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incorrectinfinity · 1 year

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I have been hinting at this for over a year now. Now it's finally here.

My full Timekeeper backstory

Buckle up mother fuckers

(ALSO REBLOGS ARE REALLY REALLY APPRECIATED THIS TOOK SO LONG)

Extra Info

Setting: around ~1940's time period technology and style wise, Croissant at this point has no idea what the TBD is but is a plane mechanic training on becoming a pilot. She lives in California (RIP/j) and is friends with Hero Cookie and has a crush on Sandwich Cookie (could be anyone else if you don't like the ship), they're all in their mid twenties. String Gummy Cookie doesn't even exist yet to the story btw.

Info you need to know: the Blessing of Time is what I call Timekeeper's yellow eye thing. You can get it if your eye gets vulnerable to the vacuum of time and you have Time's favor. If you don't you can get blinded (in some cases temporarily others not), spared, or lost to Time itself, think of that like being sucked in a black hole. Once you get Blessed once you cannot get Blessed again (if you get one eye only you can't get the other). The Blessing provides the ability to open time portals and do time blinks without tools. It's special abilities are immunity from time paradoxes and the ability to escape time pockets. Also if you learn it's power well enough you can learn how to stop aging, neat stuff. It affects other physical aspects like causing rapid hair growth or hair yellowing if there is prolonged exposure. Also you can see every timeline at once, which is a bit overwhelming, but you can learn to control and ignore it over time.

Time Infection is a symptom that occurs when a recent/open injury is exposed to a time vacuum. It hurts like hell but instantly seals the injury which can prevent blood loss. It looks like the thing on Ruler's face (or Timebreaker's arm). It has a small chance of spreading beyond the initial injury over time but it is incredibly rare.

Part 1: Croissant Cookie

Croissant was just living their life, building and repairing a variety of aircrafts, getting the hang of piloting controls when it happened.

Boredom.

Every day felt the same, nothing felt special. It was just day in, day out, time passing on as they moved along with it. Sometimes things would change up, like maybe Hero would visit and give them suggestions. Maybe they would go to Sandwich's shop after work. Maybe Cosmos Gear would spill oil on the ground and change up their routine a bit. But those joys and struggles merely made the feeling of monotony come back stronger.

It was agony.

Nothing mattered, even when they got their piloting license, it was just another thing prolonging the inevitable.

That is until Croissant tried something new. They used some of Hero's advice and ideas and changed them up a bit. Nothing special really, anyone could've done it. But it was *something* new.

It was barely anything, a simple pet project. A car that could move without the use of gas!

They finally decided to test it....

And found themself in 1972.

Part 2: Something New

After realizing they had no idea what had happened, they calmly parked the car (which looked like nothing compared to the ones that they saw on the street around them), turned off the motor, and LOST THEIR MIND. Where were they!? What had happened!? Why did everything look so weird!?

After their crisis they decided to look for answers. They passed by a newspaper stand and found a clue, November 23rd 1972. Thirty years in the future. They bought the newspaper, which seemed awfully expensive, and tried to get some sort of clue of what was going on. None. They went back to their car and found it surrounded by strange people. They walked up to them, and immediately got arrested. Oops.

They were still just trying to grasp a sense of what the hell was going on when they were questioned. They were informed that they accidentally built a time machine, they were in the custody of a facility that prevented time anomalies called the TBD, and that they had a choice to make.

Go back to their life knowing what the TBD was and be under surveillance by them to be sure that their existence is kept secret.

Or join them as a mechanic, have access to their old life but keep the TBD secret all the same. But, if they do tell anyone the consequences would be more dire.

Old life of monotony or new life of excitement, it was barely even a choice.

Part 3: The TBD

To say it was a learning curve would be one hell of an understatement. There were new guidelines, new people, new everything! If was overwhelming, stressful, scary, and the best moments of Croissant's life. With the unknown brought experience, with the people brought friendships, with the new brought exhilaration. Hero and Sandwich just thought they had a hell of a promotion, the kind of stuff that requires secrecy. Life was good.

After a few months they finally got a rhythm in their work, a sense of how the TBD operated. It was like a machine, the separate parts seem to make little sense, but when put together all were necessary.

They learned about history, past and future, they learned about the beginning, the Millennial Tree, the Great Dragon of the Future, a web of mystical beings that balanced the flow of time. The magic hidden in every day life!

Eventually they built up enough confidence to go back to their first time craft.

The "car" hadn't been touched in months, the poor thing had so much potential and now Croissant was ready to bring it there.

Their old pet project was coming back from the dead.

Part 4: Rebuild

When they weren't at work they worked on their pet project. If they weren't doing that they were with Hero and/or Sandwich. There was so much excitement they could barely even sleep. There was always something exciting to get into, always something new!

But one day, something changed.

Sandwich had asked to talk to them, in private. She confessed that she'd developed feelings for them over time, and that even if they didn't end up together she wanted to be honest about how she felt. To say Croissant was excited wouldn't cover it. They said that they felt the same way, and their relationship grew from there.

Life continued on. Over time Croissant felt bad about keeping the truth from Sandwich, and finally asked upper management if they could tell her, and at this point Croissant had shown that they were an integral part of the TBD and a very trustworthy employee, so they agreed.

Sandwich obviously questioned this but eventually believed them after being shown some evidence. She had to adjust to it a bit but eventually she just kinda accepted it and agreed to keep the TBD hidden.

Croissant was still working hard on their own projects, after calling the time craft done they decided to move on to a more comfortable pair of goggles for the TBD employees to wear. An easier project than an entire time craft but still important! After prototyping and experimenting for a few weeks they finally had a working model, now it was just time to test it.

Part 5: Blessed

The test went well!

Of course trying it out in a time void wasn't the only thing they had to do to make sure they worked well, but still! A working prototype was very handy. After another few weeks it was time for the final test.

It was just like normal, it worked well! And then it happened, a lense cracked.

Exposure.

They lost conscious immediately.

This was it, they were done. They were going to be ripped to shreds, spread across time, remain separated until the sun combusts, and be in conscious agony the entire time. Their hubris had finally caught up with them. Their endless desire for more in life brought about their end. Kind of poetic if you think-- wait they were alive.

Their auto emergency response in their aircraft turned on and brought them to their home timeline.

They woke up crashed in an empty field. At least they think they did. They couldn't tell. Not because they couldn't see, but because they could see everything.

Every possible outcome that could spawn from where they layed. Some where they had died, some where they got up immediately with nothing but a few injuries, some still where they were still unconscious, some where they looked incredibly different, and some where they weren't in the crash site at all. They stayed in that field for a long time, everything was happening and everything was visible. They saw beautiful things, horrible things, impossible things. All at once.

They had achieved the Blessing of Time.

As they remained there, they thought about a lot of things. How they got here, how everything in their life had been foreseen how most of those things have resulted from incredible luck or insane coincidences. About how their attempts of control were meaningless. About how their life was meaningless.

They don't know when they lost consciousness again.

Part 6: New Normal

When they woke up they could see better They found themself in a TBD hospital, their time craft had set off an emergency beacon. Besides the Blessing, they only had minor physical injuries. Their craft was worse for wear but it still worked without much issue. Their exposed eye though, that's where things were strange.

Their brown iris turned yellow, their pupil was replaced with a swirl, their sclera was slightly red. Very much not normal. Croissant had to hide it, people would ask questions that they couldn't answer.

Hero would ask questions they couldn't answer.

The cookies at the TBD and Sandwich would be the only ones to know. It's for the best. They were given an eyepatch at the hospital, maybe they could make one of their own later.

When they were about to leave the hospital they were informed that they had been unconscious for three days, and nobody had been told where they were. Lovely.

They immediately went to go see Sandwich and explain what had happened. She had been understandably terrified when Croissant had been gone without a trace for three days, but she regained composure after Croissant explained what had happened. She still didn't fully understand what the Blessing meant or did, but to be fair nobody truly does. They told Hero that a stray bolt had shot out of an engine due to unregulated pressure and had hit them near enough to the eye that it'd mostly blinded it. He didn't ask many questions about the incident after.

Now it was about adjusting. They had two weeks off work (it was going to be a month but they cut it short themself) and they learned what affects the Blessing had on them. They felt constantly on edge, they sometimes lost control and had visions, they found it harder to sleep and eat, and overall it Wasn't Great. But after getting more and more used to it, they decided to test their new abilities.

It started with blinks, which they learned they could do on accident (they were walking in a hallway and then suddenly found themself on the roof). They figured out how to move certain distances and directions and soon they were barely even walking around their workshop. Then it was portals, not an accident. They had read about it many months ago and decided that there was no harm in trying it themself. They were harmed, of course.

It took longer to figure out than the blinks, but when they did they immediately lost consciousness, to add insult to injury it was barely even a portal, it was only around the size of a tennis ball. But they were ecstatic, they made a PORTAL. With their HAND. It was just another skill to learn and master.

All things considered, were ok. They took it slow. They were ready for things to go back to normal, and maybe they could. Hell, maybe even better than normal. They were alive against the odds, and they weren't letting their life go to waste.

Part 7: Promotion

[Two months later]

It had been a relatively good month, nothing had gone catastrophically wrong so far which was a good sign! The only thing they noticed is that that their hair was starting to look pale, but they accounted that to general stress.

This was the first period of time they'd had in a while where things could be described as "good." They saw less visions, had less accidental blinks, and their ability to open portals was improving with every attempt! They also learned to balance their work life with their personal life for the first time, like, ever so that was pretty nice. They had good relationships with the people at the TBD and their friendship with Hero had never been stronger, they were even talking about moving in with Sandwich.

And then, like all things do, it changed. Not for the better, not even for the worse, but things did change.

The Director retired. Croissant hadn't known them well but she seemed nice, if a bit eccentric. She had done a good job despite barely being there which had to be worth something.

But now it was time to pick a new Director, and to their surprise, Croissant was a candidate.

Croissant had no idea how that even happened,* but they had apparently applied weeks ago and it was too late to back out according to HR. Well then, ok. Croissant barely payed attention to the election, it was no use worrying about.

And then they won it.

They were the Director now. Yet another learning curve to conquer. They had the promotion of a lifetime, the only promotion they didn't want. But it was far too late to back out now.

Their TBD friends seemed to act more timid around them, it hurt. Hopefully it wouldn't be like that for long. They wouldn't be someone to be afraid of, they'd just be a person like everyone else. Trying to do the right thing like they'd been doing for what felt like thousands of years now. It was overwhelming and stressful but it was just one more thing to help evade the endless pit of monotony they fell into oh so long ago.

After a few days they gained a sort of rhythm. A different rhythm than the one they had before, but it was something. Croissant's life had taken such a sudden left turn they were practically grasping at straws at this point. Every new day brought upon a mountain of paper work to sort through, it felt like there was no time for anything. The balance they'd built had been thrown off, but it wasn't anything they hadn't seen before. Croissant might've been a position they didn't feel qualified for, but that's how they felt when they began at the TBD. They were determined to succeed.

And they did.

Miraculously they did, they regained control. It felt easy, almost too easy, just a bit of patience and a lot of learning, but they did it. With their balance regained, Croissant finally got to work on improving the TBD.

First of all, don't kidnap potential employees. That seemed like a no brainer.

Secondly, and this saw some push back, start to be more honest about the existence of the TBD. Allow employees to tell those closest to them the truth if they wanted to. Of course it would be regulated, you needed permission, but maybe that would make the TBD feel less like a secret government organization and more like a place of safety regulation instead, less intimidating.

But Croissant wasn't the only one who got a promotion. Sandwich had been making strides with her sandwich shop and even started talking about multiple locations! But there was something she was hiding, something that she didn't even think would happen, but it did.

She had received investments, big ones. With them she could open a shop out of state, it was an opportunity she couldn't give up.

The catch was that as her business moved, she moved with it. She had to move.

And it was finally time to tell the truth.

Part 8: The wave

Sandwich brought Croissant to the beach, somewhere beautiful. Somewhere neutral.

Sandwich told Croissant what had happened, most of which they already knew. They were as excited as Sandwich was, but then Sandwich confessed what she had kept from them. She had to leave, and she wanted to know if Croissant was willing to go with her, and they couldn't. Sandwich understood, but she also knew a romantic long distance was practically impossible for her.

Their romantic relationship was over.

