I am sc-scared... Pl-please." Still no reaction. Sobbing, you kept your hand on his shoulder, seeking comfort. With a soft gasp, you withdrew your hand as soon as it had touched him. Chris' shoulder was ice-cold. "Ch-chris?" "Shut-up and keep your head down," came the harsh command.

A warning bell rang at the back of your mind. Chris' voice sounded… different. It was strained, cracked, almost as if he was faking it. But this was your Chris, right? He seemed familiar. As you tried to see his reflection, his voice boomed in the car again, "I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN!!" You jumped on your seat, your heart beating in your throat as you followed his instruction, praying for this nightmare to end soon.

Long, agonising moments later, the car finally came to a stop. "Do you see the edge of that cliff? Go there and wait for me." You nodded and stepped out of the car. Before you could turn to take a look at him, Chris had already sped up ahead.

You pulled your jacket closer as you stepped towards the edge, the chilly midnight air nipping at your skin. You looked down, seeing nothing but the smooth stone of the cliff disappearing right beneath you. Glancing around the isolated mountain road, you hoped to catch a glimpse of Chris. Soon, you saw headlights facing the edge of the road. Clouds cleared in the sky and light from the full moon bounced off the asphalt road as you watched on. You could make out the faint outline of the car as it neared the edge, coming too close. Before you could utter a word, the car went over the threshold and down the cliff. The sound of crashing metal deafening in your ears. 

You placed a hand on your mouth, swallowing your scream, too afraid to make a sound in the still night.

The buzzing phone in your pocket demanded your attention. Maybe you could call for help? With trembling hands, you fished the device from your pocket, and saw Chris' face on the screen. Accepting the video call, your heart sank as you saw Chris, still at the party. "I am so so sorry babe! The party is still going on. I promise you I will come… Where are you babe? Why aren't you at home?" your boyfriend stared at you in confusion. "Ch-chris, he-help m-me," you stammered.

His eyes widened at your terrified state, "Baby where are you? Tell me. I will come and pick you up right now. Baby? Talk to me." 

"He-help," you could only manage between sobs. Even though your mind willed you to move, to speak, you were frozen on the spot. You knew it was too late.

"Honey?" That same cracked voice spoke, he spoke. 

"Who's that behind you? Baby talk to me. Who's tha… Holy fuck! Run y/n!! Y/N! Are you listening to me? RUN!"

He grabbed your phone and crushed it in his palm. Chris' last words hung in the air as you finally looked at your kidnapper.

His electric-blue eyes were wide with lunacy as the corner of his lips turned upwards in a sneer. The dirty blonde hair and muscular physique just added to his terrifying persona. But it was the gruesome, deep scar that ran across his sunken left cheek, that made your blood curdle with fear. 

Instinctively, you tried to take a step back, almost losing your balance at the edge of the cliff.

"Wh-who a-are…?" you tried to ask, but your trembling body failed you.

"Who am I? What am I doing here? What do I want? That's what you want to know right?" he asked in a mocking tone, shifting his weight from one leg to another, "WHO AM I? WHAT AM I DOING HERE? WHAT DO I WANT?!" 

You flinched as he suddenly raised his voice.

"Ooooooo you think I am unstable now don't you?!" his sing-song voice was back, "Eh? DON'T YOU?!!!"  

Tears spilled on your cheeks. You didn't want to die, not right now, not like this. 

"Aawww don't cry. Don't cry. Honey shouldn't cry. We love honey don't we? Don't cry. I SAID DON'T CRY!!" 

A squeak escaped your lips at the sudden change in his tone. 

"Centuries! It's been centuries now! Everytime I get the same reaction. Every. Fucking. Time! Do I deserve it? No! Never did. Look at this," he pointed towards the scar on his cheek, "You gave this to me in 1933. Same thing then. Didn't love me. Wanted me to leave. Honey forgets me every time. Every time," he said slowly, looking down, shaking his head.

1933? You weren't even born then. Bringing your jacket closer, you tried to control your sobs and reason with him. "I-I can g-get he-help for y-you. Pl-please mis-mister just let m-me g-go. I pr-promise I..."

"YOU PROMISE?!" his voice boomed, "You promised me immortality, and look where it got me!"

Bringing his fingers together, he slouched his shoulders and tried to imitate in a girlish voice, "Your Highness Steve, please trust me. Drink this elixir and you will become immortal forever. Think of all the kingdoms you can rule. You will be the sole emperor of the world! Noting will kill you! I promise."

Regaining his posture, he screamed at her, "I LOST EVERYTHING! MY KINGDOM, MY WEALTH, MY PEOPLE!! EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. THING! AND YOU," he held her by her throat, "You, my honey, had the privilege to die in every single lifetime."

You tried to feebly fight him as he tightened his grip on your throat and lifted you off the ground, "So now tell me, my Queen, my honey, can you make me mortal?"

Your eyes widened in response. "No? Hhmmm. I guessed as much," he tossed you aside as if suddenly uninterested, "Then it's time to join your ranks."

You tried to scurry away, but the sight in front of you stopped you dead in your tracks. You saw hands reaching above, from the other side of the cliff. Multiple sets of hands came into view as they gripped the edge of the cliff, with women hauling themselves onto the ground. These women were neither dead, nor alive, but all of them sported horrible injuries on their bodies. Some had their heads bashed in, others had their limbs cut off, a few were stabbed or shot, but all of them looked at you with fierce intensity. As they stumbled to form a circle around you and Steve, you realised that these women looked a lot like you, only they wore clothes from different eras in time. 

You felt numb, there was no way you would escape this. 

Looking at Steve, you tried to plead with him one last time, "I am so-sorry. Pl-please forgive me."

He laughed humorlessly, "You always end up apologising." 

Crouching besides you, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears, the action sending a chill up your spine. "I like your face in this lifetime, maybe I will keep it for myself… hhmmm… Must keep Honey's face for myself. All for us. Only for me…" He kept muttering to himself as he unsheathed his knife. 

To your horror, he cut a deep cut right before your ears and started peeling your skin with his knife. 

The full moon stood witness to your pain as you finally breathed your last, and joined the ranks.

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Chapter 2