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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream.

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself) ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned.

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes.

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily.

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting.

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.”

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds.

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile.

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out.

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself.

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl- he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it.

“Will you chill please?”

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner.

Home for 5 weeks.

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully.

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came.

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have.

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face.

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.”

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted.

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee.

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate.

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself?

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers.

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side.

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation.

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm’; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show.

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you.

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning.

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it.

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank.

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear?

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle.

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced.

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile.

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt.

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head.

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.”

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different.

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle.

#Harry Holland #Harry Holland fluff #Harry holland x y/n #harry holland x reader #tom holland

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wooyunhwa · 4 years

Text

kingdom of welcome addiction | five

view pinned post for masterlist / links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut (with plot), angst

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader / ???yunho x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: overstimulation, finger sucking, multiple orgasms, use of toys

Synopsis: Torn between two opposing forces competing for your attention, who will you choose? Will San’s secrets finally come to light?

A/N: Finally some backstory! Strap in! Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always! <3 love you all

“I’ve been assigned to protect her.”

“From what?” San asked, relaxing his hostile stance back a bit.

Yunho glanced at you, then back at San, uneasiness coming through in his gaze.

“From you.”

“From me?” San laughed mockingly.

“They’re not happy with you, San. Up there.” Yunho gestured vaguely upwards. Was heaven actually up?

“Tell me something I didn’t know,” San muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m not talking about that,” Yunho said seriously. “I’m talking about you saving her. They take fate pretty seriously.”

“So what, you’re like the protector of fate now? Give me a break,” he sneered, voice tinged with mockery. With the way they bickered, you’d think they were some old divorced couple.

“You guys are talking like I’m not in the room. Can someone explain to me what’s going on?”

Yunho’s hand rubbed against your leg. You weren’t sure exactly how to feel about his touch now, knowing he was a celestial being and not just a cute human boy, but it did feel nice. Comforting somehow, even in this situation. “When San saved you, he altered your fate.”

“You’re saying I’m supposed to be dead?”

“Well, yes. While you should be dead, we angels don’t exactly endorse killing humans, even if it was their fate. But that’s why I was reassigned. Your original guardian… well, he couldn’t watch over you any more.”

You felt as cynical as San for a minute, rolling your eyes at Yunho’s implication. “Sounds like the original guardian wasn’t doing a very good job then, if he was gonna let me die.”

San laughed from his position, poised against the counter top casually. His fangs glistened as his mouth formed a familiar smirk. “That’s my girl.”

Yunho was entirely unamused, but turned to face you fully, face lingering entirely too close. “Either way, I’m here to watch over you now. Make sure he—” He shot a poisonous glare at San. “—doesn’t alter fate again. You’re in big trouble, by the way.”

San smiled sarcastically, eyes like daggers as they met with Yunho. “What are they gonna do, hmm? Banish me?” He wiggled his fingers mockingly. “Oh no, I’m soooo scared.”

“Anyway,” he pulled his gaze back to you now, eyes sparkling like the stars as they met with yours. The way he looked at you, you’d think you were the only two in the universe. “If this impulsive idiot hadn’t ruined it—” He shot another deathly glare at San. “—I was going to watch over you from here. As your classmate. Angels aren’t typically permitted to get this close to their assignments, but you’re a special case. I was given a lot of flexibility.”

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” San sneered through his teeth. “Classmate, my ass. I saw how your hands were all over her.”

“Don’t you have some souls to eat somewhere? Virgins to sacrifice?” Yunho taunted in his direction.

“Fuck. Actually, I do. I’m getting a call.” San turned on his heels. “Don’t think I’m letting this one go,” he said, but he was gone before you could even get a parting word out to him.

Your mind felt like it had been reduced to a steaming pile of mush after your conversation with the two of them—well, more like you listening to them bicker. Either way, there was too much information to take in at once. In a matter of minutes, your cute human crush became your cute angel guardian. Well, you supposed he always was, but the fact that you knew it made it feel so much more strange.

But a few things hadn’t changed.

He still sparkled like the stars to you. You had already fallen for him hopelessly, the minute you saw him walking into your classroom, you knew that to be fact. Nothing about your attraction to him had changed. Whether or not his ethereal glow was because he was incredibly handsome or because he was very literally an angel changed any of that fact for you. His touch still gave you goosebumps. His soft smile in your direction still made your heart race. He was still the embodiment of light, glowing like a beautiful aurora. He radiated the positivity you needed so desperately.

And you were alone with him.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” he said, his hand still rested on your thigh. “About me being your guardian. I was hoping I could get to know you better first. Just as Yunho. I didn’t anticipate San showing up unannounced.”

You skipped right past his apology, needing answers. “So—Why? Why’d you kiss me? If I’m just your assignment?” you questioned angrily. But a part of you didn’t even want to ask him why. You just wanted to do it again.

“It was genuine,” he promised. “It wasn’t planned. But it was genuine. We angels may not be human, but we have a bit more humanity than that demon. We have souls. They’re just not… bound by the human realm.”

You had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but he looked beautiful saying it. You felt like you couldn’t possibly take in any more information than you already had without completely losing it. You winced suddenly, noticing your head beginning to ache.

“Y/N, are you okay? W—Would you like me to leave?” Yunho asked softly, sensing the look on your face. It was odd to have him asking. San usually just left whenever he wanted to, disappearing into the ether without a trace.

“Leave? Do you just... disappear out of thin air like San does?” you asked seriously.

Yunho chuckled, his laugh like music to your soul. “No, no. I’d have to walk out the door. And take the bus.”

“What kind of angel takes the bus?” you jested, assuming he was joking.

“It’s part of my assignment. I’m not exactly human, but I don’t have all my angel powers either. I was supposed to blend in as much as possible. So I play by the laws of the universe now,” he chuckled. “Speaking of, just because I’m an angel, doesn’t mean I’m not actually worried about passing that class.”

You burst into laughter at the ridiculousness. He was an angel who had to take the bus and do homework? What a shitty deal. You were enjoying his company, and you didn’t want him gone just yet. “To answer your earlier question, you can stay. You’re supposed to be protecting me, right? I’d feel safe if you were around.”

He smiled warmly. You realized his hand was still on your thigh, and his face a lot closer than you remembered. He looked so soft and inviting, and you remembered the way he kissed you earlier. It was soul-warming, like a comfort food you ate as a child, something your mom would make for you.

“I’d love to stay and protect you. And not just because it’s my job,” he said charmingly, eyes forming into two cute crescents on his face. He was absolutely glowing.

No matter how you looked at it, he and San were magnets with opposing forces, and yet they both drew you in equally.

You leaned into a kiss without thinking, your eyes trained only on his soft, inviting lips. You melted into them as you collided, immediately overwhelmed with the gentle way his lips met yours. He reciprocated against you, hands moving from your thighs to cupping softly on the small of your waist, pulling you against him. Everything he did was passionate, yet tender. He handled you like the most delicate glass, like you could break at any moment and he would be there to put the pieces back together. You pushed your body against him, sinking into the soft, thick fabric of his sweater. He felt like a cloud.

He was San’s very literal antithesis. And something in you needed that right now more than anything.

You pushed your tongue in his mouth, indicating you wanted to escalate things. You fisted your hands into his pillowy sweater, grasping at him to pull him in closer against you. He moaned against your mouth, and the sound sent tingles all the way down your spine.

But he pulled away, leaving you grasping desperately at the fabric of his sweater.

“I can’t do this in good conscience,” he said, brows furrowed with concern. Wow, he really was San’s antithesis.

“Is it breaking angel code to make out with your assignment?”

“Well, no. Technically, I’m free to do whatever I want as a human bound here for now. I just want to make sure you’re not doing something you regret. It’s all very fast.”

You sighed, breaking away from him, though you craved his lips even more now that the taste lingered on your tongue. The silence felt deafening—you wanted to hear more of Yunho’s angelic moans against your ear. Moments like this made you miss San’s impulsivity. You knew if he was here he’d be all over you.

“Can we cuddle, at least?” you asked, gaze drifting up and down from his soft lips to his even softer sweater. He was like a marshmallow you wanted to sink down into. He was everything you needed right now. Pure comfort.

He nodded softly, repositioning himself against the arm of the loveseat. He motioned between his legs, creating a nice wedge for you to cuddle up in. You curled up against him, your head sinking down softly in the pillowy sweater. He wrapped his arms around you protectively. You weren’t sure, but you thought you heard him singing to you as you drifted to sleep.

You woke up to a note on the fridge, scribbled neatly and punctuated with hearts and smiley faces. He was so effortlessly pure. Even his handwriting was cute.

Morning class, can’t miss! Sorry. See you in Advanced Religion?

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. What a dork. He’d just revealed himself as an angel, and yet he was worried about missing class? To be honest, you really couldn’t afford to miss any classes either, but there were so many unanswered questions still swirling around in your head. You needed San.

After cleaning yourself up thoroughly, you decided to summon him in your room, something you hadn’t done for a while.

“Early for you to be calling me.” You swiveled on your heels, your face immediately met with San’s chest. You stumbled back a few steps, but he caught your waist in his arms, pulling you in to him. “Nice to hear you calling, darling. I’d say you smell sweet, but you reek of angel.” He glanced around suspiciously. “Is he still here?”

“No, he left before I even woke up.”

San sighed, then trained his gaze on you, crimson eyes lighting up like a fire. “Good. You know, I’ve missed you, lamb.” He drew his finger across your chin, tipping you up to his eyes like he always did before he wanted something. “Care to play with me this morning?”

You didn’t feel like entertaining his games right now. “No, not really. I have a lot of questions I need to be answered.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted sarcastically, before leaning back against the desk in your room. “Alright, let’s get this over with before I get called elsewhere.”

“Earlier, you came in without being called. I thought I had to call you for you to appear. In the alley, too. How?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead with two fingers, reluctant to answer your questions. “I can do it, but it’s a risk. Like working without a contract. Goes against the demon rulebook, or whatever. But I was willing to break some rules when I saw that angelic asshole with his hands all over you,” he said, putting extra spiteful emphasis into referring to Yunho.

“You guys… have history, I take it?”

“It’s a long story. I’d rather not get into it right now,” he responded dismissively. “Anything else?”

“Were you watching me?”

“I—only a little. Just enough to see you mouth-fucking with that angel bitch,” he sneered through his teeth.

Damn. Touchy subject.

“Are you trying to say we’re exclusive or something? Because that most certainly wasn’t the impression I got from this relationship.”

San’s eyes narrowed, pushing himself off the desk to close the distance between you. He ran a fingernail down your neck, making sure to drag over every bite mark. “No. We’re not. But I feel... protective of you.”

“Well then don’t worry about Yunho. It’s his job to protect me.”

San rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say he’s exactly trustworthy,” he grumbled under his breath, then quickly focused back on your neck. “Ugh, darling, won’t you let me have a little fun? I’ve had a rough week.”

You pulled away, dropping your gaze. “I—I need to go. To school. I’m late.”

San clicked his tongue, looking at you with a look of displeasure. “You’re really no fun. You’re the one who called me here, lamb. No tears? No blood? Not even a taste of your lips?”

“Bye, San. Don’t come back unless you’re called, understand? Or I’m done making contracts.” You met his eyes seriously. “Forever.”

Seeing Yunho at school was… strange, to say the least, after his big reveal to you. You had made a routine of getting there early just to watch him come through the door, and your new information about his job didn't change any of that.

It seemed like the other girls in class caught on to getting there early too, seated expectantly for him to walk through the door, tall and model-esque. You'd even heard girls whispering about him in the halls—the new blue haired boy who every girl on campus wanted a piece of. They drew their heads up as he ascended the lecture hall stairs to make his usual seat next to you, like they were watching a celebrity.

Inspiration struck. As he sat down next to you, you gave him a flirtatious wink, then pulled him in for a casual, but slightly drawn out kiss. You let your lips linger against his for a few seconds afterwards, eating up the jealous stares of your classmates. You wanted to mark him yours. After all, he was your guardian.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and you took his hand, lacing his fingers in yours. “Go with it,” you whispered discreetly in his direction.

He gave your hand a light squeeze, leaning back in to give you a soft peck on the cheek to seal the deal.

And just like that, he played the role of your college boyfriend. But it was just a role. Acting. In a sick way, you loved the jealous, spiteful stares you got as you walked down the hall with him. And he was able to keep a closer eye on you without being hunted down by every girl on campus trying to flirt with him. It was a mutual agreement.

You were still entirely enamored by him, you crush in full bloom. Playing the role of his girlfriend was satisfying, but not in the way you needed it to be. He was sweet, but distant—you assumed he was trying his best to stay objective, to not get too wrapped up in his assignment. But you wanted so much more.

He sometimes came over to your place to study, and you rarely even mentioned his angelic presence. He requested that you treat him normally, like any other human, although that was pretty much asking the impossible. He certainly wasn’t, and would never be, like any other human.

He still glowed like an aurora and sparkled like the stars. You wanted to cuddle up into him and never let go. You wanted to spend your days nestled in his arms. A few times, you did, falling asleep curled up on his chest on the couch like you had the first day he came over.

But you couldn't help but want more.

Your lonely nights had made you needy.

Yunho wasn't quite ready to go there with you yet, as he very clearly defined when you came onto him the first night he came over, and you'd been avoiding San like the plague. Not that it was hard—all you needed to do was not summon him. And you hadn't, for a while actually.

But your hand wasn't doing it for you today. You needed more. You needed San.

You were partly joking about him being your demon prostitute, but he kind of was now that you were calling him exclusively to get you off. Not that you were complaining about that. You were trying to distance yourself from him emotionally, but that didn't mean you couldn't have him help you with your physical needs.

You put on your best set of lingerie, a black lacy set you weren’t really even sure why you had, and displayed yourself sexily on the bed. Not that you needed lingerie to entice San, but you figured it couldn’t hurt.

He appeared with a low growl, eyes immediately glazing over with lust. “What’s this darling? Finally want to have a little fun?”

“I want a contract, San. I don’t care what you do for me—clean my kitchen, make me dinner, I don’t care—but your reward is my body. Take it or leave it.”

“Very forward of you today,” he said with an amused smirk. “I like it.”

“Your answer?”

“Fine, I accept. But I have a condition.”

He wasn’t in much of a position to give conditions, but you nodded, urging him to continue.

“You’ve left me waiting for so long. I want to have a little fun with my prey first, hmm? That vibrator in there.” He gestured his head to your nightstand, the top drawer where you kept your pink silicone vibrator. It was small, compact, and admittedly expensive. It also came with a fully customizable bluetooth remote. “It’s remote, right?”.

“It’s remote capable, yeah.”

His lips pulled into a sinister smile, eyes darkening, and you realized what was happening.

“I want to watch you squirm. I love watching you. My helpless little lamb," he cooed, stepping over to your nightstand to pull it out.

“Wait, but how did you know that was—”

“I may or may not have done some snooping in your room while you were asleep the other night.” He flashed you his fangs, eyes glimmering playfully. “You should know not to trust a demon, darling.” He twirled the vibrator between his fingers, glancing from it to you, still laying in wait on the bed. “Did you put on that pretty number just for me? You look… delicious in it.” He drew his tongue over his teeth, then took a seat on the edge of the bed.

His hand traced over your skin, from your neck down to your breasts, stomach, hips, then between your legs, circling your clit through your panties. You had missed his touch desperately, although if you were being honest, it wasn’t his you necessarily missed. You missed intimate touch at all.

He leaned forward to plant a kiss, surprisingly gentle, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. “Tonight’s about you, my lamb. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have my fun.”

You were already wet before he got here, hopelessly horny and waiting for his arrival. You were now even more so. The lace of your panties was completely soaked as he danced his fingers across it. He pulled the seam of the lingerie to the side, just enough to slip the vibrator inside of you. His other hand held the remote. His eyes were fixed on you, power erupting beneath his crimson irises.

He had you literally in the palm of his hand. The smallest touch on the remote, and he was completely in control. He did not take that power lightly. He turned it on, the light buzz immediately sending vibrations through you like waves. Your mind soared in pleasure, whimpers escaping from your lips.

“That’s cute. That’s just the low setting, darling,” he cooed, pressing the lace of your panties back between your legs. He pressed a hand on your stomach, feeling the way your core trembled under his touch. “To your feet,” he commanded suddenly. “C’mon.”

You wobbled up off the bed, and he cranked up the intensity to the highest setting the second your feet met the floor. Your legs buckled underneath you, and a smirk passed over his lips as he watched you, weak like putty in his hands.

He pushed you to your knees beneath him, standing tall as his hooded gaze fell on you from above, dark and lust. He praised you sweetly as his hand gripped in your hair, tightening his grip as he toyed with the buttons on the vibrator. You trembled as the vibrations rocked through you. Every so often he would stop the sensations completely, stopping to pet your head softly and sing you praises, only to push up the intensity to full and grip his fingers tighter in your hair. Your head spun with neediness, practically dripping around the vibrator sunk deep inside you.

He lifted your chin with his fingertip, tilting your head up almost 90 degrees. You whined as the vibrations teased you torturously, it had felt like hours he was watching you, a satisfied smile curled on his lips as he watched you writhe and shake at the mercy of his fingertips. Your whining grew louder, orgasm firing through you so intensity you could barely keep yourself upright. Only the tugging of his hands in your hair kept you up on your knees.

"That's a good, good girl. So pretty when you’re shaking," he praised sweetly.

He brought his hand to your mouth, parting your lips slightly by tugging down on your teeth, then shoved two fingers in. You sucked them enthusiastically, eating up the noises that escaped him at watching you gag on his fingers. He shoved them in farther, and you gagged a bit. Right on cue, he pushed up the intensity of the vibrations. You shook and moaned against his fingers as the vibrations rocked through you again, and this time you were much more sensitive. He watched the look on your face twist as he switched the pace from fast to slow, thrusting his fingers in every so often to hear your gagged breaths.

“Such a dirty girl, getting off choking on my fingers. Embarrassing, really. But cute,” he cooed, shoving his fingers in your mouth one last time as he cranked up the intensity on the remote, then pulling them out with a trail of saliva.

He sent you over the edge again. And again. Your knees started to burn lightly against the carpet as he toyed with you over, and over, and over. You weren’t sure how many times you’d come. You lost count at some point. Drool pooled at the corner of your mouth, body sore from writhing and shaking, every muscle contracting again and again. “Good, good girl,” he praised again, stroking your hair softly. “Tired, lamb? I may have gone a little overboard. I couldn’t help it. You’re just so cute when you’re helpless under me.”

You breathed heavily, unable to make words. Your brain was pleasured mush, entirely blissed from the at least five orgasms you had. “Tired…” you muttered, glancing up at him through heavy eyes.

“I know. You did good.” He raised you up, supporting you by the waist as you stumbled weakly to your feet. Your legs were jello, and you weren’t sure if you could even make it to bed. San seemed to know that too, as he lifted you effortlessly, placing you on your bed gingerly. He helped you remove the vibrator, your body trembling as it slipped out. He even offered a change of clothes and helped you slip into them. Why was he being so nice?

Your eyes were heavy, body completely wrecked from the orgasms. You didn’t remember much after that. The whole world went black at some point.

When you woke up, there was a note on your nightstand:

I cleaned the apartment for you. Consider the contract complete. xoxo demon maid

Studying with Yunho became a nightly habit, replacing your bedroom rendezvous with San. That wasn’t to say you didn’t summon him sometimes to fulfill... certain needs, but that was beside the point.

You were caught between the two of them them, both pulling you in opposite directions, both fulfilling different needs for you. You felt guilty, flirting with Yunho in the daytime and summoning San at night to sate your desires. But there was something in you that still wasn’t ready to let San go.

He’d been on your mind recently, San. Despite all the cards being out on the table, he was still particularly vague about one thing: his history with Yunho.

"Yunho I—I need to ask you something."

He turned his eyes to you, and his smile was warm and inviting. "Anything."

"It's about San."

Yunho broke his gaze, his sunshine smile fading. "I told you, I didn't want to—"

"How do you know him?"

"What do you mean?"

"He said you were a former colleague. Did you work with him before? Can angels even work with demons?"

Yunho sighed, rubbing his neck apprehensively. "I shouldn't be tell—"

"I already know too much. What's one more thing?"

He chuckled lightly, the heavenly sound ringing in your ears like a lullaby. "I suppose you have a point. But… you can't tell San I told you this."

Your hand came up, zipping your mouth closed with a wink. "Consider it locked away."

“Alright, well… San wasn’t always a demon. He used to be an angel. We worked together. We were… friends. A long time ago, at least.”

They were friends? You couldn’t ever imagine them getting along.

“What happened?”

“He fell for a human. His assignment. I wouldn’t say that’s typical, but it happens. I don’t blame him for that.” Yunho dropped his gaze, gritting his teeth. “An angel who has fallen for a human… they usually experience the grief of loss, and move on. There’s nothing in angel code that says you can’t experience love. But San has always been... more impulsive than most. And he made a mistake.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. “What—what kind of mistake?”

“He wanted to make a deal, with a crossroads demon. The deal would prolong her life, but he would be forever indentured to the demon. He didn’t care… as you probably already know, he’s impulsive.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his neck in thought. His expression was pained, regretful. “I—I was the only angel he told about making the deal. He trusted me, but I ratted him out. He was making a huge mistake… I couldn’t let him sell his soul away like that.”

“So he made the deal?”

“No. They got to him in time. But he broke a lot of angel codes when he made that plan, and I was witness to his confession. They tried his case, but he was never very well liked by the committee. And so they banished him.”

You fell silent, unable to form the right words. Yunho’s eyes were big, glistening with what looked like the beginning of tears.

“He would never say it, but I know he blames me for his human’s death. If I hadn’t have told them about his plans, she wouldn’t have died then. But… I couldn’t let him sell his soul to the crossroads demon. At the time, I never imagined he’d be banished. I thought they would just stop him from making the deal, maybe suspend him for a few weeks. But not banished.”

“So, angels who are banished become demons then?”

“They don’t have to. They just can’t carry out their angel duties anymore. And they’re stripped of their wings. He was hurt. Scared, I’m sure. He had nowhere left to turn. He sold his angel soul to become a demon, for the promise of a life of fulfillment. However twisted it was.”

You dropped your gaze, falling completely silent for a while. None of Yunho’s story connected with the dark, bloodthirsty San you knew. You couldn’t imagine what he was like as an angel. Did he sparkle like the stars? Did he smell like heaven itself? Was his smile like the sunshine too?

Yunho’s voice broke through the silence. “I answered your question. Now you answer one for me.”

His serious expression suddenly made you uneasy. "Is it this last homework question?" you joked, but Yunho's face was unamused.

"San…” His eyes met with yours, soft and earnest. “...do you love him?"

Your eyes went wide. “Do I love San? No… no.” You shook your head a few too many times, as if you were trying to convince yourself, not Yunho. “Our relationship is purely business. We exchange... services. That's all.” Your hand came up to your neck involuntary, feeling the faint remaining scars of his bite marks.

“Then why do you keep him around? You're beautiful.” Your heart fluttered for a minute at his fleeting compliment. How could such an otherworldly handsome being think you were beautiful?

“You don't need his… services. He's nothing but trouble. I know you know that.”

“Maybe I'm attracted to trouble.”

"Well, you're attracted to me, too, right?" Your breath caught in your chest. Heat rose in your face, staining your cheeks an incriminating bright red. You opened your mouth hesitantly, but he didn't give you the chance to answer. "So maybe you don't need a bad boy after all?"

"You said it yourself, Yunho. You need to focus on protecting me. No complications."

He leaned in closer, setting his hand gently on your cheek. A chill rolled through your spine. "What if I changed my mind?"

You pulled your lips against his, melting against him softly. You wanted him. Yunho. The ethereal boy that stole your heart the moment you saw him. But now, your mind saw only San. Why? Why could you only see his face?

You didn’t see the San you knew, though. You didn’t see demon San, you saw angel San. The one you could only imagine. You saw the San with a soft, peaceful smile, highlighted by the cute dimples on his cheeks. You saw the San who would risk his life for the one he loved, no matter the cost. You saw the San who made a mistake, and paid his soul for it.

Your heart ached. You pulled away from Yunho suddenly, a single tear rolling from your eyes at first, followed by a river.

He didn’t ask you why, he only pulled you into him tightly, wrapping his long arms around you in the most comforting hug. You nuzzled into his neck, taking in his scent—he smelled like fresh rain on a spring morning.

It would have been so simple just to choose Yunho. He was the obvious choice. Beautiful, warm, kind—he was everything you could ever need.

So why could you only think of San?

#choi san smut #san smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #jeong yunho smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #yeosang smut #ateez demon au

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greekbros · 3 years

Text

"greek-Bros: Phallic Judgement"

*Surprisingly, Dionysus had gone back to Rome to cause more mischief with Hermes, this time they've brought Ares along*

Dionysus: *again disguised as a wine seller* ok gentlemen, behold. The foulest creatures to crawl on the face of the earth. *Shows just random Roman citizens*

Ares: *who for some reason decided he wanted to disguise himself as the world's most intimidating slave* ......ugh....the goats? *Sees a goat*

Hermes: *cleverly disgusted as farmer* haha no. You see, these guys are absolutely weird. They insist of "rationing" Sapa, they have taxes for literally existing and above all.....their wine is watered down! But they have the best bread I've ever tasted though.

Ares: ... really?

Dionysus: don't be fooled by their baked goods my dudes. These are cruel and unrelenting scum folk. Uncultured, ignorant, and above all....they've inslaved every single country they've conquered.

Hermes: .....it's mostly about the wine isn't it?

Dionysus: ....*turns dramatically* their most unforgiving sin.

Ares: *has wondered off to see a statue of himself*.....my dick isn't THAT small.......*looks at the name plate saying "Mars"* ......I can't believe these guys misspelled my name....*takes some charcoal, scratches out Mars and writes Ares*

Centurion Gaurd: Excuse me slave! Where is your master! Slaves are not allowed near the devine statue of the gods.*sees that Ares has wrote his name on the statue's nameplate* What the?

Ares: *doesn't know the centurion was referring to him considering he's in disguise* .........*turns to the see the back of the statue* ....at least they got the ass right.

Centurion Gaurd: EXCUSE ME! Please stop making remarks about the sacred statue! You've defaced sacred property!

Ares: *slowly peaks over to the centurion* ....hey ugh there's a thing on your helmet*

Centurion Gaurd: oh really? *Pats around his helmet* where?

Ares: *points to the centurion's face* There's a shit attitude a little all over your FuCkInG ugly mug.

Centurion Gaurd: *realising what he meant* YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

Dionysus: *walks into the situation* Oh there you are Skippy! Bad boy I thought I told you to stay close to me and not open your mouth! *takes a little stick and weakly whips Ares's shoulder with a single thing of wheat*

Ares: *confused* ...wut?

Centurion Gaurd: Is there YOUR disrespectful slave?

Ares: wait you said I was going to be a noblem-*gets a loaf of bread in his mouth by Hermes*

Hermes: please shut up or we'll leave you here to fend for yourself.

Ares: *kinda just enjoying the bread* hmfhmf.

Dionysus: You see my good sir, my slave is extremely stupid, dumb and has testicles the size of grapeseeds. He was used as a human kickball when he was an infant and was raised by goats. He can't help himself sometimes. *Tries to clean the charcoal off the statue*

Ares: *angry noises* ?!?

Centurion Gaurd: .....Ok...you have the pay the "Disrespectful Slave" tax fine.

Dionysus: .....*grumbles and takes a bag filled with gold coins* ....*gives it begrudgingly* .....*grits his teeth* have....a...good day.

Centurion Gaurd: *takes the gold and sees that it's drachma* .....hmm.....*takes out a piece of paper with a semi-crude wanted poster of Dionysus, Apollo and Hermes* ......hmm.....I watching you....sir. *leaves to find Mortus*

Dionysus: *turns to Ares and glares at him* ....you owe me 20 drachma.

Ares: *has finished eat the bread* Why? Don't these mortals know we're gods?

Dionysus: No! We're here in disguise so that was can destroy the city again. You are here to make sure the country doesn't get a chance to get back up.

Ares: Fuck yah. *Literally has no idea what he agreed to*

Hermes: *saw the wanted poster in the centurion's hand* ugh...guys we REALLY need to finish what we came here for because they're definitely on to us.

Dionysus: yeah yeah I know....come on let's go. I want to destroy the coliseum again.

Ares: what's a coliseum?

Dionysus: *suddenly a huge grin forms across his face* Hermes .....is the coliseum....open?

Hermes: let me check. *Literally speeds next to the coliseum and saw a Roman sign that says "Grand Re-Opening" and zips back to Dionysus* yeah. It's open.

Dionysus: perfect. *Pops a waterskin filled with wine, and chugs it* oh gods I'm FuCkInG dry. It's like this place sucks your very essence or something.

Hermes: hmm....yeah, shame really. *as he was following Dionysus and Ares, he accidentally dumbs into a familiar face* oops sorry miss.

Octavia: *turns around with a baby in her arms that looks suspiciously familiar* Oh pardon me sir. I didn't mean to bump into, the market seems rather busy today doesn't it?

Hermes: It's ok, I was just heading to-*knotices the baby* .....ugh...

Caius the baby: *smiles at Hermes as if he knew Hermes was his dad* ba-ba :D

Octavia: Oh sweetie, daddy is working. Oh children are so wonderous, even at a few months old, they have such an imagination. By the way, have we met before? You look so familiar....are you from the countryside?

