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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 4]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

||𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

We shouldn't be doing this. I thought we all agreed? It was too risky putting her in there, even if she is backup. But Y/n insisted.

There were just too many things that could go wrong.

What if the plan didn't work? What if he caught on before he got in the sauna? What if he breaks out?

Everyone seems pretty confident in the plan, and it is a strong plan. But... they don't know the Mind Flayer like I do. They don't know how determined he is.

Especially when he's angry.

"Y/n...?" I wince internally when my voice comes out softer than I wanted.

She looks over her shoulder, away from the huddled party, and steps away with me out of earshot while Lucas finishes up the details. She took my hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze, already reading my thoughts.

"I'm still doing this, hon,"

I can't help but sag my shoulders, avoiding her eye and nervously I begin playing with her hands. "You don't have to though,"

"I know," she says. But with one look I can tell she's trying to bury her worry. "But we've got no other choice,"

"Yes, we do. We can wait for more backup. We could finally find Dustin? Get my mom, the chief...?"

I trail off as Y/n gives me a bittersweet smile, tracing my hands with her thumbs. My gut sinks.

"You said it yourself, Will. We need to do this as soon as possible. If it is him, he could hurt someone,"

This time it's her turn to trail off, and finally, I speak with a gentle, countering voice. "Like you?"

She sighs, sagging her head against my shoulder and lazily snaking her hands around my waist in a hug. I hug her back, trying to enjoy this moment. I can tell she is too. It's then I hear her mumble against my shoulder, "I'm too stubborn to die,"

I laugh to myself, hugging her tighter and over her shoulder I see the Party split up. Mike was tailing El, Lucas was most likely out on the hunt for a lock of some sort as he had volunteered earlier and Max stayed put with the binoculars.

Against my better judgment, I pull away and meet Y/n's eye. The look of adoration in them was hard to believe, and it still made my knees weak. Thankful again for her and this moment, I planted a kiss on the crown of her head and she smiled.

"You trust me, right?" She asked, her voice unusually delicate.

I moved my chin off of her head so I could gawk at her, completely appaled.

"What?" But she was serious, and it broke my heart. "Of course I trust you. It's him I don't trust. I know what he's capable of and... I know what he thinks of you."

Y/n doesn't say anything this time. She just looks back at our interwoven hands and then back at me. She shoots me a quick, forced smile that unintentionally told me she was feeling more and more uneasy. But because it was Y/n, she was trying to brave for others. She was putting it aside for the great good.

She shouldn't have to. She doesn't have to. I just wish she knew that.

"Come on," she says, pulling me along after Lucas. "Let's go."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

We found Lucas in the maintenance shed, digging through multiple boxes. I fell quiet and immediately got to work searching the shelves. Behind me at the door, Y/n hesitated, almost unsure of the silent tension in the room before ultimately shrugging it off and getting to work.

So far, all I was seeing was gardening gloves and other gardening supplies like pesticides, undoubtedly for lawn maintenance in front of and around the pools.

"Uh, Will...?" Lucas asks, shooting a nervous glance between me and Y/n from over his shoulder. "Um, you know about yesterday...?" Lucas asks softly.

Y/n hesitated from beside me for a moment, and in turn, so does Lucas. But he seems determined to make things right.

"It's fine, Lucas," I say, looking up from the box. "You don't have to say anything."

"I know..." Lucas continues, closing whatever lockbox he had found himself in. He was obviously nervous doing this in front of Y/n, but I guess I couldn't blame him. "But it's just... it was a really cool campaign. " he looks between both of us now, earnestly. "both of you did a great job."

He looks back at me, and Y/n shifts by my side, a frown on her face and her mouth in a small 'o' shape.

"And Mike and I should have never-"

"I don't care anymore Lucas," I say, moving on to a new box. "I really don't. We have bigger things to worry about now,

I know he's sorry, but I also know that if I dwell on it any longer I will only grow more upset. And I was already too worried about how this was going to go.

A pile of metal in the next box caught my eye. It was a long rope of steel chains and I pulled it out of the box, showing it to them.

"This should hold him,"

They both nod, looking somewhat relieved. But as I had feared, the matter wasn't being put to bed. Y/n had turned back to Lucas with a quirked brow and an edge in her voice and asked the last question we needed in this moment.

"Mike and you shouldn't have what?"

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The chain lock on the door undid itself and the azure gate swung open, allowing El to stride inside.

'A fake man' is what she was told to look for, at least that's how the others summed it up when she asked what a "dummy" looked like. Her first answer had been from Max - "easy, we both dated one" - she told El. She had rolled her eyes despite fighting back a small smile. She half expected a rebuttal from Y/n but El had turned her head just in time to see Will pulling her away, and El's shoulders sagged.

She wasn't gonna think about it, or get her hopes up. El was determined to keep her mind on the task at hand, even now as her wide eyes scoured the shelves of many peculiar items. Finally, a flash of bright red caught her eye and she knew immediately why they called it a fake man.

El picked it up off the shelf and tried not to think about how much it creeped her out. Its head, arms, and legs flopped around when she picked it up and suddenly she was filled with aggravation. But it had not been from this dummy. It had been from the one that followed her.

"Hey, I found the breakers," El didn't turn her head, she just grimaced and sighed. The last person she wanted to see now was Mike. "Woah, that thing is super creepy. Let me see it-"

He took it from her arms abruptly when she turned, and she frowned up at him. Mike didn't notice. With a goofy smile, he held it up in his arms like a puppet.

"I think this'll work. Right buddy?" His other hand moved to the dummy's chin, making it talk in a grating high pitched voice. "'Right Mike',"

El was done waiting, and she certainly wasn't impressed with his behavior. She gave him a purposeful, deadpan glare before taking the dummy back and making a break for the door. Alone.

But Mike didn't still didn't seem to take the hint. Why was he laughing and joking, she wondered. Why was he acting like nothing was wrong?

"Hey, El," he calls after her, for once sounding earnest.

Against her better judgment, she turns around.

"I just," he sighs, beginning to fight nervously. "I wanted to say..." he shifts on his feet. "You know when I said Nana was sick?" He took another, plunging deep breath. Here goes nothing, he thought."Well, she wasn't. I lied."

"I know."

El turned to leave, and Mike called out again. "Right, right, right, I just... I think it was important for you to know the context," he adds.

Her eyes tighten in a glare, she was growing impatient.

"Hopper," Mike says quickly. "he went crazy on me. Telling me I'm spending way too much time with you. He made me lie, I mean, you're the most important thing to me in the world-"

"-What if he's right?" El cut in, dropping the dummy on the ground.

"What?"

"Hop," she challenged, stepping forward.

A lazy grin took over Mike's face, a mocking grin, and he laughed dismissively. "Oh, no, no, no. He's just some angry old man who hates joy,"

The girl grits her teeth, reminded more and more of Diana's truth lasso and the Amazon warriors Max and Y/n had taught her about. And it gave her more confidence in her answer.

"But if I only see you," she explains slowly, putting on a facetious tone and jabbing a finger in his shoulder. "and I'm a different species than you, then I should be with my species more."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asks, flabbergasted as El retrieves the dummy from the floor. When she nears the gate, his jaw drops in shock when it clicks. "...Did you spy on me?"

"That's totally against the rules!" He cries, and she heaves the dummy over her shoulders.

"I make my own rules,"

And with that, El had left leaving Mike alone and in shock.

The silence had lasted only moments before a crackle of his walkie startled him.

"Mike? Are you there?"

"Yeah!" He can't help but snap, still much too in his own head.

"Where are you guys?" Max asks from her station at the car.

She hadn't left, nor had she taken her eyes off of Billy since everyone split.

"I'm coming... just hold on a second- Mike!"

Max did a double-take at the walkie when she barely heard the second voice in the background. It sounded like Y/n. But Mike had already shut off his coms. So Max shrugged, setting down her walkie and taking another hesitant look through the binoculars at her stepbrother.

"I hope it's not you," she says under her breath. "I really hope it not you."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Mike!"

Mike stumbled back against the shelves, startled when Y/n came storming in and he nervously closed his walkie.

She looked livid.

Will and Lucas were right on her tail, fearfully and hesitantly trying to persuade or calm her in some way.

"The hell is wrong with you, Wheeler?"

"What?!" He asked, completely dumbfounded.

"You heard me! What the hell is your problem?"

"You tell me! Apparently, I'm messing up everywhere," he exclaims, gesturing after El. "you're gonna have to be more specific,"

"Y/n, really, just let it go. I'm over it-" Will eased.

"-Well, I'm not." She spits, glowering at Mike. "Why the hell would you say that? How could you say that?!"

"Say what...?!" Mike's heart and stomach sunk 6 feet when he met the saddened eyes of Will, and he felt he might hurl. He had been kicking himself since it came out of his mouth, just as he had with his fight outside the mall with Y/n. It was getting harder and harder for Mike not to explode these days, everything instinct seemed to be the wrong one. "Oh..."

"Yeah, oh," she snarls, completely disgusted. "None of us said that to you when El was gone for a year now did we?"

Mike picks his eyes back up off the floor where he had guiltily been avoiding everyone's eye and meets her fiery glare, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. The more and more she looks at him the more he feels like he's standing on hot coals.

But despite her intimidating stature, her voice grew quieter and more intense.

"And you spent all those nights in her fort, testing the channels and calling out to her?When we all thought she was dead. Did we ever say anything so horrible?"

He shifts again, his heartbreaking and anger swelling up in his chest at himself as he recalls what he said to Will. "No, you didn't."

"No, we didn't. Because friends don't do that shit."

"No, they don't,"

"They also don't shit all over their friend, leaving him behind, mocking things important to him either," she says pointedly, now sharing that look with Lucas but it was less severe towards the Sinclair boy. "huh?"

They both nodded, and Will stayed quiet.

-"No,"

-"Huh-uh,"

She turns back to Mike, shaking her head with her arms folded over her stomach. She was still passed but the boy looked well past sorry. And suddenly her face went blank, scaring Mike.

"What?" He asks carefully.

"You drew first blood, metaphorically speaking," Y/n informed, still trying to tamper down her anger. "so you have to apologize. A real one, not a fake one, and not out of defense."

Mike fell silent again, looking between her, Lucas, and finally Will. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she finished.

"Do it when you mean it, Mike. Not because you got caught,"

And then, like deja vu, she was gone leaving him and this time, his friends in silent shock. And with one lingering look, Will had left with her.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Erica, do you copy?"

Erica buckled the helmet under her chin, her head still getting used to the weight of two flashlights and Dustin's walkie headset.

Night had fallen and everyone had locked up, including their very own Scoops Ahoy. With the addition of one Dustin Henderson and Erica Sinclair of course. The girl tightens her backpack over her shoulders and stands ready at the latter.

"Mm-hmm. I copy. You nerds in position, or what?"

"Yeah, we're in position," Robin answers softly, careful not to draw any attention like last time despite the lack of company. "It's It's quiet here, so you've got the green light."

"Green light. Got it." She nods, beginning her ascent. "Commence Operation Child Endangerment."

"Can we maybe not call it that?" Robin plead.

"See you on the other side, nerds." Was her only response and the line went quiet.

Erica had begun her journey into the vents.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

After several painstaking, hair-tearing minutes the trio finally heard a response.

"Alright, nerds. I'm there,"

"Do you see anything?" Robin asks.

Erica peers through the vents with little interest.

"Yeah, I see those boring little boxes you're so excited about,"

"Any guards?"

"Negative,"

"Booby traps?" Robin inquires.

Erica scoffs as she slips the backpack off her shoulders.

"If I could see them, they'd be pretty shit traps, wouldn't they?"

Steve fights a smirk, but it wasn't hard given his stress level.

"Thank you for that," Robin deadpans.

Erica rears back her legs and with a fearsome cry she kicked out the vent and tossed her backpack out onto the floor. And nary a booby trap in sight. So far.

Her feet collided with the ground and she gave a firm nod.

"I'm in,"

Those words hit Steve harder than anything they had done all week, and he feels suddenly as if a giant weight had been placed on his lungs preventing him from breathing.

"Oh, god," he groaned into his hands.

They were sending an actual child - not to mention a child he barely knew - into certain danger for the sake of reward. Oh, he definitely went too far, this was bad. This was so very bad.

A far-off buzzing pulled his eyes back to the doors just in time to see them swing open. And out waltzed Erica who was waiting for them with a knowing look.

"Free ice cream. For. Life!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A choir of crickets sings into the starless night. The warm breeze blowing in from the east enunciates the sway of the trees and carries with it the smell of chlorine drifting in from the closed pool. The concrete was still wet from today's patrons, and the last of the darkened footprints on the concrete had begun to dry. Including the trail that led all the way into the men's locker room.

Billy stood under the gentle stream of water, allowing the freezing water to soak all the way to his bones. He had been in the shower for at least an hour, trying desperately to quell the fire in his veins but he only managed to subdue it to a small ember.

Finally, he kills the water, and the locker room falls deadly quiet. Billy liked the quiet, he always had. And now more than ever.

Towel secured around his torso, he now stands at and opens his designated locker, and begins to change. His mind wanders aimlessly, anything that wasn't the obvious when suddenly, the silence is first disturbed.

The moaning of the metal door bounced off of the long stretch of lockers with an echoey tin, and Billy bristled.

"Pool's closed,"

Metal cried out to him again, finished by a shuddering clang from the door yet again.

"Hey!"

No answer.

He slams the locker shut so hard the whole row shakes and he takes off down the hall after them in a blind fury.

"YOU HEAR ME?!"

Again no answer, but Billy wouldn't accept it.

"The pool is closed!"

He throws his fists against the exit door, confused as to why it wasn't opening. Unbeknownst to him, a certain brunette was hiding in the shadows across the locker room, playing with the door - and the lock now trapping him inside - all without lifting a finger.

Angered and confused, Billy continues his assault on the door; slamming fist after fist, push after push but there was no give. He was locked inside.

And the lights cut out.

Billy was high alert now. And so was He. Billy could feel him prickle, far back in his mind but he was there. Watching.

Waiting.

"Billy," came a distant, sing-song voice.

"Who's there," he seethes.

"Billy~"

He stalked back around the corner as he echoes the mocking, sing-song voice.

"Who's there~"

More rattling preceded a chilling, squeaky laugh that echoed seemingly from everywhere. Billy takes a chance and rips open the first shower curtain, but finds nothing. The voice calls out again, once, twice. It laughs.

"You think this is funny?" He asks, in a frighteningly low voice.

The voice laughs, once again, in response and hisses another taunt. "Billy! Come and find me!"

He stalks further and further, edging the end of the brick wall as his eyes prowl across the room in search of movement.

"I find you, it is your funeral," he promises.

His eyes lock on the closing door leading to the weight room, and as if reading his thoughts, the voice eggs him on.

"Come and get me! Come on!"

Slowly he maneuvers towards the door, reaching ever so slowly for the handle. And in one swift motion, he rips it open and storms inside, finding no one but himself. At first.

"Billy!" The voice cried again, closer than ever. Another taunting laugh.

But Billy's eyes were dead set ahead on the sauna door, and more specifically the silhouette of moppy hair waiting for him behind the foggy glass window. The corners of Billy's mouth are yanked up in a disconnected smile that never quite reaches his pained eyes.

"Got you,"

His lips curl back into a snarl - an exaggerated smile - as he claps his hands and cackles, marching in for the kill.

