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neonacity · 2 years

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ARCANE | CH.9 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When you decided to apply for a researcher post in an elusive institute, you already had the feeling that you’ll be getting yourself knee-deep into something out of the ordinary. But desperate needs require desperate measures, and so you embraced the invite, despite all the alarm signals urging you to run away. What you found out was nothing you’d ever expected.

Seven boys.

Seven human deviants granted with abilities tied to the legendary Arcana Cards.

Welcome to Project Dream.

Pairing: Various Dream Members x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: violence, torture, trauma, very slight yandere themes, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. Romance will take a little bit of a backseat on this one since this is more of a suspense-driven plot, but it will still be threaded in the overall story. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI.

> CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6 | CH.7 | CH.8

Chapter Song:

Mad Hatter > Melanie Martinez | Middle Finger > Bohnes

The glow of your phone screen threw harsh shadows against the walls of your room. You’ve been sitting on your bed in the dark for god knows how long now, still wearing the same outdoor clothes and muddy boots from your trek to Rosewood. You barely have any idea what happened in the space of time after you've discovered the framed pictures in the strange room, but somehow, you've managed to haul yourself back home in one piece.

Well, maybe 'managed' is too far reaching for a word to use.

Ten and Kun have kept quiet for most of the ride, but you know both boys were able to catch onto something from the way your phone was blowing up at the moment from texts from both of them. You ignored everything, not only because you have questions you can’t answer yourself, but because you don’t think you have it in you anymore to convince them that you’ve only seen one lead during your search—the shot of the seven boys that proves they were indeed occupants of Rosewood. You just felt drained. Maybe even numb, except for that one seedling of emotion that has been slowly weighing down your chest every passing second.

You took a second to put a name on it, turning it in your head despite your focus trying to shut down on you.

It wasn’t surprise.

Not even desperation.

It was way worse.

It was betrayal.

The call tone of your phone fell on deaf ears as your hands tightened around your blankets. Your chest was hurting and the back of your eyes felt hot even though they remained dry. Before you even realized what you were doing, you hurled yourself up from your bed and grabbed your phone. Kun's name was flashing on it, but you quickly swiped the ignore button as you hurried to the door, hands grabbing your car keys and nothing else.

*******

Cypher looked even more ominous at night. With the lights dimmed down and the hallways almost empty, your hurried steps sounded louder and foreboding as they bounced against the pristine white walls of the Institute. While you would have come in here with a little bit more caution before, your eyes stared ahead now, your jaw set as you went down the corridor you’ve walked so many times in the past few months since you signed up to this mess. For some reason, you just know where to go, despite not even having the confirmation that you’ll find what you were looking for. Briefly, your conversation with Renjun back at the greenhouse flashed through your mind again as you made a turn at the corner.

“She knew what she was doing when she put you there as bait.”

“And I don’t understand why. Why me?”

“Maybe because we’re interested in you.”

“None of you even know me.”

“That’s debatable.”

You gritted your teeth now as the words echoed in your head. They didn’t make sense before, but they do now, like a sick punchline to a joke you were too late to realize was about you.

They know.

They’ve always known.

You stopped on your tracks at the far door at the end of hallway, the same one where you’ve first met them from behind the camera lens. Without wasting another second, you swiped your ID pass on it before pushing it open.

Seven pairs of eyes swiveled towards you in unison, their owners seemingly caught in the middle of conversation. Haechan and Mark were in the middle of a game of pool when they looked up while Jisung and Chenle were on the sidelines, fixing the billiard balls. Renjun was sitting with Jaemin on the bubble seats close to the pool table and next to them was Jeno who was leaning against the wall. Your eyes briefly went over each of their faces, your chest constricting as you took all of them in. Chenle, who was closest to where you are, gave you his usual beaming smile while the others looked on with the same pleasant surprise at your sudden barging.

“Noona. Why are you here? It’s the weekend—”

“Who are you. All of you.”

Your voice sounded hard and on edge when you cut him off. You didn’t even realize how your shoulders started to slightly shake, your hands balling on your sides as you tried to steady yourself. It didn’t even take them two seconds to get what you were talking about, the air in the room shifting as their smiles slowly bled from their faces.

You thought you heard your heart break in the silence that followed.

“Princess…”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” you finally snapped as you turned towards Haechan. The boy immediately stopped, but the look he gave you didn’t calm any of the emotions now threatening to pull you under. Instead, you turned towards Mark who you noticed just stepped a little closer to where you are. He kept his distance, but the way he held himself somehow told you he wanted to make another move. You shook your head at him.

“Why do you know my father?”

The moment you said that, you saw a look of guilt flash in his eyes. His jaw locked, as if he was looking for the right words to answer you with.

“You went to Rosewood…” Renjun filled up the momentary silence as he picked himself up from his seat. His gaze was full of understanding, and for a brief second you wondered if he was getting inside your head again. This time, however, you didn’t care. If anything, you wanted him to do it, just so he can spare you from trying to sift through all the questions that were almost making you feel numb.

“Yes. Like you planned to,” you said, your voice shaking. You reached out for your phone and showed it to them, the screen frozen on the photo you took of them with the man. All of their expressions changed—some with pain, others with guilt. “How do you know him?”

Mark finally decided to break the silence.

“He’s… the Headmaster of our school.”

His reply made you frown.

“Since when? Did you know him for a long time?”

He exchanged glances with Renjun before nodding.

“He was there… before we were even sent to the orphanage. He helped raise us. We knew him since we were kids.”

It felt like every fiber in your body lost its sense of feeling. You looked at him defeated, an expression he reflected back at you with the same look of guilt everyone else was wearing. It was the answer you were expecting, but also the one you were praying not to hear because it only proves one thing. All those nights he left you. All the days you grew up wanting nothing more but a parent…

He was being a father to them instead.

You’ve never hated the man. Even with all the holidays spent alone, the closed doors, and the story books never read, you never hated him, mostly because he wasn’t even there that much in your life for your relationship to breed such an intense emotion. At one point, you’ve trained yourself to live with the fact that your father has dedicated himself to his work. You didn’t exactly know what it is that he was doing, but you were able to convince yourself that he has submitted himself to a grand purpose. Maybe he was trying to save the world. Maybe what he was doing can change the lives of many for the better. Because what else can be more important than those kinds of lofty, heroic goals that can push someone to always put their own daughter—their only remaining family—in the back burner?

As it turns out, seven boys is all it takes. Them and probably others who have gotten the same care and attention from him that you haven’t had a taste of yourself.

“Did you know… that I am his daughter all along?”

The air in the room has gotten so heavy that you could swear you were almost choking on it. Jaemin answered, his voice low and calm.

“Yes… We figured it out.”

“Where is he now? Do you know why he left?”

This time, nobody dared give you a reply. Nobody even looked up to meet your eyes. It was too much for you that after a while you actually crossed the room and reached out to Mark.

“Please. You don’t understand. He’s the only family I have. Give him back to me.”

Any other time and you would have flinched at the way your voice broke. After all, you’ve worked so hard to never to let anyone see inside of the walls you’ve painstakingly worked to build around yourself. But you couldn’t care this time, not even when the look Mark gave you told you that you wouldn’t like his answer. You could see it—how he was being torn from the inside too.

“I wish we could, but we don’t know where he is. He—your father… tried to protect us. Cypher was after him first because he knew everything about the Arcana holders. He went away to take them far away from us, and we haven’t seen him since.”

Your were convinced your heart had stopped beating for a moment as his words sunk in. You stared at him, hoping you could see any trace of lies in his face, only for you to be let down again. Nobody dared move or say anything in the room. You didn’t exactly know how long you just stood there, immobile, until you slowly took a step back.

“So he left… for all of you. Again.”

The corner of your lips tugged as you gave a nod. You didn’t even have the energy to look at them. Finally, you turned and started making your way out the door. You’ve only gone a few steps when you felt a gentle hand reach out for your arm. Blindingly, you turned around to come face to face with Jeno. For the first time since you met him, he looked at you without the unreadable mask he always keeps on whenever you got too close.

For the first time, he actually looked like he cares.

“I told you… You’re only going to get hurt.”

You felt too numb to even react. You simply shook his hand off of you before you left the room in dead silence.

*******

Apparently, five days is the longest length of peace you can have until something blows up in your face again and pile over the things you've already been trying to avoid.

Granted, you cheated on having it by taking a sudden work leave, but for once, you felt liberated over breaking the rules. Since that night of confrontation back at Cypher, you filed for an indefinite absence and have turned off all possible channels you can be contacted on so you can focus on other things. You can't really say you're doing a great job at it though, not when you've been spending the last half hour staring at your screen trying to finish a page in your thesis. Sure, the last five days have been quiet, but as expected, silence doesn't necessarily equate to making your problems magically go away.

You groaned softly now and removed your glasses to pinch the bridge of your nose. Maybe you shouldn't have turned down Mijeong's invitation for you to go party with her tonight, but of course you had to regret your decision too late. Mulling over it a bit, your eyes finally landed on your phone lying face down and looking very much abandoned on your desk. It was half-covered by your study notes now since you haven't touched it for days, but it still took you a good half minute to finally reach out for it. With a slight sigh, you finally turned it on, your eyes squinting a little bit at the glow of its screen.

It didn't even take ten seconds before the ringing sound of notifications assaulted your ears. You winced. Just as expected, you got dozens and dozens of messages and emails, some for work and the others mostly from Ten and Kun. You bit the inside of your cheek now in guilt. You haven't really reached out to them since you disappeared, which, now that you think of it, was a very asshole move. Before all the message alerts came in, you already opened Kun's contact so you can send him a message of apology.

You've barely even typed your first word in when the last of the texts finally registered on your screen. You froze when your gaze locked on the last one. You haven't even gone through the messages before it, but the one sentence alone resting on the foot of the chat window made your heart drop to your stomach. It was just eight words, but they were enough to make your blood run cold.

'You have to come. They are hurting them.'

*******

The sound of your sneakers thundered down the long hallways as you ran. You were heaving, but you didn't stop as you tried to call Kun for the hundredth time since you saw his message. He just sent it today, about an hour and a half ago, but that was still long enough for things to have gone south. You cursed under your breath. You didn't know where you were going, but when the line dropped again, you went to the first place that you knew he could have left a trace. You almost stumbled in front of the entrance of your office, fingers almost slipping on the knob as you hurriedly opened it.

Kun was not there, as you already expected, but a wave of relief went over you as you saw the light of the wall of monitors in the center of the room. He left every single one of them open to give you the clue you needed to trace the boys. A splitting pain was making your side hurt, but you ignored it, your eyes set instead on scanning every single screen in front of you.

You finally found it on the middle row, though the live feedback on the screen momentarily made you hold your breath. It was a view of an unknown room showing a top view of the boys staring off at something on the other side. You can't hear what any of them were saying, but you didn't have to…

Not when the look of horror and anger on their faces told you everything you needed to know.

Your eyes quickly scanned them, and then a second realization finally made you hit the ground running again.

Everyone was there.

Except for Renjun.

*******

It barely took you another minute to find the lab room, but it still felt like forever before you skidded to a halt before its doors. Your palms have gone sweaty by now that you had to try and steady your hand as you tried to scan your access card while fighting to catch your breath. At one point, you felt almost hopeless thinking you are not allowed access to the room, but then a small green light beeped to life before the mechanical doors started hissing as they parted. They have barely opened halfway when you slipped inside, your eyes wild as they went through the room.

The first thing that registered to you was the half glass wall that separated the space into two sections. It was unlike any that you’ve visited within the Institute before, this one looking more like the interrogation rooms one would see on police stations where people can observe from the other side. Your eyes landed on the six pale faces looking at you now with the same expression of urgency, but your attention was soon enough torn from the boys when you heard a muffled scream from beyond the glass wall before you.

It felt like all the blood in your body was drained when you realized what you were looking at.

The other side of the room was brighter than the section where you and the rest of the boys were standing, the harsh fluorescent lights only putting more emphasis on the sparse set-up that was laid out before your eyes. There was an odd-looking machine similar to an encephalogram unit on the side of the room, currently being manned by a gaunt looking woman in a blue lab coat. It has the same sigil that you have on your work uniform, though you knew you’ve never seen the lady before in the months that you’ve worked here. Briefly, you remembered what Kun said a long time ago about Cypher having its own circle of private doctors and researchers—a unit that was entirely separated from the regular research team of each project of the Institute. Back in a control panel before her, wires stuck from the machine down to the middle of the room...

Where Renjun was strapped on a seat, looking barely half-conscious.

“Oh my god.”

“Noona, please help him.”

You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Jisung’s voice. Instead, you quickly jumped to action, running close to the glass wall instead and looking for any slot you can use to pry it open. You knew the only way to reach the other side was through here because you didn’t see any other door before you came in. Your hands ran through the wall, but your palms were only met with the feel of the smooth, icy glass.

“There’s no entrance here. We tried. It must be a secret door on the other side,” Jaemin spoke this time, his voice sounding the most stressed than you’ve ever heard him before. “It’s bulletproof glass, too.”

His words made you curse under your breath. You turned to them abruptly, and for the first time, you realized some of them were also injured.

“Are you—Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“We were all picked up today and was put on different stress tests. They were—they wanted us to project our full abilities,” Mark answered. The look on your face must have been so severe because he immediately tried to follow-through before you can even utter another word. “We’re fine. But Renjun, he can’t take it. His body resistance is weaker than ours. We have to get him out of there.”

“How long has he been there?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes,” Chenle answered. There was a small cut under his eye that was already starting to swell. Jeno, who was beside him, closed his hands into fists.

“Long enough.”

Your knees felt weak as you turned towards the window again. Just as you did, a flash of bright light went off in the room beyond that made you flinch. It looked like a spark of electricity, and it was soon followed by Renjun’s anguished scream from the other side. His slumped body straightened like a rod from the shock before he curled in again on himself. The wires taped on his temples moved as his head hung low after the shock.

They’re… electrocuting him.

“Hey! Stop! Open the door! I’m his doctor! You’re hurting him!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs as your fists started banging on the glass in front of you. The lady turned to look at you briefly, her beady eyes seemingly checking for your identity. When she seemed to have confirmed that you weren’t part of whatever division she came from, she simply turned back to the machine again and pressed a button there.

This time, Renjun barely moved. He flinched, but other than his neck rolling back to rest against the chair, he seemed to have lost consciousness already. A small trail of blood trickled from his nose. Your arms stopped banging against the partition, your expression shell-shocked as you stared at him.

No…

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Whatever shock has frozen you in place snapped as you heard a low voice from the other side of the room. In the chaos that happened earlier, you barely even noticed Haechan who had said nothing since you came into the room, until now. One look at him sent a whole different kind of chill to spread over your body. He was so still, but the way he was standing told you that he was on the verge of snapping. Gone was the usual carefree air that he always seemed to carry before. Instead, he was almost expressionless… except for the rage burning in his eyes now staring at the woman.

“Haechan…” your voice sounded shaky when you called out to him. You took a furtive step towards him, but it didn’t seem like he heard you at all.

“...Touch him again and I’m going to rip her head off.”

You looked around in fear at the lady at the other side of the room. She was typing a set of commands on the small keyboard next to her machine, and you saw a small rounded countdown window show up on the monitor before her. She was powering it up. Gearing up for another round of shocks.

“Haechan, control yourself,” Mark’s voice made you turn back to the group. He is also looking at Haechan now, one of his palms held up in a placating manner. He was taking careful steps towards the boy and it took you a few seconds to realize why. The room was dim that you didn’t see it at first, but then you squinted and you noticed the way the air seemed to ripple around the other. It shifted and broke apart, similar to how broken pixels would look like. You stopped.

It wasn’t his illusions.

He was shifting the very dimension he was standing on instead.

“Haechan, don’t—!”

A soft buzzing sound started to come from the other side of the room. You didn’t have the heart to look at it, your wide eyes set on the boy before you, but it started picking up until it almost drowned the room with noise. You turned just in time to see the woman lift her hand, her finger moving towards the same button she had been pressing again and again. Lips parting, you started running towards Haechan, barely even noticing the huge black gaping void that burst behind him, its jaws open like a hungry monster. Mark shouted from somewhere you couldn’t really see and you thought you felt someone tried to pull you back as fingers grazed your arm. You slipped past them though, your hand closing around Haechan’s sleeve before they could even get a hold of you.

It happened all at once. The moment you touched him, there was a deafening shrill that pressed against your ears painfully as you seemed to have been lifted off the ground. It only lasted for seconds, but the next time you opened your eyes again, you were in an entirely different place.

You stumbled back a little and fell to the ground on your knees as your eyes tried to focus on what you were seeing. It was similar to the dark void that you were plunged in back at the arena, except this time, everything seemed to have been dissolved in darkness. No walls, no ground to stand on, even Mark and the others were gone, all except for you, Haechan, and an unconscious Renjun lying on the ground. A little ways from him, looking just as disoriented was the lady in the blue lab coat.

"Renjun!" You scrambled to your feet and ran towards the boy the second you were finally able to recover. Kneeling, you tried to cradle his head gently on your lap as you felt for a pulse. He has it, albeit weak, and you gently tilted his head back to keep his airways open.

"Where are we? What did you do?"

For the first time ever, you heard the scratchy voice of the woman who was pulled into this nether dimension with you. She sounded scared, and for good reason, as you saw Haechan step slowly towards her in your peripheral vision. Once again, a chill struck deep in your gut when you focused on his face. A small smile has pulled the corners of his lips again, but it wasn't anything like the playful ones he used to have before. Instead, he sized her up slowly, calculatingly, like a predator stalking his prey.

"Make a guess. You don't seem so mean now that your stupid machine is gone, huh?" He sneered. The woman tried to scuttle away backwards in her hands and feet, pale as a ghost.

"We asked you so many times to stop. Nicely too, but you didn't listen. Look what you've done to him, you stupid crone."

"Haechan… stop… We can go. Renjun is breathing," you tried to stay lowly, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched the boy continue to advance. He didn't even look at you, his lips pulling up instead in anger.

"Barely breathing. These stupid humans think they have control over us, when they’re not even worth dirt," he whispered, and you swear you haven't felt real fear until this moment. Everything about him screamed danger, a time bomb just in the fringes of blowing up everything in his way. Around him, the void started taking shapes, moving like bodiless shadows. They thrummed from barely held back energy, waiting for the command of their sorcerer.

"Keep away from me! You monster!"

The high-pitched scream of the woman only made Haechan give a breathy laugh. The temperature in the room had dropped so much that his breath even turned to vapor as he snickered. You unconsciously held on to Renjun, half of your body crouched over him as you watched the scene, terrified. You couldn't look away, not even with every fiber in your body telling you to run.

"Monster, hmm? I like the sound of that. Pretty big words to say so yourself after what you've done, but I'll take it," he shrugged as he finally stopped before her. The look he gave her was so withering that it actually made the woman give a soft whimper of fear. He smiled.

"Wanna guess what monsters do…?"

"They eat up weak people like you."

A shout of surprise was torn from you as a loud blasting noise split the air. The ground opened up, void-like branches springing from out of it to wrap around the woman's shaking form. They circled her arms, legs, and neck like vines before she was lifted into the air. She gave an ear-splitting scream before her own voice was choked off as the grip around her neck tightened.

"Haechan! Stop!"

The boy didn't even look your way, but a coughing, hacking noise came from the lady high up in the air as she was allowed to briefly breathe again. Haechan leaned his head a little bit to the side, as if deep in thought.

"Oh? Are you already giving up? Come on, you can't lose consciousness now. It wouldn't be half as fun if you can't feel what I'm about to do to you."

"No, no. You’re going to kill her—"

“That's the plan.”

"Not… real.”

Another scream sliced the air as the ropes of shadows that hoisted the lady up suddenly disappeared in thin air. She plunged back into the ground, her voice cut off at the sound of something cracking. The next few seconds that followed were silent, with you looking on with fear at the immobile form in front of you. Haechan remained still on his spot too, waiting for any sign of movement. His eyes had gone cold, emotionless.

Lost.

"Stand up. You can take more than that. I need to see what I can break next. Should I take your arms? Or maybe I can gauge your eyes out."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"This is not real. Illusions… you're just playing with my head."

For a moment, it seemed like time stopped as the weak gasping words of the woman hung in the air. Haechan simply stared at her, an unreadable expression in his face. The temperature around you shifted again, this time the cold completely taken over by heat. The air had gotten so thick, you could barely breathe.

And then he broke the silence again.

By throwing his head back and laughing.

"Ah, gosh. You really still think that I can only do illusions? I overestimated you ma'm. You're just not stupid. You're straight out dumb."

Your lips parted as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. Haechan had started slowly moving again, this time with deadly intent in his gait. Things were starting to click in your head, as pinpricks started to climb your spine.

"Why do you think you're no longer behind the protection of that glass wall in your room, hmm?” he asked as light danced in his eyes. “It's because you're not even in that plane anymore… but in my world."

"Yes, mine. That means in here, I have my own rules. I can do anything. Which, again, only means one thing… Do you wanna guess what that is?"

Haechan smiled, and it was the most terrifyingly haunting thing you've seen. The realization hit you the same time his lips quirked into a smirk. He was never just a mage of illusions. He could shape dimensions, rip them apart and create new ones.

He... is chaos himself.

"I can break you. No matter how many times I want to."

You moved before you even realized what you were doing. Scrambling from your spot where you were covering Renjun, you ran towards the woman just as the ropes of shadows sprang from nowhere again. This time though, they were shaped like spears, their ends pointed as they aimed for flesh. You managed to pull the lady by the arm to throw her to the other side of the room, but your limbs tangled together and made you trip. The last thing you could remember was a searing pain at your shoulder blade and the spears of darkness suddenly moving around to soften your fall as you toppled back.

And then everything went black.

*******

It felt like you were swimming back to the surface. Everything was so quiet and still that for a minute, you wished you could stay under the waves forever. You were floating idly in silence, body feeling weightless as your consciousness stayed in the middle of dreams and reality.

It didn't last long though. Just as you were about to drift into deep sleep again, a dull tint of orange started blooming behind your lids. The color started growing stronger and stronger until it finally made you frown and roll away. You wanted nothing more than for it to go but it persisted, like a small fire burning beyond your closed eyes.

"I see you're still very responsive. Good girl."

The honey voice that sounded somewhere from your side made you open your eyes in a jolt. All of a sudden, the warm cocoon of sleep was torn away from you as you were finally pulled to the surface. You were still disoriented when you caught what looked like an IV line by your side but you managed to swivel your head towards the source of the voice. You locked eyes with its owner...

And found yourself freezing again.

Dr. Lee smiled at you, her perfect red lips tipped by the corners. They didn't quite match her stare, which was now trained at you with a mixture of barely concealed amusement and something much more… sinister.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

You couldn't quite wrap your head around what's happening at first. You could see and hear her… but none of the signals she was giving were still making sense in your head. You were trying… but before you could do anything, a throbbing pain by your right shoulder made you gasp. You almost sat up in shock at the feeling, but you were gently eased back into what you can assume is your hospital bed by her hands on your chest. You groaned.

"What happened?"

