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bucketsofmonsters · 1 month

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Where the Light Enters - Part 3

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, non-explicit dubcon, panic attacks, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 6k

ao3 link

Masterlist

The Hinterlands wasn’t the worst place in the world. It was warmer than the snow covered mountain she was relegated to most of the time, so she certainly enjoyed that. She didn’t have to wear layers and layers of fur and thus could actually move properly which was a novelty to her at this point.

It was quite pretty too. She loved the lakes and rivers when things were calm.

The bears in the Hinterlands were not her favorite. She always brought someone sturdy to send off after them while she stayed far away from the creatures.

The demons were certainly unpleasant, but that came with the territory when she was the only person that could close their entrance to this world.

It was the sheer quantity of violent humans running around that really got to her. Templars in all colors and mages and venatori and the carta, half of them fighting both each other and her.

She’d take a hundred unthinking bears over them.

Her worst fear was getting captured.

Of course, she would give the Inquisition up in a second and convert fully to the side of whoever captured her, she knew that much. But that wasn’t something she could recover from in the eyes of her current allies and the last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of a force as powerful as the Inquisition who wanted her as badly as they did.

Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

In the meantime, they wandered. Cassandra was ready to fight anything, practically begging someone to come up to her.

That meant being loud and noticeable in a way that was clearly meant to draw attention.

In the end, they watched Cassandra fight a bear.

Varric helped, she supposed. He fired off arrows as quickly as his mechanical crossbow allowed him to.

Rosemary did not help, but then again, what could she do? She wasn’t equipped to fight anything, let alone a bear.

Cole was up in a tree. When Varric tried to figure out what he was doing, the only response he could pull from him was, “She needs to fight. She needs to know she’s a protector. She doesn’t need my help. I would make it worse, another thing to watch.”

“You’re not a thing, kid,” Varric said as he notched another arrow.

“She thinks I am.”

“She’s just scared,” Varric tried to reassure him, even as distracted as he was.

“Yes. Lots of people are scared. I don’t know how to make them stop.”

Despite Cassandra being the one fighting the bear face to face, Varric managed to deal the killing blow with a swift arrow between the ribs. “None of us do.”

They plodded off again after that.

Her feet were already tired, still unaccustomed to the long treks that being a member of the Inquisition required of her. She wished she had a more sedentary power, or perhaps wished that they could bring the rifts back to her.

And then, as they stomped along and imagined a world where she didn't have to wander around in bear infested woods, her least favorite thing happened. They found a rift.

There was something genuinely incredible about them, if you didn’t know how truly dangerous they were. The way it hung in the open sky, a rip in the clear void of the air. The green glow curled at the edges, like it was trying to grab onto the empty air for purchase.

As soon as they got close enough, its defenses sprung up and all hell broke loose.

Her power didn’t work if she was too far away, so instead, every time they found one, she found the best hiding spot she could and hunkered down, praying her companions would protect her.

She felt even more exposed than usual. She realized that she’d foolishly forgotten a mage and thus, no one here could cast a protective barrier around her. Likewise, with only one warrior, and a relatively small one at that, she didn’t have a particularly good human shield.

Varric tried his best, but he was a distance fighter. It wasn’t his fault.

Cassandra was overwhelmed. One bear was fine, she could focus her attention and do what needed to be done. But here she was too split, with half a dozen demons swarming them. She couldn’t cover Rosemary properly and fight. So she made the choice anyone would. She focused all her attention on the fighting and Rosemary sunk back further behind the rock she’d found that was barely half her size.

And then Cole looked down at her, making herself small on the floor; he looked at the other two, overwhelmed by demons; and he sprung into action.

It was mesmerizing to watch. The way he flickered in and out of existence in some sort of cosmic dance, daggers shining in the sun. Each strike was perfectly placed, causing more damage than inelegant swords and spells ever could

He was right. The boy could fight.

And fight he did.

Rosemary’s arms rose to cover her head, praying to whatever god these idiots believed in that she’d make it out of this alive. She couldn’t remember what the god’s name was, but she figured she was more likely to respond in this new land so it was worth a shot.

The chaos began to die down and she peeked out to see a disheveled but alive Varric.

She rose shakily to her feet, leaning on the rock as she did.

And then a bright green flickering silhouette appeared in front of her, shaped exactly like a wraith, and she fell back into soft soil.

Cole drew back into focus out of the green as she breathed unsteady breaths.

She could see his face like this, from below. It looked unnervingly blank, as it always did. It was like he didn’t know how to paint emotions across it, blank not in a carefully studied way as hers often was, but instead blank in an innocent, unknowing way.

He just stared down at her, not so much as lifting a hand out to help her up.

His brows furrowed. “Can you not stand on your own? I thought you just did.”

She stood once more with a sigh. “It’s just polite.”

She raised her hand to the now unprotected rift, focusing on the strange power the fade had implanted into her palm a year ago.

As she did, the tear in the fade began to close, returning from a green tinged void back to endless clear.

She flexed her hand as the rift finally sealed itself. It stung a little to close them, leaving a dull ache behind for a few hours after each use. It felt like it had been lasting longer and she worried, not for the first time, that this was doing real damage to her.

But there was nothing to be done about it. She’d tried to wriggle her way out of this countless times, but it was the one thing they would not budge on. Those rifts needed to be closed, at the expense of her comfort or not.

“Do they know it hurts?” Cole asked, and she wondered why he didn’t already know the answer to his own question.

Cassandra scrunched up her nose. “What hurts?”

“Nothing,” she snapped, more ill-tempered than she ever let them see her.

“The mark,” said Cole. “It burrows into her, aches and rots. The fade isn’t meant to go in a girl, it’s too big for her.”

Cassandra looked like she only mostly understood what he was talking about. “We all have sacrifices we must make to do our part.”

Rosemary did her best to nod amiably, a deep resentment settling in her chest.

“C’mon Rosie,” Varric said, pulling her to the side. “I’ll see if I can help with that.”

He gave her a salve that didn’t help. She told him it did but made it very clear that she was putting on a false, brave face.

He gave her a clap on the shoulder and told her she was good as new.

She was glad Cole didn’t decide to speak up.

They continued plodding along, facing off against a few groups of hostile mages and warriors but no more demons.

Cole seemed thrilled about the whole ordeal. After fighting a small squadron of mages, he rooted around in one of the corpses’ pockets, clearly looking for something.

A moment later, he held up a note half covered in blood. “Brothers, tired of fighting. Their hands remember holding each other, their mouths remember smiling. Their cheeks draw up but it never feels the same anymore. He wondered if he was missed when he was struck down, knew he wasn’t. He knew incorrectly,” he announced. “We should give it to him, it wants to be given.”

“If you find who it’s for on the way, you can give it to him then,” she tried to reason with him.

“He’s behind us. He wonders how his brother fared, terrified he’ll see him in the fight. We killed him. We have to give him the letter.”

“Listen,” she said, turning fully to face him. “If we don’t get moving, more people get hurt. We can deliver letters to grieving family members when people in the Hinterlands aren’t being attacked by demons and corrupted men anymore, alright?”

“Why do you try that on me? I can see inside. It’s for them, a performance. You would never deliver a letter. Their nobility wielded against me, because they want to help.”

It was a miracle Varric and Cassandra seemed as disinterested in these bizarre outbursts as they were.

She dragged him along, trying to get him to stop saying incriminating things about her. She had to break the instinct to tell him white lies in an attempt to placate him. They were clearly doing more harm than good.

As they continued along, Cole in a notably worse mood than before, they saw a farm in the distance and she smiled. Finally, some good news. They could acquisition some horses and then she’d be able to rest her feet and not have to walk for miles and miles.

She walked into the farm house, explained who she was and who she was with, and asked incredibly nicely if they could spare some horses.

And then they gave them a horse. One horse. For four people.

Cassandra scoffed at the sight and she silently agreed. If it were just her, she would have stolen more, whether the farmers could spare them or not. But then again, if it had just been her, the one horse would have been fine.

They took the horse anyway, figuring it was better than nothing. She silently told herself she could run off with it if things got truly dire, abandoning the rest of her party.

She could feel Cole’s eyes on the back of her head as she thought it, an involuntary shiver running through her.

As they were leaving the farm, horse in tow, a panicked farmer approached the four of them.

“Please,” he called out to them. “Our druffalo has gone missing. If you see her, could you return her to us? She's our prize animal, we need her.”

Cole’s head whipped around to face the farmer the second they started to speak.

She’d already begun saying, “we’re incredibly busy,” as his head turned to her, eyes expectant and hopeful.

The look did nothing to change her mind.

And then they were off again. They were headed for real civilization this time. She didn’t even know this place had civilization.

Apparently the town was called Redcliffe and they were going to meet mages. It occurred to her for the second time that day that perhaps bringing a mage along would have been prudent. She thought she’d probably blocked that idea out because she could not stand Solas’s smug voice for another week. She’d almost strangled him last time.

Surely there were other mages in Thedas that were willing to help. She would have taken anyone else.

She supposed they were going to meet mages now. Maybe one of them loved trudging through the woods and casting protective spells around frightened, incompetent leaders.

When they got to this town, however, the mages were nowhere to be found. Something about them being taken over.

