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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

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You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes.

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message.

He was trying to find you out in this big world.

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening.

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone.

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream.

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day.

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling, sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too.

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope.

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing.

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around.

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world.

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting.

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality.

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows.

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit.

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you.

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad.

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up.

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before.

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit.

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right.

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled.

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes.

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took.

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that.

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew.

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red.

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other.

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys.

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

#Yoongi x reader #idol!yoongi x reader #idol!bts x reader #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga x reader #idol!suga x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #suga x y/n #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #yoongi soulmate au #bts shared dreams au #suga shared dreams au

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Nothing Fucks with My Baby

The (not so) long awaited Hitman AU 👀

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

TW Blood, minor violence, referenced/implied murder, stalking, implied kidnapping

Iwaizumi has one rule. No kids.

They could be the damn antichrist for all he cares, if they’re underage, they’re off limits. Anyone else is fair game - kind old ladies, rich corrupt businessmen, housewives, politicians. He doesn’t give a shit so long as he gets paid, and paid well.

You were fair game.

He never cares why. Iwa has better things to do than listen to meaningless justifications and vendettas. They make no difference either way - he’s being paid to kill, so he’ll kill, ruthlessly and without prejudice. All he wants is a name, a picture and whether or not they want brains splattered on pavement or something a little more refined. An address doesn’t go astray, but he’ll work with what he’s got, it’s the reason he can charge a fucking premium.

But you… you weren’t what he expected. He’s used to filth. Liars, cheaters, bottom of the barrel trash. Every once in a while some poor idiot gets caught up in something they don’t understand and ultimately pay the price for it, but good people don’t often end up in files splayed across Iwaizumi’s desk. He’s not used to innocence, and as far as he’s concerned, you’re as close as they come.

He supposes that things might have been different if they’d wanted you dead quickly.

Publicly.

But they didn’t want that. They wanted you to disappear without a fucking trace. It wasn’t a kindness - it just meant more work for him. It meant that instead of staring down the barrel of a sniper rifle perched in the window of an empty apartment across the street from yours, he’d have to get his hands dirty.

If you want somebody to blame, sweetheart, why don’t you start with them?

In hindsight, he probably didn’t need to go inside the little coffee joint you worked at. He could lie to himself and say that it was an excuse to get closer to you, to see if you had friends at your work who might try and get in the way, but the simple truth was that he’d been up since four in the fucking morning, and he might just have shot somebody out of sheer irritation if he didn’t get a hit of caffeine and soon.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

And it wasn’t like you were going to recognise him. Three days in, and as far as Iwa can tell, you don’t have the slightest idea that you were being watched, much less that the pair of eyes watching belonged to a cold hearted killer.

People tend to be a little more scared when they sense he’s coming - there’s a kind of innate fear that seeps from every pore as they scurry about trying to hide, trying to put off the inevitable - but you, you’re just blissfully oblivious, flitting around with those wide doe eyes like you haven’t got a damn care in the world.

He honestly doesn’t know whether he wants to envy or pity you for that sweet naivety.

Currently though, he’s more concerned with whether or not you can make a half decent cup of coffee.

“I asked for an extra hot latte.”

Or he would be, if the asshole with slicked back hair and an expensive suit hadn’t cut him off just as he was about to step up to the counter to shove the coffee you’d just made him back in your face. He watches your eyes widen for a split second before you smile - apologetic and demure before you can even open your mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it not hot enough?”

The moment the words leave your lips, you all but flinch. Both you and he know that despite the fact you mean them sincerely (which kind of surprises him, considering that if your situations were reversed he wouldn’t have been nearly so generous) they’re a mistake.

The asshole sneers down at you like you’re nothing more than scum on his shoes. “If it was fucking hot enough, I wouldn’t be wasting my time complaining, now would I?”

Even before he found himself dabbling in his current line of work, Iwaizumi never considered himself much of a knight in shining armour. The world’s a shitty place, it’s not his job to go around fixing things and softening blows. He’s not a cold, emotionless bastard, as most people assume, he just has better things to do than run around playing a damn bleeding heart and sticking his neck out for strangers. It’s not his problem and as far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t owe anybody shit.

Impassive olive eyes watch as you try and backtrack, apologising again, offering to make him a new drink, explaining that the reason the coffee wasn’t as hot as he wanted was because you were trying not to scorch the milk- for naught.

You in your naive little world don’t seem to realise that the asshole doesn’t actually give a shit about the coffee. He wants a power trip, and you’ve given him the perfect excuse. He wants to yell and scream and stamp his feet and take all of his repressed anger and feelings of inadequacy out on you so that he can feel like a big man. He wants to see you whimper and cry and bow down before him.

It’s pathetic, but Iwa’s content to watch it play out, drumming his fingers against the wallet in his hand, more irritated with the delay in getting his own coffee than the outburst itself-

Until the asshole reaches for his latte.

Iwa’s good at reading people, predicting their movements before they’re even made. It’s a necessary skill in his profession, one that’s saved his skin more times than he can count. He sees the little vein in the asshole’s temple throb, his jaw tighten, and the moment his hand twitches towards the still steaming cup of coffee, Iwa knows that he fully intends on throwing it at you.

He moves quicker than a man of his size has any right to, an iron grip wrapping around the asshole’s wrist, squeezing. He glares, sneering down at the man who all of a sudden doesn’t seem quite so angry, much less imposing.

“Get out,” he hisses.

It’s not a request.

But the asshole either has a death wish or he’s trying to salvage what’s left of his fragile ego, because his beady eyes narrow and he opens his mouth - no doubt to spew more vitriolic bullshit.

Iwa twists.

Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that it sends the man to his knees, whimpering like a kicked puppy, desperate to relieve the pressure on his wrist.

“I said,” he begins, his voice colder than ice, “get out.”

Yet he doesn’t spare the asshole another glance, not even as he releases his grip and the man skitters away like he’s been burned. The cafe is deathly silent, and without even glancing around, Iwa knows that they’ve managed to draw the attention of most if not all of its patrons.

And for once, he doesn’t give a single fuck.

Iwa’s eyes, his attention, all of it is focused entirely on you - on the wide eyed, stunned look on your pretty face. It’s a violent outburst, not nearly close to what he’s truly capable of, but in the quiet little cafe on a dreary Tuesday morning, glaringly out of place.

Will you burst into tears, he wonders. Ignore it, brush it aside and pretend it never happened? Stutter out more apologies for causing a fuss, for making a simple mistake? He somehow doubts you’ll be the type to scold him for it. No, you’re far too meek for that.

You surprise him, smiling slowly instead, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm.

It’s a far cry from the contrite air you’d graced the asshole with earlier. It’s hesitant, nervous, but it’s very much real, and Iwa finds it difficult to stop the corners of his own lips from twitching upwards in response.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

He inclines his head a fraction. “Don’t worry about it.”

You don’t charge him for the coffee, even when he practically shoves the bills across the counter into your hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shyly parrot back at him, and he almost fucking snorts when there’s a warmed chocolate chip muffin waiting with his coffee when it’s ready.

He’s being paid forty grand to make sure you’re dead by the end of the week, and you’re here giving him free muffins. Oikawa would see the humour in that. Of course, Oikawa would have absolutely no qualms in charming the absolute hell out of you seconds before he pulled the trigger. Realistically, he shouldn’t either. It’s his job, nothing personal.

To say he enjoys killing is probably a stretch, but he takes pride in it. Iwa’s good at what he does. It’s simple. Easy - so long as he follows his own rules.

This shouldn’t be any different. You’re cute, he supposes, in an odd sort of way. Innocent.

Endearing.

It shouldn’t have an effect on him.

It doesn’t, but-

He could have killed you two days ago. He’d be willing to bet good money that he could’ve walked right to your apartment, knocked on your door, made up some bullshit excuse on the spot and you would have smiled and invited him right inside.

And it’s not like you’d stand a chance of being able to fight him off.

Over the past few days there have been at least twelve different moments that Iwaizumi could have stepped in and snuffed that pretty little life of yours out without making a fuss and it would have been easy.

But he hadn’t.

There’s a difference between surveillance and stalking - it’s a fine line, a blurred one maybe, but it’s there all the same. After yet another night spent camped out watching you move about your apartment - cooking dinner for yourself, zoning out on the couch and fiddling with your phone while the tv plays in the background before finally curling up in bed in the early hours of the morning - Iwa comes to the realisation that he’s crossed it.

He wonders why it doesn’t bother him like it should.

The next day, he goes back to your little coffee shop. There’s no muffin this time, but your face brightens when he walks through the door and when he goes to pick up his coffee there’s a tiny, bite sized cookie sitting atop the lid.

“Don’t tell my boss,” you whisper, darting a glance back over your shoulder even as another pretty little smile graces your features.

Something unexpectedly warm and pleasant sings through his blood, and this time Iwa allows his own lips to twitch into the faintest hint of a grin in response.

You really are a truly awful judge of character.

Maybe that’s your downfall, that beautiful, naive innocence you just bleed. It’s a wonder that nobody’s come along to take advantage of you, especially when you are so very ripe for the taking.

Well, nobody until him, he supposes.

Iwa doesn’t know for certain why the men who want you dead do, he doesn’t particularly care either, but he does know that whatever their reasons are, it’s not enough.

Neither is forty thousand dollars.

It takes time, more than he’d like, to find the root of it all. It’s messy and he has to call in a few favours from old friends, but Iwa is nothing if not thorough.

He’s never particularly enjoyed killing, but there’s a certain satisfaction he gets from watching the light leave their desperate, pleading eyes knowing that he’s finally done his job. When he comes home, his shirt flecked with blood, his hands still dripping with it and coaxes your stricken, tear stained face up into a lingering kiss, Iwa feels content.

They wanted you to disappear entirely, he made sure that you did.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #yandere fic #my writing #tw stalking #tw blood #tw minor violence & implied murder

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sweetbunnykook · 4 years ago

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Only You (9)

Word Count: 13,197 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack), smut (period sex, cunnilungus, blowjob, throatpie, body worship, mommy kink), brief fluff, toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

A/N: If you are still reading this series, I wish you the best of luck. Please leave a review if you can and let me know your thoughts. - 🐰

You were every mother’s blessing – kind, caring, intelligent, obedient. She watched you stumble and fall many times but you manage to catch your footing with a smile. Despite your yearning for independence, your mother kept you in her embrace as all mothers do. In some ways, it would be loving; things like helping you choose the venue for your wedding and holding your hand while you inquire about using chiffon instead of silk for your veil. You were such a wonderful daughter that she didn’t wish for a son even when you decided to carve your own path rather than follow your father’s footsteps into medicine and entrepreneurship.

It’s why your mother sits in the parking lot of your apartment complex, dumbfounded beyond belief, teeth gritted. She looks up at your window to see Jungkook staring back down at her, unable to read him. She holds his steel hard gaze, daring him to look away or pull the curtains close.

He doesn’t take the bait.

Pulling the shifting gear and rolling out of the parking lot, she peels her eyes away and takes several deep breaths.

There is no way on God’s green Earth that you fell in love with a middle-class photographer. Of all people, of all the men in your circle, affluent men coming from money both new and old, you couldn’t have fallen for a lowly photographer who doesn’t care about you enough to know his place and leave you be. How could Jungkook not know that you aren’t meant to live like this? How could he be so selfish as to hope for marriage when he could barely afford the ring he wants to slip onto your finger?

Your mother throws back her head and cackles. The only reason you were able to study abroad during college, the only reason why you could walk into an upscale neighborhood and look like you belong there, is because she followed the natural way. She never loved your father, not even once, but he was a good husband and an even better financial asset. Not only did she not have to lift a finger after tying the knot, but she also became part of the untouchables.

There’s a sense of power and invincibility that comes with wealth. It comes softly, like a whisper of wind that keeps a dandelion intact; it’s invisible to the eyes but she can feel it when she shakes hands with politicians, celebrities, businessmen and women, important people doing important things.

It took nearly twenty years of work. Getting close to the Kims, making sure you attend the same school as their children, running into Namjoon when you visit their vacation home, and letting his parents witness what a great wife you would be for him – it was all going so well. Puberty treated you well enough too that she didn’t need to consider getting you minor cosmetic procedures when you graduated high school. Sure, you could lose a few more pounds, but you were healthy and fit to give the Kims, and her, the grandchildren who will guarantee a new generation of wealth and prosperity. Gone are the days when she could only dream about creating the perfect family, respected by the social circle and the general public. You, her lifelong project, made it all come true.

Yet, life proves to be cruel once again.

As soon as she set her eyes on Yori she knew she was trouble. She didn’t object when you stayed out later and wore a bit more makeup than what was deemed graceful for a woman of your age. She knew that if she’d raised her voice, you would be compelled to rebel (it didn’t help that you were as stubborn and thick-skinned as your father). However, she wanted to warn you, just a tiny bit, that Yori is the kind of girl whose eyes strayed to find a new target and you were a hair away from standing right in the middle of that mark. She knew, because Yori had the kind of eyes she had as a twenty-year-old woman who climbed that very same social ladder.

You were such a good daughter, so intelligent and transparent, that she believed you would have the backbone to come into your mother’s arms at the first sign of danger. It looks like you were just as clueless as the rest of the sheep you called your bridesmaids.

A Jeep honks from the next lane as she swerves into the street and bangs on the steering wheel with the heel of her hand, her Cartier bracelets clanking together in unity. The light turns yellow and she stomps on the accelerator, lurching the vehicle forward.

At the end of the day, she knew it was her fault. She could have warned you earlier, planted seeds of doubt in your mind, even pull Namjoon back into your arms if you realized soon enough; but alas, your day was chosen to be one of desolation and misfortune. Her poor daughter, the apple of her eye, the one precious gem of a person who would propel the family into royalty, whisked right away from under her nose.

She shakes her head, tires screaming as she veers into the next semi-busy lane, watching the sun disappear into the horizon as the familiar roads darken.

Letting you mourn on your own terms was the biggest mistake of her life, second to not following her gut feeling and keeping Yori away from you. She knew about this photographer lover of yours who has the face of an angel and seem to follow you like a puppy wherever you go. From a distance, she’d watched you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with such fervor in a public space she felt bile rise for the first time looking at you – her most precious creation acting like a hussy for all to see.

The boy seemed to be in love with you as much as you depended on him. She waited until you would be sick of him like the ones you took to bed after the wedding night (yes, she knew about your shameful conquests). She waited countless nights, praying that you would come to your senses, that you won’t refuse her advances, until months later she sees you living with him and sharing meals and completely forgetting about her. Yes, she had been mainly focused on making sure the investors haven’t pulled out and that you still had a name for yourself after the wedding. It wasn’t an ideal response as a mother because you needed help and she knew you’d throw a hissy fit but you must understand that while you had been taking men to bed, she had been busting her ass saving what’s left of the family pride.

The Kims also attempted to salvage your reputation, but they won’t do so at the cost of Namjoon’s name. The true reality is that parents will only care for their own blood in the end.

It’s why she finds herself confused and drenched with sweat when the car halts in front of the white villa lined with jasmine bushes. There’s a new gate installed, probably to keep away reporters during the first few weeks after the wedding incident hit the papers, and it momentarily angered her that she must now ask an intercom to enter a space that should have been a gift to you from the Kims.

Her hands tighten around the steering wheel with the intent to squeeze something warm and pulsing. She still remembered the day Yori knelt on the floor of your dressing room and she still remembered the strands of hair that squeezed her fingertips as she tore the whore’s flower hair clip off her head. The yelling, the panic, the uproar, the whispers that came from the guests – it was humiliation to the tenth degree.

Wiping the bead of sweat off her temples with the back of her hand, your mother hushes the engine and places the key in her coat. She steps out of the vehicle and marches up to the gate and buzzes in, huffing when her heels wobble on the cobblestone steps.

A few heartbeats later, Yori’s voice pours through her ears and reached into the crevices of her scalp like a dull headache.

“Hello?”

She leans forward. “It’s me.”

There’s a long pause before the gates click open and the stone stairway up to the front door reveals itself with a moist gleam. The garden sprinklers die down just as she steps onto the platform and makes her way up to the front door where Yori is leaning against, one hand on her stomach, the other hand tucking her fringe away from her face. She notes that the knitted silk dress, tied above the swell of her belly, is from the latest Prada collection.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she smiles. “Come in. Welcome to my home. I apologize for the mess…I had a baby shower earlier today and help is gone for the rest of the week.”

Your mother wanted to rip that smug grin off her face but she kept her eyebrows still and her lips soft.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

She walks into the spacious living room, eyes quickly glancing at the stacks of presents on the couch and the empty bottles of sparkling water and champagne sitting on the coffee table. She can recognize, just from the color of the boxes, that the gifts were not cheap. Had you married Namjoon, this would have been your palace.

“I’m in the middle of decorating the nursery. If you don’t mind…” Yori says, not bothering to look back as she makes her way up the stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to see that steam is coming out of your mother’s ears. “Can you help me with unrolling the mat in the hallway? I can’t bend over very well.”

Your mother trails behind in place of answering, watching Yori’s hip swing side to side as she makes her way up the stairs and then turn to leer down at the older woman. It’s a bit laughable, Yori thinks, as your mother pretends not to ogle at the stacks of Tiffany blue boxes tucked beside the living room couch like shoeboxes. Her face flushes when she meets Yori’s eyes once more but she doesn’t comment as she follows the young woman into the hallway just a few feet away from the stairs. Her head turns at the smell of fresh paint to see the nursery on her left, the door left open as if the room expected her arrival.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Yori fixes her fringe once more. “He needed to attend a conference in Ginza. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

“There’s no need.” She leers at the stacks of presents next to the crib. More aquamarine boxes, all neatly stacked according to size with the smallest at the top.

The younger woman leans against the tall, heavy vase next to the wall leading into the hallway to the East wing. “If you say so.”

There’s no reason for your mother to be here. It should be you instead, coming back to tie loose ends and perhaps inquire about Namjoon’s injuries if you cared enough. Compared to your mother, you didn’t have much of a backbone when it comes to relationships and it makes it so easy for men to take what they want and go. It’s what made you a bore, what gave Yori the power to pull Namjoon right into her bed and have him calling her name like a prayer.

“Did you forget basic manners?” Your mother finally snaps, beady eyes darting from side to side to admire the nursery that could have been a snapshot from a furniture magazine. “Not even offering a glass of water?”

Yori only smiles, motioning to the unrolled mat slumped against the wall, adjacent from the staircase.

“I assumed whatever you wanted say would be quick as you came uninvited. You’d probably think the water is poisoned even if I offered any way.”

The older woman glances at the rug – no doubt imported from Dubai with its elegant coloring and silk touch – then walks over to it before tracing her fingers around the rolled edges. She shouldn’t have accepted to do such demeaning housework but given how she pulled into the driveway unannounced and that the woman is heavily pregnant with no help around, it was only fair. She may have left behind her patience with Jungkook but not her manners.