"There is a hole in your shoulder is the quickest way to explain it. I wouldn't recommend for you to move too much anytime soon."

That was all it took for you to go still again. As if a switch has been turned on, the last memories you had came flooding back to you in waves. You immediately turned your head towards the woman beside you who was now looking at you with an unreadable expression.

"Haechan and Renjun—"

"01 and 02 are being kept in a different facility. If you're wondering how they are, they're still alive. 02 sustained more… let's say, internal damage, but he is alive. 01 is unscathed, though he seems to need more treatment for mental distress after he hurt his favorite doctor."

The lilt in her voice made your stomach turn. The way he talked about the boys confirmed your suspicions as you read between the lines of her words and their undertones. You looked on to her, speechless at first. You felt hot and cold at the same time. Angry, but also terrified.

"You… were the one who ordered to give them the tests," you whispered. Her smile returned slowly as if she was relishing each word you said.

"I did, indeed. I had to make a couple of adjustments, but I believe I finally got to the sweet spot now… all thanks to you, honey."

You frowned in confusion. She crossed her legs in front of her and rested her manicured nails on her knee.

"You see, we have tried so many approaches just to tease those abilities out of those kids. At first there was the recommendation to use positive reinforcement on them so we could study their potential, but it became obvious after some time that it’s impossible to get their full trust. Sure, several of them did work with us but seriously… did they really think we believe that is all they can do?"

You stared at her in silent horror as you slowly processed her words. It was a good thing that you were lying down, because your head was already starting to swim. Whether she noticed your internal dilemma or not, you have no idea, because she simply went on with that same idle, satisfied smile on her lips.

"And then… you came and some of them actually started cooperating more. That's when we knew a different approach was needed. Maybe positive bribes aren't what's needed to crack them open, but another kind of motivation instead. After all, what pushes another person at their limit… than human emotions foolishly fixated on others?"

You wanted to retch. The random invite for the competitive drill back at the arena. The display of Renjun's torture in front of all of them. She had it all planned. All of it.

"You're hurting them…" you said in a tone that almost broke. Her smile widened and she leaned forward to run a finger down your cold cheek. The sharp edge of her nail barely grazed your skin, but it was enough to make your skin crawl.

"Well, yes. I needed to. I have to say… patience really isn't my strongest suit but I'm not going to break them entirely since I need them alive after all. Until they really show us what they can do though, we'll just have to do the same thing over and over again. Don't worry, their memories of the stress tests get erased when the mental trauma gets too much. We have the High Priestess to take care of that for us. We can't afford broken boys now, do we?"

Your breath hitched. Renjun can tap memories… which also means he can erase them too. Was that the reason why he was always sick? Because Cypher was using his Arcana on the others? Ten said that when the other boys started needing medical help, they couldn't even remember what happened to them. Their memories... were they being manipulated against their wills?

"I decided to keep the Magician's memories of what he did to you though, just in case you want to know," your blood ran cold as you realized what she was talking about. "I think I like him better when he is a little… deranged. I've always thought that boy is special. Who would have even thought he was so so much more," she trained her brown eyes on you and you saw the way they sparkled with glee. "Chaos Magic. Disrupting dimensions… maybe even manipulating the very fabric of existence itself. With the right push, he can be more than what he can do right now."

"What do you want from them…" you managed to voice out despite the thundering sound of your heartbeat now pressing against your ears. At this point, you knew it was impossible to have a harmless reason behind the lengths she was pulling. Dr. Lee stopped as if she was mulling over your question.

"Have you ever wondered how it feels like to have the power to shape the world whichever way you wanted to? Not in the way money and influence can, no. But something greater than that."

Slowly, your eyes widened as you realized what she was trying to say. Your hands started feeling numb, the feeling starting to climb to your arms like frostbite.

"Jisung can power a whole country if he wanted to. Maybe even a nuclear project all on his own. Jaemin and Renjun are perfect for Intelligence use—no man can ever hide anything, nor say no to them. Chenle… Chenle can keep armies from collapsing, if he uses his ability to transform broken bodies back into their old selves. Haechan can turn everything to his favor if he wanted and Mark can be the perfect killing machine. Jeno has yet to show us what he can do, but I doubt it will take long for him to crack now."

You were speechless. You expected the worst, but not to this extent. You almost wanted to throw up seeing the look on her face. There was nothing on it but madness.

"You're going to weaponize them…" you choked out. Your words seemed to have triggered something in her, because she gave you her widest, wildest smile yet. Her hand hovered over your face again and it took you all you had not to flinch as she tucked a loose tendril of your hair behind your ear.

"Come on now, don't make it sound too bad. Maybe you're still too young to understand, but you'll get it soon," she locked gazes with you and your stomach turned at the chaos you could see in her eyes.

"After all, why be a savior if you can play god?"

*******

CHAPTER 10

A/N: Latest chapter is finally in after so long! Thank you so much for everyone who has tuned in to Arcane until now. I know the plot is really complicated so I appreciate all of you! As usual, enjoy! <3

PS. Let's all wish for Jeno and Chenle's speedy recovery from covid. 🥺

Taglist [OPEN]: @negincho, @jhornytrash, @aaasteroidsky, @huangberryyy, @marijmin, @ashkuuuu, @reluctantserpent-101, @huskyhunny, @domojoo, @anaveragefangirl, @lostlovesoul11, @dreamisfelix, @lomlwoo, @coconuttiez8d, @jaehyunenthusiastsworld, @shininginthemoonlight, @bettyschwallocksyee, @w3bqrl, @smolpeyy, @chenlejjang, @kunssouschef, @thesunsfullmoon, @kpopstanforlifeuwu, @chokopocky, @azzygongez, @tito-the-mermaid, @jakeshuneybby, @yutacchin, @baehaechannie, @thefoxsleeps

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Say You’re Sorry

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After a petty argument, Reader and Spencer spend weeks trying to get each other to say they’re sorry first Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, smut (fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking) Word Count: 4.3k

Full Request: “...a smut about Like reader and spencer fight for something stupid, because both of them think are right, And maybe the fbi it has the annual gala of something and reader wears a *SUIT* with just a nice bra under the jacket, and spencer lost his mind.” —Anonymous

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one was so much fun to write! All of these requests have been, of course, but I just loved getting to write Spencer and Reader’s petty tactics and dialogue here 😂❤

***

It was stupid and they both knew it. Everyone in the office knew it, too.

But when two people who were always priding themselves on being right have been dating for years, stupid little arguments like that were bound to happen.

This time, though, Spencer and Y/N seemed to have taken it a little too far. For weeks now they haven't spoken unless it was bickering, and when it wasn't bickering, it was demanding the other person to admit they were sorry.

And now it was just a game.

The first round started when Y/N gave Spencer a cup of coffee as a gesture, a sign of good faith. She hadn't explicitly said sorry, though Spencer was willing to accept it as an apology anyway. The round ended, though, when he took a drink to find it completely bitter, not a grain of sugar to be found. She laughed, the sound somehow even more bitter than the coffee she'd given him, and left him with a prompt, "Gotcha."

Round two was a bit more evil, Spencer retaliating by changing all the settings in her car so that when she got in, everything would be the exact opposite of how she preferred it. She was always particular about how she had the air, the seats, the mirrors, and everything else set up in her car, and the day she got in it after work almost had her in tears of anger. First of all, her seat was set all the way back, which she found strange, but then after adjusting it she turned the car on, and the radio blasted intense techno music, which she always found annoying. She turned it all the way down after almost having a heart attack, suddenly very angry and confused, only to then notice that all the mirrors were adjusted as well.

But the tip of the iceberg was when she looked at the speedometer and noticed she was almost entirely out of gas. It certainly wouldn't be enough to get her home.

"What the actual fuck?" she yelled, only to jump again when Spencer knocked on her window.

"Looks like you're gonna have to take the train home with me."

It really was her only option, and she hated it. And he was so hopeful that it would get to her admit that she was sorry, that when they got to his apartment he would be able to convince her to come to bed with him and sleep it all off.

Turns out, he was sorely mistaken. She didn't talk to him the whole way there, and when they did manage to make it up to his apartment, Y/N locked him out of his bedroom and slept in his bed alone. No matter how many times he tried to convince her to let him in, she yelled back, "Say you're sorry, and we'll see if you deserve to sleep with me!"

But he wasn't going to give up that easily. So he gave up trying to reason with her, and stayed on the couch.

When he woke up, he was drenched in freezing cold water, cursing as Y/N stood over him with a smirk. "Mess with my car again, and it'll be something worse, Reid."

She never used his last name. She was doing it to taunt him, and it only made him angrier.

She left that morning, calling Emily for a ride and hoping she'd taught Spencer a lesson.

Unfortunately, no lessons had been learned. A few days later, he 'accidentally' bumped into her, spilling coffee all over her white blouse, and said 'oops,' in the least apologetic way ever.

Y/N scowled as she dabbed up the liquid, not even paying attention to him as she ranted about how pissed off she was and how childish her boyfriend was being.

"If you'd just man up and say you're sorry already, maybe I won't have to be such a bitch, but you're really getting on my fucking nerves..."

He was suspiciously quiet. So she looked up to catch him staring at her, a look in his eyes that she'd seen many a time. In fact, it had to be one of her favorite looks.

He was staring directly at her chest, where she'd unbuttoned a few buttons to get at more of the coffee that splashed on her shirt.

It was only a few seconds, and Spencer seemed to snap out of it rather quickly, giving her a wink before walking away completely.

She glared at him as he disappeared into another room, but in the back of her mind, a plan was already forming.

***

The Bureau was hosting a mandatory gala for a few agents who were retiring, and with the event coming up, Y/N knew it was the perfect opportunity to get Spencer's attention and maybe, just maybe, get him to finally apologize.

But that was all unbeknownst to him.

He knew she was going to show up on her own, because neither of them had stepped up to the plate to apologize, and truth be told, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. It had been about a week since he'd spilled his coffee all over her, and he couldn't stop thinking about her. Not that he never thought about her at all—she was his girlfriend, of course he thought about her—but after going weeks without getting to kiss her, touch her, or even just be around her when they weren't playing stupid, petty games with each other, Spencer was starting to think maybe they should just talk it out.

So that's what he decided. The gala would be a perfect opportunity to make a grand romantic gesture and admit that he missed her, that they were both being childish and he wanted to work it out.

All of that completely went out the window, though, the second she walked through the door.

The drink in his hand almost dropped to the floor. The only thing that even kept him standing upright was Derek's hold on him when he stumbled. And as if he didn't already know he was in trouble, Spencer heard his friend whistle lowly beside him.

"Kid, I think you better apologize, or I have a feeling you're gonna regret it..."

"No kidding," was all he responded with, his eyes still glued to his girlfriend from across the room.

She was wearing a pair of maroon suit pants and a matching jacket that held together at the middle by one button, exposing a lacy black bra underneath. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant updo, exposing more of her neck and chest as small pieces of hair framed the sides of her face. From far away he noticed her wearing some long silver earrings and a matching necklace that landed right above where curve of her breasts met her neck. She walked—no, glided—across the floor with heels that accented her every step with power.

She caught his eye, and though she was the most stunning, captivating woman he'd ever seen, the pure smugness that lit up her pretty features as she walked towards him made Spencer want to win. No romantic gestures, no giving in and talking it out... He wanted to see her beg for forgiveness.

It was a pretty hard task, though, considering the second she got closer and he searched her eyes, he almost crumbled beneath the sheer power they exuded. They gleamed at him as if to say, "You lose."

Everything was made even worse when she smiled at him like nothing was wrong, like they hadn't been playing childish pranks on each other all week. She leaned in and held onto his arms, giving him a sweet kiss on the jawline.

"Hi, babe," she chirped happily, and before she pulled away, she added into his ear with a whisper, "By the end of the night you're gonna be real sorry for last week..." It was low and seductive and pure evil. Spencer would have stumbled again had she not been holding onto his arm.

He wanted to think that Y/N surely wouldn't resort to using her seduction to get him to apologize, but that would be a flat-out lie. She knew exactly what she was doing.

But it wasn't going to work. He wouldn't let it. He couldn't let it.

He cleared his throat and led Y/N to the table they were staying at, trying his hardest to ignore the low burn that settled in his stomach.

But once again, that proved incredibly hard when she was sitting next to him all night, talking confidently with other agents and occasionally slipping her hand along his inner thigh to tease him. When no one was looking, she'd move it higher, lightly drawing circles along the inseam of his pants. And when he gripped her wrist under the table, leaning in to say lowly in her ear, "You better quit," she responded with a turn of the head and a kiss on the cheek, whispering right back, "Not until you say you're sorry."

She pulled back and they smiled at each other sweetly, right before she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

What she wasn't counting on was him following after her, catching her arm and pulling her into an empty storage closet before anyone could see. It all caught her completely by surprise, but even as the light switched on and she saw Spencer standing in front of her, a look of pure frustrated grief flashing across his features, she settled into another smug smile.

"Aw, what's wrong, babe?"

His eyes raked her up and down, and it was obvious how hungry he was for her. His hands reached out tentatively to touch her, and she let him. They settled on slipping under her suit jacket and practically burning handprints into the bare skin of her stomach.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, running his hands farther up her stomach and just below the bra. He could see his fingers peeking up through the jacket, and it made him absolutely feral. "You're a fucking tease, that's what's wrong."

Y/N cooed like she would at a crying baby. "Aw, and who's fault is that, hmm?"

"I'm not gonna say it." His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and still she was unwavering.

"I'm not gonna say it either."

"Well... Maybe I'll just have to fuck it out of you, then."

She would have been lying if she said she hadn't lost a little self control upon hearing those words come from his mouth. Which is why she challenged him yet again, silently hoping that he'd make true on his promise.

"I'd like to see you try..."

They stared at each other then, and for a moment Y/N thought he would actually do it. Her body shivered with excitement, especially when he pushed her into the door and ran his hands up to cup her breasts. He leaned in close and pressed gentle kisses to the side of her neck and down her collarbone, and eventually, he found his way back to her neck.

Right when his hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, he suddenly removed them altogether, and placed them on either side of her head, trapping her between his body and the door.

And with five simple words hummed lowly into her ear, he'd managed to win this round.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Spencer opened the door and pushed past her, leaving her behind to catch her breath.

***

The night was nearly over, and she still hadn't managed to break him. And after the stunt he pulled in the storage closet, she was getting just as frustrated as he was. Since then, he'd practically dangled himself in front of her all night, making a point to play with his hands (which he knew she went crazy for), doing the same with his mouth (which she also had praised multiple times over), and occasionally resting his hand on her lower back, or on the inside of her thigh under the table.

And now, he had her cornered near the back of the room after she'd excused herself to collect her bearings.

But she wasn't having it.

Before he could say or do anything, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him to her, sneering in his face. "Back off, baby, or I swear to God..."

She wasn't really sure what she was going to say, because no words could properly accentuate her frustration. All she could do was give vague threats and hope Spencer stepped up to the plate.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't.

"What? What are you gonna do?" he laughed, looking at her hungrily.

At this point they were just needlessly teasing themselves, and they both knew it. But the game had gone on for so long that one of them had to break eventually, right?

She couldn't answer him... There was absolutely nothing in her brain except for images of them, screwing each other to the ends of the earth. So, she looked back at him, silently hoping that he would just forget about the apologies and do something about the tension that had been building up for weeks now.

And truthfully, she thought he would have. He looked like he was ready to say fuck it and kiss her right there. He leaned in, and she gripped his tie even tighter.

But then someone cleared their throat beside them.

"Alright, you two." It was Rossi. "Get out of here, go kiss and make up. That's an order."

"But you're not our boss," Y/N pointed out, apparently still on the high of arguing.

"Tonight I am. Go on, get."

She turned away from them and left without another word.

***

One silent car ride later, the two of them walked up to Y/N's apartment. It wasn't until Spencer had closed the door behind him that either of them said something.

In fact, they both said something at the same time.

"Take your clothes off."

"Leave the suit on."

And then, silence.

For one second. Then two. Then three.

And then the only sound to be heard was Y/N's heels as she glided to Spencer in three large steps and crushed her mouth to his. The second it happened, it was like a rubber band snapped, all this pent up tension finally releasing and shooting across the air until it landed somewhere.

In this case, it landed on the kitchen table. She pushed off his jacket the second her butt landed on the cool wooden surface, and her mouth pulled away from his with a harsh smack. "I thought I told you to take off your clothes."

"So fucking impatient," he breathed, grabbing her face with his hands and kissing her again.

A second later, she pulled back and gripped his tie. "Then don't take so fucking long," she said lowly, and then pulled him forward by the tie, connecting their mouths once more.

He grunted in her mouth, releasing her face and working at the buttons of his shirt while she tried her hardest to get the tie. The second everything was loosened, she slid her hands under his shirt and pulled his body into hers by the waist, digging her nails into his skin.

"Lift your hips, baby," he breathed against her mouth, his hands already at the button. "Let me get these off."

"I thought you wanted me to keep the suit on?" she laughed.

"Well, I can't fuck you with your pants on, Y/N."

She lifted her hips then, using her hands on the table as leverage while he shimmied them off over her heels. "I know, genius, I was just fucking with you."

"Well, stop it," he got out with an exasperated sigh.

And before she could retort, his fingers were pushing her panties aside and slipping through the opening of her pussy, causing her words to get caught in her throat.

She choked on a moan and he laughed. "Yeah, I thought that'd shut you up."

"Fuck you," she gasped.

"I'd rather fuck you instead."

And with that final sentence, he started finger-fucking her, leaning forward and applying kisses and bites to her neck. Her hands reached out to grip his shoulders, pushing the rest of his shirt off and then clinging to him like a cat clinging to a tree.

"Who knew all this fighting would make you so wet for me," he said, punctuating his words with a nip to her neck. As if to prove his point, he worked his fingers in and out of her quicker and deeper, the both of them taking in and relishing the sounds it made. Meanwhile she rocked her hips against his hand and tried her hardest not to make much sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much he was affecting her.

Though, it seemed he caught on to her scheme.

"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue? I know you wanna let it out, so why don't you?"

"Not... until you say you're sorry," she managed to respond clearly, leaning back to look him in the eye.

The look he gave her radiated cockiness as his fingers worked even faster, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back any noises.

"Aw, not even one little moan for me, pretty girl? I know you've got one in you..."

"N—no," she pressed, obviously trying not to react at all. But it was getting harder when every second Spencer was curling his fingers inside her now, hitting that sweet spot and bringing her closer to the edge.

"Yes," he reiterated, bringing his other hand to her mouth and pushing her lips apart to press his thumb down onto her tongue, keeping her jaw open and forcing out all the sounds she'd tried so hard to hold in.

There was no getting out of it, but... right now she didn't care. Because she loved when he took control like this, seeing his face scrunch up with determination to get what he wanted, the raw, primal look in his eye that boiled her insides and broke her down every time...

Inevitably, she moaned out. Loudly. And when she was met with a smug, "Atta girl," she closed her mouth around his thumb and sucked on it, humming as her pussy clenched around his fingers. "That's a good fucking girl..."

As he worked her through her orgasm, the high subsiding, she thought, Alright... You win this round...

And then, as he pulled away from her and brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, Y/N slowly grew a smirk.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.

She took out her earrings, jumped off the table, and unbuttoned the suit jacket, letting it hang open as she dragged him with her to the bedroom in nothing but her bra, panties, jacket, and heels. "I'm gonna get you for that."

His heart raced as she all but threw him in the direction of the bed. He sat down and leaned back, breathless as she kicked the door shut with her foot and settled her hands on her bare hips. From the low angle he had, she very much radiated dominance and power, and God, if she wasn't the most stunning specimen he'd ever laid his eyes on...

He wanted in that moment so badly to submit to her, to give her everything she wanted, but... If he didn't, what would she do?

She took a few slow steps, and with every one Spencer sunk back, until he was laying down and she was standing at the edge of the bed, using her knee to push his legs apart.

"Sit up," she demanded softly, and he almost obliged. But he wanted to see what she'd do if he refused. So when he remained on his back, she stretched her arm out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up and then gripping his chin in her other hand to make him look up at her.

In the dim light of the bedroom, he studied her, every curve and peak of her face and the way the shadows accented her prettiest features, the faint glimmer of the eyeshadow she was wearing, the way her tongue danced behind her lips as she figured out what to say next...

Likewise, she took him in completely, the way his eyes softened with each passing second as they roamed her face, and how his just settled in her hand, like he was completely submitting to and amazed by her. And truth be told, the feeling was mutual. Just looking into his eyes alone, Y/N could tell how much he loved her, and it made her heart swell.

Consequently, the electric buzz that had been between them all night and growing stronger for weeks was a dull hum, something more warm and... remorseful.

"I love you," Y/N breathed, loosening the grip on Spencer's chin. She let her fingers slide down his neck and over to his shoulder, where she gave him a light, loving squeeze. "And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered back, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek. "And I love you."

She sat down on one of his legs, bringing them closer together and to eye-level. And with a smile, she said, "Truce?"

"Truce."

"Good. Now, fuck me?"

"Always."

Her body melted into his when he pulled her face to him and kissed her. His lips moved slowly against hers, yet with a burning passion and need that made it hard for her to breathe. It wasn't long before she starting rocking against him, butterflies swarming in her stomach when he noticed and used one of his hands to run up her thigh. Meanwhile their kisses grew stronger, deeper, and the little sighs and moans they produced together provided the cherry on top.

Y/N slid off of him, then reached down to take his pants off, head spinning and heart soaring. And Spencer felt the same, tugging at the hem of her panties.

She laughed, breaking away once his pants were off. "How do you want me, baby?"

"Just like this," he responded, not needing any time to think about it. "Ride me, do whatever you want to me. I just want you."

With another little laugh, she pushed him back lightly and took off her underweat and heels, then climbed over him to straddle his hips. "Careful what you wish for."

When she reached back her arms to remove the jacket, Spencer stopped her, gripping her thighs and saying in a low voice, "Don't you dare take that off."

She sounded satisfied. Triumphant. "I knew you'd like it."

And before he had a chance to elaborate on just how much he liked it, she shifted her hips and ground down on his bare, hard dick. All words escaped him at the feeling, and she seemed to know it, because she smiled down at him victoriously.

She leaned down and braced her hands on his chest as she continued to rock back and forth, slicking him up with her arousal. Soon after, she snuck one of her hands down to help herself onto him, and she sank down slowly, ever so slowly...

Spencer sighed out, long and drawn out, and the sound was like music to Y/N's ears. She started off slowly, but it wasn't long before she sat up and set a steady pace riding him. And once he found his bearings, getting used to the feeling of her around him after almost a whole month of missing it completely, his eyes opened and took her in once more, the sight before him almost shattering him to pieces.

As his hands flew out to grip her waist, Y/N sighed, reaching down and placing her hands on his stomach. "Fuck, I missed this, baby... Missed you..." Then she slid forward and settled her hands at his collarbone, slowing her hips and making sure to speak just as slowly. "Missed the feeling of your cock deep inside me..."

He lost it then. His grip tightened on her waist and he shifted his hips, repeatedly thrusting up into her with a force that elicited a deep moan from Y/N's throat. She gasped out as he continued this pace, the tension inside of her starting to stretch thin.