He's already ripping open the door, face falling and realizing the truth of it all when he registers the voice clear as day and flatter and angrier than ever.

"Come and get me you piece of shit."

A fake. A goddamn fake made out of a stolen CPR dummy was the only thing waiting for him, harnessed from the ceiling. In a flood of anger, Billy steps forward and grabs the dummy in a chokehold, its rubber head hitting the ceiling with a thud. And that's when he spots it.

The walkie-talkie duct-taped to its chest and still talking to him.

"Hey. Behind you,"

Billy whirls around to find one of the girls from the night before.

El.

"Hi,"

Billy chucks the dummy into the sauna floor, but before he can do anything else, the girl flicks her head with a grunt and he's sent flying into the tile wall. It shatters where his back makes contact and he cries out in pain, falling to the floor in a heap.

"Now!" Mike cries.

The lights return with a sharp click and across the room, the Party emerges from their hiding spot in the locker rooms.

Billy's already on his feet, blood pounding in his ears just from his furious screams as he storms after El. But El is faster. She rakes one clawed hand through the air with a grunt and the door swings shut with a loud bang, where the others got to work.

Y/n had stopped at El's side where she was mostly hidden, for once allowing her best friend to shield her from the man pounding and screaming against the glass like a rabid dog. The others had already secured a smaller metal pipe through the door handle and the pipes attached to the wall, encircling it all with the rope of chains Will had discovered.

"Come on! Come on!" Mike reflexively cried, with nothing more to do but help hold the door closed and watch as Billy atta ked inches from his face.

He could feel the door moving.

At last, the click of the lock reached their ears. "Got it!" Lucas cried.

The four of them scurry back to El's side, watching in horror as Billy descended into madness before their very eyes.

The lock and chains rattled, as did the pipe and with every flinch of the door, the edge in the air grew sharper. Y/n felt a hand squeeze her own and she knew it was Will, and she gave his hand a thankful squeeze. Nobody said anything as he roared in anger, and they all feared what might happen next but not a single one of them expected what did.

His face slowly fell, his screams dying out with it as his expression turned to gasp when he noticed a particular individual.

"Max,"

His voice was a whisper, barely a breath, as he looked upon the girl. Her expression was unreadable, but it didn't take a genius to know she was trying to be brave. He looked - and sounded - betrayed. One by one, her friends look to her, her ocean eyes dead ahead on her brother.

"Do it," she says.

Releasing Y/n's hand, Will runs forward to the controls, commencing the sauna test.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The trio, now quartet, stood packed together inside the locked room, peering over the same Imperial Panda box that was identical to the others piling the shelves. Steve handed Dustin's pocket knife back to the boy after splitting the tape. He pries the lid open, popping the remaining bit of tape, and unfolds the cardboard to reveal an unexpected sight.

The four of them peer in to get a better look at the single metal box with one indented handle in the very center. Steve sends them each a curious look before twisting the lid until he felt and heard the satisfying click and hiss of air releasing from the inside. Discarding the lid revealed to all four figures four similar handles inside corresponding cylinders; steam spilling out from all sides.

"That's definitely not Chinese food," Steve says finally.

He makes a grab for one of the cylinders but stops himself, motioning for the three.

"Uh, maybe you guys should, uh, you know stand back,"

Robin shrugs and complies, and Erica steps off the box of Kauffman Shoes she had been standing on but Dustin doesn't move. He just shakes his head defiantly.

"No,"

"Just step back, alright?" Steve says, eyeing the handle while trying to shoo the kid away.

"No,"

"Step back!"

-"no!"

-"seriously!"

-"No!" Dustin cries, growing upset. "If you die, I die,"

The room goes silent and everyone stares at Dustin as he gives Steve a challenging look. And after several moments of silence, Steve concedes.

"Okay," he finally shrugs.

Steve turns back to the handle and draws in an anxious, and unlikely-but-also-not-impossibly last breath, and unlocks the cylinder. Again, it hisses and more and more steam spills out but all eyes were on the glowing green substance in the cylinder Steve now held up.

"What the hell?" Steve gasps.

"What... is that?" Robin can't help but ask.

The billowing sound of grinding gears and squeaking pulleys rang in their ears and they all felt an invisible force sway them on their feet. They hadn't previously thought it possible, but their attention was stolen away from the mysterious glowing substance and towards the room.

"Is that just me or did the room move?" Dustin murmured.

"Booby traps," Erica croaked, for the first time sounding scared.

The room was filled with more and more clicks that only grew louder and Robin snapped into action.

"Okay, you know what? Let's just grab that and go," she says, snatching the cylinder from Steve's hands and begab securing it in Erica's backpack.

Dustin made a break for the panel, where Erica had shown him and wasted no time in pressing, "door open," but nothing happened. Just the empty clicks reaching his ears as he feverishly pressed the button over and over and tried not to panic.

"Which one do I press, Erica?"

"Just press the damn button, nerd,"

"Which one, I-" He gulps nervously, swiping at his sweating brow trying to maintain a level voice. "I'm pressing the button, okay?"

"Press 'open door'!"

"I'm pressing 'open door'!"

-"Just open the-- press the other button!" Steve cuts in, and all four of them begin shouting over one another as they spiral into a frenzy.

-"Guys, just get out of the way so she can press the button!"

"-would you stop?"

"-I'm trying!"

"-Would you let me just do it?! Would you just stop?!"

"Just open the door!"

Pulling a hail Mary, Steve hit every button he could see and a sudden jolt shook the room with the loudest clang they had heard so far. They all stilled; the room falling silent around them apart from the wailing of the gears.

A giant red barricade had unsheathed itself over the door, blocking their only exit and their stomachs dropped. Literally. The room itself was suddenly plunged at a sickening speed, knocking them into the walls and floors with terrified shrieks. As Steve gripped the shelf and the wall, trying to steady himself, his widened eyes fall on the upper wall - or lack thereof - where concrete walls and rows upon rows of lights were rushing past them all confirming to him the worst.

"Oh, shit,"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A Step By Step Guide on How To Blur Protestors Faces to Protect Their Identities:

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Twitter link or @/BlackCollective

Instagram link or @/blackdisabilitycollective

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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gingersnappe-9 · 3 years

Text

Quisiera: Growing Pains (2)

Javier Peña / F!Reader; Post Narcos

Masterlist || Series List || Taglist Form || PREVIOUS || NEXT

1.9K words

Summary: You have a lot on your mind. You never expected Javi to be one of them. But that's nothing a good soak can't fix, right?

Warnings: mention of loss of parent & degenerative diseases, minor depictions of sexual thoughts, minor profanity

A/N: because I'm a major dork, and no one asked, I created the floor plan for the reader's house and my friend @followwhereshegoes designed it in Sims for me. The photos are at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Your hair blew in the wind as you drove your work-beaten Ford F-250 home. Papers from a long day of checking up on animals and livestock fluttered beneath your now empty thermos for coffee. Your head bobbed with the familiar bumps and turns of the road as you drove home. The ride wasn’t unlike it had been any other day, but as you pulled into your driveway and peaked to the left and you knew he would be there. You had known for a few weeks now that Javi had been back. On a courtesy visit for Don Jesús -- Javi’s dad -- he had mentioned his son might be returning to Texas soon. That had to have been roughly two, maybe three months ago?

You never thought you would see him again. The kid who always thought he knew best. The one who was so sure of himself and that the world was his oyster. You weren’t surprised that he didn’t recognize you though. That was Javi you grew up with. This Javier was different. It was plain to see that he carried a weight with him. Knowing the things he knew, holding on to whatever he’d done in the back of his mind now and forever. He wasn’t the bright and shiny version of Javi you once knew, but he was still as golden as ever.

As you hopped out of the car and twirled the keys on your finger, you were beyond satisfied at your decision to postpone your reunion with Javi. Crossing the threshold of your house you recalled how panicked he looked. The quick flashes of “oh shit” in his eyes before he masked his uncertainty with precision and a charming smile. To others, he played it off fine, but you knew Javi before he was Agent Peña. You’d practically grown up with him so you were privy to those subtle tells.

Javi’s abuelos moved to be closer to their son and his family. His grandparents and your parents met in English class after they moved to America and the families stayed close ever since. Javi’s family was from Mexico, and yours came from Colombia. Each of your tíos and tías helped watch and raise you and your primos. While most of your blood relatives were still in Colombia, you loved your found family here in the States. All of the birthdays spent in one another’s backyards with copious amounts of candy that came pouring out of piñatas. Big Christmas gatherings with mountains of food like ponche, pozole verde, and dulcitos like your favorite manjar blanco. Above all, you remember the laughter.

You laughed so much as a child. Someone could look at you in such a way and you would have burst out into a fit of giggles and happy squeals. It was a bittersweet thing to recall. Things were just… different now. You grew up. Life changed, you certainly had.

This was the home your parents had built not too long after they came to America. You still felt like a little kid playing house sometimes. Being the sole occupant felt strange after the years you spent growing up with the place bursting with laughter, people, and above all love. But life changed. Your mother had died of a heart attack the year before you finished vet school. Ten years back, your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia and it was left to you to make the hard decision of placing him in a nursing home. You couldn’t care for him with the hours you worked at the clinic, and you didn’t think your heart could bear seeing the man you admired slowly fade away. It made you feel awful to admit, but there was only so much a heart could take. It could’ve been different if you still had your mamá, but it was just you.

Your body hitched a bit as you bent over to pull the dirt caked boots off your feet. Growing up is fun, they said. They never mentioned anything about rapid onset aches and pains once you passed thirty. You loved being a vet, you loved taking care of horses and all manner of livestock; being there for the folks who relied on you, but man alive was it taxing on the body.

As you padded your way into the study just to the left of the front door, you dropped the excess paperwork and lunch pale on your desk; your boots onto the old mat so as to not spread anymore dirt in the house. Trying your best to properly file away your paperwork, billing receipts and lists of future visits, you found your mind wandering back to Javier.

The wonderful way his bone structure had sharpened with age. Yeah he was a good looking teenage boy -- a bit on the thin side, but strong in body and mind -- but this version of Javi was a stud. His skin was naturally tanner than some, but it was even more bronzed by the sun from his time down in Colombia. A man with strong looking hands that wrapped the circumference of the tumbler glass filled with neat whiskey meanwhile yours could only manage to get around halfway. You were extremely annoyed at how he could pull off a damn mustache without looking like a creep. Finding that you were spending far too much time thinking about Javier Peña rather than getting your ass ready for bed, you set off on your nightly routine.

Pushing yourself up and out of the desk chair was more tiresome than you would have liked to admit, but not impossible. You then opened the door that led into your bedroom. It still felt a bit weird to call it your bedroom after all this time.

You had redecorated the place to your tastes. The main bedroom now had a beautiful four post bed with pleated gossamer drapes around the posts. The warm wood bureau and doors matched the deep trim of the window sills and frames throughout the house. You removed your everyday jewelry and placed them in the little wooden dishes you had bought in Colombia the last time you visited. You had just turned twenty two then, and didn’t care to remember how old you were now. Admiring the fine artistry of the delicately carved lines and lacquered scenery of a village always brought back fine memories, summers spent in a home away from home. Peeling off your work clothes proved a bit more challenging now that your muscles and bones had started to stiffen from the wear of the workday. You walked into your bathroom as naked as the day you were born, a small perk of having moved into the main bedroom since it had an ensuite bathroom.

After the long day, a shower just didn’t seem like it was going to cut it. You pivoted to the left and began to draw a steaming hot bath. A few drops of essential oil were splashed into the piping hot water. Your abuelita did always say, “Medicina cuando la necesita, pero los remedios naturales siempre son los mejores.”

Medicine when you need it, but natural remedies are always best.

Once the tub was filled as high as it could go and still accommodate your body, the taps were shut off, and you slipped into the warm bliss. The water worked its magic while you turned on a small radio that sat on the windowsill. It was tuned in to some station based in Mexico that always played música rancheras. You were a self-proclaimed “old soul” and loved your parents' generational music. It was a not-so-guilty-pleasure for you. Even when you were younger, some of the other kids made fun of you for not liking the more modern music. But your mom always reassured you it was because you were un romántico. A romantic.

The soulful melodies and elegant guitar echoed through the steam from the bath as your aches and pains were softly pulled from your bones. The sky outside the window was a dusty pink muddled with orange. The heat from the bath was wonderful. Your mind wandered ever farther as you sunk deeper into relaxation. Tonight was one of those evenings you imagined someone else in the tub with you, it was one of the reasons you’d thrown in a couple extra bucks when you redid the bathroom. You imagined leaning against their chest, them running their hands up and down the inner part of your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted their touch the most.

Big and strong hands. Ones that weren’t afraid to leave an imprint, a reminder of their presence. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of them gently pressing and squeezing into your thighs, chest, and hips. The fantasy completed itself when you put a face to this mystery man.

Warm brown eyes, a well-defined jaw, somewhat pouty lips that practically begged you to kiss them with a fucking mustache of all things. You imagined the sound of his voice right next to your ear, whispering dirty things while he continued to paw at your body with confidence. The fresh recall of your most recent conversation made the day dream seem all the more real. It was intimate, enticing. You hadn't had any real boyfriend in a while and with the luscious way the water lapped over your skin, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together unconsciously as his conjured words echoed in your mind.

You feel so soft, Armorsita. Do you like when I touch you here, baby? Oh, you do. I can tell. Mi dama. Tell me. Tell me how much you like it, how much you love being mine. Let me have you, all of you. Let me show you just how much I love touching you right…

Your mind snapped back when your head slipped from its perch on the back of the tub. The room felt steamier than it had before even as the water temperature had dipped to lukewarm.

Was I really just fantasizing about Javier Peña of all people?

It was official then. You needed to get into bed and sleep off whatever delusions these were and come back to reality.

Fully washed and dried, you finished your routine by lathering yourself in your favorite lavender body lotion. Your body felt much better without the thin layer of Texas dust smothering your skin. Something different, however, clouded your mind, or rather, someone. It was a bit alarming how easily Javier permeated your idle thoughts. The encounter suddenly became very clear.

Why did you say goodnight as sultry as you did? Was that even sultry? Why do I keep thinking about it being “sultry”?

Your mind recalled the brief moment your lips touched his cheek. It wasn’t unlike any other time you kissed a friend goodbye. You’d been doing it forever. It was how you said goodbye. You knew that, and so did he. So why did it carve out its own special place in your mind? Why were the sensations so clear and vidid? Why did you so badly want to do it again and again without pause?

Of course your mind would fixate on the person who had just recently come back into your life. It was only natural. Humans are designed to notice differences. It’s a survival technique. To pay attention to possible threats. And you had yet to make up your mind if you considered this version of Javier Peña a friend or foe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @betti-book @mcueveryday @athalien

#pedro pascal characters #narcos au #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier peña

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5sospank · 5 years

Text

all these years - ashton one shot

Word Count: 7,407

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, bestfriend!ashton

Summary: As Luke’s little sister, you grew up with him and his best friends - especially Ashton. He was always around. However, when they left home to tour the world as a band, you lost your brother and someone you had grown to love too much for your own good. A planned trip to visit them on tour is just what you needed.

A/N: so this didn’t exactly turn out as planned, but i’m okay with it. not my favorite thing i’ve written but i hope you guys enjoy :) trying to get back into writing more this summer.