“Why did you have to pick that day to tell her?”

Yori’s eyebrows raised just slightly before falling back down to its former position. She puts a hand over her stomach and walks towards the giant vase again, rubbing her fingers over the cool lacquered surface. Namjoon’s parents had a thing for porcelain she just couldn’t wrap her head around.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you wait until the marriage ceremony to tell her you were screwing her husband?”

“Husband?” She cocks her head to the side with an incredulous widening of her pupils. “Last time I checked he only had a fiancée he rarely saw who ran away with some pretty photographer the first chance she got. I’d say that’s far from married.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Answer the question,” she looks down, chin trembling. The world is falling apart, her dreams are nothing but a pebble in quicksand, and you no longer cared. “Please.”

Yori watches, in a way one watches a fly buzzing around a piece of fruit, the older woman bring her hands together in front of her like it has taken all her energy to ask such a question. Maybe for a moment she considers telling the woman the truth. She considers telling her that you broke her heart first, that you had the world succumbing to your every need, that your mother’s greed doesn’t only belong to her but you too because you made Seokjin your lap dog while Namjoon promised you a future. She considers telling her about the night she saw you laying like a swooning damsel in distress as Seokjin – the only man she had to beg for attention – suckle your tits like you were getting paid for it. She considers telling your mother that her daughter is the two-faced whore here, not her. She considers telling her that you touched what belonged to someone else first.

But what difference would it make? What would it change? The baby is still due in a handful of weeks, Namjoon is set to take over the company once he gets his shit together and his nose heals, and you’re perfectly happy with a new and exciting boyfriend of yours. The truth doesn’t set anyone free, it just makes sure the shackles aren’t too tight.

Yori turns her moist eyes away towards the living room downstairs. She walks over to the railing, resting her wrist on the copper before she stares down at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table with utmost disgust, as if she can still smell the overly sweet frosting with too much blue and pink dye. Catching her voice, she brings the smile back onto her face.

“I picked that day,” she turns her head, just slightly to catch your mother’s expression. “Just because I wanted to watch her look as pathetic as you do now.”

Your mother’s lips part, hands falling to her sides.

“It just happened. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s…all?”

Yori chuckles, her empty gaze falling back down to the cake. “That’s all.”

Years of planning, years of giving you the best education the country has to offer, years of making sure you never have to suffer as she had, years of shaking hands and kissing the ground the Kims walk on, only for this girl without new or old money to come and…

Before your mother can think, she lunges forward and grabs Yori by the ends of her hair, twisting the locks around her wrist as the younger woman gasps and shrieks. Her swollen stomach hits your mother’s side as she screeches and uses both hands to grab at her taught hair, pulling away to place as much distance she can. The heel of her ankle catches the edge of the first step and she watches the older woman’s eyes widen as she slams, back first, into the steps and then bounce off the next step as her jaw and skull slams into the copper pipe railing. Yori’s stomach hits the corners of the last several steps before the swell of her belly squeezes inwards, the final gurgling scream ripping out of her throat as her vision turns black and the house falls in silence.

It all happened so fast. Your mother watches with her hands over her ears, chest pounding and bracelets clattering as her limbs turn cold and her knees buckle.

Her eyes widen, more and more, as the pool of blood around Yori’s head expands until there lays maroon halo around her crown. She’s lying flat on her stomach and it takes another moment for the trembling woman to realize that, in the silence save for her own labored breathing, the bump is no longer there.

“Oh my god…”

Curling over to the side, your mother’s jaw falls open and the remnants of her early lunch spills over one of Yori’s shoes ledged between the railing and the first step. She empties her stomach until there is nothing left, her knuckles white as she grips the railing for support. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she descends down the staircase, back pressed against the wall and eyes darting from the body to the tinted windows with burgundy curtains tied to the side. When she reaches the body, she trips over Yori’s limp feet as she quickly dashes to the living room to draw the curtains close, her neck craning from side to side as she finds any opening where an imaginary eye might witness the ultimate sin. It was only when she finds herself in the kitchen, washing her hands that she realized she had, in fact, stolen two lives.

Yori, and the baby who never had the chance to see daylight.

…

You’re sitting in a bathroom stall, turning over the small flash drive between your fingers when you hear the clattering of heels against polished tile and the sound of handbags slumping on the counter. One of the women walks into the stall next to yours, undoing the tampon wrapper as if she were scouring for the winning lottery number written on the string.

“Did you see Jin with her again?” The woman outside of the stall says and you recognize her by voice. She works for the accounting department and regularly walks into your office for weekly reports.

“I was keeping an eye of him. It’s annoying that they work together now so he’s always all over her.”

No doubt this conversation is about you.

“Tell me about it. I bet they’re fucking, you saw how he looked at her.”

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” The toilet flushes and you can hear her shrugging her skirt back up to her thighs.

You hear a gasp. “Oh my god, you’re right. It’s that young guy who keep bringing her lunch, right? She didn’t break up with him?”

The stall opens and both women are in front of the counter. You’re stuck in your seat, not knowing whether to kick open the door or to interrupt the conversation but with Seokjin’s flash drive in your clammy hands, you struggle to even breathe.

“They’re still together. Looks like that photographer dick is too good to give up for the office hunk.”

They laugh like hyenas – that high, shrieking kind of laugh that makes their red lipstick bleed onto the corners of their mouths.

“They’re so out of her league. What do they even see in her? She’s painfully average. The only thing she’s got going on is a good wardrobe.”

You keep your head lowered when they walk past your stall as if they could see you. They pull on the paper towel lever until they can rip a generous piece and wipe their hands.

“She’s rich. She’s probably only working here because it keeps her humble or some bullshit like that. You know how girls with daddy’s money are, thinking they’re doing charity for working like the rest of us-”

You don’t hear the rest of their conversation, glad that your face no longer feels hot but you’re angered all the same. Jungkook’s visits, for this reason, had made you nervous in the beginning because you know they’ll talk and come up with their own little villain fantasy about you. It doesn’t bother you as you keep work separate from life (something Jungkook had been interrupting much to your discomfort) but hearing it in person ignited the kind of angry tears that has you cursing at yourself for letting yourself be disturbed by it.

You grab your handbag off the hook, place the flash drive back in your pocket, and unlock the stall before pushing the door open. You wash your hands in haste as the air had become suffocating in the aftermath of the two women. Wiping your wet hands down your black slacks, you let your wavy hair down and let it frame your face to hide your flushed cheeks, making sure that your eyes are no longer moist and your nose isn’t pink. What a way to end a workday.

When you arrive back at the office, most of your coworkers are gone except for the new interns organizing papers for tomorrow and the occasional workaholics making coffee in the makeshift cafeteria. You just hope you won’t run into the two women if they choose to swing by for whatever reason but, thankfully, it was never a common occurrence. They never did above the bare minimum any way.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you slump back down your office chair, squeezing your nose bridge as a wave of exhaustion wracks havoc in your pulsing head.

“There are some more sandwiches in the fridge, please help yourself if you’d like.” A student intern says as she carries a crumpled file under one arm, peering from above your divider.

“Oh!” You exclaim, your head darting towards the room Sora left in a mess before turning back to the girl. “Thank you, I’ll help myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gives a short nod before leaving, the glass door squeaking as the office once again is filled with the sound of coffee machines whirring and papers shredding.

The USB flash drive sits heavy in your pocket as you wave goodbye to the last person leaving your department with a cup of coffee. She nods, smiling, and pushes out the heavy glass door and you silently hope she won’t forget to return the mug before leaving the building. You listen to the clacking of her heels fading before turning back to the work computer still logged into your account. The saturated blue screen is harsh on your vision and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut, turning to look at the clock on the wall momentarily to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook can call at any minute as your shift is coming to an end.

Maybe it would be easier to do this with your phone turned off but knowing him, he would worry enough to drive over to make sure you’re safe.

Within the gray walls that surround your cubicle, you should feel secure. Yet, some part of you wonders if he would suddenly appear behind you and wrap you in his arms before asking you what you’re up to. In this nightmare of a scenario, you can also feel the antagonizing gaze of the two women.

Looking back down at the USB, you’ve come to realize that you have bigger things to worry about. Some part of you feels just as disgusting as a cheater taking off her ring in the presence of another man.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

You’ve rehearsed the same mantra in your head at least a hundred times within the same hour (before you had the unfortunate chance to overhear that unpleasant conversation) and it sickens you that this is a phrase that Namjoon would have used to justify his time with Yori. It’s a cheater’s mentality – a cowardly way of shifting responsibility away from themselves without considering the consequences when the truth comes to light.

With a sigh, you pull the flash drive out of your pocket and flip the black casing open until the lid hangs off its hinges to reveal the silver end. You look around once more, taking a deep breath, and push the end into the appropriate slot of the system unit. The USB flashes a neon green light, pulsing as it loads, before it dims and a small ping pulls your attention back to the screen.

The file explorer window expands, showing a ZIP file among an array of photos that had you squinting to observe. You jolt straight from the seat as your phone rings. Cursing under your breath as you note an incoming call. You’re just about to turn back to the screen when you recognize that the number flashing across your screen isn’t Jungkook’s but your mother’s. She never called at this time and if she did, she would have texted you first to make sure you weren’t in a meeting.

Just as you reach for the phone, it stops ringing and you contemplate turning it off. But something tells you you should have taken the call. When the phone rings again, causing you to flinch, you let it vibrate twice before swiping across the screen.

In exactly five minutes, you will regret ever picking up the call. In ten minutes, you’re running for your life.

…

Jungkook paces back and forth with his thumb between his teeth. If he bit his nails any shorter, he would pierce through skin. Your voice still rings in his ear as you cry into the phone, your tires screaming through the speaker as you speed through the streets back to the apartment. He’s sick with worry, wondering if you crashed into a tree of if you decided – on a whim – to handle this situation yourself. Because you called him immediately after you left work, he has a feeling you wouldn’t do anything stupid but today has been especially unpredictable.

First, your mother coming to meet him. Second, the same woman pushing Yori down the stairs and threatening you to take care of it. If he’d heard you correctly, the old wench even mentioned she would make his life a living hell if you don’t head over immediately. Some mother you are. It pisses him off to no end that you had to live with her for half of your life but it makes him even more upset that you’ve been hiding your mother’s behavior, throwing excuses about how much she worries when she’d call in the mornings and leave voicemails that you delete without listening.

He changes into a pair of jeans and an old university sweatshirt that is a bit too tight on the cuffs. When he hears the sound of your heels clack on the other side of the door, he barely had the time to wrap his head around such a God-given opportunity.

As soon as the door swings open you’re falling into his arms, wracked with sobs as he engulfs your entire torso in his arms. He presses your head further below his neck, reaching behind you to grab his coat off the hanger and wrap it around you before kicking the door close in case a neighbor passes by. You can’t bear to lift your head, trembling as your teeth chatter and your pupils are wide with fear. He’s never seen you like this – not even during the wedding night – and it makes his insides squeeze as if someone had reached in him and pressed a hand against his organs.

“I-I don’t know w-” you sob, “I don’t know w-what to do. I can’t breathe. Jungkook-”

He hushes you softly, threading his fingers through your hair with his thumbs curling around your ear. He tilts your head up towards his gaze, watching your tears trail down your face and onto the coat. Between gasps, you’re wailing, your throat tightened to the point that even his name sounds like nails on chalkboard on your lips.

“Noona, you have to breathe for me. Inhale,” he brings air into his nostrils as demonstration, “and exhale. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, swallowing first before you mimic and close your eyes. Jungkook brings a hand up to your chest, digging underneath the coat to feel it pounding against your ribcage.

“Keep breathing, noona. It’s going to be okay, keep breathing.” He rubs his warm palm over the chiffon and you find yourself leaning your forehead against his chest in exhaustion.

You wish you could stay in his embrace forever. Locked inside this warm and unassuming apartment, away from your mother, away from the past that has now resurfaced in the worst way imaginable – you wish you can curl into his arms and never leave. That…or you just want the world to swallow you in a deep well and leave you to starve.

“We have to tell the police.” You tremble. You can’t imagine the repercussions, not to mention the heartache of seeing your mother behind bars. She’d rather hang herself than end up in prison, you know that much. You’d sworn to your father before his passing that you’d keep her safe and you’re already thinking of running away.

“Noona…”

“We do. We…I have to. I-I mean it was an accident,” you’re suddenly peeling yourself away from him, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “They’ll give her m-maybe three or four years at most, right? If it was an accident it won’t be…”

Jungkook comes up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing up and down. You’re shaking again, tears streaming even quicker than before and the nausea is causing you to falter from side to side.

“Kookie, I don’t know what to do. Please tell me what to do, I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.”

He places his forehead against the crown of your head, staring into the distance. You feel his fingers tighten around your arm before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his weight upon your collarbones.

“Do you trust me, noona?” He whispers.

The fridge hums in the distance. You nod.

“Yes…I trust you. With my life.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your body, slowly, as if you were anticipating a monster and not a man, until you can look up at his face. He’s rubs his thumbs over your tears and moves down to your chapped lips, swollen and pink from your incessant gnawing. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale, keeping your eyes locked onto his loving eyes. He looks so angelic under the kitchen lights, the yellow bulbs blurred by the moisture in your eyes to form a halo around his long fringe. His hair is parted in the middle to form a curtain around his structured face, casting a shadow over his eyes in the semi-darkness. You can’t see him clearly with the lights behind him but you can sense his confidence, his reassuring grip on your cheeks; he’s no longer the boy from the night before but a man who is willing to keep the promise he made to you.

“I can help you.” He whispers softly once more, his voice lowered. “If you take me to the body…I can help you, noona.”

He holds your gaze, his thumbs still rubbing softly over your cheeks as if to coax the words into your skin. The implication isn’t lost on you but your body reacts first, fingers shaking as a fresh wave of sweat prickles down your back.

“W-What do you…” you trail off as your breathing grows heavy. Jungkook puts a hand on your chest once more as he did before, rubbing softly over your chest to calm your pounding heart.

He holds you close, breathing in your skin once more as his own eyes sting with unshed tears. Fate is a terrible thing and for every moment of bliss with you, he must pay the price; except, this price is a new opportunity to secure you by his side and earn your mother’s silent approval. It’s okay, Jungkook thinks, he can do this for you. He has the resources, the will, the strength, the plans – the only thing he can’t predict is your mental well-being in the aftermath.

Will you lose respect for him? Will you still love him? One thing he was sure of was that this was the only chance to keep your mother from arranging a marriage partner for you. He must go through it to not only save your sanity, your mother, but your answer when he puts one knee on the ground and opens the velvet box he keeps on top of the fridge for the perfect time. Oh how the universe responded so quickly to the day’s worries.

“Back then…when you said you would…”

Kill

“…You would do that for me. You really meant it, baby?”

Jungkook brings your head back under his chin and keeps you there, rocking from side to side as if to lull you to sleep.

“I meant every word. I’m not afraid, noona, not if it means I can protect you and your family.” His eyes darken as he tangles his fingers into your hair, twirling the ends of your waves between his fingers. “You love me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then I need you to listen to me.”

With great reluctance, he pulls you away and holds your palm in both of his larger hands. Your eyes are closed, whether from fatigue or concentration he doesn’t know until your brows scrunch when he speaks.

“Call your mother when I tell you to and tell her you’re on your way over. If she asks why you didn’t answer her previous calls, tell her you had an emergency at work. Reassure her and make sure she doesn’t touch anything more than she’s probably already touched by now. Don’t mention that I’m coming with you, understand? She might panic and bring attention to herself if there’s any witnesses.”

You nod continuously, creating a mental checklist. Call, inform, excuse, reassure, move.

“And noona?”

You look back up into his eyes.

“You…you won’t hate me after tonight…would you?”

How could you fathom it? With his warm, sincere stare and willingness to walk to the ends of earth for someone as plain and unlovable as you, you should be on your knees worshipping him. You don’t understand how he can think of you hating him when he had so willingly put his entire life at risk without reluctance. You aren’t asking him to fetch a forgotten carton of milk at the corner store. You’re asking him to clean up the mess your mother made, a mess that can tear your entire world apart, a mess that has nothing to do with your boyfriend who has no boundaries to prove his devotion.

You shake your head. “I could never,” you breathe.

You hold him this time, letting his body bow towards your trembling figure as he breathes in the scent of sweat and perfume on your neck. You give him a moment of peace. You wanted him to remember this touch as after this night is over, you don’t know if you’ll be the same person. You don’t know if he’ll be either.

He goes over the plan once more and leads you to his car. When Jungkook straps you into the passenger seat and turns the ignition key, you curl your fingers around your shaking knees. He notices your anxiety and takes the closest hand in his before letting your palm rest over the gear shift. He places his own hand on top of yours, gripping tightly when he shifts and maneuvers the car out of the parking lot and onto the road before unclenching.

The sky is pitch black and the moon stalks from behind. You count every tree, read every sign, tense at every sign of a police car passing by, and sniffle when your burning eyes refuse to calm. You don’t register where you are until Jungkook lets go of your hand on the shifting gear and undo his seatbelt. You’re inside the garage of his studio, surrounded by wires, cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and office supplies. When you grasp his arm, letting out a small cry, he hushes you instantly, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“I’ll be quick, noona. I just need to get some things, okay? I’ll be right there-” he points to the very back of the car – “in view.”

You swallow, nodding before uncurling your grip from his arm.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint for Jungkook not to coo at your desperation. He missed this dependency of yours (he had only seen it during the wedding night and the necklace argument) and for once he wonders if he went a bit too far with his role as the sweet and needy boyfriend. He’s not acting in a way that he doesn’t want to but he is guilty of dramatizing some of his pleas and affectionate touches. He knows, in his head, that he is a man. He’s stronger, taller, capable of committing a crime and not just cleaning its aftermath, and will eventually be the father of your children. He’ll tug his collar open to expose his vulnerabilities, but he will show you his strength too. Tonight is a blessing from the universe that will, finally, keep you where you belong: at his side, looking at him, and needing only him.

You watch as Jungkook swings open the trunk of his car and load three large plastic bins and pile photography equipment – tripods, developer fluids, camera bags, lighting equipment, and even a small monitor. And then you see the last box of supplies: rope, black plastic bags, gloves, masks, bleach, towels, and tape. When his eyes meet yours, he flashes you a small smile between his labored breaths, the kind you’re used to seeing after you make love to him and he’s spent, sprawled on the sheets with an arm over his perspired forehead. The car jolts slightly as pushes the back door shut and hop back into the driver seat, adjusting the temperature in the car, muttering something under his breath, and latching his seat belt back on.

He keeps both hands on the wheel. “Noona…make the call now.”

You’re frozen, hands clasped together on your lap.