At least if the mages were taken over by the enemy, she had templars on her side. This is what they were trained to do, stop rebel mages.

With no mages to confront, she turned to Varric for some guidance.

He smiled and said, “Nothing else for it, I guess. Time to go to the tavern.”

She grinned at him, glad she’d brought him along.

It wasn’t a very big tavern but then again, it wasn’t a very big town. It wasn’t truly small, those sorts of towns didn’t have taverns, just illegal, impossibly strong alcohol being manufactured in someone’s shed.

Regardless of the size of the tavern, she was glad to be there. It was better than the woods.

Varric ordered four drinks, handing one to her and Cassandra before turning to Cole.

“How old are you anyways,” he asked, looking Cole up and down.

Cole looked at him vacantly. “Time passes differently in the fade, I don’t know. This body is twenty. Was twenty. He died.”

Varric nodded, giving Rosemary a pointed look. “Right. You can probably have a beer then. It’ll be good for you, put some hair on that chest.”

“A drink can give me hair?” he asked.

“Not literally. It’s a figure of speech.”

Cassandra eyed the exchange nervously. “I don’t think we should be giving a spirit anything to further lower its inhibitions. He’s already dangerous, the last thing we need is for him to be more unpredictable.”

Rosemary silently agreed, wanting nothing less than for Cole to develop loose lips about things he should be keeping secret.

Varric brushed the concern off. “It’ll be fine, relax a little.”

Cassandra seemed unconvinced.

“How do I do it?” Cole asked as he looked down the drink.

“Just drink it,” Varric said, and she couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever drunk anything before.

“But how?”

Varric laughed a big booming laugh and showed the spirit how drinking worked, chugging the whole thing in one fell swoop.

Cole watched him carefully and then did his best to mimic it. As soon as the liquid entered his mouth he coughed, some of the beer spilling out of his nose.

“Why?” he sputtered out, and Cassandra groaned as Rosemary fought back a laugh.

His head jerked up at that, watching the smile get suppressed off her face in lieu of faux concern.

“You should let it through or your mouth might forget how to smile,” he said, and Varric seemed more concerned by that than he’d been by Cole choking.

“I smile plenty,” she said, the comment effectively souring her mood.

“No. Real ones.”

She slammed back her drink, wishing Varric had gotten her something stronger.

But she never actually drank, not enough to get anywhere near drunk, it dulled her inhibitions too much. This spirit was really getting to her.

Varric seemed unphased by the end of the interaction, though she could tell he was still very much interested in Cole. Meanwhile, Cassandra had wandered off. She’d never been one for taverns.

Varric downed two more drinks before grabbing the pair of them from where they had been sitting, silently, at a table, neither of them doing much of anything.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find somewhere to sleep.”

Varric found an inn, which she didn’t mind. At least it had real beds inside.

Small town that it was, there were only two rooms available. Rosemary wondered if anyone else was staying here or if they only had two rooms in total. She supposed she’d never find out.

Varric grabbed Cole, pulling him towards one of the rooms and sending her and Cassandra up to the other with a smile.

Cassandra insisted she sleep on the floor while Rosemary got the bed. She made sure to protest just enough that it looked like she was putting up a fight while still getting to sleep on the soft mattress.

It was a restful night. At least for her. She happily would have stayed another night but she knew it wasn’t in the cards.

Even if she pushed for another night, eventually they had to leave Redcliffe and then Rosemary was faced with another thing she hated about the Hinterlands.

She had to camp.

It was especially hard to stomach after getting to sleep in a big bed in a temperate climate.

But they couldn’t stay forever, and so off they went.

It would have been easier on horseback, but all they had was their lone horse and she couldn’t figure out a way to spin her being the only one riding.

So they walked, leading a horse behind them through the endless woods and mountains.

Varric sidled up beside her as they walked. “Did you know he doesn’t sleep?” He nodded his head off in Cole’s direction as he spoke.

She turned to look at Cole, who was off in his own world, carefully placing one foot exactly in front of the other, almost like he was walking a tightrope.

“I didn’t,” she said, “but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Me neither. Was hard to sleep with those owl eyes just staring at me though.”

She giggled. “I’m sure. Cassandra snores but at least I wasn’t being watched.”

“Small mercies.”

Cassandra huffed, coming back from the scouting mission she’d sent herself on. They all knew she just got antsy and needed to move, to feel like she was doing something. No one ever commented on it, allowing her the idiosyncrasy.

Cole was not privy to this silent agreement. “You never find anything. Searching, scouring, seeking. You have to look, someone has to. Someone has to find nothing so they don’t find something.”

“Can someone shut him up?” Cassandra barked.

Varric just laughed as Rosemary muttered, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Nonsense,” Varric announced. “You can’t get mad at the kid for being right.”

“I can get mad at him for whatever I’d like,” she said, and Cole watched her stomp off.

“She needs to be mad. Being mad is strong. Being wrong isn’t. It’s alright to be wrong sometimes.”

“It sure is, kid,” Varric replied. “I think someone should tell her that.

“I can do it,” he said, already taking a step towards her.

Varric caught him by the scruff of his jacket. “Better not.”

They got lost on their way back.

It was a miracle it hadn’t happened before considering how massive this place was. It was bound to happen eventually.

But now she was pretty sure they were off the edge of what was recorded on the map. She didn’t make any move to stop them, not wanting to argue with Cassandra, who was still leading them confidently forwards.

When they entered some sort of tunnel in the stone of a mountain, she knew for certain they were in the wrong place. They were meant to be going back home, how could Cassandra honestly think that this tunnel they’d never seen before was the right way?

But insisting they were going the wrong way would be too assertive and she’d rather someone else take the blame when they did realize, even if it took a few more days before they got back.

“The mind is unsure but the feet keep moving. It can’t be wrong if they keep moving,” Cole said as he stepped out of the arched pathway.

Cassandra turned to look at him before facing the front once more, barking back at him, “What does that mean?”

“You know, Seeker,” Varric said, “There’s no harm in backtracking a little. The terrain’s getting a little rough. I’m sure this way is fine for you, but some of us need a more familiar path.”

Before Cassandra could respond with anything, whether it would have been in agreement or something cruel directed at the dwarf, an ear piercing shriek sounded from overhead.

And then Rosemary looked up and saw a dragon flying over them.

She staggered back instantly, taking cover back in the mountain path. Varric and Cassandra followed while Cole just stood there, out in the open, staring up at the dragon.

“Kid,” Varric called, but he got no response.

Varric ran out and dragged Cole back to safety. He peeked his head out anyways, his hat almost falling off with how far he needed to tilt his head back to see it.

“She’s so big! Why can’t I look? She can’t hurt me. If she attacks, I won’t be there anymore.”

Varric chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. You know, I killed a dragon once.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “My ancestors actually hunted dragons.”

Rosemary was more than content not being able to see the dragon, retreating further into the safety of the mountain. “I didn’t even think they existed. At least not anymore.”

That seemed to upset Cassandra, her brow furrowing. “You did not believe? So you thought the old stories were what? Lies?”

The last thing she wanted was to start an argument with Cassandra. “I don’t know that I thought about it much at all.”

Varric looked back, fingers moving slightly over his crossbow, almost caressing it. “Should I fire a shot as we leave?” he asked. “Say I fought another dragon?”

Rosemary’s eyes widened but before she could tell him off, Cole said, “They’re all so hungry. That’s why she bites. Too many mouths to feed. No one wanders in anymore. She’s so high!”

His voice swapped effortlessly between the endless narration of others' thoughts to an almost breathy excitement at the dragon.

If she didn’t hate him so much, it might have been endearing.

After that, they sorted out how to get back on the right track, although Cassandra did insist upon regaling them with tales of her family's deeds. It seemed an instinct born largely of embarrassment, though she was unsure how being related to dragon killers absolved her of getting them lost.

At least she hoped they were back on the right track. She supposed she didn’t know. It was less obviously wrong, that was for certain, but she supposed it was no real guarantee. To be honest, she just wanted to find something that would help them to orient themselves on one of the maps. She figured so long as they didn’t run into any more dragons, they should be fine, even if they did take a couple more wrong turns.

They found no landmarks before the sun began to set and the four of them decided that they’d done enough walking for the day and settled down to camp.

She preferred this, the smaller campsites without Inquisition troops there. They had more supplies in those bigger camps but she could never shake the sense of unease that came with them.

Cassandra set up most of the camp, more than happy to do the heavy lifting all on her own.

Varric was trying to show Cole how to start a fire using a rock and a dagger he’d taken off Cole from wherever he’d been hiding them. The spirit couldn’t quite seem to get the hang of it, although that didn’t stop him from trying.

It was honestly a surprise that Cole didn’t have any magic, now that she thought about it. She was pretty sure mages got their magic through a connection with the fade, so surely someone who came from the fade should have at least a little magic, certainly enough to start a fire.

And yet he sat there, smacking the knife into the dark rock.

He managed to pull sparks a few times, but nothing ever seemed to come of it.

Rosemary had little to do herself and found herself just watching.

She also had no clue how to start a fire, but Varric hadn’t offered and so she was content to just watch.