From before you could even remember, Ashton was always around. His honey colored hair and jade eyes were a constant staple in your memories. Whether it was passing by in the school hallway, hanging in your basement during your brother Luke’s band practice, or summer days spent getting drunk on the beach, Ashton was there for it all. You had watched each other grow up for years. They were fond times of learning, laughing, and wondering what you would do without one another.

But when Ashton and Luke’s band began to take over the world, you eventually had to live without both of them. It was bittersweet to lose the people you spent all your time with. You often had to remind yourself it was so they could live out their dreams everyday. Still, it hurt when they missed graduations, birthdays, and too many holidays to count. In the beginning, they made time for you when they could, but as time went on, you really only saw your brother on his breaks.

The distance bothered you more than you wanted it to. Years had gone by and they were still on fire. You saw their faces everywhere; billboards, award shows, interviews, magazines, social media. You had certainly moved on from those high school days, but sometimes, those feelings and memories crept up on you.

You supposed that’s what had you reaching out to your brother to schedule some sort of visit.

“You wanna come on tour?” Luke repeated over the phone. Confusion was etched into his voice. You could make out loud background noise, as if it was a bad time and he was busy.

“Well...yeah,” You said, defeated. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun. I thought making the trip would be nice, you know? I can take time off work.”

“Whatever you wanna do, Y/N. You’re always welcome. Just -” Luke cursed on the other line, muttered something to someone else who you figured he was in the room with. “Just have mom reach out to my assistant, alright? She’ll get you on a plane out here whenever. I’m sure Ash would like to see you too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of excitement, even if Luke’s answer wasn’t too enthusiastic. The thought of ditching your normal life to spend a few days on the road with your brother and his band sounded too good at the moment. Even if it was a bit spontaneous, the plans were too enticing to pass up. Plus, there was the mere chance that Ashton would be happy to see you, too.

“Okay, Luke,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

One week later, you were checking in to the nicest hotel in Amsterdam.

It was your first time there. Before, you had only seen it in movies and photos, and on Luke and Ashton’s Instagrams, of course. The accents were lovely and the weather was obscenely perfect once you arrived; cool fall air and changing leaves, with locals buttoned up in long coats and hats.

It was just past dinner and the change of time zones left you a bit foggy. You had never dealt well with jet lag and were thinking of ordering room service and staying in for the night. First, you had to head over to Luke’s suite and say hello.

After checking his room info, you slipped on a sweater and headed his way. You weren’t surprised to see security standing outside the door. Luke and the guys usually had guards everywhere these days. They could never be too safe.

He checked your ID and let you in, seeing as you were Luke’s sister and he was expecting you. Loud music instantly greeted you and a case of beer was on the table in the suite’s entrance way, accompanied by solo cups. The decor of the suite was charming and antiquated, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a great view of the city. Your hotel room certainly didn’t look like this.

“Luke?” You called out, stepping inside. “I’m here.”

You were met with no response. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye, and there was none other than Ashton in a pair of gray sweats and a white tank top. The sweats were slung low on his hips, his arms still scattered with beads of water from a recent shower. His hair was damp and hanging onto his forehead. You had to swallow to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” He stuttered out. “Wow, hi. Luke went over to Michael’s room, but he’ll be back in a few.”

You were frozen in place. You couldn’t remember when you had last seen him and it showed in his face. His jaw was a bit harder, age etched into his features slightly. The time evidently suited him. His body was more defined, torso less boyish and lanky. You couldn’t help but stare in awe. It had been so long, yet, the feelings that overcame you were all too familiar.

“Hey,” You breathed out. “Uh, sorry. He told me to come by.”

“I know, it’s okay. That’s why I stayed back,” he said. “I missed you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Suddenly, you somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze. He was shamelessly studying you, noting how different you looked as well. Your whole lives, you had always been seen as Luke’s little sister. Some time apart seemed to separate you from that identity. He liked this new you, it seemed; a good kind of different.

You met his eyes again. “I missed you too, Ashton.”

He let out a sigh, almost as if he was unsure of what to say or do next. Instead of speaking, he waved a hand, signaling for you to follow him further into the suite. It was growing dark outside but the room was dimly lit, allowing you to make out the dips and curves and edges of Ashton’s back as you walked behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it messy. You forced yourself to look away.

“You can sit,” He said softly. “Want a beer? Or, like, a drink or something?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ll be drinking tonight, actually. I’m feeling kind of jet lagged.”

Ashton chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “C’mon, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in so long. You flew out to fucking Amsterdam. Who cares about the jet lag? Come out with us tonight.”

You watched the small smile that toyed at his lips. God, that smile. The look on his face alone was enough to get you to change your mind. That, and his words. He wanted you with them, it seemed.

And suddenly, you were back in high school, feeling that same way you always did when it came to Ashton. You wanted to be with him.

So you said yes.

Luke wasn’t nearly as excited to see you as you were to see him. He was already half drunk and complaining about the show they had to play the next day, how tired he was of being on the road. You always found it difficult to have sympathy for him.

After he had come back to the suite to you find you and Ashton staring at each other from opposite sides of the room, Luke joined in on the effort to get you to go out with them. He had boasted the idea of VIP at one of Amsterdam’s best clubs, claiming that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You kind of agreed with him on that.

Shortly after, you found yourself sipping on a vodka Red Bull, heavy club bass pulsing in your ears. You had gotten ready for the night in record timing, but still, all the guys complained about how long you took.

The VIP section was full of people you didn’t know. Strange men lingered on the flanks of your table, accompanied by girls that Luke snuck in. One had herself stationed on Calum’s lap, nursing an old drink and whispering something in his ear. The pink and blue hues of the neon lights were almost overwhelming. You hadn’t stepped foot on the party scene since your years in college. Clearly you were a bit rusty, and it became evident to you that you were a wallflower in that moment.

“You alright?”

You felt a hand at the small of your back. The touch was comforting, innocent, yet it held so much weight. Your skin warmed at the sensation. It was Ashton.

“I’m good, yeah.” You replied with an overzealous nod once you turned to face him. “Forgot what it’s like to party with you guys.”

He rolled his eyes at your statement, glancing in Luke’s direction. “Wanna come outside with me? I need a smoke.”

You instantly took Ashton up on his offer. Any excuse to get away from your brother’s playboy tendencies was needed.

However, you were almost startled when Ashton took your hand in his, leading you through a crowd of people. He weaved his way to the side entrance of the club. The feeling of his hand on yours burned, but you ignored it, swallowed the thoughts that crept into your head.

He brought the two of you to the side of the door. The night’s cool air nipped at your skin - your outfit wasn’t doing much to keep you warm.

“Here, take my jacket.” Ashton’s stare dropped over you. He evidently saw you shiver.

“No, no, I’m fine -”

“Just take it,” Ashton interjected, shrugging the leather off his shoulders. “Really.”

Reluctantly, you took his jacket and shoved your arms through its sleeves. You knew it was undoubtedly expensive, just from the looks and feel of it. It definitely kept you warmer, however.

You stood in his jacket outside the club. The music wasn’t as loud, just a distant hum, and only a few people lingered around you. The night was dark but the lights from overhead illuminated Ashton’s features. Casts of shadows flickered over his face.

A comfortable silence formed as Ashton retrieved a lighter from his back pocket. He patted his front pockets, finding nothing, until his eyes flickered back to you.

“Cigs.” He muttered.

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he extended his arms forward, as if he was trying to hug you. Instead, he dug around in the pocket of his jacket - the one you were wearing - and pulled out his pack. The sudden proximity to him made your breath catch in your throat. His face was inches from yours until he backed away.

“I never knew you smoked.” You stated dumbly, distracting yourself from the thoughts that began to form in your mind.

“Bad habit I picked up over the years. Well, one of many.” Ashton chuckled emptily. He put a cigarette between his lips, holding his lighter up to the end. Once it was lit, he inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching with the motion.

You forced your stare away and looked down the street instead. People walked by here and there, cars passing on the road.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Ashton questioned to fill the silence. He exhaled, then brought the cigarette up to his lips again. You found yourself hating how he made the dirty habit look so good.

“No, never.”

He hummed, bemused. “Good. You were always good.”

“I don’t know about that,” You let out a light laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“That’s fair. Even though you were three years younger, you always stole the alcohol for everyone, remember?” Ashton grinned. He leaned himself up against the wall next to you.

“Mom and dad’s liquor collection definitely suffered during our high school years.”

You recalled being a teenager, back when you would have done anything to impress your brother and his friends. They would often throw parties when your parents were gone and Luke always put you in charge of the vodka thievery. It definitely got you into trouble.

“Those were the days,” Ashton murmured, clearly lost in thought. He stomped out his cigarette beneath his black boot. “And look at us now.”

“What,” You paused. “A world-renowned celebrity and a washed up college graduate, in the middle of Amsterdam, avoiding the club?”

“I wasn’t meaning that.” Ashton met your gaze. A frown graced his features.

You were unsure of what to say. You let yourself meet his eyes for a moment longer, before stepping to the side to lean on the wall next to him. His jacket engulfed you, your shoulder against his arm. His height towered over you.

“I’m not a celebrity. Not to you, at least.” Ashton added softly. “You know me.”

You let his words hang in the air between you like an echo. You turned to look at him again, ignoring the way your stomach turned at your new proximity. “Do I know you, though? It’s been so long, Ashton.”

The words you dared to say seemed to cut into him, make him bleed. His brow furrowed, a deep, smoky sigh leaving his lips. “You’ll see by the time you leave. You know me more than most.”

He stood up and didn’t wait for your reply. It was as if he knew you didn’t have one. Your conversation was over, despite the heavy feeling it left in your chest. Your comment seemed to bother him even if that wasn’t your intention.

He waited as you shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him. He carried it over his arm, taking your hand with the other. His hand was now cold against your own from the air around.

As he led you back through the club, he ignored the invasive stares of those who recognized him. His demeanor was strong and confident, softening once he reached the comfort of his friends. He dropped your hand and replaced it with a fresh drink from a cocktail waitress. Under the neon lights, you decided you really didn’t know him - not anymore.

When you reached the hotel again, it was past three in the morning, and you felt your body sinking with exhaustion. You had been awake for too long and the time difference was really getting to you. The drinks you had downed just to tolerate the club weren’t helping, either.

Luke and Calum had left in another security car on their own, having gone home with the girls they entertained for the night. You weren’t really disappointed or surprised. Luke certainly liked to make the most of his nights out. Girls threw themselves at him and Calum - you couldn’t really blame their tendencies.

That left you stumbling into the hotel with Ashton and Michael in tow. You filed into the elevator, fishing around your bag for your room key.

“How upset would your mom be if she knew Luke was still banging a different girl in every country?” Michael broke the silence, a playful smile on his face.

You laughed at his remark. “She’s still waiting for him to bring a girl home.”

“Tell her not to hold her breath, then.” Michael replied.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, turning to glance at Ashton in confusion when he didn’t move. You did the same.

“I’m going to walk Y/N to her room.” He stated blankly. “I’ll meet you in the suite.”

Michael nodded and said good night. The doors closed and you were left alone with Ashton again. There was a thick tension that blanketed the air between you that was difficult to ignore. Still, you did your best, focusing your sight on the floor beneath your feet.

Once the elevator reached your stop, you stepped out in front of Ashton. “You didn’t have to walk me here, you know.”

“I wanted to. Luke shouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

You stopped in front of your room number, moving to unlock the door. “It’s alright. I kind of figured it would end up like this.”

“Then why’d you come?” Ashton asked. He followed you into your room without invitation. You didn’t mind.

Immediately, you kicked your heels off, sitting at the foot of the bed. Ashton stood before you, hands in his pockets, concern in his eyes as he studied your face. You recognized that expression. He was always worried about you - protective.

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “It gets old, life at home. The routine of it all.”

Ashton chuckled dryly. He sat down beside you. There was just enough distance between your figures so that your heart didn’t start beating too fast.

“You don’t understand how often I wish for a routine lately. Something constant, you know?” His voice was low.

You turned to look at him. The simple confession struck you. And it all felt so strange - sitting in an Amsterdam hotel room with Ashton, after all these years had gone by where you thought about him endlessly. He was him, but he wasn’t. He had built up this persona that was based so wholly on his career; travelling the world, putting on a brave face, performing to thousands. You found yourself understanding his confession as that sensitivity you used to know back when you were sixteen, back when you would’ve done anything for him. In that moment right there, you still would’ve done anything for him.

“There’s another reason why I came here, Ashton.” You spoke after a moment, without thinking.

He leaned back. Intrigue flashed in his light eyes. “What is it?”

“You. It’s you.”

His mouth fell agape just slightly. You went still, almost shocked at your own words, waiting for him to say anything. Do anything. But he kept quiet, his gaze on yours all the while. You grew nervous under that gaze but didn’t dare look away. The moment was too important to you. You wanted to see him.

The room stopped spinning and time stood still in that fraction of a second when he first leant forward. You had thought about this moment for years and turned it over and over in your mind. You wondered how it would happen, where it would happen - if it would ever happen. And there you were, in your Amsterdam hotel room, and it was happening. He was kissing you.

He was kissing you and you were on fire. Your skin felt hot and your lips melted against his swiftly, tasting the alcohol and cigarettes that stained his tongue. His hands cradled your face, holding you there, wanting this kiss to last forever.

But it didn’t, and you knew it wouldn’t, although it still hurt when he pulled away. You wanted to kiss him all night.

Instead, he let his thumbs slide over your cheeks, one of them swiping over your bottom lip gently. “Good night.”

You awoke the next morning, or rather, afternoon, wondering if the night before had really happened, or if it was just some sort of euphoric dream that your jet lagged brain had concocted to mess with you. The feeling that sunk into your bones left you on a high yet also an anxious wreck.

You kissed Ashton; your brother’s best friend and bandmate. Your childhood friend. Someone you grew up with. It was a strange concept to grasp, and part of you wondered if he was thinking about it in the same way you were.

After he said good night, he had just stood up and left your hotel room with one longing glance over his shoulder. You wondered if he wanted to stay, or if he left because he thought it was a mistake. Your brain was thinking in overdrive.

As you laid in bed, you texted Luke about the day’s plans. Everyone had woken up considerably late since the night before was spent drinking excessively. You thought about how Luke and Calum probably spent their mornings kicking out the girls they had won over the night before. Yikes.

Luke notified you that they would send a car from security to pick you up and bring you to the venue later. The band had already woken up early (and hungover) to soundcheck, so you were left to your own devices for the remainder of the afternoon.

You spent that time getting ready for their show, organizing your suitcase since the next day you and the band would be headed to Germany for the next gig. You were only staying for a few days, but being able to make it to more than one country was kind of thrilling to you. It had been a while since you travelled like this.

You put a bit of extra effort into your hair and make up, suddenly feeling like you had someone to impress. You tried not to get too ahead of yourself.

By the time you ordered room service and ate, you were ready to go. Your stomach was churning as you were driven to the venue and escorted into the band’s dressing room. It was usually off limits even for guests, but Luke was kind enough to cut you some slack.

When you entered the dressing room, it was a bit hectic. Your brother was sat shirtless in a chair in front of a mirror getting his hair gelled by someone on their styling team. Michael was on the phone with his fiance, and Calum was chatting with Ashton on a leather sofa. Everyone turned to look at you when you came in.

“Ah, she has risen,” Luke shouted, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t have to wake up early and kick some strangers out of my bed.”