And in the weeks that followed after Croissant lost their balance again. They began working more and more, ignoring other responsibilities. When Sandwich finally left, they said goodbye with Hero. In that moment, knowing that it was truly over, they felt a piece of them die.

They let work completely run their life. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. Sometimes they didn't even leave their office for days on end. Their hair became a pale yellow, it was longer than they'd ever had it before, but they didn't care enough to cut it. If Croissant couldn't take care of themself, they would take care of the TBD. That was their only priority. So they started working on something that could help them do it.

Months passed by, and at this point, the monotony that they had experienced so many years ago had began to creep back in. They barely left the TBD now, and someone had started getting especially worried.

Part 9: The inciting incident

Hero had been having it rough as of late. He had recently lost most of his arm forearm in a battle with Cyborg that nearly cost him his life, so he had to build a completely new one. He had to say goodbye to one of his closest friends, and his other friend... was in a "complicated headspace."

Hero Cookie hadn't even heard from Croissant in months. He had even heard from Sandwich that they hadn't responded to any of her telegraphs, which seemed especially strange. It was clear Croissant needed time to process, despite what they tried to tell him, but it had been a very long time. Croissant was the most reliable person he knew, the fact they'd ignored their friends for so long was concerning. So he decided to visit. He'd sent a letter saying when he'd come over, no response. Only more reason to go.

He arrived at their apartment and miraculously they were home, they never seemed to be home. The apartment itself had seen better days. There were papers everywhere, some with blueprints for machines that he could barely even process, others forgotten paperwork (that seemed pretty important). There were machine parts on the ground, like they'd dropped a box or something and didn't bother picking them up. And Croissant themself seemed undeniably... different.

Their hair was much longer than it was since he had last seen them, it was completely blonde, and instead of their classic braid it was held in two loose loops. And they answered the door without their eye covering. Hero had never seen anything like it, their iris was a golden color with a white swirl. Clearly not the result of a bolt.

They welcomed him in warmly, they didn't seem surprised to see him in the slightest. Hero thought that confirmed that they'd been purposely ignoring him and Sandwich's attempts of contacting them, Croissant was hiding from both of them.

They both sat on the couch and Croissant immediately began the small talk. Something felt off. They seemed almost too eager to lead the conversation, which seemed didn't really feel like something that would be out of the ordinary. It was something about how they talked that seemed almost scripted, like they'd been practicing. That was when Hero noticed the letter he sent on a table, completely unopened, barely even touched.

How did they know that he'd be there?

That's when he took control of the conversation.

Where had they been? Why were they ignoring their friends? What the hell happened to their eye? What were these blueprints? What was their secret job?

And after a long pause, they answered them all truthfully.

Working. They didn't matter. They were Blessed. A personal project. They were the director of the Time Balance Department.

That only left Hero with more questions than answers, so Croissant elaborated.

They had been lying to him for years, they were not a pilot or a mechanic in the traditional sense. They specialized in "time crafts," machines that can withstand the void of time and were powerful enough to open time portals. The Blessing was a side effect of eye exposure in a time vacuum, it could allow them to do a few special abilities, and they'd been lying about it for a long time. Their special project was a unique time craft that worked without having to use something similar to a traditional vehicle. When they showed him the final prototype it looked similar to a pair of scissors, just much larger.

It was at that moment Hero realized how desperately Croissant needed help. Time travel??? He practically refused it.

He shifted the conversation a bit towards how they were actually doing. If they were they eating, if they were sleeping, the last time they had talked to anyone, how often they were spending working on their project. This time Hero didn't get a relevant response. All he got was a short sentence.

"I'm leaving this timeline, and I'm not coming back."

They said it with venom in their voice, it went silent. They continued, they said that there was nothing left here for them but pain and boredom. Here was actually the only thing keeping them here, but he had apparently made his choice. There was nothing left here.

Hero couldn't react before they opened a portal.

They both stood in front of it, a swirling oval that lifted off of the ground, it seemed impossible, it was so flat it looked two dimensional. Croissant said their farewell, but as they stepped towards it Hero's instincts kicked in. His mechanical arm had multiple uses, and he had a hidden blaster in the wrist.

Croissant turned back right as the blast came toward them.

It hit dead in their good eye, and shot them through the portal with their scissors just as the portal closed. They were gone. Hero was alone in Croissant's apartment. Hero had just killed one of his closest friends.

What had just happened?

Part 9.5: Sandwich Cookie

It had been a long day. As Sandwich got home from a business meeting they were greeted with a letter from Hero.

As she read through it, she found it harder and harder to process what the words said.

When she finally understood what it meant, it still felt unreal.

Then it hit. The understanding hit like a tsunami.

Croissant was dead, and Hero had killed them.

She collapsed on the floor in tears.

Part 10: Timekeeper Cookie

Croissant woke up in a ticking void, if a void could have a floor. Their eye hurt like hell, it didn't even work. The noise of ticking clocks drilled into their ears. They thought about what had just happened while on the cold floor of the void as their injuries were slowly consumed by time infection. As they thought through the pain reality set in. This wasn't a normal time vacuum, it wasn't even a time pocket, time pockets don't make noise. Where were they? From what they could see it was... purpley. Oh what did it matter anyway? Nothing mattered. If they live, if they die it will all continue the same. The only people they had truly made an impact on were traitors, they'd known about this possibility for a long time. The possibility of Hero crossing the line and asking questions he doesn't want to know the answer to. They studied how that conversation could've gone over and over, but in the end they couldn't change the outcome. They were too afraid to look beyond it that possibility, the future was a mystery even to them. So now what? There's nothing left for them at their home timeline. Maybe it's a shame, or maybe it's an opportunity.

No oblivious old friends to meddle with things they don't understand. No need for relationships that end for unfortunate reasons. No responsibilities to manage. No taxes to pay. No people to please. No planes to crash. No innocents to fail.

All they had was the TBD and they knew it. They were painfully aware. They looked at their prototype from across the floor. As they did they saw other versions of themself in the same situation, sometimes there were people with them, sometimes they were in a different void, but all of them knew what they had left behind. And they all new the gift they had been given, the gift of a fresh start.

Croissant got up. Croissant. Hm. What use did that name serve now anyway? Croissant. It didn't describe them at all anymore. If this was going to be the mark of a new beginning, they might as well start there. Hmmmm, oh!

Timekeeper got up and limped over to their pride and joy. The thing that would get them out of here. The thing that would change their life forever. But before they could touch it, they heard something strange.

L̴͓̀ḯ̴̡͖v̷̞̗́̀ė̸̡̩,̸̭͖͝ ̸̱̭̉y̶̭̍͋ͅȏ̴̹u̸̙̜̓n̶̡̖̒g̶͉̔͝ ̸̭̓ò̷̡ń̷̙͚̚e̵̻̦̋

A voice had appeared from the ticking. A loud, booming voice that came from no where. It was hard to understand, and impossible to know where it came from, but Timekeeper understood what it was.

They were in the living breathing presence of Time** itself.

And as the ticking returned to its normal rhythm again, Timekeeper smiled. They had Time on their side. They had the most powerful time craft at their disposal, and they had a lot of fun to be had.

No more hesitation.

No more rules.

No more Croissant Cookie.

Timekeeper used their precious weavers, and got back to work.

*the previous Director was another Timekeeper Variant. They signed Croissant up for it themself. Timekeepers are the worst.

**Yes Time is a living thing in this universe, no it is not a cookie lmao. It has no real physical form besides a floating eye.

Oh and Hero's blaster is weak. Powerful enough to take out an eye, not powerful enough to take out a brain. Also by the end of the story Timekeeper had been working at the TBD for around seven years, ik it's not clear in the story but I am not writing seven years worth of character growth I am TIRED.

Ok: what just happened?

So basically Croissant was ruined mentally because of the break up. They gave up on trying to have any sort of healthy balance with their work and personal life. And once they got back into a cycle of just working, after a while it got boring again. The most exciting thing they have experienced because monotonous. That ruined them. They began trying their best to make it more interesting. Peeking into the future with their Blessing, blinking everywhere, learning how to float, and working on their own project: the Time Weavers. During this period they began realizing how small and insignificant their life was. They were having one hell of a terrible time.

After seeing the possibilities of Hero's visit, it terrified them. They began prepping for it weeks in advance, but it didn't do much. Most of the situation was out of their control anyways, besides one thing.

Turning back.

How does Clockmaker fit in this?

Clockmaker is a Timekeeper variant that emerged when Hero decided to actually use his brain and shot Croissant into a wall instead of the portal. They actually got help and learned to actually enjoy life. After a while they began to forgive Hero for taking out their eye and they rebuilt their friendship!

There are other endings where Croissant is shot through the portal but is actually found by Fire Sprit or Eternal Tree (a version of Millennial Tree me and my brother made a long time ago)

That's pretty much it, thank you SO much for reading. This is the longest thing I have ever written by FAR and I just wanna thank you for sticking with me through my spaghetti thoughts.

And for those who are curious:

4.7k words and 27k characters

#infinity's cookie run lore #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #timekeeper cookie #🎀.txt

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archivehub · 1 month

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Title: Peppermint Summary: Steven's title as "the singer" of his and Connie's relationship is challenged. Word Count: 661

Prepare for a doozie. For Glow Week day 4, I used the prompt "Nurture."

The short is also beneath the cut:

Singing had always, unequivocally, been Steven’s thing. Sure, Connie would occasionally join in softly as he belted out lyrics in the car, but those moments remained few and far between.

Steven sang to her as a child, he sang to her as a young adult, he sang as he proposed for the first time; he even sang as he proposed a second time. He sang to her baby bump, he sang at her college graduation, he sang at their wedding, he sang all throughout their honeymoon; and, most recently, he sang as they held their daughter for the first time ever.

This dynamic remained unchanged, unchallenged, for over a decade. That is, until one fateful summer night…

“Your turn, hun…” Steven sighed as an all-too-familiar wailing came blaring through the nearby baby monitor.

“On it…” Connie yawned. She practically flopped out of bed before slipping on a blue robe and a pair of falcon-shaped slippers. Lion followed her out of the room as she then shuffled over to the adjacent nursery.

As a series of ‘it’s okay’s and tender shushes made their way out of the monitor, Steven attempted dozing off once more, having been in the middle of a particularly exciting dream. Just moments before his mind could slip into unconsciousness, however, something unbelievable, absolutely unprecedented, caught his ear: his wife’s unprompted singing.

To say the absolute least, it was angelic. Actually, Steven thought, that was an understatement: it was mind-bendingly ethereal. Had she always been able to sing like that? And since when did she know entire songs in Hindi?

In that moment, he felt, everything changed about their dynamic. He was no longer the singer of the two of them. Hell, compared to her, he wasn’t even a singer. She was leagues upon leagues more talented than he could ever, in a zillion years, hope to be, no matter how little she demonstrated her skill.

His entire body flushed a deep shade of pink. Oh lord, what was happening to him? What were these thoughts he was having?

---

“Morning, biscuit!” Connie beamed as she set little Gracie in her high chair. The woman produced a bottle of milk which the infant instantly ripped from her hands. “Looks like someone’s thirsty,” she snorted. “Speaking of, I made tea. Peppermint, your favorite,” she hummed.

Steven produced a warm, albeit strained, smile. “Thanks,” he nodded. He took a seat beside his daughter, who immediately attempted grabbing his curls as she downed her milk at light speed.

“Sleep well?” Connie exhaled; she placed a frog-patterned mug in her husband’s hand before leaning against the fridge, arms crossed.

Steven felt his eyes widen. “Uhm, very,” he coughed before hiding his expression behind his drink. Something must’ve given away his discomposure, however; his wife quirked a brow. The subtle resistance immediately caused any mental fortitude he possessed to explode into a billion tiny pieces. “I heard you singing last night!” he blurted before immediately burying his face behind his mug once more.

Connie pursed her lips. “Oh, uh… really?” She tapped her gem-studded wedding ring against her own frog-patterned mug. “I learned those songs from my mom,” she half-tittered before taking a sip of her drink, durian juice—she wasn’t a huge fan of coffee or tea, having been put off the latter by a certain affront to all things sacred she had drank as a twelve-year-old. “Did you…” she inhaled, “like my singing?”

“‘Like’?” Steven repeated. He slammed his drink onto the table; Gracie laughed and slammed her own cup against her high chair. “Connie, I-I wanna marry you again! C-can we please have a second wedding?” he begged. “No no, forget it,”—he slapped a palm to his face—“that wouldn’t make any sense…” He rubbed his forehead for but a moment before perking up once more. “Wait, wait,” he began, “I’ve got it!” He threw up his arms. “Let’s have another baby!”