As Cassandra finished setting up camp, Varric gently took the knife and stone from Cole, sparking it into the little pile of brush he’d formed and almost instantly starting up a small fire.

Cole drifted over to her as Varric stoked the flame into something more useful.

“I’m not good at it,” he said, crouching beside where she was sitting on the floor of the forest.

She shrugged. “Can’t be good at everything.”

“Who’s up for a round of Wicked Grace?” Varric asked as he stood up from the now roaring campfire.

Cassandra groaned and announced that she would be going to sleep, as they all should, to keep up their strength.

Rosemary shifted closer to Varric, asking, “How do you play? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Never heard of Wicked Grace?” he cried in mock offense. “Well, that needs to be fixed immediately. What about you, kid, you want to learn?”

“They all lie face down, never seeing another. Sometimes when he wins he smiles and that they can see. The ace is his favorite, lives in his palm until everything is perfect.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She gave him a dirty look. “You better not be palming cards in this game, Tethras, or I’ll bring the wrath of the Inquisition on you.”

“You’re beginners, I’ll teach you to cheat later.”

Wicked Grace was not all that difficult. He insisted that the rules were simple because it was the cheating that made it fun. She practiced palming cards as Cole announced everyone's cards in his little riddles.

Varric was clearly a practiced player, cheating or not. Cole seemed intent on gathering as many face cards from the deck as he could, repeatedly pulling cards from the middle despite Varric saying it was not allowed. Cole responded that this was his version of cheating and that Varric said they had to.

Varric had just sighed and allowed Cole to grab the Jack he’d held up his sleeve to add to his hand.

She ended up winning, not through any merit of her own but because she was better at understanding Cole’s card revealing riddles than Varric was. Cole was technically losing but he seemed to be playing his own game.

She won nothing, with Varric insisting they’d just been playing for fun and that no one should bet anything real while teaching someone to play.

Somehow, she imagined he’d be singing a different tune if he’d won.

“He would,” Cole said. “Fair’s fair, have to pay a tutors fee. You taught us either way, but we only pay if you win?”

“It was just a joke kid,” he said, giving Cole a pat on the back. “Now, you should both get to sleep. Cassandra will kick my ass if you’re both dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep,” Cole said.

“Do me a favor? Give it a shot anyway.”

Cole nodded, content with the new task he’d been given.

They both went to their bedrolls, Cole just sitting atop his while she tucked into hers and went to bed, the sound of the crackling fire sending her to sleep.

She woke up first. She usually did, always on alert.

Varric and Cassandra were still fast asleep. Cassandra tended to wake with the sunrise, immediately setting off to work along with the light. Varric always needed to be dragged out of bed, saying that surely they could afford to relax for a few minutes out of their day.

Rosemary woke before the sun did. Sneaking hours, she’d called them when she was younger. The term felt juvenile now, but at the very least they were aptly named.

Cole was nowhere near his bedroll at all. She spun around with a yawn, looking for him in the treeline, before seeing him crouched on the ground, a spark flying from his hands.

She blinked a few times, willing the world to come into focus as she forced the sleep out of her eyes. He was sitting there with what she could now recognize as that rock in his hand, the other striking the dagger against it.

She ambled over to him, sitting beside him and his little pile of dry leaves.

“Careful,” she said with a yawn. “You’ll set the forest on fire.”

His nose wrinkled up, his eyes fully focused on the task at hand. “I want to learn but it's hard, hard to remember when it's not what I was made to do.”

“Who cares?” she asked, leaning back on her arms to watch him. “Varric can already do it, you don’t need to learn.”

“Varric remembers,” he said. “Everything you say. Everything from me too. He files it away for stories and thoughts and because he cares. But I care and it’s still hard.”

“That’s fine. Unless you decide to take up writing, I think you’ll be fine without them.”

He huffed, dropping the rock and sheathing his knife under his jacket. She noted where it was being hidden, glad that it was stored somewhere and wasn’t some magical weapon he could summon.

“You don’t understand. You remember too, but it’s because you're scared. It means something.”

She hated this sort of thing, the emotional talk about caring that he always cycled back to. Maybe she did want him to remember more. At least that way they’d have more to talk about.

She was spared from having to respond by the sun waking from behind the horizon, Cassandra following close behind it.

She kicked Varric gently as she rose and he groaned. “It’s not even light yet, surely we can sleep at least until we can see.”

Cassandra did not let him and before they knew it, they were off again.

It wasn’t long before they reached familiar land and Rosemary was properly assured that they were back on track.

Her favorite part of traveling over familiar land was that she was guaranteed to not have to face a single rift. They walked for half a day of steady, uneventful travel before they had returned and no one else so much as tried to take their heads off.

Bull was at the gates. His face lit up when he saw her and she felt her heart stutter in her chest.

She couldn’t do this.

It didn’t matter. She would do it because she had to.

She greeted him with a smile, following him happily into the tavern.

His Chargers cheered as she walked in and she pushed her hair behind her ear, feigning self-consciousness.

A drink was thrust at her and she took it happily, sipping at it carefully so she wouldn’t be too comfortable, still ready to carefully prepare reactions as needed.

The other Chargers kept talking to her. She understood that it was so she would feel welcome, but she really wished they would leave her alone.

And Bull was all over her. He almost felt pushy tonight. Or maybe she was tired from the trip, leaning into him a little too hard, not being careful enough about the signals she was sending.

She kept spying Cole out of the corner of her eyes, watching carefully. No one else ever seemed to see him. She supposed it was probably a spirit thing because he was incredibly conspicuous in his looming.

She wasn’t sure how long it was before Bull pulled her off to his room. She felt a little bit too far gone considering how little she’d drunk.

She didn’t act it, her responses coming naturally as could be from years of training.

She had mostly stopped listening to him, at least actively. He said something to her about how she could stop him. She didn’t listen, would just go along with it all. She knew how this worked. She’d been here before.

She nodded along. It had long since stopped feeling real, this part of it. She had practiced it endlessly, knew instinctively exactly how she should respond, and did it without so much as having to process it.

She was pretty sure he wanted to hit her. That was fine too, another thing she’d long since become accustomed to. Plenty of men got off on it, although Bull did not seem like one who wanted her to show how much she hated it.

She played the wooed maiden, entranced by everything he did, completely overrun by pleasure.

It was humiliating. She preferred when they let her show she didn’t like it. It made her less embarrassed after, at least.

She barely even recognized when it was over, too far inside of herself.

She felt herself smiling, her throat a little hoarse, although she couldn’t remember what had caused it.

She grinned and gave him a kiss between his horns as she said something about wanting to go take a bath

He let her leave with little protest. He at least allowed her that small dignity

She wandered off in a haze, not moving towards her own room. He might check on her if that was where she went.

She ended up in a little shack, half exposed to the cold and not nearly dressed enough for it

She had no idea why it had hit her so hard this time. She’d been here a hundred times before, it was a well worn tool of hers. It was stupid for it to remind her of before, when she was small. It wasn’t a fight for survival here. She could reap real rewards from it now. She knew the repercussions of her actions, knew what she stood to gain and how it might fall through and not pan out the way she planned. She chose to do this. What right did she have to feel so cold?

And she was fine. She’d slept with men for protection before, would do it again when she left this place. Would do it more, probably, with less of a bargaining chip than her vital, glowing hand provided her.

She refused to cry, would not allow it. It was a foolish instinct. Nothing productive would come from it.

She always felt worse afterwards. Weaker. Not like the put on show of weakness she wore like armour. No, that was real weakness, a refusal to do what needed to be done and be able to be content with it.

Warriors didn’t cry when they killed nor when they were injured. Mages did not cry when their magic stung, ripping into people as it tore themselves apart, just a little. What right did she have?

“They do cry,” said a voice beside her, and she looked up at Cole from the floor.

She hadn’t even realized she’d sunk to the floor, too lost in her thoughts to take in anything around her.

He dropped to the ground beside her, something heavy and woolen being wrapped around her shoulders as he did.

She hadn’t realized she was shaking until the warmth began to set in. Even as the cold faded away, leaving her bones, the shaking didn’t stop. She didn’t know how to make it stop.

“I can get you something,” he said. “A hot drink, warm you from the inside. That’s where the shaking comes from. I can’t take it away but maybe the warmth will make it less.”

He went to stand up and she grabbed his arm, keeping him on the ground with her.

She rested her head on his shoulder as he settled back down, furious at herself for being comforted by him.

Furious at herself for needing to be comforted at all.

He shifted nervously beneath her for a while before settling down, his hand sliding over to give her arm a squeeze.

She wondered whose head he’d pulled that idea of comfort from.

But still, for some impossible to understand reason, she was content sitting there beside him, feeling numb no matter how long the blanket sat around her shoulders.

And then the sun was shining through a broken roof, the morning having come after she’d slipped unknowingly out of consciousness.

When she woke up she was alone, surrounded by blankets with a pile of dried leaves and a familiar rock lying a few feet from her.

#dai cole #cole dai #cole dragon age #dragon age cole #dragon age inquisition #dai #colemance #where the light enters #I love this chapter so much #it is extremely heavy on the unreliable narrator stuff

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

Text

Play It Out (2)

Part 1

Eddie turned around and immediately let out a sound like a leaking party balloon when the corset dug into his sides. "Yeaaaah...that's not ideal."