Hermes: uuggggh *trying his best to not look Octavia in the eye* yeah, I get that all the time. Trust me I have some of my own, I mean children that is. Also no I don't think I have? *Literally hoping she doesn't recognize him even though he shape shifted into her husband a year ago*

Caius: *still happily cooing over his real dad*

Dionysus: come on buddy le-*put two and two together and scowls at Hermes* ......you didn't.

Hermes: ugh....

Dionysus: nevermind we're off! *He pulls Hermes to the direction of the coliseum*

Octavia: hmmm what a strange young man. He's handsome though.

Caius: *coos in disappointment* :(

*later*

Dionysus: *rubs his hands* hehehehehe....

Hermes: this better be worth it. I thought we would write our names on the temple walls here or something.

A Roman Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen! This grand reopening of the Coliseum shall be in honor of our Lord and Emperor Caeser!

Caeser: *does the Royal British wave*

Dionysus: peeeeerfect.

Hermes: ......hey I got to ask...why did you bring Ares?

Dionysus: some bulky bastard is currently the head champion gladiator here, he use to live on Crete before the Romans decided to kidnap a few warriors there....let's just say my pettiness will come with effort.

Hermes: ......ok seriously man what are talking about?

Dionysus: look no one says that their dick is bigger than mine and actually gets away with it.

Hermes: ....you know....you could just smite someone. I mean it's not graceful....but it's effective.

Dionysus: hoho, I'm going to make this extra dramatic.

The Roman Announcer: And now! You're great champion, Maximus the Well-Endowed!

Maximus: *a huge, hulking man came out, roars out* HAIL CAESAR! *Leans to the announcer* I am going to get my 20 hot virgin women after this right?

Announcer: *whispers* yes yes. AND HIS CHALLENGER *looks at a note which was scribbled on his hand* ..... "Skippy the Not-Well-Endowed"! *Looks back his hand still not believing what he had read*

Ares: *is just happy to get into a fight, however was oddly enough only was only wearing a loin cloth and a helmet, armed with a shield and spear* ......oh boy, a whole stadium just for killing? These people rock!

Hermes: ........you didn't....

Dionysus: yep.

Ares: *steps side to side like an exited kid* comeoncomeoncomeonstartthefighting.

Maximus: Alright Skippy, time to end your tiny dicked existence. *Raised his sword on to Ares but Ares was able to break it with his helmet* !?

Ares: ....that's it?

Maximum: *confused* ugh....*waves to order in more weapons, all of which fail to hurt Ares*

Ares: .......aw come on...you guys have some shitty ass weapons. Bet YOUR weapon is just as shit.

Maximus: grrrrr.....YOU PUNY SLAVE! *Rips off his armored skirt* See! You're fucking wrong!

Roman crowd: *gasps*

Dionysus: .....

Hermes: *whistles* holyshit....dude this guy is hung.

Dionysus: If there's one god who can contest me....the only god who's dick is so epic, so powerful, so irresistible, so near perfect......that Aphrodite can't FuCkInG resist it on a daily basis.

Hermes: Heracles?

Dionysus: No buddy, Ares. Ares is the guy who's dick is better than mine I mean come on a guy who shags the goddess of love more times than any living thing HAS to have something going on down there

Some Roman Karen: EXCUSE me is pronounced Venus! We don't use greek words here.

Dionysus: Please leave me alone lady.

Some Roman Karen: *rhees in anger*

Dionysus and Hermes: *both are struggling to ignore her*

Ares: ....ok...that dick of your isn't that great.....*rips off his loin cloth* .....THIS....is a dick.

Crowd: *the women and gay men swoons over the perfect of Ares's bare body, men quake and cringe at their own feeble members and put to shame*

Caesar: *completely unimpressed and decided to leave* hmf. Pathetic.

Maximus: *wriggles in shame* HOW c-C-C-could this be?! The most PERFECT COCK? Oh my gods why is it fucking glowing?!

Ares: ....what you don't shave yourself weekly? I mean come on man that's how you keep the ladies coming back?

Maximus: *starts crying a little*

Dionysus: *cackling uncontrollably* SO THATS HIS SECRET! *writes on a piece of paper saying "shave, dick, weekly"*

Hermes: *still not fully understanding why all of this* ........you brought Ares here JUST to emasculate some gladiator?

Dionysus: Oh much more than that Herms.....much much m-

Roman Karen: EXCUSE YOU SIR ITS MERCURY!

Dionysus: *has had enough and turned her into a chicken* there much better.

Hermes: .....are you ok? Did you have your wine today?

Dionysus: I RAN OUT OF WINE LONG AGO!

Hermes: *deep sigh* not again.

Ares: *now in full naked display* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!? *The crowd roared and cheered*

Dionysus: well....yah want to set the animals free from their cages?

Hermes: fuk ye-*feels a tough and strong hand practically crushing his shoulder* .....*turns to see an old man who clearly was Zeus* .....

Zeus: .....boys.....

Dionysus and Hermes: .....Uh Oh.

Zeus: *took each of them by their ears like a discontented mother* you're BOTH grounded for bothering these mortals and above all abusing the dark, unholy power of the sacred male member ....if I had a third arm it would be reserved for Ares. *Looks down at Ares now just doing some naked dance for the crowd*........*deep and disappointed sigh*

Dionysus: but dad, I do that like everyday.

Zeus: I don't care if I don't discipline you or Hermes right the now, Hera will have MY male member nailed to the wall.

(Later that day)

Mortus: *inner noir detective monologue* after several months, nothing. Absolutely nothing. The suspects disappeared from the face of the empire. Likely their crimes have caught up with them. My only consolation to solving this case....is the mysterious birth of my son and my faithful wife. .... speaking of which...why does Caius have blue eyes? Me and Octavia have brown.....did ...she?....nah that's impossible.

The Centurion from earlier: MY LORD! I FOUND THE SUSPECTS!

Mortus: *dramatically turns around* This better be the right ones this time.

*much later after apparently an orgy broke out at the coliseum*

Mortus: .... Absolutely disgusting. Practicing Sexual Festivities without a license is punishable by crucifixion, Mark.

The Announcer (Mark): B-b-but sir! It wasn't my fault! Some slave was to challenge Maximus and they just decided to remove their clothing and everyone went wild! ....to be fair the slave did look a little attractive BUT the fornicating ceased once the slave disappeared.

Mortus:....was he accompanied by a portly, dark haired ..... individual?......an extremely attractive blonde slave and a thinner more athletic young man with brown hair?

The Announcer: ...hmm...well yes minus the other slave.

Mortus: Hmmm.....the plot thickens.....are these the mysterious criminals that destroyed the coliseum last year?....What is the motivated behind these depraved individuals?.....

The Announcer: ugh...why are you talking to yourself?

#greek bros #greek-Bros #Mortus #roman vs greek jokes #greek gods #dionysus #hermes #Ares #Zeus #greek mythology

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hyunsracha · 4 years

Text

now or never — bang chan

word count: 4.5k

summary: liquid courage lets you jump at your last chance to tell him how you feel.

one.

Han Jisung might just be your least favorite person on the planet. You think this when he leans over your shoulder, your thumbs paused above your phone’s keyboard. Your phone was open to Instagram as you struggled to think of a caption for this particular post. It wasn’t anything special, just a picture of you and Chan at the annual fair over the weekend. The two of you had gone together every year since you were little kids. It was one of your favorite traditions.

“I have an idea.” Jisung took the phone from your hands, his fingers quickly getting to work as you yelled protests at him, “Relax! It’s nothing bad.”

Oh, but it was.

“We look like a couple here?! Jisung, are you serious?” You cried out, yanking the phone back from him and editing the post before anyone (hopefully) saw. The boy next to you cackled.

“It’s not like anyone would be surprised. Everyone already thinks you’re together.” He nonchalantly shoved fries into his mouth as he spoke. Jisung ate like a pig, but you didn’t complain about it anymore. Last time you did that, he got all up in your ear and started chewing with his mouth open. Disgusting.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Yeah, shut up, Han.” You don’t even flinch when Chan and Changbin take their seats across from you. You could practically sense when one of the three boys was going to appear. Changbin said it was because your friendship was so strong, but in reality, they all wore such strong cologne, you’d be an idiot not to sense them.

“I literally did nothing and you’re attacking me.” Jisung whined, kicking Chan’s shin under the table. Chan gasped, kicking him back with more force. They would do this for hours if you didn’t stop them.

“Guys-” You started, but you stopped yourself. Jisung deserved to be kicked.

The four of you were hardly quiet when you were together, so you ate your lunches and talked about your day. Jisung got the chance to tell Chan and Changbin about him spilling folic acid all over his crush in chemistry, which he told you about on the way to your shared history class.

“It was mortifying! He’s never going to want to talk to me again!” He cried, hiding his face behind his hands, “I was even planning on asking him to prom! Now what am I gonna do?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention was on Jisung.

“Prom?” Changbin yelled, his eyes wide.

“Yes?”

“We were supposed to go to that together, you dick!”

“It’s my senior year! I wanted to shoot my shot!”

“Yeah! Senior year! That’s why we were going together!” Changbin shook his head, false disappointment evident on his face.

“Well, since we’re asking people to prom now,” Chan started, folding his hands on the table. He bit his lip, darting his eyes around the room, “Y/N...do you maybe...wanna go to prom with me?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your fingers twisted themselves around each other as you pulled your lip between your teeth, willing yourself not to smile like a lovestruck idiot. This was your best friend, asking you to prom as his best friend. You pulled yourself together, heaving a sigh before you replied,

“Yeah, totally. It’s a date.”

“IT’S A DATE? Have I lost my fucking mind?” You fell back onto your bed, staring at your ceiling in disbelief. Jisung cackled from his seat at your desk, obviously very pleased by your choice of words at lunch. He invited himself over to your house, wanting to discuss prom plans with you, but you two were getting nowhere. As soon as you got home, you ran to your room to wallow in your own peril. You remembered how Chan had smiled at you when you accepted his proposal, his eyes managing to sparkle even under the shitty fluorescent lights the cafeteria provided.

“I’ve only been waiting four years for one of you to slip up. I’m glad it was you so we can talk about it. That asshole Chan still hasn’t confessed his undying love for you to me. But I bet he told Changbin. Fucking traitor.” He started to ramble, his eyes drifting across the paintings on the wall, “Hey,” he pointed to one in the corner, “this one is new.”

You nodded, gazing at the painting yourself. You had only hung it up a few days prior. You smiled, remembering the night you painted it. Chris was at your house, taking up all the space on your desk with his laptop, portable keyboard, and hard drive. He was working on a 3RACHA song, like he usually was. You always found those days with Chan so relaxing. The two of you didn’t need words to communicate with each other, you had your art. He would make music and you would paint, and your art would always end up reflecting the other’s. The song he was working on that night, Alchemistry, showed itself in your painting, swirling clouds of grey in a fading sky of purple and black.

“Since we’re not going as a group anymore, I need to find a way to ask Hyunjin to prom.” Jisung sulked, opening up one of his one thousand notebooks. Jisung was a notebook kinda guy. He wrote every little thought down, just in case something could be used in a future song of his. And if he wanted to find something specific? Get ready for notebooks being tossed at your head as he sifts through every single one because he doesn’t label or organize anything.

“Write him a song.” You suggested, gaze still trapped in that painting. Now that you were thinking about it, most of the paintings on that wall had something to do with Chan. It was like he had seeped into every corner of your life, including the darkest and most personal ones.

“That’s your answer for everything I do.”

“Because your songs are good?” Not that you were lying. Your three best friends made up the rap trio 3RACHA. Were you a little bit jealous that they didn’t even ask if you wanted to be part of it? Yes, but you designed their album covers, so you forgive them.

Jisung was silent for a second, pondering your idea. Then he nodded, flipping to an empty page in the neon green notebook. He started scribbling, and you can’t really tell if it’s lyrics or drawings. But you looked away, letting Jisung do his thing. Pulling yourself up from the bed, you made your way to your closet, flinging the doors open with a huff. You scanned the rows of clothing before deciding that you definitely needed to go prom shopping.

“I need something new, something that screams-”

“Please date me?”

You scoffed, “Han Jisung, you’re going to be the death of me.”

two.

Your room was an absolute disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere, makeup and hair products settling on every surface. You hardly noticed the mess, you were so...excited? Anxious? You didn’t really know.

It was the big day.

Changbin was laying on your bed, no doubt texting Chan about how dramatic you and Jisung were being. Jisung was three inches away from your mirror, sucking in a breath as he applied a line of dark brown eyeliner. You were on the other side of the room, running your hands through your hair as you decided what to do with it.

“Just leave it how it is, Y/N, who cares that much?”

“I care that much, Changbin!” You huffed, deciding to leave it how it was anyway.

The only reason Chan wasn’t with you guys is because he was now your date. Jisung had banished him and Hyunjin from the room as soon as you started getting ready, claiming that he wanted your looks to be a surprise.

“I’m giving you guys ten minutes before we leave, alright? I’m getting a fucking drink.”

“Your favorite juice is on the bottom shelf.” You called out as Changbin was leaving the room.

“I know where the juice is!” He shut the door firmly, leaving you and Jisung alone.

“Y/N,” he sighed heavily, having just finished his wing, “I think I’m going to piss myself.”

“That’s a rented tux-”

“I didn’t mean it literally! I’m just...really nervous.”

You nodded, moving from your spot to go comfort the boy, “If it’s any consolation, you look super hot. And I’ll make out with you if Hyunjin doesn’t.”

He laughed, and you could feel the nervous energy around him dissipate a little bit.

Once the two of you were ready, Jisung opened your bedroom door, calling out to the boys below. He linked arms with you before walking out the door and down the stairs slowly.

Chan turned around when he heard movement on the stairs, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. His face turned bright pink as he adjusted his tie. He cleared his throat, extending a hand for you to take, “You look...um...really...n-nice, bunny.”

You breathed out a nervous laugh, feeling your stomach churn at Chan’s nickname for you since you were children, “Thank you. You look...nice, too.”

Jisung unhooked your arms and wandered over to Hyunjin, and you could hear them mumbling soft compliments to each other, both of their faces tinged pink.

The car ride to the school seemed to be the most normal feeling part of the night. You all talked to each other, awkwardness temporarily thrown out the window. You laughed at Jisung’s impressions, trying to avoid the weight of Chan’s hand in yours. It felt nice; right, even. His grip was tight, but in a comforting way. Every once in a while, his thumb would gently graze over your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

Once you got inside the gym, it all changed again. Now, Chan wasn’t just your best friend. He was your date, and you got all dressed up for each other, and everybody was looking at you two. He sent a charming smile your way, half bowing and extending yet another hand for you, “May I have this dance?”

And it was okay again, for a little while. The two of you danced, all worries about keeping face and feelings out of your mind. Your friends joined you for some of the songs, and you finally got to see Hyunjin dance. For months, Jisung would rave about how amazing he was. And you agreed; he certainly deserved his spot as co-president of the dance team.

An hour or so into the dance, a slightly sweaty Chan pulled you away from the dance floor and over to the refreshments. Confused, you asked, “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. I just want some punch.”

“And you had to take me away with you. Felix was just about to throw it back!” You whined, feigning disappointment. In reality, you were kinda glad to be out of the dance circle. High school kids really didn’t understand the concept of personal space when it came to these things. And besides, you wouldn’t mind some alone time with Chan.

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested to him, “we’re both sweaty. We could use some air.”

He nodded, taking your hand again. Pushing open the gymnasium doors, the two of you were met with a cool spring breeze. You sighed, letting your eyes shut for just a moment. In that one moment, Chan’s eyes were trained on you, fondness practically seeping from his pores. He took you to his favorite spot on campus, the music hallway. It was his favorite place to study, and the acoustics were dope, just in case he felt like bursting into song. Jisung did that sometimes.

The two of you sat on the cold cement floor, giggling at each other like little kids. You weren’t worried about what your friends inside the gym would think. You were just thinking about Chan. Chan and his dimpled smile and his sparkly eyes and his calloused but still gentle hands and how he was getting closer and why he was getting closer and - oh, his lips tasted like peach. You always liked peaches. So you kissed him back, because he tasted like peach. Not because you’ve been head over heels for him since the 7th grade. Absolutely not. Although, to be fair, 7th grade you would be absolutely geeked at how good of a kisser Chan was. How those calloused hands still managed to hold your face like it was made of porcelain while he sucked on your bottom lip like he would die without it.

He pulled away first, the popping sound of your lips disconnecting making you blush.

“That was - I - I’m sorry-”

“Sorry for what?”

“I just kissed you!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oh,” He gaped, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s just that, yanno, I dunno. The prom...energy...got to me...haha.”

You stared at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip, trying to push the feeling of his lips out of your mind. You forced a smile, “Totally! And we...don’t have to mention this to anybody if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah...that would be best...let’s go back to the gym.” He stood and pulled you up with him. How he can stand to still hold your hand after crushing your heart like that, you couldn’t understand. But you let him.

You would always let him.

three.

It only takes two weeks for you to tell someone about the kiss. Granted, you’re drunk. And it’s Jisung. And he’s offended it took so long.

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I’m not just anyone, Y/N! Let’s not forget, I told you about my first kiss with Hyunjin when it happened!” He was practically yelling.

“You guys are dating! Chan and I are not dating!” You cried out, your grip on the plastic cup in your hand tightening. You weren’t really sure what was in the cup. Changbin had brought you one of his concoctions, promising to get you fucked up. And you just graduated high school, you deserved it! Thank whatever higher power that Choi Lia’s parents were on route to Canada right now.

“You guys still aren’t together? That’s so embarrassing.” Jisung hiccuped. He had the lowest alcohol tolerance you had ever seen, and you knew Lee Felix. You smacked his arm, apparently harder than you thought, because he yelped in pain. Or maybe he was just being dramatic. You pouted, staring at the neon green liquid in your cup. Sighing, you downed the rest of it, your face contorting at the awful taste. You figured you needed to be wasted to deal with Jisung’s bitching for the rest of the night. You loved the boy to pieces, but he sure had a mouth on him.

Seemingly out of thin air, Hyunjin appeared next to Jisung, immediately slinking an arm around the shorter’s waist. Jisung giggled, “Hey, handsome.”

“Don’t do this in front of me.”

They couldn’t hear you, “I’ve been looking for you all night, babylove. Should’ve guessed I’d find you with Y/N.”

“Was the glittery silver blazer not enough for you to spot him? He looks like New Year’s Eve in May.”

Still ignoring you, Jisung poked Hyunjin’s chest teasingly, “Sounds like you missed me.” He bit down on his lip, and that was the last straw for you. You huffed, making your way to where Changbin was in the kitchen.

“Hey, Y/N! How was the drink?”

“Absolutely horrible. Make me another one.”

Changbin took the cup from your hands, pouring random amounts of various liquids into it. He handed it to you with a sly smirk, warning you to drink slowly. Not that you ever listened to Changbin. You pulled yourself onto the kitchen counter, sipping on the horrible substance while making conversation. You ignored the dark cloud seeping into your mind while he spoke about college. Chan, Changbin, and Jisung had all made it into the same university, as they had submitted 3RACHA songs with their applications. You weren’t a musician, so you were going to a different university that focused more on your kind of art. It was only two hours away, but that was two hours farther than you had been from them in years.

“Hey,” You interrupted his tangent, your voice barely above a whisper, “You guys aren’t gonna...forget about me, right?”

His smile dropped, “Of course not. We’re still gonna be best friends, aren’t we? And we’re gonna see each other every weekend, and when we come home for holidays, we’ll be together all the time.” He closed the gap between you two, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. It was awkward positioning, but Changbin’s hugs always made you feel secure. You swallowed your tears, mumbling a shaky, “thank you,” into his ear.

When he let you go, you quickly finished the rest of the drink and tossed the cup into a nearby trash can. Your last drink was starting to hit you, big time. A sudden determination filled your veins, “Hey, Binnie?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you seen Chan lately?”

“He’s probably with Seungmin somewhere.”

You nodded, jumping off the counter and starting your pursuit. It shouldn’t be that hard. How many guys did you know with fried blond hair?

After a few minutes of searching, you found him sitting on the couch with Seungmin like Changbin had said. Seungmin made a joke, and Chan threw his head back as he laughed. God, he was so...stunning. A gasp escaped your lips as you watched him. You felt your determination wither for a second, but you pushed through. This is your last chance, Y/N, you thought to yourself. It’s now or never.

“Can I talk to you?”

A look of alarm crossed Chan’s features as he nodded. He sounded unsure as he spoke, “Yeah, totally. What’s up?”

“I mean,” You glanced at the boy sitting next to him, “alone.”

A soft oh left Chan’s lips as he stood. He nodded to Seungmin before gripping your hand like he’s done so many times before. You could just barely hear Seungmin’s laughing as Chan pulled you away. Wait, you were the one who asked him to talk, why was he dragging you around?

To be honest, Chan didn’t know either. For him, taking your hand and leading you to secret places just seemed...natural to him. He led you up the stairs and into the first room he found. Lia’s room. Lia wouldn’t mind; she was a good friend. He closed the door behind you two, locking it just to be sure.

“What’s up, bunny?”

Your heart began to pound in your chest as you sat down on the bed. You sucked in a breath, making eye contact with Chan as you folded your hands, “I’m in love with you.”

He just stared at you, not even blinking. You watched his chest rise and fall with his breaths. An excruciating minute passed, which felt like hours to you, before he made his way across the room and next to you on the bed.

“Y/N…” He had hardly finished saying your name before your heart shattered, “we’re going to different schools next year. You’ll be focusing on your painting and I’ll be producing probably non-stop. I...wouldn’t be a good boyfriend to you.”

You tried to hold in the tears, you really did, but you were drunk and the boy you’ve been in love with for like 5 years just rejected you and you’re cold. So you couldn’t really help the choked sob that comes from your throat, and you had to restrain yourself from throwing yourself at him for comfort. He started to stutter, “N-No that’s not what I meant! I mean, it is, but don’t cry!” He clasped your shoulders and pulled you to him, allowing your tears to flow freely on his nice black shirt, “Y/N, you know I have feelings for you. I just...won’t be able to be there for you like you need me to. I want to be with you, I really do. It would just end in heartbreak. I would rather still be your best friend and only that than have you hate me as a boyfriend, okay?”

“I’ll wait for you.” You barely managed to get those words out through your cries.

“No, you won’t. Please don’t. Please move on, bunny.” You removed yourself from his hold, scrunching your nose up to sniffle the tears away.

“Can we just...go to bed?”

The smile that he gave you in that moment broke your heart again; so sad and sincere.

“Of course.” He laid you down, holding you close enough to hear his heartbeat. He was so warm.

God, how you wished you could stay like that forever.

four.

Chan couldn’t tell if he was more excited or nervous to see you. Your group hadn’t seen each other as much as you had hoped. At the beginning of the semester, you met up every weekend, excitedly chatting about your new classes and the new people in your lives. But as life continued, it got in the way. You hadn’t seen each other face to face since October, opting for texts and FaceTime sessions instead. And he missed you terribly. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?

He found himself thinking of you often. Even during songwriting sessions with Jisung and Changbin. They laughed at him when his lyrics became sappy, threatening to pull their phones out and text you Chan’s adoration. He regretted what he told you back in May; that he wouldn’t be good to you.

He sat in the living room of his childhood home, fidgeting in his seat. Changbin was scrolling through channels on the TV, a bored expression on his features. Jisung and Hyunjin were in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for the third time that night.

He couldn’t focus. You were going to knock on that door any moment, your parents in tow, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. Cry? Run into your arms? Fuck, try and kiss you? He stood abruptly, scaring the boy next to him.

“I-I’ll be right back.” He excused himself, hurrying to lock himself in his bedroom to breathe.

Changbin opened the front door, his eyes lighting up at the sight of one of his best friends, “Y/N!”

“Is Y/N here?” Jisung yelled from the kitchen, the pitter patter of his feet telling you that he was running your way. Two pairs of arms wrapped around you. They walked you through the door, with Changbin yelling something to your parents about where the other parents were. You felt your mother’s hand on your back, a way for her to tell you that they were going. When the boys finally released you, they noticed one other figure in the room.

“Oh…” Jisung gasped. Changbin just stared, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Um-” You coughed, trying to relive some of the tension, “where’s Chan?”

“In his room.”

You nodded before heading that way, lightly tapping on the door three times, “Channie? It’s Y/N.”

The door swung open, a breath-taking smile on the boy’s face. He wrapped you up in his embrace, swinging you around as he yelled your name.

“How have you been? How are you? Wow, you look so pretty!” His hands cupped your face, lightly dragging his thumbs over your cheekbones. You placed your hands over his, a dull heartbeat in your chest as you watched him speak.

Chan’s heart was pounding in his chest. He thought you could hear it, and that’s why you were looking at him so...analytically. They’re right here, he thought. You lost your chance last time, but maybe it’s not too late. Now or never, Chan.

“Listen, Y/N…” He sighed, “about what I said after graduation, at that party-”

“No, don’t-”

“Please just let me say this.”

You nodded, allowing him to continue, “I was wrong, okay? I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. I should’ve just...given us a shot. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. You can ask the guys, all my lyrics have been about you, and they’re ridiculously cheesy. I know I told you to move on but...maybe I still have a place in your heart? And...maybe we can...try this?”

You couldn’t breathe. You shook your head, pulling away from him, “Chan, I-”

Seven months ago, you would’ve jumped for joy at his confession. Taken him into your arms and kissed him until you were dizzy. But now…

“Baby! How long were you gonna wait until you introduced me?”

Chan froze. Baby? Who the hell was calling you baby?

You took a few steps back, glancing over at the boy next to you, “Channie...this is my boyfriend, Minho.”

Boyfriend. You had a...boyfriend. You went and did exactly what he told you to do, but his heart still shattered. But he plastered a smile on his face anyway, shaking Minho’s hand, “I’m Bang Chan. One of Y/N’s best friends. Welcome to her second home.”

And the night continued like that. Your best friends focused their attention entirely on you and Minho. They asked him an endless amount of questions, from where he grew up to his favorite kind of bean. Sometimes, you would notice Jisung or Changbin giving Chan a sympathetic glance, but you ignored it. Minho was a good boyfriend, and you were genuinely happy with him. You didn’t expect your feelings for Chan to leave you so quickly, but distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder.

The five of you spent most of your winter break together. The only day you didn’t see each other was Christmas, which was spent with your families. The next day, you had your own Christmas, like you did every year.

The hardest day for Chan was New Year’s Eve. You had a party at Changbin’s house, with as many kids from your graduating class as possible. It reminded him of that night after graduation. Jisung still wore that ugly silver blazer, drunk and attached to his boyfriend all night. Changbin still made horrible, hangover inducing nightmare drinks that he persuaded poor college students into drinking. You were drunk again, too. But instead of crying into Chan’s chest like before, you were giggling up a storm with your new boyfriend. Chan watched from afar, jealousy pumping through his veins at the way you draped yourself across his lap, and how he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That should’ve been him.

10 seconds before midnight, he felt sick. Everyone around him was so giddy, so excited for a new start. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from you two. Your hands were locked together, staring into each other’s eyes as you counted down the seconds. The TV at the front of the room screamed, “Happy New Year,” as he watched Minho’s lips crash against yours, a smile evident on both of your faces. He stalked out of the living room, making a beeline for the bar.

He had to get over you, the way you had so easily gotten over him. And he had to get over you now or never.

389 notes · View notes

imagining-supernatural · 4 years

Text

The End

Epilogue of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You take a stroll down memory lane for a few of your “firsts” with Sebastian

Word Count: 1,146

"Alright, round one!"

The Roots played hype-up music as Jimmy Fallon drew out the tension. You got into the competitive spirit and narrowed your eyes at Sebastian, mouthing the words 'You're going down.'

"What did you do on your first date?"

Well shit. Both you and Seb stared at each other with wide eyes, thinking over your complicated relationship. Which encounter would you classify as your first date? Your wedding? The MET? The first time you went to the hospital together?

A long moment later, Seb nodded to himself and started writing on his pad of paper.

Well, you thought, here goes nothing.

You wrote a single word and looked up to see that he was still scribbling.

"Looks like you guys have different ideas of what your first date was," Jimmy observed.

From over at the podium, Steve Higgins dropped in his two cents, "Hope this doesn't make problems for you two."

Sebastian finally finished and held his pad close to his chest. "I'm pretty sure we had at least five different first dates depending on how you classify a first date."

"Well, let's see how you two classify it. Y/N, since you finished first, why don't you show yours first?"

A drum roll came from the other side of the room and you flipped your paper around to show the word Hamilton.

"On Broadway?"

"Yeah. We were waiting for the first round of tests to come back to see if the oncologist could do anything and he took me to Hamilton."

"Mmm," Seb hummed. "That's a good one. But it's not our first date."

He flipped his around and Jimmy read it aloud, "Breakfast the morning after we got married before we went to get an annulment."

"If I recall correctly,” Sebastian said, almost smugly. “You told me that was the most unique first date you'd ever been on."

"Yeah, I actually remember saying that." The reminder of that day made you grin. "And it ended with us on a plane all the way across the country."

"Gotta treat my girl right," he replied with a wink and a kiss to your forehead.

A minute of banter passed before Jimmy flipped over the next card. "Oh, this one should be easy. First kiss."

"Like my first kiss? Or our first kiss?"

"The first time the two of you kissed."

Immediately you both wrote on your pads, and at the drum roll you flipped them around at the same time... to show different dates.

"Ah! Controversy! We have September in Vegas from Y/N and November in an elevator from Sebastian. One of you is wrong."