"Fuck, baby, please! Oh, right there!" she couldn't help but yell out. She sat up just a little so he had a better angle, and her hands gently wrapped around his throat, to which he rolled his eyes back and groaned out a soft, "Fuck, yes."

They were moving together now, meeting each others' hips with an urgency that could only be present through weeks of built up tension and depravation. It was like a thunderstorm, intense and filled to the brim with flashes of lightning that danced behind both of their eyes as they reached the pinnacle.

Their bodies slowed down naturally, and Y/N's hands were now combing through his hair as she slumped down over him and felt his release as it started to drip down her thigh, and Spencer basked in the feeling of her envelopment, her body weight over the top of him like a warm blanket. They both felt little aftershocks of pleasure as they slowed their breathing and just laid there, hands gently rubbing each others' skin and mouths exhaling soft whispers of 'I love you,' and 'I missed you.'

And then they fully came to their senses, the storm having rolled through completely and leaving them in a calm breeze. It was peaceful. Rehabilitating.

Y/N kissed Spencer's neck and lifted her head to look him in the eyes. "Babe, you know I love you, but I'm not sleeping in this thing tonight."

He laughed, tucking some of the hair behind her ear that had fallen from the updo and then running his thumb along her bottom lip. "That's fair. You should... wear suits more often, though. They're a good look for you."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "Duly noted."

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daisies-and-buttercups · 3 years

Text

“Love and War / Chapter II″ - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: Waking up to an empty bed and the words that Luca left for you, you soon realise that everything is going to go down today, and you’ll soon have to pick a side.

A/N: I swear that this post took me at least three tries, tumblr kept deleting and/or messing up the formatting so I’m really hoping that this is worth it lol 💕

Words: 2.7k

Chapter I Chapter III

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next morning you shifted in bed, stretching your arms in search of your lover’s body, but all you felt was the crumpling sheets, still warm from where his body was not too long ago. You groaned, sitting up and scanning the room, eyebrows scrunched into a tired look. If you had to guess what had happened the night before just by looking at your room you wouldn’t have had any clues. Your clothes were neatly folded by the chair and there was no other evidence that anything had indeed happened. No clothes abandoned on the floor, no man lying next to you.

You walked down the stairs almost second guessing yourself, thinking over the night's events while you prepared a cup of coffee that you so desperately craved. Taking a big sip your eyes landed on the small table by the door, only usually adorned by a small plate for your keys and some letters that you hadn’t gotten around to opening yet, now decorated by a beautiful bouquet. You never had flowers around, the item useless and expensive, not something that you could afford with your paycheque, but just with their presence they lit the room up, their delicate perfume filling your lungs. You smiled and walked up to them, lifting the small card up to read it. A simple phrase full of adoration and love, with a few words in Italian, made you blush at the love you felt, but the final sentence made your heart drop.

If today is kind with my soul, I shall meet you in your dreams tonight, mio amore.

His handwriting was smooth and elegant with each word, but the last sentence was slightly messy, revealing his feelings maybe more than he was used to. His fear. He didn’t think he’d make it back.

So today was the day.

You scurried over to the phone, picking it up and calling the Shelbys, hoping that someone, anyone, would answer, but no one did. There was no point in leaving the house, you wouldn’t know where to find them and you had no way of knowing where Luca was either. There were many places where this showdown could happen, and even if you found it, what were you going to do? You couldn’t just waltz in hoping not to get shot. Still, the mix of emotions in your chest made you dizzy. Why didn’t he say anything? You dreaded the images that flashed before your eyes, first that of Tommy’s lifeless body, still clutching his gun, then that of Luca, tumbling as a bullet hit him square in the chest. Tears fell as you pictured those scenarios, but knew that that was all they were. They weren’t real. But even knowing that, you couldn’t stop pacing around the room, counting the minutes and going over the events of the past few weeks. You didn’t know how to feel about this whole ordeal. You never forgot how Tommy and his family welcomed you when you had been left with nothing, giving you a job, food, inviting you over for drinks and celebrations, but as much as you dreamed of it, you’d never be part of them. You fit in, but not fully. You weren’t part of their circle, but you were part of their “clean” life. Tommy made sure to to leave you out of the dirty deeds, even if you gathered what happened behind closed doors, and by doing so he shut you out of the only part of their life that would make you fully fit in with them. Then Luca arrived, and the calls, on the phone that Thomas brought just for you, since you couldn’t afford one in any other way, started becoming less frequent, with less news. No more talking about the business, no more working by their side, no more gossiping with Ada or Polly on Saturday evenings. You still got your salary, somehow left by your door with nothing else attached to it, not even a note, but that didn’t change the stark difference in your routine. You barely felt like family, or whatever you had ended up being, anymore. You felt even more left out now. So when Luca came around and actually listened to you, and talked to you, and shared his interests while asking about yours, you felt appreciated, loved. You had found somewhere where you fitted. And now here you stood, weary of whose death you’d have to cry at the end of the day.

It took hours for the phone to ring with news, which made you jump into alertness, rushing over to answer. “Where is he?” You stayed quiet for a moment, fully expecting to hear Polly’s or Ada’s voice, not Tommy’s. He was alive, and clearly Polly had told him about your meeting with the Italian. “Where is-” “Where is he?” he raised his voice in unison to the loud sound you heard not far from him, probably his fist banging against the table. So they still were both alive. You let a breath out that you were unaware you had been holding, gripping your clothes tightly, adrenaline running in your veins from the news. He didn’t usually raise his voice, so his anger was evident, yet you weren’t sure if it was directed at you or at Luca. He clearly had gotten away, and the thought of that was enough to lift that weight off your chest. “I don’t know, Thomas.” “You knew last night, though, didn’t you? When he was in your bed? Bet it felt good, eh, fucking the enemy?” You didn’t answer, your face blushing in shame and anger. He had no right to spy into your personal life. You knew that in his books you were on the wrong side of the war they were fighting, but his words were harsh, cutting through you without any of the warmth they once held. “Don’t defend a fucking wop. Tell me.” “I don’t know where he is. But this has to end, Thomas, this war you’re-” “Why don’t you tell that to your friend?” He pronounced the last word with sarcasm and hatred, but what hurt him was the betrayal he felt when you made it clear that you cared about him. “I already did. I told him I support neither of your ways. Just stop, someone’s gonna get hurt.“ “And it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfire.” he spat out, the silence ringing in your ears as if his threat were a slap. “Goodnight, Thomas.” You replied, slamming the phone down, not even sure if he was still there to hear you but not willing to argue anymore. You didn’t stop walking around the halls, hoping that someone else would tell you more about what actually went down, still in the dark, but no one did.

That night you laid in bed, thinking over everything that had happened, or at least what you knew. The fairytale routine you had fallen in with Luca, the fancy restaurants, chivalrous words and tender kisses were taken away from you so soon after they started, leaving you desperate for what you had started growing so used to. Had it not been for the vendetta, he’d probably be here next to you right now, drawing circles on your shoulders with his fingertips, kissing you softly. But he wasn’t here, and all you knew was that he must’ve been alive somehow, since Tommy had no idea as to where he could’ve been. Standing up you took a few steps towards the small balcony, desperate for some fresh air. There was barely enough space to stand on it so you leaned on the window frame, spotting someone moving away just as you glanced down towards the back street. Had you been in a less emotional state you’d have never chased after them, but right now all you wanted were answers. You turned the corner, losing your balance as you slammed into someone, but their hands held you up, pulling you against them. “You shouldn’t have come out here, principessa. You never know who might linger in the dark.” With your mouth agape you stood still for a moment, realising who was standing in front of you and finally wrapping your arms around him, colliding with his chest once more. He let out a low chuckle, melting into your embrace and holding you, feeling your heartbeat calm him down, a natural remedy that only you could provide. Your tears fell freely, wetting his coat while you shivered against him. “Well, lucky me then.” you joked, breathing in his scent, the notes of sandalwood surrounding you. “What happened?” “Nothing. The police got in the way.” he shrugged lightly, his hands still around your waist, pulling you against him. “Thomas was looking for you. He called me.” he nodded, looking around the street for any signs of someone spying on them, but no one was around at this time, but he didn’t care either way. “I’m leaving for Camden Town. I won’t be back for a few days, so you won’t see me for a bit.” “And what are you going to do in Camden Town?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. He wouldn’t stop, and there was only one man in London that had a strong connection to Tommy, and not always a good one. You had never met Alfie Solomons, but you knew enough about him to know where this was going. “Not important. I came to get a goodbye kiss.” his eyes crinkled as he smiled, lifting your chin with his fingers and finding his mouth, kissing you with an initial softness, growing into a hunger that he couldn’t afford right now. He groaned, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead to yours. “What are you planning, Luca?” “Goodnight, dear.” “It’s not gonna end well.” “Goodnight, dear.” He repeated, kissing your forehead and lingering for a moment more, before urging you to walk back home, waiting until you were out of sight to slip away, walking towards the car that would take him to London.

You spent days waiting for something, but there was nothing. No calls, no letters, no news. You picked a few books off your bookshelf, books you had never had the time to read, and scanned the pages, not managing to focus on more than a few pages. It was that dark feeling in your chest that you couldn’t ignore, and the lack of news only made it worse, feeding your mind with the most horrible scenarios. It felt like a blessing, if only for a short moment, when a call arrived shortly after dinner. You were resting your head on the sofa, singing along to some old songs while you stared at your hands, the concept of time slowly slipping away, when you received the news, making you sit up in disbelief. Polly had been brief, delivering the news and nothing more, leaving you clutching your telephone and staring into thin air for what felt like hours. She hadn’t said anything more, leaving you with the feelings that surrounded you. Sadness, rage, hopelessness… everything was bubbling in your chest, a feeling of guilt coating everything, making you feel like you were somehow at fault here, like you hadn’t prevented this. You paced around for most of the night, only pausing your wondering when the realisation hit you again, big tears slipping past your eyes as you recalled the memories of the times shared, stopping your incessant actions at the faint knock at the door early in the morning. “I saw your light on.” he looked behind you, his lips twitching up for a short moment, only to fall back into a stoic look when he met your gaze, clearly seeing the tears that you tried to wipe away before opening the door, your eyes red with sadness and rage. “Tell me you didn’t.” It was a whisper, one that made his heart break. It wasn’t just your expression, nor the redness under your eyes, but your moving away from the door, as if you feared him. “Alfie Solomons-” he started, willing to offer an explanation for his deeds. “I don’t care about Alfie! I asked you to stop this after the vendetta happened!” you shouted, getting closer just to throw punches at his chest, yet no matter your anger you were nothing but gentle, barely making him flinch. “He didn’t stop either.” “Because he’s stubborn. He’s-” “I am too. He killed my men. Just ‘cause you were closer to Arthur doesn’t mean that the death of my men means nothing.” “I don’t want to be part of this anymore.” you announced, slipping from his grasp and moving away, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. “You never were a part of this.” “Maybe not, but with how things are going I’m going to end up as collateral damage.” “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. Even if you stood by him, I wouldn’t-” You turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring his words and grabbing your traveling bag from the wardrobe as he made his way up, scoffing but following you into the bedroom nonetherless. You picked your clothes and folded them quickly, placing them in the bag and throwing a couple other belongings in. “What are you doing?” He asked, sitting on your bed and stopping your movements by holding your hips, his touch delicate, in harsh contrast with his look. He always felt so… different around you. Delicate, careful, loving. Little things, like the way he remembered what wine you liked, or some of your little quirks, or the softness of his touches when he was near you. After the night where you both fell into your bed, he’d become more open with showing his affection, but before that he never really shied away from it either. His hand gently cradling the small of your back when guiding you into a restaurant, or the brush of his fingers against your cheek when a stray hair got away from behind your ear. “I’m ending it tomorrow.” He announced, avoiding your gaze. “What?” You turned to face him, not fully understanding his plan of attack. “I called a meeting with Thomas.” “To apologise?” “To make a deal.” He corrected you. “But it might not work. So…” He took one of his rings off, holding your hand and placing it in your palm, closing it around it. “To remember me by. Or not. Maybe it’s better to forget me, after all.” He brought your hand to your lips, as if to seal a deal, smiling. “I won’t have to remember you. You’re not going.” Your hand on his arm was supposed to stop him, or slow him down at least, but he just smiled at you as you would with a child that doesn’t fully understand the state the world is in. “I have to finish what I started.” “Luca, don’t.” you tried to give it back, but he shook his head, moving away from you and down the stairs. “Arthur didn’t deserve it.” “He’s the one that pulled the trigger.” You didn’t speak, not knowing what to add. You knew he was referring to the death of his father, but what Arthur had done was almost out of mercy. Tommy wouldn’t have stopped, so he intervened. There were many mistakes he had made in his life, but dying because of an act of mercy wasn’t what he deserved. “Ti amo, bedda mia.” And with a final look he left, not waiting for an answer, exhaling when the door closed behind him. He saw the way you looked at him, the tears that escaped your eyes, feeling betrayed by his actions, but he did what he had to do. “Luca, we’re not finished talking.” Your words had no effect on the man, just like you knew they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking them. It wasn’t only grief that was holding you back now, but fear. For a moment you saw the man just as he had been painted since the beginning: a gangster, a killer, nothing more but a heartless man. You fell back against the wall, clinging on to the ring he had gifted you, the only thing that felt certain right now. You watched as he stepped out, closing the door behind him ever so gently, to avoid making noise, and wondered what hid behind those eyes. How much could you risk for him?

He could feel you looking at him as he made his way out, knowing just how disappointed you were, but he wouldn’t back down. He knew what was going to go down tomorrow, what he’d say, how he'd move, and he’d do anything to have you by his side.

After all, all is fair in love and war.

#luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x you #luca changretta #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #love and war fic #Liza's attempts at writing

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

Text

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09 <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again.

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided.

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.”

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake.

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more.

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine.

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time.

“Oh god, Mick.”

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.”

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.”

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find.

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm.

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed.

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind.

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met.

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered.

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag.

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs.

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her.

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick.

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall.

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend.

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.”

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed.

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone.

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway.

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next.

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain.

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again.

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been.

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget.

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears.

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?”

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood.

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?”

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic.

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.”

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.”

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on.

“Y/N?”

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#to be free #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #mountain man!Dean #nathalie writes

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

Text

Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name? If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said. And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

#joaquin torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquín torres #lieutenant torres #lieutenant torres x reader #fatws #tfatws

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deanstead · 3 years

Text

I Am The Apocalypse

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader; Kelly Severide x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of injury, Mentions of blood

Summary: Mini Episode rewrite of Chicago Fire S03x19 where reader was in Med when the blast went off.

A/N: First Chicago/Jay fic so I hope it’s okay~ Just something that popped in my head while I was rewatching so I just penned it down. Wrote it mainly from reader’s POV so only picked off parts where I felt would fit!

---

(Y/N POV)

I sipped my coffee at the table, dressed in Jay’s hoodie, which was my personal favourite, watching him pour his coffee.

“I can feel you staring.” He chuckled, as another lady stuck her head into the kitchen.

“Hey… Hi. Morning…” Jay glanced at her awkwardly.

“Melanie.” She responded, stepping into the kitchen.

“Jay. Will’s brother.” He responded, handing her the coffee cup.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She responded with a smile, as I watched the exchange with amusement. She seemed to just realise my presence and gave a polite nod before shuffling out of the kitchen to meet Will in the living room.

I raised my eyebrows at Jay who laughed and poured another cup of coffee for himself.

“When do you have to be at work?” Jay asked his brother, a cheeky smile lingering on his face, as Will entered the kitchen.

Will looked at his watch, “About five minutes ago?”

Jay exchanged a look with me. “It’s your first day.” He commented to his brother, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Uh, first and last, as it turns out.” Will replied, not looking up from the refrigerator.

Jay froze. “You’re… joking?”

Will shook his head. “No.”

I checked my phone, vaguely registering the conversation Jay was having with his brother about him returning to New York.

“Just give it a couple of weeks.” Jay paused before adding, “At least.”

Will turned to face Jay and shrugged. “I got to go.” Will turned to leave, adding, “Bye Y/N.”

I waved, gulping down the last of my coffee as Jay turned back to me with a sigh. I smiled and he took the empty mug from my hands, running it under water in the sink.

As I made to get up, my head gave a dull throb. Again. This stupid migraine hadn’t let up for at least a week. I closed my eyes and frowned, waiting for it to pass, pausing in my movement to get up from the table.

“Y/N?” I could feel Jay hovering over me now.

I cracked my eyes open, looking up at him. “I’m fine. It’s just that stupid migraine.”

Jay’s expression softened. “Maybe you should get that looked at.” He suggested, gently stroking my hair.

I nodded, “Yeah, maybe I’ll go to Med later.”

“I gotta go. Text me, okay?” Jay said, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I smiled. “Be safe!” I called after him as he turned to give me a wink.

---

I had decided to make Med my first stop of the day after all and I was already sitting in a chair in the waiting room after registration. I had barely been there for 5 minutes when the waiting room became crowded with familiar faces of incoming firefighters from Firehouse 51, supporting incoming patients.

I nodded greetings to those who noticed me as they helped people in. I had been at 51 with Kelly as well as Molly’s with Jay enough times to be on familiar terms with most of them. I settled in for what I was sure was going to be a long wait, only looking up when I heard Kelly’s voice calling out, “Kendra!” as he helped the man he was supporting into a wheelchair.

Kelly glanced around and spotted me. “Y/N? You okay? What are you doing here?” He took a step closer to me.

I smiled at him. “I’m fine, just a persistent migraine, thought I’d better check it out. What’s up?” I asked, motioning to the room flooding with other firefighters.

Before Kelly could respond, a nurse stepped forward. “Everyone, may I have your attention please?” Her call was in vain to the bustle of the now full waiting room. Kelly glanced at her before calling at the top of his voice. “Listen up!”

The emergency room fell to silence almost immediately. She smiled gratefully at Kelly before turning to address everyone else. “All right, we are going to have a very full day here and I understand none of you feel well. But we’re going to need help from you as well as patience. If you’re here because of the ammonia leak…”

My attention trailed off as I noticed a patient get up and make his way nearer to her. My gut gave an uneasy churn as I watched him and I glanced over at Kelly but he wasn’t paying attention to me any longer.

The man dragged a chair towards him, stepping onto it. The nurse had now noticed him. “Sir, not yet, please. I need everyone…”

He swayed a little before he looked at everyone. “If you thought Ebola was a nightmare, I am the apocalypse!”

My eyes caught the grenade in his hand. “Kelly!” I shouted, as the man pulled out the pin.

“Death to all Americans. You’re all dead in two weeks!”

Kelly spun around as I saw Casey exit the treatment room that he had been in.

“Allahu akbar!” he screamed.

I watched in horror as Kelly sprinted towards him, pushing the nurse out of the way and flinging the man onto the ground, the sounds of the explosion drowning out my voice screaming my friend’s name.

----

The aftermath of the explosion was nothing but chaos. I heard firefighters running around, trying to contain the panic, as well as the people who were trying to run out of the emergency room.

“Hey, you okay?” I looked up.

“Y/N?” Will asked again when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, I think so.” His eyes raked over me. “Let me take a look.” I let Will do what he needed to do and answered questions that he asked me. Satisfied that I wasn’t seriously hurt, he squeezed my shoulder. “Stay here,” he instructed before heading over to another badly injured patient.

I could hear several instructions being called out but only one caught my attention.

“Hey, hey over here! It’s Severide!”

My head snapped up and I clambered to my feet. As everyone came around him, calling his name. Sylvie grabbed his wrist, “It’s a weak pulse.”

Will quickly rushed over. “Let me see.”

Feeling his pulse at his neck, Will looked up. “No. Black tag him. He’s gone.”

I felt my heart drop into my gut. Even I knew what that meant.

Peter spun around to look at Will. “What?”

Will met Peter’s gaze. “The percentages are very low that he’ll…”

A look of rage passed Peter’s face. “I don’t give a damn about percentages.”

Will faltered and I reached out to touch his shoulder, my voice shaking a little. “Will… please…”

Will glanced at me before looking back at Peter. “No problem. Grab a gurney.” I watched as they busied putting Kelly onto a gurney, my heart giving another uncomfortable squeeze as I heard Casey report back to their fire chief outside.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there in a daze, long after they had wheeled Kelly away. “Hey,” I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to face the nurse who had been trying to control the crowd before the explosion. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, before shrugging. “You’re April, right?” I asked her, as she looked at me quizzically before smiling.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you from Kelly. I’m Y/N.” I motioned in the direction of the treatment room Kelly was now in. She smiled back but glanced at the cut on my forehead. “Let’s just take care of this, okay?”

April helped to plaster a band-aid on my forehead, commenting that it was a miracle I wasn’t that badly hurt.

----

(Jay’s POV)

I turned into the hospital, climbing out of my car before picking up my phone to dial Y/N’s number.

Pick up, come on.

As the ringing died out, I desperately tried Will’s number. “Are you in there?”

“I am. Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here said he had something worse than Ebola.”

I froze. “What, like, he’s spreading it with this?” The pit in my stomach was expanding.

Will affirmed it. “Yeah, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him.” I could almost feel the fear bubbling up inside of me.

“Who is he?” I demanded.

Will’s response didn’t help. “No idea. Do us all a favour and find out, would you?”

“Will, wait…” The line went dead before I could ask him anything else.

In desperation, I dialled her number again, hoping she would answer.

---

(Y/N POV)

Thanking April, I got up as she moved on to help Will and Gabriela with another patient.

As I stood, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, exhaling a breath as I stared at Jay’s name flashing back at me.

“Jay?” I answered.

“Tell me you’re not in there.” I could hear Jay’s voice laced with worry.

“Yeah, I am. Sorry.” I replied, looking around at the carnage.

“Damn it.” He cursed under his breath.

Even in this situation, I could imagine the look on his face. “Jay, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I could hear him sigh. “Look, Will is there too, so…”

I interrupted him. “Yeah, I know. He’s looked me over already, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

“Y/N…” I could hear his reluctance.

“Jay… you do what you got to do to get us out of here.” I paused. “I love you.”

Jay let out another breath on his end. “Be safe. I love you.”

We hung up and I headed towards a corner of the room, squatting next to a mother and daughter when a part of the ceiling came crashing down, as the girl to scream in fright.

I turned to her. “Hey, what’s your name, sweetheart?” I eyed Otis who ran over armed with an extinguisher to fight the flames and I continued to talk to her, successfully distracting her from the fire. Her mother smiled in thanks at me and I just smiled back. “It’s going to be alright.” I reassured her, my eyes falling again on the treatment room Kelly had been wheeled into, not sure if I was reassuring her or myself.

I looked up again as some firefighters entered the emergency room with ladders and extra extinguishers, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. They clambered up the ladders, changing extinguishers the moment they emptied one. April was going around the room trying to reassure everyone and I squeezed the little girl’s hand and smiled at her.

“Fire’s out!”, “All clear!” The firefighters shouted, clambering down from the ladders.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I stood next to Adam, surveying the computer in front of us inside the makeshift tent we were stationed in.