Steve scoffed and ran his hand through his impressive mane. His...really, really impressive mane. Eddie thought he would have previously noticed if Steve's hair was this big, but apparently he hadn't. Or there was something very different...very wrong. Steve hasn't noticed yet. "You think? I can't believe that we survived another dimension, mind battling shit, monsters with no faces and a giant fucking smoke spider, and then we get what, sucked into a haunted VHS for kids?" He sighed deeply and shook his head. "Can it get any worse?"

"Um..." Eddie gave a nervous chuckle, staring above Steve's eyes, where the head shaking revealed...something. "I think it just has." Reaching out, he removed Steve's hands from that incredibly fluffy hair and ran his own fingers through it, seeking with his fingertips until... "Yeah, so...um. Were you by any chance hiding horns in that Hawkins-famous hairdo or are these new?"

The look of horror on Steve's face was priceless. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." Steve rushed to the nearest window to examine his reflection. And sure enough, a pair of impressive horns was peeking from the rich brown waves, not large enough to be visible all the way but enough to make him look like a... "Hey Eddie? Did you see what fairy tales were on that tape?"

Eddie, crumpled in his yellow gold dress on the ground and currently battling with the high heels that were firmly secured around his ankles, shook his head. "Nah, man. Not that I'd be able to tell. My old man wasn't exactly the 'bedtime story' type. But since I'm wearing the worst clothes in the history of humankind and some supernatural asshole twisted my hair into a bun, I'd say I'm a princess." He shook his head, valiantly tugging on the sparkly shoe. "The stuff I never thought I'd say."

"Great. Because surprise, my parents weren't big on fairy tales either. So we're going in blind again, how do you even survive in this...whatever this is, if we don't know what story it is?" Steve finally abandoned touching his horns and unsuccessfully tried to comb his hair over them. It only made them stand out more and if Eddie wasn't engaged in a battle of his life with an ankle strap, he would have laughed. He finally managed to tug both of his shoes off and flung them to the distance, bending at the waist to stand up, when he winced in pain.

"I think I broke a bone," wheezed Eddie and clutched his side. The smooth fabric of the corset was cool under his fingers and he frowned in disgust. Why the fuck was he the one in yellow when the color made him look like a scrawny canary? Meanwhile Steve was made for this bright yellow shiny monstrosity.

"What..." Steve looked horrified and immediately supported him, gently touching his abdomen, feeling a strange lump. "Shit, Eddie, that's bad, does it hurt?"

Eddie bit his lip, nodding. "Like a motherfucker," he muttered and pointed towards his back. "Can you get rid of this crap? Untie the corset? Like, five minutes ago?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure." His fingers quickly worked the corset open and gently tugged it loose, along with the upper part of the dress.

"Thank fuck." Eddie tore the offending piece of clothing from his chest, glaring daggers at it. It took him a while to notice that Steve was staring at his bare chest, concerned and...maybe a little flustered? Eddie would have liked to think so, but now he was too busy taking deep breaths. Small waists were overrated. "See anything you like, Harrington?"

Steve blinked, eyes still glued to Eddie's body. "What? Oh, no- well yes, but...sorry, what were you..." He took a step closer and gently laid his fingers onto Eddie's rib cage. "Where's that broken bone?"

"Uh...here?" Eddie waved the untied corset in Steve's face and, realizing the misunderstanding, laughed out loud. "Don't look at me like that, it was serious. Have you ever had a piece of plastic break and stab you right in your insides? Cheap clothes for a cheap fairy tale, I tell you!"

Steve visibly relaxed but he still punched his shoulder before adopting the oh so familiar angry mother stance. "Seriously, Munson, couldn't you have been a bit more specific? Just a little bit? Never scare me like that again, you hear me, I was this close to carrying you-"

His tirade was cut short by Eddie leaning into him and pressing his palm over Steve's mouth. They stood face to face, Eddie still with his hair tied back and only in the frilly white pantalettes since he managed to slip out of the skirt too. And maybe it would have been awkward, but Eddie's dark eyes were open wide as he leaned next to Steve's ear and whispered: "So, I don't want to freak you out even more, but I'm quiiite convinced a teacup just walked through the door."

Steve rolled his eyes and, when Eddie's hand didn't move, actually licked his palm. "Don't be ridiculous. It probably just rolled off a table or something," he said as Eddie nearly shrieked and proceeded to wipe his hand on the white fabric. "Maybe you haven't heard, but teacups can't walk-"

He was preparing to say more, to chastise Eddie for his ridiculous ideas. But then the door opened again and so did Steve's mouth, hanging open in comical surprise as a round teapot wobbled inside the door, rattling and calling in a high voice: "Dusty! Dusty, where did you go?"

Eddie crossed his arms and scoffed. "Yeah, Steve. Continue, I'm all ears about stuff that," he formed quotation marks in the air, "isn't possible."

Tag list: @f1ct1onwh0re @gregre369 @estrellami-1 @awkwardgravity1, @stevesworldxx, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @eboyawstenn, @theseaofdespair @mightbeasleep

#steddie #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things drabble #stranger things #and before you tell me there wouldn't be multiple movies on a single VHS #imagine like 30-40 min long shortened fairy tales for kids #as a series #also yes I know Beauty and the beast came out later #but guess what #this low budget version has talking stuff in the castle and yellow dresses too #because I said so #there

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dsireland86 · 10 months

Text

There is Beauty in the Pain: Chapter 4 Pt.2

"Cause your love is fire warm I'll be the calm babe, before the storm You got me fallin' in love, in this bad dream" -bad dream- Nerve

TAG LIST: @lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory

Noah:

“She’s a wreck, Jolly. I don’t know how she’s managed a normal life with all the baggage she carries.” I was pacing the living room floor back and forth, hands on my hips, then to my hair, then to my jaw then back to my hips. “Dude, calm down before you become almost as wrecked as Sophie. She’s okay now; she’s safe. Relax.” Nicholas was right. I needed to relax. “I know, I know,” I agreed, flopping down on the couch next to him. Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair again and laid my head back. “You should see all the fucking bruising on her ribs and stomach. They stretch around her sides to her back.” I choked back sob, afraid to let the others know how affected I was by Sophie’s appearance, although I’m pretty sure they could already tell by the way I was acting. “Shit, that bad? He really fucked her up then,” Nick said, seeming to be seriously shocked. “Did you not think it was that bad?” I asked, my voice taut. “No, I knew it was that bad, I just, I don’t know, guessed it wasn’t that bad,” he confessed with a shrug as his brows drew together in concern. I turned my head away, laying it back down on the couch. “What a fucking mess,” I breathed, dragging my hands down my face. “It’ll be fine, Noah; Sophie will be fine. She’s got us now.” Glancing up at Jolly, I wished I could have his optimism, but I didn’t. My gut was telling me this was only going to get worse.

Sophie:

I was pulled from a deep sleep, awakened by the intense pain and pressure in my body. Even though I should've been used to it, I wasn’t. Healing sometimes hurt more than the actual abuse and it was those moments that always made me break down and close up into myself. But oddly enough, this time I didn’t feel the need to; I didn’t want to. Maybe it was because subconsciously I knew Noah was around and the idea somehow made things a little easier. But if there was anything I knew for sure from past experiences it was that laying around after being used as a human punching bag always made things worse. I needed to get up. Taking a deep breath, I used the muscles that were screaming at me not to to sit up and toss my legs over the side of the bed. I seethed in frustration, angry and disappointed with myself that all of this was a result of me not being strong enough to fight Perry off. I should have been. I should’ve been ready for him, no matter what.

The quick, sudden breaths I took burned as they penetrated my lungs and I wished that the arms that held me last time were holding me now. For some unknown reason to me, I desperately wanted Noah; I needed him. “I can do this,” I told myself, taking short breaths through my nose and lifting myself up. I cried out softly, pushing through the pain, and the longer I stood and straightened myself, the more the pain subsided and I felt better. I exhaled with a sigh, looking around for the door.

“Dude, you have no idea what it’s like being up in the back with barely any light. I can’t see shit,” Folio laughed. “Wasn’t that how you hurt your knuckle that one show?” “Yeah, I wacked it with the fucking stick so hard I thought maybe I broke it.” Laughter rose from down below as I walked out into the dark, empty hallway. I was hesitant to leave the room, unsure if I was ready for anything; I wasn’t, but I had to at least try. I peered over the side of the wall and looked down, recognizing the three faces: laughing, passing popcorn, and watching Anime. But there was one face I didn't see. Where was Noah? My head raced with all kinds of negative thoughts about him and why he wasn’t here, none of which I knew were true. But that was how my anxiety worked in my head most of the time. It took a situation, made up shit, and ran with it. The end result was always horrible. Breathing deeply through my nose, I sat down with my back against the wall, fixing my mind on things I knew were fact; my name, my age, my phone number, things like that. Then I thought about the color of my eyes and my hair, then somehow switching over to the color of Noah’s hair and eyes both brown; a warm sort of brown like smooth chocolate. How was it that he kept finding his way into my thoughts every time I needed him? I scowled, trying to think about something else, but failed. Noah was it, the perfect distraction away from my anxiety attack and I swear at one point I felt the feeling of his arms around me. “Wishful thinking” I told myself. Getting up off the floor, I made the quick decision to return to the room. I wasn’t ready for all of this yet. I needed more time.