Connie simply blinked.

Lisa Maheswaran-Universe was born ten months later.

#connverse #glowweek #steven universe #connie maheswaran #su #fanfiction #steven quartz universe #su fanfiction #steven x connie #connie x steven #glow week #connie mahaswaran

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dumdumsun · 1 year

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To Nightfall

A/N: Awe, man... The last Harlan chapter :(

Warnings: character death (RIP Harlan), mentions of death

Word Count: 2452

—————————————

Chapter 12: The Truth of the Matter

“It was a kamikaze mission.” Pogo explained to Five, who was sipping from a drink he was given. “He was preparing the Sparrow children with the expectation they might never return. That’s why I gave the children those pills, to keep them safe from him.”

(Y/N) lowered her glass from her lips and sat up beside Tammy. “Wait. The pills they force him to take with his meals?”

“Precisely.” Pogo nodded at her.

“Well,” Five sighed. “Our druggie brother just got him sober. Go figure.”

“Then Project Oblivion is starting again,” He pointed between the two teens. “And you are all in danger.”

Five threw back the rest of his drink with a cringe before standing from his seat. “Then I should probably get that ink. Complete the loop.”

(Y/N) stood as well. “Are you sure, Five? I-It’s what your older self did. I thought you were trying not to be like him.”

“It’s destiny, Starlight.” He slipped off his suit jacket. “I don’t think it cares whether I’m sure or not.”

“Bitch is cruel, ain’t she?” Tammy grabbed Pogo’s equipment, standing from the sofa and handing it off to him. Five took a seat in her place and reached up to his tie, but (Y/N) stood before him to loosen it herself.

“Well then, let’s get started.”

Five looked up at his love, who was already staring at him as she slipped his tie off him and unbuttoned his suit vest. He knew the look she was giving him. She was worried out of her mind, not because of the tattoo, but because of what the tattoo would lead to. He told her about the condition his older self was in before he died and it struck her to her core. The thought of Five dying alone in the Commission, the same place he tried to escape for so long, was terrifying to her. If he got that ink in his skin now, when would he lose the arm? When will he flee to the Commission, and when will his body start failing him?

The questions running through her mind were halted when Five gently grasped her wrist in his hand, gently rubbing her skin with his thumb. He was trying to communicate with his own eyes that even if he didn’t entirely know what he was doing, he wanted her there with him. So, (Y/N) nodded and backed away, allowing him to lay across the sofa. She sat down beside his head and gently ran her finger along his cheekbone without much thought.

Pogo laid his equipment out and smiled at the young girl as Five opened his shirt. “It’s nice to see you again, (Y/N).” He gently spoke, earning a small smile in return. “Really nice.”

And with that, he set the needle onto Five’s skin.

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

At the drive-in, Harlan was leading Viktor away from the snack shop and a few feet from the two cars. “You’re still using the sounds that you can hear, like the rain or the wind or the sound of your own breathing.” He explained. “You have to learn to use sounds that you can’t.”

“Yeah, how am I supposed to do that?” Viktor sighed.

“When you left, I realized I had this… thing inside me. This… power. I hoped I could use it for something good. Something… beautiful. I didn’t know what it was. I… I called it marigold.”

“Like the flower?”

Harlan nodded. “You know how bees find pollen?” At the shake of Viktor’s head, he continued. “Bees have a positive charge, flowers have a negative one. The bees use the hairs on their body to detect the interaction between the fields. They can hear the pollen.”

“Okay.” Viktor scoffed in frustration. “What are you saying?”

“You need to stop listening with your ears,” Harlan took his headphones off his neck and walked up to Viktor, handing them over. As he put them on, Harlan took out his tape player and held it out. “Listen with your marigold. And find mine.”

The two grasped hands, Viktor closing his eyes to listen deeply. Soon, their combined energy began to glow brighter than before. Over the wall, on the other side of the screen, Allison sat on one of the swings of the empty children’s playground. The chains of the empty swing beside her rattled with the wind swaying it slightly. Just as she flicked the ash of her cigarette, a voice spoke to her.

“I always thought you hated playgrounds. Every time we passed by one, you always just looked the other way.”

Allison, without even turning her head, knew it was Raymond on the now occupied swing, just the way she left him in 1963. She softly smiled at his words, happy he was here. “Our father never let us play on them because he said they were juvenile… Claire loved them. Especially the swings.”

Ray’s smile filled itself with pity.

“I wish you could have met her.”

“I’m sure we probably would have gotten along just fine.” He assured her. Allison chuckled.

“More than fine. She would’ve loved you. The way that I loved you… The way I still love you…”

“I love you, too, baby. And you know I’m always gon’ love you.”

She painfully closed her eyes. “Please, stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not real. The Ray I know died nine years ago at the age of eight-two. I looked it up.”

He brightly smiled. “Well, I hope I had a good life.”

She smiled back at him. “Not as good as you deserved.”

“So, what? You seeing things?”

She shakily inhaled. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“We all go a little crazy from time to time. Maybe that’s what stress’ll do to a person.”

“You don’t understand.” Allison choked out, not even facing him anymore, not able to look him in his eyes. “I can’t get back to you or Claire. You’re both gone forever, and it’s like you were never real. Were you ever real…?”

“We were here. You know it.” Ray nodded. “And as long as you’re alive, we’re gon’ keep on living in there…” He pointed to his head and hers, then placed a hand over his heart. “...and in here. No matter when or where you are, we’re both always gon’ be with you, so you have got to do what it takes to survive this. Promise me.”

Allison’s heart broke even more when she turned her head to the empty swing, its chains still rattling. Her eyes darkened along with the sky as her mind whirled with the wind. She couldn’t tell if the goosebumps pricking her skin were from aftershocks of her hallucination or the dropping temperature around her.

When she could see her breath in the air, she looked up to the cloud-cluttered mass above her, terror striking her like the lightning bolts that scattered across the sky. There was a storm brewing.

“Oh, god.” She shot up from the swing. “Viktor.”

Her feet quickly took her back to where she had left the two, her stomach dropping and churning at the sight of Harlan and Viktor suspended in the air, their lightening-like energy connected between them. The swirling force field around them was what kept her from becoming a casualty in the interaction.

“Viktor!” She called out. “Viktor!”

Allison’s eyes never left them as she hurriedly made her way back to the cars, which were both blaring with their alarms. A flash of lightning erupted, the projector at the snack shop blinking on and casting their silhouettes onto the screen. She watched in horror as Harlan’s power grew bigger and brighter until it blasted towards Viktor, who groaned in pain. Beautiful golden wisps emitted from Harlan as he glowed brighter. The golden particles given to him, that Viktor thought he had taken back, traveled through his body until they shot out his mouth, ripping a scream from Harlan as they did.

The particles glided through the air before flying into Viktor’s mouth. Once each and every particle was back where it belonged, his power rumbled and then burst, the wave of energy throwing them and Allison back. The light of the projector went off just as Harlan and Viktor dropped to the ground. As the sky cleared again, Allison panted and gasped for air, lifting herself from where she had fallen.

Immediately, she spotted her brother and ran over to him, lifting him into her lap. “Hey, hey. You okay?” She whispered. “Hey.”

Viktor blinked the blear out of his eyes to see Harlan laying on the ground, staring down at his shaking hands. “Harlan?” He quietly called.

“It’s gone.” He smiled as he lifted himself up with a chuckle. “We did it.”

Viktor tiredly smiled at him, allowing sleep to take over his consciousness finally.

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

Below the first floor of the mansion, (Y/N) had followed her robot maid down the steps that led to the luggage room. Grace either didn’t notice or didn’t care, for she continued onwards. (Y/N) remained quiet as she let Grace lead her, but soon, she didn’t need any guidance when she felt a tug. It was as if something was calling to her, urging her in a certain direction. Her exhale of breath stuttered as she followed the pull to the left, completely missing the bright red glowing orb on the right.

(Y/N) ran in front of Grace as the tug pulled her harsher. She opened the metal door they reached and walked inside, holding it open for the robot to slip through before letting it close. Her shoulders slumped as the two came upon another door, but this one had a vertical glass window, accessing more of a view inside the room the door closed off. (Y/N) let out a breath as she slowly approached the window, placing her hand on it as if to make contact with what was inside.

“Oh.” (Y/N) whispered and smiled in awe at the haunting white that stared back at her. “Hi…”

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

Allison turned her head when she heard the opening and closing of the snack shop door, but turned back around when she caught the sight of Harlan in her peripheral, wrapped up in a blanket. “How’s Viktor?” She asked without looking at him, flicking the ash from her cigarette.

“Sleeping. He’s exhausted.” Harlan answered. “Thank you for before, letting us finish what we needed to do.”

“He’s my brother. I would do anything for him.”

He took a few steps forward. “What happens to me now?”

“You go home. And we clean up your mess.”

“With the Sparrows.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Harlan turned to go back inside, but something was eating at him. At first, he thought that Allison was rude to him with no excuse, but he had to remind himself that he had hurt her and her family. And he couldn’t take the thought of not clearing the air before he never saw her again. So, he turned back around. “It’s okay. I know why you don’t like me.”

Allison turned to face him, jaw clenched. “I don’t like the hold you have on my brother-”

“It’s because of what I did. To all of you.”

She furrowed her brows. “And what is that, exactly?”

He raised his brows, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “I… I… thought Viktor told you. About the mothers.”

Her eyes burned in realization. “It was you.” She muttered. “You’re the reason they’re all dead.”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt them.”

“You’re the reason Claire’s dead.” She threw her cigarette to the side and stalked up to him.

“My powers spilled over. Got in my head-”

“And the reason the whole world is ending!”

Harlan fearfully looked up at her, knowing that his reasonings would fall on deaf ears. “I… I couldn’t stop myself.”

Allison pointed towards the door with wide eyes. “Viktor knew.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I didn’t want-”

“Sorry is what you say when you spill a glass of milk, not obliterate somebody’s child!”

He watched as her gaze fell to the ground, no doubt a whirlwind of emotions swirling through her right now. Harlan knew what Viktor meant now. The consequences of what he did were standing right before him.

“What are you gonna do?”

Allison inhaled and looked him in the eyes with nothing but hatred and danger.

In the woods, Five and (Y/N) exited the RV hand-in-hand, Pogo and Tammy following them out. “I wish you two the best of luck.”

Five nodded. “Thanks for the help.”

“Do whatever it takes to save your family and the Sparrows. Reginald intends to spare no one from his plans.” He stepped onto the ground, walking up to (Y/N). She gently smiled at him as he brought her into a hug. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Pogo. It was nice to see you again, too.”

The two pulled away from each other before she took hold of Five’s hand again. Pogo gave them one last look before he and Tammy returned to their home, closing the door behind them. (Y/N) turned to the motorcycle they had arrived on.

“I wanna drive the motorcycle this time.”

“You know, now that I know where we are, I can just blink us back-”

“I wanna drive it.”

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

The city’s source of light simply came from the glow of the buildings inhabiting it, substituting for the sun that had set a couple hours ago. Standing outside their home was the Sparrow Academy. Beside the curb was Ben, Fei, (Y/N) and Reginald, awaiting what was promised to them.

A Hotel Obsidian car pulled up and parked beside them, Allison exiting from it. She made her way to the trunk of the car as Ben and Fei met her there. She opened the trunk, staring Ben down. “You got what you wanted. This is done.”

Ben nodded, looking down at Harlan's corpse stuffed inside. He and Reginald shared a nod before the latter walked back inside the house. Allison brushed past Ben, made a point to ignore (Y/N), and walked towards the entrance of the mansion.

Standing there on the steps was Sloane, standing beside Luther, now decked out in Marcus’s red suit. He looked at Allison with so much confliction, like he couldn’t believe who she was. Like he didn’t know her anymore. Allison only scoffed and walked past them to enter the house.

Ben closed the trunk of the car and walked up to (Y/N), gently grabbing her by the elbow and guiding her back inside. Her eyes didn’t leave the car until the front door shut behind her.