“Detective.”

I turned to glance in the direction of the voice of Sharon Goodwin, noting the couple following behind her.

“The parents of…”

She didn’t need to say more. I motioned to a few chairs. “Hi. Please have a seat.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?”

The man looked up with pleading eyes. “He was a smart boy. Always nice, helpful. This country has given our family so much. How could this have happened?”

I looked away for a moment. “He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola.”

They looked up in horror, as the man closed his eyes, almost as if in defeat. “From his work.”

I frowned, “What do you mean, from his work?” Adam shifted his weight.

“He was working at BHO Labs. They study infectious diseases.”

I looked at Adam. “We got to get somebody down there right now.”

Adam nodded, “I’m on it.”

I turned back to the parents, “What else can you tell me? Anything about who he might have been involved with, planned this with?”

I needed to focus on this. I needed to get them out of there.

---

(Y/N POV)

Casey stopped in front of me. “How we doing?”

I nodded back at him. He glanced at the mother and daughter next to me. “I’m working on getting some food and water in here. Okay?” He smiled before getting up, patting my shoulder.

I watched his retreating back but was distracted by someone calling out to him. “Hey fireman!”

I watched as Casey turned towards the man, who towered over him. “What’s the latest?” he demanded.

Casey frowned. “Everyone’s doing all they can.”

The man’s voice rose again. “What the hell does that mean? No one is telling us anything!”

I flinched; shouting wasn’t something I handled very well.

Casey moved towards him, trying to ask him to calm down. He seemed to give up the fight against Casey, squatting down next to the counter but the next minute, I heard Gabby’s voice, “Matt!” as the big guy swung a pipe towards Casey.

I pushed myself further back into the wall, shutting my eyes, hearing the scuffling sounds. If everyone would just calm the hell down and focus on what mattered, the faster we could probably get out of here. I focused my thoughts on Jay, trying to even out my breathing so that I could prevent a panic attack.

“You doing okay?” Will asked, grabbing my elbow.

My eyes snapped open, darting towards the other side of the room where Casey and April seemed to have handled the situation pretty well.

“Come on, why don’t you come with me.” Will muttered, pulling me up and leading me into a room. Herrmann was inside talking to a doctor, who Will introduced as Diane Claman.

I stood in the corner of the room as Will’s phone rang, and I heard Jay’s voice on the other end of the line. Even at this distance, it felt reassuring.

“He was working with Marburg, he injected himself with it.” Will repeated to Diane.

“What’s Marburg?” Herrmann asked, frowning a little.

Diane looked at us. “It’s a viral haemorrhagic fever. The Soviets developed it as a biological weapon.” Herrmann and I exchanged a look as she turned back to Will. “Ask them which strain of the Marburg virus.”

“Which strain?” Will’s voice broke the silence again.

“Ravn.” He repeated.

Jay must have said something and Will hung up with an “All right.”

Diane looked up again. “Okay, so now I just have to see if he was past the incubation period and actually infectious.”

For the first time, I spoke up. “And if he was past the incubation period?”

Will looked at me and shook his head slightly.

“It means Aleem was a walking biological weapon.” A grim silence fell across the room.

----

I had wandered to where the rest of the firefighters had gathered, outside the treatment room where Kelly was in.

I could see the doctor extract a piece of shrapnel from Kelly and just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a spurt of blood shot out from Kelly’s open wound. I heard Sylvie’s voice, “Arterial bleeder!”

I bit my lip as I felt someone take my hand. Gabby gave me a small smile, squeezing my hand. We turned back to the room, as the machine slowly showed Kelly’s vitals stabilising and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

A few minutes later, Herrmann emerged from another treatment room, looking dazed. Everyone looked up at him. “What is it?”

Herrmann let a small smile grace his lips. “Not contagious.” The sense of relief flooded the room as Diane stepped out. “Influenza A tested positive, but the Marburg virus didn’t have time to incubate. Whatever he had in his body died with him.”

The sigh of relief was audible as everyone hugged each other.

Will looked at me and smiled, nodding. “Open up the ER!” he announced, looking around.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I heard the vague sounds of the firefighters cheering outside and looked at Adam.

He nodded, motioning for me to head outside. I patted him on the back, jogging towards the ER, looking above all the heads to see if I could spot her.

(Y/N’s POV)

The only thing I wanted to do was to get out of here.

I looked towards Casey.

“Severide’s fine. We won’t be able to see him until tomorrow, anyway. Go.” He reassured me, guiding me towards the exit.

I stumbled out, wincing slightly at the bruises all over my body but peered.

I spotted him almost instantly, the worried lines across his face, scanning the crowd.

“Jay.” I breathed, heading straight for him. I crashed into his arms as I heard Jay’s sigh of relief in my ear. “Oh my god.” He muttered, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my body and cradling my head. I could feel how relieved he was as he sank his body into mine.

Quickly, he pulled away, surveying me at arm’s length. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

I smiled, putting my hand against his cheek. “Bruised, but nothing serious.” I smiled.

“Thank God.” He pulled me back into his arms, holding me tightly as if he was never going to let me go.

Gently he broke away again, kissing me on the forehead. “Come on.” He muttered, gently leading me towards the white tents that I could now see.

“Halstead, get out of here.” Antonio appeared in front of us.

Jay paused, studying Antonio.

“I got you. Go on, get out of here.” Antonio winked at me and I nodded back at him gratefully.

“Thanks.” Halstead and Antonio fist bumped each other and Jay helped me into his car.

We didn’t say much on the ride back but Jay never let go of my hand.

We drove straight to his apartment and I headed straight for the shower, my bruised body welcoming the relief of warm water. Once we were cleaned up, Jay crawled into bed with me and I welcomed it, glad the day was over.

Jay put his chin on the top of my head. “You really scared me today.” He whispered.

My arms wrapped around his torso, I looked up at him.

“If I lost you…” his voice trailed off.

I leaned further into his embrace. “Honestly? I was scared too. Kelly got hurt… I was afraid I was going to lose him… afraid I wasn’t going to be able to see you again… I…” I paused before continuing, “Thanks for being here, Jay.”

Jay tilted my chin gently up so that I was looking at him and smiled. “Always.” Leaning forward, Jay pulled me into a deep kiss, which I leaned into, grateful that this day had ended as well as it could have.

#chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd oneshot #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire oneshot #chicago pd #chicago fire #jay halstead #jay #jay halstead x reader #jay x reader #kelly severide #3x19 #i am the apocalypse #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #jay halstead x y/n

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joestarwhore · 3 years

Text

Risotto Nero - A Price to Pay

{Being the only girl in the Bucci Gang has its perks. Your familia loved you, & were fiercely protective- but what’re they supposed to do when another Capo decides to have you to himself? He’s gotta have you.}

{one way or another.}

_____________________________________

“Bucciarati were almost to Napoli, should I head straight for the city or the safe house?”

Fugo’s sharp voice woke you from your nap. You & the team have been traveling for days tracking three stand users who’ve been smuggling contraband out of Passioné’s grasp. So far, the trail has led to Napoli- and to make it worse, no one knows what they look like. But luckily, you had the name of the man in charge of the operation.

“Go to the safe house. They’re not going to move anything in broad daylight, & we haven’t been able to stop for an actual break.” Bruno circled the location on Fugo’s map. “We can spare a few hours.”

You looked to your right to see Mista asleep against the window, drool slowly coming out of his mouth. You would’ve laughed if you had any right to, with the glimpse of yourself you caught in the rear view you were surprised no one woke you up with a camera flash.

You stretched your neck side to side, your movements slowly bringing your body back to life. You could hear Giorno, Abbachio, and Narancia gently start stirring to life as Bruno continued to talk about the location, not being able to keep in their loud ass yawns. Well, honestly, that was only Narancia’s problem.

Bruno swiveled the seat to face the back, his perfect black bob not moving an inch while he does it. “Now that we’re in Napoli, it’s time to be debriefed about our current situation. Would one of you please wake Mista?”

Abbachio wasted no time to slap Mista in the back of the head, causing Mista to lurch forward with a yelp. His hand immediately went to the back of his head as he whipped around towards Abbachio. “What the hell, you dumbass!! What was that for??”

“For debriefing you idiot, pay attention.”

You giggled, resulting in a hearty “Shut up!” from Mista. After Bruno’s scolding, he started to explain the facts.

“The intelligence we received stated that the man controlling the contraband operation is a Capo. His name is Risotto Nero, the leader of La Squandra. He’s been known to defy the Familia before, so it’d make sense that he would be the one running this show.”

Bruno’s face slowly grimmed as he continued, pausing after he spoke. “While he is a traitor to the Familia, he is also one of the most powerful Capo’s in the organization. Not just because of his title, but because of his stand.”

The tension grew substantially.

“What’s his stand, Boss? Does anyone have an idea?” Narancias question rung in the air like a bell.

“No. Because no ones lived to tell about it.”

The chill that ran down your spine was unnerving. No one knows what his stand is?? No one has even the slightest idea?? How can that be?

“Boss, how’re we supposed to find this cazzo when all we have to go on is a name?” you ask, “How’re we supposed to defend ourselves against a stand that no one has ever beat?”

“By keeping your stand close. Giorno’s Golden Wind can sense life, and Narancia can track anything that breathes. Abbachio’s Moody Jazz could very well be our ace in the hole, if we can simply find where he’s been- but that’s hard to do when you’re following a ghost.”

God, that wasn’t reassuring.

Soon, Fugo’s road rage landed you at the safe house, a 3 story cabin in the middle of the woods. Mista’s excitement blossomed as soon as he saw the giant flatscreen through the window, everyone else’s did when they finally got to leave the stuffy ass van.

Abbachio helped you out of the car, letting you hang on to his arm until you’ve cracked all the bones you needed to feel relief. “Thank you Abba, I’ve been needing to do that for a while now!”

Abbachio threw you a smirk. “Yeah yeah don’t get gross on me.” He could throw up any facade he wants- you see right through his badass tough guy wall. You gave him a grin back, & grabbed your duffel bag out from under your seat. You looked back to see that the other boys had already made it inside, Bruno & Giorno already setting up the radio & laptops to start working.

Bruno def wasn’t playing around when he was looking for a place to buy. This was the nicest cabin you had ever seen, pure dark wood walls with marble flooring, a grand staircase with a BEAUTIFUL bay window?? Capo DEFINITELY had perks.

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

[3:33 AM]

You bolted awake as thunder and lightning surrounded your bedroom. Your mind frantic as the open curtains revealed howling winds and light flashing through the skies.

You took some deep breaths and calmed yourself down. It’s only a storm, nothing to- why was your door open?

Adrenaline started to churn in your stomach as you swung your legs over your bed. You stepped carefully towards the hallway, peeking down to see that everyone else’s doors were open too. You tip toed down, peering into Bruno & Abbachio’s rooms, seeing them both empty; and upon further inspection, so were Giorno’s and Mista’s. Narancia and Fugo’s following suit.

Where the fuck is everyone, and why are you not with them?

You back tracked down the hall, your legs shaking as you slowly walked down the stairs.

Were you being attacked?

The lightning lit your path down the stairs as you kept your eyes peeled for anything out of place. As you came down to the first platform, the stench of blood overwhelmed your senses, making your eyes grown wide and your hand go over your mouth and nose. This cannot be real, why is blood in the air??

“You know when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel among the saints & sinners of Napoli.”

Your hand gripped the banister as you stood in defense, looking everywhere for the source of the deep voice. Who was that?? Where the fuck is your team??

“& Then I saw Ghiaccio getting in a fight with another Mafioso. I thought it was just one of Bucciaratis boys, but oh was i so close yet so wrong.”

You slowly made your way down stairs, “I guess your a big fan of mine then, quite a shame I can’t see where you are for such occasion.”

A deep chuckle resonated through the estate. “Our life together will be wonderful, I am very sure.”

“The fuck are you-“

Your stomach dropped.

The blood. The gashes. The gore.

All of the boys were hanging by their hands, bloody chains protruding from their wrists and connecting them to the ceiling. Blood oozed from Fugos mouth, while Narancias unconscious form clearly had a broken nose and extreme loss of blood. They all were simply.. hanging by a thread.

“Jesus fucking Christ.. you’re fuc-fucking kidding..”

Invisible hands hold onto your sides as your body freezes in shock, the pressure and heat of them telling you they were quite large. Your heart beater out of your chest as you felt a muscular set of abs press against your back, those hands weaving over your chest to hold down your arms.

“Do you see, Amore? Do you see how powerful I am compared to them?” Your eyes tore away from the bloodied boys, closing them as tightly as you could. “When I saw how powerful you were and how you carried yourself, I knew we were soul mates. I had to have you. I had to have your body, your mind,” His hand rubbed gently against your clothes crotch, shooting heated adrenaline to your core, “& your pretty little cunt just full of my kids.”

Your cheeks turned violently red as you staggered to breathe. “Who..are you..”

Lips pressed against your temple as a deep chuckle vibrated your body. “Darling, I’m the whole reason you’re out here.”

Your heart froze.

“Risotto?? It’s you?!”

Suddenly two black clothed muscular arms appeared around you, one of them tilting your chin back to reveal two black and red eyes staring straight at you. “Surprised, Cara?”

You started to panic, the danger of your situation settling in. Bruno, Giorno, all of the boys, were out of action. There was no help for you, and you couldn’t summon your stand like this. Was this simply the end? Was he just saving you for last for his sick fantasy??

“Please.. what do you even want from me??”

Risotto put your hands behind your back and tied them together. “What I’ve wanted since I saw you; a life. With just you & me.” He placed you on a chair, kneeling before you with his hands tracing you and your skin. Your breath hitched as he ran over certain spots, his eyes growing darker and darker the more you react. You had to do something, you couldn’t let your family be killed over someone’s obsession over you.

“I’m going with you whether I like it or not, right?”

Risotto chuckled a humorless laugh. “A smart one! Oh i like that, I like that. Maybe our kids will get that trait.”

Dread sunk in your stomach. There’s no escape, is there?

“If I go with you, willingly with no struggle- will you allow me to use my stand on them so they atleast don’t die of their injuries?”

Risotto stared at you, looking for any sign of betrayal, but he wasn’t gonna find anything. You knew there wasn’t a way out, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance in hell against him. Atleast if you can save the boys, there wouldn’t be any death.

“Fine. But one slip up, Amore, and I’ll make your condition worse than theirs.”

Risotto unbinded your arms, helping you stand up and get your balance again. You walked towards the boys until you were a few meters away from them. You could sense their shallow breathing from your powers, you knew if you were gonna do this you had to act fast.

“Iron Maiden.”

A steam punk victorian girl emerged behind you, wielding a glowing white scythe, its jet black hair flowing behind her.

“Scythes Blessing.”

Iron Maiden hovered to the front of you, your scythe glowing bright white as it swung a mass of energy towards them all. Their wounds mended together, the blood returning to their bodies. After the act was done, the boys passed out on the floor, surely to wake up in a few hours.

“Now, we start our life, my sweet angel.”

Tears silently went down your cheeks as you turned to the beautiful, evil man. His eyes showed a softness towards you as he extended his giant hand. Your dainty one took his, holding it as he led you to the door.

“Where are you taking me?”

Risotto swung open the huge doors to reveal the storm still actively raging, his matte black sports car in the circle drive. “Home, cara. Our home.”

You hurried to get in his front seat, Risotto closing your door and going to the drivers door. He got in, revving the car to life and pulled the car out of the drive way. Risotto placed his hand on your thigh as he took you away from the estate. Your heart hurt for your boys, but this was for the best, right? Atleast this way they’re safe. They’re safe.

“Say your goodbyes Cara. Your life starts over with me.”

“Only me.”

#jojos bizzare adventure yandere #n/s/f/w jjba #vento aureo #yandere jjba #yandere risotto #la squadra #risotto headcanons #risotto nero

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Text

CW: Pet whump; dehumanization; conditioned mindset; classism; some nasty coping mechanism; food whump/forced diet; restrains;

...Sweet Pea stops banging on the door when it actually hears someone coming. He has been screaming until his voice becomes hoarse, from the second he was shoved in there, alternating between begging and demanding to be let go.

But now that someone is actually coming… He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to see them, especially not that man. Young Master was bad enough - Stealing him from Master, making him shut down and forcing him in the car… - but that man, that man was worse. There was something wrong about him.

It wasn’t just that he was a peasant, someone who should never have a pet like him, and that was daring to take him from Master, no. That man was off. Sweet Pea pressed his heels on the floor when he was dragged, making the man fight him every step of the way, especially after Young Master stopped at a little sign saying ‘No Farlan Zone’. But that’s when he saw it, as the man frowned as he struggled, revealing a roll of sharp teeth, eyes that are a little just too green, a faint smell he cannot place. Wrong, wrong, wrong, every fiber of his body screams.

...He lost it for a second, and the man made a big progress on pushing him towards the house. He went back to fighting even more - he hated it here, he wanted to go back, how dare these people take him? These fucking peasants, living like a fucking ogre in the middle of a forest…

Those thoughts kept the fear at bay, a placid, but fragile, surface of anger that kept all of his panic hidden.

Still, the man managed to drag him out inside the house, where he saw someone familiar… He recognized that pet. He did. He saw pictures, the pitch perfect hair, falling in white curls around the freckled face… A good pet, like him, who once belonged to his Master. And what not… if he dug further up on his memory… He could remember him from the school. The prodigy of the musical side.

He fell limply. These was… where the pets Gerard discarded went to, then? But… Master didn’t say anything about sending him away, and he would, right? Was this… a test? or maybe he just didn’t care enough… after all, it was his son who took him. He would steal from his father, would he?

The pet made some weird gestures, Sweet Pea didn’t understand why. But they meant something to the man dragging him.

“...This is Sweet Pea. He will… stay with us for a while”

The man tries to appear cheerfully, and the pet gestures again.

“...Because he isn’t happy about it. It’s like a sleepover, except he has no choice” He narrows his eyes “No, of course I didn’t know. I would have told you and Blue about it”

...Blue. So there is one more here, and that is pet name. He whimpers, and the man’s grip softens a little, so he takes that chance and pushes him off to run for the door, but it has been locked.

No, no, no, no please, open up... But it was in vain. As the man tried to approach him - with scissors, fucking scirssors - he curled away in fear. He couldn’t let himself be damaged - he was Master’s property, not for anyone to hurt. He didn’t believe it when the man said it was just for the retrains… But he waited until his feet were freed, and he dragged the first thing he could get ahold of, clumsily throwing a chair at him. He didn’t quite hit, since his hands were till tied up, but he got some time to run through the house.

In the living room, he found himself face to face with the other pet - must have been a Mutt of the worst kind, his face awfully scarred. And Sweet Pea screamed, terrified of that happening to him, as well.

He didn’t realize he was led right onto a trap, as he ran upstairs and hid in a closet. He stays there… For a while. When he finally gets the courage to go out again, when the house seems silent and dark… He tries to escape again. But the bedroom door was locked. He noticed some food and water had been left for him. He didn’t dare touch any of the food. It was nothing he was allowed to eat, anyway. He took only some small water sips, afraid it was drugged.

He didn’t feel anything different, but didn’t want to risk his luck. He tried to sleep in the closet but it was small and cramped, even though it felt safe. He… decided to sleep on the bed. He was a pet, he wasn’t supposed to. But then again, this wasn’t his Master so why should he care?

...He… Stopped near the window. The curtains were open, for once. He didn’t resist peeking outside…

The stars were beautiful, as always. Even more so here, surrounded by a sea of trees and alway from the city lights that surrounded Master’s house. And they blinked in the distance, carrying the weight of something he had lost and forgotten.

That’s when he finally allowed himself to cry, sobs echoing and getting lost in the silence of the woods. He cried until he felt empty… And almost in peace.

He curled up and on a blanket, not really caring about punishments anymore, and fell asleep.

He woke up to a soft morning light, and a knock on his door. It made him jump awake, grabbing the closest thing he could find - a bedside lamp - to defend himself with. In truth, it was just to appease his anxiety. He wouldn’t dare hit a person, no matter how lowly and filth.

“...Morning, dear” The man said, with a soft smile. Sweet Pea flinched, backing away against the wall. He had another tray, and smiled sadly when he saw Sweet Pea hadn’t touched the other one.

“...I… Want to apologize for yesterday. I was not prepared for this at all… But I guess is no excuse” He says, setting the trail down “...I guess we started on the wrong foot. But I think we should try and talk this through. I’m-”

“Take me back” He demanded, with as much authority as he dared to use, shaking like a leaf as he held the object. If the man was afraid, he didn’t show. He probably looked pathetic like this “Take me back, take me back to Master”

“...I’m sorry, love. We can’t do this now. It’s important-”

“Don’t call me that, don’t call me love” He shouted, and to his surprise... the man… nodded.

“I apologize. A habit I guess, since my boys like it. But I’ll watch out for it” He smiled still, disturbing and creepy and awful and, and, he hated here, hate here.

“Take me back. Take me back, I don’t belong here. I’m Master’s property, please, please”

“...Sweet Pea… I know this is scary… But trust me, we are trying to help you-”

“No, no, no!” He shouts, throwing the lamp away. It breaks on the side, and he regrets it immediately, as now he didn’t have a lamp anymore and there was glass on the floor. A very quick flash passes his mind, a time where he was forced to dance over the broken shards. He pushes it away, under the surface of anger “Shut up, shut up, take me back”

...The man still didn’t seem bothered, but he hated that more. He was being bad, so bad, and the man had that calm, mocking, scary fucking face. He clenched his fists.

“I don’t want to be here” He screams, knowing pets don’t have wants “I’m not going to obey you. I’m not a pet for someone like you. I’m from the best academy, I’ve been trained for years, I’m not going to just bend down a for a simpleton such as you”

...And the man lifted an eyebrow.

“...That’s… A lot of classism for someone who is technically under me” He seems… disappointed.

...And Sweet Pea gasps, opens his mouth… But what can he possibly say? He is lower than the lowest of men. Yet he is better than the other pets, made to serve men like him. The man shrugged, tilting his head a little.

“Sorry. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s all man-made bullshit anyway. Want to eat something? You must be hungry after yesterday”

He shook his head, crossing his arm and looking away, back at the window. Is good because… Because to him it looks like he is being dismissive. He is actually looking out the window. Sunlight, sunlight. He hopes he isn’t locked away from it.

“Master would never allow me to eat that”

“Well he isn’t here is he?” He doesn’t look, but feels the smile on his voice. No, no good, no good. It 's a test. He knows this game.

“...Are you proposing me to be bad? That’s not gonna happen, I will not fall for your tricks, peasant”

He looks this time, and again, he gets eyebrows raised and a shrug.

“Well… Can you tell me what you can eat? I can try to adapt it for you. Haru is a really good cook, I’m sure he can pull it off”

...This… This made his guard crumble, just a little, as he let his arms down, frowning. Was he… really going to adjust things this easily? It… It should be a test, right? Maybe this was all a test. Master testing him to see if he would remain loyal and good? But… Gerard had never pulled anything like that before. He was usually very clear about his rules. And if it was a test… why would the man give up that easily? Why would he make any change to accomodate a pet?