"Sophie!" I jumped, startled by the calling out of my name, looking down to see Jolly peering up at me. Shit. Before I could process anything the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs wrecked my plan as Jolly appeared, not even the slightest bit out of breath even though I was pretty sure he took the stairs two at a time.

"Sophie, hi," Jolly greeted, his smile wide and bright. It was hard not to smile back at the tall, handsome Swede. Jolly had one of the sweetest smiles I’d ever seen and it made me feel less anxious. “Hey, Jolly,” I replied, only glancing at him before dropping my gaze. I didn’t know how my appearance looked, but from past experience, I knew it wasn’t pretty. “You’re up and walking around. That’s a good thing,” he expressed with a slight grin. I could tell Jolly was trying to be encouraging, “I guess so,” I replied. “How are you? Besides all of this,” he said, waving his hands around between us. I shrugged, not really having an answer. “Honestly?” “Of course,” he replied sympathetically. The evidence of my sadness became visible as a few single tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’m scared, Jolly. I have no idea what to do right now. I don’t know if I should stay, if I’m even allowed to stay, or if I should go home, assuming Perry isn’t there anymore.” The words kept rolling off my tongue as the anxiety in my chest rose, making me feel like I was starting to spin out of control again.

“Okay, hey, hey, hey, listen to me, relax, Sweets, you’re okay,” Jolly asserted, pulling me into his arms carefully and stroking my hair. He pressed my head gently against his chest making me feel that safety and security I’d been longing for earlier, and even though he wasn’t Noah, he was a perfect substitute. I took some deep breaths while gripping the back of his shirt until I calmed down. “See, you’re okay,” Jolly repeated as he pulled away to look me in the eyes. I nodded, wiping my tears aways with the sleeves of Noah’s large hoodie I’d forgotten I was still wearing. “It’s a little big on you,” Jolly chuckled, eyeing the length of the hoodie that reached almost to my knees and the sleeves that protruded out way longer than my hands. I laughed, finally feeling calm and together. “I was cold.” “Sure you were, it’s okay. Noah won’t mind. You good?” I nodded, tucking some hair behind my ear."Come on," he urged, holding out his hand to me and nodding towards the stairs. I was reluctant at first, but decided to trust Jolly despite my feelings. He tucked me snuggly into his side, wrapping his arm around my waist to safely secure me close to his body and led me down the stairs."You still good?" he asked when we reached the bottom. I shot him a painful smile, clenching my teeth. “Yup.” "Liar," he chuckled.

Walking into the living room, lots of eyes turned and looked at us. I lowered mine so I didn't have to look at them, knowing I couldn't handle the scrutiny. Jolly led me to a long, white sofa where Nicholas was sitting, and I sat down next to him, feeling very self conscious and nervous. Usually the day after, I would lay in bed and avoid the world, and try to process everything that happened, but this time that wasn’t an option. I was quickly realizing with these guys, I didn’t have very many options; and that was a good thing.

“Hey beautiful,” Nick greeted, reaching over and placing his warm hand over mine. I shifted around, trying to get more comfortable while Jolly took the chair across from Nick. “Here,” Nick said, placing a pillow behind my back for support. “How’s that?” I sighed as I leaned back, feeling a hundred times better. “Better?” “Mmmhmm, much,” forcing a smile and sitting back with better ease. “You’re awake!” I looked up to see Folio coming out from the kitchen, holding another bowl of popcorn and wearing such a sweet smile that my heart skipped a beat. I returned the smile, quickly looking away out of self conscious fear. “Don’t worry, you’re still pretty,” he sweetly complimented, handing over the bowl still in his hands to Nick. Folio was a very easy going guy, never critical, never judging, just understanding and supportive. He reminded me of an oak tree; dependable, resilient, and strong. He took a seat next to me, our shoulders pressed together, and at first he just sat there with me with no interest at all in talking. Then he reached over and took my hand and placed it between his. They were slightly cooler than Nick’s and more calloused, but the feeling of mine tucked safely between them was indescribable. I raised my eyes to meet his eyes, seeing nothing but concern in them. “Be honest,” he advised, biting his lip then looking away. “How are you?” When he looked back, his mouth was taunt and I knew he was thinking of things that weren’t sitting well with him. I examined his face and all the little things about it that made him so irresistible, one of them being the small gold hoop that sat snuggly in the bottom left of his nose, and the other was how his unaligned teeth made his lips look so pouty and soft. I smiled and he noticed, cheeks turning slightly red. Sighing, I swallowed, trying to make my dry mouth moist, thinking of how to properly put my thoughts and feelings into the right words. I couldn’t though and since Folio asked for honesty, that’s what he was going to get. “Like shit,” I answered bluntly. Nick and Jolly both snickered and Folio grinned. “Honest enough?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “Honest enough,” he repeated with his grin growing into a wide smile.

The sound of the front door closing disrupted our small reunion as Noah walked into the living room, wearing a pair of band merch joggers and a hoodie. He was sweaty, the moisture covering his forehead visible even from where I was sitting and out of breath. He had yet to look up and notice me, as he placed his earbuds back into their case, but man did I notice him. His tall presence loomed before me, looking like something that had just walked out of a wet dream. My core tightened just from the sight of him. With a lump in my throat, I brought my hand to my neck, quickly diverting my gaze away from him and began to nervously play with my skin. Even though my mind and body had been longing for Noah since our last encounter, I suddenly found myself uneasy. “Hey,” his voice called to me, soft yet low and deep. My eyes snapped up to him, finding his dark brown eyes intently fixed on me. There was a look of relief in them, yet I could see the tension. He looked worried. “Hey,” I answered. At first we just stared at one another, but then he walked over, offering his hands to me. He opened and closed them quickly, implying he wanted me to take them. Obliging him, he helped me up, steadying me before placing both long hands on my hips. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked, looking away. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I’m happy,” he stated, plainly. “Do you stare at every girl like that just because you’re happy?” I quickly glanced at him, seeing the grin on his face. “Just you.” It felt like there were a million butterflies in my stomach. “Nice hoodie by the way.” I looked down, completely forgetting again that I was still wearing it. I thought that maybe I'd overstepped a boundary and Noah was upset, but the smile on his face said otherwise. I couldn't hide the shy grin on my face, but I turned away just the same. Noah leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, before wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. I didn't hesitate to lay my head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne, and slide my own arms around his waist, suddenly feeling a small sense of possessiveness which was utterly ridiculous. Noah was not nor would he ever be “mine”. But I couldn't overlook the fact of how easy it was for the two of us to share such intimate affections with each other either. “You should sit; take the pressure off your feet. Standing too much might cause more swelling.” I looked at him, puzzled. “And how do you know that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. His coy smile made me feel so weak. “Doesn’t matter. Now sit.” He pointed to the spot next to Ruffilo. “I'm gonna get you some pain medicine and a glass of water. Are you hungry?” I shook my head, thanking Noah, before he walked off towards the kitchen.

I was at peace; completely relaxed despite the excruciating pain ravaging my body. Folio left his spot next to me, saying something about having to do his laundry to which Jolly asked if he would do his too. Folio grumbled and rolled his eyes, but in the end agreed. Nick, however, was still next to me, busy sketching flowers in the notebook on his lap. “Those are beautiful,” I commented on the simple, yet intricate detail on the vines and roses. Nick’s charming smile did something to me. The way his soft green eyes twinkled when he looked at me took the edge off my nerves. “I can give you one if you want.” “A flower?” He chuckled. “Well yes, but as a tattoo. Do you have any?” “Yeah I have a few.” Nick raised his eyebrows. “Really?” “What? Why is that so surprising?” He shook his head, turning back to his work on the paper. “You don’t look like a girl who would have tattoos, that’s all.” Jolly laughed as I scrunched up my face in confusion. “Holy shit, Nick, judge much,” he chided. “What! I’m just saying.” Nick dropped his pencil and looked at Jolly. “So rude,” Jolly teased, shaking his head. “She has three tattoos,” Noah’s deep voice startled me as he appeared from the kitchen, holding a glass of water and some crackers, and my pain medicine. “And you know this how, exactly?” I stared at Noah, puzzled that he would know such a detail about me that most didn’t; not even Alex. “Who do you think got you into those clothes,” he pointed out, handing me the stuff in his hands, his magnetic eyes trailing me up and down. I licked my lips, wincing when my tongue skimmed the swollen cut on my lip, trying my best to steady the nervousness rousing up inside me. Not only was Noah implying he saw me in only my underwear, but that also meant he saw all of the bruising on my body, and that didn’t sit well with me.