“Kookie…”

You’re having doubts. He can see it in the way you can’t even bear to look at him. He digs through your pocket and presses your cell phone on your lap. When the lockscreen awakens to the photo of you two, you feel your heart anchor to the bottom of your stomach.

“I-I can’t do it.” You shake your head. “We have to go to the police. I can’t live without you, I can’t live without mom, we’ll get caught and I-” You press your hands to your face, your hoarse sobs lodged deep in your throat before it rips from your chest in the kind of wailing that makes Jungkook’s own heart squeeze. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Yori either e-even if it means my family…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

He sees himself in you. He sees himself as the teen boy who let Taehyung drag his scalpel across his father, then his mother, before encouraging him to give it a try. You’re a virgin. Even if tonight worked out perfectly according to his plans, you’d still be a crime virgin. It was your mother who pushed Yori, not you. Knowing how empathetic you are, how tender you are, it might as well be you who pushed the woman down the stairs. He knows your fear all too well and he knows just how quick your hummingbird heartbeat is underneath his coat that you’re wearing. You’re just like him.

“You’re beautiful, noona.” He places a palm over your clasped hands and brings his other hand up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ears and strumming your cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“No one deserves your kindness. It fucking upsets me,” he swallows, allowing his eyes to water, “that even a mother will take advantage of that kindness.”

You sob into his hand, leaning your temple against the head rest. He’s right. How many times have your mother, before Jungkook came into your life, morphed you into something you’re not? The days you spent trying to please her, comparing yourself to other children she would complement to get a reaction out of you, letting yourself be a pawn for when she wanted something from your father that either required money or the right handshake. You still love her above all because she’s your mother but there’s no denying how much it still touches every part of your life from your relationships to your career. Moving away from her and letting her fade into the background was a true feat and it pains you that all that effort crumbled away and you’re left in a bigger mess to clean than before. If only you hadn’t taken the fucking call.

Maybe this was your fault. Maybe, if you hadn’t been such a hard-headed person, she would never had driven over to Yori’s place and none of this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have to get Jungkook involved either, as willing as he is.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Jungkook slouches back into his seat, putting his hands back onto the steering wheel. “Don’t you, noona?”

You nod, keeping your head lowered.

“Then be good for me and call. I’ll take care of you and I’ll take care of everything else. I’ve never broken that promise, not now, not ever.”

Jungkook hopes that’ll work. He’s rather annoyed but not at you, never at you. Why couldn’t she tumble down those stairs too instead of giving you such unnecessary stress? This kind of stain would be terrible for the baby had you been pregnant. It’s tearing him apart watching how different you are now compared to this morning, leaving the apartment in comfort only to come falling into his arms in tears. He came to the conclusion that you’re simply too pure for the world.

Oh how romantic tonight would be if you were honest with yourself all along. Claiming to loathe your mother with the strength of a thousand suns only to act like this when she shows up with baggage. Jungkook can’t blame you for you shared a majority of your life with the wench, but he finds it exasperating that you can’t see how little of your pity people like her deserve. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t be the love of his life if you weren’t so sensitive and caring.

It was with great relief that you mustered the courage to swipe across the phone screen and type your mother’s number.

He clicks open the garage door and the vehicle begins to descend down the elevated lot.

“M-mom? I’m on my way now…c-can you tell me where you are? It’ll be okay…I know mom, I-I’ll be there soon��”

…

You feel eerily calm as Jungkook drives past your mother’s car parked in the front of the gate to circle around the perimeter of the fence. He doesn’t recognize the new gate but he’d climbed over the old ones many times to watch you on the balcony. The metal may have changed but the level of security should be the same given that the villas are built a good distance apart between trees and the residents – people with mostly new money – keep to themselves. Lodged between a large tree and a partial opening in the back gate that is no doubt left ajar by your mother, Jungkook step out of the vehicle and press the door close before coming over to your side.

He’s relieved that you’re no longer in tears but your hands are still freezing cold despite the heat turned to the max inside. Your eyes are wandering and your breaths are labored as you press your body close to Jungkook’s.

Your mother is waiting near the door, her head poking out just slightly in the darkness and you can see the familiar row of bracelets on her wrist. She seems to have aged several years in just the last few months and the reason for her demise is standing next to you.

“Are you insane?” She seethes as she pulls you by the arm into the dark house and keep her eyes on Jungkook whose gaze bore into her skull. “How could you bring another-”

Jungkook barely had the time to secure your grip on his arm when you gasp, flinching back to hit the chess table next to where he’s standing when you see Yori’s pale arm stretched out from beneath a mat. The deep crimson shade of blood had congealed on the marble, partially smudged by the mat above her weighing her corpse down. Deep inside you had hoped that at least the baby could be saved, by some miracle, but the damage is far too great. Accident or not, a police officer finding this scene would not consider a light sentence if you mother decided to confess.

The older woman’s jaw is clenched, no doubt suppressing the panic she too feels hammering inside her as you hang off of Jungkook arm, trembling still. She looks up to your boyfriend and finds herself jolting awake when his eyes are peering down at her. He looks kind, sympathetic, soft, as if he is still sitting across her on your couch, eager to prove that he can be the son-in-law she’s been looking for all along.

“You should head home for the night. I’ll handle the rest.”

She scratches at her bracelets, her nails tugging the gold free from her skin. “B-But…where are you taking her? Anyone will find it if she’s buried in the yard.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer the question.

“Please go home and make sure there are no witnesses. I know you didn’t inform anyone before coming here,” he turns his head towards the body, “so go home as if you were never here. I promise I’ll take care of it.”

It’s evident the older woman is relieved by the way her shoulders slump but her gaze is still firm as she measures her trust into the young man who is in full control of your heart. Your eyes are still on the body when your mother takes your hands in hers and gives a squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” she croaks. She knew she gave birth to such a dependable, obedient daughter. You’re every mother’s dream and she makes a mental note to come back to your apartment with more boxes of food and perhaps make amends. There are far too many misunderstandings and miscommunication; it’s no way for a mother and child to live.

However, when you rip your hands away and take Jungkook’s hand in yours, her face crumbles.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” You hiss, your voice straining. You’ve never spoken to her like this and didn’t think about doing so until you saw the body, the mess your boyfriend has to clean. “You did this to us.”

“Wh-”

“Leave me alone. Please, mom. Get out of here, okay?” Your eyes glisten and you wipe away the droplets before they have the chance to fall. “It’s…we’re putting our lives on the line for you. It’s the least you can do now…so please…”

Between your pleas and Jungkook’s silence, your mother bites the inside of her cheek from saying anything more and turns back the way you came in. You watch her figure recede into the darkness, her shoes clacking softly on the cobblestone path. She turns back to look at you before the door closes and for once, you earn the most genuine apology you’ve ever received and this time she didn’t even need to open her mouth.

When the door falls back into place, Jungkook gives your shoulders a comforting rub and leads you towards the staircase, reminding you to breathe. He feels a bit more relieved that your mother didn’t raise too much of a ruckus. How could she when he’s the one getting his hands dirty? It’s what the perfect son-in-law will do and after this night is over, he’ll no longer have doubts about her approval. She wouldn’t have a valid argument anyway – not when he had just proved that he’s willing to go to the ends of Earth for your family and stability.

You’re too cute, Jungkook thinks, as you breathe through your nose and exhale through your lips. You’re a mirror image of his virgin self coated in blood, panicked but euphoric, angered but more than relieved to be rid of the parasites that kept him in the sewers.

“H-how are we going to do this?” You breathe, looking up the stairs as if you were expecting Namjoon to be standing there.

“I’ll handle the body. You can help me wipe down the stairs, okay?”

And handle it he did. He first fetched the supplies from the car, making sure once more that there are no witnesses while also keeping you within sight. Even without a severe puncture wound, Yori made quite a mess.

The terror didn’t come from seeing your former friend of years lay in a puddle of her own secretions. Nor did it come from seeing how calm and collected your boyfriend is peering down at the body with something akin to annoyance. No, terror came from how easily your mind and body adapted to helping Jungkook. You had no more tears left to shed when he lifted the mat from the body and placed a plastic covering next to her before rolling her body onto it. The sheet rustles beneath her weight and the stench of iron and urine fills your nostrils, prompting you to place your gloved hand over your nose.

Jungkook seems to know just what to do. He orders for you to wipe the railings first, which you do so with the slowness of a snail climbing a brick wall. The smell of bleach kept the nausea at bay and prompted you to focus on the smaller tasks because you can feel your heart already beginning to race with the sound of your boyfriend dragging Yori by the feet to straighten her posture. When you risked a glance back, you catch yourself feeling irked by the way Jungkook places her fingers so tenderly on her flattened stomach. Even when he’s wearing gloves, you catch yourself glaring at his touch on her skin, at the way his fingers brush over the ring on her finger. It makes you clench your jaw harder, pour more bleach onto the staircase, and wipe down each step with vigor.

She’s dead, she can’t take him from you.

You spray the bleach onto the top step, scrubbing with the heel of your palm as your shoulder fights through aches and pressure. You can do this. If Jungkook kept his promise, you must too. You will never find another man who will devote his entire life to you and for that you must not be too forgiving to those who don’t deserve your kindness, not this time.

All your life it’s one person after another coming to take what they want and leave. This is your lesson to finally take yourself back from them all, to come to terms with how much you gave and how little you received, see that Jungkook was the catalyst you desperately needed. It was no coincidence that when the elevator doors opened that very night of your wedding, he was the person standing in front of you. He was meant to be there holding your shoes as he rescues you away from those who would eventually suck the life out of you. He’s not someone you should be afraid of – no – because he’s your savior.

When you turn back again, Jungkook is slipping Yori’s legs into a large, black plastic bag identical to the one she’s laying on. He uses the bag beneath her to fight friction as he slides her body forward, careful not to bend her body before the duct tape comes into play.

And suddenly, your shoulder doesn’t ache anymore. Your heartbeat slows as you take another deep breath, this time through your lips, and watch his shoulders hunch over and forearm veins protrude.

“Kookie?”

He looks up, hair damp with sweat as it falls over his eyes. The lights from the front lawn, as it filter through dark maroon curtains, casts a red glow on your lover’s skin. When he meets your eyes he’s filled with glee, seeing that you’re no longer panicking and your eyes are clouded with a kind of protective apathy that lets him know you’ve gotten stronger. You’re dipping a toe into his world.

“Yes, noona?” He huffs, straightening his spine and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Nothing will happen to us after tonight…right?”

He physically melts at your saccharine voice. You’re worried about him, about whether he’ll still want you after this and if he’ll want you forever. “Of course not, noona. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to rest?” He asks if he hadn’t been the one packing the corpse into a bag.

You shake your head with a sniffle. “…I’m fine.” You’re not sure what to say, so you rub the cleaning cloth between your fingers and shy away from his eyes. “J just wanted to hear you say that.”

A smile spreads across his face, slow but bright as if he had just heard the most amazing thing. You can’t smile back and instead focus back on the floors and the last few inches of the railing.

You make sure to wipe the decorations nearby, in case your mother left any fingerprints on the lacquered surfaces. She can be rather careless in dire situations. You’re lifting yourself off the floor when something catches your eye: a large crib with layers and layers of blankets and fuzzy cloud and star plushies.

“What kind of bedtime stories should we tell our kids?”

Namjoon puts his head on your lap, sighing in relief when his neck is elevated at just the right position to depressurize the knot.

“What about myths? About the constellations and such.”

You giggle, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that a little too mature for babies?”

When he doesn’t answer, you wave you hand in front of his eyes. He squints, chuckling. So this is what marriage life is going to be like – he can get used to it. “You’re right, that is a bit too much. Then…hm…they’ll learn about the types of clouds in the sky and we can go from there.”

“Joonie, I love you, but don’t come crying when our kids prefer mama’s stories over papa’s boring myths and random science facts.”

“We’ll see when we get to that point. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

Asshole.

A fucking good-for-nothing lying asshole.

Gifting the same toys he promised to give to your future children to the same bitch who ruined your life, your family, and your sanity; they deserved each other, you think, and they both deserve to disappear as if they had never existed. The unborn baby inside Yori is innocent but a part of you is elated that he’ll never experience the kind of fatherhood he wanted. You silently wished Namjoon would tumble down the very same staircase you cleaned and joined Yori in a happy couple’s embrace to…

“Kookie?” You call out to your boyfriend who had duct taped the body in a semi-mummified state and used a shibari knot with his jute rope for easy carrying. He’d dragged the body next to the railing and leaned it against one of the stair planks in an upright position so that after he inspects the house for any evidence, he can bring the corpse easily over his shoulder.

“Yes, noona?”

“Where are we going to bury her?”

Jungkook wets his lips. He can’t possibly tell you the process of disposing a body or else you’ll surely fall back into panic so he gives you the simplest answer he can. “I’ll have to keep her body in the freezer in my studio. I’ll look for a place to burn it soon.”

You nod, swallowing as your throat tightens uncomfortably once more. The waves of anxiety come and goes. Jungkook knows how you’re feeling all too well and he wishes he could just hold you in your arms until tomorrow comes. Much to his distain, he knows you’re partly living your fantasy of making Yori pay for her involvement with Namjoon. You no longer love the man but anyone in your shoes wouldn’t deny there is a sense of satisfaction in seeking vengeance after a lifetime of humiliation that dampened your reputation in both your personal and professional sphere. Jungkook prays that getting rid of Yori will eliminate your mind of their presence although he highly doubts it; you’re not always rainbows and flowers. It’s only natural for you to be curious about taking another life when anger consumes logic. Most of these thoughts are fleeting ,which is why you had surprised Jungkook by your composure. He expected screaming at the very least but all you could do was cry.

He understands.

After he watched the life drain out of his parents, Taehyung had watched him cry for the longest time and when the next day came, it was like the world had turned its back while he washed the blood off his hands. The anxiety was terrible – at least for the first month or two – and then it was as if nothing had happened.

Like he learned before and like you’re learning now, it didn’t take much to get rid of a person. Over time, it just became muscle memory, kind of like making your morning coffee half-asleep. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of the power, he wonders how you’ll cope. Will you fall into despair and regret it all in the morning? Will you be hungry for more? How will you return his most tiresome display of affection? These are questions he can’t answer. But what he does know is that you finally understand what love is in his world.

Love isn’t just about a ring on the finger or a baby in the crib. Love has to hurt. It has to infest your dreams and turn them into nightmares, wreak havoc on your heart, rip off the magnet in your moral compass. It’s why the human heart is caged behind ribs – it can hardly be tamed.

…

As the car lurches behind trees and between unpaved roads, Jungkook notifies your mother about what to do next. It would not raise suspicion for her to leave the country for a few weeks, especially since she had been traveling to speak to investors abroad. It would take some of the burden off his shoulders too; your mother is a cunning woman who fears losing money more than losing you so he had no trouble alluding to her demise if she disobeys. While you look away, he quickly sends a notification to Jimin to make sure the older man will take care of the rest. When he receives an immediate response back, his shoulders slump in relief and he pockets the phone back into his jeans.

When he takes your hand in his again, the other gripping the wheel, you give him the smallest of smiles through the silence.

Three is a crowd. The body folded and hidden in the rear space between his photography equipment makes your head turn every now and then to make sure it doesn’t escape somehow. You’re exhausted beyond belief but Jungkook is here, his palm over your hand on the shifting gear once more, to keep you grounded. The night feels like it might go on forever.

The streets pass by in a blur – nightlife still alive and pulsing with neon signs – and there’s a kind of peace enclosed in the car that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook has always been and will always be there for you. Whether to take you from somewhere or bring you to some place, he’s the only person in your life left that you could depend on. As he expertly drives through tight alleyways where gas station surveillance cameras can’t reach him, you’re dozing off with your head against the window.

“We’re almost there.” He says while running his thumb over your knuckles. There’s blood on his shirt and your neck but you’re too tired to care.

You awaken with a gasp when Jungkook swings the door open; he had been careful not to wake you but you feel enough residual adrenaline to jolt awake at the smallest of sounds. It takes a moment for you to recognize the inside of his garage, the bright LED lightbulb hanging above causing you to squint as your eyes adjust.

Unaware that you’re awake, Jungkook quickly moves to the rear of the car and swing Yori’s body over his shoulders, tightening the ropes around where her neck and feet are to secure his grip. He carries the wrapped body towards the door next to the shelves and kicks it open to reveal several more stocked shelves before coming to a halt at the buzzing freezer. With a free hand, he lifts the lid open and removes several bags of seafood and miscellaneous food items you can’t quite make out before rolling the body inside the interior. He places the bags on top of the body and latches the freezer shut, securing it with a combination lock from one of his bins.

When he steps back and shut the storage door before turning, he’s surprised to see you standing in the doorway, your hair a mess, his coat hanging loose off one shoulder.

“Do you remember the night after you took my engagement photos? The ones at that same house?”

His brows scrunch slightly in confusion as he nods. There’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks as you breath in and out from your lips, a puff forming in the chill of the garage. You’re half-asleep, the exhaustion resting well deep in your bones but you can’t bring yourself to find your way towards his bed.

“I left my bedroom door open for you. I-I watched you from the balcony and waited for you to come back.”

Jungkook’s lips part, something foreign stirring in his stomach as the coat weighs down your shoulders and you don’t stop it from sliding down your arms, letting it pool around your feet. You don’t know why you wanted to confess but it felt right. It felt right to confess to something that isn’t about being an accessory in a crime.

“Why didn’t you say anything, noona?”

You close the distance, putting both of your hands on his chest, over the blood stains on the university sweatshirt. He exhales loudly when you bring him down to your level by a tug of his collar, your lips just a mere centimeter apart.

“Because I wanted you then just as much as I want you now.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between your lips, slamming your body onto the car behind you as he brings one of your legs over his waist to press himself against your heat. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck and he listens to your squeal as he lifts you fully off the ground and lets you wrap both your legs around him this time. You break the kiss and pepper sweet kisses over the mole on his neck and the smears of dried blood that caked onto his sweatshirt.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, moving your head to the other side of his neck to suckle on his warm skin and feel his pulse through the jugular.

Jungkook quickly throws open the door to the studio and steps into the darkness, his memory allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom without his eyes adjusting. Your eyes burn once more when he reaches behind you to shut the bathroom door close and turn on the yellowed lights with the back of his elbow. When your face comes into view, he sits you on the counter next to the sink and pushes his tongue back in your mouth, your name leaving his lips with a whimper.

He’s terribly hard against your thighs, his length straining through his jeans. You tug him forward by the belt as you break the kiss once more and let him rip open your blood and bleach-stained blouse.

“God, you’re so beautiful, noona. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

He moans as you press the heel of your feet up his erection, his voice muffled by skin filling his mouth as he takes the top your left breast spilling from the brassiere on his tongue. You arch to chase the heat of his tongue, back of your head leaning on the mirror behind.