He bit his lips, he felt blood.

“Hm… Ahnh… Okay” He whispers, going through the list of foods. The man smiles, and sits on the bed beside him. At a space he feels… safe, at least. As safe as you can be on a room with someone you don’t trust.

“...No sugar? Like none? Ever?”

“...He gave me cake!” Sweet Pea smiled proudly “...Once”

The man’s expression is… Sad?

“Well, for now, I’ll get you some fruits so you don’t go hungry. I’ll do what’s possible to follow that… But, just so you know… There is no rule about that, here. You are allowed to eat whatever you want” He then smiles, chuckles “...Well, Blue isn’t allowed coffee. Not that he listens”

Blue. He only saw that pet for a second, staring at him from behind the sofa. The image still haunts him.

“...Is that why he has those scars?” Sweet Pea hugs himself, slightly more confident after… After the man seemed at least willing to respect Master’s Gerard’s decisions a little.

“...No. Blue has a messy past. He was owned by some really cruel people”

“He must have been a really bad pet to end up like that”

...He catches a brief, brief sigh from him, before he puts back the soft expression.

“...Nah. He is a sweetheart. Those were only bad people”

“Bullshit” Sweet Pea whispers, still hugging himself. The man decides to drop that subject.

“Hm, I… I’m not confident about letting you out of the house yet, so… I’ll allow you out of the bedroom when I’m home, but when I’m not, I’ll have to keep you locked for now. I hope that’s fine. Again, just for now” ...The man seems nervous “But it’s a matter of your own safety. Temporary.”

“...Bullshit. Do what you want” he looks away and refuses to answer anything else. He knows he is a prisoner here. He has no intention of even leaving his room, unless it is for escape. At least there is a window.

#pet whump #whump #Sweet Pea the whumpee #orfeu and haru #blue needs a tag #whorefeu

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darling-cas · 3 years

Text

Hoax (an original story)

I amaze myself sometimes.

My therapist says I need to go back to things that bring me joy, says I need to find happiest in life again. During one specific session, I was asked to name a time when I was truly at peace, a time I felt moments of pure joy outside of my partner and friends. The first thing that came to mind was a time years ago, when I would post stories here, on this website, for you all to see.

This surprised me honestly, because if you knew me personally (*cough* hi @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie *cough*) you would know the amount of stress and pressure I put myself under when it came to writing We Are Young, Whatever It Takes, etc, etc, etc. But despite all the negative emotions, the moments that always stand out to me is sitting on my laptop after I clicked post, watching all the love and adoration pure in from each and every one of you.

I say this monthly but, I really do want to get back into writing. Thanks to my therapist and business major partner, I’ve been dipping my toes into editing for others as a side job. But I want to make my way back to writing my own stories and sharing them with even the smallest corner of the world. This story, Hoax, I wrote actually one year ago, when I first started therapy and after a hard heartbreak. It helped me feel like myself again and lifted me out of the darkness.

I hope, for even the smallest number of you, it does the same. I hope you can feel the same magic that I felt when I wrote it. Take this as a thank you for, years ago, bringing me such joy and happiness.

Until next time...

Cas.

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

The air was midsummer sweet.

It was an Indian summer of blue sky dreams and late evening tears, with the weather shifting moods in the blink of an eye. Grey clouds would eclipse the setting sun with their mighty fists, soaking up the colour of the earth like ink drenching a cotton ball.

And with the continuous alternating weather came the busty smell of sunblock and wet grass. Summer scents combined with the salty air and pungent fish that cling to Jake’s senses from the moment he started his journey along the coastal towns.

His mountain travels started just mere days ago. The task of hiking the grand peak was something he was finally going to cross off his bucket list. Dipping into his savings and requesting a week or two off work was a small price to pay when it came to the tranquility and beauty laid bare before him.

Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, there hadn't been much nature for him to appreciate and admire growing up. But from the moment Jake entered the first small, close-knit fishing town, all he could seem to do was appreciate and stare in outright awe.

The land laid undisturbed all around; the mountains, the trees, the ocean, they had all planted their roots, dug in their heels, and refused to surrender. Cities had been conquered, the vast expansion of country fields and towering summits were placed in chains, forced to give themselves to man. But here, on the coast of fishing villages, it seems as if Land and Man came to an agreement, a compromise, an understanding, to live in peace as one.

Roads of all kinds swerved, twisted, curled up and down along the coast, between the trees. Houses of unnaturally charming bright blues, yellows, oranges, and greens sat gracefully against the mountain rocks, climbing up the forest-speckled cliffs. Homes and buildings of sea-weathered colour rested on the broken shoreline. Boats bobbed in the water, their docks reaching out towards the horizon like fingers longing to reach and touch a disappearing lover.

In the coastal towns, driving along the sunset stained ocean, Jake swore he would never see true beauty again.

Even now, when the sky wept tears of sorrow, its beauty never vanished.

The weather came on suddenly, as he passed the welcoming sign for Higdon's Harbour. The roads became slick, a ghostly fog settled in, and the colours were muted a few shades darker by the clouds above. Rivers trickled down the mountain side, disappearing into shallow ditches. Waves started to leap and jump to catch the increasing wind. All while the sky cried on and on.

Jake drove on through the town. Classic rock thumped softly in the background and raindrops tapped on the roof of the car. He had planned not to stop for the night until the next town over. He had driven through several rain storms since the start of his trip, and this was nothing.

But the cracks in the sky's broken heart continued to grow with exceptional pain. Tears of despair quickly turned to tears of anger. The beating on the car became more aggressive as the wind wailed daunting threats and the ocean frantically waved its arms.

It became too much, too quick. Jake was used to driving through bad weather, but not seaside storms. Not gusting winds and sideways rain. Plus, he decided, he was already making good time. So when the flashing green neon sign reading Beaumont Motel came into view, he didn’t hesitate to pull off the road, into the parking lot, and turn off his car.

A bell jingled above as Jake pushed open the door. He stepped into the warmth of the lobby, drenched through his clothes and soaking the carpet under his feet.

“Turned nasty out there real quick, didn’t it?”

Jake threw off his hood, shaking out his damp, blonde hair as he caught sight of an older woman with long grey hair smiling at him from behind a wooden desk.

She pulled her beige cardigan closer around her, brown eyes crinkling in the corners. “Looking for a room, hun?”

“If you happen to have one available,” Jake replied, walking towards the desk and setting down his backpack. Judging by the lack of cars in the parking lot, he was more than confident there were plenty of empty rooms. Still, he glanced at the woman’s name tag and flashed her a smile. “Vera.”

“Oh, hun,” Vera chuckled. Her fingers tapped away on the computer that looked too new to be in the small, tacky, lobby with flower-patterned wallpaper. A lobby that was decorated with simply a small sitting area off to the side, a dusty fireplace warming the room, a dark wooden desk, rouge carpet, and outdated lighting fixtures. “I think I have one or two available. For how long will we be seeing your handsome face around?”

“Only a night,” Jake said. “I’m just passing through.”

“Storm pushed you off the road, huh?” Vera turned around and grabbed a key off one of the hooks on the wall. “It should only last the night. Nightly storms are common for us during this time of year. Here you go, hun.”

“Thank you!” Jake took the key before picking up his bag once more, throwing it over his shoulder.

“If you’re looking to warm up a bit, Kay & Elle, the pub next door, is open for a few more hours,” Vera informed him, fixing her wool cardigan on her shoulders. “A lot of the locals inhabit the place, but we’re friendly folks here. I’m sure they’ll keep you entertained for a bit.”

“Thank you for the suggestion!” Jake pulled his hood back over his head. “Have a good night, Vera.”

She waved him off with a dazzling smile. “Enjoy your short time at Higdon’s Harbour.”

Rain beat down around Jake as the lobby door closed behind him. The sticky air promised an onslaught of thunder and lightning, but it had yet to develop. With a glance at the metal key in his hand, Jake made out a marked 9 engraved at the top. His toes were cold as he quickly made it to the door and inserted the key before pushing the door open and stepping into the musty smelling room.

It was just as drab as the lobby. The double-bed was dressed in off-white coverings. Cream walls, dark carpet, and tacky seaside pictures. Along with two side tables by the bed, a small TV on top of a mini fridge, and a bathroom door on the far wall.

It wasn’t the nicest looking room he’d ever stayed in, but he would also be lying if he said he hadn’t stayed in worse before.

With a tired and uncomfortable sigh, Jake tossed his bag onto the bed, peeled off his wet coat, and padded off into the bathroom.

He never really thought of going to the pub Vera had mentioned. His only plans that evening consisted of taking a scalding shower before crawling into bed. Maybe watching some TV or reading the book at the bottom of his bag to spice up the night.

Yet, once the two former items on his agenda were checked off, an uneasiness fell over him. Neither the TV nor his book could hold his attention. The bedsheets itched his legs. His heart thumped in his chest, just fast enough to be noticeable. He couldn’t sit still.

Lightning flashed outside and Jake’s head whipped in the direction of the window. The pub came into view; the two porch lights twinkled in the dark and laughter sounded in time to the pounding storm. It shimmered in the lightning’s afterglow, the rain creating a silver mist of magic around the stone building.

Jake tossed off the sheets and threw on some clothes and his damp jacket. The pull in the pit of his stomach pushed him towards the front door without Jake even really realizing what he was doing. But he chalked it up to boredom and the anxiety of being knocked off his schedule.

He left the warmth of his room behind, almost crashing into a figure as he gently closed his door. An apology was on the tip of his tip tongue when a feeling of nausea washed over him. He felt dizzy, stomach turning. But it was gone between one blink and the next, along with the person. Jake got a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye followed by bells and laughter as the door to room 8 snapped closed.

The thunderous weather started to overload Jake's senses and the urge to get to the pub was greater. With his head down, the figure fading from his memory, Jake made his way across the parking lot.

A drink or two would kill some time, he thought to himself. At least it would help settle the uneasiness and put him to sleep.

The mist around the pub seemed to glow as Jake drew closer, but he was too busy keeping the rain out of his eyes to pay much mind to it. Warmth shot up his arm as he pushed the door open, a jingle filling the room.

The smell of liquor and smoke tainted with the slight scent of sweat greeted Jake as he stepped over the threshold of Kay & Elle. The low rumble of a banjo filled the space, bouncing off the wooden rafters, mixing with the low mumbles and chuckles of the clusters of people scattered around the room. It wasn’t a full house, but crowded enough given the storm outside.

With his footsteps sounding off the wood floors, Jake made his way to the dark-oak bar. He received a few stares and nods of acknowledgment as he walked by men and women alike, sitting at tables and standing by pool tables. As he walked past, he took in the stone walls, the empty stage in the back, the shimmering yellow lights, and the photos of fishermen, smiling ladies, and vast landscapes littered throughout the walls.

He took off his jacket, his heart having settled from the moment he entered the pub. Jake wasn’t a man who believed in faith, but in his bones, deep in his marrow, he knew this was where he was meant to be, for whatever reason.

“Well ain’t you a fresh face,” the elder man behind the bar remarked as Jake sat in one of the barstools, just a few seats down from a hunched over figure nursing a glass of whiskey.

Jake placed his wet jaket on the chair beside him as he chuckled. “Hard to be a stranger in this town.”

“Small-town life, my boy. Everyone knows everyone.” The man threw a towel over his shoulder, his dark hair pulled back in a low pony-tail, causing the wrinkles on his slim, tan face to be on full display. His green eyes sparkled in welcome and his smile pulled at the faded scar on his left cheek. “Passing through?”

The dim lights jumped and danced off the many bottles lining the wall behind the bar. A muted glow hugged the bar, the music changing to the beat of a fiddle.

“I am, but the storm took me off the road for the night,” Jake explained.

“You staying at the Beaumont?”

Jake nodded. “The woman, Vera, recommended I stop by for a drink.”

The words tasted bitter, full of half-truths and false tales. But Jake wasn’t sure why, just as he wasn’t sure how to explain his need to be sitting in the pub at that particular moment.

“That woman,” the elder man chuckled with a shake of his head. “She sends more business this way than any billboard ad ever could. Well, have a drink while you’re here…"

“Jake.”

The music skipped a beat as the fiddle played a harsh note. The air turned bitter and cold. Jake’s limbs urged him to run, screamed that he made a mistake, scolded him for giving his name so willingly. But it was a reflex; the word leaving his lips before he understood what was happening. An impulse came over him, the same one that pulled him to obey the man's demand and order a drink.

No one seemed to notice the odd behaviour, aside from the hunched over figure a few seats down. His depthless brown eyes flashed to Jake, grey hair falling across his pale, sweaty forehead. There was a look of pain and madness in those eyes. Jake opened his mouth to say something when a draft of beer appeared in front of him. And suddenly he couldn’t remember why his limbs felt tense or why there was a cold sweat on the back on his neck.

“Nice to meet ya, Jake,” the bartender smiled with a gleam in his bottle-green eyes. “Name’s Murphy.”

“Likewise,” Jake raised his drink before bringing the glass to his lips, downing half of it in a few gulps.

The hunched man tipped back the last of his whiskey, slamming the glass hard on the bartop.

“Murphy,” he spoke in a husky voice, like the sound of asphalt and gravel.

A flash of irritation, with just a hint of sadness, came over Murphy's face. He didn’t say a word as he quickly prepared another glass, sliding it gently in front of the stranger.

“Take it easy, Harold. That’s your third now.”

Harold grunted, shooting back half the glass without a word.

Murphy sighed, every other emotion but worry washing from his face for the smallest moment, before he turned back to Jake with a smile on his lips.

“So, where were you headed before the rain knocked you off track?”

After another smaller sip of beer, Jake explained his mountain travel plans and his desire to reach the great peak that waited for him at the end.

“Good on ya. Do it all now while you’re still young and can move about,” Murphy said with a chuckle. “This a solo trip? Or are you with someone special? Perhaps they’re waiting for you back in your room?”

“No,” Jake chuckled, ignoring the grunt of clear annoyance from the man a few seats down from him. “Just me.”

A glimmer appeared in the old man's eye. “So no one speical then? No sweetheart waiting for ya?”

Glass rattled as Harold slammed his empty drink back down on the bar.

Jake cast a sideways glance at the stranger. Restlessness rushed through him as he slowly sat up straighter. Tension gripped his limbs as Harold turned to look at him. Those unnaturally dark eyes shined with intensity. They held so much knowledge, so much pain, so much fury that Jake couldn’t look away.

“Don’t waste your time with such things, boy,” Harold grumbled, voice rough and firm. His brows were pulled together so tight they were touching, as the bar cast his face in shadows of back and grey. “Love is pointless.”

He said the word love with such hatred, Jake felt as if the stone structure surrounding them would cave in and collapse.

Murphy, for his part, looked just as on edge. It was a fact that did little to calm Jake's sudden nervousness.

“Harold,” he sighed. “Let’s take a moment-”

“There is one thing that is certain when it comes to love,” Harold continued, eyes gazing unblinkingly at Jake. “It is nothing but pain. Love is made up of pain and heartbreak and bitter ends. It is a useless and pointless part of the whole damn human existence.”

A hush fell over the bar, as if even the other guests could sense the mood Harold had brought about. The upbeat tone of the fiddle suddenly switched to a soulless wail. . A shiver ran up Jake’s spine and he begged his body to turn away, to dismiss the man and be done with it. But he couldn’t. His unmerciful gaze pulled him in and suddenly Jake was drowning in the scent of liquor and smoke and dead leaves and depthless seas.

“You fight so hard." Harold gripped his glass, and a crack started to appear. “You fight with all you have and give yourself completely and it's no good. It doesn’t matter. Nothing you do is good enough. Love is about fighting a losing battle and in the end, only one person suffers the consequences. And it's usually the one who fought the hardest.”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was firm, loud, booming over the music as Jake jumped back in his seat. He didn’t realize how intently he’d been listening to Harold. How he was hanging on to every word like it was air. Or how, while talking to the terrifying man, for the first time since entering the town, Higdon’s Harbour glowed with colour.

An angry, remorseless, pulsating red colour.

Harold held Jake's gaze for a moment longer, intense eyes cast in complete shadow, before turning back to the bar.

“Thanks for the advice,” Jake found himself saying, voice shaking more than he'd like to admit. He didn’t mean to speak, the words simply rushed out of him with an aftertaste of smoke.

Clearing his throat, Jake downed the last of his beer before pushing the glass towards Murphy for a refill.

A hush fell around them for just a few moments, the tension already starting to subside. Jake felt his shoulders drop as he slowly sipped his beer and Murphy slid Harold a glass of water. After some small talk with the old bartender, Jake felt himself able to breathe once more. His body started to relax, the fog lifting from his head. He was breaking the surface and forgetting all about the darkness of the ocean and the murdered limbs of the trees on the forest floor.

While on his third drink, Murphy started to get busy with the other parties of the bar. Tables started to ask for refills, and drenched couples walked through the door, the wind roaring behind them. He drifted more and more between the bar and the tables. And it was about that time that Jake decided he would soon be calling it a night.

“You shouldn’t have stopped, boy.”

Ice crawled up Jake’s spine at the sound of that sandpaper voice. Murphy was off to some seemingly remote corner of the bar. Jake couldn’t help but notice that every new body who walked in stayed far away from the bar, from him, and from Harold.

Jake gripped the tall draft in his hand, foam and condensation running through his numb fingers.

He turned to face Harold, those black soulless eyes dragging him into the abyss. He was in a freefall, too much rushed through him all at once. A thumping started at his left temple and his heart dropped to his stomach as he fell and fell and fell from the bowels of the sky through the open arms of the corpse-like trees.

“You shouldn’t have stopped,” Harold spat, teeth clenched and head hung low. “You should get out of this cursed town before they get you too. They know you’re here. They knew you’d be here before you knew you’d be here. They got to the rest of this damned town. They got her. Get out before they get you too, boy.”

Fear rooted Jake in place. Fear for what, he couldn’t tell. But in the back of his mind, in the depth of his soul, he knew Harold was right. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have stopped. Yet, the thought of leaving caused his heart to clench and spots to form behind his eyes. Without his control, he found his lips forming the words -

“Who are they?”

The lights flickered with the time of the thunder clashing outside. The fiddle faded out and the haunting strings of a violin floated through the room, accompanied by a soulful woman's wail.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t provoke this man. He should just pay his tab, get up, and leave. But it was unexplainable, much like the whole night had been. He simply couldn’t help himself.

Harold completely turned to Jake. The harsh lines on his face caught the glow of the dim lights. His eyes burned with unattainable wisdom and passion. Jake's heart started to race, limbs locking into place as he noticed the music slowed. Along with, somehow, every other body and soul in the bar. A haze filled the room, a mist blurring and engulfing everything that was not Jake and was not Harold. Even the storm seemed to hush, with only the woman's cry continuing on.

“Let me tell you a story, son.” Harold’s voice turned mystical, the words floating in the air between the two. “Cause I’ve lost my friends, my family, this whole damn town, and yet no one will believe me. They think I’m a nut-case, a man full of grief. But I ain’t, you hear? And maybe you’ll believe me. Maybe you won’t. But they took my wife-”

“Your wife is missing?”

Jake’s pulse jumped as Harold leaned in close, his blood-shot eyes burning crimson red. “For years now. Cause they took her.”

“They?” Jake repeated, feeling physically ill.

Harold nodded. “The fairies.”

He should have laughed. He should have backed off. His mind should have been yelling at him that the man was senile, crazy, insane. He should have bid him goodbye, called over Murphy, and been done with this place, this man. This man who was staring at him with all the earnestness in the world.

Fairies.

The word danced around in his head, bells and whistles suddenly joining in with the escalating violin. Suddenly, the whole town made all the sense in the world and yet, none at all.

“Fairies?” Jake spoke slow and steady. “They’re just folklore. A myth.”

Even as he said it, the words turned to dust on his tongue. He wanted to wash the taste out with his beer, but found he genuinely couldn’t move.

“The Harbour Fairies,” Harold whispered. “Nasty creatures. And if you believe they’re just a myth, you’re as foolish as the rest of them. If you believe there isn’t more to this world, that we’re the only beings here, you’re blin. These aren’t just some little buggers who pick your berries and sprinkle dust. They are savage, mischievous demons.”

Jake started to shake his head, mostly to clear the fog that had started to form. “I don’t-”

“We here grew up wearing our clothes inside out and carrying bread in our pockets to stop the little people from leading us astray,” Harold spoke with more urgency than Jake had heard all night, “But little good it did. Everyone was blinded by what was right in front of them. These creatures play tricks. Oh, they love tricks. And not the fun kind. No, the kind that leads you over a cliff or dead at the bottom of the sea. They are unpredictable forces of nature who lead you in the woods, and suddenly you're never heard of again.”

“And they got your wife.”

“They stole her,” Harold spat the words into the air. His gaze flicked towards the red-head who walked past them, beer in hand, before he spoke again. “They took her from me. Everyone here believes she ran away, but I know. I caught them you see, I saw it with my own two eyes. One day she was in the garden, the next…”

… she walked into the woods, never to be seen again. Jake knew because he saw it himself. He watched it play out in Harold’s aged eyes. And suddenly he was inserted into a story that was not his. He didn’t feel right; too tight in his skin, eyes unable to properly focus on the greys, blacks, and whites of the world. But he still watched.

A grass-stained seven year old boy cradled the arm of a pretty girl with messy blonde hair. They sat in a treehouse, feet dangling over the edge, kicking at the clouds. The girl had tear-tracks running down her cheeks and dead flowers stuck in her hair. She was biting her lip, nodding as the boy spoke.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” he whispered sternly.

“I didn’t mean to,” her lips trembled, gaze moving to anything but the boy before her. “It wasn’t my fault.”

The boy shook his head as he ran his hand over the forming bruise. “You gotta be more careful Cathy. What if something were to happen to ya?”

“Then let's get out of this town, Harry,” a seventeen-year old girl twirled in the headlights of an old pick-up truck. The waves crashed against the shore in the distance, the sun tenderly kissing the horizon goodbye. The girl’s blonde, messy braids whipped around her shoulder, dress bunched at her ankles. She stood before a brown haired boy, grass-stains on his jeans, leaning against the red truck. “Let’s pack up and leave after graduation next week.”

“And go where, Cathy?” The boy shook his head. “I have a job lined up on the boat and you have-”

“Nothing! I have nothing!” She threw her hands in the air. “I ain’t got nothing lined up. Just my next shift at the diner. I want to go to school, you know I do. But papa-”

“Don’t worry about your father,” the boy grabbed at the girls skirts, pulling her so close their hips touched. “I told you, I’ll protect you from your papa.”

The girl bit her lips, forest green eyes glancing over the boy's shoulder. Her face was tender but the look of caution never left. As if she wanted to believe the boy holding her but her heart refused to pay heed. “Promise?”

“I do.”

Applause thundered across the crowd, the waves beating against the rocky cliffs. The man lifted the woman's veil, tucking a piece of messy blonde hair behind her ear before gripping the back of her neck. He leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. Whistles and wails filled the air, a screaming violin starting to play as the newly-weds walked down the aisle.