—————————————

Taglist: @natewrightt @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @sbyderman @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @keayastitties @hehehehannahthings @harryshomeismyhome @rhain3 @deigobonitooo @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @theyaremorethanjustfictional @that-can-of-fizz @luckyzipperscissorsbat @0range-slices @molzsecretspace @officialjypofc @dragon-master-kai @justsomecreaturewandering @fandomxo00 @roman0ffsheart @idktbhloley @wifeofcamillamacaulay @twsssmlmaa @teamspideyman @instabull @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua fanfic #tua x reader #tua five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight #and dusk #to nightfall

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l3tterk · 9 months

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NEW MUSIC: Carmen Caska ~ To Be Plugged

NOTE: I originally posted this to AOTY, but thought I'd drop here as well

I have been really excited for this project, ever since it was first mentioned all the way back in 2019/2020.

Over the last few years, it has been relatively quiet on Caska’s front regarding their musical output; a couple demos here and there but otherwise not so much.

In 2020 there was “WHACK” - a more classically hip-hop styled track complete with chipmunk vocals and a real sense of Spaß (to appropriate a Brechtian term) in both Caska’s vocal delivery and lyrics as we learn about the artist’s personal convictions and how they navigate through the world.

In 2021 there was “220 - 2” an interesting listen that with hindsight, due to its pitch shifting and glitchy, yet serene drops, could be viewed as a forecast for the musical direction Caska was headed.

These aside, the last substantial offering Caska was the 2019 mixtape, “ARI”- a project that saw the artist take a dramatic leap forward from their early days of Acoustic-y Lofi Hip-hop (under the alias Toph, or Topshiba) into a world of more industrial/Alternative hip-hop. On “To Be Plugged” however, we see Caska take yet another step - this time incorporating flavours of hyper-pop and electronic music into the mix, yielding a more ambitious, confident and engaging listen.

Over this span we’ve also seen several artist name changes for this project, starting with Ari Mori, moving to Aari Mori finally arriving at Carmen Caska - a fact that is useful to note as they are the literal stages of Caska's devopment.

Context aside, the review begins below

The album opens with “through me” an electronic, shoegaze-y number that sets the sonic stage for what we are about to listen to. Lyrically, Caska establishes a recurring theme of snow - something that is referred to again later on the project. As a listener, you very much “descend” into the world of this project during it’s runtime and it definitely feels so beginning with this track.

“You will drop everything” is an uptempo track that could have fit in on “Ari” - not that this is a bad thing. Instrumentally, this song feels like you’re travelling in a race car, with bending synths, glitchy drums, and a roaring bass.

“Lil Hoe” - is an alternate version of what was the lead single titled “Gutted” released with an accompanying mv in 2020. Due to this song, or at least the idea for it being in the ether for so long relative to the rest of the tracks, I feel most attached to this one. Though I miss the clearer original’s lyrics, in particular section in the original with the lyrics “Made into an addict but I loved her” I appreciate this track for what it is, which at the end of the day is still a hyper-pop banger.

“Have Mercy” is probably one of my favourite songs off this album, there is a fantastic sense of progression throughout its run, the “This is like this many rings” part just goes HARD and I also love the line “all the angels have fallen”

“Last Dance” is an apocalypse party anthem, with fluttering/growling arpeggios - which echo Portishead’s “the rip”

On “Heart Ate Whole” Caska flexes their fantastic production talents - its just a marvel to listen to.

“Tear” is a powerful, yet serene stroll down memory lane, as Caska manages to express the feeling of growing up - I have already written a review for this so I won’t go on much longer- but I wanted to note that it is my thinking that the reference to snow on this record could be a symbol of purity, or innocence, which becomes more powerful considering its use on this particular song

“Kill Me now” - feels Jpegmafia influenced in the best way, especially with the gang vocal chops - there’s a great sense of balance between braggadocio and vulnerability, which reminds me specifically of Peggy’s song “Kenan vs Kel”.

“Valhalla” is another banger - nuff said.

The project ends on “East River”, which I think is one of Caska’s best penned songs. I LOVED the passage “What did he think about?/In those very last breaths before the air ran out/Was it someone/Who gave meaning to every bubble/Who made his heart more than a muscle”. Instrumentally, I liked the distorted guitars and the way the whole composition builds is immaculate. - A truly epic closer.

All in all, I believe that this project is very well conceptualised/executed. Fantastic production, Unique vocals, some decent to brilliant lyrics as well. Would highly recommend. My only critique is that the lyrics are still buried in the mix, of course this is in no small part a stylistic choice, however I still feel that it obfuscates what could otherwise make for a more engaging listen.

This also happened to release on my birthday, so thank you for the amazing gift and keep up the great work, Caska!

#carmen caska #new music #review #long reads #hyper pop #electronic #alternative

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love-letters-to-tooru · 2 years

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It’s Going to Be Okay x Unspecified Character

Genre : hurt/comfort

Synopsis : reader feels more than just a bit down, sits in the balcony and helps themself, goes to bed to their boyfriend.