The guys laughed as Luke flipped the finger in your direction. When you moved to find a seat in the room, you met eyes with Ashton. You couldn’t help it when you looked away quickly and sat down next to Michael.

“So, Y/N, are you excited for the show?” Calum asked you. He sipped on some coffee, clearly feeling a bit tired from the night before.

“Uh, yeah,” You stuttered. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys perform.”

“Well, don’t worry, we’ve improved since your mom’s basement.”

You laughed at Calum’s remark, shaking your head. “I came to see you guys, like, two years ago. It hasn’t been that long.”

The conversation died down quickly after, and you became more aware of Ashton’s presence. Neither one of you had said anything to each other yet. Internally, you were panicking. Had you said too much? Was the kiss just a drunken mistake? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen?

You didn’t know what to make of the situation, but it was eating at you. However, there wasn’t much more time to reflect, as the guys were about to get on stage. You studied them; their outfits, how much they had grown into themselves and found their way. As they filed together to get a photo before heading out, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of pride. They really had made it.

One of their team members escorted you to your seat in the guest section of the audience. There were just as many screaming girls as you had remembered, although it seemed a bit toned down at this point. You couldn’t help it when you joined in when they entered the stage. Luke took the center, with Calum and Michael to his sides. In the back perched at his drum kit was Ashton.

When you looked at him, your heart ached.

You were alone in your hotel room for the night. After the show, you had ditched the guys and gone back on your own to pack for the next show and get yourself together. They had insisted on trying some pub downtown, but after the high of their performance, you couldn’t really be bothered. Also, maybe you were avoiding someone.

After taking a hot shower and using subpar hotel shampoo and conditioner, you dressed yourself in an oversized hoodie and shorts. You were climbing onto the bed when you heard a knock on your door, as if on cue.

Once you pulled yourself out of bed, you pushed your hair wet hair out of your face to look through the door’s peephole. Your heart instantly skipped a beat at the sight of who was out there.

“Ashton,” You breathed out his name and swung the door open. “Aren’t you supposed to be out?”

He looked too good. You almost couldn’t meet his eyes. He was dressed in dark pants and his usual boots, a satin button up tucked into an expensive belt. Short sleeves hugged his biceps, showing off the muscles beneath his exposed skin. His hair had been styled neatly after a post-show shower. A few strands hung down onto his forehead effortlessly, and you realized that your current look didn’t exactly live up to his.

When he spoke, his voice was low, hesitant. “I...uh, wanted to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed at his tone. You were instantly nervous - those words usually never signaled that something good was about to happen. Given last night’s circumstances, you automatically assumed the worst. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say.

You stepped aside, nodding. “Okay. Come in, then.”

You watched as Ashton strode into your room. His walk was slow, as if every step he took, he was unsure of. He kept running his fingers through his neatly combed hair, ruining it, but he didn’t seem to care about his appearance right then. He didn’t seem to realize how handsome he looked.

He turned and leaned back against the dresser, eyes following your figure as you crossed the room to sit before him on the foot of your bed. You noted how he didn’t sit beside you, like the night before. He kept his distance.

“Yesterday,” He began. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

You stared at him blankly, despite the heavy weight that crushed your chest. His words stung. They were plainly stated and blunt as if he was simply trying to rip off the band-aid. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, so he inevitably continued.

“I was just kind of overwhelmed, you know? I haven’t seen you in years even though you used to be one of my best friends. Then Luke drops on me that you’re spending a few days on tour, and you walk in...and you’re beautiful, really beautiful. More than I remembered.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. You didn’t know what to make of this conversation, or where it was going. It was hard to understand if he was regretting the night before or if he was justifying it. The confusion etched into his features seemed to mirror his thoughts.

With a sigh, you decided to speak. “Ashton -”

“No, just listen,” He interrupted. “Hear me out.”

“Alright.”

“I can’t have feelings for you like that. You’re my best friend’s little sister. I’ve known you my whole life, it feels. It’s wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You knew that the hurt you were feeling was showing on your face, because instantly, the look in Ashton’s eyes softened. He didn’t want to upset you - you knew that. But you couldn’t help how he was dismissing the moment you shared, the words you spoke to him, just because the situation seemed wrong by technicality. It certainly didn’t feel wrong. Not to you, at least.

Through the disappointment and pain you were simultaneously feeling, all you could do was stare. Ashton had stopped speaking momentarily. He looked as if he wanted to say more, as if the words were on the tip of his tongue, clouding his mind. However, he closed the space between the two of you, and took a seat next to you on the bed. You registered this as some sort of surrender.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more gentle. A whisper at your skin.

“But I don’t care. And I want you to know that.”

You snapped to meet his gaze. You knew your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. You had wanted to say so much when you first registered his words, but now, your mind drew a blank. He had feelings for you. After all these years, he had feelings for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to conjure up a reply. Instead, you took his face between your hands, pressed your lips to his. He was surprised at first but grew to settle into your kiss almost immediately. His hands found your waist and urged you closer; he needed you there.

Your knees knocked and the kiss was heated and fast. You swallowed his breaths as his hands danced up your waist, feeling and feeling and feeling. You let him pull you into his lap so that each of your thighs straddled him.

As his tongue ran over yours, you found trouble processing what was happening. You thought about being sixteen years old and loving him with everything in you, but doing nothing about it. You thought about when he left home for the road and didn’t look back. You thought about how your heart was broken, but he was now stitching it back together. And he had felt this way all along, you realized.

His grip was strong on your hips as you leaned down to kiss him with a fervor that was unfamiliar to you. Your hands were in his hair, tugging, relishing everything he was giving you in that moment. There was so much to say yet nothing to say at all.

Ashton slowly backed down so that he was laying on the mattress, your figure looming over his. Your kisses came to an abrupt halt at once; your eyes flew open, landing on his. The green was darker, pupils blown, stare wide and wild.

The way he looked up at you sent your stomach into somersaults. You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you.

“Wait,” His voice was strained. “Do - do you want this?”

“Ashton, I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old.”

He smiled subtly. It was just the twitch of his mouth ends, but it meant so much to you. He reached up, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and kissed you shortly. “I wanted to hear that.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down to kiss him again. This time it was slower, sweeter, and the both of you were savoring every second of it. His hands traveled down your back, over your spine, slipping beneath your hoodie to feel the warmth of your skin. Everywhere his fingertips touched, goosebumps rose in their wake. He was affecting you so heavily in just moments.

The room around you was quiet aside from the quiet noise of your kisses. Ashton’s lips moved slowly against yours. When he pulled away to move you onto your back so you were the one beneath him, you finally got a real look at his appearance. His hair was disheveled and cheeks slightly flushed, eyes hooded. He was unreal.

His next move was felt at your navel, where his fingers were tugging gently on the hem of your sweatshirt. You watched the expression on his face change as you allowed him to pull it over your head and off, exposing your bare chest. His eyes raked over your torso, hands following suit, trailing up over your stomach, landing on your breasts. His breathing was heavy when he moved to reconnect your lips.

Something was growing in the pit of your stomach as he touched you, explored your body in the ways he had thought about too many times to admit. You couldn’t help yourself once you began unbuttoning his shirt until it was left open, showcasing the ridges of his abdomen, the light hairs on his chest. He moved back to shrug it off completely. In the dim light of the hotel room, he took your breath away.

You pulled him back to you and let your touch trail over the wide expanse of his back. His body was firm, muscled beneath your hands. You let yourself focus on the sensation of his warmth as his lips trailed down the hollow of your throat; kissing, sucking, nipping. Your back arched into the feeling subconsciously as you released a pent up breath.

“Always been so pretty,” Ashton murmured against your collarbone. He lifted his head. “Want you to feel how much I’ve wanted this.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. He lifted himself so he was on his knees on the bed, his stature looming over you as you felt strangely exposed before him. You watched idly as his hands moved toward the buckle of his belt, unclasping it with ease, before moving to the button of his jeans.

“Let me,” You whispered.

His eyes flickered down to you. They held an intensity that was foreign to you. It was still Ashton, but you had yet to see him like this.

You noticed the obvious strain against his jeans as you leaned up onto your elbows. Your fingers shook slightly as you snapped open the button, followed by the drag of his zipper. He helped you in pulling the denim down just enough, allowing you the freedom to dip your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“Feel that?” He glanced at you.

You nodded slowly, your eyes locked on him. He was hard beneath your touch as your hand wrapped around his length and squeezed gently. You immediately felt how badly he wanted you.

Absently, you shifted so that you were laying on your front before him, Ashton still propped on his knees. His lips were parted, hands running through his hair as you smoothly jerked him before bringing his tip to your lips. You couldn’t help yourself when you licked at it, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. His hands moved to push your hair away from your face.

You lowered your mouth down his length, hollowing your cheeks and sucking to accommodate him. His abdomen tensed as your nose became nearly level with it. Tears perked up in your eyes until you pulled back, then continued the motion all over again, bobbing your head at a steady pace.

His hands gripped at the roots of your hair without him even realizing. He threw his head back as you sucked him off, completely reveling in the pleasure of your mouth on him. He was having trouble believing that this moment was truly happening; you, with him, just like this.

Ashton cursed under his breath. “Just like that, baby.” He encouraged.

His words urged you to increase your pace just slightly. You took his length in your hand, swirled your tongue around his tip, listening to the way he reacted to your movements. He was starting to sweat and his body was tense. You knew that this wouldn’t last long for him.

Still, you lowered your mouth again until you were deepthroating him, bringing your touch down to his balls. You squeezed gently, released them as you gagged. Ashton’s grip on your hair loosened as you did so, his voice wrecked as he mumbled, “Good girl.”

The praise turned you on more than you anticipated. You could feel yourself craving him between your legs - even more so when he pulled you up to kiss him roughly. It was sloppy and haphazard, but you didn’t care. He was so immersed in the moment and you knew he wanted to return the favor.

“Lay down for me, alright?” Ashton said. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You nodded in compliance. Your eyes remained on his as you backed onto the mattress, still in nothing but your shorts. His chest was now flushed red, his jeans still hiked around his thighs, cock standing at its peak. He looked too good for you to fathom. You could only think about all the ways you wanted him; how you would let him do anything to you in that moment.

Ashton shifted so that he was pinning your hips to the bed. He pulled your shorts down quickly, ditching them onto the mattress beside you. His eyes danced wildly over your body, drinking you in.

You watched him with ease as he pushed your legs apart, twining them over his arms and on each side of his head. He studied your reactions as he kissed up the insides of your thighs, painfully slowly, making you twitch beneath him with anticipation.

“Ashton,” You urged, your voice sounding unfamiliar to you.

He didn’t say anything - just pushed his face forward, flattening his tongue on your center, licking upward in one swift motion. You immediately shut your eyes at the sensation, your hips involuntarily jutting upward. He welcomed the movement, continuing the circling of his tongue.

You gripped the comforter beneath you as Ashton worked at your center. He sucked on your clit sporadically, occasionally moving to your thighs to tease you. You were worked up in seconds, biting down on your lip to keep from yelling out. He knew exactly what he was doing.

A curse tumbled from your mouth when he abruptly slipped two fingers into your entrance. He continued with his mouth at your clit, licking and licking as he stared up at you. You found it hard to focus on this as he worked on pumping his fingers in and out, curling to try and reach your g-spot.

He didn’t remove his mouth from your center once as he moved his fingers skillfully. You were practically whining from the sensation, giving him a strong sense of satisfaction as your body writhed beneath him. He tried to keep you still with his free hand, extending it over your abdomen, feeling you tense beneath him.

He only lifted his head once to speak. “Tell me when you come for me.”

You nodded frantically - it was all you could manage in the moment. Your face was contorted as he increased the pace of his fingers inside you.

“I’m coming,” You exhaled. The deadly combination of his fingers and his tongue was what sent you over the edge. He removed his fingers as your body pulsed, leaving his mouth to finish the job, to truly taste you.

You felt yourself twitch under him as he licked at your center once more, his hands smoothing over the skin of your thighs. He savored every second of your orgasm; watched you unravel with a feeling of pride that he could do that to you.

As you let out a deep breath, your body finally relaxed beneath him. Ashton said nothing as he lifted his head, sitting back to look at you in the aftermath of your climax. Despite the exhaustion you felt from such an intense pleasure, you still craved him.

“C’mere,” You breathed out. “God.”

He chuckled lowly, shifting to kiss your neck again. “That good?”

“Too good.”

Ashton ran his fingers down your arm, watching your skin erupt into goosebumps. “Just you wait.”

You leaned in to kiss him. The gesture was slow, allowing you to really ease into his taste. You rolled onto your side to trail your fingertips down his torso, feeling the dips and curves and edges. He immediately groaned into your mouth once you wrapped your hands around his length, stroking once more while he kicked his jeans off the rest of the way.

“You gonna let me fuck you just as good?” He mumbled against your lips.

You stopped your movements. “Please.”

The word itself was all it took for Ashton to pull your body against his, so that your back was flush to his front. He lifted one of your legs, held it there, and then moved so that he could run the tip of his cock against your entrance. You shivered as you waited for him to push inside, and when he did, you couldn’t help the explicit moan you released.

“My God, baby.” Ashton’s voice was strained against your ear.

He used his tight grip on your hip as leverage to push into you completely, feeling you stretch around him. The pressure in your lower abdomen was intense as your walls contracted around him, adjusting. The sensation was overwhelming.

You clenched your jaw. “So big, Ash.”

He groaned again at your words, his forehead pressed against the back of your shoulder. He pulled out almost completely, then pushed back in before he began to develop a rhythm. Your eyes rolled back with the pleasure.

You felt him thrust into you more pointedly with each passing second. He was trying to focus on your pleasure as well as his own, but it seemed difficult for him, as he had been waiting for this moment for too long. The both of you had waited for it.

When he spoke into your ear again, his tone was wrecked, a low grit. “Look straight. The mirror.”

You followed his directions to see the mirror that was just before the bed. You became familiar with your reflections through your blurred vision. The sight was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Ashton’s arms were so strong, holding you steady, his body glistening in a light layer of sweat as he fucked into you. You looked small before him as he held you on your side, enjoying the proximity and pleasure. It was deeply enticing to watch the intimacy play out before you.

When your eyes locked in the reflection, you bit your lip absently. The way he moved with you effortlessly was just an illustration of the chemistry you shared. It was intoxicating; the way it felt as though your bodies were made for this. You wondered how you spent so many years wishing for it, just wasting time.

When he nudged you to lay on your back, you braced yourself for the way he would make you feel with the new angle. “I need to see you.” He said in undertone.

He held himself up over you on his arms, relying on the shift of his hips on their own. You moaned at how he moved into you so deeply, so intensely. It was too much to see his face level above yours. His brow was furrowed and a vein protruded from his neck, his jaw set and locked. Your stomach flipped as his pace decreased subtly. He was slowing it down.

“Wanna make this last,” He gritted out. “Look so pretty.”

“Feels so good, Ashton.”

“Wanted this for too long, baby.” He admitted.

You could tell he was getting lost in the moment as his words grew more difficult to decipher. You wanted to cry out in pleasure as he moved his hips more pointedly, each thrust feeling more deliberate and deeper. You arched up into him, allowing him to move into you at the perfect angle, making you feel dizzy in the head.

“Gonna come soon,” Ashton told you. His voice was hoarse.

You turned your head, watched in the mirror as he focused on fucking you. He dipped his head down to kiss at your neck, sponging his lips over the skin, his body as close to you as physically possible. In the mirror, his back was broad and tense, hair hanging into his face. His thrusts were growing shorter.