She held on her husband’s arm like a life-line, biting her lip as her father clapped the bride-groom on the shoulder. Her eyes darted around the crowd, the same look of caution from five years ago still masked her face.

It was a look that never left her face, a look that was forever present in the back on her eyes. It was the only thought Jake found he was able to form; the look of a woman who was scared. The look of a woman who was holding a secret.

And maybe she was, for that look stayed with her for all the years to come, Jake noticed. He watched Harold's and Catherine’s life play out before him, just as Harold described. The twenty plus years together. The moments of tender love, the moments of bitter fights. The squealing laughter and howling sobs. The funerals and the weddings, The slamming bottles and doors leading to nights together and alone. It wasn’t the best marriage, but what marriage is, Harold said.

They never had kids, their life centred around just the two of them, their fading love and the growing tension. Every second leading up to that moment, in a garden of muted yellows, reds, and oranges.

Flowers in her messy hair, a near fifty year old Catherine knelt before a bed of dirt. Sunglasses covered her eyes, dirt stained her knees, finger nails, and cheeks. She was silent as she worked.

A door slammed in the distance. “Catherine!”

The tension became electricity in the air. Catherine’s head snapped up as footsteps made their way to the backyard.

Jake noticed it at the exact moment she did. The wind switched directions, bells jingled off the tree tops, mystical laughter floated out from the forest on the other side of the garden.

Catherine turned slowly. The flower fell out of her hair. She tossed the sunglasses onto the ground and her bruised, deep green eyes glowed against the muted world. She walked towards the tree line, footfalls light. Laughter bubbled past her own lips and, between one step and the next, she was gone.

“... the forest swallowed her up and I knew they got to her.”

Jack was back in the bar. Everything rested as it had, and he himself wasn’t even sure if what he had just witnessed was real. Surely not, but the description and details felt real, tangible. As if, for a moment, he truly stood in Harold's memories.

“The forest was the only way out,” Harold’s eyes were wide, urgent, and the brightest things in the whole bar. “It was either through the house or the forest. And she’d been acting out for years. Always in the garden, out on her own. They got her, it's the only answer. But,” a pause, eyes shifting. “I know where she is.”

Jake swallowed, throat dry as sandpaper. “You do?”

“An island just a few miles out in sea. A rocky cliff, that's where they stay,” Harold nodded, talking more to himself than Jake. “She's there, with them. I’m taking my boat out tomorrow morning. I’m going to get her and-”

“Harold.”

Murphy’s voice was enough to make Jake jump back. He never noticed how close he had been leaning towards the old man. Just as he never realized how tightly he was holding his warm, untouched third glass of beer. He pulled his hand back, wiping it on his jeans as the pulsing in his left temple grew stronger.

As he looked around the pub, Jake took in all the faces looking his way. Eyes bounced between him and Harold, whispers and murmurs accompanying the flute and violin pair. It was only when Murphy loudly, purposely, cleared his throat that the inhabitants of the bar started to look as if they weren’t listening.

“Harold,” Murphy spoke softly, placing a hand on Harold’s tense shoulder. “I think it's time to head home, friend.”

There was a fight in Harold’s eyes, Jake could see it. That bloodshot, haunting, soulless gaze held a fire and life to them, ignited by the hatred for creatures that couldn’t exist. But the moment Murphy spoke, the moment Harold looked around the pub and saw all the eyes on him, the fire vashined. It was as quick as releasing a breath, there one minute and gone the next.

Harold held Jake’s gaze. There was still so much left unsaid, unanswered, and Jake found he didn’t want him to go. His mind and soul craved to know more about fairies and their secret world.

A laughter echoed off the rafters, and Jake realized for the first time that night how terrified and exposed he truly was.

“Tomorrow morning,” Harold grunted as he stood, the invitation loud and clear. Jake didn’t understand why Harold was inviting him along but it somehow made all the sense in the world.

With no other parting words, with not so much as a glance at any other living soul in the pub, Harold walked out. Back hunched as he disappeared over the threshold, rain and wind howling as they swallowed him whole.

A hush carried on throughout the pub for a few heartbeats. Until the flute faded back into the plucking of a guitar. Someone cheered, laughter followed, and soon the lively atmosphere of the bar was back once more. As if the haunted man with an implausible story wasn’t present a few moments before.

“Is it true?” Jake found himself asking, tongue sliding across his chapped lips. He turned in his chair, facing Murphy, who now stood behind the bar. He hoped his shaking hand wasn't noticeable as he raised his beer to his lips. “About those… about the fairies.”

The word tasted like strawberries and metal on his lips.

Murphy glanced up for the glass he was cleaning, scar strained across his cheek as he pursed his lips. “They’re urban folktales. Myths passed down through all the generations of the Harbour.”

“And his wife?”

Murphy paused. He let out a sign, placed the glass under the bar before turning to Jake. Worry and concern shinned in his eyes.

“She left him,” he explained softly, mindful of the ears around. “Packed up and left, just like that.”

“Just like that?” Jake raised an eyebrow at Murphy’s hesitation.

“There were… rumours about cheating and drunken fights but…” Murphy took a breath, crossing his arms on the bartop as he leaned in close. “Look, Harry's a good guy, difficult but good. Our families know each other well. And Cathy… well she had a hard life with her father. She wasn’t all there before she left and Harold took it hard. He still won't get help and has himself convinced the Harbour Fairies are behind it. Says he’s seen things with his own eyes that explains it.”

Jake swallowed, leg bouncing restlessly. “He’s going out tomorrow morning-”

“Yeah,” Murphy nodded solemnly. “We’ve tried to stop him, talk sense. But he won’t listen. And he’s at the age and point now where we've given up - what can ya do.”

A lot. Jake glanced around the pub, taking in the numerous people laughing, chatting, drinking. He didn’t know these people, he shouldn’t judge, but they could be doing something to help that man. He may be talking crazy but… was he?

The more Jake studied the bar, the more it felt like a fog was lifting. The pieces were falling into place. The math was suddenly starting to make sense. And Jake refused to acknowledge the answers that were before him.

“Where is she then?” Jake asked, breathing through his nose to calm his racing heart. “His wife. Catherine.”

“No one knows,” Murphy admitted. “She got out of this town, that's for sure. And no one has heard from her since.”

“No one checks in?” Jake couldn’t hide the disbelief from his voice. “No one’s tried to find out where she is or what happened.”

Murphy watched Jake for an uncomfortable moment. His eyes looked him over, mouth twisting as if to say something. But then his lips shut, he blinked, and he shrugged before pointing to the still full glass in front of Jake. “You want another?”

Jake's breath caught in his throat. Claws bit into his spine. His skin felt too tight as a breeze brushed the back of his neck, red flashing in his vision. The room was too small and too big all at once. He didn’t know why he was feeling such a way or what had brought it on. But his gut knew it was because of this town.

And he knew he wanted to get out.

The door to the pub shut as a couple walked out, but the noise still rattled against Jake’s bones as he shook his head.

“No,” he stood up, hand shaking as he pulled out some bills and tossed them on the bar. “I think I’ll call it a night actually.”

Murphy picked up the money, either not noticing the odd behaviour or choosing to ignore it as he smiled. “Well, Mr. Jake, I hope you enjoy the rest of your short stay. Maybe someday we’ll get to see you passing through the Harbour again.”

“Who knows,” Jake gave a nervous chuckle, “It seems anything is possible.”

He left the pub in shambles. The smell of ashes and fowl fish followed Jake as he made his way to the door. Tables were knocked off centre, chairs were tipped over. The banjo played too loud and slightly off key. Men and women alike stumbled over one another, drinks spilled onto the floor. Even Murphy’s slicked back pony was a mess, falling into his dark, sweat covered face.

The illusion was breaking, the corners being pulled back to show something ugly and monstrous. Something those who inhabited Higdon’s Harbour refused to acknowledge.

Jake stepped over the threshold, blood pounding through his veins. He welcomed the rain beating down on his face, the wind biting through his damp jacket and nipping at his icy skin. The door to Kay & Elle closed with a thunderous bang. The banjo and hysterical laughter was replaced by sorrowful wind and wailing rain.

He stood there for a moment, face turned towards the sky as he tried to will air into his lungs.

He needed to get out of this town.

Whatever force pulled Jake towards the pub earlier was controlled by a demon. He didn’t know what purpose it served him, to hear about Harold and the fairies… fairies that shouldn’t, didn’t, couldn’t exist…

Someone squealed and giggled across the parking lot. With a jump, heart in his throat, Jake started to make his way back to the safety of his room.

And he was almost there, just a mere few steps away, when his body suddenly felt as if it were stretched too thin. Nausea overcame him and his head spun. The rain pierced his skin like devilish needles and the wind sang a woman's lullaby in his ear. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, thunder crashing as someone bumped into his shoulder.

It was an innocent tap, the woman clearly too captivated by the lady on her arm to notice him. But it did all the damage in the world.

“Oh!” She gasped, the sound like a thousand bells. She grabbed his arm, full-lips pulled back in an apologetic smile as all the air vanished from Jake's chest. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't breath, the pulsing in his left temple was suddenly magnified by ten. The warmth of her hand on his arm spread through his whole body. He no longer felt the wind and rain beating against him, he was too allured by her auburn curls, high-cheekbones, and hazel eyes that glistened like moss coated in morning dew.

She was the most hauntingly beautiful creature he had ever beheld. And every part of his being begged him to run.

“Are you okay, Jake?” Her partner spoke up. They were holding one another so close, arms locked tight, it was as if they were one. Gravity pulled them together; where one moved the other followed. A simple stranger such as himself could not doubt their adoration and love.

Jake ripped his gaze away from the red-headed woman and looked at her partner. He took in her slim face, the dirty dress, and messy blonde hair pinned back with a flower.

It was then that Jake noticed that both women were completely dry.

It was then that Jake realized they knew his name.

It was then that his eyes met the blonde’s green ones, and he saw it all.

“I told you not to make your papa mad,” a seven year old boy with grass stains on his knees told the six year old girl with a bruised arm.

“I didn’t mean to,” she trembled, and Jake realized she wasn’t avoiding the boys gaze. She was looking at someone else. She was looking at the young auburn haired creature standing a few feet away, invisible to the boy and eyes tense with worry. “It wasn't my fault.”

Be more careful, the boy told her at the exact moment the creature met the girl's gaze and said, I know. I’ll protect you.

“I told you,” said a seventeen year old boy as he gripped a sixteenth year old's skirts. “I’ll protect you from your papa.”

You know he can’t, Cathy, The auburn creature said, standing over the boy's shoulder as she held the girl’s green-eyed gaze. I’ll protect you from them both.

The blonde trembled. “Promise?”

With all the power of the forest and the sea. I promise.

She was there, always there. She did all she could to keep her promise. But it seemed even she was limited in her abilities.

Jake watched Harold and Catherine's life play out once more. As the twenty plus years faded together, the moments of tender love vanished. The fights were more frequent, more aggressive than Harold let on. He stumbled home in the dark more than once, eyes bloodshot and words slurred. There were many years of fights and screams. Fists were thrown and bones were broken. And the red-head was there through it all, helping as best as she could. She cared for Cathy, tried to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.

Run away with me, Cathy. It's the only way.

And run she did.

It wasn’t a laugh that called Catherine to the forest that day in the garden as Harold’s raging voice bellowed off the walls of the house. No, it was not a laugh at all, but her name, spoken in bells and chimes, love and warmth.

Catherine stepped over the threshold of the forest, laughter on her lips, as she jumped into the arms of the beautiful red-headed fairy.

She didn’t leave, wasn’t taken. She willingly left her delusional old life for one of magic and wonder and respect.

Jake stumbled back a step, shaking off the hand of the creature before him. His head was spinning, his stomach turned and his vision blurred as he truly saw the two ladies before him. As he noticed the glow around them, the electricity that danced in their wake.

This town, these people… how could anyone let a woman suffer as Catherine did and not do anything? How could they not see what was right in front of them?

And these creatures, the fairies, Harold painted them as the demons and yet, this fairy was Catherine’s saving grace, her lover, her protector...

They shared a look, the two lovers, before turning back to him. They didn’t say another word as the fairy smiled at Jake, white teeth flashing, and blew him a kiss. They turned to leave, Catherine giving him a wink over her shoulder, before disappearing into their hotel room. Right next door to his.

Jake stumbled as fast as he could to his room, slamming the door behind him as he tried to catch his breath and will his mind to understand what the hell was going on.

It took him a few moments to realize, for the first time all night, he was completely dry.

----------

Light had yet to transform the morning sky when Jake sped out of the Beaumont Motel parking lot. The rain had stopped and the winds were whisked away. Grey clouds lingered in the sky, suffocating the rising sun on the horizon.

What was once a piece of art to Jake was now the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

The mountain reached its claws to the sky, holding all the trees and buildings in the palm of its hand. The roads swerved in and out of its fingers, weather-worn homes running up the forest-speckled hills, trying to escape. The ocean leaped for joy as it played with the rocky cliffs, trying to capture and destroy anything it could reach. The boats bobbed in the water, begging to be let free, while the docks pointed their fingers to the open sea, luring in any desperate and lonely souls to the corrupt town.

The ocean was painted an angry blue against the grey light. The white-capped waves pounded against anything in their way. What Jake once thought was a place of harmony, he realized now, was an illusion.

The image had been shattered, broken beyond repair.

The land had won after all, he realized now. It had conquered Higdon’s Harbour and all within it. There was no agreement, no compromise to live in peace. For nothing could truly defeat nature.

The land cackled against the last remains of the raging storm winds. For it knew the game it was playing; it knew who truly ruled the town. And it was not man.

Jake made it out before the first kitchen light flickered on. Before the inhabitants of Higdon’s Harbour woke and started about their delusional lives. His heart pounded in his chest the whole way, hands shaking as they gripped his steering wheel. Even when he passed the city line, his body refused to relax. Not as the sound of chimes echoed on and on and on in his head.

By the time Jake remembered Harold, he was long gone. And he was too far out to turn back. Too far out to hear the news, or see the headline of the Higdon’s Harbour newspaper that morning. And to hear the otherworldly laugh that accompanied it.

Man Crashes Boat Off Rocky Cliffs In Desperate Search Of His Wife.

#oringinal character #original writing #original story #fairies #tog #acotar #fanfiction #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cas writing #personal

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evolutionsvoid · 3 years

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Before I had even started this trip, I already had the worry of getting lost. Driving for hours on end through places I had never even heard of, it seemed inevitable. Despite that, I had no other choice but to go. What life I had here was gone, and staying would only have me stewing in the rotten memories and people that plagued me. Though this opportunity was a weak one, it was my only shot out of here. So I packed up my meager things and drove off into the unknown. Best to take my chances out there, then remain in this prison a minute longer. My anxiety born from this journey drove me to prepare for every possible scenario. The biggest worry was getting lost on the way there, but with a mountain of maps, a GPS and a folder of addresses, numbers and contacts, I figured I would be safe. After all, once you get into the barren countryside of flat fields and endless dirt, all you had to do was pick a road in the right direction and drive. I needed to go west, so that was what I did. I drove on for hours, but it felt like I had hardly moved. What a strange feeling it was, to travel hundreds of miles and see absolutely nothing. This trip was supposed to be a transformation, a needed change for me to finally regain control of my life. Yet, I felt no joy or wonder. I guess I was expecting to encounter breathtaking landmarks and travel through strange new places, evidence that the world was bigger than my ignorant little hometown. Instead, I drove through a flattened world of grass, corn, dirt and the occasional pathetic tree. Not exactly the scenery that inspires awe. This repetitive land was probably the reason why things turned out this way, as it was impossible to get a bearing when everything looked the same. Hours had passed since I turned onto that empty road, and yet I failed to notice that things were not right. I ignored the fact that I hadn't seen a single street sign the entire time, or that there were no forks or splits to be found. To be fair, it was long into the night, so most of the blank landscape was smothered by the darkness. I just held onto the idea that I was almost to the next town, if you could all any of these places that. What little civilization I had seen was a sad collection of wore down store fronts, crumbling bars and ancient gas stations. They sat in clumps along these forgotten roads, sharing much with the greasy roadkill that was spattered on the asphalt. Pathetic as these places were, I still yearned for them as I drove down that endless road. Surely one had to be nearby, I just needed to go a few more miles. I followed this delusion for quite some time, pretending that the lack of signs or markers wasn't something to be concerned about. Eventually, I just had to give up. With the clock on my dash showing some obscenely late time, I knew I needed to pull over to collect my thoughts. Looking over my supplies, I found my GPS worthless and the maps just as useless. With no service or any indicators that could help me pinpoint my position, these intricate foldouts might has well have been blank. It was then that I realized that I wasn't lost, as it felt like it was something far worse. When one is stranded in a place they don't know, one of the biggest issues is the overwhelming amount of options. Be it the woods or some unknown city, you are faced with many directions and choices, but you have no clue where any of them lead. Do I go north or south? Do I take the parkway or the back roads? Which exit on the roundabout gets me going the right way? With all this, it is obvious why clueless people wind up going in circles. That was what I considered being "lost" was. This, was something quite different. I didn't have a ludicrous amount of options, rather, I only had two. Go forward or back. The problem was that both choices felt wrong. The path forward had no hope or potential, no signs that suggested anything was to be found up ahead. That choice led to an unknown future, but it seemed more enticing than turning back. Though I didn't know what lay ahead, I did know what was behind me: absolutely nothing. Turning around would mean driving a countless amount of hours until found out where civilization had stopped, but I had no clue where or when that was. I would just be retracing my steps through a known wasteland, losing both time and gas. In the end, the unknown path ahead seemed more comforting. Surely I was bound to run into something eventually, even if it was a rusty road sign or some hermit's shack. Though my mind was made up, I chose not to continue just yet. I was drained of all energy, and I knew it was a poor choice to drive in such condition. It was the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, so what harm was there to grabbing a quick nap? Perhaps sleeping until the sun returned was a good choice. Daylight could reveal clues about my whereabouts, ones that were currently blotted out by the dark. A rested mind would also work way better, and it would probably solve this problem in a second. So I made sure my car was properly off the road before I turned it off. I locked the doors and leaned my seat back as far as I could. It wasn't long after I closed my eyes that my exhausted body finally received some reprieve. I awoke awkwardly, as if some unremembered dream or nightmare had snapped me from my slumber. It was still night, though I didn't know how much time had passed. I looked at my phone, but my groggy mind couldn't interpret the numbers it showed. I tried to stretch my limbs in the cramped space, but it gave very little relief. My drowsy state made me think that I had only dozed off for a few minutes, as I sure didn't feel any better. Perhaps this cluttered, stuffy car wasn't the best place to get some beauty rest. I figured I would try to go back to sleep, as my options at the moment seemed just as bad as before. As I wriggled around in an attempt to get comfortable, my eyes looked out into the night and saw it. It was funny how strange it seemed at that moment, though I knew fully well what it was. The slow flash of a yellow light, a sight I was quite familiar with, but my tired brain struggled to understand it. I leaned forward for a better look, but it didn't help in the slightest. With my car turned off, the world was pitch black, save for the errant star and that pulsing light. It sat way off in the distance, but there was no mistaking what it was. It took me a second to understand that this was a good sign. A human construct like this suggested civilization, and also a cross road. Perhaps up ahead was where I could find some identifying signs or directions to a nearby town. With sluggish joy, I went to turn on my car and pursue this miracle, but then the thought struck me from out of the blue. How come I didn't see this before? Sure, I was tired and disoriented at the time, but a bright yellow light blinking in a dark void seemed impossible to ignore. I had sat in this spot for a good while before I had decided to get some rest, so how come I didn't see it then? As I struggled to properly answer this question, I looked to the light and noticed something odd. Looking at it now, after a few minutes of gathering myself, it seemed to be bigger. It flashed brighter and larger than before, but perhaps it was just my imagination. I sat there for a moment and soon confirmed that this was no illusion. The light seemed to be getting closer to me. I looked to my dashboard, thinking I had accidentally put the car in neutral and I was slowly rolling forward. The little arrow pointed firmly on the P, so that couldn't be the answer. When I looked back up, the light was nearly blinding. It also seemed to bob and sway about, as if blown about by a weak breeze. The realization that it was the one moving froze me in my seat. I had no clue what it was or what was happening, so panic took over and short-circuited my body. A turned into a statue in the front seat and only stared with wide, terrified eyes. I did nothing but watch as the light bobbed closer, until it was at last upon me. At first I believed it to be heading right towards me, but in those few horrified moments, I saw it walking upon the very road I had traveled. It strolled down the middle, treading upon the cracked asphalt and faded lines. When the light came perpendicular to the front of me car, I at last could see what it was. I recognized the three colored traffic light that hung over every nearly every road, but the rest of it refused to be understood. I saw a metallic skeleton, built of rebar and steel. It bent and twisted into a bizarre lattice, creating limbs and body from an iron spider's web. It walked upon four legs, and the blinding light hung from a long, arching neck. Something black and wet hung in clumps from its body, creating a sticky cloak over its wiry bones. As I sat frozen in terror, the metallic beast strolled down the road. It walked with slow tired steps, its blinking head hung low. Though it was clearly no creature of flesh, it made me thinking of an exhausted horse, weary from a long day's work. It didn't approach my car, it just kept walking by. It was only when it was passing my driver window that it paused. It stopped in its march and slowly turned its pulsing head towards my vehicle. I could not tell if it was looking at the car or me, but I clearly caught its attention. It gazed at me with a single yellow eye. Above and below sat the green and red, but they remained dark and cracked, like eyes that had long gone blind. It made no move, it just sat there for a moment to watch. After a few seconds, it sadly lifted its legs and continued on its march. The bobbing light continued down that endless road, the blinking growing weaker as it went deeper into the night. I sat there until that yellow light grew small in my mirror, becoming just another star in the darkened sky. I didn't know what to do, or even think about it. Though it showed no aggression, I dared not turn around and pursue it. Instead, I simply turned the car on and pulled back onto the road. I gave up on any thought or reasoning, my mind refused to accept what I had seen. I just got into that dusty old lane and began to drive onwards... -------------------------------------------- “Caution” A design I came up with a way back, which fittingly enough was around the time I went on my roadtrip. I think it came to be through a mashup of traffic signs and weird art sculptures.

#traffic light #monster #creature #art #drawing

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katelyn--renee · 3 years

Text

Composure

Title: Composure

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader/(Y/N) Winchester (mentioned), Harper Winchester (OC, mentioned), Daniel Winchester (OC, mentioned), Crowley (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Words: ±2670

Description: Dean and (Y/N) take their shot at a normal life and settle down. Over the years, they have a few kids. Things are good. Until they’re not. What will Dean do when his past comes back to put an end to his happily ever after?

Written For: @deanwanddamons 2K Celebration! Congratulations babe! That’s awesome! My prompt will be in bold - “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

Warnings: ANGST! Descriptions of blood. Mentions of breaking and entering. Kidnaping. Show level violence/outbursts of anger.