Warning : feeling on insecurity and self doubt but it gets better

Word count : > 0.7k words

A/n : I’ve said this before, I’ll say it again. This is me self projecting. But anyways this exact thing happened to me a few days ago (not the boyfriend part, just the sitting in the balcony part) so I decided to use it as writing fodder. Anyways if you’re reading this I just want to to know that despite sometimes it all feeling pointless, life get better and so will you. Loving yourself unconditionally is one very important thing you need to learn. Anyways I hope you enjoy it :))

~~~

Arms wrapped around your knees, you leaned against the bumpy wall, content with simply sitting in balcony watching the pedestrians on the sidewalk beneath.

The wind blows and your fingers and toes are numb after sitting on the cold tiles for so long in shorts. It’s colder than usual and you’re not one to want to brave the chill but somehow you can’t bring yourself to go back inside. Not now.

You can hear the soft, excited chatter from down below, though the exact nuances are lost on you. Today you’re busy with your own thoughts and feelings.

It’s not yet midnight so cars still buzz by frequently but despite the noise there’s an odd sense of tranquility you wouldn’t have found in your own little bedroom. The moon peeking through the effervescent clouds seems to understand that all too well.

Far away, you can see the twinkle of the skyscrapers that line the skyline in an orderly fashion. Even now it blows your mind how each person there is living their own life, filled with their own complex problems and knick knacks. Sonder, that’s what you think it’s called.

Goosebumps start to adorn your forearms, as the enclosed balcony does nothing to offset the chill. It’s okay though, it’s been a long time since you truly felt something. So despite your rationality yelling at you to get a cardigan, you remain rooted to the spot, like wisteria.

Soft music plays through your headphones as your mind wanders to places you wish it’s never been. Today had been particularly rough and it was why you were seeking refuge out here, hidden in the long shadows. It seemed as if all your insecurities and self doubt had ganged up on you, determined to rip you apart.

My grades are dropping. There’s nothing I’m good at. I don’t know what I want in the future. I don’t even know what I want from myself. Growing up seems more like a curse than an opportunity. I want to be fifteen again.

Thoughts like these plagued your mind, not allowing you even a moment's reprieve. You weren’t enough, that’s what it had felt like the entire day. Somehow you had made it through, stayed strong enough to maintain your strong farce on the outside.

But under the watchful, wistful gaze of the moon, you reach your mini epiphany. It was a bittersweet realization, the medicine and the pain.

Good things are coming your way. You did your best. You'll be proud of yourself one day. Maybe not tomorrow or the next. But yes, someday.

A single tear slipped down your face and you were more than aware that you could feel it with every inch of your being. It could almost have been cinematic if it wasn’t for the horrible, hiccuped sobs that followed through. But it felt good to cry, to grieve the time gone wasted under your self doubt. It felt good to cry, knowing that you had to an extent made it, conquered that same self doubt. It wasn’t as if the sadness had erased, no it was still very much real and an unwelcome guest but you no longer felt like a hopeless soldier against it. You weren’t thriving, no not yet but you you were surviving. And wasn’t that enough ? Things would get better, you were sure of it.

A shaky smile on your face, you slowly stood up, legs shaky after being in that position for so long (insert bad innuendo here). You felt empty, not drained, but in a sense that you were ready to allow yourself to be filled with love and compassion again. For the world around you and more importantly yourself.

The rest of the night passed with a breeze, your nighttime routine seeming almost sanctified by your new found acceptance for yourself. Switching off the lights, you walked into your shared bedroom and placed a glass of water on the bedside then slid into the warm duvet. On the other side of the bed lay a tall figure; your boyfriend. You could tell sleep and exhaustion threatened to take control, but he remained awake waiting for you to lay beside him. The thought of it warmed your heart, you always knew he loved in ways you couldn’t imagine but after today, it made you feel extra loved. Leaning toward him, you whispered, “It’s going to okay baby, I’m going to be okay”.

You got no response back except for a chaste kiss on your forehead as he pulled you closer towards him. Snuggled in, you smiled to yourself yet again, grateful for everything.

#kaashi writes - [🦋]#oikawa - [🦋]#hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #hq x you

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anterocash · 2 years

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right or left?

Cash is still learning things but he’s gotten good at acting otherwise. If he didn’t have to adapt the book into a screenplay, he would have continued going on in life not having read A Manufactured Heart.

That’s right.

Up until then, he hadn’t read it and had no plans on it either. Of course, Larry had to ruin that for him, if he wanted the true version of the events in the book he could always read Min’s journals stashed in the fireproof safe in the utility closet. He settles for the fictionalization form and after a couple of revisions to his screenplay, the smallest details from the book seem to dissipate from his mind, he couldn’t put the entire book on screen, just the more vital plots with some filler to kill the tension and brighten things up. And even with filming starting, he wasn’t going to pick it up and reread it now. Cash thought about it, reading it on the plane to America, he’d read the novel first and then his finished screenplay they were using for the show and wonder which version was better. Except he got on the plane and got sucked into binge-watching a whole season of an anime because he had fourteen hours with minimal distractions to do so.

It’s only been a few weeks and Cash thinks he’s getting the hang of this whole TV filming gig he’s got going on. He’s on a lunch break he decided to give himself, walking down a row of cars in the university’s parking lot a short distance away from the current filming area, he’s lighting up a joint, only seeing a man stride towards him with a purpose as the smoke wafted away. Cash assumes it’s a member of the crew or an anxious professor – not everyone has been very welcoming of a television crew being on campus, no matter how much the president implored that they did so, it would bring tons of money to the school. It’s always about money.

He doesn’t have much time before he realizes a fist is being thrown in the direction of his face. Summers standing outside on Kiawah Island with Huck’s family smoking at night, dodging mosquitoes when they fly towards your face has his muscle memory kick into action, Min tilts his head out of the pathway, narrowly missing his knuckle catching his cheek and he doesn’t have time to process that either when he’s being shoved, muscle memory kicks back in once more and he finds himself shoving the other man back hard, putting some distance between them. Cash doesn’t know who the hell this man is, and why he wants to punch his head off, he needs some answers now.

“What the fuck is your problem?” who the fuck this man is remains unanswered for now.

“It’s Ian, you bastard!”

Cash has no clue who the hell Ian is, and he shakes his head, blinking rapidly before leveling his eyes on the other man again. “Fuck, it’s been a while man.” Min laughs, because he vaguely remembers this guy, they had a couple of classes together and shared mutual friends nothing too dramatic for him to punch Min in the face.

“Fuck you, Min. You ruined my goddamn life!” Ian bellows as he lunges towards the life ruiner once more, people come out of nowhere to hold him back from ripping Min to shreds which sucks more than getting punched in the face because he’s a man! He doesn’t need people helping him in fights.

“Nah, let him go, let him go –” Min insists, waving people back, looking at Ian once more. They weren’t very close at all, polite, and even did a group project together once with this hot euro exchange student with an inverted left nipple.

“Now, Ian…” Min starts with that condescending drone of a voice of his, how can Min be simultaneously bored and disappointed in someone? No one could figure it out.

“My wife read your book, asshole!” He yells and everyone looks on edge in case he lunges for Cash again. Min squints harder – he hasn’t been wearing his glasses, wanting to change his image a little bit but he’s too chicken for contacts or Lasik – he shakes his head in confusion.

“Did I fuck your wife or…?” A low ripple of laughter wades through the crowd, phones out, recording the spectacle for the world wide web to see. But everyone wants to know as well, what did Min do?

Ian sighs pinching the bridge of his nose, anger – anger at himself for getting himself in this predicament, anger at Min – simmering underneath the surface of his skin like an itch Ian would have to rip his skin off to get rid of.

“My wife read your book, Min,” Ian says trying to keep his voice steady as he takes another step closer to him. “And there is a line about a guy named Ian getting a blowjob in a frat house by a – the word you used in the book was ‘euro bitch with the funny nipple’ she knew who and what you were referring to and now I could lose everything because of you.”

Min thought he had changed all the names before sending the final manuscript for edit and bound, he had made sure to add different scenarios and changed names perhaps it was a human error but the consequences didn’t wait for Min to find out on his own. Suddenly it all clicks for him, Ian, the ‘Euro bitch’, and her inability to show up to group meetings for the project but could swallow Ian’s dick at a Delta Sigma party in the bathroom when Min had to pee.

(he ended up peeing in a red solo cup and left it in the kitchen.)

Back when Min was still regularly journaling, he just wrote his day in order, it was more of a recap than a way to express his emotions, he never said how he felt about it, it was an observation and he went about his night. He never meant any harm, sometimes he wonders why he let Larry talk him into turning the recaps of his youth into fictional novels. He’s been deleting emails from disgruntled former classmates since 2019 and with the show on the horizon, more people from his graduating class – more people from the university, will read it and while that’s supposed to be a good thing, he isn’t enjoying it. Cash just wishes people would get the fuck over themselves and not read the damn thing if it’s causing them that much strife.

Min isn’t sorry, he didn’t put Ian’s dick in – it was Svetlana – her name was Svetlana and she had the stupidest excuses for not showing up on time to go over her portion of the project and after that, Min offered every person he was ever paired up with the option of him doing it all himself and putting both of their names on it. Jeez, Min had forgotten how much of a slut Ian was, and he only knew him casually, but Min also knew that Ian cheated on his girlfriend a lot. Also, something completely out of his exceptionally soft hands (he loves buying nice lotions.)

“Listen, Ian. It was nothing personal, I promise, and maybe one day – very small chance of this but I’ll try and get it all fixed but for now let’s –”

Min can’t finish his sentence because Ian sucker punches him in the gut, the brunt force bowing Min over in pain he wonders briefly if he’s going to throw up but then he just gets pissed and gets into a defensive mode, shoving Ian before they’re separated. “No, let me go –” Min hisses as he tries to pull from security’s hold, he’s got a head over them both and the anger and weight to break free to run over to Ian who also is restrained and dragged towards the end of the parking lot to be removed from campus.

“Hey, Min!” Ian yells from five cars down, ruining the heels of his shoes by dragging them on the pavement as he tries to break free himself. “How did you know she had an inverted nipple?”

Ian regrets asking it, regrets wanting the last word because he has nothing else now.

“The same way you did, Ian,” Min yells back, giving the other man the finger as he's dragged away, cursing Min’s name the whole time until his voice fades and everyone starts to dissipate, the excitement waning.

At least about ten people got the footage.

#drabble

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yasminc-photo · 2 years

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Graded Unit - Evaluation

The graded unit or 'personal project" is a brief where we need to produce 10 final digital images and 5 final prints all relating to a theme. As there were endless possibilities for themes, the first that came to my mind was creating different time period shoots. I had the idea of incorporating something i'm passionate about with this idea.

Some ideas I came up with were recreating influential album covers or movie posters, an astronomy theme shooting stargazers and enthusiasts and culture through traditional clothing. The initial idea I decided to go with was incorporating fashion with a train theme to show how train travel has evolved since the 1930s/40s.

This proved harder than I thought when actually planning locations and sourcing models - I can't afford regular online models, my friends are limited with time and travel and location wise I was very restricted. I wanted the images to feel somewhat realistic. So I amended this by changing my theme to centre around travel in general, and with editing I was able to create whatever effect I needed for each period.

Initially I divided my project into 5 shoots for decades skipping 20 years at a time; 1940s, 60s, 80s, 2000s and the 2020s. This ended up being a bust as two models became unavailable for the project and could only model after the submission deadline.

I compensated for this by skipping the 60s shoot and gathering a new model for the 80s shoot to fill in. This worked in my favour and it gave me one of my favourite shots I’ve taken so far.

Location wise, the original plan was for my 60s shoot to be held within the transport museum as I thought the old vehicles would suit the time period well. Upon visiting to gather my recce shots I learned all the vehicles were from the 1700s - 1940s, also the background had fake shops that looked considerably older than a 60s time period.

I decided to instead use this location for my 40s wartime shoot, focusing my two models around a car built around the late 30s. This ended up working really well and I was even able to use one of the fake shop windows for my composition, creating separation between the two models.

More complications arose when my original plan for the 2000s shoot was going to be shot in Bogside at abandoned railway tracks. When I was struggling to see what this idea represented and was unable to find access to the site I found inspiration at my local cinema. The sign has been up for two decades and still feels nostalgic, which is what I wanted to create with the editing. My friend Kelsey helped me out and we decided to incorporate her car since I wanted to use an active mode of travel for that time period.

I then had the issue of unfocused images in my 2020s shoot, and by this point I was ripping my hair out as the location (Wemyss Bay) isn’t the easiest to get to unless I'm already near the west coast. I took my time with the reshoot, focusing each shot manually as I did not trust my cameras autofocus at all by this point.

Editing was another mammoth task, one I’m not even sure I’m fully done with. I think I’ve tried at least 6/7 different edits on each individual photo with some retouching. The task of trying to edit each shoot in their own specific time period was very difficult, I wanted to perfect it but I didn’t want to rely too heavily on pre-sets.

I ended up using a sepia tone pre-set as a guide for my 40s shoot, which helped a lot. 80s shoot was so difficult to get right, I wanted a film style look but with a twinge more contrast to make sure it’s not too flat and uninteresting. 2000s editing was quite tricky as it’s hard to replicate a time period that doesn’t look super old in photographs, yet doesn’t look too modern. With all these older time period shoots it was a task as I’m shooting with a DSLR and not a film camera.

I feel Lightroom has remained my favourite program to use for importing, editing and exporting as I feel it’s most user friendly for me. This project was definitely the hardest brief I've completed this year, everything felt so stressful and time consuming. The only slight relief I got was when I was able to edit in post and I could realise they had potential. I felt good knowing that when I decided to share my images, people seemed to respond well to them.

If I were to complete this brief again with the same theme, I'd look to hire professional models that would reliably be on time and not drop out of shoots. I’d also get my recce shots well before I plan to shoot as it’d save time having to relocate and reconsider where I'll be shooting that day.

#gradedunit

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i-like-sparkly-things · 3 years

Text

Right in front of you

A Halstead!sister

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? Or being caught?"

Requested : Yes by @study-coffee-chicago : They found out she cheated on a test in high school...and Jay's the one who has to pick her up.

Warnings : angry!Jay (lots of it), alcohol, swearing, anxiety attacks

Note : I am so so so sorry this so longg 😭 I ended up so far away from the actual request kayela please don't block mee 😭 butt I've learned alot in writing abt active and passive voices and using more imagery Yayy!! I'm so glad that yall are ok with my grammar thank uu🥺

MASTERLIST HERE

The piles of homework and flashcards you needed to memorize had no end in sight, and now that Will was taking nightshifts along with his usual double shifts, and intelligence was tracking down an underground drug cartel, you spent most days alone, allowing your mind to engulf you.