“My good boy…such a good boy…”

The effect your praise has on him is immediate. Jungkook reaches behind his neck and pulls the sweatshirt over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You watch him unbuckle and tug his belt free from the hoops before unclasping the front of his jeans. Impatient, he circles his arms around you to undo the brassiere, leaning down to kiss the indents on your skin as you slip your blouse off your shoulders and pull the straps down your arms. The coolness of the counter causes a hiss to leave your lips and Jungkook drinks in your state of orgasmic delirium like an aphrodisiac.

It’s a blessing for you to have worn a less difficult pair of pants to shimmy out of. With a short tug, Jungkook slides the waistband of your wool slacks and cotton panties down your ankles. When he pauses, chest rising and falling steadily, you follow his gaze to see a streak of blood in the middle of the light pink fabric.

In the time between your mother’s call and your boyfriend dumping your former best friend’s body in a freezer, your period makes an early appearance. The streak of blood is bright and vibrant, unlike Yori’s blood that oxidized into a deep maroon shade on his tanned skin. Jungkook tugs your pants down your ankles but takes your panties into one hand, his doe eyes coming to rest on the blood before something snaps within him.

He throws the fabric on the floor and hooks his arms beneath your shin, prompting you to gasp as he spreads your thighs apart. He stares down at your dark pubic hair before tracing two fingers up your slit and into the curls. His fingers reappear with your blood, seeping underneath his short nails and the crevices of his nailbed.

“Can I taste you, noona?” He breathes, chest rising and falling even faster. His cheeks are flaming red, the flush reaching his earlobes as his lips part for more air. He feels like he can’t breathe, seeing how beautiful, fertile, and red you are for him.

You’re hesitant, the blood reminding you of what you just done – what he just done – yet the burning in your belly proves that you want this just as much as he does. You barely had the chance to nod before Jungkook pushes his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping the blood on your vulva and clit as his nose buries in your trimmed curls. You taste metallic, as if he’s sucking on a penny, but it’s light and the syrupy texture allows him to take all of your juices in his mouth. When his tongue draws circles around your clit and he presses his lips around the nub like a suction, your fingers immediately grasp his hair from the roots, begging his tongue to fuck your weeping pussy.

Jungkook laps your folds like a starving puppy until you’re arching for him once more, thighs trapping his head where it belongs as your cum gushes out of you with traces with red. Between your blood and your juices, he can’t decide which one tastes better. The metallic tang disappears, leaving a fragrant aftertaste that he can only indulge when he inhales through his nose after swallowing what remains on his teeth. When your knees twitch, Jungkook pulls back to come up for air, watching your expression as your eyes fall to his wet crimson lips, the mess reaching his chin and jaw.

It takes a minute for you to gather yourself together and in your exhaustion a slow but soft smile reaches your lips.

“Does it taste good, baby?”

“Heavenly,” he whispers as he traps your body between his arms and gives you a taste, twisting his tongue deep inside your warm mouth. Your hands stroke the contours of his biceps and triceps, core aching as he groans when you lick your remainings from his chin.

You can tell he’s tired, having to do most of the manual labor. He winces as you knead his shoulders and it makes your chest ache. Even when he’s hurting, he takes care of you first. Your precious boy.

“Turn on the shower for me.”

Jungkook is aching to be inside you but he obeys, turning away to step inside the shower and twist the silver handle lodged into the tile. You stand behind him, moving away just slightly when the water – steadily turning hot – sprays over his hair and onto your breasts. Just as he’s about to turn around you circle your arms around his waist and reach into his jeans, palming his throbbing cock before pulling his jeans and briefs down his ankles. He steps out of the tight fabric, watching the remnants of Yori’s blood spiral down the drain as you kick the fabric in front of his toes.

The shower hose is harsh on his head but he can’t seem to pull away, one arm holding onto the wall for purchase, when you cushion your knees with his wet, blood-stained jeans. He can’t get any harder watching water drip from the ends of his hair down to your erect nipples, sliding down between the valley of your breasts and onto your soft stomach.

You’re delighted to see his cock twitch, taking your bottom lip under your teeth as you look up at him.

“You want mommy to take care of you, Kookie?”

He nods, exhaling as his abdomen clenches.

“You want to cum all over mommy’s tits, yeah? Make me proud?”

“Unng…” He moans in response, hips bucking forward to slide his leaking tip across your lips. He whimpers when you pull away, your smile twisting when his stomach clenches again.

You massage his firm thighs, gliding over every ripple of his muscles and over to the patch of pubic hair above his cock. When you pass your hands over his belly button, you stretch a palm up towards his face.

“Spit.”

The mole beneath his lips appear as he gathers as much saliva as he can produce on his tongue and spits into your palm. There are some traces of blood in your palm but you pay no attention to it as you place your saliva-coated palm over his cock and make a fist around the length.

“Mo-mmy,” he throws his head back, the shower head coming down his flushed pecs. Your fist begins to move slow but tight around his hardness. “It feels so good. Fuck…unng, mommy…please…”

Jungkook can cum just from your warm breath hitting his leaking tip but he doesn’t. When you lean forward and take his entire length in your mouth, tongue stretched as far as you can as you press your nose against his pubes, his jaw drops. You’re warm, wet, and fuck, so tight.

His other hand combs through your hair, reaching underneath the nape to pull your head back until your half-lidded eyes can watch his skin glisten.

With your hands back on his thighs, Jungkook expects you to move. What he doesn’t expect was you to tighten your throat before swallowing with his entire length in your mouth.

“Fuck!”

You gag around him but repeats, breathing through your nose before letting your whimpers and cries vibrate his cock. He’s about to lose it, his tightening grip causing your scalp to burn.

“You’re so pretty, mommy,” he pulls his length back just slightly to let you suction him back inside. When his entire length is warm and pulsing in the back of your throat, you swallow once more and begin moving up and down, your eyes closing as Jungkook backs your head to the tile and fucks your mouth at a steady pace.

“Wanna cum in your throat, all over you, inside you. God, you’re so perfect.” He chants, abdomen clenching when your throat tightens just right over his pink tip.

You hum, hands trailing behind his thighs and up to his firm cheeks to push him forward. His grip tightens once more when he whimpers your name, over and over again, his cock driving into your mouth with a vigor that’s bound to leave your throat sore in the morning.

The first spurt of his warm cum hits your uvula and you cough just as he slides out of your mouth and pumps himself into his fist. Watching his creamy cum dripping down the corner of his mouth intensifies his high, prompting him to burst onto your shoulder blades and over your wet breasts. He doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath before he pushes you down onto the tile, moving away the wet jeans to a corner before finding safety between your legs. His arms, on either side of your head, allows him to prop himself up to lead his tip towards your entrance.

He’d forgotten all about cleaning the blood on your neck when you’re spread for him, your hands cupping his face in admiration. Your eyes and nose are still puffy and red, but he knows the blush on your cheeks come from your need to have him deep inside until you can feel him against your cervix.

“I love you, noona. So, so much.”

You hiss slightly when he pushes inside, your snug velvet walls engulfing his cock and keeping him where he belongs. His body bows in servitude to the goddess that is you.

“I love you too,” you huff, brushing your fingers over his sculped cheekbones and mandible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You let him take you there despite how painful it was to bear him pounding into your walls with the intent to ruin. You’re not sure how long you lay on the tile, how many times he came inside, how sore and painful your insides will be when he’s done. It was never-ending – how Jungkook muffles your wails and whines, how he pumps his cocks while pressing your shoulders down to bury himself deep, how exhausted you are by the time he’s pushing his cum back into your swollen hole. The last orgasm triggers tears to seep from the corner of his eyes which Jungkook kisses away as he reaches up to the shower cloth and waits for you to fall limp before running the soapy cloth along your body.

You’re freezing cold despite the hot water still coming down onto your boyfriend’s body and, from there, onto you. He’s quick to clean you up and wrap you in the same towel he had laid over you the first time you used his studio shower. You can barely move as he carries you to the bed and lays your damp body on the fresh linen. You can hear the sound of him ripping open a thin menstrual pad and placing it in a pair of fresh panties he fished from the shared armoire closet. He slips the panties up your legs, lifting your hips to pull the fabric over your buttocks, flashing his usual charming grin when you murmur a thank you.

He pulls the towel from your body and squeeze out as much water as he can from your long tresses, careful not to tug. It wasn’t ideal to him that you’ll be sleeping with wet hair but you’re beyond exhausted and, to be frank, he is as well. At least he’s heading to bed satiated.

Jungkook slides under the blankets and brings your body closer by your waist. He groans into your neck, his body immediately softening as the warmth of your skin and the blanket brings him the peace and comfort he craved.

“Kookie?”

“Hm?”

It takes a heartbeat for him to sense your sudden anxiety. “…I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” He manages to ask although sleep is weighing heavy on his eyelids.

“I don’t know.” You murmur.

Jungkook is too tired to remember if you said anything afterwards for he falls deep into slumber. As for you, your head won’t let you sleep despite your body pleading for rest. Every part of you can feel Yori’s heavy body in the freezer just several feet away. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel about tonight or if tonight should have happened in the first place but in Jungkook’s arms, you can’t find the smallest ounce of pity for the woman.

You close your eyes, snuggle closer into his firm chest, and try your best to pretend nothing will change. You try to forget the flash drive sitting in your bag, the possible evidence your mother may have left behind in the villa, the corpse in the garage. Most of all, you try to forget how Jungkook looked at the bottom of the staircase, slipping the corpse inside the black plastic trash bag with such ease that makes you wonder if he had done this before. He surely must have, that voice inside of your head says but you wave it away.

I don’t know.

You lied to him. For the first time in your relationship, you lied without guilt. You do know why you’re scared and it’s not because after tonight every knock on the door will cause your heart to pound.

No. It’s because you know your boyfriend – your sweet, loving boyfriend who cries watching romantic comedies on Sundays – is truly capable of murder.

#bunny:fic #yandere bts #yandere fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan angst #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #only you #chapter 9 #I did not follow the outline I made for this chapter LOL this was an unpredictable chapter even to me

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shtern-and-art · 3 years ago

Note

"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!

This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!

I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.

Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:

What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.

Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??

Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?

Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?

Do they ever visit the og town again?

Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?

Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?

Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.

Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?

Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?

Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.

I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!

Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3

AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D

And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3

Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.

So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD

I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!

1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?

Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.

Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.

2) Rat and regular people

Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.

3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?

Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD

4) Bad and nature and animals

He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.

So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.

He doesn’t like doing it, tho.

5) Do they ever visit the og town again?

Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.

Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.

Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.

6) Skeppy and chaos

Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D

But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.

Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.

Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD

7) The studying

I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.

Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.

8) Stealing

Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D

It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:

- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary

- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town

- some small animal bones

- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets

- penny that was once glued to the ground

- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad

- pen from some fancy hotel

- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child

- the list goes on

9) Argument

Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).

10) Horses

The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.

And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.

11) Skeppy and climbing

Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.

So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<

---

Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c

Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3

(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)

---

In The Dark - masterpost

#mcyt #mcyt fanart #badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #In The Dark #it's so hot here #my laptop's keyboard is like a stove #=c=#shtern talks

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snickerl · 3 years ago

Text

Of Miracle Births and Other Wonders

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"

"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"

William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"

Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"

Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.

"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."

"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."

"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.

"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.

"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.

"Nah, I'm good."

Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."

"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."

"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.

"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."

"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."

William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"

"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"

"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.

"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."

"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.

"I don't think so."

"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."

"And how do you know?"

"I read stuff."

"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.

"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."

"Mom's not old."

"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."

"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"

"I just can't believe they let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"

"Well, I can tell you how..."

"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"

"I guess it just happened."

"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."

Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."

"Bullshit."

William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.

"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.

Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.

He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.

And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"

"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"

"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"

"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.

Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."

"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.

Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.

"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"

Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."

"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."

"Where are they?"

"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.

"Okay, let's go then."

Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.

"Girl."

"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.

William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.

#dana scully #fox mulder #emily scully #william scully #msr #xf fanfic #au fanfiction

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flowerflamestars · 3 years ago

Note

I'm in a very angry-with-the-IC-and-Rhys-in-particular mood, and since I'm just rereading Daylight I was wondering, what is going through Rhysand's mind throughout the events of Daylight? Because it's basically his entire life CRUMBLING around him and I'd love to see the mental gymnastics he does to fit it all into his "I'm the good guy, actually" narrative. Or just his general reaction.

this is a FABULOUS question, thank you!

Daylight! Rhys is, in my opinion, the closest to a canonical (pre-acosf) character representation that I go for. He's so SO fucked up, and sublimating and burying all that trauma has, of course, failed, and it's all manifesting, in all these different directions.

To understand the level on which Rhys is losing his shit, it's important to go back to the very beginning: Rhysand, to Rhysand, is always, always the hero of the story. The down on his luck knight with truth in his heart. The struggling, just man.

He CANNOT seeing beyond himself for even a second. He casts himself in the most important role, as the only person whose personal consequences exist.

His mother, at probable great risk, takes him to Illyria to be trained- the precious, first-born, godly son of Night. To learn to fight- to learn, presumably, her culture- to see what that culture is reduced to, a harshness he will on day have the power to change. Rhys had to be, at some point, a great hope for Not High Fae denizens of the Court.

What does Rhysie learn? Illyria is harsh. Illyria is bad. Backwards and cruel.

He hates his father for...presumably, the crime of being a pretty traditional High Lord? Rhys hates the cruelties! the Court of Nightmares! the broken system!

So what does Rhys do when he has power? he fires everyone. He doesn't like them, he doesn't like whatever they did under his father...so instead of hiring new people, he removes himself entirely from a potential role in changing/mitigating those policies. See also: the Court of Nightmares, cowed occasionally, but not in any way governed by Rhys.

But he's the hero! He's destroyed the oppression! His Court of Just his Bros is made of women and Illyrians!

(Rhys removed the terribleness from his direct experience...because only his experiences matter)

So, Rhys in his head: the struggle, the hero, the man just trying to do it right.

Which brings us to Daylight....and Feyre. I know we can attribute the way the characters stop even remotely being sympathetic between acomaf and...everything else...to poor writing, but I also think there's some (maybe accidental but PERFECT) character work there: in acomaf, pre-acknowledged bond, Feyre is an important possession/ally- she's on the same level as the other members of the Court of Dreams, if the jewel of the collection, a high point in the story Rhys tells himself: HE saved the HERO OF PRYTHIAN

(which...let's not even touch on the fact that the deal he makes in acotar is CREEPY and he can only justify it later. she wasn't someone he wanted to work with in acotar- she was a vulnerable, hot young woman he fully took advantage of)

And then they're mates.

And then, slowly but surely, Feyre's personhood disappears. For two reasons: 1) Feyre is on a pedestal so sky-high it blots out everything. Good, pure, true hero Feyre whose adoration Rhysand needs like air. the happy end of his story, the prize and the salvation, the one who sees him.

and 2) ultimately, to Rhys, Feyre is an extension of him. A symbol: his happiness, his peace, his endless power, what he fought to keep.

She's his whole anchor staying sane, which isn't great, considering...ya know, everything. But the Story is Over. They are Happy.

Except- except- nothing is over. Post fifty straight years of torture, a freefall into war and fuckery, teen marriage and literal death, the consequences for all those things AND THE SHIT RHYS WAS PULLING LONG BEFORE AMARANTHA TURNED HIM INTO A CHEW TOY, are still present.

But now, he has something to protect. His golden future. His puppy Mate.

Because Feyre's safety is the safety of his power and vice versa. Anything he does is justifiable because the loss of Feyre is Not an Option. She is Happy. They Are Happy.

It bleeds into everything- and then it intensifies, because this is the breaking point.

The Az/Lucien thing and Feyre incredibly hurtful blindness? No Rhys isn't going to interfere- Az is so private anyway- if Feyre believes its a romantic bond, Feyre is right, she knows her sister, not that it matters because Elain is totally out of her mind.

Sending Cassian to Illyria? Illyria is a backwards shithole right? They're fierce fighters and that's what Rhys values them for- as the hammer of his power- and nothing else? why would there be anything else? Look at them fighting and hurting each other.

Nesta runs and Cassian is left throwing himself in battles actively trying to die and Rhys? Rhys is totally smug. A problem that hurt Feyre and his brother is GONE.

But it's not gone. Az isn't talking to anyone- and Rhys thinks this probably means Lucien is probably, finally fucking him- but even Feyre understands that Azriel knows where Nesta is. When this is proved (when Elain surfaces and they have the very fun kitchen fight) Rhys isn't happy- but he understands. Azriel has always felt responsible for broken things.

But thats not his job, it's Rhysands job, and Rhys has already made that tough choice for the safety of his own: Nesta has no place here. When she resurfaces inevitably, broke and wanting something, Rhys will stop her before she gets close enough to upset (hurt) Feyre. It's his job.

Cassian goes missing, and Rhysand sets upon what will become his eventual move: Illyria's value is strength. (a martial strength that belongs to RHYS). But they think they can take from him? They can destroy their own best chance? (Rhys recognizes Cassian's value to Illyria even while, you know, ordering him to slaughter Illyrians) They would threaten his power? hurt his family?

Rhys will not allow a world to exist where Feyre can be hurt.

If Illyria can't be controlled, Illyria will be put down, like the rabid creatures they are. (They were always backwards, Rhys thinks. Freeing my mother was the one good thing my father ever did)

But Cassian lives.

Rhys asks Azriel if he's been cursed. Az laughs in his face.

And Cassian is a terrible enemy to have. The strategies the loyalists are using? His, filtered through Rhys. The magical contingencies? Cassian and Az, trying to prevent bloodshed.

Feyre thinks, for a long time, that maybe the rebels have Nesta. What else could compel Cassian to even care? these people keep trying to kill him. they want to kill Rhys. the brothers suffered in the frozen mud at the hands of these monsters, what is Cassian doing?

And then the massacre happens.

And Feyre sick to her stomach, cries when she hears. Rhysand thinks about a little hazel eyed boy who'd never had a bed, a present, who'd been nothing until Rhysand plucked him up- a little boy who'd grown into a dangerous man, who'd just killed every person who ever contributed to his pain. Rhys thinks, knowing he'll have to punish Cassian for this, that it's over.

The camp lords are dead, it has to be over.

(Azriel hears and understands- because he knows damn well Cassian was something before Rhysand, and after despite him. That beneath those repeatedly broken ribs is a heart that was once so big so save him, grown strong enough now to save everyone who was like them: forgotten, abandoned, used.)

It's not over. The mountains are burning. Banners fly on northern wind in a language long dead. They're singing, the spies say, they call him dawn. Loyal-heart-as-dawn.

It's Cassians name. Not that Rhys, who never knew more than a few vile insults in the language of his mother's ancient, proud people, understood it then.

Rhysand, the long-suffering hero of his own story, has been betrayed.

He can risk no more- it's time to end this madness. It's Feyre's idea to use Elain- it's Feyre who is left crying, a betrayal Rhysand will never forget- when Elain, who they've given everything, Elain, perhaps just as broken and wretched as her eldest sister, refuses to help keep Feyre safe.