Author’s Note: This is in correlation with another fic of mine, Sweet Cherry Pie. It takes place about twelve to thirteen years after that one, to give you a brief timeline. There will be other fics with that original storyline, so stay tuned.

Thank you so much to @wonder-cole for being my beta for this wonderful piece and helping me with the title. You’re awesome and much appreciated! She has some amazing work of her own, so please do yourself a favor and check it out! Check out @talesmaniac89 for more awesome page dividers!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any photos or gifs, all rights go to original creators/owners.

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

The rain was heavy tonight, thick and angry as it poured from the dark clouds above. The fat raindrops were noisy against the single paned windows. The water coated the glass surface and made it impossible to see through, even as the flashes of lightning lit up the night sky and cast long shadows through the living room of 35 Maplewood Road. There was a heaviness surrounding the house, as if something wicked had been there.

The home was dark and empty, and the furniture was overturned and broken in places; the sofa was thrown over backwards, the cushions laying discarded across the floor with the end table toppled over beside it. The lamp that had occupied its surface was shattered to pieces on the wooden floor, and the rug had been stained with something dark and red.

The coffee table was shoved out of place, the glass surface no longer there in one piece and the mirror that hung in the hallway had a spider web like crack across the surface, hanging now only by one screw. In the very center of the crack, something crimson and shiny caught the lighting from outside, almost as if someone’s skull had been smashed there.

The familiar idling of Baby’s engine grew louder as Dean pulled in the driveway of his home, the brakes squealing as he came to a stop and put the Chevy into park. A feeling of dread began to knot into his stomach, making the muscles of his jaw flex as he tried to bite back the feeling. Something was wrong; all those years of hunting and honing his instincts told him that much. Not a single light was on inside of the home and yet, (Y/N)’s car was parked out front. Not good.

Dean fished his phone from his jacket and swiftly unlocked the screen with a swipe of his thumb across the glass, dialing the number he knew so well. Pressing the receiver to his ear, he waited while the call rang out once... twice… “Come on, (Y/N/N).” He muttered under his breath as the fifth tone sounded. Her voice greeted his ear, but it was artificial; the recording of her voicemail, Hi, you’ve reached (Y/N)...

“Damn it.” He cursed between gritted teeth and ended the call. He tried again, pressing redial. “Come on, baby, answer your damn phone!” He shut his eyes when he got the same results as before, cursing to himself as he shoved the device back into his pocket.

Never taking his eyes off the front of the house, he leaned over for the glove box and swiftly unlatched the compartment door, just as he’d done a million times before. Green eyes continued to scan for any signs of movement, even through the thick wall of rain that coated the windshield, despite the efforts of the wiper blades.

Reaching a steady hand inside, he pulled out a pocket sized flashlight and his beloved stainless steel Colt, the engraving on the barrel catching the lightning as it bolted across the sky. Expertly, he removed the clip with a press of his thumb and double checked the bullets inside before sliding it back into the place, securing it with another click. It’d been years since he’d held the weapon, but the pearl coated handle felt just as natural as breathing against his palm.

Leaving the Impala’s engine running, Dean climbed out from behind the wheel and shut the door, the hinges creaking with age. Clicking on the flashlight, he approached the home with long, yet cautious strides, his booted feet silent in his approach, even through the heavy rain.

His mind was racing with every terrible possibility, his guilt threatening to eat him alive as images of his family, in the worst possible outcome, flashed before his eyes. It made his blood run cold. His heart was pounding rapidly with fear, pushing the adrenaline through his veins and forcing him to move forward rather than let the panic overwhelm him.

He tried to peer inside the living room through the set of windows lining the front of the house, but it did little to ease his uncertainty; if anything, it only made it worse, only able to make out long shadows and dark shapes. His clothes were completely soaked through, hugging his large frame by the time he’d reached the front porch, the coolness of the rain chilling him to the bone. Droplets of water dripped down his face and the tip of his nose, and his hair clung against his forehead.

Approaching the large red door, his scowl only deepened, darkening his features when he discovered that it had been left unlatched, allowing in a single beam of light with each flash from the storm overhead. He glared at the lock and then narrowed his eyes as something caught his attention, the muscles there twitching. Stretching a hand out, he examined the wooden surface, his fingertips grazing over the chipped paint and splintered wood. Someone had broken in.

Taking only a moment to compose himself, Dean exhaled slowly and swallowed back his apprehension, forcing himself to go on. Using the weight of his body, he nudged the door open cautiously and poked his head inside. The experienced hunter kept his gun aimed high and at the ready, his finger hovering over the trigger. Wrist over wrist, Dean held the flashlight steady with the opposite hand, the beam unmoving, providing him with some light through the darkness.

All of those years of training were put to the test as he stepped through the threshold of his home, his expression as hard as stone and giving away absolutely nothing, despite the fear that was boiling just beneath the surface. His eyes darted around the room, following the beam of his flashlight, taking in every detail of his surroundings just as he’d been taught all those years ago.

Following the layout of the house, Dean came to the living room first, stepping over the broken furniture and discarded decorations. The sight of his home in this state made him uneasy and that much harder to keep his cool, able to sense the panic starting to creep in. Where was (Y/N)? Where were the kids? Who had done this to his family? Was it revenge?

Another flash of lightning caused something slick and shiny to catch his eye, and Dean let out a shaky breath. Hesitating for only a moment, he crossed the room and crouched down next to the sofa to investigate, the troubling sight seized his heart. There was a substantial amount of blood there, a large pool of crimson that had soaked into the fibers of the rug.

Near the top of the stain, a gold chain necklace was lost within the mess and a thin layer of another substance was scattered around it. It was almost yellow in color and had a very distinct, very specific scent that accompanied it. Touching the surface of the floor next to the stain, Dean felt something grainy under his finger tips. Lifting it to his nose, the smell of sulfur invaded his senses. Demons.

“Fuck,” He cursed, the boom of the thunder shaking his house as it lit up his face simultaneously. Still crouched, he plucked the necklace out of the sticky crimson mess and glared at the amulet with a heavy gaze, his hand shaking. He shut his eyes and closed his fingers into a fist, the knuckles turning white around the piece of jewelry. It belonged to (Y/N). It had been a gift, a charm to ward off evil and prevent possession.

This was all his fault. He should have known better. Hell, he did know better and yet, he ignored it, because he had a chance to finally be happy. To have an actual family and live the normal, apple pie life he’d always wanted. And now the ones he loved were missing and more than likely dead. Or probably close to it.

His chin quivered for a moment and hot tears stung at the corners of his eyes, his emotions getting the better of him. How could he let this happen? How could he be so stupid and reckless? He knew better, damn it! Once a hunter, always a hunter. There is no getting out of the life, not entirely, because those evil sons-of-bitches will always be out there.

One way or another, they always find a way to catch back up to any hunter who has tried, and every single time it ends bloody and messy and violent. He needed to find them, he just had to. And he would save them, no matter what it cost. He’d pay it.

Releasing a heavy breath, he opened his eyes and willed the tears away, shoving the emotions back down into the pit of his soul. Despite his efforts, a solitary tear made it’s escape, dripping down his left cheek and onto the color of his shirt before he could stop it.

Dean rose to his full height and squared his shoulders, prepared to continue his search. Sliding the necklace into his jacket pocket with care, he followed the trail into the hall with a heavy heart.

Glass cracked and snapped under his boots as he walked through the space, his jaw flexing when he saw the picture of his family shattered on the floor. Their happy faces only added to his grieving heart and guilty conscious, their smiles making his soul ache.

That had been a good day, nearly five years ago now; (Y/N) had worn his favorite blue dress that day, the strapless one that stopped right above her knees and showed off her sexy legs.

She had on that silly - but achingly cute - oversized tan hat that kept the sun from her eyes. He would always tease her about that goofy hat, but she never cared what others thought of her, never ceasing to be herself, no matter what.

They’d gone to the park that day, had an actual picnic and he’d played catch with his son while the girls giggled and painted their nails... They even taught the twins how to ride their bikes that day. They couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

Harper had caught on much quicker than her brother, of course, taking after her mother in that way. Those girls were naturals at almost everything they did, only needing to try something a few times before perfecting it. That had been something he’d adored and admired about his wife and it was a huge part of what made her such a skilled hunter when they met.

Daniel, on the other hand, had to take the time to understand how something worked first. He needed to study the mechanics of things, take them apart, rebuild and understand it completely, inside and out, before he was able to master it. Danny often reminded Dean of the Winchester side of the family. That had been a good day, one of many they’d shared together.

Brought out of his memories by another angry boom from outside, Dean pressed on. Where the picture had once hung, there was a bloody handprint smeared on the white wall, the two colors contrasting greatly.

The blood streaked out toward the kitchen, giving the hunter a clear path to follow. Damn it. Dean grit his teeth. It felt as if something had his heart in a vice, squeezing it tighter and making it increasingly difficult to breathe the further he went.

His emotions were threatening to break through the surface again, fighting hard against his resolve, but he held his ground against them, purely focused on finding his loved ones. Now was not the time to break down. Following the trail of blood and debris, he checked each room along the way, trying to be as thorough as possible. He couldn’t afford to miss a damn thing.

Their bedrooms were empty, and unsurprisingly, every inch had been torn apart. Dean’s chest heaved with emotion, his breath hitching in his throat; if anything happened to those kids, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Continuing on, the hunter emerged into the next room, and found much of the same; broken furniture, shattered pictures and even more blood. But not a single sign of his family. The sliding glass door had been left open, allowing the rain from the storm to collect onto the tile floor.

Dean shut his eyes and took several deep breaths, his chest aching with every forceful beat of his heart. He needed to call Sammy, needed to form a plan. When he opened his eyes, something on the countertop caught his eye; a sheet of paper. Cocking his head with curiosity, he crossed the room in three long, determined strides.

It was a note, addressed to him.

It’s been too long, darling. How’s Moose? Hope the wife and kids are well...oh, wait, that’s right, you’re as clueless as ever. No surprise there. Before we get to the fun bits, let’s talk business; I need a favor and you and your giant of a brother are going to help me. Now, to ensure that things go as planned, I have something of yours. I assure you, they are safe. For now. Do as I ask, and they will be returned to you, alive. So, Dean, dear, let’s make a deal, shall we? You know where to meet me.

Squirrel,

Yours truly,

The King of Hell

“Crowley.” Dean growled deep in his chest, his teeth clenched as his blood began to boil over with rage. “Goddamn it!” He shouted, swiping the contents of the counter onto the floor. “Fuck!” He kicked something across the room, too angry to pay much attention to it as it slammed into the stainless steel refrigerator. He swung at the closest surface, his fist connecting with a nearby wall.

The drywall collapsed around his fist as the plaster fell to the floor at his feet. His knuckles were screaming at him, but he didn’t care, too fueled by his rage to notice. What could Crowley possibly need their help with? It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, they would get it done and save his family. Crowley would get what’s coming to him; Dean would make damn sure of that.

Taking a few calming breaths, Dean removed his phone with a bloodied hand and opened his contacts, scrolling through the names until he found what he was searching for. Sammy. Dialing the number, Dean held the phone to his ear with baited breath. After the third ring, Sam’s voice came in through the other end, sounding concerned because of the late hour, “Dean? Everything alright?”

Dean shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. He cleared his throat, trying to prevent it from shaking too much. “No, Sammy. It ain’t alright.” He admitted, gripping the counter with his free hand, bracing himself. He wanted to crumble onto the floor, his body trembling; his mind flooded with so many different emotions, each of them trying to overpower the other: fear, guilt, anger, heartache…

“Dean, what is it?” The younger Winchester questioned, the worry evident in his voice. “Is it (Y/N)? The kids? Is everyone okay?” He waited patiently on the other end, but Dean could hear him moving around; he assumed his brother was getting his things ready to head out.

“Damn it, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as a few tears slipped through the cracks, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” He shook his head, allowing himself a moment to break, his chest heaving. “We were out!” He slammed his fist down onto the counter, terrified and angry.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam pleaded, wanting desperately to help his big brother.

“Crowley.” Dean clarified, going into more detail as he composed himself and straightened his stance, “Crowley’s taken them.” He took a calming breath, his moment of weakness over. “I need your help, Sammy.”

“Already on my way.”

Annnnnnd there you have it. I hope that wasn’t too rough on the heart? No worries, there may or may not be a part two in the works? We shall see. ;)

Anyway, if you enjoyed that, please like and comment and if you’re feeling a little extra generous, share it with your friends, too! You’re feedback is like GOLD! As always, thanks for reading!

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278 // @flamencodiva // @perpetualabsurdity

#deanwanddamons2kcelebration #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #supernatural fic #spn fic #dean winchester fic #dean fic #angst #kidnapping

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theravencawsatmidnight · 3 years

Text

Paw Prints

Pt 5

Werewolf! Dabi x Fem Reader. Quirkless AU

Reader finds a helpless boy in the woods and discovers hes a werewolf, you decide to take care of him and help him grow. But as he gets older & matures,strange feelings grow too.

W! Mentions of breeding/stepcest

Tags. @babayaga67 @marvelousbakugou @dumdumsquad @celesterdzc18 @jparra4587

“Ill give you your puppies, Dabi” it brought a fangy smile to his face. Dabi pressed you on the wall taking you in and sniffing your neck making sure his scent was there. He was relieved he did not have to force you, he did not want to do that. You tried to stay calm and take in the situation; Dabi, your adopted werewolf pup.. Wanted to put puppies in you. It seemed like only yesterday he was running around the apartment begging you to take him for a walk.. His little hair clip on his hair so he could see.. His box bed… it was all gone now. This was your son now, an adult werewolf needing to breed and start a pack.

“Dabi..” you pressed your hands to his chest pushing him back, he growled moving back to look at you, he blew his hair up and out his eyes. “What?” he spat out just to go back to your neck lickign it this time.

“When...when do you want to leave,,” you shivered under his hot tongue , it was rough against your gentle skin, it felt like it left scratches almost.

“Now” he told you, pulling away to go grab a box and give you a look. “ i found a cabin, it was not empty, but it is now. “

You knew what that meant but you did not dare say anything. “Okay Dabi, do you want me to drive?”

“No, just hurry up, its going to take all day and night to get there” he told you, leaving the apartment with the box. You rubbed your face taking one final look at your home, looking in every room. Memories flashing before your eyes with each room. The night you found Dabi and brought him home, cleaning him up in the tub…. Being woken up by him at 5 in the morning to go running.. The excitement on his face when you dragged that big box into his room.. The blood stains on the kitchen floor you could not get out when he got into the bones. You sighed walking to the door taking one final look back before closing it forever.

The car ride was very quiet, no one was really talking and no one wanted to say anything. The radio had some kind of old news station on and it just made things thick between you and Dabi. was he going to be like this forever ? angry and closed off around you? You did not want that. What would happen when you have the puppies? Would he still want you there?

“Dabi..”

“I dont wanna talk” he told you, turning left and getting on the highway.

Slowly you pulled your bag up from the floor to open it revealing a baby book . you opened it up on your lap looking at the pictures instead..

It was an hour before he said anything, when he did he asked about the book. “Whats that?”

“Your babybook” you told him

“Who still has a damn baby book?”

“I had to .. buy it online, they dont exist anymore really but i wanted one for you.”

He leaned on the car door on his free hand while his other steered. “Well whats in it” he asked you , a little annoyed, his tail was swishing though.

“Well.. “ you went back to the beginning. “One of the first pictures is you asleep on the couch, it was the night i found you. You were all cleaned up finally.. “

“Fucks that mean?”

“Dabi you hated baths…” you chuckled a bit “i had to get in with you or you refused. “

“Pfft…”

“You were knocked out on the couch, on your back, one leg dangling off , your tail swishing and a paw on your chest snoring. And you had a pink hair clip in your hair.”

“Excuse me?!” he looked over at a stop light growling and you pointed to the picture.

“You could not see unless i did that. Even now you refuse to let me cut that hair.”

“What's wrong with my hair ?” he ran his claws through it to get it out of his eyes.

Your giggle made him smile a bit. You continued to tell him what was in the book on the ride, at every stop sign and red light he would look over at what picture you were talking about. He saw how happy he was as a puppy and how fast that smile on his face faded when he matured.

“I dont want to see anymore right now,” he told you.

“Okay. can we .. stop soon”

Dabi pulled into a gas station unlocking the door and getting out to lean on the car while you rushed inside to use the restroom. It was about 6 at night and dark, he had his hands shoved in his pockets and was hunched over while he waited.

You had finished up in the restroom and decided to grab some snacks and water for you and Dabi. He was thinking about the pictures trying to figure out when he changed , was it when he turned a certain age? When he got protective of you? Matured? He was not sure. He ran a paw up his tattoo looking up at the night sky taking in a deep breath.

“..” his head turned to the right and the fur on his tail stuck up.

“Dabi? I got us some sna”

“Get in the car.” his fur was growing .

“O-okay.. But whats wrong?”

“Just fucking.. Do what i say ..” he was grinding his teeth and trying to get his fur to go away.

You got in not saying anything but looked out at your son watching him huff and puff. He was snarling and let out a long howl. You saw two golden eyes disappear in the distance and Dabi got in the car speeding off.

“...Dabi…”

“I dont want-”

“Have you ever seen another werewolf before Dabi”

He hit the wheel and pulled over snarling at you. You reached over and grabbed his left ear at the tip and twisted it making him quiet down.

“Stop it. Bad boy.” you told him and he still gave you a angry look. “Have you or not” you asked again.

“..no”

“Okay” you let go of his ear and cupped his face. “ im sorry i had to do that. But this is one thing you cannot charge into. You could get hurt or worse, okay?”

Dabi took in a big breath and leaned into your hands mumbling. “I smelled him, i couldn't figure out what it was till he growled and.. I wanted to kill him, run off and kill him. If you weren't here i would have.”

“I know” you kissed his forehead. “But you cant have puppies if you do that and he kills you. So please.. “

“I know.” he pulled away, getting back on the road not talking.

It had been a couple hours, Dabi was still driving and you were asleep , he had taken his jacket off at some point to put it on you. He was hoping this would go smoothly, but it looks like that wont be happening,

#pawprints #dabi x reader #werewolf dabi x reader

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awhmilkywey · 3 years

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burgers and fries | t. carrick |

pairing & genre: tobias carrick x f!mc (ava dahl) — fluffy as hell

warnings: one curse word | english is not my first language

word count: 2.4k

request | prompt | neither | challenge

tags: @usuallyamazinglyaverage ; @perriewinklenerdie ; @cyb3r-kat ; @moonsoltice ; @romewritingshop ; @tsrookie ; @hedwigsbixch

a/n: a special thank you to @usuallyamazinglyaverage @perriewinklenerdie and @cyb3r-kat for allowing me the use of their characters (anna dawson, claire herondale and bianca hemgrove, respectivel) and a bonus to perrie for being generally awesome and helping me out with this fic. You can thank her for the Romeo line!

Ava has a history of flouting protocol to assist her patients.

The machine whirred to life, shooting a steady stream of murky liquid into the small paper cup. Ava skimmed her medical chart while she waited. Her patient was a young adult who came in with severe chest pain and discoloured skin around her calves. The primary doctor wrote down that earlier scans ruled out heartburn as well as pericarditis. She reached for her coffee and took a cautious sip. The blemishes could point towards a blood clot—deep vein thrombosis, perhaps? It could quickly develop into a pulmonary embolism if left untreated.

The nurses' station was relatively quiet when she approached.

“Could you order a lung scan and a chest X-ray for my patient, please?”

Marlene took the chart with a professional nod. Her exhaustion matched her own.

Ava murmured a quiet thank you and tossed her cup in the bin. The results wouldn't be back for a couple hours. If her hunch was correct then she would most likely need to page the surgical department. For now, however, her rounds were finished and she could take a breather.

Her face twisted into a frown as she remembered her bag was still in the conference room. Her confrontation with Harper ensured she had been too uncomfortable to remain there. Ava decided to take the stairs one at a time. Saying she was dreading their next meeting was an understatement. They would need to have a serious conversation with Bloom. Ethan breaching protocol was on him alone. A conversation with Harper was in order as well; earlier she had been caught by surprise but she wouldn't let that kind of treatment stand. Barging in, wrongfully accusing her without any evidence whatsoever, yelling and refusing to believe her even when the culprit was standing right there—Ava wondered when the cool renowned surgeon became an unruly child.

The revelation that Harper still saw her as a reckless intern made her incredibly angry. Her one mistake happened over two years ago and she came forward to shoulder the blame. Ava had grown since then, both as a doctor and as a person. Her near-death experience also served to put things into perspective, to say the least. She would always have the best interest of her patients at heart but she would never again jeopardize her career so foolishly.

That thought brought her back to Ethan. Frankly she didn't recognise him any more. He came back from the Amazon a different man—one she wasn't sure she liked all that much. Their tentative relationship hadn't stood a chance. Him being her attending was difficult enough, then she was facing the possibility of being suspended, and just as she thought they could make it work after all, Naveen promoted her and Ethan was her superior once more. He maintained a painfully professional demeanour around her from there on out. Ava wasn't doing too great during that time.

And when her intern year came to an end, he disappeared. He wasn't answering her calls nor her texts and her trips to his apartment were fruitless. She found out he was out of the country through WHO's Instagram account. She stopped bothering afterwards.

Ava shook her head, red curls bouncing over her shoulders. Dwelling on the past wasn't helpful. Especially when the Ethan from her memories didn't correlate with the Ethan she was currently working with. Her most recent conversations with him left a sour taste in her mouth.

The conference room wasn't as empty as she expected.

“Heading out?” Tobias sent her a warm smile.

“I've some free time to kill.”

He nodded in understanding. “Holding up okay?”

Ava hesitated. It occurred to her that he was the only person she was truly comfortable with on the team. The only one who'd never underestimated her or made her feel lesser.Tobias was the person who either supported her suggestions or countered them with his own logical arguments and used both as teaching opportunities.

“I've been through worse,” she replied, shrugging non-committally.

He scowled. “What Harper did was uncalled for.”

Ava offered him a wry smile. “I have a history, don't you see?”

“Oh you mean the history of being civil to Bloom even though you want to punch his face in?” he asked innocently.

A laugh bubbled up in her chest and he soon followed with his own deep chuckle.

“There's this place downtown.” He sobered up but was still grinning. “One of my favourites, if you want to check it out.”

“What's in it for me?” Ava raised a playful eyebrow.

His eyes darkened, tongue briefly flickering out. “Good music, good books. We could get dinner after.”

Ava swallowed. “Sounds fantastic.”

Tobias' intense look softened. “It's a date,” he said cheekily.

She laughed again and swatted at his arm. “Lead the way, Romeo, before I change my mind.”

Bantering with him was easier than it should've been. Knowing how laid-back he could be when comfortable made her notice more about how he carried himself around the rest of the team. It gave her a small thrill to be able to witness that side of him.

Tobias drove her to a time-worn shop tucked away between a colourful diner and a boarded-up building. An old sign hung over the entrance reading The Starlight Den. The outer walls were covered in messy chalky drawings and splashes of peeling paint, broken crayons and plastic buckets sitting to one side. He laid a hand on her lower back, gently guiding her through the battered wooden door.