Every time you sat down to study, you felt a striking pain in your chest. In mere seconds the air was sucked out of your lungs and you found yourself panting, desperate to get oxygen back into your body.

You would be surrounded by books and worksheets and you could swear the walls of your room were closing in towards you, trapping you in a sea of incomplete work.

You failed to follow the schedules and to do lists you had made for yourself. Staring at them, hoping the essays would write themselves.

All you needed, was a break. A moment to relax from anything and everything.

So when your best friend mentioned that her brother used to drink a little before he appeared for an exam, your mind was quick to catch on.

Last night you had borrowed a little bit of beer from Jay's stash of alcohol and took a few sips of it as you studied.

The more you drank, the less bitter it became. It was a weird, new sensation, but it worked nonetheless.

Except now, you were sitting in the girls bathroom at school, ramaging through your notes, trying to recollect what you had learned yesterday.

You saw what you had underlined and highlighted— names in pink and important dates in yellow—but your mind came up blank.

Flipping the pages you saw people in wigs, and castles burning to the ground —None of which you recognized.

A wave of anxiety rippled through you unable to comprehend your next thought —you were going to fail.

Your head was throbbing as you ran a hand down face, massaging your temples trying to calm yourself down.

You took out your water bottle that you had filled with beer and swallowed a few gulps, hoping that it would help you think straight.

You groaned, feeling the sting of alcohol at the back of your throat, popping some mints into your mouth, you ran towards the exam hall.

***

Your foot bounced on the polished wood floors as sweat pooled on your forehead.

You thought you were careful —only taking a peek from your friends answer sheet when Mrs.Ling's back was facing you.

Everything would have worked out if it wasn't for that kid sitting behind you. In a split second your teacher turned around, when he dropped his pen, to see you peering over your partner's desk.

Now you were sitting in the principles office praying that Jay wouldn't be the one picking you up.

You could already imagine his anger at you for pulling him away from his case, only to find you cheated.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.

You dare not look at Jay as he entered the office, letting out a huff as he sat down. You could feel the rage emitting him, tension filling the room, as he burned holes looking at you.

"I'll get straight to the point" Your principal started.

"Please" Jay growled, struggling to contain himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, when he got the call saying that you had cheated on your midterms.

You and Will were alike,at least he thought so, both good at science and math but weak at geography and history. Nonetheless you continued to secure good grades for the most part.

"Y/n here, was caught cheating from a classmates answer sheet. Our teacher caught her red handed. I truly did not expect this from you. These midterms cost thirty percent of your grade..... "

Pretty soon his voice was muffled like he was getting farther and farther away from you. His figure swayed in front of you as you squinted your eyes to keep him in the center of your vision.

" You are suspended, Mrs halstead"

Your eyes widened , your body choosing the perfect time to bring out what little beer you had taken when you heard those words, letting the alcohol mix with the adrenaline.

"WHAT??!! " Damn, alcohol really bought out your courage as Jay stared at you in shock at your audacity.

"Y/n, your lucky I'm letting you retake the exam. That's only because you've had a clean record so far. I strongly suggest you start preparing early Ms. halstead" your principal said in a firm but monotone voice that left you speechless.

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

Oh god. Every now and then, the ground would sway beneath you, tiles shifting in your vision. But you counted your steps, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting Jay to find out what else you had done........ until now.

You tilted your head, only to be met with your brother's piercing stare but little did he know, now it made it infinitely harder to concentrate on your walking.

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? *Or being caught?*"

***

You rested your head on the seat as Jay entered the truck, flinching, when he slammed the door shut. Your pounding headache was getting worse by the minute, as your ears started to ring.

You blinked a few times squinting to focus on the road ahead of you but the fast-moving cars and the loud horns made you feel like your head was going to explode.

"Y/n," he addressed you, much calmer now.

You forced yourself to turn to your brother, who wore a confused expression.

But the moment he saw your deshelfed hair and your cracked lips, a wave of worry crashed over him. What the hell?

The truck came to a stop at a red light and Jay immediately scanned you over "Y/n?" he grabbed your chin, his jaw dropping, as he came face to face with reality.

"Are you drunk!!?" he barked , steam basically pouring out of his ears.

But your pleading eyes and empty silence gave him the answer he needed. "Are you kidding me??" he snarled as he slammed the steering wheel.

Oh God no. A blinding pain ripped through your head when Jay's palms made contact with the hard plastic. You winched turning your head away from your furious brother, letting out a whimper.

Jay's eyes widened at the sound, his heart breaking, realizing the pain you were in.

If he was going to be mad at you or at least punish you, you needed to be sober.

He stepped on the pedal as the light turned green taking a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.

With the vice lords reclaiming their territory and selling uncut fentanyl, bodies were dropping all over the city most of them being kids.

Kids..... your age.

Every kid at the morgue, just reminded him of you. He saw parents sobbing, begging for their kids to come back but Jay new better. They were never going to come home. Ever.

So he made it a priority to catch these ruthless creatures. He made it a priority over his sleep, over nine hours shifts and unknown to him, over spending time with you.

"Hey , hey" he whispered, not wanting to hurt you again, "We'll talk about this later ok? for now...... just..... it's ok..... I've got you" here reached out his hand, the other still on the steering wheel, to slowly rub your back as you tried to breath through the pain.

" I got you"

***

Jay wrapped a hand around you allowing you to hold onto him for support.

Silently, he deposited you on the couch, laying you down. He knew that he wasn't in any state to talk to you. He needed to clear his mind from his racing thoughts and rueful images of dying teenagers.

His phone rang, indicating that the district was awaiting him. "Here" he reluctantly shook your shoulders "Y/n, I need to go ok? Will will be here soon"

***

Almost half an hour had passed and you were waiting for Will to get out of the shower. You'd heard Jay explain everything to him over the phone.

You thought about how disappointed he would be.

Will —being the nerd he was— always helped you with your projects and gave you pop quizzes during breakfast, before your exams. He taught you how to organize flashcards just like he did in med school.

Even through your blurry thoughts, the image of Will's betrayed face and embarrassed eyes, knowing you cheated, lingered on your mind.

Your body was all over the place. Tiny noises echoing through your ear. Your muscles simultaneously aching and loose.

You were shivering as you tried to curl up into a ball. Your body trying to hold what little heat it had within itself.

But nothing stopped your tears.

You felt water drops make their way down your cheeks forming small splotches of water on the cushion you laid your head on.

And you didn't bother to wipe them away.

Will more or less was in the same state you were in. There was a multi-vehicle accident on the highway and victims were piling in the ED. He was running from one treatment room to the other, waiting to get back home and crash.

Will walked over to you with a huge glass of water and an advil, gently nudging you to sit up.

Your head still pounded, your eyes zoning in and out of the figure in front of you "Y/n, here drink the whole glass and take this" Will soothed, placing the glass and the pill in your hand "I—I'm sorry" You whispered, distracting yourself from Will's eyes.

Will knew he should be angry. Just like Jay was but he couldn't bring himself to blaming you, not until he had the full story anyway.

You looked so petite on the enormous couch, your legs folded on top of each other, arms shaking as you drowned the glass of water along with the Advil.

Your red puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks,were a contrast from your usual self. or he thinks. He's been pretty busy lately, so he's not too sure. " We'll talk about it later. I'm not angry. I promise"

He assured and was about to head to bed himself when you grabbed his wrist.

If he wasn't angry at you then maybe— just maybe—he would help you.

"Stay" You pleaded , the word falling from your lips just as easily as it had, many, many times before.

And just like before, you were met with Will's soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, ready to help. Ready—to be by your side.

He's slowly nodded climbing onto the couch, next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you nestled into him, laying your head on his chest.

You found some comfort as he embraced you, talking you under his arm and encompassing you in his warmth.

Holding on to him, you hoped that he would take your pain away, just like he did when you were little.

***

Will woke up to an uncomfortable feeling of something —or someone— tugging at his shirt.

He slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the light as he felt another a tug at his side. He looked over to you, but your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, your arm laid across his chest.

You were holding on to Will , using him as a lifeline, grounding you from the pain.

You felt a hand squeezing your own, stopping you from gripping the fabric "Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look up at will who had tears of his own, staring at the state you were in "it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here"

He encircles you, tighter than before, whispering soothing assurances into your hair.

***

With Will's help, the pain slowly subsides, allowing you access to your thoughts again.

You step out of the shower, into the living room and your eyes widen seeing Jay and Will sitting at the kitchen counter.

You didn't even hear Jay come in, but right now taking in his hardened glare, you didn't dare ask.

You knew what was coming and you didn't fight. You couldn't.

"So apparently we're cheating on our midterms now, huh?" Jay's calm voice made shivers run down your spine, starting to take rapid breaths.

"And apparently, someone thinks it's ok to steal alcohol from my stash" He gritted, never breaking I contact with you. "Do you think that's how the world works Y/n? DO YOU? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU'RE STILL A FUCKING TEENAGER!!" He spat, his thoughts fuming towards your trembling body.

It was every dieing body flashing before his eyes, as the past months' agony slipped off his tongue.

"Jay" Will's voice was stern, giving a knowing look towards his younger brother and didn't bother to give Jay time to argue with him.

"Y/n, we need to know what's going on"

"With school, with tests with....... everything" he stated giving you a solemn look meaning every word he said, promising himself that he would do whatever it takes to figure out what had been going on.

You sucked in a breath weighing all your options. You didn't want them to think that you needed a babysitter or that you couldn't take care of yourself.

You knew that they had their own problems to worry about but you couldn't take it anymore.

You hated it.

The feeling of your lungs collapsing, struggling to find air for your body, your stress skyrocketing anytime you sat down to study, never getting any thing done.

All day long you would constantly tell yourself to do your work. Every spare second is spent in making a list of things you want to do but when it was time to actually do those things, your mind wandered and emptied.

You took another deep breath, looking up from your feet, your eyes meeting your brothers.

You spilled the past months events from how alone you were all the time and not being able to concentrate to how you ended up drunk at school and cheating on your midterms.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you your hands trembled. You stood crying in the middle of the room until you felt a pair of arms around you.

Will placed his hand at the nape of your neck as he stroked your back with the other "Breathe Y/n, just Breathe" He slowly pulled away leading you to the couch.

God, how he wished he could turn back time. Then he'd been more vigilant to notice the changes that had come over you.

You felt the couch dip on both sides but you intently studied your fingers, fumbling with the hem of your shirt and wiped the tears off your face. They were mad. No, they were furious. You knew it.

But for some reason, they weren't showing it. Maybe they were waiting-

"We're not mad"

You without your head around to look at Jay, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. Jay? Not mad? HA.

"but I am disappointed though, but that's only because you didn't tell us......

but stealing alcohol was bad too" he added, earning him a glare from Will.

"Y/n, what Jay means is— we could've helped with school . Homework . Tests . Anything, you name it. We will help" he assured, "But how do we know you need help, if you don't tell us?"

You sighed, taking in the weird turn of events that had happened before you. You had wasted all this time, trying to figure out all your problems out, when the answer was right in front of you.

A mountain of guilt now sat on Jay's shoulders, weighing down on him, pushing him deeper into a wormhole of 'if's'.

Maybe if he'd just been a little more careful, this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe if he'd stop and listen to you once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.

While trying to save kids out on the street, he forgot to care for the kid at home. You were his sister, and yet, here you are in front of him, barely keeping yourself together.

But that would change. Right here. *Right now.*

"Y/n," Jay started "If you would have told us how alone and stressed you were feeling.....I would've taken some time off... Maybe we'd watch a movie or something. All you had to do was ask...... And we'll get you the help you need, y/n. You good with that?" he questioned, his anger and frustration dissipating.

You saw your brother, the workaholic detective, wanting to put his job aside, for you .

You were more important to him, than his job—You realized.

" Yea... Yeah, I am"

Will stood up and got another advil with another glass of water. "and maybe you wouldn't end up drunk and cheating on your test" he smirked, crouching in front of you.

"God, I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I am never drinking again!" you smiled , as you drowned the pill.

"See now that's what I like to hear!!" Jay exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip, laughing, when you were joined by Will.

You know what? Maybe, things are going to be okay? Ya know?

__________________________

Read more of my fics here!!

Tagging : @girlandthemoon @herecomesthewriterwitch @megaliciab @meyocoko @alkadri-layal

#jay halstead #will halstead #chicago pd #chicago med #jay halstead x sister!reader #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #jay halstead one shot #will halstead oneshot #halstead brothers

317 notes · View notes

wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

Stress relief

mind your bisnuess I’m working through some shit

Atsumu x reader

warnings: smut, just- so much smut, Oral, car sex, fingering, Daddy kink, degradation, marking, ass play, dirty talk,Brat taming, slut shaming AND virgin shaming (we got it all folks), hair pulling, cum play, creampie, breading kink, drinking/ Drunk sex, angst annnnnd swearing.

word count: 4,800 (about) (yes really get off my back)

summary: Atsumu is a dick, but he’s got a good dick at least you have no idea how mad I am I’ve already used the title Enemy with Benifits.

“Are- Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, Atsumu just shrugged.

“No, I’m not fucking kidding you what’s your deal?” he said casually. You took a deep breath. You had been trying to work on your anger issues, Not blowing up on people over nothing. But this really felt like something worth blowing up over.

“Myia, be honest with me, do you think I’m stupid?” you asked. He smirked.

“I think you’re a lot of things babe-” you stood up getting in his face jabbing your finger in his chest cutting off his no doubt horrendous flirting.

“You fucking ripped off you’re entire part of the project! How the fuck did you think no one would notice?” you shouted. You had known this was going to be a train wreck the moment Atsumu was assigned as your partner. He was such a fucking moron, he’d only gotten into this College because of his sports scholarship. You would have been better working on your own.

“I cited the article I copied, what's the deal?” he snapped, the volume of your voice irking him.

“That’s not how this fucking works you can’t just hit copy-paste and call it a day the point is you come up with your own ideas, although in your defense I’m not sure you’re brain could manage something like that,” you shouted. He sneared.