Taking the medicine and handing the glass back to Noah, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again knowing what he saw. I was too embarrassed. “Anyway,” Nick chimed in, quickly changing the direction of the conversation. As I listened to him I risked a glance at Noah only to find that he wasn’t there anymore, and a part of me was glad. I wasn’t ready for that yet. I wasn’t ready for all of Noah’s sympathy and words concerning my bruises. They would fade in time and eventually be forgotten and when all was said and done, the trauma of it all would too. I knew this, but Noah didn’t and I had to consider that; for his sake. “Now that I know you like tattoos, I can do one if you want.” I smiled. “I would love that, Nick. One of those?” nodding to the paper in front of him. “Sure. The ivy would look sick on you.” The excitement in his voice was adorable. Discussing tattoos was obviously something Nick liked doing. “That’s what I was thinking of too.” We both chuckled and Nick went on drawing, but I couldn’t escape the uneasy feeling I had. Noah was upset. I saw it on his face and it hurt me that he was. But he would just have to learn that once something bad happened to me, I didn't like talking about it. What was done was done. Besides, none of it was his problem nor his burden to bear.

“Are you watching the next season or can I put something on?” Nicholas snatched the remote from Jolly quicker than lightning. “Don't even, bro,” Nick growled. “There's one more season left and we're watching it.” “Ughh, fuck Nick, come on man, no more Anime. You can watch it later. Let me pick something.” “Okay, fine, Sophie gets to pick.” I popped my head up from Folio's shoulder, who had finally come back from laundry duty, shaking it quickly. “Nope, I'm good. Honest. Let Jolly choose.” “See,” Jolly said hotly, grabbing the remote from Nick. As Jolly picked out something new to watch, Noah appeared freshly cleaned and looking more relaxed, holding a thick fluffy red blanket. His hair was still wet with pieces of it falling over his forehead and eyes and it made me squeeze my thighs together because of the unholy feeling he was giving me. “Here, I brought this for you,” he spoke softly, holding out the blanket, but I didn’t take it. Instead, for some stupid reason, I hung my head and to avoid letting Noah see the tears that had formed in my eyes. Nick got up and Noah sat down, gently laying the blanket around my shoulders. I shivered from its warmth that created a warm barrier between me and the cool air. Noah was still, our knees practically touching, and to say my body wasn't screaming internally would be a lie.

I took a deep breath, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him and slumped into the warmth and security of the blanket. The feeling of his hand slipping over my thigh caused me to stiffen. Noah retracted it, but I grabbed it quickly before he could take it away entirely. “It's not what you think,” I said softly as I drank in the beauty and handsomeness of his face. His full, pouty lips, the freckles over his nose, his dark almond shaped eyes, they all did something to me I'd never felt before and weakened all senses. His eyes searched mine, looking for answers that I believed he would never find, but those eyes saw right through my tough-girl act; they saw through my walls.

Tears threatened to fall again so I dropped my gaze, breaking the connection and retreating into myself. I didn't deserve to get close to anyone, let alone Noah. I was toxic. I was a mess, and I wasn't about to drag this perfect man down with me to the gates of hell and force him to battle shit he had no obligation to fight.

"He's never going to hurt you again, Sophie," Noah whispered in my hair.

I stiffened and tears that I’d been fighting finally flowed down my cheeks. “It makes my blood run cold when I think about what he's done to you; all the pain, all the hurt. It's not right.” Tears dripped from my chin. “I'd give anything to battle this fight for you.” I shook my head in confusion? “Why?” I asked a little louder than I meant to. “Why would you want to, Noah!?” I jumped up from the sofa, shrugging off the blanket. “I'm a fucked up mess, Noah. I'm nothing but a broken vessel, all used up, battle worn and tired.” By now the tears were falling faster than I meant for them to and my words were more hurtful and mean than intended. “You owe me nothing. None of you do. And I can't,” I paused for a moment and as the tears and crying caught up with me, I began to sob uncontrollably. The shit that had been pent up the last forty-eight hours was now coming out, as if the dam had broken. Folio got up and stood beside me and for a moment just stood there, but when I couldn't catch my breath, he took me into his arms and there I cried until my throat hurt. The reality of my life was all coming to a head and I couldn't or maybe just didn't want to, deal with it all anymore. I wanted out. I wanted to die. I screamed this into Folio's chest as he held me tightly. I gasped for air and when it didn't come, I began to panic. The anxiety attack came harder and faster than ever. I slipped from Folio's embrace and dropped to the floor hard, and there I sobbed completely and utterly confused about everything. “Shhhh… It’s okay. I've got you.” Noah's arms snaked around me and wrapped me up tight against him. His body covered mine, covering me like a shield. “I'll keep you safe, Sophie . I'll shelter you. No matter the cost.”

CHAPTER 4 PT.3

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens cult #fanfic

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proudfreakmetarusonikku · 2 years

Note

55 for the whumper dialogue thing? :)

TW: Torture, abuse, kidnapping, threats, suffocation, references to mutilation, drowning, and electrocution, victim blaming

Tommy's face was buried in the snow, white and blood-red all he could see. He couldn’t breathe, head pushed down hard until was surrounded with nothing but ice and his own blood to breathe in and something pressing down on his ribs hard enough to make every beat of his heart agonising.

He'd had nightmares every fucking night about what would happen when- not if, when- Dream would break out, yet this was so much worse than anyone, so horrifying he knew he couldn’t be asleep. Dream was more frightening than anything his stupid little brain could come up with.

“Oh, Tommy!” Dream's voice was sing-song sweet as he suddenly yanked hard enough on Tommy's hair to tear out locks of it, pulling his face up just enough to catch a single breath, to deny him even the known horror of death. “I caught you.”

The pressure keeping Tommy pinned like a butterfly to a board suddenly abated, but he was far too exhausted and in too much pain to even consider moving, just curling up in on himself as Dream laughed.

“Not even trying to run anymore, aren’t you? Realised that it’s pointless, I guess. I'd almost be disappointed- I was enjoying myself. But it’s fine, Tommy, I have so much more fun things we can do! Again and again and again, forever and ever. I had a lot of time to think in the prison, and Quackity taught me so many fun games. What should I start with?”

He hummed, giving Tommy a moment to let his mind process what exactly he'd threatened- no, promised- before continuing. “I could break your leg and leave it to fester for so fucking long I’ll have to cut it off! Or I could tear out your eye, or tear off your ear. I could pull out your teeth and your nails with pliers, or I could electrocute you again and again until all you could do is curl up in a ball and cry. Ooh, or maybe I could burn you with cigars, or drown you in the sink, or stab you and just twist that knife around, real slow.”

Tommy must have been crying, because he could feel gentle hands wipe away his tears, Dream's voice going back to that sing-song tone. “Aww, Tommy, don’t be a baby. I’m just kidding, y’know? I'm not as bad as Quackity, so even though you deserve everything that fucking monster did back to you, I won’t do it. It’s no fun to hurt someone out of anger.”

“No, y’know what I’m going to do?” Tommy could hear a smile in Dream's voice- the cruel sort. “I'm not gonna lay a single finger on you. No, I’m going to be nice! I'll give you a nice bed, a roof over your head, all the food you can eat… and I'm going to find every single one of your friends, Tommy, and I’m going to make you watch as I do all that to them. Now, who should I start with? Tubbo seems like the obvious choice, but maybe Wilbur would-“

“Please. Dream, no, please.” Tommy's voice was raspy, and it hurt to speak even at a tone below a whisper. “Don’t- don't-“ He cut himself off with a sob.

“I can’t hear you, Tommy~ Mind repeating that for me?” Dream laughed, the sort of laugh that sounded like a child playing with their toys. Not cruel, not evil- something far worse. “I mean, if I can’t hear you, I'll just have to guess. Maybe you said ‘yes, Dream, please hurt my friends.’ I mean, you’re selfish enough, you got me tortured, but I do like you, so I’d just have to oblige, and it’d all be your fault-“

“No, no, no, don’t hurt them. You- you can hurt me. All you want. Just- just-“ Tommy broke off into pained coughs at talking at even a barely audible voice, more blood clouding out the snow until it was pure red. “I'll be good, promise. Like Exile. Just- if you don’t hurt them- if you just hurt me, I’ll- I'll do anything you want. Please…”

“Aww, look. You really can behave. I didn’t know you had that in you, you lil' brat.” Something in Dream's tone sounded almost Wilbur-like at that, and it made Tommy want to throw up. “Okay, okay. If you really want to play, who am I to turn that down? We're gonna have so much fun. Just remember, Tommy. You asked for this.”

As blood loss and pure exhaustion sent Tommy into the blissful nothing of unconsciousness, all he could hear was laughter.

#my writing #dream smp au #primeboys (derogatory)#tw torture #tw abuse #tw kidnapping #tw threats #tw suffocation #tw mentioned electrocution #tw mentioned mutilation #Tw mentioned drowning #Tw victim blaming

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barikinbear · 2 years

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Short story inspired by fan art from @happyfoxx-art

https://happyfoxx-art.tumblr.com/post/693882111587926016/when-your-dumb-dumb-twin-wont-stop-leaving-the

DO NOT TAG AS T-CEST OR I’LL BURN ALL YOUR TOILET PAPER

Enjoy!

Spoilers for the movie 🎥

Warning: mentions of severe injuries and nightmares

Donnie dragged his hand down his face. This was the fifth time tonight.

What didn’t Leo understand about ‘stay put and let your injuries heal or else?’