You felt your climax approaching with every move. You succumbed to the pleasure, let it wash over you as your walls squeezed around his length with the feeling. Ashton groaned at the sensation, letting out a string of curses as you came around him without warning.

“That’s it,” He murmured.

Ashton pulled out of you quickly, stroking himself as shifted on the mattress and finished himself off. He came in stripes over your stomach. Until he gave you everything he had, your chests rose and fell quickly with the heat of the moment.

He allowed himself to collapse onto the mattress. When your eyes locked, it felt different, this time - as if the both of you had shared something that was unique to one another. As Ashton spoke, you knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I’ve been in love with you all these years, too.” He said. “You know me more than most, baby. I told you that.”

#writing #ashton writing #my writing #5sos writing #5sos #5sos fic #ashton one shot #one shot #5sos one shot #5sos smut #smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin one shot

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serenitydusk · 6 years

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Safe

Here’s a fic based off an rp between Dusk (my female OC) and @darkipliersjournal, also featuring @wilfordsdiary, and a quote “I could keep you safe. They’re all afraid of me.” Enjoy.

Dusk had stayed too long, lulled into thinking perhaps she had managed to finally lose them. She had been lulled by this world and its quiet, unspoiled beauty. She had been lulled by the kindness of the people there, who had welcomed her without reservation, though she was a stranger.

She had been foolish to stay. And some of these people and some of the beauty of this world paid the price for her mistake. It was not her blade that cut. It was not her fire set to destroy. But the sin would still stain her soul, darkening it further, tipping the balance she strove to keep.

Opening a portal, she fled. She was not afraid to stand and fight, but she knew when she left, they would follow. To linger and fight would only bring more suffering on the innocent. She held a picture of home in her mind, seeing every detail as though she stood there, smelling the flowers that bloomed in her garden, feeling the cool air of her forest home, hearing the wind sing through the trees, tasting the sharp, bittersweet tang of the herbs that hung drying in her work room. With those firmly locked in her mind, stepped into the portal, grabbed the winds and rode.

And fell.

Dusk felt the moment her power gave out and she could no longer ride the winds that carried her in the In Between. They slipped through her grasping, panicking fingers as she plunged into darkness. She tried to at least guide where she would land as she ripped through the In Between, but it was like sailing in a hurricane. Her breath was knocked out of her when she did finally land, skidding across the ground until she came to a stop beneath a bent and gnarled tree. Lying there panting, she finally was able to scoot over to it, using it to pull herself up to seated position and lean her back against it. Every breath was agony and her head throbbed. She didn’t know how long she rested against the tree, eyes closed, trying to breathe through the pain, but she knew she had to find some place safe and soon. Looking down at her body, she saw mostly cuts and bruises, some bad, but none debilitating. No broken bones, but her ribs had taken a beating when she fell. Her powers, however, were weakened. She could still feel a faint spark, trying to heal the worst injuries. Eventually with time and rest, they would be restored, but right now, she couldn’t even open a portal, let alone ride the winds. She was trapped.

Staggering to her feet, she looked around. She knew this place. Of all the places she could have ended up, why here? Here in the very den of a predator. While he always seemed cordial and even at times almost friendly, she didn’t know yet how much of that was real and how much of that was a polished façade carefully crafted to make his prey unwary. No matter. She couldn’t change anything. At best perhaps she could find a place to hide and heal. Normally Dark didn’t seem to notice she was here unless she called for him. Perhaps she could heal and be gone before he found her in her weakened condition.

Turning a slow circle, she tried to decide which way to go. The landscape was shrouded in a thick fog, obscuring landmarks, while the sky was dimly lit by the sliver of silver. She had no landmark to guide her, and no place to go if she did. She closed her eyes in a moment of despair. Letting it wash over her, she grimly set one foot in front of the other and began to walk.

Dark was sitting in his study reading when he felt Dusk cross over. He frowned, normally her arrivals were quiet affairs, but this felt wild and violent. Waiting for her call for him, his frown deepened when there was nothing but silence. He knew that she sometimes came and spent time exploring before asking to visit with him. He indulged her curiosity because he found it…quaint and somewhat endearing. But always after her little forays, she would announce her presence. This wasn’t like her, at all. Snapping the book shut, he rose, leaving his manor and heading out into the bleak night to find her and find out what was going on.

As he walked, homing in on her, he felt the others rip through the barriers in between the worlds and enter his territory. Five of them, empty shells full of ravening hunger and malice. Revenants. Disgusting creatures. Created using unholy means, they possessed a degree of intelligence, but their will was bound to another. Dusk was one of the rare few he allowed to come into his demesne with no repercussion. These beasts, however, were not welcome here, and he didn’t take their intrusion lightly.

He found where she had arrived, her scent and blood still marking the land in a shallow trench leading to the base of a tree. Following her path, he felt her presence as he grew closer. Her normally calm demeanor was riddled with pain and he tasted her despair, bitter and hot. His jaw clenched, no small part in anger, but also as the delicious taste of her pain and despair rolled over him. Shuddering as images broke and distorted around him, he cracks his neck and reins them in until they are just a jittering blue and red outline, barely visible from his form. As a rule, he didn’t indulge in the suffering of those considered… He paused in his thoughts. Had Dusk managed to worm her way into a friendship? Grimacing, that was something to ponder another time. Regardless, he had grown accustom to their conversations. For now, he preferred her mind and spirit intact.

Quickening his pace, he soon heard fighting. Down in a sloped valley, Dusk was surrounded by four of them. A fifth already lay at her feet dead. She was struggling to keep the four from flanking her, but it was a losing battle. He could tell by her movements and the scent of her blood she was injured. But still, to watch her fight was a thing of beauty. It seemed almost like a dance when she moved, bringing her sword up at the last moment to strike, cutting the arm off a revenant right below the elbow. Precise and elegant.

Dark moved to intercept one of the revenants flanking Dusk. It was so intent on her, it didn’t see the shadowy tendrils until they had wrapped around it, tearing it apart with brutal efficiency. It dropped to the ground, in pieces, as the shadows drifted back to Dark, pooling on the ground around him. Dusk had finished off the revenant, who was now headless in addition to missing their lower arm. She circled the two remaining, barely acknowledging Dark with a glance. Her movements were becoming slower and jerky, and she was favoring her left side which was shiny with blood.

Dark leapt without warning, bearing down on the revenant on the right, while Dusk waited for the one on the left to come to her, buying a little time to catch her breath. Dark whirled his black cane in a blur, the silver grip arcing through the air with a whistle until it connected with the revenant’s skull, crippling it. It twitched and shuddered on the ground until Dark brought his cane down a final time.

The last revenant barreled after Dusk with a roar and she couldn’t turn fast enough to avoid the full weight of its blow. Staggering to her knees, she fought to stand back up. The revenant grinned, its poison green eyes full of gleeful hate. It stalked her, taunting as she pulled herself up. She brought her sword up. If she was to die, it would be fighting and she damn sure wasn’t letting them take her alive.

Shadows speared through Its chest, flinging gore and ichor everywhere. The surprise on its face would have been amusing, if Dusk hadn’t been fighting to remain standing. Revenants were relentless, but not very bright. Ignoring Dark has been their undoing. The shadows recoiled, slithering back to Dark and vanishing.

“You’re hurt.” It was not a question. His voice, silken and low, more than a hint of mocking. He cleaned off his cane, polishing away the blood and bits left behind. It was hard to watch her, vulnerable and hurt. It called to him, to his darker instincts. It would be so easy to give in and feast on her pain. He could break her. Break her mind, crush her spirit, watch her crumble. Rip open her psyche and see what all was inside and what it took to make it snap. The thought slithered through his mind and he dismissed it. He had somehow grown partial to her. For now, anyway. He huffed at himself in annoyance at the inconvenience of it. He watched her, head tilted as though waiting to see what she would do. Would she attack or flee? She hadn’t lowered her sword yet, though it was not raised to attack either.

She didn’t answer him, as she panted. Her injuries were obvious. She looked him in the eyes and wondered if it was her own death she saw mirrored in them. Her sword fell from her numb fingers and she swayed on her feet. Dammit. The last thing she saw was the cold smirk on his face before he lunged, and darkness closed in.

He, of course, had caught her, his shadows slowing her fall, holding her until he reached her. Scooping her up, he was surprised at just how small she was. She whimpered, even though unconscious. He wasn’t one to comfort, but still, he adjusted her carefully against him, not to further exacerbate her injuries.

She awoke with a start, disoriented. Bolting upright, she looked around the unfamiliar room, her too wide, too wild eyes landing on Dark. He was sitting back, looking out a window, when he heard her indrawn breath. Turning towards her, he waited, still and unmoving. Speaking soft and low, “Are you alright, dear?”

Her breath came out in pants, as her fingers clutched the sheets. Her voice sounded gritty and raw, as though she had been screaming. Perhaps she had been before he arrived. “I have to go before they find me.” She looked around the room, eyeing the door and considering her options.

“They won’t find you. I’ve made an example out of the last creatures they sent. They won’t be back.” He looked away and out the window, “But if they do, I can make my message louder, if need be.” There was something about the way he said the words, devoid of anything remotely benevolent, that sent ice sliding down her spine.

Before she could comment, a man burst into the room, bringing with him the smell of sugared treats and gunpowder. All in pastels, pink and yellow, he spoke in a voice of honeyed cream, as though chewing around fluffy taffy, “There you are, Dark. I have been looking all over for you.”

“I’ve been attending to my guest, Wil.” Dark inclined his head towards Dusk, the faintest smile ghosting over his lips, as he looked up at the newcomer. Wilford turns and seeing her exclaims, “Why look at her! She’s just a little bit of fluff.” His face scrunches, “Do you intend on keeping her?”

“Keep me?” her voice grew low and cold. Fissions of heat shimmer formed around her body, the faintest lavender.

“She’s not a pet, Wilford.” Dark smirked as Dusk’s eyes narrow. He’d noticed the strange shimmer radiating off her. This is new, he thought.

“She looks rather pale.” Wilford pulled up a chair right beside Dark. Concern and something much darker went through Wilford’s eyes as he turned them towards the woman, “Do you think she’s going to make it? Might be best to put her out of her misery.” His hand flexed, fingers curling, as though holding a gun.

A low rumble grew, as Dusk growled, the sound much bigger and deeper than it should have been from someone her size. Her lips curled back baring curved fangs. The shimmer around her darkened to amethyst, and her eyes lit in violet smoke and flame.

Wilford gasped in amazement, “Why, Dark, she’s positively feral!”

“It would appear the little one has fangs.” Dark kept his satisfied smirk to himself. He enjoyed watching her reserved demeanor bend and crack, so he could see what lurked inside. “Why don’t you go get her something to eat. She’s been unconscious for three days. She’s sure to be hungry.”

Wil gave Dark a little pout, “I know what you’re doing, but I’ll go get our pet a little something.”

It was all Dusk could do not to hiss and snap at him as he left. Her eyes never left Wilford. It was not until the door closed, did she look back at Dark. She wondered what these men were to each other. The way Dark relaxed around Wil would suggest a deep level of trust.

He watched as she slowly pulled herself back together, fangs hidden, growl fading, eyes their normal, non-glowing shade of violet. Her aura still flared and shimmered, though it was pulled much closer to her body now.

“Three days?” She rasped.

Dark shrugged, “Tomorrow will be four.”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay here.” She tried to swing her feet over the edge of the bed, only to be pushed back by Dark.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The moment you leave here, they will swarm you.” He barely had to exert any effort to keep her pushed back against the pillows. He leaned down, his face close to hers, the smell of vetiver and citrus filling her senses, “I didn’t drag you here, so you could end up someone else’s prey.”

Fire lit in her eyes again, pushing back the fear with anger. “I am no one’s prey.”

He smirked, her response exactly what he wanted. And just in time, Wilford returned with a tray of food, “Here we go. Little bits of everything for our fluff.”

Dark rolled his eyes and took the tray from Wilford, placing it on Dusk’s lap. “Do take care around her, Wil.”

Wilford cocked his head to the side, “Do you think she bites?”

Dark smiled slyly as Dusk’s aura flared and sparked, but she remained silent, though glaring at Wilford. “Wil, why don’t give me a moment to get her settled in and I’ll join you downstairs.”

Wilford sighed dramatically, “Fine, fine. But if she bites you, I don’t want to hear a peep about it.” He huffed out the door, and she could hear him talking and muttering as he left.

When his voice finally faded, Dark turned back to her. “Why do they hunt you?”

She looked down, her food suddenly needing to be examined intensely. “It’s hard to explain.”

He leaned against the wall, and shrugged, “Stay.” He didn’t push, sensing she was too brittle right now. Brute force had its uses, but so did surgical precision, keeping her carefully off balance.

“What? What do you mean ‘stay’?” She looked up at him, genuinely confused.

He laughed humorlessly and pushed away from the wall, returning to his seat, “Stay here.”

“I can’t hide here forever.”

Looking back at the window, he answered, “No, not forever.” His images glitched wildly, one of them turning to look at her, screaming at her in rage, reaching towards her. “But for a time, you would be safe. They can’t hurt you here.” Seeing her reflection in the window, he smiled mercilessly, “You’re not afraid of me, are you dear?”

“Only a fool wouldn’t be.”

#Dusk #Fiction #Darkiplier #Wilford #Warfstache #safe

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vivirnet · 4 years

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200721 | slow down.

( image cover. ) — location: echo main house / vivi’s bedroom.

CT: his thoughts are still consumed by the idea of hunters being so close to echo territory. there’s no lingering signs, no obvious foreign scents, and yet that only makes him more suspicious. if aspen was trying to find those hunters and somehow it brought him to their area, either aspen is a shit tracker, a liar, or the hunters are long gone by now. without confirmation, the need to patrol is overwhelming but doubt doesn’t ease whenever he does. he carries it with him instead, in his shoulders, in the curling of fingers into tight fists, and how the corners of his mouth don’t lift as easily as before the new addition to the pack. rolling his head, he tries to ease the tension and finds no release. bad habits encourage him to seek out a different release whenever stress compounds and he rationalizes that as why he’s outside vivi’s room again but he knows better. even as he opens the door and walks in, he knows he’s too tired for that, be it mentally or physically, and the relief he feels upon the sight of her has nothing to do with that sort of release. wordlessly, he walks over to her, knowing that she’ll assume he’s here with the same intentions as he pulls her to the edge of the bed from where she’d been sitting. his gaze is harsher than usual, until he drops to his knees, arms wrapping around her and drawing her close as he leans over her lap, turning his head so his cheek presses against her stomach.

VI: As soon as she senses the beta's presence, she's quick to put her unlit candles away. They've been occupying her spare time, whether it came to making them or enjoying them as is. But it's calming to say the least. It's not as wasteful as baking tirelessly through the night is either. The song and dance continues, she thinks. Vivi isn't surprised by the pull towards him, yet the feeling of being weightless tickles her and she yelps. Then, for a moment or two, she's waiting for some kind of instruction only to find none. Is something wrong? Well of course, she answers herself. Carter wouldn't normally be this quiet either. Whatever's making him this way quickly becomes the only thing that swirls in her mind and makes her tense. But two tense wolves won't make it better. So, she relaxes in his warmth.