"Seb, we literally have pictures of us kissing in front of Elvis in Vegas."

"It doesn't count! Neither of us remember so it doesn't count!"

You weren’t about to give up the fight. "Hey, I don't remember marrying you, but legally it counts, so I think photographic evidence is proof enough that I'm right."

After a minute of debating, it was decided that you were right and the score was tied one to one.

Jimmy quieted everyone down and looked straight at the camera for the last question. "Here's the tiebreaker! Tell us... Which one of you said I Love You first?"

Another easy one. You wrote 'him' on your board, thinking back to the day after your surgery.

Yet Seb had a smirk on his face that didn't bode well for you.

"Three...Two...One!"

And Sebastian had written your name.

The crowd Oooh-ed and you tilted your head at Seb, confused and slightly concerned with his obviously shitty memory. "You said it first, babe. Like, for sure. One hundred percent."

He shook his head, smirk growing to a full blown smile, soft at the edges. "You don't remember, do you? I'd just gotten home for Thanksgiving break and you were drinking wine and dancing around the living room."

"I remember that. But I didn't say—"

"You begged me to drink and dance with you and when I said yes, you said..."

Mind blank, you slowly shook your head until the drunken memory came back. "I said, God, I love you and that we needed more wine. Oh my god, I said it first."

"You said it first." An entire month before he had, actually. He brought your hand up to brush a kiss along your knuckles, then his smile grew. "And that means I win this game."

Later that night, you were sat between Seb's legs on the couch, twisting his wedding band on his finger as some sitcom played on the screen in front of you.

"You know, I've never said I Love You first. I don't think I've really said it to anyone but Jaz, actually."

His right arm tightened around your waist and he nuzzled his nose into your neck. "I figured. I also figured that you wouldn't say it while you were sober for a while. But I knew you meant it."

Your mind drifted back to those first few months together, to everything Sebastian did for you and said to you. "You loved me too, then. Didn't you?"

"I'd loved you for a while before Thanksgiving, but I knew you weren't ready to hear me say it."

You hummed in response to his confession and tangled your fingers with his.

"In case you were wondering why it seemed so easy for me to stay with you when you kept trying to push me away after the fight before your surgery and all the fights during your recovery," he whispered, "That's why. I knew you loved me. I knew I loved you. And I knew that unconditional love wasn't something you were used to. You didn't understand it and so you had to protect yourself against it until you did understand it."

"I've always kinda hated how you were so quick to figure out what makes me tick. And I especially hated how you seem to know exactly how to handle my quirks."

"I don't know about that," he murmured against your hair. "The first few fights we had were definitely my fault."

"Mmm, okay. I'll let you take the blame for those."

He squeezed your fingers and pressed his lips to your temple before changing the subject. "Thanks for doing the show with me tonight."

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. I hope your agent is satisfied with it. And I hope your fans like it." A thought crossed your mind and you sat up enough to twist around and look him straight in the eye. "If you ever go on Kelly Clarkson's show, you better take me with you. Otherwise, I'll file for divorce I swear."

He laughed softly and nodded. "I was already planning on it, sweetheart. Don't you worry."

"Good." With a satisfied smile, you kissed him. "I love you, Mr. Stan."

"I love you too, Mrs. Stan."

THE END

#sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader

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ninnodesu · 3 years

Text

The New Matriarch, ch 6

AN: Okay, this chapter is A LOT better than chapter 5 in my opinion, hahah. I'm just churning out chapters right now during christmas break, it's great!

Again; Thank you sooo much for reading! It's so much fun seeing the statistics and see that people like my little story. <3 Oh! Regarding the name "Kit": This is mostly just a placeholder name, do not fear! It is still You/Reader friendly ;)

TW: None, really. Maybe some light mentions of bullying!

Thomas B. Hewitt.

Thomas was grumpier than usual today at work. When he’d arrived, his work station had been vandalized. There were snickers and giggles behind his back as he had to clean up his little corner of the slaughterhouse almost all morning. It was covered in trash. People had literally dumped at least one trash can all over his station, might’ve been two, even. Rotten food all over his bench, some stuck to his cleaver. Everyone thought it was hilarious to mess with the residence retard. It was one of those days. One of those days where he was - apparently - only at work as some kind of comical relief to lighten the mood of the otherwise gloomy workers, at least that’s what they had decided.

At one point the ones responsible for the mess he had to clean had even pushed one of the shy girls right into Thomas’ chest, making cat calls and whistling towards them as a way to mock both at the same time.

The girl because she was shy and cried easily, and Thomas because… well… he looked like he did.

He wasn’t able to properly start butchering until maybe an hour before lunch, his boss yelling at him a handful of times before that.

What did I ever do to any of you assholes… Not only did he have to clean up the entire morning, there wasn’t enough food at home so he couldn’t bring lunch… and his cleaver was getting dull. A mental note to bring it home the next day to sharpen it.

This. Was not. His. Day.

I just want to go ho- , his inner sentence was interrupted by a hard dunk on his back, knocking a bit of air out of him.

“Hewiiiitt!”, one of the several bullies he’s had comes up with two of his friends holding his arms out wide, they’re smirking.

So you did this.

“Did ya’ like our present, Hewitt?”, he nods towards the trash can and starts laughing, “We got it specially for you.”, he chuckles before continuing, “Oh, and, I hope you don’t mind I take Laurie for myself, since you uh… wouldn’t know what to do with’er even.” A barking laughter erupts from the three of them at the end of his jab against Thomas, making everything personal. The end of his sentence makes Thomas turn towards them and glare down through his dark curls. The men take a step back, they can probably literally feel how Thomas’ anger starts boiling as he straightens up and flexes his biceps towards them. A clear sign they’re starting to royally piss him off.

He would never use his strength to physically hurt people, but he does know how to make them leave him alone, at least for a short period of time, they know he could crush their skulls if he wanted to. And they never go into fist fights with the giant. All they do is emotionally drain him, they make him know he’s different, not like everyone else, and that he never will be. He’s the village dumb animal and that’s his only purpose in life.

They laugh nervously as he stares them down. “Haha, you really are an animal, Hewitt.”, they just laugh as they turn and leave him alone in the now empty slaughterhouse. He plants his hands flat on his table and glances over at all the parts he has left to cut up before he can leave without getting reprimanded by his boss the following day and sighs heavily.

I fucking hate all of you.

It’s dark out when he’s finally done with his work, thankfully, his dull cleaver made it so he could snag more pieces of rejected meat with him home. At least something good came out of this shitty day at work. More food for his - now - bigger family and he tried looking at that like a consolation prize as he lumbered home in the dark, letting his mind wander.

I want a name for her.

Even if he didn’t want to speak to her, he still wanted to give her a name until she could remember her own, she couldn’t walk around with no name in the house.

Sure, I’m not going to openly talk to her…

He cleared his throat at that as a reminder for himself that he still had vocal cords. He made a conscious choice not to speak several years ago. But on lonely nights, or when he was alone - and knew no one could hear him - in general, he hummed, or spoke to himself, thinking aloud or mumbled reminders for only him to hear, to make sure his vocal cords were still there. The two words he had spoken in the barn a few days back the most he had actually spoken in… months, maybe years. His family had gotten used to his body language and mannerisms when they talked to him.

I can alwa-, again, interrupted. But this time by a family of foxes running across the dirt road. He stopped and just stared at the bigger one as it stopped in the high grass in the ditch on the other side, looking over at a small collection of babies that sprinted across it after looking over at the giant in the distance.

He smiled as he figured out what to call her.

Kit.

He hummed slightly, picturing her in his mind. Her face, the kind eyes that always crinkled when she smiled at him or his family, trying out the new name to see if it would fit her face.

Yeah. Yeah, I like Kit.

He readjusted the bag he had thrown over his shoulder and kept trudging home through the night, a tired sigh leaving him as he started to see the outline of the big house in the distance.

The house was silent, obvious evidence that everyone else was asleep, so he made sure to walk as quietly as he could on his way to the stairs leading to the basement, snagging a few pieces of the leftovers and shoving them into his mouth on the way down to the damp and musty basement where the coolers were loudly brumming and vibrating. Alone, he seized the moment to talk to himself.

“Let’s see… ”. His voice was raspy, but deep, and vibrated throughout his body. He rummaged and rearranged in the freezer box to take out the packages whose date seemed to run out to put it on top of the ones he had brought today. “Pen… penpenpen… ”, almost having to turn the entire basement over to find the one he usually uses - and mentally punishing himself for never putting it in one specific place - he scribbles down today’s date before putting them in the bottom of the box. As he stands and stretches he’s greeted with a series of tired pops in his spine. “Getting old, Thomas. ”, he mumbles before lumbering over to his basement corner. Not having the energy to climb the stairs.

He just wanted to sleep. Unbuckling his mask he rubs his hands all over his dried cheeks to ease the blasted itching all over him before kicking off his boots and laying down on the creaky bed. A yawn that transcends into a small, deep moan escapes him as he tucks one arm under his pillow and the other reaches under his shirt to scratch a spot on his stomach. “Kit. ”, he says out loud to try it on his tongue. “Mmmh. Kit is good. ”, is the last sound that leaves the basement before his snoring takes over.

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

You

You woke up in your bed, not really remembering when you went to sleep, but you decided to cuddle up a bit under your blanket before the morning heat reached your body and you had to force yourself up out of bed.

As usual, it was quiet in the house. “It’s really starting to get lonely here…”, you muttered to yourself as you descended the stairs. You were greeted by a few piglets running around in the kitchen as you entered.

A yellow paper struck you in the otherwise white and gray kitchen.

A note.

“Mornin’, dear. Breakfast is on the table.

Love

- Luda Mae.”

You looked up from the note and towards the table, and sure enough. There it was. A plate with a few sausages, a fried egg and a small piece of bread. You mentally thanked Luda Mae as you sat down, tucking a leg under yourself and started munching on your - now cold - breakfast while watching a few piglets running around. Occasionally you threw a piece of sausage at them which they happily ate. “I wonder why you live in here, piggies.”, you said to them as you downed the last of the meal. You hummed a bit at a thought before heading over to clean your plate and fork.

After drying your hands and putting the dishes away to dry on their own you turned on your heels and leaned back at the sink just looking around. “Now what…”, you giggled as you poked a pig with your feet and watched it twitch. “What should we do now, little guy?”

You sauntered away from the kitchen, into the dining room and just looked around. Taking in the homely - but not the cleanest - house you were in. You’ve never seen this before, never seen these people. But then again, maybe you weren’t even from around here… Everything before meeting Thomas in the barn was a blur, a darkness you really couldn’t remember. And right now, at this moment? You were happy you couldn’t remember anything. All you knew at this point was that you were relaxed.

You knew you’d been on the run, you remember the Box, but no details. Not your name, not where you came from, you knew an estimated age of yourself, but still no details.

You came from the darkness, yes, and Thomas was your light. Your beacon of hope.

Your venture took you into a room with a piano and a couch. You approached the piano and started tinkling on the keys, it was really out of tune and you couldn’t help but to laugh at how bad it sounded. But you shrugged and sat down in front of it and started poking the keys. Thinking you knew any kind of melody you could play, but it was fun nonetheless. After your solo concert you found yourself sitting in the grass outside, legs sprawled in front of you under a tree, the shirt you’d borrowed tickling slightly as a breeze caressed your skin and you closed your eyes. “This is nice.”, sure it was quiet, and sure you were lonely… and bored . But it was a relaxing kind of silence where you could lay in the grass if you wanted, take a nap on the porch if you felt like it. No stress and no need to live up to any expectations.

It isn’t until late afternoon that you finally notice the family starting to drop in. You’re on the couch in front of the TV lazily watching, not even paying attention to what is on when someone suddenly kicks the sofa. “Fuck you think you doin’?”, you jerk and look up at the grumpy man, Charlie, standing there with his hands on his hips shooting daggers at you. “Been home all day and not done anything ‘round the house.”, you don’t even get the chance to reply to him so you resort to shrinking in on yourself. “I uh…”, he interrupts you before you get any chance to defend yourself. “Listen here, girlie.”, he gets down low and right up in your face and grab it harshly to make sure you’re looking at him, “Mama might be treatin’ you good n'all, hell, she won’t stop talking ‘bout ya’”, he sneers and looks annoyed, “But you’re in my house, so you listen’ to my rules.”

His grip starts to loosen on you.

“So, ya’ see, honey. If you want to stay here, livin’ a good ass life, ya’ better do ya part, understand?” All you can do is nod weakly, after you do, he pats your cheek a little harder than he had to and gave you a tobacco smelling kiss on your forehead before he left. You mind starts hurting slightly, the treatment making something you can’t fully decipher before your eyes

You didn’t dare move off the couch after your meeting with Charlie. You kept your place on the couch until dinner was served. The other older man, Monty, had joined you, but you didn’t care. He didn’t care and acted like you weren’t even there. Dinner was just as uneventful, you all ate, but without Thomas. A knot started growing in your stomach when he wasn’t present, Charlie scared you already. And you had only been there for about three to four days. Barely talking to him, the few times you did meet him he shot you nasty glances. Eyes that traveled uncomfortably over your body.

After dinner was over and done with, Luda Mae invited you to have evening tea with her on the porch, and you, happy to accept, almost sprinted out to get away from mainly Charlie. He didn’t seem to dare say or do anything against you when Luda Mae was in ear shot.

Your house my ass... , you thought when you’d notice that small detail.

So, here you were having a cozy evening with at least one you enjoyed spending time with.

“You seem tense, darlin’”, she spoke up from her crocheting and glanced at you. “Is everything alright?” You looked over at her and gave a crooked smile. “I’m… I’m alright. It’s just…”, you shook your head and proceeded to rest your chin on your hand. “Can I ask you something, miss Mae?”, you tilted your head. “Mmhm.”, she hummed as she went back to her crocheting, the tone of her voice seemingly knowing what you were about to ask about.

Thomas.

The two of you ended up talking about Thomas for several hours. Luda Mae told you she found him in a dumpster outside the very slaughterhouse he works in, how he from an early age suffered from a skin disease they couldn’t afford to treat due to her and her family already living on the verge of poverty. She told you he was heavily bullied in school, and when he was around twelve left it altogether. Charlie helped him get a job at the slaughterhouse and that’s where he’s been since. He’s a gentle giant to the ones he considers family, he’s strong but never abuses his power.

“So, uhm… is there any specific reason he doesn’t speak?” She folded her hands in her lap and sighed heavily at that question, she had been teary eyed all through Thomas’ story, but now it seemed they started falling. “Due to him takin’ a knife to his face it hurt him too much to speak, and even eat. He stopped eating for a long time. He utters a word sometimes, but… that’s it.”, her voice trembled and she took a deep breath to continue, “My poor boy stopped talking completely when he was around… fifteen. And I haven’t talked to him since then.” You did the numbers in silence before gasping slightly “He hasn’t talked for nineteen years?”, she shook her head slightly. “I do miss talkin’ to him. He always did have the best laugh I’ve ever heard.”, she smiled to you. “Ya’ know the deep, rumbling kind, I remember him always laughing until he folded over.” You giggled slightly at that, picturing Thomas folded over in a deep laugh with his arms clutching his stomach.

It was a lovely image.

#The New Matriarch #TNM #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfictiom #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction

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chloelucia13 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 13: The Gate

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: You were stuck on the bench, and after deciding to try and do something to help Will, you had secretly wished that you had stayed at home. But at least people say dumb things when they’re dying, and other people say even dumber things when the person they love is dying.

Warnings: ANGST TO THE MAX, maybe like a hint of fluff, language, some vivid descriptions of gore, violence, just get ready to sob

Word Count: 9323 (holy SHIT)

A/N: And season 2 has come to a close in the saddest fucking way possible (just read it and you’ll see). I highly advise grabbing some tissues for this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, the taglist is open!

Tags: @just-my-fandom, @nightbu-g

Mike immediately ran forward, taking Eleven into his arms and pulling her into a tight hug.

“I never gave up on you,” Mike told her, pulling away to look at her. “I called you every night. Every night, for-”

“353 days,” she completed his sentence. “I heard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

“Because I didn’t let her,” Hopper spoke up, stepping forward. Mike stepped away, and Hopper took Mike’s spot in front of El. “The hell is this? Where you been?”

“Where have you been?” Mike repeated as Hopper pulled El into a hug. “You’ve been hiding her.” He grew angry, shoving Hopper. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!” he shouted.

“Hey!” Hopper shouted back. “Let’s talk. Alone.”

Hopper took Mike into Joyce’s room, leaving everyone in the living room to digest what just happened.

You stepped forward, setting your machete on the floor before stepping over to El, who seemed to be distressed. You could hear Mike and Hopper shouting from the other room as you rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, okay?” you told her. “You haven’t really learned it yet, but men get angry really easily. Don’t worry about them.” She nodded slowly and you pulled her into a hug. “It’s good to see you, sweetie. I’m glad you’re okay. And I kinda dig the outfit.”

She smiled at you as you stepped away from her, allowing Dustin and Lucas to give her a hug. “We missed you,” Lucas spoke as the three of them hugged.

“I missed you, too,” she whispered.

“We talked about you pretty much every day,” Dustin told her as they pulled away from the hug.

She looked between the two boys before stopping at Dustin, reaching forward. “Teeth,” she stated, touching his mouth.

“What?”

“You have teeth.”

Dustin grinned at Lucas. “Oh. You like these pearls?” He chuckled before making a purring-type noise, making El look at him confusedly.

“Eleven?” Max spoke up, stepping forward between the two boys. “Hey. Um, I’m Max.” She held out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Eleven stared at her for a few moments, blinking, before brushing past her and rushing over to Joyce, who immediately pulled her into a hug. They spoke for a few moments before Joyce led her into Will’s room.

“Don’t take it personally, Max,” you told her, stepping over to her. “Eleven doesn’t really know how to... socialize.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eleven leading Joyce into the kitchen, stopping at the kitchen table.

“You opened this gate before, right?” Joyce asked Eleven, pointing to the scribbled letters on the back of the notepad.

“Yes,” El answered gravely.

The group began walking towards the kitchen, listening in on the conversation.

“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?” Joyce voiced with urgency and a hint of hope.

El looked over at Joyce before staring off for a moment. “Yes.”

***

“It’s not like it was before,” Hopper explained with a sigh, trying to shut down the idea of having El close the gate. “It’s grown. A lot. I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demo-dogs,” Dustin corrected, turning to Hopper.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, uh, demo-dogs. Like demogorgon and dog. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass-”

“How is this important right now?”

“It’s not. I’m sorry.” Dustin closed his mouth and turned around as quick as he did before.

“I can do it,” Eleven broke in, looking over at Hopper.

“You’re not hearing me-” Hopper began.

“I am hearing you. I can do it.”

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem,” Mike argued. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max said.

“It is, but if we’re really right about this... I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer’s army.”

“Will’s a part of that army,” Lucas connected.

“Closing the gate will kill him,” Mike concluded.

Everyone was silent for a moment, letting Mike’s words sink in.

“But those creatures,” you began, thinking through your words, “they’re individual parts of the Mind Flayer. Will is just a vessel for the Mind Flayer. His life isn’t dependent of the Mind Flayer. So, if we kill off the Mind Flayer, I don’t think it will kill Will. It’ll just kill off the part of the Mind Flayer that’s inside of him.”

“I mean, I guess,” Mike sighed. “But do you think it’s safe to risk it?”

Silently, you shook your head, slouching slightly.

Joyce rose to her feet from her seat, walking from the kitchen and into Will’s room. Everyone followed behind her, like a silent parade of worry and fear.

You felt your stomach churn when you saw Will laying still in his bed, his skin damp with sweat despite the harsh chill of the room.

“He likes it cold,” Joyce spoke.

“What?” Hopper answered, looking at her confusedly.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” She moved to the open window, yanking it closed. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus, and Will’s the host, then...” Nancy said, looking down at Will.

“Then we need to make the host inhabitable,” Jonathan completed her thought.

“So if he likes it cold-”

“Then we need to burn it out of him,” Joyce concluded.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time,” Mike informed, trying to avoid what happened the last time.

“Yeah, somewhere far away,” Dustin agreed.

Hopper stepped forward from his spot against the wall. “I know a place,” he claimed as he wrapped the comforter on the bed around Will’s body, scooping him up into his arms. “Come on.”

Joyce and Jonathan followed behind Hopper as he rattled off directions, carrying Will out to Joyce’s car.

“We’ll need to find heaters, radiators, anything that would heat up a room,” Nancy instructed.

“There’s probably something in that pile of stuff we pulled out of the shed,” you told her.

She nodded, and the two of you hurried out into the backyard, Steve following close behind. Steve shone his flashlight on the pile of trash, the three of you quickly starting to search through it.

“You guys should go with him,” Steve spoke up, pulling a radiator out of the pile.

“What?” Nancy voiced, shining her flashlight on the pile as you rifled through it.

“With Jonathan.”

“No, I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”

“Or Dustin,” you added.

“No one’s leaving anyone,” Steve corrected. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but turns out I’m a pretty damn good babysitter.”

“No, you’re not taking my title of babysitter.” You stood up straight. “I’m staying here. Nancy, you should go with Jonathan.”

Nancy looked between you and Steve. “Are... Are you guys-”

“No!” You and Steve shouted simultaneously.

She sighed, looking down. “But Y/N, you and Jonathan-”

“Trust me, Nancy. He likes you a lot more than he could ever like me. It’s okay.”

She turned to look at Steve. “Steve...”

“It’s okay, Nance. It’s okay.”

She stood there silently, tears welling in her eyes. “Go, Nance,” you told her, patting her shoulder. “He needs you. We’re gonna be with the kids.”

You gathered the few heating materials you could find and carried them over to Jonathan’s car, blinking away the tears in your eyes. You set them in the backseat of the car before closing the door and walking up on the porch. Nancy climbed into the passenger seat and you gave them both a small wave before they drove away.

***

You had been sitting on the couch since everyone but the party and Steve had left, staring off into space and letting yourself wallow in your own pity.

“Alright, I think it should fit now,” Dustin announced, his voice startling you back to the present.

With a huff, you pushed yourself to your feet and walked over to the kitchen, letting out a sigh of frustration when you saw the mess on the floor Dustin had made. Behind him Steve stood with the demo-dog in his arms, which was wrapped in a blanket.

“Is this really necessary?” Steve grumbled.

“Yes, it is, okay? This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery. We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog.”

“No, it’s a creature from the upside down. And I don’t know if you remember this, but we could be killed if we even talk about this to anybody,” you reminded Dustin, pointing to the limp creature.

“They’ll never know. Everyone who works there is probably dead now anyway.”

“It’s the government, Dustin! It’s not like it’s a singular entity!”

“Alright, alright,” Steve spoke up. “We’ll just keep this in the fridge until we know what to do with it. Sound good?”

You nodded silently. “Fine. But you’re buying the Byers’ a new fridge.” You turned to Dustin. “And you’re explaining this to Joyce.”

Steve stepped forward and began to try and shove the creature into the fridge, only to smack its head against the side of it. “Christ, help me out here!”

“What am I supposed to do!” Dustin argued.

“Get the door, man!”

Steve wedged the creature into the fridge, all while grumbling profanities, and Dustin closed the fridge door behind it.

From the other room, you could hear Lucas and Mike bickering, but you were too focused on the creature in the fridge to decipher exactly what it was about.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?” Steve broke in, stepping into the living room.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game,” Mike snapped. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

Steve stammered for a response, feeling defeated by Mike’s argument. “So my point is...” He stopped, searching for the words to say. “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench. So, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin claimed. “I mean, these demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“If we get their attention...” Lucas voiced.

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max finished his thought.

“Clear a path to the gate,” Mike concluded.

“Yeah, and then we all die,” Steve countered, shutting the conversation down immediately.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin hummed.

“No, that’s not a point of view man. That’s a fact.”

“I got it!” Mike exclaimed hurrying out of the room and into the kitchen, kneeling down in front of a certain point on the map of tunnels. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So...” He pushed himself to his feet, running over to another spot on the map. “Here. Right here. This is like a hub. So you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire-”

“Oh yeah. That’s a no,” Steve attempted to shut down.

“The mind flayer would call away his army,” Dustin continued.

“They’d all come to stop us,” Lucas added.

“We circle back to the exit!” Mike joined in.

“Guys-” Steve warned.

“By the time they realize we’re gone,” Mike ignored Steve.

“El would be at the gate!” Max finished.

“Hey, hey hey!” Steve shouted, clapping his hands. “This is not happening.”

“But-” Mike whined.

“No, no, no, no, no. No but’s. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting on the starting team to do their job. Y/N, help me out here.” He turned to look at you.

You shrugged, pursing your lips. “I mean...” you sighed. “Maybe it would work?”

Steve scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“This isn’t a sports game, Steve. This is someone’s life, someone who I care a lot about. I don’t think I can just sit on the sidelines and wait.”

Just as Steve was about to argue, the sound of a loud engine revving echoed from the silent night outside. Max got up and ran over to the windows to investigate, everyone else following behind her.

“It’s my brother,” she announced. “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

You wrung your hands together nervously. “Okay, you guys get out of sight. Steve and I will try and talk to him,” you instructed before you and Steve hurried onto the front porch, closing the door behind you.

The car lurched to a stop and Billy got out of the car, a cigarette between his lips. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” he shouted from his car, smoke falling from his mouth like a dragon.

“Yeah, it’s me don’t cream your pants,” Steve huffed, his hands on his hips.

“And who’s that little lady who’s with you? That your new girlfriend, buddy?”

“No!” you and Steve shouted simultaneously.

“Why does everyone think that?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve just shook his head, walking over to Billy as Billy shucked his jacket off. “What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy questioned.

“I could ask you the same question. Amigo,” Steve scoffed.

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh. That’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small. Redhead. A bit of a bitch.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

Billy pulled the cigarette out from between his lips. “You know, I don’t know, this... This whole situation, Harrington. I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh yeah. Why’s that?”

“My 13-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you in a stranger’s house. And you lie to me about it.”

Steve chuckled. “Man, we’re you dropped too much on your head as a child, or what? I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

“Then who is that?” Billy pointed to the window, and you all turned to see all of the kids’ heads peeking through the window.

“Oh shit,” Steve sighed. “Listen-”

Billy grabbed the Steve’s jacket before shoving him to the ground. “I told you to plant your feet.”

Steve groaned out in pain, and Billy kicked him in the stomach before stomping past him and up the porch.

“I’d advise you to back up, and go the fuck home,” you hissed, squaring your shoulders as he stepped up onto the porch.

“Aw, that’s cute. Now if you wouldn’t mind scooching over, that’d be real great,” Billy hummed, his eyes dead as he bent down to your level.

“Go fuck yourself.” You picked up your foot and kicked him in the knee, making him stagger for a moment.

“You’re a feisty bitch, aren’t ya?” He stood up straight and grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it tightly before shoving you to the side, pushing you away from the door. You fell onto your hip, letting out a hiss of pain as he stomped through the front door. It slammed shut a moment later, and you scrambled to your feet.

You pushed the door back open, seeing that Billy had already backed all the kids into a corner. “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max,” Billy hissed.

“Billy, go away,” Max begged.

“You disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me.”

“Billy-”

“I break things.” Billy turned to Lucas and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, backing him up into the kitchen and shoving him up against a cabinet as everyone shouted at him to stop.

Billy got in Lucas’ face, hissing something you couldn’t quite make out, and a moment later, Lucas shoved his knee into Billy’s groin, making Billy stumble back in pain.

“So dead Sinclair! You’re dead,” Billy growled.

Steve popped up behind him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. “No, you are,” Steve huffed before swinging his fist, having it connect with Billy’s nose.

“So you’re abusive and racist, huh, Billy?” you hissed, stepping forward so you were next to Steve.

Billy stood up straight, laughing maniacally. “Oh sweetheart, I already knew you had some fire in you. But it looks like Steve actually has some fire in him after all! I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve that everyone’s been telling me so much about.”

“I mean, we could, but I think all that hair muffles your hearing a little bit, bud,” you growled.

Steve held his hand out, signaling you to stop, before he gently shoved Billy back. “Get out,” Steve stated simply.

Billy stared at him for a moment before swinging a punch, which you and Steve effectively dodged. Steve swung and landed another one on the left side of Billy’s face. You stepped forward and elbowed him right in the ribs, making him hunch forward. Steve landed a few more punches as you stayed back and guarded the kids.

Billy was backed up against the sink, and he grabbed a plate and broke it over Steve’s head, making Steve stagger. You immediately hurried forward to try and block Steve, only for BIlly to shove you to the side and land a punch to Steve’s face.

Billy stomped forward and held Steve up by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do!” Billy shouted in Steve’s face before colliding his forehead with Steve’s, sending him flying.

You ran up and hopped onto Billy’s back, wrapping your arm around his neck in a chokehold as you tried to yank him back. With your other hand, you pulled at his hair with all your might. Billy surged forward, flinging you off his back and sending you tumbling to the ground.

You laid there limply and watched as Billy knelt over Steve’s body and mercilessly landed punch after punch to Steve’s face. From your peripheral, you watched Max approach him, a syringe in her hand. She stabbed the needle into Billy’s neck and injected him with the tranquilizer that was in it.

Billy froze, the syringe sticking out of his neck as he registered what had happened. He stumbled to his feet and turned to face Max, a look of shock on his face. He yanked the syringe from his neck, looking between it and Max. “The hell is this?” he slurred. “You little shit, what did you do?” He swayed for a few moments before falling back onto the floor.

Max grabbed Steve’s bat from the floor and held it over her head. “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?” she growled.