Apparently all of it.

“But Don, I’m losing my mind laying in bed all the time! It’s soooo boring!” Leo complained. Never mind the fact that he couldn’t even walk in a straight line without Donnie’s help. No, he was bored and so that meant he could walk around with several bruised ribs, a slightly cracked shell and a severely sprained ankle.

“I didn’t ask if it was boring. I said to stay in bed and I meant it,” Donnie said, slowly guiding his aggravating twin back to his room.

Leo muttered something under his breath that Donnie chose to ignore. Times like these, he had to pick his battles.

Though it seemed like it was just one continuous battle of keeping Leo resting in his room. It had only been a little over a week since everything happened. Leo needed time to recover.

“Once the swelling in your ankle goes down, maybe I’ll let you come out to the living room for a little while. But you’re never going to get better if you keep doing stuff like this.”

“I know, I know. I just hate being alone.” Leo’s gaze was cast downward as Donnie gently lowered him to his bed.

Donnie held back a sigh. Too many times Donnie had come to check on Leo, only to find him a shaking, crying mess because of nightmares. They were lucky Leo hadn’t hurt himself further yet. A nagging fear told Donnie it was only a matter of time before Leo flung himself to the floor or smacked his head against the wall.

If the hours Donnie spent calming his twin down were any indication, it could get that bad.

Donnie sat down near the head of Leo’s bed and arranged his pillows against the wall so he could lean against them. Leo watched him with squinted, bloodshot eyes.

“If this is the only way to keep you where you’re supposed to be, then so be it,” Donnie declared, holding his arms out to his tired brother.

A smile broke out on Leo’s face, the first Donnie had seen since they yanked him from the prison dimension.

“Thanks, D.” Leo draped himself over Donnie’s torso, the side of his face pressed against Donnie’s plastron. Just like he used to do when they were little.

Donnie pulled Leo’s comforter up to cover the bandages on Leo’s shell. He still couldn’t look at them too long without his anger boiling over. Sometimes he fantasized about throwing something worse than a giant drill at that monster who dared hurt Leo.

But he didn’t dwell on those thoughts for long. Forget the past, as they say. Look forward to what’s ahead.

He wrapped his arms around his lovingly difficult twin, holding him as tightly as he could without hurting him.

Leo shifted slightly, moving his arms so they were wrapped around Donnie’s waist. He mumbled something under his breath again, but this time Donnie heard it.

He laid his hand on the back of Leo’s head, gently rubbing with his thumb.

“I love you, too, dum dum.”

#rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leonardo #tmnt fanfiction #rise fanfic #rise fluff #tmnt fluff

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cloudteawrites · 3 years

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chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?��

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

#thebtswritersclub #hybridbtsnetwork #bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader

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103hailey · 3 years

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The calm after the storm (Silco/reader)

Warning sensitive topics, cleaning of wounds, mentions of death.

This is unbelievable. How does one even go about this. Today’s luck could not have been any worse. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed, getting a cold breakfast, all on top of a mission gone wrong. The one rule was to never come back empty handed. It was simple, he had already done so much for you the least you could do was pay up.

Walking up the stairs was dreadful. A weight placed on your shoulders pulling you down with each step. Guilt was the only thing flowing throughout your mind. Was it the bruised legs or the cut on your left rib cage that made each step sting. There was no avoiding him. Stepping up to the door you take a deep breath and push it open.

“You’re late.” He opened coldly with the back of the chair to you. This is already not a good sign.

“I ran into some problems that put me off track sir, it won’t happen again.”

“What kind of problems did you find that can leave you bleeding on my floor?” He moved the chair to look straight into your eyes like a hawk looking at its dinner.

“The shipment was compromised and a battle broke loose. They took half and left us bleeding in the streets. I didn’t get the worst of it, I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm. Sit.”

“Sir I’m”

“I said, sit.” With that he got up and moved to a cabinet to pull out a med kit. You moved to sit on the couch and pulled off your jacket knowing there was no way of walking out. With his back still to you it’s hard to not admire the way he carries himself. You can feel his power and control from across the room.

“Darling don’t tell me they hit your head, you know it’s not polite to stare.” You look away trying to find the green window more interesting. He moved towards the couch with confident steps and places himself next to you.

“Lift this up for me.”

Doing as he says you lift the left side of your shirt to reveal the cut that has been causing you so much pain. You feel weak having to sit here and let your boss tend to your wounds. You need him to know your strong enough to get the job done, there’s no where else to go he is your last chance.

You feel him start to clean the area removing of any dried blood and dirt littered on your skin. It’s cold against your warm skin that’s to be expected but what isn’t is how gentle he’s being. However when he moves to disinfect the cut itself things become a lot less pleasing.

“Ah for fucks sake that shit hurts!”

“Language please. I know it hurts but I would rather do this then have you die on me.” The sentence shocks you, what does he mean? Would he rather take care of me then have me dead? I guess this is a good thing considering the failure of today.

“I’m sorry about today. I might have aimed to far over my own head. I know my actions can be really impulsive at times, that I definitely have to work on. It’s just frustrating for me. Perfection is not a goal for me but it’s a way of life. Failure isn’t a option, ever.”

“Dear, did you ever hear the words of failure and you not being perfect come from my mouth?” This left you stunned, what do you say to that?

“You and I both know I didn’t.” He continued, “Don’t sit here and think for one second I have any doubts in you. Half isn’t as bad as you may think, maybe two weeks worth of work but I always carry extra. I’m not concerned about the shipment, I’m concerned about you.” You up to meet his eyes and see they are starting right back at you. There isn’t a hint of a lie in his voice or on his hard face.

“I didn’t think the cut was that bad.”

“It’s not. I just think it’s valuable for you to know your worth to me. My respect for you runs high as well as my trust. I want to see you do well but I don’t want you killing your self for it. So go and rest for the evening and have tomorrow off, we will talk later.” With that he got up and put everything back where it belonged. You gathered your things and head for your room while running this encounter over again in you head.

#arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #silco fanfic #league of legends

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: that good good smut

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!}

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both.

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.”

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--”

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!”

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...”

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like.

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.”

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?”

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?”

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?”

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?”

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light.

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back.

“i’m just repeating what you said!!”

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen.

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--”

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--”

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.”

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.”

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.”

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.”

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths.

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can.

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung.

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for.

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.”

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual.

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate.

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?”

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.”

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?”

“window of opportunity passed.”

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.”

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him.

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?”

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.””

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits.

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.”

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?”

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.”

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome.

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock.

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.”

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable.

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders.

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more.

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly.

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed.

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.”

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words.

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.”

“it’s only a couple of blocks--”

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?”

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.”

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.”

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--”

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.”

“me? sleep with you?”

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.”

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.”

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting.

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.”

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing.

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.”

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake.

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?”

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.”

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths.

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours.

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.”

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?”

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed.

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs.

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core.

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief.

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for.

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you.

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy.

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?”

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop.

under the covers, his own legs twisted.

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard.

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake.

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further.

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle.

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back.

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own.

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly.

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you.

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself.

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did.

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum.

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.”

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly.

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?”

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access.

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it.

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room.

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?”

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise.

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure.

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural.

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it. “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.”

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened.

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear.

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand.

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--”

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!”

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks.

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened.

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?”

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...”

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room.

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.”

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body.

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real.

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?”

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?”

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth.

“i just...i just had this insane dream...”

“dream? about what?”

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed.

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be.

you leaned in closer, closing the gap.

“it went something like this.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

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midnight-dreamerness · 3 years

Text

Savior

Chapter 1: Brother’s Best Friend

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you never thought you would see him after the funeral, but here he is.

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: small mentions of smut(nothing major), mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of blood

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this first chapter...let me know what you think! Also some of this may be confusing but it will get cleared up as the story goes on. Also I barely looked over this for mistakes, so sorry in advance <3

You met him in college. He was the popular football player, wanna be NFL. You were the book work that didn’t need any distractions. He was sweet and caring but cocky. Somehow he convinced you to go on a date with him. Everything was going great, but then he hurt his knee during a football game. Then he changed.

At the beginning it was just a couple of harsh words here and there. He would apologize after.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he would say, pulling you close. You got used to it, to the words, the hateful glances he would send ever so often.

His future as a football player was no more. He ended up working in an office, but it wasn’t enough for him.

The first time he hit you, he had come back from the bar, drunk and angry. He had met up with his old teammates, got plastered, made a scene, and got kicked out of the bar. He apologized that morning, crying for forgiveness. And you forgave him. You stayed, even when the abuse continued and got worse.

The worst part is, you blame yourself.

I shouldn’t have tested him and I wouldn’t have to cover the bruise on my jaw with a pound of makeup.

And now, almost 3 years later, you're still making excuses for him. Every hit, every slap, every kick to the ribs, every busted lip or bruised jaw, it was always your fault. It didn’t matter that you did everything he asked. He always found something to punish you for whether it was leaving a dish in the sink, not having dinner ready for him when he got home, forgetting to pick up something for him at the store, or something simple like not making the bed. It was always something.