Holding his head with gentle hands, she brushes his hair back in slow movements. Kissing his head, she's letting the moments slip by in hopes he'll tell her when he's ready. Though, the more she remembers previous instances, the more she thinks it wouldn't actually happen. "Carebear." She tilts her head to see more of his face while offering a small smile. Then, falling backwards just enough, she grabs Cheer Bear and returns with a brighter smile that reaches her eyes—muted violet for the most part though it gradually becomes more vibrant. "Care for a carebear?"

CT: the initial tension in her body isn't surprising but he is glad when it seems to melt away, or he'd feel the need to leave first, frustration continuing to grow with the notion that he's upset her too. he doesn't know where to begin, doesn't know how to explain that he's just so tired, that exhaustion is all he can think of and yet he must persist in being vigilant. despite echo's loose interpretation of pack standards— at least from what he can assume from seraph in particular— he doesn't think he's free of them, of feeling the pull of instinct, constantly reminding him he must protect everyone.

eyes flutter shut at the gentle motions of her hands, nuzzling her stomach and taking in a deep breath at the kiss she leaves atop his head. the nickname reminds him that he's likely worrying her despite the physical tension leaving her body for now and he tries his best to manage a smile, however crooked and faint it is. when she pulls away, eyes opening, his fingers sprawl across her lower back, supporting her but also willing her to stay. "if i say yes, do you count?" chuckling as he straightens up slightly, one hand slipping to squeeze her thigh in acknowledgment. "i want you the most."

VI: Hugging the bear now, the urge too strong to resist, she props her chin on its head. The thought that anything in the world would bother Carter both amazes and scares her. She's always held the impression that he can get through anything and everything. Whatever happens in the future, whoever he ends up with, she can't even hope that he won't forget her. And just like that, the bittersweet feeling of losing the moment she's currently living in persists. Even when he smiles at her, particularly now, she thinks she'll never get to be the one to see more of him. She'll just never be good enough to.

So, she smiles that much brighter. She can at least do that. It's quite easy for her to live in a fantasy, after all—to believe that he's here because he finds comfort with her. "Me?" She absentmindedly points to herself, eyes blown wide. "But you're the carebear." 'Someone who's always warm and inviting.' She props the bear atop his head, as if to make a point. "I see no difference." 'Someone who's always looking out for others.' She giggles, the image simply tickling her. But when he says that, her thoughts get thrown out the window. Is this part of her daydreams again or is this real? "What did you say?"

CT: she looks cute when she asks for confirmation. then again, he thinks that often, always. even when they were young, wasn't vivi cute to him then too? it's a wonder he hasn't questioned if his attraction to her is warped or deprived, but he believes he'd feel drawn to her in any setting, in any verse. once he knows she exists, how can he not like her? "you're a carebear too, aren't ya? what are they for again? it's cute and soft, so are you." scrunching up his nose when the stuffed animal is placed atop her head, he laughs, reaching for it and placing it down on the bed before taking her hands now that they're empty, bringing them to his lips and brushing plush tiers along the arches of her fingers.

"hm? didn't hear me?" but if he says it again, will she believe him? will she play it off as carnal want? it wouldn't be a lie but he wants her more than that— wants to hold her, wants to kiss her, wants to be with her, wants her. in his life, by his side, as his. that's not possible though, is it? so he keeps his smile vague, light, as he kisses her hand again, this time lifting her arms and turning them slightly to kiss the inside of her wrists too. "should we get your hearing checked?"

VI: Using her free hand, she covers her mouth with a genuine gasp. Though she recognizes that it’s a compliment to herself, albeit somewhat debatable, she’s far more concerned with how he said ’too’, as in, in agreement. “You admitted to it.” Her eyes are blown wide, and it’s a wonder how her jaw doesn’t quite literally drop—although her hand does the next moment. “You are cute and soft! I’m so happy you agree with me!” She grins brighter, because isn’t that just the sweetest thing? She can’t laugh at that.

Unfazed by the hand kissing, finding it also sweet in and of itself, she’s more caught up in the reverie. Now she’s really starting to question whether she heard correctly—that he wants her. It sounded so serious, too. Does he really have to joke about her hearing right now? She swallows, smiling sheepishly anyway. “Maybe- But like, could you repeat it anyway?” Familiar pink hues return to her cheeks and she’s too shy to look at him properly. Would it really be so bad to say ‘I want you, too’ and possibly chalk it up to a sexual desire in case she really does have the wrong idea? But even the thought of saying that right now makes her head spin. Everything’s making less sense to her by the second.

CT: "i can't say no if you say i'm one, right? if you're a carebear, guess i gotta be one too." there's a sense of deja vu that comes with that. he thinks of some kind of movie vivi or someone else might've forced him to watch but the sincerity of his words still stand, reminiscent of a line from a movie or not. rolling his eyes when she calls him cute and soft, says that he agrees of all things as if the notion comes completely from him when she's the one who started all this carebear stuff, he can't help smiling at how happy she seems, how happy he made her seem for the moment. he's the most drawn to her in moments like this, truly, because he can tell himself that he'll make her happy, that he can stay by her side if he can manage to do that.

mimicking her, he rocks his head back and forth teasingly, "you admitted to it" but the way he continues placing kisses to her skin, traveling up her forearm, deters from his joking. when she avoids his gaze, he questions if she knows just how much he wants her, at all times. and, though, he thinks it's better off for the both of their hearts to pretend this is only about lust, his heart sinks already at the thought that she really thinks that. so just what is better for his heart? sitting up, he slides his hand up to cup her cheeks with both hands, making her look him in the eyes, and the smile is automatic when he meets violet hues. he's always touching her, grabbing her, but she's the one with a hold on him. "i want you most," and more lingers on the tip of his tongue, that she's the only one he wants like this but he doesn't say it, feels the burn at the nape of his neck, so he kisses her instead, lips gently urging against hers.

VI: Even as she pouts, a whine threatens to escape her. If there's anything she's kept throughout the years, it'd be Carter and all her memories with him. There are more to come, she reassures herself. There would be plenty more days where she can run around their territory and catch whiff of the beta—running towards a scent so familiar that she barely ever names the different notes most times. It's just Carter and she'll always adore him. "You have so many names. Carebear's my favorite after your own." She can't remember exactly how the name came to be besides how she used to have trouble pronouncing some names. But when he smiles, there's no way anything's wrong. Vivi will live for the moments she gets to see them herself and bask in the warmth she feels from it.

Without the cheer bear to hold, she's left to watch their hands together. Her hands have always been smaller, more delicate, compared to his. It's a cute contrast. The reverie continues as she observes his movements that she can see without moving her head. However, distracted or not, she certainly doesn't expect Carter to repeat the very thing she heard. The words leave her even when she's brought to look at him, and particularly so when they're drawn into a familiar feeling. A craving she'll never quite let go off. Vivi holds onto his shirt, gripping it as she pushes forward. She barely even realizes how she lets "i only want you" slip between her brief pulls for breath.

CT: "i know i have plenty of names. my favorite one comes from you," and he half-expects her to joke that his favorite must be carebear then. truth is, he likes hearing his name the most from her, whether it's moaned when she's half-asleep or if she's calling his attention because of something she's found in the fairy king forest. when they were younger too, carter realizes now how much he likes who he must've looked like through her eyes. every good side of him, he ties to vivi. the rest? the lust, she's somehow accepted. but bloodlust, he's yet to ask, yet to consider, because he gets it now. that vivi gives rise to his conscience, that any semblance of humanity in him— god, he hates that there's no alternative word— is because he wants to be good, or as good as vivi seems to believe he is. hearing that her favorite name for him is his own though, it's hard to think he could want to be anything but good for her.

his head nearly pounds at the anticipation, as if he can feel the blood rush past, and he just might when vivi says that. he could return the favor, make her repeat it, but he's more scared that she won't, that she'll claim to have said nothing at all— what if he made it up? willful and wishful thinking. instead, he lets one hand fall behind her, arm tightening around her waist as he brings her closer, clinging on as if she'll disappear the moment he lets go, as if the moment will be gone and he'll wake up. must be a dream, that's the other option. but when he pauses, lips ghosting along hers and he nips at her upper lip, a soft chuckle slipping out when he stares at her, into eyes that just might be his favorite color too, he lets himself hope even for a second; that it's real. "vivi, i— " a crack of a smile on his lips, his free hand weaves into her hair, pulls her into another kiss, wanting her to feel the weight of the words that won't slip out, of the fact that he loves her.

VI: If it isn't obvious as countless times before, she goes pliant to his touch. Any sort of attention he gives her makes her heart beat that bit faster. It's a little pathetic, she can't help thinking. So, she clings to the words he explicitly tells her and perhaps those caught in the depths of her mind. Twisting and turning his words to meet her own desires a lot of the times. Vivi has to bring herself back down to Earth, back to reality. She focuses on the warmth of his skin on hers, the breath against her lips. They're so oftentimes by her... well, everywhere. If it isn't his hand, it's his lips on her neck, her thighs, her sides. She takes a deep breath when he chuckles, as if ready to hear the blatant rejection—only now really processing what she herself said. Or perhaps something a little softer. Carter's always been too nice to everyone, going along with what even she'd consider silly.

Nothing but her name slips out, however, causing her brows to knit despite the feeling of happiness that seems to extend to more than his smile. 'What's going on?' The question runs through her head again and again without pause. Her arms reach up to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck as the kiss deepens, if even possible. 'Hold me forever' circles her thoughts. But even as butterflies return—or maybe they never left—she pulls back slightly, catching the green in his eyes as hers remain as vibrant as ever. "Are you sure? 'Cause I am." She swallows as her gaze falls, not looking at anything in particular. "I don't see you as just our beta. Just someone to protect us. I see you as someone I love. Someone I always want to be with and maybe, somehow, even take care of." She huffs out a smile, looking back up at him. "Isn't that silly?"

CT: there's a few ways he could think of to back-pedal out of this— before things get too serious, before they fall in deep, but it'd be a fallacy. he'd just be lying to himself. again. because he wants this, he's wanted this, and, for a few years, the more he seeks vivi out— claims her in the midst of sin because it's the only time he's certain that he can— the deeper he's already fallen. love that hasn't faltered, hasn't diminished over time but grew and changed, that grows with her. he'd waited til she was of a more proper age to be as shameless as he is now with her but when did he go from loving her to being in love with her? that much, he doesn't have a timeline or even a guess for. he drowns in it and, though a joke is there, one that can easily be made about drowning in something in particular, of how wet things can become between them, the truth overwhelms everything. waves crashing against the shore, wiping his past and concerns away for the sake of one fact, he can't walk away from this; he can't figure out a way to pretend when she says all that she does.

he doubts his words can be as sweet as hers, that he could say anything that doesn't sound like a line considering all he's said and done as a beta. when she pulls away from the kisses, he can't imagine a more authentic way than to show her but he knows vivi better than that, knows that the physical aspect of their relationship gives rise to insecurity. he swears he can sense it and he's more adamant on calling her only his when he touches her. the power she has over him is immense, making him want to chuckle, because if she knew, she wouldn't have to ask anything, wouldn't call it silly. "i want to take care of you. i want to keep you all to myself. all these wants and wishes, i got 'em for you. so, yeah i'm sure. but... do you know what saying all that means, baby girl?" thumb caressing her cheek, he slides his hand behind her neck. "because i won't let go if you keep agreeing."

VI: The longer it takes for Carter to respond to her, the more prone she is to looking anywhere but him. Shifting uncomfortably albeit being in his arms, she's itching to do something with herself. Perhaps to appear unbothered, like this isn't some big deal in case she gets puts down this time. Then she could more easily play it off and pretend everything's okay, that she's okay. Because, really, a rejection could be at any corner. Carter has the power to change her feelings so easily. Sure, they say your feelings are your own. But what's so wrong in her reactions to him? If he's upset or exhausted, she reacts accordingly. Be an appropriate opposite, if possible, to his sadness and cheer him up. The last thing she wants is to make him feel worse, after all. Yet in all these exchanges, uncertainty continues to plague her mind and it's hard to let go of it.

The moment similar sentiments reach her ears, her mental processing goes haywire. Holding her breath feels like second nature to his hold on her. Everything he says could be as comparable to all the romantic French films she's watched—except not really, but it does because it's him saying it. As her throat constricts and the fire in her chest smoke up her brain, she feels the relief of tears spill down her cheeks. She rests her forehead on his shoulder as more seem to pour out. Vivi nods for all she's worth, nods in place of more coherent words, as she holds onto his shirt in desperate attempt to keep herself back on earth. "I only ever want you, Carter." It comes out less than ideal, but better than she hoped—voice only as loud as she can while still keeping it coherent, that is, very much his ears only. "I love you." She whispers.

CT: the tension in her body reaches him and a flurry of thoughts run through his mind— or so he thinks. truthfully, his mind goes blank the moment he sees tears on her face and it sends him into a panic of his own. crying. she's crying and he can't even see her face to gauge what's going on. happy tears are a thing, right? he's heard of that? seen them in those films that vivi seems to like and, though he doesn't focus as much as she does, he swears this is one of those moments when it's most likely. the desperate grip on his shirt convinces him that she wants him there so this must be a good thing. it must be. how can the idea of them be anything but good? when he looks at vivi, he firmly believes she is everything that is good about him. he is his own person, of course he is, and so is she but he's better with her, because of her presence in his life.

arms wrapping around her, hesitant to 'entrap' her by doing so, he allows himself to believe that she would've moved away if this was rejection, that she's leaning on him because it isn't one. "fuck, baby. you scared me." he chuckles breathlessly, swallowing thickly as he tightens his hold of her, leaning over her and nuzzling her neck, lips brushing over her skin as he lifts her up, guides her legs to wrap around his waist so he can take a seat on the bed and just hold her. hands moving to take her face in his hands, he wipes at the tears he finds, a bashful smile on his lips as his heart continues racing. "hey, come on now baby girl. no crying." littering her face with soft kisses, he leans in closer so he can whisper back into her ear, "i love you too." arms wrap around her again and he presses her firmly against him, burying his face in her neck. "i don't deserve you but i love you. only you. it's always been you."

VI: Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, this isn't the first time she's cried in front of him. It isn't embarrassing to her as much as how confused she is for crying at all. Then again, she supposes she always cries during these scenes in films. It's so obvious how much love the characters have for each other and it's such a relief to finally see them acknowledging to one another. Vivi barely notices her smile at that, how she really starts envisioning them in third perspective, and how happy she is that it's happening, finally happening. She can't even begin to think of when and how it all started. "I didn't mean to." Pressing the heel of her palm over her eyes, it's a basic attempt at her stopping. But her voice is not croaking anymore, though her breathing continues to hitch.

Vivi feels like she's upside down, even as something leaps in her stomach whenever she's picked up. She truly wouldn't last a second on a roller coaster. Holding him even tighter, now at his shoulders, she soothes to the voice that guides her. Trying to nod in response is much harder with all the kisses, and she thinks that's not a bad issue to have. "I won't, I'm just happy." Her giggling, filling an otherwise empty room, and tear-stained cheeks, make her gasp to the reciprocation contrast harder. "How could you say that?" 'It's you I don't deserve.' Now she's a little frustrated that he can't see her pleading eyes, whining at his words and relaxing in his embrace. "Then don't feel bad." She stares into the big circle mirror in front of her, not quite seeing her full face but knowing she probably doesn't look all that great—hair drawn messily over her face and puffy eyes. "Just stay with me."