(Elain refuses to participate in what she sees as genocide, but as we've established, what consequences exist? the ones Rhys feels right in front of his face)

Azriel, Elain, and Lucien run.

Of course, if both Feyre's sisters are capable of betraying her, of course, both of Rhysand's brothers would as well. They are one in the same, aren't they? Marked by destiny, by fate for this hard and terrible work- of course it hurts. Of course- but Rhysand will stop it from hurting Feyre any more.

There's one force in the world that can stand in truth against Illyria. The Darkbringers- their ancestral, ancient conquers.

(Yes, I do think Rhys knows the shitty, shitty history of his court! He just doesn't care! He didn't do it. He's different. He's in Velaris with the common people. He has wings. He's not his father.)

(He is, in fact, far worse)

When he thinks of it, it seems perfect. Illyria will be destroyed- a loss, but a safe one. Keir, will, almost certainly, also be destroyed or at least critically weakened.

Rhysand will stand alone, the man who was willing to do anything for peace. He will rule over an emptied playing field, secure in a world where Feyre is safe.

The Hewn City empties, the armies march- Rhysand holds tight Feyre's hand, says nothing about the fact that nothing, nothing, will stop Keir from killing anyone in front of him when battle starts, and reaches once more for Cassian's mind.

His brother, his friend, his loyal right hand- he begs him to come back. To come home. That they can put down this rebellion and in his love for Cassian everything can go back to how it is meant to be, all of them together.

It does not occur to him to address the hundreds dead. The system he was complicit in and responsible for that ground a culture to dust and ash- what matters is brother against brother should never have turned, and Rhys, in his kindness, will offer Cassian this last chance for honor.

Rhys doesn't want Cassian to die- he wants Cassian by his side- but he will drown the world in blood before he'll lose his crown and hope and Feyre.

And when Cassian dies, falling to the earth in Rhysand's arms, Rhys thinks of penance.

A circle closed.

But of course- Cassian wakes. Death is not done with her right hand anymore than the contract between Lordship and land in immutable. Cassian brought the magic back, brought Illyria back.

Rhys is fighting for something personal- Cassian is fighting for a whole world and future, with everything in himself.

When the new border is drawn, Rhys doesn't despair- sure he's shaking, he's covered in Cassian's blood, his twelve thousand year old walls are smoking and the whole world smells like fucking Nesta Archeron- he's been the victim of curses before.

He won't let it keep him down. He'll be fine. He has Feyre, they're safe. Illyria is going to implode- and maybe, maybe, he'll save some of those that remain when the violence is too much, when they need a real High Lord.

They'll come home. Just like Feyre's sisters will. Rhysand's brothers. They fought for peace and Velaris has it- it is their home.

It's what they fought for, the happy ending, and it's all worth it.

It has to be worth it.

#Rhys is deadset a huge narcissist #and in the middle of a breakdown the entirety of daylight #he's SO HURT #But's turning all that hurt into anger #and an even stricter paranoia #its all catching up to him #everything from imperialism #to the shitty way he treated his friends #to the Winter Massacre that yes was absolutely him #this is more of a Shoreless Concept but all of feysand can be summed up #by Feyre making teary BUT WE'RE FAMILY demands and Rhys immediately committing a literal warcrime #and like #I do think Rhys hates himself too #but for wildly the wrong reasons #and never more or in a real way that overcomes how much he thinks everything he does is right #Cassian's death was a cost to them #as Nesta tells Feyre: what's done cannot be undone. Rhys chose wrong #the truly bonkers Rhys thing in canon #will always be that he's both represented as Most Powerful Ever #and the wrongly ignored underdog #when in fact he throws around power constantly for petty shitty reasons

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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years ago

Note

Jaylock, specifically with transmasc Jekyll? T4T legends.

Ah yes, my favorite mix; a trans guy who wants to get trample by a big, strong werewolf, and a trans werewolf who is basically just a puppy. Hell yes <3

Also did I say that these were going to be complimentary to canon? Ahahah well I have no idea how to do that with thi- oh yeah it's an au it doesn't have to be canon complaint ahah nvm also realize i keep steering these to how these ship begins but eh no one has complained so far <3

Also at this point I think I will have to put in keep reading links bc these are getting long sjdhfsjdf

MMmokay. We can all agree that Jasper had a huge crush on Henry from the beginning? Good.

Like, Henry saved him from the cops, was incredibly nice to him from the beginning, and showed him/let him join the Society in the first place. Jasper looks up to him a lot. Henry becomes his only real friend (except for Rachel but... Well... She is more out to get with him rather than be friends with him) so of course he would just... Really... Really... Like Henry after a while.

Virginia catches Jasper watching Henry talking to some of the other Lodgers at some point and she knows exactly what he is thinking. He can try defending himself for exactly 3 seconds before all excuses die in his throat and Virginia begins to pat his back.

"That's normal, mate. Everyone has a crush on Henry at some point." - "Everyone????" - "Yep. You won't hear half of this lot admit it, but everyone has had some kind of crush on him." - "Even you?" - "I said everyone, didn't I?"

Cue a lot of embarrassment from Jasper, cue a lot of understanding and sympathetic gossiping by the other Lodgers, cue a lot of "What do you mean that's the best thing about Henry?", cue a lot of "don't worry, you'll get over the crush soon!".

Except he doesn't. He waits days, weeks, maybe even months, but the crush never disappears. The fact that Henry is so stupidly sweet and caring and loves to spend time with him doesn't help Jasper's situation at all. And the Lodgers notice, and the Lodgers tease him about it.

Henry, as often, remains blissfully unaware.

Or at least that's what Jasper thinks. When Henry comes around to his lab to say hi and check in, and when he brings him some sweets that he claims Rachel sent him to give to him, and when Henry just so happens to eye Jasper up and down, Jasper believes that Henry is just being... Friendly. Very friendly.

And he is just being friendly, at least Henry tells himself that too. Or maybe it's the way he sometimes have a hard time looking away from the werewolf that he realizes that he is... Quite accidentally... Being a bit more than friendly.

And then Jasper-- accidentally or inaccidentally-- comes out to Henry. Perhaps it would be like the same panic in canon but him actually confessing to Henry instead, or Henry would maybe accidentally walk in on Jasper changing. Either way, Jasper halfly panics and Henry just gets the brightest grin on his face, so excited, before he immediately tells Jasper that he can be calm because he understands perfectly!

He doesn't even manage to get out that he, too, is trans, before he immediately starts asking Jasper if he has started to medically transitioned-- like "have you had any surgeries? Or have you taken potions? Oh there are a lot of good potions to change-- personally, Lanyon helped me with surgeries but I made some helpful potions for Virginia-- Oh did you know Virginia is like us, too? But reverse, of course--"

Henry is just. Rambling to poor Jasper. Poor Jasper who is permanently stuck in a :O. He can barely process the words that his very own crush is telling him. For a moment his brain shortcuts and all he can do is to stare at Henry-- the way he is so wildly gesturing as the words roll off of his tongue at 100 words per second. But then Henry notices Jasper's confusion, and he stops, and he repeats himself. He is trans, too.

It ends up with the two of them having a long, long conversation about gender identity as the evening wears on. Henry tells Jasper practically everything he knows about it. He tells him how it wasn't until he started puberty that he realized that it felt wrong, but he couldn't fully transition until later on in life. Lanyon helped him with surgeries but it wasn't until he fully started playing into alchemy that he found and created potions that could help with transitions.

To make a long story short, Henry promises to help Jasper with transitions.

Maybe that's why they suddenly kept getting closer after that. They could relate to each other. Suddenly they wanted to spend more time together. Oh wow huh they are really spending a lot of time together. Wow they are sitting really close... Huh... Wow, wow, wow, Henry is certainly in Jasper's personal space... And Jasper is not pulling away...

Oh wow they smooching. So much smooching. So much smooching yet it's so soft and careful and gentle, Jasper practically melts; melts into the kiss just as much as he melts into Henry's arms.

Aight now some time for the actual relationship hcs.

Hai yes I have said this with every ship so far but consider; cuddles. Jasper is a cuddle bug, Henry craves the warmth and affection.

(Both of them can agree that their favorite cuddles are the full moon cuddles when Jasper is just. A fluffy werewolf. And Henry can bury his entire self into his fur).

Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections? Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections.

Sometimes Henry will be very swamped in paperwork, sometimes Jasper wants cuddles, sometimes they compromise and Jasper gets to sit on Henry's lap while he does paperwork. Sometimes Zosi or Christopher will be jealous and it will end up with them in Jasper's lap, too.

Jasper is the only one that supports Henry's obsession with wanting every pet he finds. Jasper is also Henry's alibi when a new stray animal ends up in the Society ("ahah what do you mean "new stray" that's Abby, y'know, one of Jasper's pets").

Jasper's main goal in life is to hear Henry talking in his Scottish accent as much as possible. Jasper is the only one Henry allows to hear it.

Cuddles in bed with Jasper tracing Henry's chest scars (is... Is there an actual word for those scars? Ahaha I don't know) and Henry stroking his hands over Jasper's sides, almost happy that Jasper didn't have to go through surgeries like he did.

Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves? Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves.

So many smooches. Henry can't keep his lips off of Jasper for more than a minute most of the time. So many hugs and so many cuddles after a long day of boring meetings and socializing. Jasper always giggles because he is super ticklish.

Henry reading a book or the newspaper on the couch, reading glasses hanging low on his nose, drinking a glass of wine with his free hand while Jasper is seated on his lap, head rested against his shoulder as he gently snoozes bc poor boy is tired <3

Henry has... Stupidly many nicknames for Jasper. "Fluffball", "Fluffpuff", "Sweetheart", "Wolfie", "My Mister", "Little Sir". He literally will come up with something on the spot and stick with it because Jasper will always giggle and blush.

Surprisingly, Henry is the clingy one. He is also the small spoon most of the time. Man is just skin and bone, he can curl up perfectly so that Jasper, i.e chubby and strong legend McGee, can hold him <3

Virginia third-wheels them a lot. It will start as her trying to have a conversation with her mentor and fellow trans legend and then they will be interrupted by a clingy (and also fellow trans legend) Jasper who came to Jekyll's office in the search for some attention and affection. It ends up with Jasper on Henry's lap while Henry continues his conversation with Virginia like nothing happened.

Jasper was the first one to get to know about Hyde. He was... Surprisingly unbothered and casual about it. That was, at least, until Hyde pinned him against a wall one night and began to flirt with him. Jasper was quite sure his face exploded with blush.

Hyde loves to tease Jasper. Henry constantly tells him off for being... Ah, well, uhm... AH... Too "flirty" with him, so to speak. Jasper has learned to turn the other way and run every time he catches the sight of blond hair or a whiff of spearmint unless he wants to get a heart attack.

Have I told you how much I love the thought of werewolf cuddles?

Also, full werewolf!Jasper basically losing his... Um, sense of awareness? Like he forgets that he is human and he often forgets who the people in his surroundings are, unlike when he was a half-werewolf and fully aware.

What I'm saying is; give me werewolf!Jasper being so incredibly curious by Henry and sniffing him everywhere, somehow opening his shirt just so he can lick his scars because the pack and mate instincts in Jasper is through the roof and his mate is hurt why is he hurt wHO HURT HIM hE SHALL HEAL HIM THROUGH THE POWER OF KISSES.

Henry kissing Jasper's snout. Henry rubbing Jasper's belly. Henry constantly praising and complimenting Jasper.

Henry always making sure Jasper knows how handsome and manly he is. Henry always making sure that Jasper has clothes that aren't torn or dirty and that are comfortable and fits well. Henry doting on Jasper.

Jasper always being there for Henry when things get rough. Jasper stating everything that he loves with Henry and kissing him on the nose when all Henry wants to do is smash his head against the desk and cry. Jasper and Henry taking care of each other <3

#hehe <3 #tgs #the glass scientists #tgs jasper #tgs jasper kaylock #the glass scientists jasper #the glass scientists jasper kaylock #tgs jekyll #tgs henry jekyll #the glass scientists jekyll #the glass scientists henry jekyll #tgs jaylock #the glass scientists jaylock #jaylock #jasper x jekyll #ask #thejeksburyguys #trans!jekyll au

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whimsicallyreading · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Time

Masterlist

Bryce could only prolong this talk for so long.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Ithan. They’ve both been dying to speak to each other since she closed the gates.

Bryce wanted hug him. To thank Cthona that he’d made it into the cellar, and get to know him as the person he’s become. Conner’s little brother who is all grown up now.

Before they could do that, they had to clear the air between them. It would require picking at old wounds so they could heal properly. The death of the back was a rugged, festering scar on both of them. Solving Danika’s murder started the long journey towards healing and it couldn’t be stopped now.

Ithan was a big part of this.

“Would you like me to stay with you, Sweetheart?” Hunt mumbles into her hair.

Bryce knew he would stay if she asked. Bear the awkwardness of this conversation silently, acting as a welcomed voyeur to this mending of a relationship. Her and Ithan needed the safety of privacy to work this our, though.

She leans up and presses a kiss to the high arch of his cheek. “You don’t need to hand around. It’s just a talk.”

Hunt looks decidedly concerned, but doesn’t contradict her choice. “Let me know when you are through. We can go out for dinner tonight.”

Bryce wrinkles her nose, “Where we can get harassed by paparazzi and journalists? I don’t like having my picture taken when I’m trying to shove noodles into my mouth.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he brushes a piece of hair back from her face, “they won’t be bothering us tonight. I’ll make sure of it.” There’s a lightness to Hunt’s posture and a wicked gleam in his eyes now. Freedom looked good on him, and he was thriving.

Bryce felt the strange new magic inside of her twist. It was almost as attracted to Hunt as she was, and it always answered his call to playfulness and mischief. The kind of trouble Bryce herself was always drawn to.

Kindred souls, mirrors, whatever you wanted to call them, there was an unmistakable bond between them. One, that when Ember finally comes to visit with assuage her worries about her only daughter being with a Vanir male.

That was saying something.

Bryce looks through the glass windows of the bar where Ithan sits. He hasn’t seemed to notice her presence yet, the weight of what they were about to do was probably distracting him as well.

“Call me when you finish,” are Hunt’s final words before he takes off above the city streets.

Bryce looks at Ithan for a moment longer, and counts to three before walking inside.

As was typical these days, the minute she steps through the doors, heads turn. A couple of men even pull out their phone to snap picture, but Bryce flips them off and ruins their shots.

Or maybe they will sell it to CC Weekly and title it Princess Unhinged Again.

Ithan turns and glares at some of the offenders, and a few even have the common sense to turn away. Pissing off the new lead of the Aux packs wasn’t high on anyone’s to do lists.

Bryce was glad for Amelie’s decision to step down. She took it upon herself to decide that someone who didn’t have the dominance to oppose Sabine in her rash decisions should be her second. It was also becoming more apparent to the other packs that Ithan was built to be an alpha male, and Amelie was doing a piss poor job of maintaining control.

Ithan’s eyes catch Bryce’s, and instead of angry, he seems almost sorrowful. She pulls out the barstool next to his and orders a beer, looks at Ithan, then orders another for him as well.

Step one, they both would need alcohol for this.

“I’m not going to lie, Bryce.” He says looking up at the TV playing Sunball reruns on the screen and keeps his gaze fully locked there. “I’m really freaking uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, it is.” She agrees, “but it shouldn’t be, and that’s why we are doing this.”

“He was my brother.” Ithan chokes out and Bryce feels a tear in her heart. “You hurt him really bad and then he died.”

“I know,” Bryce swallows.

“He loved you.” There are tears dripping down Ithan’s cheeks and makes no move to wipe them. “You didn’t love him, but you lead him on and made him think he had a chance.”

Bryce wanted to retort, but she knew Ithan needed to express these feelings. He’d harbored them for so long they needed to be said aloud before they could be dealt with.

“He died and you wouldn’t even talk to me,” Ithan looks at her in betrayal.

She has to dab at her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt. Ithan looked so lost. So different from the vibrant puppy who played college sports and squished next to her on the couch. Bryce felt responsible for that loss of innocence even if she hadn’t been the one to kill Conner.

“I’m sorry,” she says, through the lump in her throat. “I know that doesn’t mean much but I am. You should know that I did love him.”

Ithan scoffs, and shakes his head at those words. “Sure you did.”

“I did.” Bryce hisses leaning forward, but catches herself and sits back in her chair. “You don’t get to tell me what I felt. I was young, stupid, and scared about what a relationship would mean.”

A sigh escapes her and she leans her face into her hands. “You know my baggage with Vanir males. I won’t go into that again. Conner was an intense person. I know how he felt about me but I wasn’t ready, yet.”

She looks Ithan in the eye, pleading for him to understand. “I wasn’t ready then.”

Her and Conner had just taken the first baby step in a relationship that night. They hadn’t made any commitments to each other, and while the wolves may see things differently Conner wasn’t expecting her to dive head first.

If they’d had more time, there would have been more baby steps. More progress. Bryce would have had time to mature and for Conner to be sure he was making the right choice not searching for a mate. They might have become something.

But they never got the chance.

“I couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror, there was no way I could have faced you.” Bryce confesses weakly. “If I could change the choices I made that night, I would. Without hesitation, but that’s a useless thought to entertain.”

All she could do was live with the choices she made. The past couldn’t be erased, and with Hunt, she was finally learning to embrace the future.

Connor sniffles and takes a long drink of the beer in front of him. “It wasn’t your fault, Bryce.”

Shock ran its cold fingers up her spine, and Bryce couldn’t keep the surprise from her face.

“You messed up. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard to forgive you for that,” Ithan says and Bryce cringes a little. “But I should never have let you go in believing you were to blame for them dying.”

“Ithan-“ the tremble in Bryce’s voice sends more tears to her eyes and she dabs them with a bar napkin. “Ithan I-“

“No,” he stops her short. “They were family too. You were in the right place at the right time and it spared your life. There was nothing you could have done, and I’m glad you aren’t dead. I would miss you.”

Ithan shudders and takes a gasping breath, and it breaks Bryce as well. She reaches over and wraps her arms around him, while Ithan squeezes her waisted as if he were afraid she’d disappear.

Several moments pass with them like this. Bryce knows a few people have snapped photos, but there isn’t any more room for anger. Not with the relief flooding through her veins, chilling that hot white pain she’d carried for so long.

“I forgive you Bryce,” Ithan whispers in her ear.

Bryce sobs, “I missed you too Ithan.”

They both pull away, wiping their faces and taking drinks of their beers to calm down. A cheer comes from the TV screen as a goal is scored, and a bowl of peanuts had been set in front of them at some point.

“Can we start over? Bryce asks hesitantly. “Is there a chance we could be friends again?”