“Screw you,” he mumbled.

Max swung the bat down, landing it in a space on the floor just between his legs. She ripped it from the floor and held it above her head once more. “Say you understand! Say it! Say it!”

“I understand.”

“What?”

“I understand.” He finally succumbed to the drug, and Max stepped forward to grab the keys from Billy’s pocket.

Dustin immediately rushed over to you, helping you to your feet. “Do you think you can drive?” he asked.

You scoffed. “I can barely drive normally. There’s no way. I can barely see anything. I think I have a concussion.”

“I can drive,” Max announced.

“Alright,” you mumbled, too tired and out of it to argue. You followed her into the car, sitting down in the back as all the boys attempted to carry Steve’s limp body.

*** You were all nearly to the hole when you heard Dustin talking beside you. “Is he awake?” you grumbled, lifting your head from the car window.

“What’s going on?” Steve grumbled. “Oh my god!”

“Just relax, she’s driven before,” Dustin reassured Steve, trying to keep him calm.

“Yeah, in a parking lot,” Mike argued.

“That counts!” Lucas defended.

“They were gonna leave you behind,” Dustin continued.

“Oh my god!” Steve shouted again.

“I promised that you’d be cool, okay?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Steve cried out as Max picked up speed. “oh my god. No! Whoa! Stop the car! Slow down!”

“I told you he’d freak out!” Mike shouted.

“Stop the car!”

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max chided.

“Shhh! My head hurts and you’re all being too loud!” you whined, clutching your head.

“Oh wait, that’s Mount Sinai! Make a left!” Lucas instructed.

“What?” Max voiced, beginning to panic.

“Make a left!”

Max immediately jerked the wheel, taking out a mailbox as she swerved slightly before turning sharply into a field. She sped quickly through the field before screeching to a hard stop right in front of the hole. “I told you, zoomer,” Max hummed before parking the car and hopping out.

You all filed out of the car and headed to the trunk, pulling out the supplies the boys had packed away before you left the house. You all quickly slipped on your goggles and bandanas before grabbing your gear.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Steve voiced, trying to find his footing as Mike rushed past him. “What, are you deaf? Hello?” Steve looked around at everyone else who was already suited up. “We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear.” Steve turned to you. “Hey, there’s no chance we are going to that hole, alright? This ends right now!” Steve grabbed Dustin’s bag from his hands and threw it to the ground.

“Steve, you’re upset, I get it,” Dustin soothed. “But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know that you promised Nance that you would keep us safe, so keep us safe.” Dustin grabbed Steve’s backpack from the trunk and handed it to him.

You grabbed your machete and patted Steve shoulder. “So suit up, loverboy,” you hummed, brushing past him.

He sighed before reluctantly taking the backpack and putting on the mask and goggles Dustin had brought for him.

Once he was ready, he stepped in front of the group and stared down the hole, letting out another sigh before helping everyone down into the hole. He hopped down afterwards, pausing for a moment to take in the new atmosphere.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way,” Mike instructed, referring to the quick makeshift map he had copied from Will’s drawings.

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin urged, looking in the same direction Mike was facing.

“I’m 100% sure. Just follow me and you’ll know.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. I don’t think so,” Steve argued, stopping Mike in his tracks.

“What?” Mike huffed.

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?”

“Steve,” you scolded, arching a brow at him.

“Sorry.” He let out a breath. “From now on, I’m leading the way. Come on, let’s go.” He began marching forward, trying to get this done as quick as possible.

It had only been about 20 minutes or so when the strange ashy substance in the air grew thicker, acting as a fog of sorts..

“God,” Lucas stated incredulously.

“What is this place?” Max pondered, slowing her pace to look around.

“Guys, come on. Keep moving,” Steve commanded.

Everyone continued trudging forward, but froze in fear when they heard a shriek coming from a few feet behind them. “Shit!”

You all hurried back, seeing Dustin stumbling around blindly and screaming for help.

“What happened?” You urged, falling to your knees in front of him.

“It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth! Shit!” he screeched, pulling his bandana down from around his face and spitting on the ground. A few moments later, after effectively expelling all the spit in his mouth, he took a deep breath and looked up at everyone. “I’m okay.”

“Jesus Christ,” You grumbled, pushing him by his forehead before you got to your feet.

After Dustin got to his feet, Steve continued marching forward. “Y/N, you’re manning the rear from now on!” he shouted from his position at the front.

“Yes sir,” you grumbled with an eye roll before stepping to the back of the line.

***

“Alright, Wheeler,” Steve announced after another few minutes of walking. “I think we found your hub.

You all stepped closer, closing the line up into a small cluster so you could all observe the large clearing Steve was referring to.

“Drench it,” Mike instructed, and everyone immediately got to work spraying weed killer, kerosene, gasoline, and any other flammable substance on the large clearing filled with strange-looking vines.

You all had made quick work of covering the surface area of the clearing, making the entire area reek of chemicals.

The six of you were backed a few feet into the tunnel you came from, with Steve sitting in the front, his lighter in his hand. “I am in such deep shit,” he sighed before flicking the lighter on and tossing in into the pit, watching as it instantaneously burst into flames.

“Okay we gotta go before the demo-dogs get here,” you instructed, pushing yourself to your feet and quickly ushering everyone past you before taking your spot at the end of the line. Everyone’s pace quickened into a run as you tried to get out of the tunnels as fast as possible.

You had only made it a few hundred yards into the tunnels, however, when Mike stumbled and fell to the ground. You reached your hand down to help him up, only to see the vines quickly moving and snaking around his ankles. “Shit, shit,” you whispered, moving to try and pry them off him. “Guys! Guys, get back here!”

Everyone came running back, quickly working to help Mike get out. Steve raised his bat above his head and swung down in an attempt to crush the vines that held Mike captive, only for them to flinch and continue.

You shooed Steve out of the way and swung your machete down, severing the vines and watching them fall limply off Mike’s ankles. Dustin and Lucas quickly pulled him up and you all turned to hurry off.

You let out a sigh of relief and moved to follow behind them, only to feel a tight grip on your ankles. Panic rose in your throat as you felt them tug, yanking you to the ground. You fell hard on your back, all the air leaving your lungs as your body thumped silently to the ground. Through blurred vision, you watched the group walk forward, not realizing that anything was wrong. Your eyes flickered down to your ankles, now trapped in two snaking vines that began slithering up your body.

Bile rose in your throat and you kicked with all your might, only to have one vine snake around your waist and arms, holding you down. Another vine wormed around your throat and contracted, cutting off your air supply. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, to move, to speak. You watched as one last vine slipped under your goggles and handkerchief, exposing you to the toxic environment. Your vision slowly began to fade, all of your senses quickly diminishing as you felt your body slip away from consciousness.

Then you heard the stampede.

Demo-dogs trampled over your near-lifeless body, clawing at your clothes and skin as they went. Blood began to well from the cuts, letting out a silent scream when one clawed straight down from your forehead to your cheek and sliced your eye.

Blood flooded into your eyes and your nose and your mouth as everything slowly fell dark and silent.

***

Steve hoisted the last boy up before he tugged himself out of the hole, letting out a tired huff as he landed on the soft earth. His eyes searched around the group, doing a mental count.

And then another one.

“Guys?” he voiced, body filling with worry. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s right-” Dustin began, turning around only to see that you weren’t standing behind him. “Shit.”

Everyone’s eyes grew wide and Steve immediately sat up, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. “Okay, when was the last time we saw her?”

“At those vines,” Mike said, his voice wavering with fear. “Oh my god.”

Steve looked down into the hole before looking back at the group. “You guys stay here. I’m gonna go find her.”

He tugged the handkerchief over his mouth before diving back into the hole and sprinting down the tunnel.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?!” His heart was pounding in his chest as his mind raced with all the possible scenarios that could’ve happened, all of the things that could’ve happened to you.

Then he heard the soft whimpers.

He froze for a moment, listening. Then he ran faster than he ever had before, faster than when he was being chased by the demogorgon, faster than he thought possible.

“S-Steve,” you choked out, voice strained and shaky. You had only woken up moments before, the grip on your neck now gone.

“Oh my god.” His stomach twisted at the sight of you when your body came into view.

Every inch of your body was covered in cuts, blood, bruises, and vines. Your hair was matted and coated in a thick layer of dirt and gore, your eyes drooping so low he couldn’t tell if they were open or not.

He knelt down beside you and grabbed your machete that was lying just out of your reach, immediately slicing through the vines that kept you pinned to the ground. The moment you were free of your restraints, he scooped you up into his arms with the gentle touch that he would use to hold a baby, minding your wounds. “You’re okay, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“Hurts,” you cried. “I can’t see.”

“I know. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. You’ll be okay.”

“D… Don’t let Dustin s-see me. Please.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

After a minute, which felt like hours to you, you arrived at the opening. “Dustin…”

“I know.” He looked up, seeing the clear starry sky. “Hey Dustin, I need you to close your eyes, bud.”

“Wait, why? Is Y/N okay?” Dustin shouted back leaning over to peek into the hole.

Steve immediately stepped back, hiding your body from view. “Please, dude. Just for now.”

Dustin, noting Steve’s panicked tone, nodded and stepped back, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, they’re closed.”

“Okay, guys, I need you to help me get Y/N up and out.”

The two boys and Max peeked their heads in, their stomachs lurching at the sight of you. “Holy shit,” Lucas whispered. Immediately, they all reached down and pulled you up as Steve lifted you. They dragged you away from the hole and fell back, panic in their eyes. “What do we do?”

“We get her to a hospital.” Once Steve got his footing, he scooped you back up and carried you out of the pit. “Can someone radio Jonathan and Nancy and Joyce?”

“It’s in the car,” Max admitted, voice shaking with fear. “Okay, we need to go. Try to get ahold of them.”

As the group stepped towards the car, the headlights began to shine brightly, blinding them for a few moments from the sheer power of it. “Eleven,” Mike whispered. “She did it.”

Once the lights faded, Max hurried to the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, starting the car and speeding off once everyone was inside and you were safely situated.

Mike grabbed the radio from off the seat and began to search for Hopper’s radio at once, trying to recall the channel Hopper had told Jonathan earlier. Once the radio stopped buzzing with static and was now filled with silence, he pressed the button and began to shout for Jonathan. “Jonathan, this is Mike, do you copy?”

“Mike?” Jonathan’s voice came through the machine after a few moments of silence, his voice crackly and tinny.

“There’s an emergency. Y/N, she…” Mike cleared his throat, images of your torn up body flashing through his mind. “She’s not doing good. We’re on our way to the hospital right now.”

“W-What happened? What do you mean she’s not doing good?”

“She got hurt. Really bad. Just… Just come to the hospital as soon as you can.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

***

As soon as Max pulled up to the hospital, the flash of Jonathan’s headlights shone into the car. He sprinted out of the car before it was even parked correctly, leaving the keys in the ignition.

He could get a new car. Buy a new battery. He couldn’t get you back if he lost you.

“Jonathan,” Steve said, noting his presence with a breath of relief. “I’m gonna get the kids inside. Can you get Y/N?”

Jonathan nodded, feeling as if his mind and heart were detached from his body, running further and further apart with each moment.

Once he made sure the kids were inside, he yanked the front passenger seat down to get to you.

At that moment, his body, heart, and mind collided, bringing him to the shocking present. The feeling could be compared to being dunked in ice water, every part of your body and soul being forced into fight-or-flight mode while you still hadn’t comprehended what was happening.

“J…” you muttered, eyes fluttering open to search for him.

“Hey, hey, it’s me. You’re okay,” he whispered, gently scooping you up and getting you out of the car.

“H-hurts.”

“I know. Don’t speak, it’ll make you weaker.”

The moment your body was fully exposed to the cruel and unforgiving fluorescent lights of the hospital, he felt as if he was going to faint.

Your blood had already began to congeal, caking onto your skin and making your clothes cling to your body. Your right eye had a large gash through it, your eyeball scratched and possibly split. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he choked out, walking through the doors of the hospital. He knew he should’ve been looking ahead, searching for a nurse or doctor to help you, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of yours. “I’m sorry.”

With every last bit of energy that you had left in you, you reached up and cupped his cheek, cracking a small smile. “It’ll be okay, Johnny Boy.” A harsh cough ripped through your body, making blood trickle down your lips. “I...I love you.”

With that, you were taken from his arms and placed on a gurney, whisked away from him, leaving him to drown in his own thoughts.

***

“She’s awake,” the doctor announced the moment she stepped into the waiting room, effectively drawing everyone’s attention.

“Can we see her?” Mike asked, eyes pleading.

“Only one at a time, but yes.”

Everyone looked to Dustin. “She’s your sister, you should probably see her first,” Max explained, nudging his shoulder.

Dustin nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath before following the doctor into your room. “Be fairly quiet, she may have a slight migraine from the blood loss.” With that, the doctor left the room.

“Hey Dusty,” you choked out, voice hoarse and crackly.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he spoke, a scared smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm, high right now. Probably feel like shit later. They gave me a ton of painkillers.” You tried to flash him a small smile, but winced from the pain that shot through your face when you did so. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “I-I’m okay now. I was kinda scared.”

“I’m sorry. I-I should’ve called for help before it got too bad. I just… Thought I could handle it.”

“It’s not your fault.”You nodded. “How are we gonna explain this to mom?” you joked after a moment of silence.

“We’ll say you got taken and they had some dogs attack you.”

“How long have you been thinking that through?”

“Ever since we got here.”

You let out a chuckle, shifting slightly with a small wince. “So, have they told you guys what all is wrong with me, or are they just waiting for me to find out myself?”

“Well, they said that you have a bruised windpipe, a few broken ribs, a concussion, your eye got cut, and there were a lot of cuts on your body.”

“God, they really did a number on me, huh?”

He nodded, letting out a small chuckle. You couldn’t tell if it was real or if it was just to comfort you, but it calmed you down nonetheless. “The doctors said that you get to come home once you’re stable. They said in about 2 days, if everything goes okay.”

“I’m excited to be home. Gonna eat all the rest of your Halloween candy.” A cough rattled your body, causing you to shiver for a moment afterwards from the feeling of your organs seizing up. A small dribble of blood dripped down your lips, but you quickly wiped it away before he could see.

“Everyone’s excited for you to be home. They’re all outside waiting for you.”

“Really? Why aren’t they in here?”

“The doctor said only one person could come in at a time.”

“Fuck what the doctors say. Tell them to come in here. I wanna see them.”

Dustin flashed a genuine smile this time, running out of the room to grab everybody.

***

Jonathan thought that the most heartbreaking thing he would experience was him losing his little brother, knowing there was virtually nothing he could do to help him.

But when he saw you laying in that hospital bed, half of your body covered in bandages with wires sticking out of your body, he knew that that sight was an extremely close second.

A wide smile spread over your face when you saw everyone flood into the room. “Hi guys,” you rasped.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” Nancy whispered, tears springing to her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You shook your head slightly. “I’m okay. I-It doesn’t matter.” You searched around the room. “Where’s Will? Is he okay?”

"He’s resting at home,” Mike explained. “He’s okay.”

Questions and concerns were voiced by every person, all eyes on you as you consoled them and reassured them that you were fine. The doctor came in about 15 minutes later, instructing that everyone leave so you could get some rest. Everyone did as they were told, stepping out of the room to give you space.

Well, almost everyone.

Jonathan stood in the corner of the room and waited until the room was cleared out to sit down in the hard plastic seat next to your bed, remorseful eyes trained on your face.

“So, are you an exception to the doctor’s orders, now?” you teased, reaching out and giving his shoulder a weak squeeze.

“I-I’ll leave if you want,” he said, sitting up slightly, ready to leave at any moment.

You shook your head. “No, stay. I missed you.”

He let a small smile crack on his face, his hand slipping into yours with a cautious touch. “I missed you too.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Jonathan, like I told everyone else, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter.” You squeezed his hand, wincing slightly at the tug on your broken skin when you did so. “You basically witnessed your brother get exorcised. I… I wouldn’t be okay if I saw that.”

He let out a sigh. “I’m not okay, but I will be. He’s okay now, that’s all that matters.” He squeezed your hand in return, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. “Besides, that’s not really what’s on my mind.”

You tilted your head, confusion furrowing your brows and scrunching your nose slightly. “What’s on your mind, Johnny Boy?”

Another sigh, followed by him shifting in his chair. “Do you remember anything when you got to the hospital?”

You shook your head. “No. I-It’s all kinda fuzzy. I guess blood loss and oxygen deprivation does that to you.” You let out a small chuckle, silencing when you noticed the distressed look on his face. “Why?”

“Steve…” He bit down on his lip, thinking of what to say. “Steve told me to bring you in while he took care of the kids.” You stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “When I carried you in, you…” He brushed a hand through his hair. “You told me you loved me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes growing wide for a split second. “Well, I do love you, Jonathan. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for. Even after this week.”

“And I’m really sorry about that. Truly. I… Doing that to you is one of my biggest regrets.” He let out a sigh, eyes darting back and forth as if he was reading from an imaginary script. “But you... You said it like-” A frustrated huff. “Like you loved me, romantically.”

Your lips pursed, silent as you searched for a response. “Like I said, I was on the brink of death.” A shrug. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re with Nancy.”

“But it does matter!”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t, Jonathan. You’ll learn this eventually, but what I feel doesn’t matter on the grand scale of things.”

“It does to me.”

“Why are you so hung up on this? I was almost dead! Forgive me if I say some stupid shit!”

“Because I love you too!”

You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths before letting out a small chuckle. “Jonathan, th-this isn’t funny.”

“You’re right. It’s not funny. I love you, and I’m serious.”

“If you do love me, like you say you do, then you wouldn’t have pined after Nancy so much. Maybe you do love me, but definitely not as much as you love Nancy-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Jonathan. Like I said, what I feel doesn’t matter.” You squeezed his hand once more, feeling tears spring to your eyes. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“But I’m not happy if you’re not happy.”

“But I just said that I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“Well, I’m not fucking happy-”

“But you are, Jonathan. You seek out happiness, and you found it with Nancy.”

“But I found it with you too.”

“But who did you choose in the end?”

Silence.

“Exactly.”

He shook his head, letting out a scoff. “Don’t just ‘exactly’ me.”

“What do you want me to say? That you should break up with Nancy and be with me?”

“Yes!”

“Then you really don’t know me at all, do you?”

He clenched his jaw, fingers of his free hand curled into a fist. With a puff of air through his nose, he pushed himself onto his feet and leaned over you, pressing a gentle but firm kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in shock, but you couldn’t force yourself to pull away.

He broke the kiss a moment later, squeezing his eyes shut and letting go of your hand. “Just give me some time, please?” he whispered, taking a few steps towards the door.

“Don’t I always, Byers?” you choked out, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

***

Dustin had stepped through the doors with a big smile on his face and even bigger hair. You leaned over and waved at Steve in his car before stepping over to your brother, pulling him into a side hug and hovering your hand over his head. “Hey, don’t mess up the hair! It took me like 30 minutes!” he squealed, prompting a laugh from you.

“God, you’re getting more and more like Steve every day,” you teased, giving his shoulder a squeeze before letting him go and going back over to Nancy behind the punch bowl.

With a sigh, you leaned down and rested your elbows against the table, keeping your face cast downwards to avoid scaring the kids too much.

No matter how many times you had begged your Principal, the PTA manager, even the teachers setting up the dance to dismiss you from your chaperone responsibilities due to your injuries, they denied because “it was your choice to volunteer in the first place” and “maybe you can scare the kids straight.” Yeah, just wonderful.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Nancy told you once again, nudging your shoulder before pouring a glass of punch for a kid.

“Yeah, this gigantic gash on my face sure does go well with my hair and makeup,” you huffed snarkily, waiting until the kid had walked away to sit up straight and turn to face her. “Besides, you don’t have to reassure me all the time. I know I look scary. It’s fine. I’m accepting it.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head. “You’re so stubborn, you know that? Can’t you just accept a compliment?”

“I don’t accept things that aren’t true.”

“Hmm?” She voiced, turning to you. Of course she wasn’t listening to you. Why would she when she had someone else she could pay attention to.

You shook your head, pursing your lips as you stared into the punch bowl. “You know you don’t have to hang out with me the whole time.”

“Y/N-”

“Go. Hang out with Jonathan. I really don’t care. Besides, I don’t think serving punch requires two people, anyways.”

She was silent for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, Nance. Go have fun. One of us needs to have some.”

She left your side the second the last word left your mouth, immediately hurrying over to hang out with Jonathan. You blew out a long breath through your slightly open lips, eyes glancing over the crowd of middle schoolers before returning to the punch bowl, staring at it as if it held all the secrets you needed.

The song changed and you listened to the shuffling of feet along the gym floor as everyone searched for someone to dance for, or they were retreating into a corner to avoid confrontation at all costs. You drummed your fingers along the table and chewed on your lower lip, finally sitting up straight and staring into the crowd directly. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips when you saw that Will and Lucas were already swept off into the crowd. You knew Mike was waiting for El, so you didn’t worry about him. Dustin, however, was a different story.

You watched as he stepped into a crowd of girls, only for them to ignore him, and then laugh at his attempt to woo them. A small pit of dread settled in the pit of your stomach, but you watched as he pushed on. Only to be rejected again. He then retreated over to the bleachers, his gaze focused on the ground.

You searched the crowd and, after deciding that no one would come over to the punch table for a while, headed over to Dustin. “I guess this isn’t either of our nights, huh?” you voiced, plopping down next to him. With a sigh, you reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing slightly. “Don’t take it personally, Dusty. Middle school girls are assholes.”

“You weren’t,” he huffed, still staring at the floor. “And El and Max aren’t.”

“Popular middle school girls are assholes.” you nudged his shoulder. “You’ll find someone, I know you will. You just have to give it some time. You’re gonna be like the new Steve when you get to high school. You’re gonna get all the girls.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You two sat in silence for a moment before he spoke.

“Why aren’t you talking to Jonathan?”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head slightly. “What do you mean? We-we always talk.”

“Will said you’ve been avoiding Jonathan. Besides, it’s pretty obvious, Y/N.”

“I’ve just been busy.”

“Manning the punch bowl while Nancy talks to him?”

“They’re dating now. It’s fine.”

“Well you don’t look like you’re fine with it.”

“Do you have to be right all the time?”

“It’s a curse.”

You let out a chuckle before sighing, eyes glancing up at the couple for a moment before going to the floor. “There’s just not a point in trying anymore. They’re happy. I can’t compete with Nancy. It’s better to just… Let it go.”

Another pause. “Jonathan really likes you, you know.”

You shook your head. “He may have used to. Any feelings he has for me are strictly platoni-”

“Everyone saw him kiss you at the hospital.”

His words made you choke on your spit, your heart nearly stopping right there. “... Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Well not everyone. But the party saw it. And mom. And Joyce. And Hopper. And Steve.”

“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “You couldn’t have told me then? Or at least at a time other than now?” Your toe nervously tapped against the wooden floor. Then, in a small voice, you asked, “... Did Nancy see?”

“Not that I know of. I think she was getting snacks at the vending machine.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Then another silence.

You didn’t even notice the sound of approaching footsteps as you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, your heart nearly stopping once more when you saw Nancy’s shoes come into view. “Hey Dustin,” her voice rang clearly.

Dustin looked up, offering her a shy smile. “Hey.”

“Wanna dance?”

“What?”

Nancy reached her hand out. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Dustin took her hand with hesitance, glancing over at you. You gave him a nod and a big smile, letting go of his other hand to let him go with her. “Like I said, Dustin. Ladies man,” you teased.

He gave you a big smile in return and rose to his feet, letting Nancy lead him to the dance floor. Nancy turned to glance back at you, and you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her. She nodded and flashed you a smile of her own before disappearing into the crowd of people.

As soon as the two of them were out of eyesight, you slouched back down in your seat, smoothing your hands over the tulle of your dress. You let your eyes flutter closed as you listened to the music, trying to keep yourself in the present to avoid your emotions from going haywire. That was a bad idea, however, as the moment you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of that horrid night in the tunnels. Your eyes snapped back open a moment later, and a heavy sigh fell from your lips.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Jonathan standing there, his arms crossed over his chest and a sheepish look on his face.

“Hey,” you hummed, mirroring his sheepish look. He sat down next to you, his arms unfolding so he could clasp his hands together and rest them in his lap. “You look nice. You should wear suits more.”

He scoffed, playfully nudging his shoulder with yours.

“What, I’m serious! You look nice!” You turned to face him, letting a smile grow on your lips.

“You look nice, too. Seriously.”

You let out a sigh. “You don’t have to say that, you know.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“But I’m not lying.”

You chewed on your lower lip, your smile almost completely faded away. “Did Nancy send you over here?”

“Why would you think she did that?”

You shrugged. “Pity? That’s one of her strong suits.”

“What if I told you that I came over here because I wanted to? Because I missed you and I wanted to see you?”

“Then I’d say that you’re lying.” You held back another sigh, staring him straight in the eye. “Jonathan, you really don’t need to baby me or pity me. I already get enough of that from everyone else.”

“I’m treating you like a normal human being, not pitying you-”

“But I’m not a normal fucking human! Look at me! I look like a fucking monster!”

He let out a huff and unfurled one of your hands that was tightly gripping the fabric of your dress. He rose to his feet and grabbed your now-unfurled hand, pulling you to your feet as well. “Come on.”

“Jonathan-”

“No, no whining. Come on.” He led you past the crowd and past the bleachers, over to the exit. He pushed past the doors and walked down the hallway, stopping in front of the stairs.

“What are we doing? We can’t leave the gym-”

“Y/N, just be quiet for once. Okay?”

You nodded, watching him as he pulled a tape from out of his pocket. He let go of your hand and stepped behind you, placing the tape into the tape deck of the stereo you had failed to notice. There was a small gap of static as the tape wound before the familiar notes of “Melt with You” by Modern English began to play.

A smile graced your lips once again, eyes twinkling with joy and appreciation. He stepped back over to you, taking both of your hands into his. “Is… Is this okay?”

You let out a chuckle, nodding immediately. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” You slowly slipped your hands away from his so you could snake your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. His hands wound around your waist a moment later, his head resting against your shoulder.

“Anything for you.”

You sniffled slightly, leaning your head against his chest as you two slowly began to sway along to the music.

The song stood out to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. “I didn’t know you could stomach putting this song on a mixtape,” you teased.

Then it hit you.

“Isn’t this song also on your mixtape for Nancy? That ‘For Her’ mixtape?” You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him.

He sighed. “Y/N, that mixtape wasn’t for her. It never was. I… Hold on.” He stepped away from you and crouched down by the stereo , grabbing the plastic casette case. He traced his fingers over the words on the index card that was taped to the inside for a moment before getting back up and handing it to you. “Read the songs.”

“I-I don’t know how this proves-”

“Just read them. Please.”

You sighed, but obliged. “One, ‘Melt With You’ by Modern English-”

“The song you’d play in my car on a loop when it first came out.”

You pursed your lips slightly before continuing. “Two, ‘Love Will Tear us Apart’ by Joy Division.”

“Your favorite song off of their album.”

“Three, ‘This Must be the Place’ by Talking Heads.”

“The song you said reminded you of us. That as long as we’re together, everything is okay.”

You skimmed over the rest of the song list. “So all these songs make you think of me?”

He chuckled. “Well, everything makes me think of you. But these songs are yours. It’s your playlist.” He stepped forward, taking your hand in his. “Everything I do is for you. I guess it just took me a while to realize it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked down at the ground to avoid his gaze. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just... I wanted you to know.”

You nodded slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his. A small smile rested on your face and you squeezed his hand before wrapping your free arm around him. “I do really love you. And I know that it’s too late, but I just don’t think I can keep it in anymore.”

He nodded, slowly beginning to sway to the music once again. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

toxic love ~ rook

word count: 1453

request?: yes!

“Hey! Can you do a rook x reader (girlfriend) where she writes a song about a bad love, and rook finds it and thinks is about him but it isn't. Kind angsty and fluffy? Pretty please!”

description: when rook finds a song written by his girlfriend, he starts to worry that it’s about him

pairing: rook x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship

masterlist

Rook smiled at his girlfriend and best friend, who were sat together in the studio when he walked in. (Y/N) turned and smiled at Rook, jumping up from her chair and hugging him tightly.

“How’s the album coming along?” he asked the two of them as he passed (Y/N) and Colson a coffee each.

“Rook, your girl is the best songwriter I think I’ve ever met,” Colson said. “She’s really helping to kick my writer’s block’s ass. We’ve blown through as least like five songs.”

Rook smiled proudly at his girlfriend as he pulled up a chair next to her. “I told you, man, she’s a genius. She just needed someone else to see that musical genius.”

“I am definitely not a genius,” (Y/N) chuckled. “But I do appreciate the complement.”

Between Colson and (Y/N) was the book that (Y/N) kept her written songs in. The pages were filled with lyrics that (Y/N) wrote whenever they came to her head, only a few of them being actual finished songs. Stuck out from the pages was a page that Rook could only make out the end of the scribbling on top to be a song title.

“What’s this one?”

He started to reach for it, but was stopped when (Y/N) slammed her hand onto the book and pulling it towards her. Both Colson and Rook looked at her in shock and confusion. A tense smile came on her face. “It’s a shitty song. I actually regret writing it and I meant to throw that page away. Sorry, I just don’t want anyone reading it.”

“I’m sure it’s great, baby,” Rook told her, putting an arm around her and kissing her forehead. “But if you don’t want anyone reading it that’s up to you.”

(Y/N) nodded, relaxing against Rook and kissing his cheek.