“I’ll rewrite it just stop being a bitch alright?” he scoffed, turning to leave your dorm room. You wanted to hit him, how dare he call you a bitch when you were just looking out for his dumb ass. Even high schoolers knew you’d be expelled for plagiarising. Once Atsumu left you slumped back in your seat looking at the presentation open on your laptop. You were already so busy but somehow you’d have to find enough time to do half of the project unless you wanted to fail that was.

“Hey, you’re working with (y/n) on your project right?” Osamu asked, setting his volleyball up in the air over and over again.

“Yeah, they totally blew up on me today so now I gotta redo the whole thing,” Atsumu sighed

“They’re hot though,” his brother said. Atsumu smiled to himself, remembering your angry face as you chewed him out.

“Really hot,” he agreed.

“Are you gonna fuck them?”

“Of course, they might an asshole but they want me,”

“Hey (y/n),” you looked up at the sound of your name only to groan seeing Atsumu run towards you. He had clearly just come from practice, he was still in his jersey. Fucking jocks.

He probably thought he looked hot, with a light sheen of sweat that made his skin glow and tousled hair. He did look hot, it made you want to kick his shins.

“If you aren’t going to tell me that you finished your half of the presentation I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped.

“Well then you aren’t going to be happy then but there’s a game this weekend, you should come, cheer for me,” he said winking. You rolled your eyes.

“I was already planning on going, but you’re nuts if you think I’m gonna cheer for you,” you snapped, still a little heated about your last encounter with him.

“And why not?” he asked, smirking, it pissed you off. You just knew he thought he looked so cute smiling at you like that.

“I cheer for winners,”

You and Atsumu were at each other’s throats for the rest of the year. Atsumu Gave up on his plan to sleep with you and you gave up on your anger management, at least around him. If other people were in this situation they might stay away from their sworn enemy, but not you two.

You made it to every volleyball game just to tell Osamu how great he did and how handsome he was looking today. Atsumu sat next to you in every class you shared talking your ear off making sure that you didn’t learn a damn thing.

It was annoying as hell, you wanted to strangle him, but it was nice in a kind of way. If you were stressed or pissed off you could drag Atsumu as a little fun. And even if nothing else in your life was going right. You could always count on this blonde dick to be the worst to you.

“Damn we had the exterminator here last week but there’s a roach right here,” Atsumu sneered over the thumping music at the party. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“You need to look up more insults you’ve already used that one,” you barked back, normally seeing Atsumu would be enough to dampen your mood but the booze must have been doing its job because you still felt all light and buzzed.

“Beer?” he asked, holding up a bottle for you, ever the gracious host.

“I’m good,” you said holding up the can of seltzer you’d been drinking out of it was fruity and only had a little bite to it, you were already on your third one.

“Right I forgot that a baby like you couldn’t handle the taste of beer,” he scoffed, he was closer now, towering over you and pressing one of his forearms to the wall by your head as he leaned over you, shielding you from the rest of the party. You never realized before how big he was. Tall and wide. Muscular too, it was no wonder half the people at the Volleyball games creamed themselves just seeing him.

“You’re such a dick, why do you always have to be so mean?” you asked before even realizing the words that you’d spoken.

“You aren’t exactly nice either princess, besides that’s how this works, that’s our dynamic,” he said. He must be pretty drunk too. Nothing he was saying was making any sense.

“Still, how do you expect anyone to put up with you when you’re such a douche bag all the time?” you said the anger you associated with Atsumu finally setting in.

“If it works it works, I mean you’re obsessed with me,” he said. You gagged and shoved his chest, he didn’t move, god how strong was he?

“Fuck off I hate you, why would I be obsessed with you? God you think that the world fucking revolves around you. How could any-”

His lips met yours effectively shutting you up. His hand came up cupping the back of your head and you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, pressing your body against his and dropping your drink so your hands would be free to rake through his hair. You weren’t nice about the kiss either, your teeth gnashed against his when he tried to push his tongue into your mouth. You bit his lower lip and tugged at his hair, moaning against his mouth when he did the same to you.

He broke away breathlessly, still holding you close to his body while you caught your breath. He was so pretty his cheeks flushed his lips wet and glossy. God, you wanted to kiss him again, even if he tasted like beer and he had been right in his assessment that you weren’t a big fan of the taste.

“Good to know theirs one way to shut you the fuck up,” he teased. You groaned in frustration pulling him back down into another kiss. This one was just as passionate and fierce as the first. He pushed you against the wall and pulled up one of your legs and forced it around his waist so he could grind against you. You shuddered feeling him rut the seam of your jeans against your clit.

“Woulda fucked you a lot sooner if i'd known you made such pretty noises when you were touched,” he muttered reaching up and palming your breast through your shirt. Atsumu started kissing, or maybe biting was a better word. The top part of your neck even pays some attention to your jaw and earlobe while he humped and groped you.

“I knew you were a pervert but I never knew you were filthy enough to fuck me out in the open like this,” you gasped, tugging at his hair. You could feel your panties get sticky with your arousal and you wanted him to take you out of here and fuck you already.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you?” he asked, pulling back so he could look at you and smirk. You smiled back, the fight wasn’t out of you yet.

“Why would I do that? I’d rather sleep with someone who could make me cum,” you spat and his grin quickly fell, there was a competitive fire in his eyes that you normally only saw when he was playing.

“Oh Daddy’s gonna make you cum you fucking brat, I’ll make you squirt, you’re gonna cry with how good my dick feels,” he growled in a low voice you’d never heard before and suddenly you were regretting your comment.

“Daddy?” you snorted

Atsumu detangled himself from you and grabbed you by the wrist tugging you out of the frat house and to his car. You shook your head and broke free of his iron-clad grasp.

“I know you’re stupid but this is a new low, both of us are way too drunk to drive,” you shouted. Atsumu just laughed at you, opening the back door to his car.

“We aren’t driving dumbass now get in,” he said. You bit your lip and slid into the back seat shortly followed by Atsumu who locked the door behind him.

The seat wasn’t large but it was big enough to move around in. He pressed you onto the leather upholstery, your legs bent and splayed out at an awkward angle to fit him between them. He went back to kissing you sloppily while his hands went to work taking off your shirt and bra.

Your nipples hardened once the cold night air touched you. “Wanted to suck on your pretty tits for the longest time,” he groaned quickly lowering his head, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he fingered the other twisting and pinching it. You yelped when his teeth grazed over the bud. His eyes flicked up to yours and he let go of the spit-soaked nipple blowing on it lightly making you shiver.

“How long has it been since you’ve been fucked huh? So many guys want to fuck this sweet little pussy but you’re too stuck up to let that happen.” he snears sucking the other nipple into his mouth.

“Bet you’re still a fucking virgin,” he said speaking around your mouth.

“ I a-am not,” you whined, you’d lost your virginity in high school, but you really hadn’t gotten fucked since then.

“Oh listen to you whine you totally are,” he scoffed

“No I’m Not!” you protested he let go of your nipple and kissed you again threading his fingers through your hair and pressing your face to his.

“Shut up you fucking virgin,” he said sweetly, before pulling off his shirt, and before you could admire his chiseled chest he distracted you by biting your neck again. You pressed your hand to the center console to keep from slipping off with one hand and clinging to his shoulders with the other.

Atsumu deftly unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hands in your pants touching your through your soaked underwear. You felt him smirk against your neck but he didn’t make any remark about it. Good thing for him too because you could feel his hard prick pressing up against your thigh and you were ready to drag him for it if he commented on your own arousal.

God, you could feel his cock. It was big, heavy, and hard, pressed against your leg. You wanted to see it, touch it, feel it inside of you. He’d pushed your panties to the side now so he could push his large fingers inside brushing against your velvet walls.

“A-Atsumu,” you said, pitching your leg up to rub against his dick. “I want to suck your cock,” you whimpered. You felt him twitch.

“Here I thought you were a virgin but you’re just a slutty whore aren't cha?” he growled against your neck picking your hips up and yanking your pants down your legs leaving them pooled around your ankles leaving you to kick your jeans off completely. You felt a little stupid naked except for your shoes but Atsumu quickly distracted you by folding you in half pressing your knees to your chest and leaving your pussy completely exposed.

“I’ll fuck your throat later, right now I gotta make you cum remember?” he said playing his hands over your thighs keeping g you folded before lowering his head and diving into your folds like a man starved.

Just like he kissed you, he was mean about it, sucking so harshly that you cried out and spanking your cunt just to make you jump. The only time he pulled back was to spit on your asshole lubing it up enough to slip a finger inside.

“Sumu please,” you cried out as he filled you with his tongue pressing against your G-spot over and over again while he pinched your clit. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. He just hummed in acknowledgment, whatever you were begging for he wasn’t going to have it.

“Daddy,” you pleaded, finally caving. Atsumu smiled to himself. He wasn’t nice but he did reward good behavior.

He switched it up sucking your clit into your mouth and plunging the fingers of his clean hand, the one that hadn’t just been your ass, inside of you curling up and pressing against your g-pot over and over again until you came screaming so loud that you were sure people back at the house could hear you.

“See didn’t that feel good slut?” he cooed condescendingly. There was a pool of cum beneath you soaking into the leather seats. Good thing this was Osamus’s car. Now all he had to do was make you cry.

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whined.

“Oh? Which is it? Are you not a virgin or are you not a slut?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks. You didn’t know how to respond.

“Well I think you’re a slut, Daddy’s little slut,” he snapped.

There was a dark stain of precum staining his jeans where the head of his cock was leaking he quickly shoved down his pants and boxers before sitting down and pulling you into his lap. You hovered above him as he pumped his cock in his hand running the head of his cock through your soaked folds and bumping your clit.

“You’re gonna be a good whore and ride Daddy’s cock right?” he asked, lining the head of his dick up with your entrance. You bit your lip and nodded, shakily lowering yourself down on him. Atsumu hissed feeling your tight heat wrap around him.

You gripped his shoulders feeling how well he filled you up, the tip pressing against your cervix. You took a minute to adjust before lifting yourself up on your knees and started to fuck yourself onto him.

Atsumu brought you close and kissed you again, one of his hands slipping between your bodies to stroke your clit while you bounced up and down on his cock. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he touched you. He filled you up so well, you had teased him about not being able to get you off but even you couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him so deep inside of you.

“You feel that baby? You feel Daddy pressing up against your Cervix, I’m going to blow my fat load right into your slutty little womb,” he snarled his hips snapping up to meet yours. You whined, throwing your head back in pleasure, almost hitting your head on the headrest.

“Gonna knock you up, gonna stuff this slutty pussy with cum,” he growled, he was talking more to himself but you couldn’t help but shudder at his words. You were on birth control but you desperately wanted him to fill you up.

“Are you gonna cum princess?” He asked, “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock like that, you’re gonna cum.” He was right, you could feel a second orgasm welling up in your core as his cock pulsed inside of you.

“Atsumu-Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned kissing him sloppily, your hips faltered when you came but Atsumu’s hands went to your hips moving your body for you as he chased his own high, true to his word he came deep inside of you filling you up and pressing his cock against your cervix.

You collapsed against his chest gasping for breath. He ran his hand soothingly over your back.

“You look tired, you wanna crash somewhere babe?” he asked.

“We’re still too drunk to drive,” you murmured.

“I have a buddy in the frat house, I’m sure he’ll let me steal his bed for the night, especially for a cutie like you,” he said. You pulled back to look at him.

“You had a bed here this whole time and you still made me fuck you in the car?”

When you woke up your whole body hurt. Your head ached your eyes stung and your body was littered with bruises. You didn’t even want to check in with the lower half of your body. You groaned sitting up in bed clutching your head. Then you felt the bed beside you shift, you froze remembering how you’d ended last night.

Atsumu cracked one eye open and his face split into a huge grin. “I had the best dream last night-” he teased you and moved to hit him but he caught your wrist and flipped you on your back pinning you to the bed.

He hovered above you his breath hitting your face in soft puffs. You leaned up and kissed him, suddenly you were a mess of limbs and hands trying to tear each other’s clothes off while you kissed. You hissed as his fingers grazed the bite marks on your neck.

“Go easy on me I’m still sore,” you complained. Atsumu smirked.

“Did I wreck you that badly baby?” he asked, teasingly grinding his morning wood on your leg. You shuddered.

“Shut up and fuck me asshole,” you demand. He tugged off your underwear and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“As you wish your majesty,” he scoffed and slowly pushed two of his fingers into you

Your cunt ached and it hurt to feel his fingers prod you open, but soon the pain dissolved into pleasure as he continued to finger you.

“Such a pretty wet little cunt, so wet and sticky for me,” he purred, “you like this slut? You like getting fingered first thing in the morning?” he asked.

“Do you like humping my ass like a fucking dog first thing in the morning?” you spat back. He grunted and roughly jerked his finger up hitting your G-spot making you cry out your back arching off the bed.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffed before completely pulling his fingers out and sticking them into his mouth sucking on your juices.

“I’m not gonna fuck you if you keep being mean,” he said shoving down his own clothes

“Shut up, I bet I’m the only one you know who lets you get your dick wet,” you growled. He snapped into you in one swift motion. You cried out your nails digging into his shoulders. It hurt but the pain sent a rush of endorphins making you moan.

“Really you think that I could fuck you like this without any practice dollface? Don’t forget you’re the virgin here,” he teased drawing his hips back before ramming back into you. This pace was much harsher than what you’d set last night. You were helpless, and entirely at his mercy, he had you folded in half, and you could only moan and scratch at his back.

“Imna fill this cunt with cum, nothing better than emptying my balls in your warm cunt first thing in the morning,” he muttered to himself as he continued to fuck you.

“Already?” you teased.

“Fuck off or I’ll fuck you until you pass out,” he threatened.

“Hurry up and make me cum, I’ve got shit to do today,” you snapped.

“God do you ever stop being a bitch?” he asked, pulling out of you and flipping you over, jerking your hips up and sliding back into you. you moaned feeling his cock hit new sweet spots. You arched your back pressing your hips to his and burying your face into the pillows.

The bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall with a loud bang. Atsumu brought his hand down on your ass making you jump, it stung and you were reminded of his killer serves that you had seen so many times.

“There, no more bitchy comebacks? Have you gone braindead on my cock?” he mocked spanking you again.

“Daddy!” you pleaded. Your thighs trembling as wetness dripped down your legs.

“Awe theirs my sweet little slut, ready to be good now?”

“Y-yes,” you whined desperate to cum. Atsumu grunted and finally went easy on you, rubbing your clit and easing into you in slow, deep thrusts until he felt your pussy cream around him.

“There you go baby,” he said pulling out of you, his hard cock dripping in your juices. “You still want to suck on my cock?” he asked. You bit your lower lip, embarrassed at the memory. You shifted on the bed settling in between his legs taking the head of his cock into your mouth and wrapping your hands around the rest of his dick.