Juniper was busy and Fury was gone on another mission. With Hunt and Ruhn active in her life again she was a lot less lonely, but there was still a gap where the pack had been. Where Ithan used to be.

Ithan takes a moment to think. “No,” he says, breathing out and taking a drink of beer. He rolls a peanut shell between his meat-stick finger. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” Bryce said. That didn’t feel like a knife in her gut at all.

“No,” Ithan continues. “Because we are family. We’ve always been family.”

Bryce beams from ear to ear, she honestly may even be glowing a bit. “I like the sounds of that.”

They drink beer, and soon talk becomes easier. Ithan fills her in on the years she missed, Bryce talks about the dance classes she’s taking again. They even talk about the night the she shut the gates, and the backlash that’s followed.

Time passes, and before she realizes it, Bryce is late to meet with Hunt.

“Shit,” Bryce starts gathering her things and lays a few bronze marks on the table. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hot date with your Angel?” Ithan asks and Bryce blushes and turns away, feeling slightly ashamed to acknowledge her new boyfriend in front of Conner’s brother.

Ithan touches her shoulder, “Conner would have liked Hunt for you.”

Bryce had texted Hunt, and she can see him land on the sidewalk outside of the bar, but her attention is still focused on Ithan.

“They didn’t know each other very well when he was alive,” Ithan acknowledges, “but if my brother saw how happy Hunt makes you, it wouldn’t have mattered. At the end of the day, he would just want you to be happy.”

Bryce grabs his hand and squeezes it. “He would be proud of you Ithan.”

“I know,” he smiles. “Now get going, I have to report for my Aux shift soon anyways. We should meet up again sometimes.”

They bid their goodbyes and Bryce feels a million times lighter as she walks out of the bar. Hunt sweeps her into his arms and they take off over the streets of Lunathion.

“How did it go?” He asks.

“Really well,” Bryce tells him l about their conversation and the bridges they mended. Hunt listens without judgement or interruption.

He lands in vacant side street close to the Old Square. A food cart serving spicy wraps, pita bread and hummus is just down the block. “I figured we could get some food and have a picnic?”

“A picnic?” Bryce smiles. “I like the sound of that.”

They’d made a bucket list of things ordinary people did in the city that Hunt has yet to try, and they attempt to knock a few off each week. Bryce took photos, and Hunt would get them developed after work. Soon a whole wall of their apartment was now decorated with photos of the two of them having fun.

A picnic was on their list, but near the bottom. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing Hunt would be super interested in.

Yet here they were.

It turns out, he’d even packed an old blanket in his backpack. When they finished eating Hunt and Bryce laid out under the stars, not speaking but just content in each other’s presence.

Her phone dings.

A text bubble from Ithan appears, quickly followed by another.

I hope you and Hunt are having fun. Conner isn’t the only one happy for you. I’m glad you’ve found someone.

It’s time

Bryce’s heart is warned further, and she sets her phone back down on the blanket beside her. She would call Ithan in the morning. Right now, Hunt’s wing was draping over her and the softness of it could put her to sleep.

Everyone was moving on, but instead of bitter and sad, there was hope. Their loved ones may be gone, but they weren’t forgotten. The pack would always be in her and Ithan’s heart, and where love endured so would their memories.

“You didn’t tell me your mother is coming next week,” Hunt whispers as Bryce’s eyes droop.

“I wasn’t about to give you time to prepare yourself,” Bryce smiles into his neck. “It’s better if you just jump in feet first with her.”

“Menace,” he hisses. “A pretty menace, but a pain in my ass at the same time.”

“We can face her together,” Bryce yawns.

“Go to sleep,” Hunt encourages. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. Like I said earlier, no one is going to bug you when I’m around.”

So, under the night sky, wrapped in a velvet wind, her and Hunt fall asleep, looking forward to tomorrow at last.

The conversion at the end of HoEaB I feel we desperately needed 😂

Taglist- (let me know if you would like to be added or removed :D)

@cursebreaker29

@firestarsandseneschals

@royalsqueeze

@julemmaes

@tillyrubes10

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

#crescent city #a house of earth and blood #hunt and bryce #Ithan Holstom #a little angsty #lots of comfort

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hacked-by-jake · 4 years ago

Text

Was that Jake there?

Part 2

Fandom: Duskwood

Paaring: Jake x MC

Word counter: 5,3k

Passage:

-"It doesn’t have to be just one night”

"Okay, just kidding please don’t hit me" Phil grins.

You roll your eyes.

"But you noticed when we wrote that I thought you are pretty" he adds.

"Phil.." Actually, you want to tell him that he should stop but you were interrupted.

"I think that were enough jokes for this night" you hear a dark voice behind Phil talking.

Phil scares out and turns around. You were expecting Dan, but that’s definitely not Dan.-

Preface: Hi guys👋🏻 I’m back with a new story. This one takes place after episode 6. Those who know my other stories know that I love it when the mysterious hacker suddenly appears. I don’t think it’s a spoiler, most of us are already done with episode 6.

I hope there are not too many mistakes and you can understand everything. It took all night to translate the German text. It may be that I missed some things but I hope you don’t mind by reading this. In the text there will be short passages from two songs, I have linked the songs but you don’t have to listen to them. I just wanted to bring the feeling over more. I hope you like it and have fun

"Jesssyyyy" you call out loud so she can hear you despite the loud music. Excited, she turns in your direction and you go through it between the other guests to get to Jessy quickly. It’s your first time in Duskwood. In keeping with Jessy’s birthday she celebrates at the city’s most famous club. She extra rented a Vip Lounge for this day.

You landed with the plane two hours ago, and Dan picked you up at the airport.

You brought your luggage to Jessy’s apartment, she gave Dan a key so you could leave your things in her apartment.

Unfortunately, you could not take an earlier flight because your Boss needed your help at work. But in this Moment is isn't important. Now you are finally in Duskwood. Jessy and the rest are already at the club celebrating. Actually, it’s her birthday tomorrow, but she wanted to party in. "MC" calls Jessy back loudly as she sees you between the people.If you hadn’t waved, she would never have seen you. Shortly thereafter, you happily fall into each other’s arms.

"Oh my God, I’m so happy to finally see you, so finally in real and not just about pictures," she murmurs into your ear. "I’m looking forward, too."

"Today we are having a party and forget everything for a few hours okay?" she asks grinning. You nod to her with determination. "It’s my turn to say hello" shouts a male voice.

Richy lifts you up a little bit and turns you both in a circle. Laughing, he lets you stand on the ground again. "THERE IS THE RIDDLE QUEEN YES" he shouts loudly and gossip. You bow and wink at him.

"MC" someone calls your name. This time Cleo’s coming at you. "Hello Cleo" you giggle and hug her too. "Nice that you managed to come" "I am also very happy, I must not miss this" "You should have come much earlier" she looks offended away but grins. "You could have invited me, but you didn’t," you giggle.

"Touché" she laughs.

Shortly thereafter, Thomas greets you. "Today we don’t think about the bad" you demend. "Tonight is ours," he agrees. He holds his hand up and you claps.

Also you and Lilly greet each other.It was weird at the beginning but after a short time it got better.

Since you’ve been standing in the way all the time and everyone has to walk past you, Dan finally pushes you into the sitting area of the lounge.

You recognize Phil right away, but you don’t know the rest of the people. You sit next to Jessy, and right now, Dan will hold you a glass of whiskey. "Whiskey Dan? Are you sure?" you ask. "No, we’re drinking tequila," Jessy blends in and puts a little glass on the table. Two shots of tequila and a glass of whiskey later, you’re suddenly tapped by someone. Your head turns in the direction you think the person is.

Frightened you open your eyes, Phil’s face is not ten centimeters from yours. "Woah" directly you slide back a bit. You bumping into Jessy. The glass in her hand starts to shake and the drink lands on the floor. Jessi’s face turns in your direction and you look at each oher in surprise. She starts laughing and you join in. Phil looks at you troubled. "Okay, that’s a girl thing," he grins. Another girl calls out to Jessy, she gets up and walks towards the bar. Phil starts talking, but you don’t hear anything through the loud music. "What did you say? I didn’t understand anything," you shouted. The bench of the lounge has a padded backrest. Phil puts his arm on this one just behind your shoulders, leaning down a bit to your ear. "I said we didn’t have time to say hello, you wanted to come to the Aurora" "That’s right, I haven’t made it yet, I’m in Duskwood for the first time today," you murmur. "Then you should come more often from now on" he winks. Nervously you smile at him and try to slip away a bit. You drink a sip of your cocktail and look around, you see Dan standing a few meters away, watching Phil skeptically. This is your chance. Inconspicuously you squint in Phil’s direction to show Dan that you need help. You have become quite good friends lately and he understands your situation immediately. He comes up to you and waves. Immediately you wave back and act like you’ve only just noticed him. Phil, who was about to tell you something, gets interrupted by Dan. "MC come with me, Jessy wants you to go dancing with her," he calls. You’re looking at Phil. He just smiles and moves aside so you can go to Dan. The bearded one immediately takes your hand and pulls you in the direction where the bar is. "Thank you" you say. "Watch little one, I really don’t like your hacker friend very much, but then I’d rather take him than a fuck boy like Phil. He is not a relationship person" You’re starting to smile. "If he shows up again, I’ll take care of it," you answer. "Yeah, and I’m gonna have to talk to him, just not as nice as you plan to do." Asking, you look at Dan and pull up an eyebrow.

"MC you don’t have to pretend like you don’t care about anything. You have changed slightly, become paranoid and much more careful with what you say. We haven’t said anything yet because we didn’t want to interfere, neither of us understands what’s between you and Jake." You look at the floor sad. You haven’t noticed yourself that you are feeling so bad, but if the others even notice it when writing, it will be true. "It doesn’t matter, I promised Jessy that this evening was ours, so let’s just celebrate." You blink at Dan and hit him lightly against his shoulder. Suddenly you’re hugged from behind and almost thrown to the ground. Dan can hold you just as tight as Jessy screams into your ear. "LET’S DANCE MC PLEASE" she shouts. "AUA JESSYYYY NOT SO LOUD, I’M NOT DEAF" you call back just as loud what makes her giggle. She looks at you like a puppy, pleading her hands folded. "All right, but only if Dan comes too" "What? No! I don’t dance..." "Yay" calls the redhead in between and pulls Dan and you behind her. On the dance floor you will meet the rest of the group. Richy and Thomas have put an arm around their shoulders and jump up and down to the beat of the music. They call the lines of the song.

"When I saw her Walking down the street She looked so fine I just had to speak I asked her name But she turned away As she walked All that I could say what"

Typical party music is played by the DJ. When Richy finds you three, he screams. "MCCCC" He shouts so loudly that some strangers turn to you and look at you. Giggling, you look back at Richy who just shrugs his shoulders. He and Thomas still jump up and down. Richy puts his right arm around you and encourages you to join in. Laughing you do what he wants and put an arm around Jessy’s shoulder. Jessy does the same with Dan. Dan puts his arm around Cleo and these around Lilly. And so you all stand there and jump together to the beat of the music and laugh.

"So many girls in here, where do I begin? I seen this one, I’m 'bout to go in Then she said, I’m here with my friends She got me thinking and that’s when I said Where the girls at, girls at? Where the girls at, girls at? Where the girls at, girls at?

So go get them, we can all be friends" you all sing together in the choir for "Where Them Girl At - David Guetta". Soon you realize that Richy seems to be pretty good at rapping. Even if the text is rather screamed, in real life it would certainly sound good. Meanwhile, Phil and a friend of his have also come to you. You didn’t care because first they brought a tablet with shots you all drank together. Second, Phil has a certain distance from you and doesn’t stand right next to you. Third, because you just didn’t care about anything and you just enjoyed the music and the time with your friends.

“No, no I don't endorse that, pause that, abort that Just the other day mi go London, saw that, kids down the street Paparazzi, all that Hey hey what can I say? Day day day da-day day Coming through the club all the girls in the back of me This ain't football why the fuck they tryna tackle me?"

Thomas pulls Lilly between him and Richy. The poor girl is pushed back and forth for fun while both sing the lyrics.

"Really, I pick dude at the bar like really Looking like he wanna good time like really"

Richy puts both hands on Lilly’s shoulders from behind and jumps around next to her.

"Said he had a friend for my home girl Lilly Lilly, Lilly, Lilly" Lilly looks at him unsettled and almost loses the balance because of the movement Richy produces.

The song ends and a different melody sounds.The melody of "Happy Birthday" It’s zero o'clock, it’s Jessy’s birthday. All guests who don’t belong to Jesse’s birthday are looking around confused. Dan and Thomas disappeared a minute ago to get the cake for Jessy. Jessy gets pulled into the middle by Richy and the rest of you line up around her. You’re looking confused at Richy, who took care of "Happy Birthday" being played for Jessy.

"Feliz cumpleaños? That’s Spanish?" you realize.

He nods proudly.

You look at him "Why?"

"Is something normal with us?" he asks grinning.

You’re shaking your head.

"See? That’s why Spanish"

"Can anyone here speak Spanish?"

"No, I don’t think so, but whatever"

"Idiot" you answer laughing.

People make way and you see a bright light of candles on the cake. Cleo keeps her hands on Jessys eyes, so she can’t see. The music goes out and Cleo takes the hands off Jessy’s eyes.

Her eyes get big when she sees the cake Cleo made. "1...2...3..." Thomas shouts, at the same time everyone starts singing again for Jessy, even the guests who don’t belong to Jessy sing along. Like on command, Jessy starts crying. Quickly you go to her and take her in your arms. At the end of song, everyone starts to applaud. You congratulate her, "Happy Birthday Jessy" and hug her tight. "You have to blow out the candles," says Dan. "Make a wish," Lilly adds. "But don’t say it out loud, otherwise the wish won’t come true" you warn her. "You’re so cute," Jessy murmurs, wiping away the tears. Then she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then she blows out the candles. Then everyone applauds again. Little by little, everyone congratulates her. Even some strangers wish her well. Everyone gives the presents to Richy, who then takes them to his car and puts them in the trunk, where everything stays all night. Since each of you drinks alcohol, you and Jessy will take a cab home to her later.

And as soon as everyone wakes up, Dan Richy drives back to the club so Richy can get the car. Then you all meet at Jessy’s and have breakfast together, and then the others want to show you some Duskwood. You took a week off so you’ll be here a few more days. Arrived in the lounge Dan puts the cake on the table to wish Jessy finally all the best. "So how do we eat it now? We’re definitely not allowed to use cutlery in here" Jessy looks at us questioningly. "You’re right, that’s why the cake has already been cut, and Cleo brought a pack of napkins, which should be enough" Richy explains. After eating the cake, Jessy bought some drinks for all. Now you’re all back on the dance floor. So slowly you start to sweat and also you get a little dizzy. "I’m going outside for a minute, get some fresh air" you call out. "Shall we come with you?" Dan asks directly and looks worried. "No, I’ll be fine. I need a little rest, there must be other guys outside. And if the man without a face kidnaps me, look for me and hit him"

"Okay, but if you’re not back in 20 minutes, we’ll come looking for you," Dan warns you.

"Okay, dad, do that" you wink at him and start squeezing you through the people.

Shortly thereafter, you open the door and step out into the night.

Immediately, the cold wind hits you, goose bumps spread on your arms and you take a deep breath.

Immediately you relax a little.

Further away is a small group who smoke and laugh.

Well, you’re not alone, and even if the bouncers are still there. And the way they look, the man without a face has no chance of kidnapping you. You lean back against the cold wall and close your eyes for a moment.

You didn’t expect it to be so cold and folded your arms in front of your chest to protect your arms a little.

Enjoying the tranquility you do not notice the steps that come to you.

"Hey, there you are" suddenly sounds.

Immediately you flinch and jump away from the person.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you" Phil looks at you.

"Oh my God, never do that again" you hiss and hold your hand to your chest to calm your heart, which beats twice as fast as usual.

"All right? You’re pale.Did you get so scared?" he grins at you. "Of course, you know I’m trying to find a missing girlfriend? It can happen that one is more frightened than usual" you explain.

"Why are you out here all alone, you’re right, there’s a murderer running around, it’s pretty irresponsible of you."

"Or are you seeing the kidnapper?" he jokes.

"Haha, no, I was just warm and I needed some fresh air, and what are you doing here?"

"The same" he mumbles and brings a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of the shirt he is wearing over the tshirt.

"Any?" he asks.

Considering you look at the box he’s holding out to you.

You were just reaching for it when you saw a movement across the street, it looked like a man. You look at the street light in a flash, but there’s nothing.

"Everything okay?" asks Jessy’s brother.

"Yes, everything is fine, thank you, I do not want any" you refuse the cigarettes.

"How do you like the evening so far?"

"Very good, and how do you like it?" you answer his question.

"It’s okay, but the night is still young, so much can happen or not?" he breathes.

Oh no, please don’t.

"Uh, sure?" your answer sounds more like an overwhelmed question.

"Where do you sleep?"

"in Jessy’s apartment" you answer and try not to show how unpleasant the situation is.

"You can sleep with me too" he grins at you. "Oh, uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea," you mumble and nervously rub a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Why not? Do you have a boyfriend?"

You look at him annoyed.

"No, I don’t, it’s complicated, but I’m not the type for One Night Stands" you explain.

"It doesn’t have to be just one night" he laughs.

"Okay, just kidding please don’t hit me" he grins.

You roll your eyes.

"But you noticed when we wrote that I thought you are pretty" he adds.

"Phil.." Actually, you want to tell him that he should stop but you were interrupted.

"I think that were enough jokes for this night" you hear a dark voice behind Phil talking. Phil scares out and turns around. You were expecting Dan, but that’s definitely not Dan. "Wow, who are you?" Phil asks. In front of him stands a dark-clad man. The hood of his black jacket is pulled over his head. Instead of a face, you look at the face of a staring mask. That one mask you missed so much. "It doesn’t matter, but now you should stop giving MC a bad feeling" hisses the man who’s obviously Jake. "Oh, and who are you to speak for MC? She can say that by herself or not?" hisses Phil. "She can, and she certainly would, but if you had looked out for her, you would have seen that she was not feeling well. So go back inside and leave her alone. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of her" the voice sounds a little mechanical but not like the one he usually uses. But distorting a voice in the mask would also be weird. But wouldn’t surprise you either.

Instead of interfering, you’re frozen in the same place. Your mouth is open with amazement and you forget to blink.

"You are threatening me?" Phil keep provoking. He’s not a man who likes to take orders.

"Never mess with a person you don’t know, you never know what the person is capable of. I could destroy your whole life, Philipp Hoppkins. Owner of the bar Aurora. I even know the name of your first girlfriend"

Jake is a little bit taller than Phil.

It looks a little creepy the way he looking down on Phil from above and holding his head slightly crooked.

"Are you a stalker or why do you know everything about me?" Phil looks confused at Jake.