The group decided to go out to get something to eat and take a break from writing and recording. They got into Rook’s car and were about to leave when Rook realized he was missing something.

“I left my wallet in the studio,” he said. “I’ll grab it, one second.”

Colson passed him the studio keys and Rook went in to find his wallet. It was left on the chair he had been sat in, obviously having fell out of his pocket when he stood. He had every intention of just leaving and going with (Y/N) and Colson for food, until his eyes landed on (Y/N)’s writing book, which she had left on her own chair.

She said she didn’t want anyone to read the song that was still poked out from the pages. She said it wasn’t any good. Rook knew he had to respect her wishes, and that if she said she didn’t want anyone to read the song then he should leave it be. But curiosity was getting the best of him. There was just something pulling him to look at the song.

He slid the paper free from the book and took a moment to let his eyes skim over it. He paused and went back to the beginning to read it in detail. The song was about a relationship, one that was seemingly happy but behind the scenes the writer, (Y/N), was dying inside. She felt neglected, unhappy, and couldn’t think of a way out. She loved the man she was with, but couldn’t tell if he genuinely loved her or not.

Rook read the words over and over until they were embedded in his brain. He felt his blood run cold as he kept reading it. He tried to put himself in the shoes of the boyfriend in question, trying to think back to any times that he may have done any of this stuff to (Y/N). The song couldn’t be about him, right? He treated (Y/N) like a queen, which is what she deserved. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone. Sure, they had their fights, but it was never anything to make them question their relationship. Was it?

“Did you find it, baby?”

Rook turned to find (Y/N) standing in the doorway. He didn’t have time to hide the song as her eyes seemed to naturally drift towards it. “Rook, what are you reading?”

When she snatched it from him, he let her. She looked at the paper and her face became a mixture of worry and anger. “You read the song I told you not to? Baby, that’s a total invasion of privacy!”

“Did you not want me to read it because it’s about me?” Rook asked.

“What?”

“Is the song about me? Is that why you didn’t want me to read it?”

“No! Of course not, it’s not about you.”

“Then why didn’t you want me to read it?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “So, I need to have a reason to ask my boyfriend not to read my private stuff? I just didn’t want you, or anyone for that matter, to read it. That’s it, end of story.”

“Then who is it written about if not me?”

“No one! It’s just...I just came up with it, okay? Drop it, Rook, let’s go eat.”

“If it’s about me, I want to know,” Rook said, stopping her before she could walk out again. “If you really feel this way about me, about our relationship, I want to know so I can do whatever I can to tell you different.”

“It’s not about you, it’s about my ex!” (Y/N) finally snapped. “Okay? The guy I dated about you, that’s who my song is about. Are you happy?”

She crumpled the paper and threw it into a nearby trash can before grabbing the book and tucking it into her bag. She wasn’t making eye contact with Rook as she did so.

“Why did you never tell me?” he asked her.

“I didn’t think it was important,” she shrugged. “Besides, the last thing I wanted was one more person pitying me for my toxic relationship. Literally everyone did, my family, my friends, even people who didn’t really know us but saw the worst sides of my ex. They’d all look at me with this sort of pity look whenever I tried to defend our relationship, and I’d hear people whispering about poor (Y/N), blinded by love, won’t leave her shitty boyfriend.”

Rook approached (Y/N) slowly as she spoke and took her in his arms. She relaxed into his arms, burying her head into his chest.

“I wouldn’t pity you, baby,” he told her. “I won’t even push you if you don’t want me to. I’m sorry I even asked, or that I looked at the song when you told me not to. The song wasn’t for me to look at, I’m sorry I violated your privacy like that.”

“I’m sorry I made such a big deal about you looking at the song,” (Y/N) sighed, her voice partially muffled by Rook’s chest. “It’s just...I wrote it while I was in my last relationship and I've been battling between giving it to someone or releasing it myself for years. When we started dating, I was willing to forget it all. That relationship was in the past and there was no reason to bring up old memories. But part of me just...couldn’t get rid of the song. Writing it was like a diary for me, a way to get my emotions out and to finally build the courage to end things with him. I kept it mainly to read over what I’ve gone through and how I managed to get through it and come out happy on the other side.”

“Now it’s in the garbage.”

(Y/N) pulled away to look over her shoulder at the garbage bin she had thrown the song into. It was the only thing in the bin, and it was only easy for her to reach in and take the paper out and put it back into her song book, as she had been doing for years when she tried to get rid of the song.

This time, though, she simply looked back to Rook, a small smile on her face. “Maybe that’s where it belongs. It’s been years, I’ve moved on to a better relationship. I’m happier now.”

Rook smiled and took her face in his hands, pulling her to him to kiss her deeply. (Y/N) smiled into the kiss and pulled away. “I love you, Rook.”

“I love you, too, (Y/N),” he responded. “We should get going, Colson’s probably left without us at this point.”

“Ah shit, that’s right he is waiting. Better get going, I guess.”

#rook #rook imagine #rook x reader #jp cappelletty #jp cappelletty imagine #jp cappelletty x reader #imagine #one shot #request

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secretly-tword-obsessed · 4 years

Text

One Spot

Promoted by an anon!

Summary: Jared is going through a tough time, but Evan and Connor think they can help!

Set in an AU where Connor never died and he, Evan and Jared became best friends!

“Oh, uh, hi Zoe”, Evan muttered, as Zoe stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway. Zoe just smiled at him: “Hey Evan”. Being best friends with Connor meant spending quite a lot of time at the Murphy’s house, which was great in theory, but seeing Connor’s younger sister Zoe so often was rather overwhelming. Evan had a huge crush on Zoe, but he put so much effort into making sure that she wouldn’t find out that it was kind of draining.

Jared, the third member of their little friendship group, would often tease Evan about it. Of course, it was only light and friendly teasing, but sometimes it was just too much for Evan.

But Jared was late that Thursday afternoon, so he hadn't witnessed that little interaction and therefore couldn’t tease Evan about it later.

Jared being late wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The dude often arrived a few minutes late to the boy’s little hang-sessions, wether they be at the park or at one of the boy’s houses.

Evan knocked on the door to Connor’s room, making the long-haired teen chuckle: “You know you don’t have to knock every time you wish to enter my room, right?”.

Evan slowly opened the door, finding Connor at his desk, drawing in his sketchpad. He paced over to where Connor was sitting and looked over his shoulder to see a beautiful pencil-drawing of a countryside landscape laid out before him.

“Thats nice”, Evan stated. “I know”, Connor replied. He than ripped a piece of paper out of the book and handed it to Evan: “Here, you can draw something while we wait for the Kleinman to get here”.

Evan took it and grabbed one of Connor’s heavy books to rest it on, and leaned his back against Connor’s bed and got to work.

Evan often lost track of time when he was drawing, but Connor certainly didn’t, and he started to get a bit confused when Jared still hadn’t arrived after ten minutes.

He whipped his phone out of his jean pocket: “Jared?”. Evan jumped at the break of silence, having been completely lost in his drawing of a pine tree forest. He wasn’t a very good drawer, but he really loved drawing, so it didn’t really matter.

“Jared, whats up, your like fifteen minutes late bro!”

Jared said something Evan couldn’t make out from the other end of the phone.

“Wow, that’s really weird bro”, Connor said, “I guess I’ll see you in five”.

“What happened?”, Evan asked as Jared put his phone down and stood up to look at him. “Jared completely forgot that we had planned this!”, Connor exclaimed.

That was very strange, Evan thought, Jared was always late but he was never forgetful. Something big must have happened that distracted him.

Evan and Connor seemed to be on the same page, as Connor said: “I think something must have gone wrong, we can ask him when he gets here”.

Five minutes later, Jared arrived, “WASSUP PRICK-HEADS!”. Typical Jared.

“What we’re interested in’, Connor said, “Is whats up with you”.

“Ah”, Jared said, “I just forgot because a pretty shitty thing happened with bullies today, I got distracted”.

Evan patted the side of Connor’s bed, gesturing for Jared to come sit there, “Oh, buddy, what happened?”.

Jared sighed, sat next to Evan, and looked down, “Ugh, those dicks. They just said some nasty stuff about - about-”.

Jared started shaking. This must have been pretty serious. Connor sat on the other side of him, and Evan wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Jared took a deep breath in, “They said some nasty stuff about my parents’ divorce. And about how it was probably my fault and shit. And I just-”. Jared took another breath in, his eyes getting a little wet.

Jared was the toughest guy that the other two knew. He could literally be beaten up by a whole gang and come out laughing about it smugly! But his family was something very close to his heart, and we was still struggling to get over the big split-up.

“I just, I wanted it to stop, and they kept saying things and I...”, Jared rested his head on Connor’s shoulder, “They really hurt me guys. I know it sounds pathetic but-”.

“Nononono, it doesn’t sound pathetic at all”, Connor informed the glasses-wearer, “We all have things that we hold close to our hearts”. Connor smirked and added, “Like Evan with Zoe”.

Evan blushed, “Shut up! At least I’m not the one with a crush on a Schuyler sister!”. “Hey”, Connor defended, “It’s not my fault that Lin hired such a hot actor to play Angelica!”.

“Actress”, Jared corrected the man who his head was rested upon, “A female actor is an actress”. “Oh Jared, your so old fashioned”, Connor said teasingly.

Jared sat up straight, “Thanks guys, for cheering me up I mean. You really make a difference”.

Connor cracked a grin: “Oh my dog! Jared saying something nice! I thought I’d never see the day!”.

“Oh my dog! Connor making an educated insight, I thought I’d never see the- HEY!”. Connor had reached his hand under Jared’s arm and poked him there. “Wow, I thought I’d never see the ‘hey’ either”, Connor teased.

“Connor! What gives?!”, Jared complained, “You know I’m sensitive there!”.

“Oh yes”, Evan smirked, “We are both aware that you are a little ticklish”.

“Only under my arms!”, Jared argued, “And says you Evan, your a breathing walking tickle spot!”. Evan blushed at that.

Suddenly, Jared’s eyes widened, and he started shaking again, “Spot...spot”.

Connor and Evan shared a concerned look, before looking down at Jared between them.

“Spot...oh, I almost forgot...they called my father’s house...the perfect spot for-”

“Hey, hey”, Connor interrupted, rubbing Jared’s back, “It’s okay, you don’t have to repeat them”. Connor slipped his right hand under Jared’s am, causing him to shriek and smack it off.

“Connor! This isn’t the time!”.

Evan smiled and scooted closer to Jared, “Why Jared, this is the perfect time. You have been hurt, so it is only our duty as your best friends to put a smile back on your fa-”.

“Hey!”, Zoe interrupted, swinging open the door, “I heard a scream, what’s going in in here?”. Evan turned dark red, “Oh, hey Zoe”.

Connor grinned at his sister, “Oh, I just tickled my little buddy over here”.

“Asshole!”, Jared grunted.

Zoe grinned, “Oh, I get it, we have a freakishly ticklish guy in here”.

“I am not freakishly ticklish, I only have one spot!”, Jared remarked, “Evan, he’s the one who’s freakishly tickl-AH!”.

Evan had poked under Jared’s other arm, and tackled him over. Connor smirked and pinned Jared’s arms above his head.

“Ev, don’t you fucking da-AHAHAHAH NOHOHO!”.

Evan clawed his fingers up and down Jared’s helpless underarms, “ZOHOHOHHOEEE HEHELP!”.

Zoe smirked: “As you wish”.

“NOHOHOH WAHAIT, DOHHOHON’T HEHELP THEHEHEHEHEM!”.

Zoe just giggled as she sat beside Evan and helped with the tickling. Evan tuned a deep red with Zoe sitting next to him, her giggling as they occasionally brushed fingers together, tickling Jared out of his mind.

That giggle of Zoe’s; Evan wasn’t sure if he could take this much longer. He stood up, causing the other three to look up at him.

“Aw, are you chickening out Ev?”, Connor teased, “Are you too afraid that Jared will get you back?”.

“Well, ah...”, Evan stuttered. Zoe smiled, “You know that if you chicken out now, you’ll be my next victim”. Evan turned a darker shade of red. Zoe just chuckled and went back to tickling a helpless Jared.

“NANHAHAHAHA ZOHOHOHOHE WAHAHAHAIT! NAOHOHOHHO, EHEHEHEVAN GOHOHOHOHO AWAHAHAHAY!”.

Evan had sat on Connor’s side of Jared instead, and went back to his attack.

Evan’s fingers clawed and prodded precisely, and Zoe’s scribbled and teased lightly. The combination of the two was almost unbearable for poor Jared.

Almost.

He was actually kind of enjoying himself. After a rough afternoon, laughing his head off was almost freeing. Like locking away the door to his misery and throwing away the key.

But that didn’t stop him from struggling.

“IHIHIHI WIHIHIHIHILL KIHIHIHIHILL YOHOHOHOHU AHAHAHAHALL AHAHAHAHAFTER THIHIHIHIS!” Jared cried, desperately jerking his torso up and down against the bed.

The other three just smiled, happy with the madness that they were inflicting on their friend. But still, it had to end at some point, the guy needed to breathe.

Connor unpinned Jared’s arms, and as soon as he did, Jared pounced on Evan.

“Oh, your in for it!”.

And the room erupted in laughter once more.

Ok, so that was really short, but I’ve got a nice long once coming up! So, to quote my favourite musical, Be Prepared!

#ticklefic #deh tickle fic #dear evan hansen tickle #lee!jared #ticklish!jared #ler!evan #ler!connor #ler!zoe #cheer up tickles

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 4 years

Text

Y’all this is part one! I repeat!! There is a part two!! Literally no one has read yet!! ❤️❤️

She was a friend of Trager’s, from his past. A young girl he’d saved almost twenty years ago now a grown woman thriving. She worked as a waitress at a bar in Sacramento, and Tig often made visits to see her. As he visited last, he had mentioned that he was concerned for her health and wellbeing. He’d said things were getting kind of crazy around Charming. She took that as a warning to get out of Dodge, so she did. She found a place in Dallas to hunker down, found a good job, and made a little life for herself. She was alone, of course, but she had a few friends.

She got ready for work, putting her hair up into two cute little braided buns, pinning back any loose hair before putting on some winged eyeliner and mascara, some fake lashes, and bright red lips. Smoothing her black button down shirt and fixing her collar, she gets on her bike and heads to work. A few Hispanic bikers showed up as soon as the doors opened. They drank and cheered, celebrating something. She smiled as she wiped down the bar, hands pressing onto the wooden top stopping her circles. She looked up and met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes.

“Hi! What can I get for ya?” She asks, biting her bottom lip ever-so-slightly as she finished speaking. The blonde’s grin only got wider as he ordered a drink, the leather kutte that rested atop his bare shoulders at first had her heart racing. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, wide shoulders, beautiful blue eyes, my god. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes scanned the leather, reading his patches. Sgt. at Arms, Tacoma. Those two meant something to her, as she thought about it while she poured him a drink, and when it hit her she slid the drink to him without another look before disappearing. Her heart was pounding so heavily she thought it might explode. She was leaned against the cool brick wall when Jade found her with a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks, grabbing the woman’s shoulder. Tig was a sergeant at arms for SAMCRO, and if this guy was the same for Tacoma, she had a bad feeling this guy wasn’t here on pleasure.

“Yeah, sorry. Just felt sick for a second, I’m fine.” She grins, heading back inside to find the blonde still planted at the bar. A few more men made it to the bar, and she could feel the blonde’s eyes on her every move. “You need a refill, Darlin’?” She asks, and his eyes meet hers for a moment as he nods, winking at her. Her knees went weak for a second as his fingers brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thanks, doll.” She almost visibly choked at the nickname. She’d only been called that by one other person. Her eyes jolted to his and he winked once more, sipping from his drink and watching the golf on the TV above the bar. She hurriedly got the other men their drinks before returning to stand in front of the gorgeous biker.

“You know Trager?” She hushes, eyes pleading him for something. He couldn’t quite tell what she wanted him to say, so he gambled on a yes.

“Yeah, I’m SAMTAC, here on vacation. Trager and I go back pretty far.” He chuckles, taking another sip from his drink.

“Right, got a name blue eyes?” She asks, giving him a little smirk.

“Kozik.” He chuckles, reaching for her knuckles. He takes them into one big, ringed hand for a second before dropping it on the bar.

“Well Kozik, what brings a Tacoma bad boy like you to Dallas on vacation?” She asks, wiping out a couple glasses as her eyes scan the bar for anyone looking for a drink.

“Just got sick of Washington, I guess. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta tell ya, I’m lovin’ the view.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she pours another drink for one of the men down the bar.

“How many poor unsuspecting crow eaters you use that on?” She scoffs with a smile. He laughs, giving her a great big smile making her heart jump.

“Probably too many.” He admits, shaking his head.

“Where ya staying?” She asks, writing down her name, apartment, and phone number on an old tab receipt.

“Mariot. Lemme tell ya, those beds suck ass.” He chuckles, eyes watching her scribble. Tig made Kozik a deal, if he could get the girl back to SAMCRO he could patch in. He took the job confidently, how hard could it be to convince a chick to get on a motorcycle with a hot biker? He chuckled to himself as he thought about Tig’s conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kozik!” Tig shouted through the shop, finding the blonde in the lot working on his bike. “Dumbass! I got a job for ya!” He shouted, waving the big blonde into the clubhouse.

“What’s up?” He asks, wiping his hands off on a grease rag in his pocket.

“Tell you what, with all the shit that went down with Gemma, it got me thinking about a girl I saved.” Kozik snorted, raised his brows at the older man. Tig scowled, swatting him upside the head. “Not like that you fuckin’ idiot. Anyway, this girl is really important man. Be serious, or I’ll find someone else.” Tig warned, pointed a finger at the younger man.

“Sorry, man. Go on.”

“Anyway, lockdown is in four days. You gotta get this girl back here so I can keep her safe.” His eyes were darker than normal, Kozik noticed. Tig really cared about this girl.

“Okay, what’s in it for me? Where is she even at?” Tig looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you patch in. She’s in Dallas at a hole in the wall bar, I’ll give you the address. You up for the challenge?” He asked, scribbling down the information he needed. He watched on as Tig pulled his chained wallet from his pocket and pulled a picture from it. His thumb brushed over the little Polaroid.

“Dallas, man? That like twenty five hours away without stops dude.” He groaned, frowning. Tig grabbed his shoulder and Kozik met his eyes.

“I know, I know it’s a lot. But if anyone has a chance at convincing her to come home, it’s you. Please.” Kozik could tell he was so serious. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the photo from Tig’s hands and the address and got ready to head out. “Kid? Be careful. She’s a firecracker. She could, in fact, kill you if you piss her off, courtesy of me by the way.” He chuckled before he headed back to the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well here, I’m not sure if my fold out couch is any better but Pop wouldn’t want me leaving you in a shitty motel.” She chuckles, sliding her information across the bar to the man before disappearing out of sight. Her shift is cut short by Jade appearing and grabbing the towel from her hands.

“You and blondie get outta here, Dax wants me to close up since we’ve been pretty dead. Go on!” She laughs, pushing the younger woman out the bar’s two-way swinging door and handing her her purse.

“Oh no, he’s a friend of Pop’s. So no. I won’t be ‘getting outta here’ with him.” She laughs, hopping on her bike and starting it, when his Dyna roars up next to her.

“You out already?” He calls, giving her a sweet, sexy smirk. With a nod, she zooms away with a smile, letting him follow behind her as she headed to her apartment. Pulling into the lot, she hops off her bike, waving him into the same spot she was parked in. As she heads up the stairs, she finds Missus Cipriani sitting on her porch, coffee cup in her wrinkled hands. Grabbing a chair, she sits next to old woman and offers Kozik to lean against the rail.

“Sweet girl, you found yourself a man?” She asks, grinning at the blonde leaned against the iron railing.

“Yes ma’am,” Kozik responds before she had a chance to get the words out. Kozik steps up, patting your shoulder.

“You look nice, tell me young man, what do you do for a living?” She asks, sipping her chamomile tea with honey. Lyra could smell the sweetness and desperately longed for a cup of it.

“I’m a mechanic in Charming, California.” He smiles, gripping the ebony-curled woman’s shoulder.

“Very nice, you two are cute. Have a good night, sweet girl. I love you.” Missus Cipriani smiles as Lyra stood to head to her door. “Lyra?” She asks as Kozik stepped into the small apartment, her apple doll face scrunched up as she smiled wide. “He’s a cutie. And a keeper. Good night, baby.” She grins, all big teeth and wrinkly skin. Lyra grinned back, blowing her a kiss.

“Night, Elsie. Love you. Sleep tight. If that damn cat wakes you up again let me know, I’ll kill that scraggly bastard.” Elsie laughed so hard for a moment, Lyra couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Of course dear. Goodnight.” Lyra steps into her apartment shutting the door. She turns to face the blonde, nervous and a little scared.

“So, Kozik. That’s it? Just Kozik?” He chuckles, looking her up and down, soaking in her petite body, licking his lips.

“It’s Herman Kozik. Don’t call me Herman.” He nips, pointing a finger at her. With a giggle, she unbuttons her black shirt, pulling it off to reveal a floral tattoo on her shoulder, and a plain black bra.

“Feel free to get comfy. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be right back.” She disappears, leaving him to collect his thoughts. They should be on the road by morning or they’d never make the first night. Though if he were honest, he’d rather they stay holed up in her apartment, finding out more about each other, maybe on a deeper personal level. He found her insanely attractive, he found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to touch her.

“Hey, want a beer?” She calls from the kitchen, drawing him back to earth.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, I got a question.” He states, popping his beer cap and putting it in the pocket of his kutte and taking a swig.

“What’s that?” She asks, a small smile on her lips.

“I need you to come back to Charming with me.” He croons, eyes pleading with her.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” He tries to stop her but a fire rages in her eyes, hand gripping the neck of the bottle.

“Listen, I gotta bring you in one way or—“

“No.” She states plainly, sitting on the couch next to him and sipping her beer.

“Come with me.”

“No!” She barks, glaring at him.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll kidnap you if you wanna look at it that way. Against your will, you can tell everyone in Charming I did it. I kidnapped you, but Tig knows and so do I, it’s for your safety. Get up, we gotta go. Pack a few bags, nothing major, it’s only a week.” He informs, taking another drink trying to calm his nerves.

“Make m—“ He hand covers her mouth and he gets within inches of her face.

“Don’t. Trust me, love. That’s not gonna end well.” He growls low, watching her eyes widen under his hand. With a quick, swift kick, he was flat on his back heaving for breath as she was sprinting away. Catching her ankle, he drops her on the floor and handcuffs her. “Tig was serious.” He huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Lifting her to her feet proved difficult, especially when she slammed her head into his. Grasping at his eye and growling, he tackles her to the ground leaving her there as he headed to her bedroom to pack a couple bags. When he was finished, he dragged her to his bike. Padlocking her handcuffs to the seat strap, he tucks her bags into the saddlebags.

“Christ, you’re such an asshole.” She hisses, her wrists burning from the tight cuffs.

“I’ll take those off if you promise to behave.” He coos darkly, trying to look scary. She chuckles with a glare.

“Behave, Pop did tell you I wouldn’t go willing, didn’t he? That would be why you have the cuffs, right? I mean, unless your a motorcycling badass who plays rent-a-cop.” She snarls. He was tired. He’d been up for almost twenty-seven hours, and he was exhausted. He gave a yawn, and she felt a little bad for being such a pain. Deep down she knew Tig was doing it out of love, but had he really sent this big brute to drag her back kicking and screaming? Of course he had. He sent this big blonde on purpose. He thought she’d be so swooned by his looks that he thought he’d be able to whisk her away. “Fine, I’ll cooperate, but take these off please. Number one, it’s not safe, and number two, I’d rather hold on to you. For safety reasons of course.” She giggles.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m unhooking them on one condition only.” He growls, fingertips feeling his cheek gingerly and wincing. He’d have a black eye from her little excursion.

“And that is?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t plan on running, kicking my ass again, or ya know, any crazy horse shit Tig taught you. He’s just trying to keep you safe, and honestly, I don’t know why he sent me. He still blames me for his dog dying. So I don’t know why he sent me, but he did. He trusts your life with me, and I plan on delivering you to him alive. How alive you are, depends on how you wanna act.” He heaves a long sigh, sucking in a huge yawn.

“I know. Listen, let’s sleep tonight and leave in the morning. You’re too tired to drive. You can even handcuff me to you if it helps.” She assures, resting her head on his warm, bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He whispers, unlocking the padlock and helping her off the bike. They went back inside and he did like she suggested he handcuffed her to himself and they laid on the couch. He laid down first, offering on top of him as a totally viable place to be comfortable. Giving a giggle, she agreed. Laying on him, she shivers against him, reveling in the warmth and sweet cologne and smoke that swirled around them. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch over the two, in seconds they were fast asleep.

“Morning.” She calls from the kitchen as she hears him roll over. He’d left the cuff-keys within reach, and this morning at six when she had to pee, she found them and unhooked herself. She’d considered running, he wouldn’t find her for at least a few hours. She’d decided against it. It might be nice to go back to Charming and see everyone she’d missed. With a sigh, she found herself feeling a little excited.

“Tell me, Tacoma. You originally from Tacoma? Or somewhere else?” He sat up when he heard her voice so far away.

“How did you—“ She tosses the keys to him and disappears again, returning with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks.” He smiles, taking a bite. “I’m originally from Charming, but me and Tig had a falling out. I left for Washington and Tig became Sargent at Arms for SAMCRO.” He nods finishing his breakfast and standing to stretch. “Hey, I gotta drain the radiator.” She points him towards the bathroom as she heads to his bike to grab the bags he packed. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he went looking only to find the apartment empty. “Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle just as she stepped back into the apartment to get rid of half the stupid things that he packed.

“Miss me baby?” With a snide remark, she watches as he heaves a deep breath.

“Fuck off.” He breathes, grabbing her tight against him. Was he scared for her safety? Was he worried that she’d run away? He didn’t know what made him do it, but he did, arms tightening around her. Dropping her bags at his feet, and grips his shoulders. “Next time say something.” He snips, pulling himself away from her and eyeing her bags.

“I was gonna repack really quick. I figured you didn’t pack anything I’d actually wear. Which means I’m either going naked or I’m repacking. And that’s totally up to you.” He grins darkly, grabbing her up and making her squeal before he put her back on her feet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be out here.” He smiles, smacking her butt as she scampered down the hall. Appearing a moment later with her bags, she grins at him as she slips out the door, Kozik following quickly behind.

“Missus Cipriani!” She knocks on the woman’s door. As the little old woman appears, she grins when she sees the bags and the big blonde behind her. “Hey, I’m gonna be gone for like a week. You think you could water Jethro and Lucille for me? I’ll leave you my keys.” She hands over her door key, and with a smile, they disappear down the stairs.

He pulls into a gas station and fills up, heading in for a drink.

“You want a drink?” He calls to her. With a little smile, she gets off the bike and heads in with him. His eyes caught a camera in the corner and a man with a swastika on his chest. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her against him, pulling her hood up over her head. “Don’t question me.” He hums in her ear as he leads her to the case for a drink. They both grab energy drinks and head to the counter. His leather kutte should have tipped they off, but they never saw her face. He got her to the counter paid for their things and headed out, hopping on the bike. “Don’t move.” He whispers, pulling a Kevlar vest from a saddlebag and haphazardly pulling it over her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Kozi—“

“Don’t.” He whispers as the man heads out of the store to a green and off white bronco. Grabbing his cellphone, he dials Tig. “Hey! What does Weston drive? Is he bald?” He asks, his face scowling as Tig answers.

“Is she with you?” He asks, and Kozik assures she’s safe.

“Yeah, she’s got the Kevlar on. Don’t worry.” He murmurs, “listen, does Weston drive a green two tone bronco?”

“Yeah, why? He there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I got it. Just gotta lose him.” He mutters. Climbing on the bike in front of her and shedding his beautiful kutte. “Stuff this between us.” He whispers, before he hears Tig.

“Hey, can I talk to her?” Kozik hands back the phone.

“Hey Pop!” She cheers, getting a sideways glance from a half-mad Kozik.

“He keepin’ you safe?” He asks, voice somber.

“Yeah pop. He’s pretty cute too. Good choice.” She giggles, hearing the blonde huff. Peeking around his shoulder, she sees a smug grin on his face.

“Stay with him, darlin’. I know it’s not ideal, but that Weston guy is gonna try to hurt you. Let Kozik do what he needs to. Don’t fight him. Okay?” He asks as his eyes filled with tears. He was terrified that Weston found them and they hadn’t even left Dallas yet.

“Yeah, Pop. You got it. Hey, is he a good one?” Kozik listened in for a second.

“Yeah, kid. Hold on tight.” He chuckles, swiping quickly at the tears that rolled down his cheeks as Clay walked in.

“Alright, Pop. I love you.” She whispers, feeling her throat start to close.

“I love you too, doll face. You and dumbass keep each other safe, okay? I’ll see you when you get here, hunny. I love you so much.” He whispers, letting her hang up. Tig’s hands smoothed up and down his lap for a while to calm himself down. He should’ve just gone by himself. He should have just done it. Gone and brought her home. He should have never made Kozik that deal. He knew she’d find him attractive, but she sounded genuinely interested. “We need to arrange someone to pick them up the minute they hit California. Make it look like a heist. I’ll send someone else for the bike with a tow truck. Kozik already has a tail. Weston.” He growls.

“Who’s Weston?” She asks as they floor it onto the highway. Kozik checking his mirrors to see the bronco get on right behind them.