CT: "i know you didn't," he chuckles, the corners of his eyes softening as he holds her closer. even crying, it's hard not to think that she's so cute like this. she's cute all the time and it's a wonder how he lasted this long without saying anything, without being too weak to resist til now. the giggling brings his own spirits up so quickly he could get whiplash. it'd be too simple to think that he's the one in charge, that he determines everything, when she has him so easily wrapped around her fingers if she tries. she has him.

when her body relaxes against his, he feels his own losing tension, wanting to melt into her and around her. he wants his entire existence to be consumed by hers right now, to only see and feel her. touch her, kiss her, claim her, but that's something entirely different from this. "i don't feel bad about it. i used to, but not right now." laying back on the bed, keeping her slightly more upright so he can finally see her face again, arms extended so he can guide her to lean over him, fingers weaving into her hair at the nape of her neck and bringing her closer yet. "i say it in that i want to be better to deserve you. i'll work hard to do that so . . . have faith in me even when it gets bad. can you do that? i'll stay by your side as long as you want if you can do that."

VI: Joy radiates off her entire being. There are words Carter keeps saying that dim parts of it, though perhaps it's more the way he says them. It sounds like he's in guilt, in repression, and there's certainly more to that story than he'll probably never tell her. Does she want to know why? Isolated, however, the words don't sound all that bad. As if now that they've started sharing their feelings that it could get easier. Maybe. Hopefully. Nonetheless, her eyes remain downturned as they see each other again, and she lets herself fall—helplessly so. That bit made a home for itself over the years. Vivi won't spend too much time on the semantics of it, at least not now, not when she's being held so closely and with such care by the one she's always wanted, the one she'll always want.

For as long as Carter speaks, a request she thinks might hold more implications than she knows, she almost stops breathing, stops blinking, and stops thinking all together. A beat passes before she makes a sound, something of agreement. Among all the scenarios she's played in her head, one where Carter doesn't deserve her has never existed. But if he says so, if that's the reality of the situation, there's no way she can't accept it. She's thought of worse things. "I wouldn't say it, say that I want you and I love you if I couldn't." As soft and small her tone stays, it cracks every time she tries to speak louder. She brings her head up slowly, meeting his eyes and feeling the start of another cry, as she caresses his face. "I trust you, Carter. Strongly and wholeheartedly."

CT: the crack of her voice makes him feel weak, self-restraint dwindling, and his mind overwhelmed. moments like this remind him of how small she is, how fragile things could become between them if he isn't careful— in the sense that he thinks his darkness could consume her if he let it, that even her light can't win over what dwells inside him at times. when he first started, the bloodlust seemed uncontrollable. suffocating. he was suffocating whenever he wasn't out there, emotions dulled, his limbs going numb. he just wanted to feel something. vivi brought that back to him the more they got involved, but she was so young, too young for him to rely on her and not feel guilt as the beta, as the one meant to have everything under control.

now, he realizes he might rely on her too much, in ways she isn't even aware of. her smile alone lightens his mood, takes some weight off his shoulders, gives him a reason to feel outside of his own darkness and self-imposed burdens. "mm, i know you trust me," swiftly, he turns them over, hair splaying behind her in a manner he's so fond of when he hovers over her on the bed, hand trailing over her hip up to her waist. "has it always felt this good to hear it?" grinning, he takes one of her hands, resting it against his chest, just over his heart, hand clasped over hers. rather than claiming her, he wants her to know. "then this is all yours."

VI: Vivi focuses on her breathing now — feeling lightheaded at the very constraint that they're not finished. Whatever more is there to say, or do? Now that she's said all she's got to say, it feels like both a weight lifted and a weight redistributed. The familiar days, nights, and everything in between would surely be different. But she doesn't know what she'd even be allowed to do while others are around. And as if that thought alone were a catalyst, she spirals through other habits she has with him — would she have to feel bad for taking him to the fairy king forest now? Or would it be the opposite? Taking her out of her reverie, if only temporarily, her heart rate picks up. Between the action itself and the implications such a position holds — one she'll automatically respond to, like that of when he came and hugged her silently. Oh to be the one he goes to for comfort. She practically gives herself goosebumps over it. Her mind's still clouded, there's no doubt about it, but she's quick to reciprocate the grin. "Hear what? That I trust you?" Her gaze follows her hand, quickly awash with deep pink hues, and swallowing tightly. Vivi curls her hand into his shirt, lips slightly ajar, her eyes refuse to look away; speechless to a fault.

CT: he means any of it, all of it. it feels good to hear everything but that might also be because of how much he likes her voice. so often he implies he likes hearing her in the most wanton of manners, sinful gasps and pants, lusty moans, but it just happens to include that. her rambling, the shy pauses, the whines, when she happens to sing along or out of nowhere, but especially when she tells him things only the two of them know, it feels good. knowing he's special to her, that is what feels particularly wonderful.

when he said good night to her once they settled in and down for the night, he wakes up with the expectation that hearing 'good morning' feels just as awe-inspiring, as heartwarming as it is to watch her sleep for now, rubbing the sleep slowly away from his eyes as he yawns. normally, duty pulls him away earlier than this but after those three words from her, he can't bring himself to leave just yet.

#( ended )

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shawnmend-yes · 7 years

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Relapse (Bittersweet part 1)

You get to the party late and under strict instructions to protect Becky from drunk Josh, you’re apprehensive to say the least because you always seem to end up alone at these parties, wishing you could crawl into a hole and die but your hopeful that tonight could be different.

It’s not long before India leaves you to go and ‘chat’ to the guy she’s been talking to for the past few weeks, and you know you’re not going to see her for the rest of the night. Luckily for you, becky spots you and drags you over to talk to the people you haven’t seen in years, not since you moved schools.

Everyone’s already kinda drunk so you feel slightly more relaxed knowing that most of them are incapable of overthinking how awkward your about to be, “Alright?” you murmur fiddling with the cuffs of your sleeve.

They barely have time to respond before you hear a shout from across field “BAILEY? Is that you?” you can barely contain your laughter as you watch ellie, who is hosting the party, attempt to run towards you with a giant cast over her leg, deciding to be a good person you jog over to meet her half way crashing into a hug that results in you holding her up.

You spend a couple of minutes catching up with her before you spot Becky sat on the floor with josh, who appears to be trying to make out with her knee while she tries to push his head off. You exchange glances with ellie before heading over to the pair on the floor calling out, “Beccs, come on a walk?”

You wait for her to push herself up and begin walking as she loops her arm through your, “What the hell was that?” you ask incredulously.

“I told you, he’s weird when he’s drunk” she titters pulling you sideways, “oh…Shawn!” she calls causing him to look up and wave from the group of people he was with. “Let’s go say hi!”

You didn’t have to walk far because it turns out shawn had the exact same idea, crossing the garden to talk to the two of you. You stand awkwardly to the side as they hug and exchange quick small talk, eyes flitting over him and taking in his new appearance, he looks so different from the 3 years ago when you saw him practically everyday, because that’s what best friends do right?

You check for the same cheeky grin and scruffy hair, but this time its accompanied by arm muscles that definitely weren’t there before. “And you… i havent seen you in ages!” he says, pulling your eyes back to his as you go in for a handshake, but he startles you wrapping his arms around you and squeezing. Your eyes pop and you catch sight of Becky out of the corner of your eye trying to stuff her fist in her mouth to prevent herself from laughing.

“Long time no see” you wheeze out as he steps back and you draw in a deep breath rubbing the edge of your ribcage casually.

Other people come and join the three of you and you decide that socializing is far too draining to do standing up so you sit down on the floor, the others following suit quickly. General conversations flit around between people and you’re happy just sat observing when Alfie reaches the group. “Becky, i need to tell you something”

She brushes her legs of standing and nudges you with her toe, “Back in a sec, bails”. You just nod at her and watch her walk away with him. A few moments shawn slides closer to you, taking it upon himself to involve you in the conversation and soon the whole group is chatting about one thing.

People come and go, as the sky darkens and Becky still hasn’t come back from her ‘deep meaningful conversation’ with Alfie, but your not worried because your with Shawn. It’s so easy to settle back into old patterns with him, playing and joking around as if it hasn’t been 2 years since you had drifted apart.

Soon the only thing illuminating the sky is the large bonfire at the end of the garden, and your tempted to go and sit beside it due to the cold. The drinks keep flowing and soon they start to get the better of people honesty coming in ways you didn’t expect.

“I wish we could go back to year 8” Shawn blurts, turning to face you, drawing the group’s attention, you nod along thinking that its just a general statement before he continues. “Not all these people…no offense” he mutters gesturing to the rest of the group. “Just us.”

“You’re drunk shawn” you laugh awkwardly at him, not entirely sure where this swift turn is headed.

“I mean it, i don’t know what i would have done without you, i wish we could be like that again” he says and your lips part as you rack your brain for a suitable response. “I know you think im only saying this cause im drunk but im not. I promise, in fact im more honest when im drunk”

The boy next to him, who happens to be one of his best friends decided to pipe up, “S’true, he’s told me this stuff before. He genuinely means it.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now” you mutter patting his arm, “Maybe not when your drunk.”

“No” he insists, “Just listen, i miss talking to you so much, i remember i used to sit outside my room charging my phone so that i could talk to you all night” and you remember doing things like that too, pressing your back against the wall and texting him as quickly as your thumbs would allow and it was almost as if he was what was supporting you, not the wall. “I dont know who i would be without you, you gave me confidence and your the first person i’ve ever connected with, i wouldn’t be the person who i am today without you.”

You go to interrupt him but he just talks louder over you, words spilling from his mouth, tumbling over and over each other, but you know your never going to forget them, or the way they make you feel.

“You’re the person who made me think about anything, talking to you made me think deeper, especially about love. I wish i had tried harder to stop us drifting apart and if all the other boys would just shut up and give you chance they would realise what a cool girl you are.”

You’re gobsmacked that he’s rambling and all you really want to do is hug him, so you squeeze his arm gently and whisper “I miss you too. So so much.”

You can see becky walking towards you and expect that your time with Shawn will be over shortly, and he will forget about this in the morning, especially as Becky is in the spot of Shawn’s life that you were two years ago.

“I love it when you randomly message me about stupid things like problems because i know you trust me. I trust you too, more than anyone ive ever met.” At this point Becky is stood almost directly in front of you but shawn doesn’t seem to notice. “I miss talking to you all the time, you are and always will be the closest friend ive ever had. No one comes close.” You catch Becky’s eye and you know she heard him, a part of you feels terrible but the larger part of you is so overwhelmed by the thought of getting your best friend back that you dont realise the entire group of people you are with are glancing between you , Becky and Shawn.

You half expect Becky to throw something but she doesnt, instead she forces herself into the space between you telling you to “budge over” so she can sit with her two best friends. Your awkwardly shuffling over as far as you can without climbing into the guy next doors lap when shawn speaks again, sounding somewhat confused. “But im talking to Bailey?”

Your jaw practically drops off with shock and you shrug at her when she turns to glare at you, “Your drunk” she states, plopping herself down.

You barely notice when Shawn and his friend leave the group, your mind still reeling as you try to process all your emotions, it’s as if every feeling you have ever felt for him is rushing back to you, you cant help but wonder if it is possible to rekindle the friendship and you resolve to text him tomorrow.

One by one people head off to dance or mingle but you and bella stay put as she fills you in one the details of her chat with Alfie, recounting it sentence by sentence while you produce generic responses, hoping Shawn is coming back because you didn’t get to tell him how you felt, you didn’t want him to think it was all one sided, because it definitely wasn’t. All you wanted when you moved was to talk to him. To message him and be his best friend again. You would have given absolutely anything because he was home to you, everything you had ever wanted or needed, but he wasn’t yours anymore, he was Becky’s.

It’s not long before yet another boy comes and pulls becky off to ‘talk’ to her, and you shake your head, it was always like this at parties, she thought that they were just friends, but as soon as they get drunk there are misplaced kisses flying everywhere that Becky tries so hard to avoid. You wander around looking for India because you don’t feel like sitting alone in the dark.

“Bailey? That you?” You turn your head to the group of boys sat near the fire and quickly spot the one who called you over.

“Jacob?” you ask, squinting in the darkness, before he reaches for you, pulling you into a hug and spinning you round. You laugh breathlessly and start singing your signature song “You spin me right round… baby right round…”

The two of you had become friends during food tech class and formed a fast bond, you stopped him burning his cakes and he helped you out with DT projects. He had always been a cuddly person so you weren’t surprised when her slung his arm over your shoulder and rested his head on top of yours.

The two of you danced together abit before plopping on the floor chatting about all the things you had missed,you spotted shawn sat directly across from you and smiled quickly as he involved himself in the conversation easily. You decided that you would just wait with these guys until Becky was done and ready to leave, or until India came back to the world of the singletons.

Eventually it was just you and shawn again, but you weren’t sure how it had even happened, one moment you were talking to him and the next everyone else was gone. You nibbled on your lip debating whether or not now was a good time to talk about all the things he said earlier when he interrupted you.

Sit with me” he mumbles patting the space next to him, eyes bright as he searches blindly for yours in the darkness.

You laugh at him, head tilting upwards to catch his eye, because even sitting down he was so much taller than you. “I am sitting with you shawn.”

“No,” He mutters, brows furrowing in confusion as he looks at the spot next to him, “right here. Sit here. Closer to me.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks and you’re finally glad that it’s almost pitch black outside, you reach your hand out and brush over the grass in front of you. “Its prickly.” you giggle at him, feeling slightly drunk even though you hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

He swipes a large hand across the floor next to him. “S’not, it soft, softer than where you’re sat now.” You shake your head at him in amusement, “Bailey, sit here.” He pleads grabbing your hand in attempt to make you listen to him.

You glance down at his hand, wrapped around yours before relenting, “Fine.” you whisper scooting over to him, taking in his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, you settle yourself comfortably on the grass, “Alright?”

“Better” he sighs, shifting slightly so your knee is resting on his thigh, “I miss this” he mumbles, struggling with to keep his words clear with the amount of alcohol coursing through his veins, the truth is you’ve never been drunk telling people it was because you like to remember what happens in your life, tonight is the first time you’ve meant it. Moments like these are the things dreams are made of. “Us being close,” he continues, “just like old times, like history” he continues, “Remember?”

“Of course i remember Shawn” you mumble, leaning into his side.

(Continued)

#oh my god I've hit maximum letters apparently #like what?#I'll have to make a continued #hold on #shawn mendes fic #Shawn Mendes series #Shawn Mendes #Shawn #Mendes #imagine #shawn mendes imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #bittersweet series

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harukatomoe · 7 years

Text

Star-crossed (Ango x Reader)

Star-crossed

To say what he saw was a new love, was an understatement. Sakaguchi Ango had no idea what to think; he couldn't put his feelings into words. It wasn't the appearance that lured his liking, no, rather it was the vibe he felt from you that sparked his great attraction. He wasn't in a close proximity of you, he was a safe distance where he could observe you soundlessly.

He wasn't proud of what he was doing, he was ashamed. At the same time, could he really blame himself? He was a busy man in the sin-filled world. Every now and then, blood would be shed on the streets of Yokohoma; he was one of the many to deal with ability users - using justice to put them away. He was a man who didn't have time for relationships or flings, nor was he confident enough to approach a woman.

He could only sigh ashamedly; he's seen other men flirt successfully with other women, that was something he felt he could never do. Never in his life. He was what you could say, more submissive than daring. The bittersweet scent of his coffee turning cold was the road he was heading at this point. He was going to get nowhere with you and he wasn't going to try.