"That also doesn’t matter, but if you want to keep your bar, get out of here now" Jake’s voice sounds like a warning. "You’re really threatening me," hisses Phil.

"No, I just gave you a hint," counters Jake.

Finally you come back in the real world, you had to realize for a moment that Jake was there, he was here, he is one meter in front of you.

"Is it really you?" you breathe overwhelmed.

Jake’s head is moving in your direction and you realize he’s nodding to you.

As if Phil wasn’t there, Jake slips past him and stops in front of you.

"What are you doing here?" you immediately ask.

"I wanted to..I wanted to see if everything is okay, how you are" he whispers.

"Why? Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you safe?" the questions just pop out of you. "I’m sorry, MC, I don’t have much time. The important thing is that I was worried that you were in Duskwood so I wanted to check on you to make sure everything was okay."

"Please, Jake, can’t you stay a day or something?" you beg him.

"MC please, it’s not safe here," he whispers.

"I’m weird because I’m flirting with you, but you’re talking to the masked guy?" Phil suddenly asks.

You look at him hard and you reach for Jake’s hand.

You feel his whole body tense as you pull him away from Phillip.

A few feet away, you stop to talk alone to the hacker. "Jake, please, we can meet at the motel. I’m sure Lilly can help us, so no one can see us at the motel.Please, I have so many questions and I’m worried about you"

You can hear him sighing.

At this moment, you wish the mask away so you can see his reaction.

It’s quiet for almost a minute.

"Jake please" is your breath.

He’s growling.

"That’s not good, MC, that’s dangerous, you’re dangerous, dangerous to me," he murmurs.

Dangerous for him? That sounds kind of hot but also like an insult.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"I should have left long ago, but I’m still standing here and I feel like I’m having a heart attack. my heart is beating so fast it can't be healthy" he calmly explains. "Are your persecutors so close to you or why is your heart beating so fast?" you ask him uncertainly. "No MC that’s not the reason, I have a bit of a lead right now which is why I can be here" "Are you scared about the raven guy?" "God MC no, because of you! Because of you it beats so fast, that’s why I’m still here, because I missed you" "Ohhhh ah" you murmur and you notice how your cheeks turn red. A little moment it’s quiet between you both. "I was hoping for a reaction," Jake whispers, wanting to take a step back. before he can move, you hug him tight. He breathes in surprised Again, you realize how he’s tense.

But shortly afterwards he relaxes and also put his arms around you.

His smell draws into your nose and clouds your mind. It feels as if all the problems and every difficulty just falls from your soul.You automatically feel safe and secure. It’s like a switch in your head flipping.

A few moments ago it was cold and now you are warm, cuddly warm and beautiful. And you know right away that you want that feeling that you’ve only felt with Jake, forever.

Forever in your life, forever by your side.

Him by your side forever. This hacker whose face you don’t know, whose identity you don’t really know, who is wanted by the government, this hacker has sneaked directly into your heart with his sweet nature. And that’s where you want to keep him.

"I missed you too, Jake, you can’t imagine how much" you sniffed. You can’t control it, you’ve been so worried about Jake that you’re just relieved to see him. In addition, you have already drunk one or the other glass of alcohol today and therefore your senses are already a little foggy. "Are you crying?" you hear Jake asking. You press your head firmly against his chest and hide your head under his arm lying around your shoulder. "No," you snifed again. "Yes, you do, look at me, Mc," he breathes and pushes you away to look at you. "Why?" he asks quietly. "I was just worried! I didn’t know until just now if you were caught by the government or if you were safe. And now you’re standing in front of me." "I’m sorry, really, but I also have to think about you, if they catch me, and find everything, you’re in danger. You hacked with me. Not all of this, but simply trusting a hacker and hacking a stranger’s cell phone is also illegal" he explains objectively. "Couldn’t you at least get in touch once? So much has happened where I needed you.I know you can’t help it. I don’t want to blame you, but I was alone. The others from the group were by my side but that’s not the same as with you. Besides, Hannah and I don’t know each other. I can look at everything objectively and at the same time have to consider whether Jessy or one of the others is acting out of emotions. I talk too much for that you don’t have time I’m sorry" your voice sounds desperate.

"You don’t have to be sorry, I have to be sorry. And I want to protect you, that’s all I care about, that you’re safe."

Overwhelmed by what you’re supposed to do, you push your body back again Jake's. "Your action with #IamJake helped me, by the way.For that I thank you and say thank you to Lilly.That means a lot to me." he murmurs. "Jake, all these people, they don’t know you, and they’re behind you. Behind you and me, behind Hannah. Please, Jake, come back to me." "MC...I’m sorry, I can’t" Jake’s voice sounds desperate. Just like yours, you’re desperate, you don’t know what to do. There’s only one logical reaction for you before you let him go again. Now all you have to do is hope everything goes well. Breath in, breath out. Without warning you put your hand on the mask and pull it up only so far that you get to Jake’s lips. You quickly stand on your toes, reach for the collar of his jacket and pull him down to you. Before he has a chance to move, you press your lips on his. If only you could see his reaction now, his face. Or maybe read his mind. A flood of happiness hormones is spreading through your body. Even if Jake doesn’t move, this is the best moment of your life. His lips feel soft, soft and perfect for yours. If you haven’t been in love by that point, you’ll be in love by now. This sad conversation was perfect in your eyes, even if it was sad, it was with Jake. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you break away from him. God, did you really do that? Why you do that? You see the kiss as a kind of goodbye to him and you just want to get out of here, away from this place. You didn’t know if he wanted to. In addition, he had a mask on. Actually, that should be reason enough not to kiss someone. Before you can run,Jake grabs your wrist and before you can react, you feel his lips on yours this time.

He’s kissing you now.

HE KISSES YOU.

HE KISSES YOU!

Quickly he pulls his head away. You look at him, the mask is gone, he holds it in his hand. "God damn it," you murmur and wrap your arms around his neck. Desperately, you kiss him again. Desperate to see him next time, whether you’ll ever see him again. Whether he will be free or whether his persecutors will catch him. You don’t know all that things, and you don’t know how to go on, how you can ever live normally. Yes, quite dramatically to think like that but this boy has something about himself that immediately captured and fascinated you. But what you just said about the best moment of your life was a lie. This is the most beautiful moment in your life. Because this time, you both want it, without being surprised by the other, you kiss like there’s no next day. As if all you have is this brief moment between you, this moment of uncertainty about the future, about everything. Because actually, this has been your life for months, but you love it, you love the people you’ve met. Hell, even Lilly made you like her.

You have become a team, and Jake is also part of that team.

You were like a family, and right now you’re planning on moving to Duskwood as fast as you can. You want to live here, with your friends, with the best friends you can have, they’re so different, but they’re still the same. You want to live here, with Jessy, with Cleo, with Richy, with Dan, with Thomas, with Lilly, also with Hannah, and of course with Jake. You knew from that moment that is the best decision of your life would be. A life full of joy, happiness and great people around you until you’re old, and even then. As in a book "To Death and Much More" But this is not a book but the real life, the life where you’re kissing a man who’s perfect for you in your eyes. Your lips move perfectly to each other as if it were the only thing you ever did, the only thing that ever counted. Admittedly, you didn’t expect Jake to be able to kiss so well.That sounds mean, but he seems to have been lonely the last years. Even if it took you a while to kiss, you are breaking away from each other far too quickly. You feel drunk, whether it’s alcohol or the kiss, you don’t know, but probably both. Your knees tremble from the adrenaline flowing through your veins. Your heart is racing and your hands are shaking easily. "Tomorrow at the motel. Please ask Lilly to find a solution where we will not be seen. And be careful the rest of the evening, and please stop drinking so much alcohol. I taste the tequila." Without waiting for your answer, he turns around and disappears towards darkness. He puts the mask back on while running. Like in a movie, a car gets hit and makes a full stop right in front of Jake. He opens the door, gets in, closes the door again and the car drives on. And again, you’re standing there with your mouth open, staring at Jake. "Oh, my God" you hear a woman say. Your head turns in the direction of the voice, you look into Jessy’s eyes. She stares at you and holds a hand in front of her mouth.She seems to be more shocked than you. You’re being stared at by all your friends standing next to Jessy and just as overwhelmed as you are. Right, Dan wanted to come after 20 minutes to see if everything was okay. Like trapped in a dream, you turn your head back to the spot where Jake stood with the car seconds ago. Jessy comes running at you. "Was that HE?" she asked immediately. "MC’s all right with you?" you hear Dan worried. They keep asking you things, but you just can’t answer. "Tomorrow at the motel," you hear Jake’s voice in your head. Jessy waves her hand in front of your face to get your attention. "Tomorrow at the motel," you hear his voice again. "MC Hello? Can you hear me?" "Shit, tomorrow at the motel, but what time?" you call out. "MC talk to us now" Lilly begs. "Lilly I need to talk to you! You need to give me a motel room.Is there a back entrance? Where someone can come into the building secretly? A hidden room? I’m also satisfied with a storage room" the words just flow out of you.

"Um, yeah?" Lilly looks at you confused.

"Okay, I need a plan, explain the way, and best time, do you have to work tomorrow?"

"No, I have free time, but tomorrow, Miss Walter will be there. And since the body appeared and Hannah is gone, we have almost no guests. Nobody wants to go to Duskwood at the moment" she explains. "That’s perfect, okay, explain to me how to get in without anyone seeing you" you demand.

"Tell us what happened first" Jessy tries to make you talk.

"MC, that was Jake, wasn’t it?" Dan calmly asks you.

"Yes, yes, he was, and I’ll meet him tomorrow" you said excitedly. No one say a word. Jessy has hiccups. "You’ll have sex tomorrow" she giggles. At the same time as Lilly, you call Jessy’s name as a warnin, she just twitches her shoulders and drinks a sip her glass. You are sighing. "Dan? I need a glass of whiskey now"

I hope you enjoyed it🎭🌹.

Masterlist

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #everbyte studios #duskwood jake #duskwood Jake x player #duskwood Jake x mc #everbyte game #everbyte duskwood #duskwood fanfiction

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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

Text

.eps (cut)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: this version of the epilogue is the 'clean cut' - there's a good chunk of it missing but it's not particularly important to the story. if you want to read the EXPLICIT version, there should be another one uploaded at the same time. (sorry, this is scheduled so i don't have the link yet lol)

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

You stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walk into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Placing the body into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale. Off to the woods, where you buried your first love. In a town where not everyone who dies leaves.

The drive to and from the place was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and go straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?��

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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themarvellouswriter · 4 years ago

Text

TEAR YOU APART

DAMON SALVATORE X DARK HYBRID! FEM! READER

Summary: The reader is Niklaus Mikaelson’s full sister, an Original hybrid. Having known the older Salvatore brother in the 1920s, she finds herself erasing his memory of them together before disappearing with her siblings. Time skip to the present, she is back in Mystic Falls and eager to take back what was hers.

Genres: Smut, angst and overall darkness. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 21 AND/OR EASILY TRIGGERED.

Words: 6.1k

Notes: This is dark and talks about killing nearly the entire group of the Mystic Falls kids. Not going to lie, you will not like this fic if you like that gang. Set in S2 near the end. Major canon divergence. Also, not beta read.

Warnings: 21+ Dub Con. Non Con. Character Death. Swearing. Blood. Gore. A mildly toxic relationship. Death mentions. Murder. Lots of torture. Maiming. Possessiveness. Blood play. Ugly, ugly jealousy. Emotional manipulation. This is bad, traumatic stuff I’m warning you in advance.

Present Day

Y/N smirked to herself as she walked towards the Mystic Grill. Klaus and her plan to break the Moonstone curse was going along swimmingly. They had all the ingredients for the spell. A vampire, a werewolf and a doppelgänger. They needed two of each just to be on the safer side so she’d found another, Tom Avery, Stefan’s doppelgänger. Although it would be a shame to kill such a pretty face, this was for the greater good. It was much easier to find werewolves. Vampires could always be made so that was nothing to worry about.

She walked inside and took a seat at the bar, knowing it was about time that Damon would show up for their nightly sessions. She’d allowed herself a small victory in knowing that she had compelled him to forget about her as soon as their time was up. He would remember everything all in due time but for now she would reassure herself in the feeling of tearing everyone apart. For the greater good of course. All for the greater good.

She hears his familiar footsteps as he sits down next to her after ordering his drink. She gives him a smile, aware of all the prying eyes on them. “You look lovely as always, pretty one.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “I know, sweetheart. And you’re a nutcase. And this is coming from me.” She looks at him amused. “And what makes you say that?” “You’ve been making and killing vampires for sport all week. How the hell do you expect me to look at you like you’re not the deranged psychopathic bitch you are?” She shrugs slightly, standing up. “Never denied it. Come on now, lover. Things to be done before daybreak.” He looks at her incredulously, sipping his drink. “You’re going to let a big bad vampire be alone with you?” “I keep forgetting nobody knows that I’m an Original. It’s adorable really.” She gives him a charming smile as she compels him. “Get up and follow me outside in a few.” She quickly leaves after paying her tab because she was nice that way. She found herself on the roofs, easily jumping here and there. Getting Damon alone was harder than you’d think. Always the centre of the crowd and enjoying the people around him. That was one of the first things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

Chicago, 1922

Leaving her siblings and their new friend Stefan Salvatore in a separate corner of their speakeasy, Y/N made her way to the dark, curly haired man sitting at the bar and flirting with the women flocking around him. He was extremely good looking, she’d give him that and the way he held everyone’s attention was fascinating.

She walked up to him, dismissing the other patrons with a wave of her hand and giving him a charming smile. “Y/N Mikaelson.” “Damon Salvatore.” He gave her a quick once over, noting that she was one of the three people who were drinking with his brother. Her eyes sparkle in delight. “I’m assuming that the handsome Ripper there is your brother?” He rolls his eyes. “It’s pretty obvious that I’m hotter one. And saner too, vampire. Not that its any of your business since you’re one of the people corrupting him.” She lets out a soft laugh. “You love the corruption otherwise you’d have done something about it by now.” She leaned in close to him, brushing her thumb over his sharp cheekbones and looking into his eyes. “Such a pretty thing. So fragile too.” She grins, moving away. “It’s late, isn’t it? Walk me back to my house please. It is quite unladylike to be wandering about the city alone.” He blinks, slightly taken aback by her behaviour, not used to being left speechless with such sudden change in one’s actions. “Right. I’m sure a vampire like you can take of yourself.” Her grin widens. “Of course. But I insist.” He finds himself getting to his feet and holding out an arm for her. The second she pressed herself into his side, letting him escort her back to the Mikaelsons’ residence, he felt a sudden surge of warmth and protectiveness as he looked at her. She was different and something told him that time with her would be unforgettable. Unusual but he didn’t feel like he minded. She stopped outside the door pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and promising that she would be seeing him again soon as she left him standing outside looking vaguely unsure about what had happened.

Present Day

Y/N turned around and grinned at Damon’s face as he approached her, his guard up. “You should remember everything now, lover.” She says once she’s sure that they’re alone. His eyes glaze over before zeroing in on her. She nearly tackled him, throwing herself into his arms. “I don’t like her touching you.” He buries his nose in her hair, sighing softly. “Me neither, Y/N. I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.” She looks at him sceptically. “I told you. I need to break the curse so I can take control of my full power.” He sighs again. “You’re perfect for me, I don’t want any of this. We could go run away together and never look back.” She shakes her head, growing irritated. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not in the mood to do it again. It’s for the greater good.” He rolls his eyes. “You and your greater good. I want you, not your wild agendas.” She hits his shoulder lightly. “You get all of me.” “I am painfully aware Y/N. This needs to be over fast.” “It will be done in a few weeks. I promise.” “And then I want you to tell me why you ran from me in Chicago and why you compelled me to forget you.” “All in due time lover. I sense that you’re being missed by the little Gilberts. You should leave now that they need their little baby sitter.” “When will I see you you again?” “When I break the curse of course. I won’t let you or Stefan be sacrificed. You’re too good for this world.” “I disagree. I’m a big, bad vampire who eats puppies for breakfast.” She snorts, cupping his face to kiss him deeply. “Cute. You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone, including you, knows it. Now go and forget who I am to you.” She promises, her voice laced with bitterness as she puts the compulsion back in place. She gives him one last, slightly forced smile before disappearing into the night, leaving him alone wondering what he was doing there before heading back to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She finds him alone a few days later, cornering him in the woods as he fed from a poor soul. She smirked coldly as she saw him drop the half dead, withering human to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth. “You always did look better with blood over you.” “Honestly Y/N it’s like you’re following me around.” Her mood sours at his words. “You’ve been kissing and declaring your love for the doppelgänger. I don’t like it so that’s why I’m keeping a close eye on you.” He doesn’t bat an eye. “I do love her. Elena is a beautiful soul once you get to know her.” She clenches her jaw, wrapping her fingers around his neck and slamming him into a tree. “You don’t. Because the only one you’re allowed to love is me.” He raises an eyebrow, not fighting back. “I love you too but with Elena it’s different. I’m never going to get her.” “That’s right. It’s different because you need to stay away from her. If I see you even look at her like you do all tenderly, you’re not going to like what I do to you.” “Ooh, kinky.” He manages to say. Her grip on his throat tightens as he tries to push her off of him in vain. She growls. “Stay the fuck away from her. You’re mine. Do I need to show you?” He feels his vision blur, if she went on like this she was going to end up killing him temporarily. “It has been decades since you showed me, hasn’t it?” She partially shifts, her fangs out as she glares at him, letting go of her grip on his neck and ripping off the front of his black shirt and shredding his jacket. “Fuck you, Damon Salvatore.” She snarls tossing the torn clothes aside and digging her fingers into his collarbones dragging them down to the waistband of his jeans, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake. He barely manages to control a soft moan at her actions. He enjoyed being used even though he would never admit it out loud but somehow she knew. She always knew what he wanted and what he didn’t and this was one of those times. “Y/N.” He whispered quietly. “Shut the hell up Salvatore.” She snapped back, getting on her knees and pulling down his jeans. “You need a reminder. You belong to me and I am not going take you pining over that daft bimbo of a doppelgänger like some sort of silent watcher.”