“Hold on, babygirl.” He yells over the whipping wind as he cranks the speed. Revering in the feel of her arms squeezing tightly to him, he guns it harder as he weaves through traffic. He hadn’t even meant to call her that, but it slipped out and he didn’t take it back.

“Kozik! He’s gone!” She shouts, giving a shriek and hugging tighter to him as he guns it harder. They headed up to the panhandle of Texas and into New Mexico. As they pulled off into a big gas station and he pulls the bike between two big semis.

“Hey, you can take off the Kevlar. It’s okay. Weston got off in Albuquerque, I got a scout leading him back to Charming.” The pretty blonde heading into the store after filling the bike. She slipped into the bathroom and sat down to pee when she heard the door open and her heart stopped.

“Darlin’?” His rough sweet voice calls from the doorway.

“Yeah.” She calls, finishing up and heading out to find something to drink.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his arm loosely hanging over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat somewhere.” She coos, grabbing onto the front of his kutte.

“Yeah, I suppose we better. You up for breakfast?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You okay?” She asks, eyeing him. He looked tired and scared. He looks up for only a moment before he grabs her hand and leads her to the counter with a couple energy drinks and a bag of pizza combos.

“I’m just tired.” He chuckles, dropping a ten on the counter and heading out the door, his favorite black-haired girl in tow.

“Yeah, you ready to find some grub?” She giggles as he swings her in a sweet circle, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand. “And you can dance.” She grins, laughing as he swings and twirls her.

“Not a lot.” He laughs, helping her onto the bike before climbing on, her small arms wrapping around his abdomen and holding tightly as he searched for a breakfast place. Pulling into a parking lot across from a Mariot was a little diner he prayed served breakfast. It was close by, they could walk over for actual breakfast in the morning. They had finally made it to Milan, that Kozik read on a pamphlet at the door. Heading into the restaurant, Kozik’s hand doesn’t leave her waist. They’d fallen into an easy routine of being in love, and they barely knew each other. He found he wasn’t curious. He’d loved just being around her. He lets her into the corner against the wall, sliding in next to her.

“Hi! Welcome to Milan! What can I get you two to drink?” Asks the bubbly, curvy waitress, with a happy smile. Kozik assessed her quickly before giving her one of his biggest smiles, making the young girl blush. Lyra felt her heart drop for a second, gripping his thigh.

“I’d like a coffee, just black.” She smiles, giving the blonde dirty look.

“Coffee too, got a long trip ahead.” He smiles, patting her upper thigh in contentment. As the girl nods and wisps away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs in her ear. “Darlin’, the only person in here with my full attention,” his fingers danced up her thigh, making her shift, “is you, babygirl. Don’t you worry.” He rasps, nipping at her ear before straightening up and flipping open a menu. She let out a few shaky breaths as the waitress reappeared with their coffee.

“You need a few minutes to look over the menu?” She asks, pulling her order book and pencil out.

“I do, you?” She looks to the blonde, kissing the bare skin of his upper arm where the tattoo sat.

“I need just a minute. Sorry, we’ve never been here.” He chuckles, one hand absently gently running back and forth along her inner thigh, exciting her senses and making her knees pull together squeezing his fingertips to make him stop.

“What are you doing?” She hushes into his ear, pressing an ardent kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses her square on the lips, his own warm and inviting. The waitress appeared back with her book, ready to take an order.

“If we order, can we get it packaged to-go?” He asks, one arm slung over her shoulders lazily.

“Yeah absolutely! What can I get packed up for ya?” They ordered breakfast, each getting two different things and got their bag of breakfast food and headed to the hotel across the street. He handed off the food to her and carried their bags in. After checking in, they all but sprinted to the room. He was ready to get her undressed, find out what that big tee shirt and shorts were hiding.

As they slipped into the room, she dropped the food on a table, yanking her clothes off in a whirlwind of flying objects, their clothes landing in a pile together. His warm, strong body met hers feverishly, holding her tight as his lips found hers in a passionate meet of tongues and lips. Her fingers combed through his soft blonde spikes, his fingers tangling in her dark ebony curls as they fell to her shoulders when he broke her hair tie. With a laugh, they continued to get more heated. Digging his wallet from his jeans pocket on the floor, he pulls over a condom, rolling it on as she watched. Grabbing his wallet chain, he unhooks in from his wallet, hauling her back against the bed and wrapping the wallet chain around her wrists twice and clipping them to the bannister of the metal bed frame. He stretched her legs straight down under him and she sucked in a breath when his lips met her cool skin with hot kisses and nips. He ground his hips into hers with smooth rhythm.

He gave a low growl as he slid into her, her eyes blown wide legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles crossing. Unhooking her hands and unwinding the cold chain, he drags it along her clammy hot skin sending shivers down her spine and leaving her gasping for air. The cold shocked her and he grinned as he dropped the chain to the floor and her hands found his back, nails biting into his muscular shoulders.

Hands digging for a hold on him as they reached their peak, Kozik grunting against her as he rode out his high, leaving the two breathless and sated. He padded to the bathroom and she heard the shower start. With a deep breath, she headed in after him with her little travel shower kit. They climbed in the shower and she grabbed her kit and handed him a bottle of men’s shower gel and grabbed her own floral scented body wash.

“Should I ask why you have men’s shower gel?” He chuckles, giving her a little smile.

“Tig sends me a bottle every year for Christmas. I told him I missed having him around so he sent me a bottle of shower gel to put in the corner like he still lived with me, or least visited.” She explains shyly, scrubbing his back, using the loofah to trace the letters etched into his wide shoulders. Something about the black ink against his lightly golden skin, the blonde hair and those beautiful ocean blue eyes that drank her in so often, she fell in love. She was totally in love with this perfect, gorgeous stranger. Pop had done it on purpose. He took the loofah from her hands and squeezed out the men’s body wash before putting her floral pink shimmery wash and scrubbing up and down her body. He found himself mesmerized by her beauty.

A few hours pass and she was reading a pamphlet about the twenty-four-hour pool. Shaking Kozik’s shoulder, he rolls and grunts, waving her away from him. Grabbing her cell phone and a towel, she changes into her two piece swim suit and heads down to the pool. Oddly enough, at two in morning, there was a man at the pool, short dark hair and a swastika tattoo at the base of his throat. He was tall, gangly, all arms and legs as he did laps around the pool seemingly minding his own business. She sits her towel on the fold out chair and saunters into the hot tub.

“Shit, it’s early.” He peeked through one eye and looked at the clock that sat on the side table. 3:45AM gleamed red. He reached for her waist to find the bed empty. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before getting up to check the bathroom to find the door open and light off. His heart started to pound as he started down the halls to the pool. Shoving into the pool room, he’s woken completely by the bleach smell starting a fire in his nostrils. He looked through the room and found it empty, expect for a SAMCRO towel hanging on a chair. “No.” He mutters, grabbing the towel and hunting around for any other idea as to where she went.

“Jump in, the water’s fine.” A dark voice calls from behind the blonde man. Kozik turns slowly to face a tall brunette, gangly with a swastika tattoo on his chest. Kozik leaned over the edge to find her sitting on the bottom of the pool.

“Christ!” He jumps in, jeans and black tee, grabbing her and dragging her to the surface and ripping the tape from her mouth and pulling her against him. Smoothing the hair from her face and starts chest compressions. “Come on! Come on! Please! Don’t do this to me!” He shouts, giving her chest compressions until she coughs up some water, sucking in a breath and sputtering up water. “Christ.” He heaves, gathering her against him and undoing the ties around her arms and legs. Lifting her up, he carries her to the chair, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her. Carrying her up to their room, he calls Tig to let them know what happened. He puts the phone on speaker as he continues to bustle around, pulling all of her wet clothes off of her. No answer. Slapping the phone shut, he tosses it aside to dry her off with a towel and tugging one of his tee shirts onto her and dragging the three layers of blankets up over her. He dials Tig once more, tucking his piece into the band of his jeans and getting everything packed up. They were leaving. In six hours she’d be the safest she could be at TM and he couldn’t handle her wandering off anymore. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He paced back and forth until Tig finally answered.

“She’s okay.” Kozik starts, “but one of Weston’s guys tried to drown her.”

“What?” Tig storms.

“She’s fine. Sleeping right now. But I have everything packed and we’re leaving in a few hours. We’re six hours away. I’m gonna get her ready to head out in two hours. I’ll call before we hit the road. Tig I’m sorry. I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He assures, still pacing.

“Lemme talk to her.” He asks.

“She’s sleeping, man.” He looks to her, eyes closed chest gently rising and falling.

“Kozik.” He warns. Carefully, he shook her shoulder and woke her up.

“Sorry, babygirl. Your pop wants to chat at ya for a minute.” She takes the phone, looking at him with a sad, tired smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Tig asks.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is almost non-existent as she rasps out the words.s

“Good to hear, baby. Kozik wasn’t with you when you went to the pool?” Tig drills her with questions and she starts to hunker into the blankets and drops the phone.

“Hey! She got really scared. What ever you were saying she got so scared, man. Listen, she’s safe. I’ll have her there in eight hours.”

“You better.” He growls. “You’ll be lucky if I even let you patch in after this.”

“Listen man, I don’t even care. As long as I get her back in one piece, I’ll go back to Tacoma.” He assures, clicking shut the phone and looking to her. He finds her staring at him in wonder. “Hey pretty girl, don’t worry. We’ll get you to Tig safely.”

“You come cuddle me?” She gets out, grasping her throat. Grabbing a bottle of water, he holds it gently to her lips, pouring the littlest amount into her mouth. The soothing cool water made her sigh and he crawled under the blankets with her for a second, warming her. “You can’t go to Tacoma. I love you.” She murmurs softly against his chest . He smooths her wet hair as she cuddles closer to him, falling fast asleep.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He whispers, his heart pounding as she lightly snored.

#imagine #cute imagine #herman kozik imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik imagine #kozik oneshot #tigsdaughter!reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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class1akids · 4 years

Text

But Why?

“But why?”

There was no way Bakugou was going to do it again. Not this shit. No more invitations from anyone named Todoroki, and definitely no more running after little rugrats. This was not how he wanted to spend his free day at all, thank you very much. Actually, this was like the pinnacle of all the things he did not want to do.

“My sister invited me,” the Halfie replied in that stupid, monotone voice of his, as if this explanation carried any weight whatsoever. “She told me to bring my friends.”

Tchk. How many times did they have to have this argument? “We have never been, nor will we ever be friends. Tell her that.”

“Kacchan!”

Bakugou shot Deku a warning look. Yes, actually, the shitty Nerd’s presence was just the broccoli on top of this stinking shit-cake.

“That would be rude. And anyways, nobody would be buying it. Not the least Fuyumi-san who has seen it with her own eyes-”

“-Shut up!” Bakugou yelled. He had no intention of discussing this with the Nerd. They all saw it wrong. He was not holding his hand out to Todoroki. His fingers just pointed in that direction for strategic reasons related to the fight. Also, it was fucking forever ago. And more importantly. “Why? And why me? Why not bring Ponytail or Round-face? They are your friends and they’d be perfect for this!”

The Half’n’Half bastard had the cheek to shrug, “Fuyumi asked for you specifically after she heard how well you get along with children.”

Wait, was that a smirk on his stupid mismatched face?

“How could she possibly hear that?” he asked with suspicion.

“I told her.”

Fucking Candy Cane. Why did he go around telling stories of their miserable remedial course days? Those times were supposed to be forgotten - never ever to be mentioned again.

“I’ll KILL y-” Bakugou started.

“-You know, Todoroki-kun told me the story too. It sounded like it was amazing, Kacchan…” the Nerd interrupted with a nervous smile, his eyes suspiciously bright with an emotion that once upon a time Bakugou would have identified as mockery. Now, he didn't know anymore what it was. Gah. This whole thing was fucking unbearable.

“Amazing?!? That was the single, most miserable day of my entire FUCKING EXISTENCE!!!!”

And that was counting the sludge monster and the kidnapping and that time Sero literally taped him into the middle of a snow-ball fight.

“I remember you laughing,” Todoroki countered.

So what? People laughed for all reasons. That was not a proof of anything.

“Only because that half-witted Blondie turned you into a dumbass prince,” Bakugou couldn’t help grinning at the memory.

The other two shared a knowing look. That just pissed Bakugou off even more. Were they making fun of him?

“We are here,” Todoroki motioned at the big school-gate totally needlessly. If the big preschool sign wasn’t a dead give-away, well, there was his sister waving excitedly in front of it.

“Oh, Shouto. You made it! And it’s so nice to see you again Bakugou-kun and Midoriya-kun,” Fuyumi’s smile was as bright and enthusiastic as the first day they met.

Bakugou’s curses got stuck in his throat.

“The kids can’t wait to meet you,” she motioned the boys to follow her as she led them across the yard. It looked a lot like the kindergarten Bakugou went to with the Nerd. There was suddenly a bitter taste in his mouth, like swallowing cobwebs in a dusty, forgotten attic. He pushed the memory away.

“And we are so excited to meet them!” Midoriya enthused on his best fanboy voice. “It’s rare that we get invited to a class, but I think it's a great idea. They must be fantastic kids.”

Tchk.

“They are,” Fuyumi beamed with pride.

Bakugou tried to remember if any of his teachers ever seemed so proud or invested in them when they were little, but he honestly couldn’t remember. Not that he ever paid much attention to those losers. They were just necessary stepping stones for him to becoming the strongest hero.

The door of the large gym opened, revealing twenty snotty brats waiting silently, looking at them with bright eyes and mouths agape.

Fuyumi started the introductions.

First, Midoriya got into a long-winded speech about his dream of becoming a hero, and All Might and saving people and mutter-mutter-mutter, more All Might. Then he asked questions to the kids who started to respond first haltingly, then shouting over each other. Deku gushed about all the little punks’ amazing quirks. He was probably itching to scribble it all down in his stupid notebooks. Pathetic. All Might's successor shouldn't get so hyped about someone’s…wait…snot-bubble-quirk? What the fuck is a snot-bubble quirk? Eeeww.

Even the two sad-eyed, quirkless brats cheered up when Deku patted their heads and told them about the great minds in the support-item lab, showing off his arm-braces.

Bakugou was next up, and he kind of...drew a blank. What was he supposed to say after all the Nerd's word-vomit? Hi, I'm an All Might fan too? Yep, didn't think so. Instead, he growled a greeting at the kids and showed them a couple of small explosions to break the ice. They stared back at him frigthened. Bakugou frowned - he kind of ran out of ideas. He glanced over to his companions. Right. Ice. IcyHot bastard was the reason he was in this mess in the first place. Payback time is a bitch.

“Enough about me. This one is Five pee-pee-man,” he pointed at Todoroki with a triumphant look. “And his quirk is to make not-too-lame ice-slides.”

“ICE SLIDES!!!!” yelled the brats. “MAKE US, ICE SLIDES, FIVE PEE-PEE-MAN!!!!”

The Halfie gave Bakugou an accusing glare, which made him smirk with satisfaction. Maybe this was going to be fun after all.

He watched Todoroki stomp out an intricate ice-slide, adding details at Deku’s suggestions, who predictably got very into the whole thing. He even joined the screaming kids for a round of sliding, using his quirk to make them go at neck-breaking speed.

Bakugou watched them from a corner.

“You are not participating?” Fuyumi stepped next to him. She surveyed the room with a proud glimmer in her eyes.

Bakugou wasn’t not participating so much as he was just waiting for the right time to participate. “My quirk is better suited to make fireworks of the ice in the end.”

“I'm sure it will be a sight,” Fuyumi replied with a little clap of excitement. Then she added with a serious expression, “Thank you for looking out for Shouto. It makes me feel good that he has such great friends.”

“We are not…” Bakugou interrupted her quickly (because he really, really, really didn’t want to know more about Halfie’s miserable childhood; it pissed him off and gave him these little annoying pangs in his stomach), but when he looked at Fuyumi’s wide smile, he swallowed the rest of the sentence. “We do get along fine, I guess,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. Getting along technically wasn’t the same as being friends. He didn’t lose any ground. It was just a feint.

There was a knowing look in Fuyumi's eyes, like she wasn't buying it, but that she was too polite to argue.

"I'm so glad you decided to come."

Bakugou swallowed the urge to clarify that he didn't decide shit; that he was just dragged along kicking and screaming.

"I just...why? Why me?" There were people with more fun quirks. The kids would love Tape-guy or Round-Face or Froggy. They could fling them from the ceiling or make them float.

"Shouto told me you have something very special..."

"Sensei! Mika got a boo-boo," some of the kids came running to Fuyumi dragging along a crying little girl with a bleeding pinkie.

"Excuse me..." Fuyumi gave Bakugou an apologetic look and knelt down to the kids to deal with the emergency.

Something very special, huh? Bakugou scanned the room as if it was a battlefield. It was filled with laughing, screaming, squealing kids being chased by Deku up the ice-slides. Then his eyes zoned in on that brat. There was always one. The one with the scowl and the arms crossed across his chest. The little shit who felt he was above it all. Who thought that he needed no friends. The one who wasted his childhood looking down on others instead of being part of the fun.

The others were for Deku and Todoroki, but that one was for Bakugou to save. That’s why he was here.

He marched towards the kid.

“YOU! I’m talking to you, little troll! Why are you standing there? You think you are a special hot-shot or something? Go have fun!!!!”

AO3 link

#bnha #bhna vignette #bnha fanfic #ficlet #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #todoroki fuyumi #wonder trio #fuyumi invites the wonder trio to visit her class #brusselssprout writes #this scenario took root in my head today #i just feel like fuyumi would kind of start to include baku and deku in activities #she's so happy shouto has friends

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the-insanely-cool-connor-mu-blog · 5 years

Text

Pretty (Soulmate!AU)

Part 1 bc tumblr’s a bitch

A/N: This is the long one I was talking about sorry it’s shit though

Word Count (for the whole thing): 2154 (ooh boy)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing

Soulmates. Everyone knew they were your other half, your perfect counterpart. Everyone was born with a soulmark on their wrist dictating the first thing their soulmate would say to them. Yours was I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that! Which was kinda sweet, you’d once thought. But then you’d realized your soulmate was probably going to be talking about some other girl. So after that, you kind of gave up on finding your soulmate. You just lived normally and didn’t let it bother you. Well, you tried to not let it bother you.

It was late Thursday evening, and you were working your last shift at the local Wendy’s. The place was pretty empty except for a couple of guys in a booth talking to each other. They were both making exaggerated gestures and seemed to be having a pretty heated argument. Finally one of them got up.

“I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!” the shorter one of the two muttered, walking past you to put his empty cup in the trash. You barely even registered what he had said. He was... actually super fucking cute, which was just great. There were no other girls here, so you realized he must be talking about you.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me,” you called out. Oh shit, did I just say that, he’s going to think I’m weird. Why did I do that?

He stopped in his tracks and turned around.

Oh God he thinks I’m a freak.

But he just stood there in shock.

And then it hit you. What he’d said. Oh God I’m an idiot.

His friend was smiling and giving him two giant thumbs up from their table. He rolled down his sleeve in silent disbelief, revealing the words:

Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me

You rolled down your own sleeve to show the words that had come out of his mouth just seconds earlier:

I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!

You both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.

“I, uh, I’m Jeremy,” he stammered, shoving his glasses back up his nose.

“Y/N.”

“Well, uh it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He glanced over to his friend, who was miming writing something down. He nodded and, quickly grabbing a pen out of his pocket and scribbling something down, turned back to you.

“Here’s my number, if you wanna, like, talk or something,” he mumbled as he handed the paper to you, suddenly nervous all over again.

You smiled. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Jeremy and his friend left and you kept grinning. You’d finally found your soulmate!

Once your shift was done, you texted your best friend Zoe:

met cute guy @ work!

and he’s my soulmate!

AND i got his number!

Oh my God Y/N that’s amazing!

Wish I could meet my soulmate

don’t be so sad, zo! you’ll find your soulmate!

...i sound like the sappiest person alive

No you don’t, I just wish I could meet my soulmate sooner

you’ll find them!! now go to sleep, it’s like 10

Yes ma’am

You went to bed, though you wondered when you would see Jeremy again.

He came back a few days later, but this time his glasses were gone and he was wearing an Eminem t-shirt. He seemed to carry a new cocky swagger in his step, and you weren’t sure what to think of it.

“Eminem? Are people still into him?” you asked. You laughed at your own criticality, not waiting for him to respond. “I wouldn’t know anyway, my taste in music isn’t exactly.. mainstream.”

“Like, indie music and stuff?” He was still clueless as ever.

“More like musicals.” You immediately cringed, expecting him to laugh at you.

Instead, he just nodded. “Cool.”

“You lost the glasses,” you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, they, uh—“ Jeremy stopped mid sentence, a look of intense pain on his face. “Are you okay?” you asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he choked out, “I’m perfectly fine.”

You frowned. He didn’t look fine. But he obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t have any contacts, and I’m really nearsighted, so that’s a fun thing,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laughed lightly. “Cool, what can I get you?”

“Actually, I’m not getting anything. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, bobbing your head up and down. And with that, he left, leaving you confused and bewildered.

One day he came with a pretty girl who you assumed was his girlfriend. You felt a pang of jealousy as you tapped at the register.

Every time he stuttered or went to scratch his neck, he immediately sat bolt upright as if he had been shocked. The girl noticed too, and had to leave halfway through the date, something about not wanting to miss play rehearsal. Jeremy slumped back in his seat, disappointed.

You couldn’t help but wonder if somehow he’d forgotten about you. You were his soulmate, after all. You’d always assumed that when you met your soulmate, you would immediately click and be inseparable, two halves of a whole. That you would always have him close by. But he was right here, and somehow he felt farther away than ever.

He didn’t come in for a few weeks after that, and you were beginning to get worried. You quickly typed up a text on your way driving home from work.

hey are you okay

The response came a few minutes later.

Yeah, I should be out of the hospital any day now

The hospital? Fuck, had something happened? Your mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. You typed another message, hoping to ease your anxiety.

jeremy?

why are you in the hospital?

It’s a long story but basically there were these like tic tacs that help you to be cool and they’re from Japan and mine kind of tried to take over all of human civilization so yeah

You frowned. What the actual, genuine fuck?

jeremy what the fuck

Obviously some really weird shit was going down. You swerved your car around in a Uturn to get to the hospital. You kept your eyes trained on the road, while a notification lit up your phone screen out of the corner of your eye.

I told you it was a long story!

Stopping at a red light, you quickly typed a reply.

yeah no shit

jesus christ

at least you’re okay

How did you know I was MIA anyway?

you haven’t shown up at wendy’s for four weeks

Honestly I just went there to see you the food is kinda shitty

You pulled up to the ER parking lot.

yeah lmao

but seriously

why didn’t you just ask me out once we figured out we were soulmates?

You didn’t wait for a response, already getting out of your car and slamming the door shut. Your phone lit up again with the notifications.

I was scared, I guess

I mean, it’s just you are literally the person the universe destined me for, no pressure or anything

I just didn’t want to try and then screw this up

You responded as you walked into the ER waiting room.

no i get it

it’s kinda intense

but since we’re kinda destined for each other and all

wanna go to lunch on sunday?

I don’t even know if I’ll be out of here by then

“I’m looking for Jeremy Heere?” you asked the receptionist. She nodded, finished her phone call, and typed something up.

“What is your relation to him?” she asked, her attention flickering back to you.

“Significant other,” you said, even though you’d never actually been on a date. But you were his soulmate, and that must have counted for something, right?

“He’s in Room 102, dear,” she smiled.

“Great, thanks,” you almost shouted, already running to his room. You burst through the door and found Jeremy.

He looked so fragile attached to all the tubes and wires. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his glasses were back.

“Oh my god are you okay?” You asked, taking a tentative step towards him.

He cracked a brief smile. “Oh, no, definitely not,” he quipped.

“So,” you said, perching on the edge of the bed, “what the everloving fuck is a Squip?”

He spent the next half hour explaining the whole situation. The Halloween party, the Squip, the play. All of it. When he finally finished you whispered, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I understand if you wanna, like, never talk to me again or something,” he mumbled.

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? I literally almost doomed the entire human race. You deserve a better soulmate.”

“No, I don’t. You’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and really cute. Besides, I don’t think there are refunds on soulmates. Maybe we could catch a movie?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah. I’ll text you as soon as I get out.”

“I’ll see you then,” you said, leaving the room.

Three days later you got a text from Jeremy.

I’m out of the hospital

finally!

So, um

I was thinking we could see a movie tonight?

sounds good!

your choice!

pick me up @ 9

You don’t have to if you don’t want to

Oh lol

You sat on your couch, tapping your foot as you watched the clock. Eight fifty-seven, eight fifty-eight, eight fifty-nine, nine.

You glanced at the door. He was almost here, hopefully, definitely not standing you up...

The doorbell rang, and you sprang up and ran to it in a flash of nervous energy. You opened the door, grinning, to find Jeremy standing there looking about as nervous as you felt.

“Is it gonna be weird if my dad drives us?” he asked gesturing to the unfamiliar car in the driveway.

“It’s fine.”

He relaxed. “Okay, cool, good.”

You two were a bit squished together in the backseat, and Jeremy’s dad made some remark about how happy he was his son found his soulmate. The ride was overall a bit awkward, but you chatted with Jeremy. Turned out you went to the same school—what were the odds?

Mr. Heere pulled up to the theatre. “Welp, this is where I leave you kiddos. Have fun!” he called as you stepped out. You couldn’t wait to see what movie Jeremy had picked.

When you looked at the tickets you found, surprisingly enough, it was a romcom. You teased him about it a bit. He just shrugged and said, “I always like a good love story.”

“Okay, dude,” you laughed, buttering the popcorn.

At one point during the movie, you laughed exceptionally loudly at a pun that was so bad it was fucking hilarious. Jeremy couldn’t really pay attention to the movie, though. He was more focused on your bright smile and beautiful laugh. You swore it was the ugliest laugh ever, but to him, it was angelic, like tinkling bells. You noticed him looking at you.

“What?” you asked, a bit defensive.

“Um, can, can I kiss you?” he asked anxiously, sure you’d say no.

“Yeah,” was all you could think to say.

And he kissed you, and honestly you had no clue what you were doing, you just knew this was right, somehow. You pulled back eventually, your face bright red. Jeremy noticed and went almost as red as you.

“I’m sorry, was that bad? I don’t really—“ he started to ramble, only to be cut off by you.

“No, it’s just, I’ve never, y’know, done that before,” you admitted.

“Seriously? How?”

“This might shock you, but being who I am, I don’t exactly have a line of guys falling at my feet. Let’s just—watch the movie, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“No Fault In Our Stars references.”

“That’s fair.”

Soon enough the credits rolled around. You couldn’t quite remember when, but at some point, engrossed in the movie, you had slipped your hand into Jeremy’s. Neither of you had let go yet.

“Now that I know you like chick flicks, does this mean you wanna watch The Notebook next time?” you joked as you two walked out of the theatre, your hands still intertwined.

He made a face. “Definitely not.”

You giggled. “Okay, okay,” you said, throwing your free hand up in mock defeat.

“My dad’s gonna drive us back, too.”

#this is shit i apologize #jeremy x reader #jeremy heere x reader #bmc #be more chill #bmc x reader #be more chill x reader #jeremy heere #no one deserves to be forgotten

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pikapeppa · 5 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Varric

Chapter 35 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! It’s a long one; read here on AO3 instead.

This week’s chapter is a 12k-word ode to Varric and his friendship with Fenris and Rynne Hawke. I had many Friendship Feels™ and sads for Varric while writing this, so I did a shitty garbage cartoon of Varric getting some well-deserved HUGS.

Fenris politely shook Bianca’s outstretched hand. “You are the designer of Varric’s crossbow, then?”

Bianca shot Varric a lopsided grin. “You told him, huh? You two must be close.”

Varric tugged his earlobe. “Yeah, well… the elf’s not a big talker.” He gave Fenris a shifty look, then frowned at Bianca. “You’re taking a huge risk coming here yourself,” he said. “Maybe for both of us.”

His tone was uncharacteristically stern, and it further piqued Fenris’s curiosity. Fenris had never seen Varric so concerned about protecting someone he did business with, and this only reinforced the suspicions he and Hawke had always had about Varric’s enigmatic contact in the Merchants’ Guild.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “You’re such a worrier,” she scolded. “There’s a giant hole in the sky. I think the Merchants’ Guild has bigger things to think about.”

Varric snorted skeptically. He glanced over Fenris’s shoulder, and his face creased with even more discomfort before settling into resignation. A second later, Hawke bounded over to join them.

“Hello boys! And girl, it seems,” she said cheerfully. She slung one arm around Varric’s shoulders and gave Bianca an appreciative once-over. “Who’s your lovely friend, Varric?”

He sighed quietly, then gestured to Bianca. “Hawke, this is–”

“Rynne Hawke?” Bianca said. “Well well, the Champion herself.” She offered her hand and looked Hawke over with interest. “You dragged Varric into a fair number of scrapes back in Kirkwall, didn’t you?”

Her tone was warm and friendly, but the comment still made Fenris raise an eyebrow. Hawke, however, laughed and shook Bianca’s hand. “Guilty as charged,” she said. “Purveyor of problems for Kirkwall’s most handsome dwarf, that’s me.”

Varric shifted his weight awkwardly. “Ah, come on. We all dragged you into just as much shit as you dragged us.”

Hawke batted her eyelashes at Varric. “Aren’t you sweet to try and minimize my disastrous leadership,” she crooned. She kissed the top of Varric’s head, and Fenris noted that Bianca’s eyebrows rose very slightly.