“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” he commented, glancing fondly around the shop.

Neutral colours predominated with the occasional vibrant hue flashing here and there. Bookshelves lined the left side, brimming with works from classics to comic books. Customers could settle down on various armchairs and sofas, reading under the light of several dimmed lamps. Ava slid her eyes from the makeshift coffee bar to the vintage posters on the opposite wall. A soft tune drifted from the gramophone in the corner. Neat stacks of vinyl records were arranged in polished boxes in the centre. A counter held several players for general use nearby.

“This is a dream come true,” Ava marvelled, running her fingertips across the book spines.

Tobias hummed, reaching to pluck a comic from the shelf. He presented it to her with a flourish. Spider-Man was holding a man clad in green on the cover.

“First introduction to Spidey. Also the first comic I ever read,” he disclosed, absently thumbing through the pages.

“I didn't know you read comics.”

Tobias cocked his head. “Haven't read them in a long while but they were a big part of my childhood.”

Ava cast a look about. “I can see why you'd like to come here.”

Two teenagers were hanging around a record player, giggling quietly to each other, while a sharply dressed man made small talk with the handsome man behind the register. The overall atmosphere was quite cosy. It felt a bit like home. When she returned her wandering gaze to Tobias, he offered her a knowing smile.

“I have an idea,” he announced with a quick clap of his hands. “We each pick a book and a record for the other. I have a player back at my apartment.”

Ava crossed her arms. “Is this a ploy to get me into your bed, Carrick?”

He raised his palms up in mock surrender. “Absolutely not. Just a ploy to get a pretty woman eating take-out on my couch.”

“From that diner next door?”

“Rosa makes the best burgers and milkshakes in Boston.” He gave a solemn nod, cracking up in the following beat.

Ava contemplated him. “It's a date.”

He lit up with a boyish smile.

She didn't know much about his likes and dislikes given that all their interactions revolved around their work. Browsing the bookcases, she opted to get him a copy of The Little Prince. She remembered her papa reading it to her when she was sick or when grief was heavier than most days. She picked up A Day at the Raceson her way to the counter.

“Don't peek,” Tobias warned after their purchases were done. “I'm going to get our food and then we can head back.”

“I want nuggets.” Ava blushed when her stomach growled.

He patted her head. “As you wish, m'lady.”

Ava watched him walk away, unable to remember the last time she was this happy. Tobias was so carefree. He didn't allow their work to burden him, always trying to finding the silver lining in each case, and refused to let it interfere with his life outside the hospital. It was a breath of fresh air, compared to her previous relationship with Ethan. Tobias was light where Ethan was dark.

The ride back to his flat was mostly quiet. He tapped on the wheel along with the song playing on the radio—she vaguely recognised it as being a new Ariana Grande single. She, on the other hand, was more occupied with staring out the window and trying to control her nerves. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, making her almost want to throw up. Tobias was undeniably attractive, charming and witty. And they were going to be alone at his place.

Ava choked on air.

He was quick to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, I got you.” At her lack of response, he slid his hand further and began to rub her back, eyes briefly leaving the road to look her over.

“I'm good,” she gasped.

His touch continued to burn her skin until the car was parked in his garage.

Tobias' flat was messier than she expected but not in the dirty sense of the word. It was a sort of organised chaos that breathed life into the walls. The coffee table peeked from beneath a mountain of medical journals, two blankets were thrown haphazardly on the couch with a pillow half-fallen on the carpet, like he had dozed off while reading. The telly was still on as well and she paused to watch Jessica Aniston and Matt LeBlanc acting on the screen.

He steered her towards the kitchen.

“I forgot to clean, sorry.” He seemed unusually sheepish.

“Mine's not much better, believe me,” she reassured him, squeezing his arm. She took the food bags from him and set them on the table. “Kitchen or living room?”

“Living room!” he called out from the pantry, coming out with a package of napkins and a container of assorted candy.

He had stored away the blankets and the pillow by the time she brought the food to the coffee table, journals stashed away in the corner bookcase. Ava noticed that he also changed into a looser tee, his biceps highlighted underneath the artificial lighting. He grabbed their purchases from the shop and turned to her with a bright smile.

“I realised we don't actually know each other that well,” he said, grabbing the book from the bag, “and I would like to remedy that.”

Ava accepted the gift, lips quirking up at the sight of the blue cover. “I've never read The Great Gatsby,” she informed.

His smile widened. “Let me know what you think when you're done, yeah?”

“I got you this one.” God she was nervous. “I, uh—I didn't know what you liked so I figured I'd give you one of my favourites. After my mum died... my dad used to read it to me as a kid.”

Tobias met her gaze and she was surprised to see him so serious. “I—Thank you, Ava. It means a lot that you would share that with me.”

She needed to look away. Was he getting closer?

Her stomach growled again.

“Eat,” he murmured, slowly leaning back. “I'll put the records on.”

He returned to the couch as the beginnings of Dancing Queenfilled the room. Ava beamed.

“How did you know?”

He popped a fry in his mouth. “I may have cheated on this one. Claire told me you were a fan.”

The mention of her friend warmed her heart. “I didn't know you and C were buddies.”

Tobias rubbed the back of his neck. “We're not, not really. I, um, went to ask her how you were after what happened. Anna and Hemgrove were gone already, so...”

His concern sent the butterflies into a frenzy. Ava focused on her burger so he wouldn't see the deep red staining her cheeks.

It was only two episodes into Friends that she noticed the missing fries in her plate. An indignant yelp was muffled by the food in her mouth. Tobias blindly reached for another one but she slapped his hand away, earning her a surprised squawk from the man. Ava made a move for his plate and was stopped when he put his arm between them, lifting the other up so she wouldn't touch his food.

“Oi! That's not fair!” she protested, not realising she was half-sitting on his lap as she tried to get her fries back.

“All's fair when you're hungry, sweetheart,” he retorted, laughing at her worthless attempts.

The loud sound of porcelain breaking was unmistakable. In an effort to get closer, she had pressed against his chest, their bodies practically glued together, and the twist of his wrist weakened his grip on the plate. Ava sunk into him in defeat and promptly peeped as her groin made contact with his.

“Shit, sorry Av—nghh...” He cut off with a strangled moan.

Ava hurried to relieve the pressure of her thigh on his crotch, feeling mortified.

“I'm sorry—” “Wait—” they spoke at the same time, both floundering.

“Just—wait.” Tobias held onto her hips, heaving out a frustrated sigh.

She would never admit to anyone that no, she very much did not want to move.

Except maybe to the girls, who would most definitely grill her tomorrow.

They remained in that exact position for a couple silent moments. Neither sure what to say nor how to act upon the revelation that they were entirely too comfortable physically for two people who were supposed to be just work acquaintances.

Up close, his eyes looked more green than brown. Ava told herself that she had bigger things to worry about.

But it was a pretty colour.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he quietly confessed. “I have to know, though. Is—is there anything between you and Ethan?”

She let out a shaky breath, touching her forehead to his. “Not since last year.”

He gave a short nod, raising a hand to cup her face. “Could there be anything between us?”

“Why don't you kiss me and find out?” she whispered against his lips.

She felt his smile before he did.

#tobias carrick #open heart #choices: stories you play #choices open heart #open heart tobias #choices #fanfiction #f: burgers and fries

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agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

A Place Called Home | Chapter 19

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

As you sit there and endure the tortures of being an illegal fighting ring’s prisoner, you soon hear what you dread the most. Your worse nightmare has come true. (Italics: Flashback moments)

Chapter warning(s): Light teasing, violence. Please read at your own discretion

The 6 just continued running, afraid that there would be people to chase them. Namjoon saw signs of a city and they cut out of the forest.

“Let’s go.” He led the group towards the flashing lights of the buildings. Looking at the signs, they realised they were across town. There was no way they would be able to make it back home on foot.

“Shall we take a train?” Taehyung asked.

“We should have enough money.” Jin nodded. Hoseok took his pouch out to count what they had. He was in charge of the money for their trip.

"Wait, it’s after curfew. We’ll get in trouble if people report us.” Namjoon frowned. They decided to start walking. Hopefully they had enough energy to talk until the curfew was up, then they could take public transportation. It was dark and the streets were empty enough that they wouldn’t be questioned or reported to the police.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asked Jimin, who stumbled a little.

“I’m okay.” Jimin gave a tired smile. Yoongi took his water bottle and handed it to Jimin. Jimin took small sips, careful to reserve some for the panther and handed it back to him.

“It’ll be about 2 hours until curfew is up.” Jin checked his watch. The group made sure to take small breaks every now and then to prevent over exhaustion.

“Yoongi?” A familiar voice spoke. The group froze and turned around to see who it was.

“Head nurse Park?” The panther tilted his head.

“How are you boys? I haven’t seen you in ages, what are you doing out here at this hour?” Head nurse Park asked. She was going to take her usual morning walk when she saw the familiar group of hybrids walk past her house. Luckily, she recognised Yoongi and called out to him.

“We’re trying to get home. We think something has happened to (y/n).” Taehyung spoke sadly.

“Oh, dear. And where have you boys been?”

“At a safe house, separated from her. We ran away last night.” Yoongi explained. Head nurse Park’s heart broke as she saw how tired the boys looked from walking the whole night.

“Come in. At least have some food and drinks until curfew is up.” She opened the gate wider for them to come into her property.

“Stay here.” She handed them some blankets to bundle up as she went to the kitchen. First, she fixed them some hot tea to warm up. Then she made a quick, simple breakfast for them. Jimin quickly fell asleep in Namjoon’s lap, exhausted from walking the whole night. The boys were all thanking their lucky stars that they ran into head nurse Park.

“Here, it’s not much but it’ll do.” She put the tray of porridge down.

“No, it’s more than enough. Thank you.” Jin gave the bowls out. Namjoon woke Jimin up to eat something as well.

“Is there anyone I can call or-”

“No! Umm... sorry. We’re not supposed to be out of the safe house. They didn’t want us to know about something happening to (y/n). We found out by accident, which is why we want to save her.” Namjoon said.

“I understand. Before (y/n) took her vacation, she was acting weird in the hospital. She was distracted, she wasn’t eating right, it was obvious something was wrong. Now I know the reason, it was because she was separated from all of you.” She smiled softly.

The boys’ hearts all broke when they heard that you weren’t taking care of yourself while they weren’t there, not like they were exactly doing well either.

“I hope (y/n) is okay.” She stroked Taehyung’s head.

“She will be.” Yoongi clenched his fist. Once the clock hit 7 am, the boys got ready to head home.

“Take this, enough for the bus.” Head nurse Park handed them some bills.

“No, you’ve done enough for us. We can’t take your money too.” Jin shook his head. Head nurse Park just grabbed his hand and shoved the money in before leaving for her morning walk.

“We better go.” Hoseok took the money from Jin and they headed to the bus station. When the bus came, they were about to step on when the bus conductor stopped them, he frowned at the group before pointing at the sign, ‘No strays allowed’. Sighing, they all proceeded to take their tags out from underneath their shirts.

Only then did he move back into his driver’s seat. Yoongi rolled his eyes and made sure everyone was able to get in and find a seat.

“You should sit, hyung.” Jimin was about to get up when Yoongi pushed him back down by his shoulder. Yoongi just looked away, continuing to shield Jimin with his body.

“Why aren’t you sitting?” Yoongi looked up at you.

“Because there aren’t any other seats, silly. It’s alright, the journey is not that far. Just sit or we’ll lose it and both have to stand.” You smiled down at him, stroking his head. Yoongi blinked and looked around the bus. Indeed, there weren’t any other available seats.

“Yoongi, what are you-” Suddenly, Yoongi yanked you down onto his lap. You blushed at the sudden contact.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered harshly.

“Who says we can’t share a seat?” Yoongi smirked at you, circling his arms around your waist. You choked and met eyes with an old lady that was giving you disapproving looks.

“We’re in public! This is very inappropriate.” You squeaked.

“Aww, is my kitten have dirty thoughts? Naughty kitten.” He whispered in your ear. You shivered as you felt his warm breath against your skin. Immediately, your whole body went warm and your cheeks turned fire red.

“Yoongi!” You slapped his arm.

“I’m just teasing, just relax, kitten.” He chuckled. You ducked your head slightly but still bowed your head to the old lady. That was the first time Yoongi was taking the bus. Even if you had a car, you insisted that he experience ‘normal life’ and brought him on his first bus ride. It was definitely an experience that he would never forget.

“Yoongs?” Jin called, breaking Yoongi out of his flashback. He looked up at the arctic fox.

“We’re here.” He told the younger. Yoongi nodded and woke Jimin up. He held onto the boy’s hand, something he has never done before, and led him out of the bus. The 6 walked towards their old house.

“There’s no one.” Hoseok sniffed the air. They could smell the scent of other people coming in and out of the house previously, as well as yours.

“Be careful.” Namjoon cautioned.

When they stepped inside, they felt the wind get knocked out of them. Their house wasn’t recognisable anymore. Everything was broken, like a tornado had swept through the place, leaving nothing intact. Yoongi’s eyes travelled to his now broken piano.

“(y/n)...” Jimin whimpered as he picked up your family picture from under the pile of glass.

“There’s something written at the back.” Taehyung pointed out. They all gathered as Jimin turned the photo over. It was true. In red writing, there was an address messily scribbled on.

‘Come get your precious owner.’

The agents that came to scout and investigate the house obviously missed this, considering it was still left untouched under the glass.

“This is all we need. We better go before others come.” Jin said. Jimin folded the photo and placed it into his pocket. They all froze when they heard cars pulling up outside, followed by unrecognisable voices.

“They escaped the safe house?... Okay, we just pulled up to the house. We’ll see if they’re here.” There was someone on the phone. Taehyung pointed to the back exit and they quickly ran out the door as they heard the footsteps approaching the front door. Kilo must have noticed that they disappeared and informed the other agents.

“Where shall we go?” Taehyung panted.

“Just keep running.” Namjoon and Yoongi stayed at the back of the group in case anyone did discovered them and gave a chase.

“We need to go to that address.” Hoseok said.

“Let’s split into two cabs and go. The place is pretty far out and it’ll take us all day to get there if we walk or take public transport.” Jin suggested and they exited out into the main road.

Luckily, they were able to get two taxis at the same time. They had just enough money to pay for the journey. It was Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok in one cab, Taehyung, Jimin and Jin in the other. Yoongi and Namjoon haven’t even seen the outside of the fighting ring before, they were going in blind.

“Ugh!” You spat out more blood as a kick was landed against your stomach. You wheezed, feeling the dull ache as you breathed.

“You’re make this too hard on yourself, doctor.” Boss Im chuckled, putting a new cigarette to his lips.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree.” You glared at him.

“I left a nice message for your hybrids. I bet they’re on their way here right now.” He smiled. You continued to keep your fierce gaze on him but on the inside, you were panicking. You prayed the boys weren’t actually coming.

“I’ll be sure to keep you updated on their due arrival.” He left with his men. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Let me help you.” The same girl that has been bringing you meals rushed into your cell with a first aid box. You let out a hiss, moving away from her.

“Please.” She begged, grasping your wrist. You were sceptical but nodded anyway. Slowly she began to clean your wounds and bandage you up. There wasn’t much she could do for the internal bleeding you were suffering from but she managed to get the superficial wounds.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“His wife...” She looked away, almost ashamed.

“If you see my hybrids, turn them away. Don’t let them find me, please.” You begged her, holding her hands in your own.

“Can I ask why you are trying so hard to protect them? To the point you’d rather suffer multiple beatings.”

“I’ve already broken so many promises with them. The least I could do is try my best to honour one promise, which is that they’ll never return to this life of illegal captivity and fighting again.” You scoffed with a sarcastic chuckle. She nodded her head and packed up, leaving the cell. You pulled yourself onto the mattress and laid down with a grunt.

You were woken up by loud banging on the bars of your cell. Someone roughly bound your hands behind your back and unlocked the chain around your ankle. He pulled you into a standing position.

“Let’s go.” He said gruffly and pulled you along. You were pulled into a big room, with Boss Im sitting in what looks like a throne.

“I told you I’ll keep you updated. I’m never wrong, doctor.” He spoke with a smile.

“No...” The colour drained from your face.

“No!” You thrashed around as the other doors opened and 6 hybrids were brought in. For the first time in almost a month, you faced your hybrids. You cried as you shook your head.

“No, please... no.” You sobbed.

“(y/n).” They all whimpered at your state. You had lost so much weight, the dark circles under your eyes were obvious and you were bloodied and bruised. It hurt them to even think of how much torture you went through alone here. Boss Im gave a content smirk.

“Yoongi, Namjoon. Nice to see you again.” Boss Im grabbed their chins. Yoongi spat at him and he frowned, immediately socking him in the jaw.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

“Help me understand why you like these animals so much, doctor. They’re feral, they’re killers and yet, you treat them like every house cat and dog. They’re monsters.” Boss Im chuckled.

“You’re the monster! Not them!” You shouted.

“I’ll kill you, Im.” Namjoon growled.

“Not if you want your precious mate to stay alive. I go down, she goes down with me.” Boss Im nodded to the man holding him and soon, you felt a cold metal being pressed against the jugular vein in your neck. The hybrids all let out growls at his actions. Boss Im just laughed and clapped at what a good reaction they gave him.

“You brought some nice extras for me. A tiger, a fox, a golden retriever and oh, what a rare gem, a male calico cat.” Boss Im touched Jimin’s clipped ear.

“Stop. Don’t touch him!” You begged.

“Oh, doctor. Aren’t you curious to see how your mates fight? And now that you’re here, maybe they’ll fight even better. It gives them a reason to give it their all.” He smirked.

“You’re despicable. Just let them go.”

“But the show hasn’t even started, doctor. Listen, I’ll let you see how well your little mates fight. You deserve front row seats after taking such good care of them. For now, take them away.” Boss Im waved. Other henchmen came and grabbed the hybrids, bringing them with you.

“You two, in there.” Jimin and Hoseok were thrown into a cell with you. Jin and Namjoon were together while Yoongi and Taehyung were together, being canines and felines.

“(y/n).” Jimin and Hoseok immediately embraced you.

“No... why did you come? You will die here.” You cried.

“It’s okay, kitten. We’re okay. Boss won’t kill us as long as we fight for him.” Yoongi reached through the bars to pat your head. He wiped your tears with a reassuring smile. Even if the bars separating you, Yoongi still tried his best to hug you and cradle you in his arms.

“We’re together now. That’s all that matters.” Taehyung comforted.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head.

“Hush, no apologies.” Hoseok said. You moved over to the other side to hug Namjoon and Jin. This was not part off the plan, for all of you to be trapped here.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You asked Hoseok as Jimin hugged you like a koala.

“He didn’t come.” Hoseok tried to smile. You pulled him close to you, stroking his head. The hugging from both of them hurt your bruised body but you didn’t care, you wanted to hold them forever.

The 6 hybrids stopped outside the abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“We’re here.” Namjoon and Yoongi recognised the place by it’s smell of the old building and blood. It was faint but they could smell you as well.

“This is your last chance to turn around and walk away. The boss wanted the two of us. There’s still a chance for the 4 of you to leave. Because once we get in there, there’s no knowing how long we’ll be there or what will happen to us. It may be death or torture. We may even have to fight.” Yoongi said. The 4 all looked at each other.

“I want to save her, hyung. She doesn’t belong here.” Jimin said sadly. The others all nodded their heads. It didn’t amtter what happened to them as long as you were safe.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Jin said. Suddenly, a small figure ran out at them. They all got into a defence position.

“Stop! I’m not going to hurt you but please, go away.” She said frantically. Yoongi and Namjoon recognised her. They have seen her before and she was the one that delivered their food while they were here.

“Who are you?” Taehyung asked.

“It doesn’t matter. But you have to go. You can’t be here!” She shook her hands, trying to shoo them away.

“We’re here for some personal business, lady.” Hoseok growled.

“Your owner, the doctor. Her only request that she begged me to keep all of you away. She doesn’t want you guys to end up prisoner like her. She doesn’t want you guys here.” The lady explained.

“She’s really here. Move out of the way.” Yoongi barred his canines and they shoved past the lady, walking into the compound.

“My two best fighters and two new fighters, better eat your fill.” Boss Im came again. Two men had a tray filled with cooked beef. You went pale, he was going to ask Taehyung and Jin to fight for him as well. No wonder they kept them in two separate cages from you, Jimin and Hoseok. Jimin and Hoseok were domestic breeds, they don’t fight.

“Let them go, please.” You kneeled by the bars of your cell.

“Why would I? Namjoon and Yoongi have been trained enough that they can bring me a lot of money.” Boss Im smiled.

“This is wrong!” You clenched your fists.

“Do you think I care? These animals make me rich, that’s all that matters.” He shrugged and left. The 4 hybrids handed some beef to Jimin and Hoseok to eat. You buried your face into your hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You chanted.

“My love, listen to me. You did nothing wrong, you hear me? None of us are angry with you or blame you. What you did was just to protect us. We came here to save you on our own will, knowing what we will happen. It’s alright.” Namjoon cupped your face.

“They’re going to make Tae and Jin fight.” Your breathing quickened.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about that for a second. Take a deep breath, my love. Breathe with me. Like Tae said, we’re all together now. We’ll work through this together, hmm? We’ll never separate again.” Namjoon cooed.

“There was never a moment that I didn’t think about you boys.” You placed a hand over his.

“You were constantly on our minds too, snowflake. You’re our only mate, after all.” Jin chuckled, taking your hand to kiss the back of it.

“You see? We’ve never parted with these.” Taehyung flashed his boxy grin, taking his green dog tag out to show you. Oh, how you missed that charming smile of his.

“We’ll be okay.” Jimin whispered.

The door slamming loudly woke Jungkook up. He jumped slightly and suddenly, was grabbed by the forearms. He was pulled up into a sleeping position, facing a frantic Kilo.

“Jungkook! Where are they?!” Kilo shook him.

“Who?” Jungkook replied lazily.

“The other 6 hybrids! Your brothers, where did they go?!” Jungkook could just hear Kilo’s rapid heart rate. He was scared, nervous and panicking. Maybe he was afraid that losing 6 hybrids would cause him to get in trouble with Alpha or worse, get fired from the organisation.

“Jungkook, where are the 6 hybrids?” Kilo asked again.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook said monotonously, letting out a yawn.

“Listen, Jungkook. I know your brothers ran away because if they were kidnapped, you wouldn’t have been left here. Tell me, did they go and look for (y/n)?” Kilo was sweating bullets.

“They are bound to find out.” Jungkook whispered.

“They are in grave danger. You guys don’t have the strength to bring down an illegal fighting ring, much less, save your owner.” Kilo sighed, rubbing his forehead. Jungkook frowned, who was he to underestimate the strength of his brothers? Jungkook swatted Kilo’s hands off him and stood up. The man looked at the nonchalant rabbit.

“Did you make breakfast? I’m hungry.” He yawned and went to the bathroom.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you not worried about your brothers?” Kilo asked. Of course, Jungkook was worried but he couldn’t show it. He shrugged at Kilo’s question and headed to the kitchen.

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