She traces a path up his thighs, marking his pale skin with her fangs, knowing they’d take a bit longer to heal because of her werewolf side. If he wanted to go out and flirt and kiss others in front of her, well she was going to make him regret everything. “I own you and you don’t have a say in anything I do to you.” Minus their safe-words of course. “Yes you do. And I love it when you get all demanding when I get around.” Her grip on his thigh tightens almost painfully, bruising his skin. “Did I or did I not tell you to shut up?” She hisses. “You might have mentioned it.” He says shrugging, trying not to get affected by the image of her kneeling in front of him, the moonlight hitting just right and making her glow in the darkness. Perfect features, sharp eyes, fangs dripping his blood and blood smeared fingers now wrapped around his length. “Are you going to shut up or do I need to remind you what happens when you don’t obey?” She hisses, slowly moving her hand up and down his hardening member and drawing out a long moan from him as he muttered profanities under his breath. “I’m sorry.” His voice came out rougher than he expected and her mouth twisted into a tight smile. “Beg. You know the drill don’t you, lover?” Her voice was sweet like she wouldn’t leave him all riled up and bleeding with no way to let out his tension. He nods, pulling her up to her feet and guiding her free hand to wrap around his neck and wrapping his arm around her waist his free hand sliding up her thigh. “I’m sorry that I did it. Nobody can ever replace you. You own me and I would do anything for you.” He looks at her in the eyes, meaning every word. She doesn’t say anything, silencing him with a sloppy kiss and licking the blood away from his mouth. She increased the pace of her ministrations bringing him closer and closer to the edge, the barely breathing human lying forgotten next to them. He moaned against her skin, her name falling like prayer from his lips as he finally came undone in her hand, chest heaving with the exertion and face flushed as he looked her.

She kissed him once again before stepping away. “Finish the blood bag will you. I don’t like moving food.” She says nonchalantly, licking her fingers. He stares at her, half indignant as he comes down from his high. “You’re seriously not going to let me fuck you?” She tuts disapprovingly. “After the ritual. And you still have to make up to me for messing around with the doppelgänger.” He sighs, pulling up the trembling body and ripping the head clean off and throwing it at her feet before licking off the blood dripping down the neck. She gives him a placating smile. “You would’ve had you not declared your undying love for her. And here we are. I will see you in three days under the full moon.” She says flatly, ignoring the hurt in his expression as she walked away, the compulsion falling back into place as she disappears from sight. He looks down at the body horrified and then at his shredded clothes and then the blood still pouring from the thin lines over his chest, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he’d somehow become a ripper and then forgotten all about it. He shakily made his way back to the Salvatore Boarding House in the early hours of the morning after burying the body. He was still shaking as he curled up in his bed, ignoring Stefan and Elena who were talking in hushed whispers about his odd behaviour. He was missing hours from his memory and he had no clue how it was possible, he’d made sure to stay away from all Originals but somehow it was affecting him and his sanity. His thoughts plagued him as he slowly drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

The witch, Greta Martin, had started doing the spell. The two vampires, a freshly turned Jenna and Katherine, the two werewolves, Jules and Tyler, and the two doppelgängers, Elena and Tom. Y/N resisted the urge to laugh. They’d thought they needed one of each but they didn’t know that two curses were going to be broken tonight. Bonnie Bennett and the younger Gilbert, Jeremy or whatever his name was, along with a few measly humans, Matt and something or the other, and Caroline were working on a way to save everyone. But there was no saving anyone when the Mikaelsons had decided they were going to die.

Stefan Salvatore was such a noble soul, bless his little heart, wanting to replace Jenna with himself. Y/N and Niklaus exchanged amused smiles before compelling him to watch the ritual and see them shift into their wolf forms. They had just removed the hearts of the wolves and staked the vampires when a slightly pale faced Damon appeared, trying to call off the ritual. Feeling a sudden surge of anger at the hold the annoying doppelgänger had on the brothers, Y/N pulled her towards herself and sank her teeth into her neck, draining her of all her blood as the Salvatores watched her in a mix of rage and horror as she dropped her body to the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and looking at them pointedly. Niklaus had killed Tom and was waiting for the rest of the spell to finish when Bonnie stepped in from the trees and Damon used her appearance to his advantage to snap the witch’s neck, ending the spell. The Mikaelsons let out a scream of barely controlled fury and pain as Bonnie used her magic to fling them both against the trees. The older Salvatore didn’t even look twice at Y/N, cradling Elena’s limp body as she stirred, Bonnie’s spell having resurrected her.

Y/N felt smug satisfaction as Bonnie’s strength waned after holding two Originals in place and performing an extremely powerful spell to swap lives. Ripping free from her spell she slowly got to her feet, resisting the urge to shift and run around like Niklaus had done. Now was her chance to make them suffer. And suffer they would. She marched up to a surprised Bonnie, pulling her heart out as she fell to the ground, immediately dead. She gave Stefan an icy glare before yanking Damon away from Elena who was staring up at him wide eyed and slack jawed. “God. How I hate your pathetic family. Your line has brought nothing but bad news for my brothers, always fighting over Tatia or Katerina and now your stupid ass.” She spits out before turning to face Damon. “You absolute dumbass, so many warnings I have to give to stay away from her and yet you follow her around like a puppy.” She grips his face, making him look into her eyes. “Stay and watch and I want to hear you scream while I show you what I do to people who I hate.” Her gaze flicks over to Stefan. “You too Stefan, my sister doesn’t take kindly to cheaters.”

Damon stands, unable to move as he watches Y/N practically lose it. “Stop all your crazy, woman. You lost.” She lets out a cold laugh, caressing his face and making him look at Elena’s terrified face. “You know I never lose, lover. You’ve seen me kill way too many people.” She murmurs in his ear, making sure everyone could hear her. She pulls Elena up to her feet, defiant till the last minute. “Go to hell, Y/N.” “Been there done that sweetheart, where do you think I came from?” She practically purrs, slowly almost lovingly, biting her neck again. “You’re so lucky we need your blood. I know so many ways to get all of it.” She says against her skin as the Salvatores watch her, revolted. She maintains eye contact with Damon as she drags the kicking and screaming doppelgänger to the altar and shoving her down on the ground, hearing a satisfying crack as her spine shattered at the force. Y/N looked at Damon, eyebrow raised. “She’s paralysed now. Still want this fragile, useless creature? Pathetic.” She crushes her left knee under her heel as Elena screams loudly. She looks at her irritated, compelling her to stay quiet. “Shut up. I want to hear my love scream as I break you. You’re not going to die yet. But you’ll wish you were dead I assure you.” She promises. She kicks her arms above her head as she breaks her shoulders. Damon feels tears come to his eyes as watches the scene unfold before him. The woman he loved get tortured by a deranged Mikaelson. Y/N looks at him inwardly delighted. “Crying so soon D? I haven’t even started yet. The human body has 206 bones. I’ve only broken about eight so far.” She says thoughtfully turning her attention back to Elena’s trembling form. “Stop. Please. I can’t watch anymore.” She pretends to think for a moment, playing with her fingers. “Hmm. I don’t think so.” She harshly breaks them, twisting them in odd angles as tears stream down the doppelgänger’s face.

Damon looks away before turning to glare at her, eyes blazing. “I’m going to kill you myself.” “Good luck sweetheart.” She says unbothered, breaking her elbow and bending it at an awkward angle. “Now all you have to do is wait for a few hours.” She says thoughtfully, pulling out her phone to text another witch to come and drain Elena of her blood in front of Damon. She stretches, pulling off her jacket and tossing it at him before turning to Stefan. “Sleep. You can wake up when I turn back.” Stefan falls to the ground, unmoving and limp. Damon seethes in his place, trying to force himself to break out of the compulsion and tear Y/N apart with his bare hands. Unfortunately, the affects of the werewolf bite were starting to get to him and with the pain, emotional trauma of watching Elena get tortured in front of him was too much. Y/N stripped down to nothing, walking over to him and running her hands down his chest as he let out a low, guttural growl at her actions, trying to back away. She laughs, blood dripping down her chin and running down her chest, distracting him from his previous thoughts. This was not supposed to be attractive! He was supposed to despise her and kill her for hurting the people he cared about, albeit grudging care. She noticed his gaze and smirked, slightly shaking her head. “Even compelled...” He tears his eyes from her body, turning the full force of his glare towards her. “I hate you.” He says bitterly. “No, you don’t, lover. As punishment for your idiocy, you have to watch her die in excruciating pain.” She says sweetly, as if offering him a treat. She ruffles his hair affectionately. “I am just anticipating the angry sex after this. Beautiful.” She takes a few steps away, falling to her hands and knees as the change begins. And then nothing as she tears off into the darkness leaving Damon to watch Elena slowly die as the new witch came to drain her, Stefan lying near him, unmoving.

He was shaking, livid and in so much pain. As much as he wanted to stop watching Elena slowly die in front of him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, feeling his heart shatter as he started to hallucinate because of the bite, feeling his fangs come out against his will. The Sun had risen, Elena’s breathing laboured and her mouth forming words, reassurances but not a sound coming out. It would be so easy to just flip the switch. Not feel anything ever again. He tightly shut his eyes, trying to block everything out when he felt a warm palm pressed against his back. Y/N. He was so ready to kill her or die trying. She was standing beside him, chin resting against his shoulder as she watched Elena slowly ebb away. It was a downright miracle that she was still alive. “I admire your tenacity doppelgänger. But unfortunately, it’s not going to help you today.” She says, ruffling Damon’s hair who flinched from her touch. “See, pretty one? This is what happens when you disobey.” She murmurs, cutting open her wrist and holding it to his mouth, forcing him to drink her blood, healing him. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed, kneeling beside Elena and feeding her some of her blood to prolong her life, feeling his angry gaze on her back as she snapped all the broken bones in place. She turned around to give him a soft smile. “Come on now, lover. Don’t you want to see what she feels like? Like you’ve been aching for her touch?”

He takes reluctant steps towards them, looking pleadingly at Elena who swayed on her feet. “Don’t move now doppelgänger. I’m not done yet.” Y/N’s voice comes out sharp and demanding as she compels her. “See, I’ve known the Salvatores since the 20s and the things we got up to would make your toes curl. And since they met you and your little Team Save Elena, they’ve grown soft and it’s revolting to see such uselessness from two of the most feared killers in history.” She continues, ignoring both of them as she examined her nails in the early morning light.

“You know nothing about me.” Damon hisses, finally snapping having had enough of the Mikaelsons and their mind games. “Oh, but I do, lover. I know you want adventure, that’s why you’re still here in front of me. You like to rebel. You want mystery, passion, romance and a lot of danger.” She smiles easily, brushing away the blood from his lips. “If I thought you were a weakling, I would have let you die a hundred years ago.”

Chicago, 1922

Y/N and Damon were dancing together in the speakeasy, having grown close over the past few months. They twirled around in the room, unable to take their eyes off of each other. Rebekah, Niklaus and Stefan were drinking blood together in a hidden booth. Damon smiled affectionately at her. “You’re really something Y/N and you fascinate me like nobody else.” She laughs, giving him a cheeky kiss. “Do you think so, lover? I’ve been around a long time and you’re still so young.” He grins, shaking his head. “I don’t think you can say that after the little Ripper fest we enjoyed in the church last night. And you looked so pretty covered in blood and screaming my name as I fucked you in the confessional.” He murmurs against her skin, hands firmly resting on her hips, holding her tightly against him. “That was nice. The thing you did with the pastor after taking me on the altar was lovely. I was quite into that.” She agrees, letting out a dreamy sigh. “Sadly the cover-ups are a bit annoying.” He hums in response but before he can say anything the speakeasy erupts into fearful screams. Y/N watches the human and vampire patrons get staked around her, afraid for the first time in a long time. She pulls Damon to the floor beside her as panicked people try to escape, huddling together against the wall. When he meets her eyes, he sees barely controlled fear which surprises him greatly. “Y/N. Do you know the hunters?” “The hunter is an Original vampire. And my father.” She says quietly as bodies fall around them, the screams reaching a fever pitch. “You need to run. Be safe. I’ll find you I promise.” She murmurs, tightening her grip on him. “No. I’m not leaving you. I love you Y/N. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He cups her face before kissing her gently. She gives him a forced grin, “I know. I love you too. And I need you safe.” She looks into his eyes, her heart breaking as she compels him to forget her till she says he can remember her again. She presses a soft kiss to his forehead, standing up and escaping the building with her siblings. She’s the last one out, watching Damon from the shadows. She smiles to herself as he pulls out a wayward stake from his shoulder as he runs out, unknowingly in her direction. Knowing the stakes were poisoned with werewolf venom, she pulled him into the dark alcove she was hiding in and pressed her bleeding wrist to his mouth wordlessly, making sure he couldn’t see her face. “Run far away, pretty one. Stay safe till I find you again.” She whispers before disappearing into the night with her siblings.

Present Day

Elena stares at Y/N, terrified about what was she was going to do. As if reading her mind, a cold, cruel smile graced her features. “I’m not going to do anything to you doppelgänger. This one, the one you’ve been playing with all year, is going to be tearing you apart.” Her eyes widen in shock as she tries to speak. Damon vehemently shakes his head, “I’m not going to do ANYTHING you say.” She tuts. “You don’t have a choice, lover. Now, tell me what you like about her, wrong answer and our dear Elena loses an organ.” He grits his teeth trying to force the words back. “Her kindness and the love she has for everyone.” “Wrong. I think we should start with the kidneys. Take the left one out please.” He watches in horror as his hand rises of its own accord, sinking into her body and pulling out a bloody kidney. Elena doubles over at the loss before Y/N compels her to stand properly and not move at all. “Next. Continue.” “The way she thinks everyone can be saved.” “Wrong again. The small intestine should do nicely. Pull it out.” Dread had properly set in as he shut his eyes, pulling out the organ and dropping the long, snake like thing on the grass. “Hmm… I’m not enjoying this as much as I should.” She muses before brightening up. “You can scream now Elena, I don’t mind.” Looking just the faintest bit relieved, she lets out an ear piercing scream as her body begins to shut down to deal with the intense blood and organ loss. Damon lets out a barely audible whimper at the sound, hating Y/N more than he thought possible.

It goes on for what feels like hours as she makes him pull out all her organs one by one till the ground is just a pile of different bloody body parts and bones. Her heart lies on top of the pile, right above her crumpled form. Damon is shaking, body racked with pained sobs as he looks at the sight in front of him. Y/N presses herself against his back, playing with his belt loops and palming him gently through his jeans. “See, lover? Can you blame a girl for doing this to get her man to stay loyal to her?” “I am not your man. I will never be yours.” He says bitterly, rage fuelling him as numbness sets in. “I’d like you to remember everything that happened in the twenties. It is now time.” She says calmly, looking into his eyes.

He feels a sudden flood of memories come to him from a century ago, he drops to his knees overwhelmed by the intensity. He realises that whatever he had felt for Elena was nothing as compared to what he felt for Y/N. She was everything to him, his everything. If he had her, he didn’t need anything else. She was perfection personified and he loved her like nobody else. But the amount of emotional trauma she had inflicted on him was not going to be brushed off so easily. It was a weird dynamic they had but it worked well for them.

He gets to his feet, thoughts organized for what felt like the first time in forever and glared at her. She merely smiled in response. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, lover?” He snarls throwing her against a tree, ignoring the bodies around them, hearing a satisfying grinding sound as the tree cracked under her weight. She let out a soft groan, her back getting scratched up and her nose starting to drip blood. She gives him a feral smile, wiping the blood off. “There he is. Are you going to fuck me now for giving you so much crap? For playing with your emotions and making you cry over some stupid chick you don’t care about?” She says, taunting him with her words. He takes the bait, pining her against the tree, holding her wrists above her head and forcing apart her legs with his knee. “Do not fuck with me like this again or I will leave you.” He threatens. Feeling incredibly turned on, she nods. “I’m not letting you go ever again. You’re mine.” “And you have to stop strutting around naked all the time, it is incredibly distracting.” He murmurs, biting her neck and drinking her blood. “I was making a point.” She manages to say in between soft moans as he rubs his free hand right where she needed him. “Point made. None of that anymore or I’m going to tie you up and leave you in the basement alone and begging for me.” She nods vigorously. “Yes, yes of course. Now just stop talking and fuck me properly.” “You’re so lucky that I’ve missed holding you that I’m not going to take my time like I usually do. Later today, you’re going to show me what you’ve been doing all this time without me.” He says pulling off his clothes and throwing them away haphazardly. “Of course I will.” She promises, tugging him towards her and curling her fingers in his hair as she kisses him roughly. “Good girl.” He whispers appreciatively, digging his fingers into her hips, hoisting her up higher against the tree and pushing his entire length into her in one go. He doesn’t give her time to adjust before he ruthlessly begins to thrust into her, silencing her moans by kissing her again. She feels heady with desire, enjoying the feeling of him all around her after literal decades of waiting. “You feel so good, lover.” She murmurs against his skin. “Next time in the Fell’s church for old time’s sake?” “Maybe I’ll gag you then. You’ve started talking too much.” He muses, letting out a breathy moan of her name as she clenches her walls around him, close to the edge. “Then you won’t be able to hear me call your name as I climax, would you?” “I’d still be making you scream when I cut you up with those daggers of yours dipped in wolfsbane.” “I missed you and your sadism.” She gasps out after a particularly hard thrust, the bark tearing her back and waves of pain mixing with the pleasure he was providing her. And he felt so good as he pounded into her, leaving rapidly healing bites over her neck and chest and licking off her blood. She finally reaches her peak burying her head in the crook of his neck to stifle her broken moans. He doesn’t let up as he overstimulates her, feeling himself close to the edge. “Again. Come for me again.” He growls, gently nipping her ear lobe and kissing her jaw. She trembles in his arms not yet used to the heightened feelings that came with being a proper hybrid. She tightens her grip on his hair drawing out a pleased moan from him as he finally climaxes, her following shortly after. She slumps weakly in his arms as they exchange lazy kisses, recovering from their highs. She rests her head against his shoulder as her back heals itself.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N spots Caroline, Matt, Jeremy and Alaric staring at the bloody scene in front of them in a mix of fear, shock, repulsion and horror. She smirks, unlatching herself from Damon and speaking up for everyone to hear. “Well Damon, I think it’s time we send the rest where the others are?” He gives her a feral grin as he pulls on his underwear and runs a bloodstained hand through his hair. “For the greater good.” He agrees.

With that the duo launches themselves at the four taking them by surprise, tearing into them and killing them with relative ease. Y/N lets out an appreciative hum wiping the blood from her chin and kisses him again. “I enjoy it when we feed together. It’s a nice bonding activity.” “I enjoy our Ripper phases. Can’t believe I thought humans were worth keeping safe.” She gives him a smug smile. “Exactly my point. Now, back to the Mansion where you’re going to show me how much you love me and what all you’re willing to do for the greater good.” He laughs, picking her up bridal style before his gaze drifts to his brother. “Aren’t you going to wake Stef up?” “Yes, that. Rebekah should be here soon, she can take care of him.” She looks in the direction of the younger Salvatore. “Wake up and go to the Boarding House, Stefan dear.” She throws an arm around Damon’s neck before kissing him again. “The things we do for love.” “For love and for the greater good.” He gives her a soft smile, reserved only for her on rare occasions before kissing her softly. They quickly made their way to the Mansion where they spent the rest of the day in the throes of passion, marking each other as their one and only.

And what exactly what this greater good? Y/N’s happiness of course, no matter who came in the way or who got hurt in the process, her happiness was the most important.

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