He cleared his throat. “Hawke, this is Bianca Davri.”

She whipped around to stare at him. “What?” she blurted. Then she turned to gape at Bianca with fresh excitement. “You’re Bianca? The Bianca? Crossbow Bianca? Andraste’s tit, you don’t know how many times Varric saved our asses with that fabulous crossbow of yours. You know it took four whole years before he actually admitted that the crossbow was–”

“–invented by you,” Fenris interrupted hastily, before Hawke could reveal that the crossbow was named after her. He couldn’t tell from Varric’s awkward expression whether it was something Bianca already knew.

Hawke shot Fenris a very quick look before smiling at Bianca once more. “Yes, exactly,” she said. “You must be an extremely talented smith.”

“She really is,” Varric put in.

Bianca chuckled and folded her arms. “Flatterer.”

Hawke’s keen gaze flicked between the dwarves, and Fenris could practically see the questions writing themselves behind her eyes. He decided to step in before the conversation could devolve into an interrogation.

“What brings you to Skyhold, Bianca?” he asked.

Varric sighed and tugged his ear again. “Bianca knows where Corypheus got his red lyrium,” he said. He looked sadly at Hawke and Fenris. “And so do you.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “The thaig Bartrand found?”

Bianca nodded. “The site has been leaked. There’s a Deep Roads entrance crawling with strange humans carrying out red lyrium by the cartful.”

“Oh shit,” Hawke said blankly. “So… so I guess there was more red lyrium down there than just the idol, then.” She grimaced apologetically at Varric, who shrugged morosely.

Fenris frowned at Varric. “But how did the location of the thaig get to Corypheus? Your brother was precious with that information.” He turned to Hawke. “You recall his threat to blindfold us until we arrived at the entrance.”

Hawke snorted. “I still don’t think that was a joke.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” Varric said flatly, and Hawke smirked sympathetically at him.

Bianca waved dismissively. “How they found out isn’t important. What matters is that we know where they are now.”

Fenris nodded. “Where is the entrance they’re using?”

“In the Hinterlands,” Bianca said, to Fenris’s surprise. “Not far from Redcliffe Farm, actually.”

Hawke seemed equally surprised. “The Hinterlands?” she said incredulously. “But that’s so far from Kirkwall. There entire Waking Sea sits between the entrance we used and Redcliffe Village.”

“The Deep Roads are all connected,” Varric reminded her. “Or they used to be.”

“They went to every corner of the continent, maybe further,” Bianca added. “In theory, you could get to anywhere using the Deep Roads, but in practice…” She pulled a face. “Well, you’ve seen what’s down there. There’s a reason nobody uses them anymore.”

Hawke shot Fenris a resigned look. “And here we are, about to go back into them.”

“So it would seem,” Fenris said ruefully.

Varric sighed. “Sorry, guys. I know this isn’t what we’d planned to do next…”

Fenris cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Don’t apologize. If we choke off Corypheus’s red lyrium supply, we are that much closer to destroying him.”

Bianca nodded briskly. “I’ll keep an eye on their operation. When you’re ready to shut it down, you’ve got my help.” She turned to Varric and tilted her head. “Try not to leave me waiting too long, Varric,” she drawled. “I’ve got my own work to do, you know.” With one last smile, she walked away, and Fenris couldn’t help but notice that Varric’s eyes followed her departure.

Finally Varric sighed and looked up at him and Hawke. “Right. That’s not going to be trouble at all.”

“No, not at all,” Hawke said cheerfully. “It’ll just be a nice vacation. You know how the rosy glow of red lyrium complements my skin tone.”

Fenris shot her a sharp look. “Don’t joke about that,” he said quietly.

She winced apologetically and squeezed his hand. Then she seated herself comfortably at Varric’s writing table and gave him an expectant look.

“So,” she said. Somehow she managed to imbue the single syllable with an entire missive’s worth of meaning.

Varric glanced at her, then chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hawke…”

She slumped forward on the table. “Varric, come on. We’re your best friends in the whole wide world. Talk to us!”

“Hawke,” Fenris said quietly, “perhaps Varric isn’t in the mood to speak of this.”

“That’s not the point,” she argued. “Sometimes some shit needs to be said. Or written,” she added with a quick pointed look at Fenris. “Or it’ll eat you alive.”

Fenris pursed his lips, but he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. Even he had been incapable of silently carrying his feelings for Hawke for all those years before Danarius’s death. If not for the outlet of the scribbled pages he’d kept hidden beneath his mattress, Fenris wasn’t sure how he would have coped.

He silently took a seat beside her at Varric’s table, and she smiled at him. Varric, on the other hand, frowned at them in annoyance. “What shit are you talking about?” he said. “There’s no shit.”

Hawke gave him a skeptical look, then perched her chin on her fists. “I always thought it was weird that we never met her. You sent a lot of letters back and forth,” she said pointedly. “Keeping her away from us ruffians, were you?”

Her tone was playful, but her face was quite serious. Varric sighed heavily, then slowly sat at the table across from them. “I wasn’t… keeping her from you, specifically.”

Hawke raised her eyebrows but stayed silent, and Fenris waited along with her. Then Varric sighed and sat back in his chair. “She’s married,” he said, very quietly.

Hawke’s face went blank. “Oh. Oh. Shit.” Her eyebrows tilted with sympathy. “So you’re her, er…?”

Varric shrugged. “Yeah. We’re still… or we were. Are. Sometimes.” He scratched his ear awkwardly. “Not for a long time, though. Not since she moved to Orlais.” His eyes were on the fire as he spoke, and Hawke reached across the table and took his hand.

“Have you known her for longer than her husband?” Fenris asked.

Hawke frowned at him. “Why does that matter?”

Fenris shrugged. “I’m simply curious. It provides context.”

Varric cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve… I’ve known her for longer.” He glanced around the Great Hall shiftily, then lowered his voice before going on. “Her husband was picked out by her family. She wasn’t exactly, er, thrilled about the match. But she agreed to it eventually.” He shrugged. “I heard the wedding was lovely. The one Bianca actually showed up for, anyway.”

“What do you mean, the one she showed up for?” Hawke said softly.

Varric sighed and pulled at his ear. “We, um… tried to elope before her first wedding. It didn’t… work out.”

“Oh. Oh balls,” Hawke said sadly.

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “I am… sorry, Varric,” he said slowly.

Varric shrugged and gave them a little half-smile, and they were all silent for a moment. Hawke squeezed Varric’s hand once more before releasing him. “Why didn’t you ever tell us?” she asked.

“Their families are powerful in the Merchants’ Guild,” Varric explained. “If anyone found out…” He smirked wanly at them. “Well, I like being alive. The Guild are a cutthroat bunch. Literally. Not to mention that her family hates me. They were still sending assassins to Kirkwall by the time Cassandra dragged me away.” He chuckled.

Hawke grimaced. “Well, that’s fucking grim. But why didn’t you tell us?”

Varric raised an eyebrow, and she gestured at herself and Fenris. “It’s just us. You know we wouldn’t tell anyone. And come on, I told you everything when we were back in Kirkwall. I even told you about the time I had that filthy sex dream about Fenris and Sebastian and a desire demon.”

Fenris looked at her in startlement. “What?”

She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, I was in the dream too.”

He frowned. “That is hardly what I–”

Varric chuckled. “Hey, I never asked you to tell me about that dream.”

She waved her hand impatiently. “I know, I know, but I did anyway. That’s my point. Didn’t you want to tell someone about all this? I mean…” She shot him a pleading look. “Varric, we’ve known each other for ten years and you didn’t say anything. We sort of guessed, but you didn’t say anything. Wasn’t that… hard?”

Varric’s smile faded, and he glanced at the fire and sighed. Then they heard a startled cry from the rotunda.

Fenris sat up straight at the unexpected sound. “Was that… Cole?” he said cautiously.

“Sounded like it,” Varric said. “Let’s see what’s going on.” He pushed his chair back from the table and made his way toward Solas’s office.

Hawke tutted softly as she and Fenris rose to follow Varric. “He’s avoiding.”

“You did take a rather aggressive approach,” Fenris said.

She shot him a chiding look. “You know I have a point, though. If he didn’t tell us about this, then he didn’t tell anyone. Has he just been sitting on this for over a decade and letting it fester?”

Fenris shrugged helplessly. Hawke did have a point, but Fenris still couldn’t help but feel that they were prying.

“Everyone is not as compelled to share their life’s story as you,” he said gently.

“But Varric is a storyteller,” she argued. “He told my story. You can bet your life he’s going to tell yours when this is all done. Why wouldn’t he want to tell his own?”

“It is not a story,” Fenris said, more insistently now. “It is his life. It is private.”

“I know that,” Hawke snapped quietly. “But if you can’t share your private shit with your closest friends, then what’s the point?”

Fenris pursed his lips. Again, she wasn’t wrong, and yet…

He placed his hand at the small of her back. “Come,” he muttered, and he ushered her into the rotunda.

Solas and Cole were standing in the middle of the office. Solas’s right hand was glowing with a faint green aura of magic, and a startled-looking Cole was rubbing his chest.

“Oh, for…” Varric tsked and strode into the rotunda. “What are you doing to the kid?”

Cole turned to face him with wide eyes. “Stopping blood mages from binding me like the demons at Adamant. But it didn’t work,” he said sadly.

“Oh!” Hawke said in surprise. She hurried over to Cole and peered at the plain silver crest that was pinned to his chest. “This is the Amulet of the Unbound, hmm? It looks so plain. I bet Bels was disappointed to loot such a boring-looking bauble.” She smiled at Varric and Fenris.

“Do not be deceived by its humble appearance. Its true nature is quite powerful,” Solas said absently. He was peering at the amulet over Hawke’s shoulder and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, something is interfering with the enchantment.”

Varric snorted. “Something like Cole not being a demon?” he said archly.

Solas frowned at him, but Hawke replied. “Cole isn’t a demon,” she said. “He’s a spirit. The best spirit.” She hugged Cole’s arm encouragingly.

Varric patted Cole’s elbow. “Yes, a spirit who is strangely like a person.” He shot Solas a pointed look.

Cole pulled away from them and began pacing around the room. “I don’t matter. Just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow!”

Hawke and Varric exchanged worried looks, and Fenris frowned. Cole had been quite calm in the past couple of weeks, and Cassandra had assured Fenris that his behaviour at Caer Oswin had been quite normal – or as normal as Cole ever was, given his constant cryptic comments and his tendency to appear unnoticed at inopportune times. But now it seemed that his agitation about being bound had returned in full force.

Solas, as usual, was as calm as ever. “Focus on the amulet,” he said to Cole. “Tell me what you feel.”

Cole slowed down in his pacing, and Fenris watched apprehensively as his vacant blue gaze seemed to grow more vacant still. “Warm, soft blanket covering, but it... catches, tears. I’m the wrong shape, there’s something…” He pointed to the east. “There. That way.”

Hawke blinked. “There’s something in the stables that’s blocking the enchantment?”

“No,” Cole said. “Far. Farther. Hooking, hanging, holding on…”

Farther? Fenris thought. That didn’t exactly bode well. “How much farther?” he demanded.

Cole shook his head slowly and didn’t answer, and Fenris scowled. If Cole couldn’t even say where the problem was, how was Solas supposed to fix it?

Varric patted Cole’s elbow. “All right, kid, find Cullen and work with him on the map to figure out where you’re sensing something wrong.”

Cole nodded. He twisted his fingers together and gave them a pleading look. “Will you come with me? All of you?”

Varric smiled. “Sure.”

Cole nodded eagerly, then started to stride out of the rotunda, but Hawke took hold of his arm before he could leave and pulled him into a hug. “You’re going to be fine,” she told Cole warmly. “Solas will fix it, all right?”

“All right,” Cole said, and he walked away.

Varric, meanwhile, was facing Solas with his arms folded. “All right. I get it. You like spirits,” he said. “But he came into this world to be a person. Let him be one.”

Solas lifted his chin imperiously, but Hawke spoke before he could reply. “He already is a person,” she said. “He’s just a spirit-person, that’s all.”

Solas gave a tiny approving nod, but Varric raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Yeah. A spirit-person that magic spirit-saving amulets don’t work on,” he said pointedly.

“And what alternative would you suggest?” Solas said archly. “That Cole remain vulnerable to perversion by mages such as the Venatori?”

Varric tucked his hands in his pockets. “All I’m saying is, maybe there’s a reason your amulet isn’t working. And maybe those Venatori demon-binding rituals wouldn’t work on him for the same reason.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t like Varric to engage debates about magic. He usually preferred to sit on the sidelines and make clever remarks.

Hawke was also gazing at Varric in surprise. “You really think Cole would be all right if he was just… left alone?”

“You’ve seen how he’s changed since he’s been here,” Varric reasoned. “He hardly ever does his little disappearing act anymore. He plays with Toby like a normal kid. He’s been spending a lot of time in the kitchens, and I think it’s because he wants to know what it’s like to eat.” He shrugged. “He wants to know what it’s like being a person. I think we should… let him.”

Fenris studied Varric thoughtfully. What Varric was saying wasn’t untrue. Cole still said inappropriate things at inappropriate times, but he wasn’t phasing through the Fade as often as he used to, not unless they were in a fight.

Varric steadily met Solas’s stony stare. “I think Cole’s changed,” he said. “I don’t think he needs your amulet.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. “This is not some fanciful story, Child of the Stone. We cannot change our nature by wishing,” he said scathingly.

“You don’t think?” Varric said mildly.

Solas pursed his lips and looked away. His jaw was clenched, and Fenris waited to see what he would say, certain that the elven mage would come up with some sort of complicated and technical response.

After a long, tense moment, however, Solas exhaled and faced Varric calmly. “However we deal with the problem, our next step is to track down whatever is interfering with the enchantment,” he said. “Let us hope the Commander will help Cole to localize the source of the problem.” With that, he sat in his desk chair – rather pointedly, Fenris thought – and opened a thick tome.

Varric shot Solas an exasperated look. “Got it. Someone wants their quiet time,” he muttered. He looked up at Fenris and Hawke. “You guys want to play a little diamondback?”

Fenris nodded, but Hawke hesitated, and Fenris noticed that she was nervously nibbling her lower lip. Finally she nodded. “I’ll join you soon,” she said. “I just want to talk to Solas for a minute.”

Solas looked up in surprise, then gestured silently for Hawke to approach. Fenris and Varric shrugged at each other, then left the rotunda to return to Varric’s table by the fire.

Varric sighed as he plopped into his chair, then pulled over a deck of cards and started shuffling them. “Damn Chuckles and his amulets. Kid just needs a second to be himself without someone telling him what he needs to be.”

Fenris sat at the table and didn’t reply. In truth, he wasn’t sure what to think of all this. He certainly didn’t see Cole as being very much like a human, what with his unnerving ability to read everyone’s minds and his ability to slip across the threshold of the Fade at will. But he could see what Varric meant about Cole becoming more… human-like as time had gone on.

But being human-like didn’t solve the issue of Cole being vulnerable to binding by malicious mages.

He shunted the problem aside for now. There was nothing they could do about it until Cole figured out where the so-called problem was coming from. Fenris could only hope it wasn’t too far out of their way.

Varric dealt the cards, and they played a peaceful round of diamondback, which Varric won. Varric began shuffling the cards for another round, and Fenris leaned back in his chair and studied his friend thoughtfully.

“Varric,” he said quietly, “why did you never speak of Bianca before?”

Varric shot him a quick glance before returning his attention to the cards in his hands. “It was easier,” he said.

“It was easier not to speak of her?” Fenris asked.

Varric nodded. “Yeah. Easier not to talk about it, easier not to think about it…” He lowered the cards to the table for a moment and gave Fenris a chiding look. “Come on, elf, I thought you’d be on my side with this. You barely talked about Hawke all the time we were in Kirkwall, even though we could all see the puppy–”

“There were no puppy eyes,” Fenris complained.

Varric smirked at him and dealt the cards, and they played another hand in friendly silence. But while selecting and discarding his cards, Fenris wondered whether he ought to tell Varric about the book of angst- and love-ridden letters he’d written about Hawke during the years before they’d finally gotten together. Fenris suspected that Varric might already know something about the letters, given that Fenris had procured all of his ink and parchment from Varric, but they’d never explicitly spoken about it.

And for the first time, it struck Fenris as odd that he and Varric had never spoken about it. Aside from Hawke, Varric was his closest friend. And yet he’d only rarely spoken about Hawke to Varric during the years before their reunion.

A few minutes later, Fenris sighed and threw down his cards. “Venhedis.”

Varric chuckled. “Another round? Third time’s the charm.”

Fenris snorted. “For you, or for me?”

Varric smiled mysteriously. “I guess we’ll find out. You in?”

Fenris waved carelessly at the table. Varric’s smile widened as he started to shuffle again, and Fenris watched the brisk movements of his hands for a moment before speaking. “Have you ever considered writing about it?” he asked. “Keeping a… a journal of sorts, like Hawke used to do?”

“Nah,” Varric said casually. “Can’t be bothered. Too busy writing other things. More interesting things.” He met Fenris’s eye as he started to deal again. “That’s one of my favourite things about writing. Stepping into a different world, hearing other people’s voices and thoughts instead of your own for a while…”

Fenris folded his arms thoughtfully. “It is an escape.”

Varric smiled. “Yeah.”

Fenris returned his wry half-smile. But before Varric could finish dealing the hand, Hawke came over and plopped into the chair beside Fenris.

She kicked off her flats and folded her legs. “Deal me in. I’m feeling lucky.”

Varric snorted. “At least one of you is. I’m slaughtering your husband here.”

Fenris huffed indignantly. “It can hardly be a slaughter if it has only been two rounds,” he muttered.

“Ah, the day’s still young,” Varric said easily.

Hawke laughed and picked up her cards. They played a couple of turns, then Hawke sighed and put her cards down.

Varric raised an eyebrow. “You’re throwing in so early? I thought you were feeling lucky.” Then he gave her a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”

Fenris looked over at her; she looked anxious. “I’m worried about Cole,” she said. “I think…” She grimaced. “I think Solas should try again with the amulet once Cole has figured out what’s bothering him.”

Varric gave her a patient look. “The problem is that Cole’s not a spirit. That amulet’s not going to work.” He gestured for her to pick her cards up. “Come on, don’t throw in the towel just yet.”

Hawke picked her cards up, but she continued to gaze worriedly at Varric. “But if it’s just that he’s a… not completely a spirit, then why is he so focused on some strange thing over in that random direction?” She waved in a vague easterly direction.

Fenris huffed and picked up another card from the deck. “Is there anyone in this castle who truly understands why Cole does what he does?”

Hawke pinched the underside of his arm. “Don’t play dumb, you handsome fool. I know you understand what he’s about.”

Fenris shrugged, and Hawke sat back in her chair. “Solas has never been wrong about spirits,” she said. “He knows more about magic than anyone I’ve ever met. More than my father, even, and he was the most well-learned mage I ever knew.” She glanced around the hall shiftily and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Dorian I said that, though. He likes being my number one bookworm.”

Fenris frowned. “So you recommend that we allow Solas to fix the amulet.”

“I don’t think there’s any other choice,” she said. “Without the amulet, anyone could bind Cole. And he’s going to keep worrying about it.”

Varric twisted his lips skeptically. “I dunno, Hawke. I just don’t think it’s going to work. I don’t think he’s a real spirit anymore.”

She smiled faintly at Varric. “I know, I know. He’s like your weird adopted ghost son. It’s very cute, Varric.”

Varric scoffed. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

She snickered, then sighed and propped her elbows on the table. “I just… I really don’t want anyone to bind him. Imagine if someone made him into a demon and we had to… you know.”

Fenris looked at her more seriously this time. This was what she was really worried about: something disastrous befalling one of their companions. And in truth, it was something Fenris dreaded too. If Cole did become a true demon, and Fenris was forced to kill him — forced to take away a companion that Hawke cared about…

Varric lowered his cards. “Come on, Hawke, it won’t come to that,” he said gently. “The kid’s gonna be all right. We’re going to sort this out.”

“Varric is right. We will fix the problem,” Fenris said. “Wait and see what Cullen’s search turns up before you start to worry.” He tapped Hawke’s cards, which were lying forgotten on the table once more. “Now let’s continue this hand. You may even win this round.”

She grinned at him and picked up her cards. “How would you know that? Were you peeking?”

Fenris smirked. “Perhaps,” he said. “But it is hardly peeking if you were holding them out so carelessly.”

She chuckled, and he relaxed as the return of her humour chased away the worry that was staining her face. “You sneak. Spying on my cards,” she said happily. “Do you have a proclivity for illicit peeping that I never knew about? Because I can work with that…” Her grin grew salacious, and she bit her lip and leaned toward Fenris in a provocative manner.

Varric groaned loudly at her shameless behaviour, and Fenris scoffed and tucked his cards protectively against his chest. “Stop,” he said. “Cheating is for the feeble-minded and the lazy.”

Hawke cackled and sat back. “I’ll remember that the next time you cheat on my behalf.”

Varric and Fenris chuckled, and Hawke grinned and kicked her bare feet up on Varric’s table, just as she had always done since they’d all known each other. They continued poking fun at each other as they played their game, and for a short time, Fenris was able to put aside his concerns about spirits and malfunctioning amulets and illicit lyrium mines, and to enjoy a moment of friendly peace.

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

As luck would have it, Cullen and Cole localized the problem to the Hinterlands, and specifically to Redcliffe Village. On the one hand, Fenris was relieved; they were already planning to travel to the Hinterlands to meet Bianca and deal with the red Templars at the thaig, so it was a relatively simple matter to tag on a trip to the village while they were already in the area.

On the other hand, Fenris had never had a more trying journey with Cole. Cole spent the trip muttering to himself with increasing fervency the closer they got to Redcliffe Village. By the time they were half a day’s walk from the village itself, Cole was so agitated that even Solas’s calm advice, Varric and Hawke’s cheerful attempts at chit-chat, and Toby’s entertaining antics weren’t enough to divert his attention from… whatever it was that was pulling him toward the village.

As soon as Fenris and his companions set foot in the village, Cole looked up sharply, almost like a bloodhound scenting a foe.

“You,” he hissed. Then he disappeared.

“Fasta vass,” Fenris cursed. “Where–”

Toby barked in alarm, then took off at a run straight toward the monument of the Hero of Ferelden. Fenris and the rest of their party followed the mabari, and when they finally caught up with Toby and with Cole, Hawke grabbed Fenris’s arm in alarm: Cole had his dagger in hand, and he was looming over a terrified-looking middle-aged man.

“Shit,” Hawke squeaked. “Who the fuck is that fellow?”

“Cole,” Fenris snapped, but Cole didn’t look up; he was too busy glaring at the middle-aged man with more ferocity than Fenris had ever seen in his seemingly-youthful face.

“You killed me!” he snarled at the terrified-looking man.

“Wh-what?” the man protested. “I don’t… I don’t even know you!”

Cole grasped the man’s hair and craned his head back. “You forgot,” he accused. “You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire and you forgot, and I died in the dark!”

The man’s face went pale. “The Spire?” he said faintly.

Solas took a step forward. “Cole, stop,” he commanded.

Cole released the man, and he stumbled to his feet and ran away. Cole instantly made as though to follow him, but Varric hurried over and held out a hand. “Hey,” he said soothingly. “Just take it easy, kid.”

Cole pointed accusingly at the fleeing man. “He killed me. He killed me!” he yelled. “That’s why the amulet doesn’t work. He killed me, and I have to kill him back!”

Fenris gaped at him in utter bemusement. He wasn’t sure whether to be more unnerved by Cole’s extremely uncharacteristic rage, or by the nonsensical words he was saying.

Hawke laughed nervously. “What in Andraste’s knickers are you talking about?”

Solas shook his head. “Cole, that man cannot have killed you,” he said in his usual calm tone. “You are a spirit. You have not even possessed a body.”

Cole turned to face them. His eyes were huge and haunted, as though he’d just solved a terrible mystery. “A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank: a captured apostate.” He twisted his fingers together. “They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He starved to death.” His gaze travelled slowly across each of their faces. “I came through to help, and I couldn’t. So I… became him. Cole.”

“Fuck,” Hawke breathed.

Fenris stared at Cole in nonplussed silence. Toby whimpered and pressed himself against Cole’s leg, but Cole ignored him; he was clenching his fists compulsively, his vacant expression becoming angry again as he glanced in the direction that the terrified man had run.

He turned to face Fenris and the others, and Fenris felt a little jolt in his belly: Cole’s pale blue eyes were hard and intense, almost incandescent with focus.

He gazed steadily at Fenris. “Let me kill him,” he said. His voice was eerily calm. “I need to… I need to.”

Fenris swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said brusquely. He pointed at the monument to the Hero of Ferelden. “Sit there and don’t move.”

Cole stared at him for another tense moment, then turned away and wandered over to the plinth of the Warden monument. Hawke shot Fenris a worried look, then wandered over to Cole with Toby at her side.

Toby rested his chin on Cole’s thigh, and Hawke sat beside him and slung an arm around his skinny shoulders. “Cole, did I ever tell you about the time Fenris and I found these haunted scrolls back on Sundermount? Honestly, if you’d been there, you probably could have talked the demons into calming down, but as it was – Maker’s balls, did we almost get our asses handed to us…”

Fenris watched them for a moment. Cole didn’t seem to really be listening to her, but he also didn’t seem as intent on murdering anyone anymore.

Varric clicked his tongue ruefully. “If the real Cole was an apostate, that would mean that guy he attacked was a Templar.”

Solas nodded. “We cannot let Cole kill the man.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. It was a bit rich to hear that from Solas, given how badly he’d wanted to kill the mages who had bound his demon friend in the Exalted Plains.

Varric smirked at the elven mage. “I don’t think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles.”

Solas lifted his chin slightly, and Fenris folded his arms. “So the real Cole, the apostate, was captured by Templars and taken to the Spire.”

“Yes,” Solas said quietly. He watched Cole and Hawke as he spoke. “As the young man starved to death in the dungeon, his pain caught the attention of a spirit of compassion.” He looked at Fenris. “An uncommon spirit, certainly, as I have told you before. And all too fragile when its efforts to help proved to be in vain.”

Fenris frowned. “So the apostate died. And this spirit of compassion just… became him?”

Solas tilted his head equivocally. “In a manner of speaking,” he said slowly. “The death of the real Cole wounded him. The inability to help, to assuage the captured mage’s pain… It perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows skeptically. Forgiving someone for killing him? That sounded like an awfully tall order.

Varric seemed to be of a similar mind. “Come on,” he scoffed. “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.”

Solas folded his hands behind his back. “You don’t,” he said. “A spirit can.”

Varric shook his head. “The kid’s angry. He just needs to work through it,” he said.

Solas frowned. “A spirit does not work through emotions. It embodies them.”

“But he isn’t a spirit,” Varric insisted. “He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person.”

“You would alter the essence of what he is,” Solas snapped.

“He did that to himself when he left the Fade,” Varric said with a shrug. “I’m just helping him survive it.”

Solas pursed his lips and looked away, and Fenris frowned pensively at Cole. Hawke was still talking softly to him while he patted Toby’s head, and as Fenris watched, Cole shot her a very small smile.

She smiled back at him and pinched his cheek, just like she used to do with Carver, and Fenris swallowed hard. She can’t lose him, he thought. If something happened to Cole, and Fenris was at all responsible…

He turned to Varric and Solas. “Cole needs to be immune to binding by mages,” he said. “That is all that matters.”

“He can’t be bound by mages,” Varric insisted. “He’s not a demon.”

“You cannot guarantee that he will not be bound,” Solas retorted. “I, however, can guarantee that the amulet will work if Cole forgives the Templar.”

“Come on, Chuckles, give the kid a chance,” Varric said in exasperation. “I know you love the Fade and all that, but Cole just wants to walk in this world as a human.”

Fenris rubbed his jaw for a moment. He understood where Varric was coming from; he too had grown more comfortable with Cole since he’d started acting less… spirit-y.

But… but Varric was wrong. Cole hadn’t crossed the Veil because he wanted to be a human. He’d been pulled through by someone else’s pain, and if that lingering pain made him vulnerable to perversion by blood mages…

Fenris shot Solas a hard look. “You are absolutely certain the amulet will work if Cole forgives the Templar?”

“Yes,” Solas said firmly.

Fenris took a deep breath. He was loathe to go against Varric’s wishes, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t risk Cole being twisted into a demon.

He nodded to Solas. “Make him forgive the Templar. Make that amulet work,” he said sternly.

A small smile lifted Solas’s lips. He nodded his thanks to Fenris, then stepped away to approach Cole and Hawke. He gestured for Cole to rise, and Cole and Solas walked away together in the direction that the Templar had run.

Beside Fenris, Varric sighed and shook his head. “Shit,” he muttered. He moved away to join Hawke, who was still sitting on the plinth of the Warden monument with Toby at her side.

Fenris followed him, and Hawke looked up at them as they approached. “So Solas is going to fix the amulet?”

Varric sat beside her without speaking, and Fenris replied. “Yes,” he said. “He swore the amulet would work after this.”

Hawke perked up and clapped her hands. “Fantastic! That’s great.”

Varric continued to sit beside her in silence, and Fenris’s gut jolted uncomfortably. He slowly sat on Varric’s other side. “I am sorry,” he said quietly.

Varric shrugged sadly, and Hawke frowned. “Wait. Sorry for what?”