Kade wasn’t always beating you. He had good days too. You glance down at the ring on your finger, finding it out of place. It didn’t fit right anymore. It didn’t look right on your hand. Truth be told, you didn’t want it there anymore. But what were you going to do? He had mentioned time and time again that if you were to ever leave, he’d kill you.

The elevator dings, indicating someone had come up. It gains your attention, pulling your eyes from the files you were currently going over familiar. His familiar face pulls at your heart and your mind flashes with memories. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your brother's old best friend is walking right up to your desk, a smile that somehow still makes you weak at the knees, stretched across his face. His eyes shimmer with glee, like he recognized you the instant your eyes met. The familiar ocean blue pulls you in and you're drowning in them all over again.

The gold star hanging from his neck has your attention, a grin appearing on your face. He’s always been a protector. You remember when Danny, your brother, had left, leaving you behind while he fought wars overseas. Jay was a year younger, so Danny had made him promise to look after you. He made him promise to protect you. And he did, until ultimately the year following, he left too.

He approached the desk, shaking his head while letting out a laugh.

“I couldn’t believe it. Miss Hawkins, secretary to the multimillionaire Reese Connor,” he teases, placing his elbows on the counter, intertwining his fingers together. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pain from your side. He’s bigger since the last time you saw him, it must be four years now. You were barely 22 when he showed up to your front door, holding your brother's dog tags in his hand and tears in his perfect blue eyes.

“Me? Let’s talk about you, Mr. Detective. I heard you’ve been kicking it in the Intelligence Unit.” You laugh, leaning over to shove his arm. He chuckles but something catches his eye. There’s red marks around your neck. You didn’t notice where his eyes trailed, so busy looking over what you could see from your stop behind the counter.

His shoulders were broad, more so than last time it seems. His jaw, not as sharp as it once was and he was no longer clean shaven. His five o’clock shadow runs across his jaw and the lower part of his cheeks. You remember all the complaining he did when he was younger about how he could never grow it out probably and opted just to shave it so your brother would stop teasing him relentlessly.

There’s still freckles running over his face in the most perfect way, trailing down his neck and down under his shirt. There’s a scar leaking out from his olive green shirt that is partially covered by his leather jacket.

You shake your head, looking back into his eyes that hold a different emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, and sigh. “What can I do for you Detective Halstead?” You grinned teasingly. His smile reappeared in a matter of milliseconds.

“I need to speak to Reese involving a case I’m working on. Is there any way I could speak to him?”

You purse your lips, looking down at your watch before replying, “He’s currently in a meeting, it should be over in about ten minutes if you wanna sit and wait?” Jay nods. You smile, pointing towards the chair behind your desk.

He rounds your desk and takes a seat only a couple of feet from your chair, which you sit back down in. You try to ignore the burning in your cheeks. This feeling takes you back to when you were fifteen. A young and naive teenager who thought she was in love with her older brother's best friend, who was 4 years older than you.

“I can see your cherry red face and your facing away from me.” His comment only made it worse. You groan, closing the file and turning to him.

“You haven’t changed have you?” You ask, crossing your legs. It gains his attention immediately. His eyes trail down to your ankle, a large bruise covers the area.

“Well it seems you got more beautiful since the last time I saw you,” he stares, leaning back in his seat. A sting punctures your heart, sadness attempting to creep over you. You push it away, laughing.

“Yeah well it’s been a while since then.”

“You know, I can still remember those boy band posters hanging in your bedroom. And those pigtails you wore everyday in middle school.”

Groaning, you reply, “I hope you don’t still see me as that clingy preteen.”

“I think you know I don’t see you that way anymore.” You knew exactly what he was hinting at, and if it could get any worse, the burning in your cheeks intensified, the ache between your legs reminding you of how good he made you feel and how no other man, even Kade, could make you feel the way he did.

You suck your lips into your mouth, trying to hide your smile.

“What are you here for?” You find yourself asking, picking at your nails, attempting to change the subject before you say something you shouldn’t.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

Jay lets out a chuckle, making you glance back up to him. He’s shaking his head with a grin. You pout, turning back to your desk.

There was a slight pause as you tried to focus on your work, but you could feel his eyes on you, like he was trying to figure you out after all these years.

“Those are some nasty cuts on your hands, butterfly. What happened?” The nickname brought back so many memories of you and your brother. Tears welled in your eyes but you forced yourself to focus on the question, nervousness sitting in your stomach.

“I broke a plate washing dishes.” The lie fell smooth from your lips, dripping with innocence. A sound leaves his lips, like he didn’t believe you.

“Your eye?”

“Walked into a wall.”

“What about that bruise on your leg?” Looking down, the bruise now visible on the back of your leg you hadn’t noticed this morning while getting ready. You whipped around in your chair to look at the detective coldly.

“I fell.”

“I know you're clumsy, sweetheart, but not that clumsy.” Jag leans over, his forearms leaning against his thighs. “What about the red marks around your neck? Or the bruise on your shoulder that I can see through your white blouse.”

You curse yourself for being so careless. If Kade found out someone was questioning you, a detective and a friend no less, he’d kill you.

“Are you interrogating me, detective?” You ask, looking at him sternly. You intertwine your fingers and sit them in your lap. You watch him cross his arms over his chest, his muscular biceps, bulging through the sleeves of his jacket, gaining your attention. Gulping, you adjust your crossed legs desperate for the little pressure it gives. You hated that he could make you this desperate. Despite being angry, you could tell he knew the effect he had on you. He was going to use it to wiggle the information out of you.

“Does he do it when he’s drunk, sober, or both?”

You narrow your eyes, recalling the times you could smell it on his breath and the times you couldn’t. It seemed like it was worse when he was sober, when he was drunk he was sloppy. You glanced down to your lap, trying to keep the tears at bay. You didn’t need his sympathy. You didn’t need his help. You were a grown woman and you didn’t need your dead brother's best friend looking out for you anymore. You no longer needed his protection.

Luckily you're saved by a man approaching your desk from the direction of Mr. Reese’s office.

“Thank you, Miss Hawkins.” The man slaps the desk before continuing towards the elevator. You rise from your chair, motioning Jay to follow you down the hall towards your boss's office.

“That’s a pretty bad limp. You should get it checked out.”

You stop in the middle of the hall and turn to him, annoyed at this point.

“Detective-“

“What happened to JJ?”

Your eyebrows pull together as you run your hand over your face, a sigh escaping your lips. “Jay, I know you promised my brother you’d look out for me, but I’m fine.” You try to reason, even grabbing his arm and giving him a smile.

“I’m not doing this because of Danny, sweetheart. Believe it or not, I care about you,” he says, stepping closer to you. You gulp, pressing your hands to his chest. He had you against the wall now, his arms on either side of your head, trapping you.

“Jay, please. I’m engaged.”

Jay pulls back abruptly, giving you a shocked look but there was anger in his eyes.

“You're marrying that bastard?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. You move to touch him, but he moves from your grasp.

“Take me to Reese.”

You look down, nodding before continuing on towards your boss's office. You knock on the door, waiting on the okay before walking inside. Your boss sits at his desk and was previously focused on his computer but his attention is turned to you.

“A Detective Halstead is here to see you.”

He flashes you a smile before motioning him inside. You let Jay pass, taking in a sharp breath as his body brushes with yours.

Once you're outside and the door is shut behind you, you lean against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. Ever since he came back from his first tour, to spend some time with his family, your feelings for him became much more than some school girl crush. You saw him in a new light. He was more than your brother's best friend, more than that guy who looked after you ever so often. He was a man and you, you were a woman. You had hoped for so long that he would see you differently. He did, but the time for you and him had passed.

Your little moment was ruined by the sound of a voice, “Who the hell was that?” Your head snaps towards the end of the hall. Kade’s friend Nathan stands there, a glare set in his eyes. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as your breathing becomes unsteady. You're stuttering out incoherent words but he’s already pulled out his phone and dials a number while walking in the opposite direction of where you're standing.

Although filled with fear and worry, you continued working, distracting yourself and praying that he’ll let it go, or at least listen to you when you tell him you didn’t say a word to Jay. He knows Jay, and when he finds out that it was him who you were talking to, it’s going to be ten times worse.

Your attention is once again drawn to him as he walks up to your desk from the direction of the hall. He slides a card onto the table towards you.

“I wasn’t there for you like I promised you that day. I failed you, and I failed him. I know the signs. When you're ready to get out, call me. I won’t let you down, not this time.” You watch him walk away, heart sinking into your stomach. You want him to come back, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to call out to him, or to trust him again.

Before he enters the elevator, he gives you another look and adds, “You’re strong. Remember that.”

He gets into the elevator and he’s gone. You picked up the card, looking it over. He reminds you that not every man is as awful as Kade. But he has his claws dug into you so deep, you can’t even trust Jay, the man who protected you when your brother was away. You don’t know what to do without Kade. You love him.

He’s going to change, you tell yourself. You only hope you’re right.

A/N: Okay can i just say how sorry i am for how long it took me to post this story :( Not gonna make any promises but chapter two should be out Friday or Saturday. Thanks for the support. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #detective jay halstead #jay halstead one shots #chicago pd x reader #dom jay halstead

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