You licked softly at the slit in the head picking up the bitter precum with your tongue. You slowly took more of his cock in your mouth hollowing your cheeks out around him. His dick was just too big for you to fit completely into your mouth so you moved your hands up and down his shaft while you took as much of him as you could, swirling your tongue around the head.

“You’re doing so well baby,” he moaned, smoothing your hair back from your face. “I didn’t think a virgin like you’d be so good,” he teased. You glared up at him as you continued to suck his dick but you resolved to bite him if he made a comment like that again.

“I think I like you better like this you’re so pretty when you shut the- OW watch the teeth,”

You could taste it as the precum dribbled out of his cock smearing over your tongue, you were getting used to the bitter taste and it wasn’t that bad. You pushed your head down pressing his cock to the back of your throat suppressing your gag reflex.

“Fuck, baby just like that i’m going to cum down your thoat,” he groaned his hips stuttering upwards pushing his dick down your throat deaper making you choke. Atsumu didn’t care,he was moaning loudly as his hips spasmed up into your mouth.

You choked when his semen flooded your mouth. “Fuuck,” he sighed, pulling out of your mouth. You sluptered trying to catch the mess that bubbled out of your mouth.

“Ah, swallow what you can baby,” Atsumu said, whipping your chin with his thumb. You did as he asked, choking down what you could. He pushed you back on the bed kissing your neck, his lips running over your bruises,

“I like you like this, we should fuck more often he teased,” you shoved his chest, but weakly, it was clearly just for show. You didn’t want to admit it but you agreed with him.

You kept seeing Atsumu after that. He was a little nicer with you normally. Or at least, he saved his mean side for the bedroom and was a little sweeter to you. If you were a little more naive you might have even started to fall for him a little bit.

That was the Chliche right? You start out hating someone but then after a few nights of passion you were in love? Bullshit, it was all Bullshit.

you knew Atsumu hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t exactly saving himself for you. You couldn’t count how many times you’d walked in on him making out with some random chick, you’d even walked in on him while he’d been balls deep in some other girl.

That being said, you hadn’t changed either. you still had a temper like no other and were quick to snap, especially at Atsumu. You didn’t have many friends who put up with your bullshit so why would He even fall in love with you?

You shouldn’t be in love with him. He was an asshole, a heartless fuck boy. So why did you like him so much? why did it sting when you thought about how hopless your whole situation.

It sucked, this whole thing was just awful. That being said, you still jumped at the chance to see him everytime he called, you really were hopless.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Atsumu drove. You didn’t recognize this street and you knew you weren’t going to his place.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. You scoffed and crossed your arms. He pulled into a parking lot and you were surprised to see you were at a park.

“What are you going to fuck me on the slide?” you asked, following him out of the car and into the park.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid, me and my brother would play here,” he said, ignoring you and walking to the swings, you followed.

“And I still come here a lot, it’s a good place to think and it’s just a really special place for me,” he said sitting on the swing and gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

You did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “I don’t like where this conversation is going,” you said furrowing your eyebrows. It was almost the middle of the night so it was dark but you could still see the dopey lovestruck look on his face.

“Stumu, you’re not supposed to call me for stuff like this,” you said unwrapping your arms around his neck, you were going to get off his lap but he wrapped his arms around his waist keeping you there.

The two of you had agreed only to call each other when you wanted sex, this mushy romantic shit was defently not sex.

“You’re so pretty baby, let me be nice to you,” he said kissing you and you melted into him, just like every time he kissed you.

“You’re never nice to me,” you protested. He reached under your shirt groping you.

“Because you never let me,” he protested.

“What’s with you?” you asked, grabbing his wrist and shoving him away from you.

“I love you,” he said. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you got off his lap and started walking back to the car

“Take me home,” you demanded. “I don’t want to talk about this,” you said.

“(y/n)-” he said running in front of you stopping you.

“Please, I know you hate this shit, but please can we talk,” he pleaded taking your hands in his,

“You can’t just say shit like that Tsumu! We’re not supposed to love each other we’re supposed to fuck and get under eachother’s skin and fight that’s how this works!” you shouted.

Atsumu kissed your knuckles, seeming to ignore your yelling.

“We didn’t used to fuck either, we used to just get under eachother’s skin,” he pointed out. He wrapped you in his arms. You pressed your face to his chest and you felt your cheeks get wet with tears. You hiccupped and sobbed, trying to keep your emotions bottled up was hard.

“I love you,” he said again. You shoved him and whipped your face.

“I don’t want to do this Atsumu, take me home,” you demanded. He deflated.

“Okay baby, let's go home, I’ll be waiting, when you’re ready,” he said rubbing your shoulders and taking you back to his car.

You drove in silence. You hated this. Yout hated him. Atsumu was a playboy, an idiot and an asshole who only cared about Volleyball. You just wanted to insult him and fuck him to blow off steam. You weren’t supposed to fall for him. You weren’t supposed to love his cocky smile and his stupid jokes. His stupid flirty remarks weren’t supposed to make you blush.

“Baby?” he prompted you blinked and saw you were sitting in front of your dorm building. “Hey,” he purred, wiping the tears off your cheeks. You didn’t need him to tell you that he loved you, you could tell every time he did something like this. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“I really wished we’d had sex tonight,” you whispered. He laughed.

“fuck am I really that ireaistable doll?” he teased, pinching your cheek as he pulled away.

“I do love you Atsumu, I just- I just don’t know what to do about it,” you admitted. Atsumu smiled lazily.

you meant it too, you loved him so much. but it was impossible to get the image of the time you walked in on him sleeping with another girl out of your mind. Was that what it meant to be in a relationship with him? If so then you weren’t going to do it, you weren’t signing yourself up for that kind of heartbreak. Maybe you should just give up on him and block him.

“Like I said. I’ll wait for you, and next time I promise we’ll have the best sex of your life-Not that’s a hard bar to clear you virigin,” he teased. You smiled and playfully hit him in the arm. You got out of his car and walked into your building as he drove away, and at least for tonight. That was enough.

#haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n)'s POV

I remember feeling weightless, like I'm being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time.

I sit, dazed, my head pressed against the dashboard as blood runs down my face.

"(Y/n)!" I hear Mom yell; I feel Mom's hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.

"I - I'm okay," I croak, leaning back against my seat, trying to shake off my daze.

I notice that we had swerved into a ditch. The driver's-side doors are wedged in the mud and the roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain is pouring in.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Mom says, "we have to . . ." her voice falters.

I look back, blood dribbling down the side of my head. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-splattered rear windshield, I see a figure lumbering towards us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of whatever it is makes my skin crawl. It is a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seems to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half is bulky and fuzzy. His raised hands make it look like he had horns.

"Who is -" Percy asks.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Mom says, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

Mom throws herself against the driver's side door. It is jammed in the mud. I try my door, but it's stuck too. I look desperately at the hole in the roof. It might be an exit, but the eyes are sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out Percy's door!" Mom tells me, Percy already having pulled the unconscious Grover from the car. "You have to run! Do you see that big tree?"

"What?" I ask, and blood drips down onto my arm.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I see the tree she meant: a huge, White House sized Christmas tree - sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," Mom says. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too."

Mom's face is pale, her eyes as sad as when she looks at the ocean.

"You are coming with us," I argue.

The man with the blanket on his head creeps towards us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he gets closer, I realize he can't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands - his huge meaty hands - are swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. That means the bulky, fuzzy mass that is too big to be his head . . . is his head. And the points that look like horns . . .

"He doesn't want us," Mom tells me. "He wants you and Percy. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But . . ."

"We don't have time (Y/n)," Mom says, and I catch her watery eyes. "Go. Please."

I get mad then, mad at Mom, mad at Grover, who Percy is having to drag up the hill, and mad at the thing that is lumbering towards us slowly and deliberately like a bull.

I climb into the backseat of the car, tugging Mom's arm. "We're all going together," I say. "Come on, Mom."

"I told you -"

"Mom!" I look into Mom's sea-green eyes that match mine and Percy's. "I am not leaving you."

I scramble out of the car, pulling Mom with me, and I turn to look at the monster. He is seven feet tall, easily, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine - bulging biceps and triceps. He wears no clothes except a pair of bright white Fruit of the Looms - which would've looked funny except the top half of his body is terrifying. Coarse brown hair starts at his belly button and gets thicker as it reaches his shoulders. His neck is a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which has a snout as long at my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns - enormous black-and-white horns with points that you just can't get form one of those electric pencil sharpeners.

I recognize the monster, but he can't be real.

I blink the rain out of my eyes. "That's the -"

"Pasiphae's son," my mother says. "I wish I'd known had badly they wanted to kill you and Percy."

"But he's the Min -"

"Don't say his name," she warms. "Names have power."

The pine tree is too far away, a hundred yards uphill at least. Percy was halfway up the hill, still struggling with Grover the saytr.

I glance behind me again.

The Minotaur hunches over our car, looking in the windows - or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I'm not sure why he bothers, since we're more than fifty feet away.

I give Mom a slight push, and the two of us start up the hill towards Percy and Grover. Mom takes one of Grover's arms, and Percy takes the other, and I look back down the hill.

The Minotaur bellows with rage. He picks up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raises the car over his head and throws it down the road. It slams into the wet asphalt and skids in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank explodes.

Not a scratch! I remember Gabe saying. Oops.

"(Y/n), Percy," Mom says. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way - directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's changing. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?" Percy asks Mom.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But -" Percy falters.

Another bellow of rage, and the Minotaur starts tromping uphill.

He had smelled us.

The pine tree is only a few more yards, but the hill his getting steeper and slicker, and it doesn't look like he's getting any lighter, so I move up to help.

The bull-man closes in. Another few seconds, he'd be in front of us.

Mom and Percy must've been exhausted, but they shoulder Grover. "Go, (Y/n)! Separate! Remember what I said," Mom says. "Percy and I will go this way."

I don't want to split up, but I have the feeling that she is right.

I sprint to the left, turn, and see the creature bearing down on me, his black eyes glaring with hate.

The Minotaur lowers his head and charges, razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The fear in my stomach makes me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun the bull-man. I hold my ground, and at the last moment, I jump to the side. I roll instinctively, ending back on my feet.

The Minotaur storms past like a freight train, then bellows with rage. He turns, but not towards me this time, but towards Mom and Percy, who were setting Grover down in the grass.

We'd reached the crest of the hill; down the other side I can see a valley, just as mom had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that is almost half a mile away. We'd never make it.

The bull-man grunts, pawing the ground. He keeps eyeing Mom and Percy, who seem to be retreating, trying to lead the monster away from the unconscious Grover.

"Run, (Y/n)!" Mom tells me. "We can't go any farther. Run!"

I stand, frozen in fear, as the monster charges at my mother and brother. They both try to sidestep on opposite directions, as Mom had told me to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. Both hands shoot out and grab Mom and Percy by the necks as they try to get out of the way. The bull-man lifts them as they struggle, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom! Percy!" I scream.

Mom catches my eyes, manages to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closes his fists around my mom and twin's necks. They dissolve before my eyes, melting into light, shimmering golden forms, as though they are holographic projections. A blinding flash, and they are simply . . . gone.

"No!" Anger had replaced my fear; newfound strength burns in my limbs.

The Minotaur bears down on Grover, who lies helpless in the grass. The monster hunches over, snuffling at my brother's best friend, as if he is about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.

I rip off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I roar, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turns toward me, shaking his meaty fists.

I have an idea - a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and wave my red jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking I'd just jump out of the way at the last moment.

The Minotaur charges, his arms out to grab me whichever way I tried to dodge.

Time slows down.

My legs tense. I couldn't jump sideways, so I jump straight up, kicking off from the monster's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

How did I do that? A millisecond later, the monster's head slams into the tree and the impact nearly knocks my teeth out.

The bull-man staggers around, trying to shake me off. I lock my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning are still going strong. A mix of blood and rain in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burning my nostrils.

The monster shakes himself around and bucks like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I'm starting to realize that this thing had only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover had started groaning in the grass. I want to yell at him to shut up, but the way I'm getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off.

"Food!" Grover moans.

The bull-man wheels toward him, paws the ground again, and gets ready to charge. I think about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother and brother, made them disappear in a flash of light, and rage fills me like highoctane fuel. I wrap both hands around one horn and I pull backward with all my might. The monster tenses, gives a surprised grunt, then - snap!

The Minotaur screams and flings me through the air. I land flat on my back in the grass. My head slams against a rock. When I sit up, my vision is blurry, but I have a horn in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.

The monster charges.

Without thinking, I roll to one side and come up kneeling. As the monster barrels past, I drive the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage. The bull-man roars in agony. He flails, clawing at his chest, then begins to disintegrate—not like my mother and brother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm is still rumbling, but only in the distance. I smell like livestock and my knees are shaking. My head feels like it's splitting in three. I'm weak, scared, and trembling with grief and pain. I'd just seen my mother and brother vanish. I want to lie down and cry, but Grover needed my help, so I manage to haul him up and stagger down into teh valley towards the lights of the farmhouse. I'm crying, calling for Mom and Percy, but I hold onto Grover. I couldn't let him go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's.

They both look down at me, and the girl murmurs, "She's the one. She must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the bearded man - Percy's Latin teacher, Mr. Brunner - says. "She's still conscious. Bring her inside."

Word Count: 2101 words

#annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase x fem reader #annabeth chase x female reader

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sweetbunnykook · 3 years

Text

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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