Varric sat back and looked at her. “Kid’s going to be more of a spirit after this. That’s how that amulet thing will work. Or so he says.” He jerked his chin in Solas’s direction.

Hawke raised her eyebrows. “Oh. But… but he’ll be safe, though?”

Fenris nodded. “Solas guaranteed that the amulet will work. Cole will be immune to binding by enemy mages.”

“But that’s a good thing. Right?” Hawke said. She gazed at Varric worriedly. “We wanted him to be safe. Right?”

Varric shrugged again. “Sure. But… ah, I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his hair and looked at Fenris. “I’m not… mad,” he said slowly. “It’s just…” He trailed off and leaned back against the statue, and Fenris and Hawke exchanged a worried look as the silence stretched tensely between them.

Hawke hooked her arm around Varric’s neck and shook him encouragingly. “Come on, Varric, tell us what’s on that brilliant mind of yours.”

Varric sat silently for another long moment. Then he sighed loudly and shot her a frank look. “You ever feel like you’re just an observer along for the ride?” he said. “Just watching everything happening while it all just… rolls out in front of you?”

Hawke raised her eyebrows in surprise and opened her mouth, but Varric chuckled before she could reply. “Ah, of course you don’t. Everything you do changes something. And you too, elf,” he added to Fenris. “You guys are the protagonists. You’re the heroes in the story.”

Hawke frowned worriedly. “But… but you’re the one who painted us that way,” she said slowly.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t just mean my books. I mean… I mean in everything. You show up, and things happen. You change things. People change around you.” He smiled faintly at her. “It does make for a good story, though.”

Hawke’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about? You change things, too. I’d probably still be working for Athenril if it wasn’t for you.”

He snorted. “Right. And look how well that turned out. We got trapped in the Deep Roads and almost died.”

Fenris frowned. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Sure, but I couldn’t stop it, either,” Varric insisted. “I couldn’t… and then my damned brother…” He trailed off and tugged one of his earrings, and Hawke and Fenris exchanged another worried look. The last time they’d seen Varric this agitated was when Bartrand had turned up in Kirkwall after years of absence.

Hawke squeezed Varric’s arm. “Varric, listen–”

“I’m an observer,” Varric said baldly. “That’s it. That’s the story of Varric Tethras: he watched things happening and did nothing to change it.” He gestured at her. “I wanted to keep you guys out of this, and here you are, mixed up in the middle of it.” He ran a hand over his hair once more. “I wanted to help my brother, but he’ll probably be in that sanitarium forever. And now with Cole…” He gave them a wry little smile. “Well, you know what they say. If you can’t do, write. Or something like that.”

Hawke didn’t reply, and Fenris noticed with a pang that she looked close to tears. He gave Varric a frank look of his own. “You did keep Hawke safe for years,” he said firmly. “You are hardly an impotent bystander.”

Varric shot him a tiny smirk. “Impotent, huh? You and Hawke need to spend less time together.”

Hawke let out a wobbly-sounding little laugh. “You filthy men,” she said. “I love it.” Then she hugged Varric’s arm again. “You’re not useless,” she insisted. “You’ve never just been a bystander. We’re all here fighting Corypheus together now, right? That’s not doing nothing.”

Varric shrugged again. Then he looked up and raised his eyebrows. “They’re back,” he said.

Fenris and Hawke looked up as well. Solas and Cole were approaching them, and Solas was smiling.

He squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “I believe we are finished here.”

Hawke sighed in relief and smiled at Solas. Varric stood up and patted Cole’s elbow. “You all right, kid?” he said gently.

Cole blinked down at him. His expression was more neutral and blank than ever. “Yes,” he said. “He’s free. We’re both free.” His eyes drifted vaguely over the village. “There is work, wounded to help, hurts to heal. But the weight is off. The old chains have fallen.”

Solas smiled more widely at him, but Varric was frowning. “So you’re not angry with the man who hurt you?” he asked.

“No,” Cole said dreamily. “I helped him forget. His pain no longer pulls at me.”

Fenris looked at him sharply. “You made him forget?” he demanded. “I told you not to do that!”

Solas held out a placating hand. “Fenris, if I may–”

Cole interrupted him. “He wanted to,” he said to Fenris. “He needed it, but he didn’t know how.” He blinked benignly at Fenris. “Yours are lost, but not forgotten. Lingering, lying low, layered with old pain, but not forgotten. You could remember, but you don’t. The loss doesn’t pull you anymore. You found peace.”

Fenris stared at him. His heart was suddenly pounding. What did Cole mean by that? You could remember, but you don’t?

Cole, meanwhile, was looking over at the ex-Templar, who was chatting with a merchant and looking quite normal. “He needed peace,” Cole said. “He needed to forget. He is happier now.”

Toby whined and leaned against Cole’s leg, and Cole looked down at him with an idle sort of interest. “You help, too,” he said to Toby. “A bark of joy brings a smile out of sadness. You’re good.”

Toby tilted his head in confusion, and Varric scowled at Solas. “Listen to him,” he said reprovingly. “Listen to how he’s talking now. Do you know what he sounds like?”

Solas nodded once. “He sounds like a spirit,” he said simply.

Cole blinked at Varric. “Nonsense words, like Bartrand at the end. ‘Just need to hear the song again. Just for a minute.’ I’m all right, Varric.” He started drifting away toward the mouth of the village.

Fenris and Hawke watched his ambling steps in nonplussed silence. Varric sighed and bowed his head. “He could have been a person,” he said softly.

Solas folded his hands behind his back. “Possibly. Would that have made him happier, Child of the Stone?”

Varric shot him a dirty look, then walked away in Cole’s wake. Hawke folded her arms and frowned at Solas. “Solas, you know I adore you, but you can be such an ass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

She shook her head, then turned away and ran after Varric and Cole. Fenris frowned at Solas for a moment, then they began walking toward the village entrance with Toby trotting obediently at Fenris’s side.

After a moment of silence, Fenris spoke. “You are smug,” he said.

Solas pursed his lips and didn’t speak, and Fenris gave him a hard look. “Do not make me regret choosing your solution. Arrogance doesn’t suit you.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. “You would chastise me for possessing knowledge, then? Am I to be dressed down for knowing more than Varric about these matters?”

“No,” Fenris said quietly. “I would chastise you for flaunting that knowledge to bring shame to another. It is unbecoming.”

Solas clenched his jaw, then returned his gaze to the path. They walked in a tense silence for a moment before Fenris spoke again. “The amulet is working properly, I assume?”

“Yes,” Solas said, rather stiffly. “Cole will be adequately protected.”

“Good,” Fenris said. They said nothing more until they’d caught up with Hawke, Varric, and Cole.

Toby trotted over to Cole and licked his hand, and Cole gazed curiously at the mabari until Hawke joined them.

“Look,” she said, and she scratched behind Toby’s ears. “Just pet him, Cole. You can pet him like you did before.”

Cole watched her for a moment, then reached out and scratched Toby’s head as well. “It makes him happy,” he said.

She smiled. “Yes, it does.”

Cole smiled vacantly. Solas moved forward to join them, and Fenris fell back to join Varric.

They were largely silent as they made their way to the thaig entrance that Bianca had discovered, and Fenris listened idly as Solas and Hawke spoke to Cole. Solas began his usual cryptic conversations with Cole, and Hawke interjected with her usual irreverent remarks, and it wasn’t long before she was strolling between Cole and Solas, her arms linked companionably with theirs while Toby pranced around them.

Fenris jerked his chin at her. “Look. Hawke is rectifying the situation,” he said to Varric. “Perhaps Cole won’t be too strange, after all.”

Varric gave him a wry smile but didn’t speak. Fenris raised one eyebrow. “Would you really have wanted him to become human?” he said dryly. “One could argue that there are already too many of them.”

“I heard that,” Hawke called over her shoulder. “And you know what, that’s fair. We humans are pretty terrible. Cole is probably better off as a spirit.” She hugged Cole’s arm.

Varric chuckled, and Hawke winked at him and Fenris before turning around. When her attention was back on Solas and Cole, Varric sighed very quietly and tugged his earring.

He glanced up at Fenris, then smiled faintly and patted Fenris’s elbow. “Come on, elf, don’t worry about it. Let’s just go clean up these red lyrium miners and their mess, huh?”

His tone was as pleasant as usual. Fenris nodded, and they continued along the road to the thaig entrance in a more comfortable silence than before. But as they walked along in Hawke’s cheerful wake, Fenris pondered the similarities between Hawke and Varric – similarities that weren’t just restricted to their mutual love of wisecracks and literature.

He only hoped that this errand with Bianca would go smoothly.

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

Unfortunately, once they finally met with Bianca, things didn't go quite as smoothly as Fenris hoped.

Granted, they achieved their goal for coming to the entrance to the thaig: they eliminated the dwarven mob that was mining the red lyrium, and they closed a darkspawn tunnel along the way. But when Bianca unlocked a secret chamber that led deeper into the thaig itself, Fenris began to get suspicious. When she hurried straight over to a tome-and-paper-covered desk at the back of the chamber, his suspicions deepened even further.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. She picked up a key from the desk, then hurried over to a reinforced steel gate at the corner of the chamber and locked it. “They won’t be able to use this entrance again.”

Varric sighed heavily. “Bianca…”

Fenris narrowed his eyes at her. “You were the leak. You revealed the location of this thaig to Corypheus?”

“Wait. Seriously?” Hawke said incredulously. “You’re an agent of Corytits?”

“What? No! It’s not like that,” Bianca protested. “When Varric told me the thaig location, I went and had a look for myself. And I found the red lyrium, and I… studied it.” She winced.

“You…” Varric rubbed his face, then glared at her. “You know what it does to people!”

“I was doing you a favour!” she retorted. “You want to help your brother, don’t you?”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at her bluntness, and Hawke’s mouth popped open in surprise. “Easy, tiger,” she warned.

Bianca pressed her lips together, then sighed. “I just... wanted to help. I wanted to figure it out.” She dropped her gaze to her hands.

Varric, meanwhile, was still glaring at her. “That stuff can kill you, or worse,” he said angrily. “I told you what happened to Meredith. Why would you risk that happening to you?”

She lifted her gaze to his face. “For knowledge!” she said. “You’re not going to beat Corypheus with ignorance. And as it turns out, I found out that red lyrium…” She took a deep breath, and her face was bright with discovery and anxiety in equal measure. “It has the blight, Varric,” she said urgently. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” he said snarkily. “That two deadly things combine to form something super-awful?”

“Lyrium is alive!” she said. “Or… or something like it. The Blight doesn’t infect minerals, only animals.”

For a split second, Fenris stopped breathing. Lyrium was alive? The hated substance that lay beneath his skin, the substance that Templars drank to cancel magic and that mages used to enhance it: it was… alive?

A shiver of revulsion ran down his spine, and he dropped his gaze to the lines on his palm. Hawke, meanwhile, was exclaiming in surprise. “You’re fucking kidding,” she blurted. “What do you mean, it’s alive? It is like, er… like a golem or something? Like living rocks…?” She trailed off. A moment later, she reached out and took Fenris’s hand.

He numbly looked up at her. Her expression was a picture of sympathy and concern, but Fenris shook his head subtly; if Bianca didn’t already know his tattoos were lyrium, he didn’t want to tell her.

Hawke squeezed his hand as Bianca answered her poorly-formed question. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I couldn’t get any further on my own, so I looked for a Grey Warden mage. Blight and magical expertise in one, right?” The corners of her lips quirked wryly.

Varric was still gazing stonily at her, and she grimaced before going on. “Well, I found this guy who seemed really interested in helping my research, so… I gave him a key.” She lamely waved the key in her hand, then cleared her throat. “His name was Larius.”

Hawke, Fenris, and Varric looked at her sharply. “Larius?” Varric demanded.

Hawke threw her hands up. “He’s still alive? Wha– how the fuck did he get here from the Vimmarks?” she said incredulously. “He looked like he was ready to crumble into a puddle of rot.”

“And he was not a mage when we met him in Corypheus’s prison,” Fenris reminded her urgently.

“No, you’re right,” she said. She and Fenris stared at each other for a long moment, then she rubbed her forehead. “So… so let me get this straight. We thought we killed Corypheus, but we didn’t. And then Larius shows up as a mage–”

“Clearly possessing the vestiges of Corypheus’s essence, and his magic,” Fenris growled.

Hawke nodded. “–and he tricks Bianca here into giving up the key, and an entire thaig full of red lyrium.”

“It was no trick,” Fenris said. He scowled at Bianca. “You willingly gave him the key. You gave access to red lyrium to a stranger, even though you knew the dangers it posed.” He folded his arms. “Even if that was not malicious, it was careless.”

Hawke pulled a little face, and Bianca planted her hands on her hips. “I told you, I was trying to learn more about it,” she insisted. “Don’t you want to know where it came from? How it works, so we can undo the damage it’s done?”

Fenris scowled at her but didn’t answer. She wasn’t wrong; in fact, she was terribly right, given Fenris’s recent interest in figuring out more about the nature of lyrium and its seemingly contradictory properties. But it didn’t excuse her carelessness.

Bianca’s posture softened at his silence. “I didn’t realize who Larius was until Varric told me you’d found red lyrium at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I came here, and… well.” She turned to Varric. “Then I went to you,” she said gently. She took a step closer to him. “When you told me what Corypheus was doing with the red lyrium, I had to make this right.”

Varric didn’t reply. Fenris waved an angry hand at the reinforced gate she’d just locked. “You can’t make this right,” he snapped. “Corypheus has the red lyrium. He has been harvesting it from bodies, like some sort of cursed garden. The damage is done.”

“But at least he can’t get it from here anymore,” she insisted. She looked at Varric, and her expression was slightly pleading now. “I know I screwed up, but it’s as right as I can make it.”

“This isn’t one of your machines,” Varric suddenly burst out. He looked extremely angry now. “You can’t just replace a part and make everything right!”

She recoiled slightly, then straightened and glared at him. “No, but I can try, can’t I? Or am I supposed to wallow in my mistakes forever, kicking myself and telling stories of what I should’ve done?”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at her scathing tone, and Hawke’s jaw dropped. “Woah–!”

“Ha!” Varric burst out. “As if I would tell stories about my own mistakes!”

Bianca scoffed and folded her arms. Hawke took a small step closer to Varric and lifted her chin. “Varric doesn’t wallow,” she said. “He’s the best wingman for people who are trying to fix their dumb mistakes. Which is obviously why you called him here,” she added pointedly.

Bianca shot her a sharp look. “With all due respect, Champion, I think I know Varric a little better than you.”

Hawke’s recoiled in offense, then took a step toward her. “Listen–”

Fenris grabbed her wrist. “Enough,” he said firmly. The last thing they needed was a pissing contest. He turned to Varric, who looked very downcast. “Do you have anything else to say to her?” He jerked his head at Bianca.

Varric sighed. “No. We’ve done all we can here.” He looked Bianca in the eye. “You’d better get home before someone misses you,” he said softly.

Bianca’s haughty posture instantly softened. She took a step toward him. “Varric…”

He moved away from her and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t… don’t worry about it.” He turned away from her and walked out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Hawke turned to Bianca. “How could you say that to him?” she demanded. “Just stab him in the gut with a poisoned dagger while you’re at it, why don’t you?”

Bianca folded her arms. “He’s your best friend. I get that,” she said. “But if you can’t see how he pushes his problems away instead of dealing with them, you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Fenris shifted his weight uncomfortably, but Hawke swelled with anger. “You made problems for him,” she snapped. “Giving the key to Corypheus – all right, fine, that was a legitimate mistake. But dragging him into this to cover for you was a shitty thing to do.”

Bianca glowered at her. “I wasn’t trying to–” She broke off and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want him to cover for me,” she said more calmly. “I wanted him to see that I… I’m trying to set things right. If I make a mistake, I want to be able to fix it.”

Her chin was lifted stubbornly, but her wistful gaze kept drifting toward the door to the chamber where Varric was standing with the others, and Fenris studied her in a pensive silence. He was well-versed in the terrible limbo of longing for someone impossible, and it was not hard to recognize the same plight in Varric’s erstwhile lover. Fenris, however, was lucky; he had eventually tackled the barricade of his own resistance to be with Hawke.

But Varric and Bianca were not nearly as fortunate as he and Hawke. And Fenris suspected that the mistakes Bianca longed to fix the most were ones that had haunted her and Varric for over a decade.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Hawke scoffed. “So what? You’re trying to fix your mistakes, so that gives you the right to hit him where it hurts?”

Bianca narrowed her eyes. “You’re protective of him. But so am I,” she said fiercely. “And it doesn’t do him any good to let him hide behind his stories instead of facing all the things that have happened to him.” She gave Hawke an arch look. “If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t let him keep burying everything in his writing.”

Hawke let out a little laugh, and Fenris could clearly hear the snarl in it. Before she could say anything more, he took hold of her arm. “We should return to the others,” he said quietly.

She met his eye, then took a deep calming breath. “Fine,” she said. “You’re right, let’s get out of here. A darkspawn-ridden cave is not exactly my idea of a party.” She laughed again, more genuinely this time, then turned and made her way toward the chamber exit without looking at Bianca.

Fenris nodded to Bianca. “It was interesting meeting you,” he said.

She nodded in return. “Likewise,” she said. Then she lifted her chin once more. “Get him killed, and I’ll feed you your own eyeballs.”

Despite the tension of the situation, Fenris scoffed at the colourful threat. It was a good thing Hawke wasn’t here to hear it, or she would jump on Bianca in a heartbeat.

“Noted,” Fenris said, and he turned away from her to rejoin the rest of his companions.

Varric smiled wanly at him as he exited Bianca’s chamber. “All right, elf, we ready to head back to the surface? I might wither if I don’t get a little sunshine soon.”

Fenris smirked and began to lead the way along the narrow stone bridge to the stairs. “Unfortunate that it’s late evening, then,” he said. “We’ll be lucky to catch a sliver of daylight when we emerge from here.”

Hawke tutted and looked around at the enormous cavern. “I suppose it is evening already out there, isn’t it? Damn.”

“That’s all right,” Varric said affably. “A sliver of sunlight is better than nothing.”

Fenris glanced at him. “You may not see any of it, given how short you are,” he said slyly.

Just as he’d hoped, Varric chuckled. “I’ll climb on your shoulders, then,” he said. “That should get me enough height to see the sun. If I crush you in the process, even better.”

Hawke laughed, and Fenris chuckled. They continued to make lighthearted chit-chat as they returned to the thaig’s entrance, and by the time they emerged beneath the waterfall that fed the Upper Lake, Fenris was pleased that Varric was smiling again.

They made their way around the lake and down to the camp at the base of the hill, and Fenris murmured a greeting to the Inquisition guards that were manning the camp. A few minutes later, they were settled around a campfire heating some water for tea while Varric pulled rations out of his pack and passed them around.

Hawke passed a packet of dried fruit to Cole. When Cole passed the fruit straight on to Solas, Varric shook his head sadly. “He used to sniff it,” he told Hawke and Fenris quietly. “I swear he was wondering what it tasted like. And now…” He sighed.

Another pang of guilt twisted in Fenris’s belly. He and Hawke exchanged a look, and Hawke shuffled closer to Varric. “D’you want to talk about it?” she said gently.

Varric shrugged. “Nah. He’s back to being a spirit now. There’s not really much to say.”

Hawke bumped him with her shoulder. “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Yeah… I know.” He tugged his earlobe, and they fell silent for a moment as they started to eat.

Varric munched slowly on a slice of dried apple, then swallowed and shook his head again. “I’m glad to have answers, but… shit. The second she showed up at Skyhold, I knew. I just…” He pursed his lips and stared at the fire for a moment. “I let this mess happen. I gave her the location of the thaig, and…” He sighed. “I’m not good at dealing with shit like this.”

“What do you mean?” Hawke said.

He gave her a frank look. “Come on, Hawke. We all know that if Cassandra hadn’t dragged me here, I’d be in Kirkwall right now pretending none of this was happening.”

She tutted. “Varric, do you really think any of us would be here if we didn’t have to be? Fenris and I wouldn’t have come if–” She broke off and winced, and Fenris awkwardly scratched his neck as the unspoken end of her sentence hung between them: she and Fenris wouldn’t have come to the Temple of Sacred Ashes if she hadn’t thought Varric was in trouble.

Varric gazed at her hopelessly. “There’s that too. Andraste’s ass, I really didn’t want you guys to get pulled into this. But here you are, and I just… I let it happen.”

“Varric, that’s… that’s not your fault. That’s my fault,” Hawke said. She shifted closer to him on the roughly-hewn wooden bench. “Fenris and I are here because of me. Fenris has this fucking magic mark on his hand because of me, not you.”

Fenris ran a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he’d feared – that this conversation would devolve into a downward spiral of Varric and Hawke blaming themselves for everything bad that had happened since the entire debacle with Corypheus had begun.

He took her hand. “Hawke–”

Varric interrupted him. “If I hadn’t sent you that letter, you guys would still be safe.”

Hawke gazed at him desperately. “But… Varric, you sent that letter to try and keep us safe!”

“Yeah, and look how well that worked out,” Varric retorted. “Just about as well as anything else I’ve tried to do.” He sighed, then smiled wanly at Toby, who was resting his chin Varric’s thigh.

Fenris frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Varric was quiet for a while as he scratched Toby’s neck. “You know what I love about writing fiction?” he finally said. “Things happen the way they’re supposed to. You plot the story, and you plan what people say and do. And that’s what happens.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes the characters have a mind of their own. But things mostly stay on track.” He smiled at Hawke and Fenris. “There’s nothing more relaxing than writing the perfect death scene exactly the way you imagined it happening.”

His tone was flippant, but Fenris couldn’t help but think back to Bianca’s words: how she’d accused Varric of writing stories about things he should have done. Her phrasing may have been overly abrasive, but the way Varric was describing his writing was consistent with what Bianca had said.

It seemed that Varric really did use his writing to gain a sense of agency when his life seemed to be spinning out of his grasp.

Fenris rested his elbows on his knees. “If only real life was that easy to control,” he said.

“Yeah,” Varric said quietly. He cleared his throat, then glanced across the fire at Solas and Cole, who were deep in a quiet discussion. “I think we’re way too sober to be having this conversation.”

“I can help with that,” Hawke said. She unclipped her flask of brandy from her belt.

Varric chuckled as she handed him the flask. “I can always count on you, Hawke.” He took a gulp and handed the flask back to her, and she took a sip in turn before offering it to Fenris.

Fenris took the flask with a nod, then tapped his fingers idly on the flask for a moment as he pondered Varric’s words. The feeling of lacking control, and using his writing to regain it… and then there was that comment Varric had made earlier today, about feeling like a bystander in his own life.

Fenris drank from the flask, then grimaced at the burn of liquor before offering it to Varric again. “You think your actions are inconsequential because they don’t end the way you had hoped,” he said to Varric. “You would equate unwanted outcomes with not having done anything at all?”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said. “Shit, Fenris. That’s… really accurate, actually.” He eyed Fenris in an impressed sort of way, then shrugged and smirked. “And I mean, if nothing goes the way I plan, might as well just sit back and watch the show, right?”

Fenris eyed him thoughtfully. “You are no mere spectator, Varric. Perhaps the writing is… a trial run. A way to try and anticipate the possibilities when you eventually act.”

Varric listened carefully while Fenris spoke, but when Fenris fell silent, he smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “Nothing wrong with a fantasy just being a fantasy, is there?”

His tone was flippant and dismissive, and so very reminiscent of Hawke. Hawke, meanwhile, was looking sadder by the moment.

She hugged Varric’s arm again. “Varric…”

He waved the flask dismissively. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Being an observer’s not so bad.” He took a sip from the flask, then smiled at her. “At least this way I get to watch you idiots and document everything you do instead.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “Well, I’m full of idiotic ideas, so you’ll have a never-ending inventory of foolishness to write about.”

Fenris frowned at this, but Varric chuckled and patted her leg. A moment later, Hawke enfolded Varric in a tight hug.

Varric wrapped one arm around her waist in turn, and they were all silent for a moment. Then Fenris broke the silence. “And what of Bianca? Will you see her again?”

Varric pulled away from Hawke’s embrace and shrugged. “I always do.”

His words were casual and neutral, and Fenris simply nodded. Hawke, on the other hand, straightened and stared at Varric in surprise.

“Wha– really?” she blurted. “You’re still going to talk to her after–”

“Hawke,” Fenris said warningly.

She winced. “I know, I know, I’m being a bitch. It’s just…” She gazed plaintively at Varric. “She was so mean to you.”

Varric shook his head. “You don’t know her, Hawke. It’s not…” He hesitated, then shrugged. “She means well. Even if it stings.”

Fenris studied him sympathetically. He could still remember the heavy ache of longing and regret he carried for the four-odd years after he and Hawke’s ill-fated first night together, and it wasn’t a pain he would qualify as a mere sting.

Hawke twisted her lips and toyed with her wedding ring. “Didn’t you ever want to… you know… move on?”

Varric raises an eyebrow. “Like how you moved on from the broody one here, you mean?” he said pointedly.

Fenris shifted uncomfortably on the bench, and Hawke sighed. “All right, fine, fair enough.” She twisted her rings nervously for another moment, then cast Varric a cautious look. “But… Varric, she’s married. What are you, um. I mean, are you hoping…?”

She trailed off, and Varric sighed and didn’t reply. A long, awkward silence ensued as they passed Hawke’s flask among themselves again.

Varric took a long swig of brandy and glanced at her. “You and Fenris are lucky, you know. Your whole thing is a pretty big plot twist.” He waved vaguely at her and Fenris. “You’re the only time I’ve seen a tragedy turn into a happy ending.”

“But I want you to be happy, too!” Hawke said plaintively. “It’s not fair. You deserve to be happy with someone too.” She clutched his arm. “Listen, there’s room for a third person in our relationship. And Fenris and I have a really big bed–”

“No,” Fenris said loudly, and Hawke and Varric burst out laughing.

Varric patted her hand. “Thanks for the offer, Hawke, but no thanks,” he chortled. “Besides, I’m not Fenris’s type.” He smirked at Fenris.

Fenris chuckled at the long-standing joke. “No, you aren’t.”

Hawke turned to Fenris with a smile. “Oh no? And what is your type, pray tell?”

“Dark-haired mages named Rynne Hawke, of course,” he said smoothly.

Hawke laughed brightly, and Varric groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go,” he complained.

Hawke kissed Fenris noisily on the cheek. “You smooth talker,” she said happily, then she turned to Varric. “And you, my most clever friend.” She kissed him on the cheek as well, then beamed at both of them in turn. “You know, it’s awful that this Coryfish bullshit is what brought us together, but I for one–”

“Ah,” Fenris drawled. “And the gushing begins.”

“Hide the liquor before she really gets going,” Varric advised him.

Hawke laughed. “No! I mean it! Down with Corytits, but three cheers for the three of us being in the same fucking place again.” She rested her head companionably on Varric’s shoulder. “I love you, Varric. Just in case there was any doubt.”

He tsked and rubbed his nose. “Love you too, Hawke,” he muttered. He patted her leg and turned away toward his travel pack. “Now come on, let’s play some cards.”

Hawke smiled at him as he rifled around haphazardly in his bag, then turned to Fenris. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at her and gently pinched her waist. “I know,” he said softly. “I love you, as well.”

She smiled and tipped her chin up, and Fenris laid a gentle kiss on her raspberry-red lips. Then Varric turned around with a deck of cards in hand. “Hey, Chuckles,” he called across the fire. “You in for a game of diamondback?”

Solas looked up in surprise. “I… yes, I would enjoy that,” he said politely. “Thank you.”

Hawke clapped her hands. “Yes!” she chirped. “And we can teach Cole how to play.”

“Why?” Cole asked.

“Because it’s fun, you goof,” she said cheerfully. She popped off of the bench and sat on the ground, then patted the grass beside her.

Solas and Cole moved around the fire to join them, and Hawke smiled as Cole seated himself cross-legged beside her. “Now here’s the idea,” she said. “We each start with five cards…”

Toby flopped down beside Cole and wagged his tail, and Solas seated himself gracefully on the grass. Varric started shuffling the cards. “Want a drink?” he said to Solas.

Solas shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I prefer to remain sharp for the purpose of this game.”

Varric nodded. “Good strategy. You can’t fleece me the way you did Blackwall.”

Solas shot him a tiny smile. “A sharper mind for a sharper opponent.”

Varric chuckled. “Nice try. Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” He continued to shuffle the cards, then glanced at Fenris.

Fenris offered him the flask. “Another drink for yourself?”

“Sure,” Varric said. He paused his shuffling to take the flask, but instead of drinking right away, he gazed at Fenris.

“Thanks, elf,” he said softly.

Fenris nodded. “Whatever you need, my friend.”

They smiled at each other for a moment longer. Varric took a swig from the flask before handing it back to Fenris, and without further ado, he began to deal the cards out with an expert speed.

Fenris watched contentedly as the cards landed in front of each player in a tidy pile. This journey had raised even more frightening uncertainties in his life: there was Cole’s unnerving comment about Fenris’s lost (or not-so-lost?) memories, and this new and extremely unpleasant discovery that lyrium was alive.

Even so, Fenris could count himself fortunate for the certainties he did have. No matter what new and terrible trials were thrown in his way, he had Hawke by his side, with her brilliant smile and her brilliant laugh to brighten the darkness of his path.

And also by his side, whether literally or by letter, he had Varric.

#fenris #fenris fic #Lovers in a Dangerous Time #fenquisition #fenris the inquisitor #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #varric tethras #cole #cole dragon age #solas #pikapeppa writes #ghost of the spire

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