Oh, how he could only admire from afar, the distance not getting any closer. The way you tucked loose strands of your (Hair Colour) locks behind your ear, it gave him a better view of your face. The way you looked at your book, full of interest, it intrigued him of your passionate interest in novels. Just everything you did made him look at your beautifully.

Ango snapped out of his melancholic daze when you stood up, the feet of the chair scraping against the stone cement as you picked up your belongings. He shifted in his seat, panicking because you were leaving. He didn't want you to leave, he wanted you to stay. What if he never sees you again? He didn't even get a chance to catch your name, possibly your number; he was never going to see you again.

The moment you stepped closer, just a step, Ango could feel his heart pounding in his throat. Suspense was shrinking up his spine, his palms became sweaty, his throat became dry. He listened to the sound of your heels clacking against the hard, cold ground, getting louder and louder by the second. His anticipation grew; was it excitement or anxiety?

He could smell that sweet scent of pure seduction - red plum and freesia clogging his nose. He could feel the very presence of you walking behind him. Every other sound around him was full and tune out, the only bright and audible thing he could hear was you.

Moments later, Ango watched your lovely figure merge with others, disappearing into the large crowd of people. Just for a moment, his whole body turned your way, almost as if he was going to make an attempt to chase after you. He found himself panting, a small jolt was given to his heart that sent it racing.

You were gone.

❣ Another day ❣

It must've been a coincidence.

No, it must've been luck.

No, it must've been a miracle.

Seeing you again was a miracle. He just so happened to be picking up a novel about historical events at his local library, after receiving it, he decided to go explore the shelves a little more. When he did, noticing the 'Social Studies' section. The moment he spun on his heel, that was the moment he froze, lovestruck.

You stood so beautifully, just having a look at you could make him melt. He could feel his knees shake, he could feel his heart lighten, his stomach fluttering with joy, his mind hazed, his breath hitch, his eyes shimmer. Without your little knowledge of his existence, a part of him wondered what would happen if you did notice him.

Ango then realized he was staring for too long. He shook his head and faced the spine of the books, "acting" natural to blend in with your surroundings. He stood a few glances here and there, observing you out of the corner of his eyes. Though, looking from our of the corner of his intrigued, lightly-coloured eyes, you were a bit of a vibrant blur since he couldn't lay his eyes on you through his prescribed bottle-cap glasses.

"Excuse me," a faint, soft voice spoke to him. Slowly, his jaw turned to the direction of where the sound came from. There was a slight moment his heart's beat was steady, his gaze not recognizing what it could see, unable to comprehend the figure standing before him. The fluorescent lights that hung to the ceiling glaring over his lenses, stopping you from staring directly into his eyes.

His heart's beat suddenly fastened itself, his chest gaze finally recognizing the person confronting him. His jaw dropped in absolute trauma. A cold sweat washed over him, his skin turning pale. His eyes widened more than he felt they could, every thought flew out of his mind, every intention, every dream washed away the very moment you spoke to him.

"Y-Yes...?" He breathed ever so lightly. He could feel his breath be taken away by the sight of you talking to him. He wondered to himself to why you were speaking to him. How could a person like you, talk to him out of the many around? What did you want? Had you noticed him before? Oh, how his mind filled with questions that could only be answered by you.

"...Have I seen you around somewhere before? I swear you look familiar." His whole body became covered in cold sweat, worries filled him up like no tomorrow. Your face held a lustreless look. But, oh, dear, he admired your facial features so much. Not only did you have the vibe he craved for in a partner, but you also had the lovely face of a beauty.

He couldn't read what you were feeling. Were you creeped out if you did notice him? Were you simply trying to defend yourself by confronting him about it? He couldn't tell.

"Pfft," your hand covered your mouth, attempting to stifle your laughter any further. Ango quickly found himself to be dumbfounded, his mind going blank. "What's with that look? You look a bit pale." You laughed, removing your hand. You held your hands together with a bright smile that he could use to admire you more. You extended an arm towards him, watching him flinch at your sudden gesture. "I'm (Last Name) (First Name), nice to meet you." You didn't see him as a threat, he seemed timid, but rather formal and friendly in a way.

"Saka...guchi Ango." He took your hand willingly, shaking it. A small and relieved smile crept its way onto his lips, which you had to admit was pretty nice. He had beautiful features; his hair that was swept neatly away from his face, his clear complexion, his eyes that seemed light-coloured, his circular glasses, and not to mention the mole that sat above his lip on the right side of his face. He was truly a breathtaking man.

"It's nice to meet you, Sakaguchi-kun!"

❣ A few days later ❣

He loved the way you laughed, even if it was at him. He loved the way your eyes closed as your grin was ever growing, the more you laughed, the bigger you smiled. He loved the way you were in tears after laughing so hard, he loved when you spoke that your stomach hurt, even if it was at him.

He liked your attention on him. It made him feel better about himself. He wouldn't think about him as such an interesting man, but you, oh, you made him feel different. It was only a few days after your first and actual meeting, and yet he already felt comfortable around you. You had a happy-go-lucky personality, you were friendly and easily-approachable. He liked that about you.

He found out that you enjoyed the same foods as him, especially eel. He found out that you were in the social studies section of the library to help you research more about human behaviour. He found out that you two had a lot in common. He felt special because you spent so much time with him, and he tried to spend as much time with you. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so giddy about a person; he's been so distracted by work that he lost track of time in his life.

But, that didn't matter anymore. You gave him back the time he had lost with reality. You gave him all the time he needed. You gave him your interest. That was more than enough for him.

❣ A few months later ❣

"(First Name)-san,"

Ango held out a small, rectangular box that was rather long. You turned to look over your shoulder, your breath steaming the air around in a puff. It was winter now, late in the afternoon and soon to be dark. Your cheeks felt a bit numb, your nose too, but that didn't stop you from going on a date with Ango. No, nothing could keep you from him.

"Ango-kun? What is this?" You asked, your eyes slightly wide by the pretty wrapped box. It was a dark blue box wrapped with a pretty lavender ribbon with a cute bow on top. You watched as Ango buried the lower half of his face into his scarf, somewhat hiding his face from you; it was undeniable that you couldn't see how his red his cheeks were, assuming they weren't from the cold though.

"Please, open it." He dropped the box into your mittened hands, waiting for you to continue. You brought the box to your face and bit one end of the ribbon with your teeth, pulling the silk bow apart. He reached over, grabbing the ribbon from your mouth for you as you whispered a quick "thank you". You shook the box from the lid, finding a extravagant silver necklace that had a silver heart as the charm.

"Oh, my...Ango, it's-it's-" you stuttered, unable to continue your reaction. He shook his head in his scarf, his face becoming buried even more in it. Your cheeks flared with appreciation and adoration, you gazed lovingly up at him even though his face was not staring at yours. You reached up and pulled his scarf down, revealing his beet red face.

You leaned forward, on your tip-toes as you closed your eyes, your lips gently pressing over his. You wrapped an arm around behind his head, pulling him deeper into your doings. You could hear his surprise, but he didn't pull away. Shortly, you pulled away, leaving a lip-tingling kiss on his lips.

"I assume this is a confession, no?" He nodded, his eyes squinted and directed elsewhere, lips pursed and being bitten as he seemed to want to taste your lips more. Oh, how adorable he seemed.

"Then I accept."

❣ A week later ❣

"I was supposed to kill you," It was worse than he expected. When he heard you say, "we need to talk", he knew that was never a good thing. He always expected the worse when you always had that certain glint of sorrow in your (Eye Colour) irises. He couldn't understand what you meant, he couldn't understand what you meant by your broad but, vague statement.

"What do you m-mean, (First Name)-"

"Exactly what I said...you see..." you pulled a note out of your pocket, unfolding the crumpled piece of paper. You bit your tongue, the sour taste that the content on the paper left in your mouth was disgusting. You squeezed the paper back into its previous form, shutting your eyes scared to show him. You felt his hand touch yours gingerly, but he pulled away the note with force.

Ango read the note carefully.

His heart dropped. He felt like all his senses had been raised, he was alert. He became a conflicted mess. The letter he held in his hands gave him both fear and anger. It was such a disgusting letter from the Port Mafia's boss to you.

"I was sent here to kill you, Ango..." you ashamedly shrunk into yourself, slightly turning away from him. You could already read the betrayal on his face, the disgust he felt in himself. If you had known all this time, why did you keep it from him? Why did you let him continue? Why didn't you just end him, wouldn't that have been easier on him than for him to continue loving you? Why were you so cruel to him?

What the note read was:

"Dear beloved (First Name)-kun,

I couldn't help, but to notice that you have yet to eliminate the traitor. Yes, I did have a talk with the director of the Japanese Ministry. But, the problem at hand is, he knows too much. (First Name)-kun, I'm sure you cherish your own life, do you not? Should I allow you to live, and for your existing members of your family to perish? Looks like I have to do what needs to be done.

But, wait. I've also noticed that you've begun to cherish something far more than yourself and your family. It's him, isn't it? Funny how you think you can trick your target into falling in love with you without yourself falling in love either. It's tragic, really.

I'll be waiting in my office for you to drop off proof. If not, you will be executed within fourty-eight hours.

Your boss, Mori Ougai"

"Was or is?" He asked.

"I am." Ango's hands gripped his hair as he turned his back to you, a deep and frustrated sigh blowing past his lips. He was obviously pissed off, but he was obviously trying to find a way to forgive you. I mean, he did forgive you. He just felt betrayed by his lover, at the same time he felt upset.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep talking to you or if he wanted to be alone. He didn't know if he should end things with you or keep it. He was torn between his life and yours.

"(First Name)-"

"Ango, please, I love you so much." He could already feel himself choking on his own words. Oh, how he felt so bad that he forced you to say that. Only, it wasn't forced. You were scared out of your mind. You didn't care about what was going to happen to you, you cared about loving him. You cared about your relationship with him. You cared about his safety over yours. That's what it meant to care about someone, right? Putting them before you?

Tears welled up inside of his eyes, pooling to the point they were threatening to fall. Dear god, if you knew how much he loved you, everything would be so much easier. His pain would lessen, his worries would not be worries. Little did he know, it was the same for you. If he saw the pleading in your eyes that you had for him, he would say something.

And he did. "I'll help you," he said, grabbing your shoulders. He was firm with his words. The seriousness in his eyes gave you intel about how he felt about you still. He was determined to help you leave; help you escape the wrath of the mafia. He knew how they worked. He knew their patterns. "Please, just please," he paused, grabbing ahold of your face that was damp with tears. He suddenly locked his lips with yours, holding you close to his body as if he would never see you again; never feel you again.

"Run away with me. Away from this dreaded nightmare."

❣ Years later ❣

You never showed up the next day. Not as planned. You stayed at his home that day years ago. It was the next morning he couldn't find you next to him. The empty space in his bed told otherwise. There were no signs of struggle or anything. So, where did you go?

Ango never knew what happened to you. You didn't pick up his calls. You didn't pick up his texts. It was as if you were wiped off the face of the earth. That day years ago, he cried and cried with great confusion. He hated not knowing where you were.

He picked up the clothes he had laying around his home, straining after a long day of work the day before. He twisted his head a bit, stretching the poor muscle that had become tightened and sore. Ango's ash-coloured optics landed on a box he had packed away in his living room with your name on it, unsure of where you went, he kept all your things in case one day you returned.

But, he had already expected the worse.

Suddenly, the doorbell that chimed in his home rang. Alarmed, he peered out of the peephole, seeing no one standing there. With a hand on the door and a hand on the handle, he twisted the knob and pulled the door open. He still saw nothing. He cocked a brow, ignoring it. Slowly, he pushed the door to close, his eye catching something at the last second.

It was a box.

One similar to the one he gave you years ago, as his confession. His chest clenched, his stomach became empty with concern. He bent down, picking up the box. Before anything else could happen, he slammed the door shut in front of him. He fumbled to open it.

Out fell the necklace he gifted to you.

As he leaned down to pick it up with trembling fingers, a note fell out as well.

"Dear Sakaguchi-kun,

I see you haven't changed much. Still waiting for her to come home? You should throw out her boxes.

She won't be coming home.

Yours truly, Mori Ougai"

End

Continuation:

There were two things that Sakaguchi Ango wanted. It was the freedom and safety from stress and for his lover to be safe by his side. Yet a man such as himself suffered the pain of losing his close friends in the past, he managed to get over it. But, how could he get over this? That note meant your death. He didn't listen. He should've known. He only had himself to blame. He only had everything to blame. He had cursed the stars above for allowing you two to meet. Allowing you two to meet was the fate between star-crossed lovers.

#ango sakaguchi #wattpad #unedited #one-shot #bungou stray dogs #angst #bsd

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daemurae · 7 years

Text

sweetly unintended, blissfully unaware

Word count: 1684 Pairing: Cullen x Lavellan Rating: K Summary: Just a brief few moments of peace and calmness after the storm between our dearest lion and his Lavellan - before the kiss, before the confession, back when they were just completely oblivious to each other's emotions and utterly falling in love against their own struggling better judgement - luckily though, it doesn't do much to stop them. Notes: Slow burn, pre-confession/relationship fics are my huge weakness, especially when it’s about these two puppies falling in love. Also, this was written in midst of an exam frenzy so sorry if it’s a bit rambly at some parts. ♡

you can also read it here ♡

The sun was warm and burning bronze against the horizon when they walked out on the battlements, the colors bathing the walls so rich and inviting, it almost made the cold mountain air prick slightly less sharply against their skin. It has been mere days since the events at the Winter Palace and the atmosphere everywhere around them was sharp, excited and bathed in anxious anticipation – it felt good to have something feel more serene, at least for a few moments, before the sun sets down and everything turns as dark, cold and frightening as the recent events.

For a moment, the young man stopped and turned to stare at the setting sun, perhaps to savor the moment it was creating, and the elf slowly came to a halt as well, joining him as she leaned her arms, crossed against the harsh stone, her small frame somewhat relaxed for the first time today. The commander though, had his arms crossed behind his back and his posture rigid and tense, his expression not as at peace one might expect from someone admiring this view. The Inquisitor studied his face with worried eyes. He was often the pillar that held this entire organisation, its meetings and events calm, focused and strong. But there wasn't really anyone who kept him strong. She felt an incredible urge to gently place her hands on his cheeks, to smooth out all that worry and sadness and replace it with the peace and happiness, like moulding clay. However, that was neither possible, nor was such gesture appropriate, so she kept where she was, returning her gaze to the horizon.

„I never thanked you...“, he suddenly spoke out quietly and Lavellan raised her eyebrows in a confused manner. He noticed and offered a small, albeit still troubled smile.

„For your advice a few days ago.“

Because the events in Orlais weren't the only thing that transpired a few days ago. Immediately after that evening, Cullen reached yet another difficult decision, one in which Lavellan aided him in a way she thought was best. But seeing his features even more tired and anguished than usual lately, it made her doubt whether it truly was the best choice to support. The worry in her eyes deepened as she tilted her head and observed him carefully.

„Cullen, are you alright?“, her tone was quiet and gentle, matching his own. He tried his best to put more enthusiasm in his smile, but it didn't quite work.

„I will be.“

Her eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting for a moment but her words stayed stuck firmly in her throat, because she knew, deep within herself, that, in the long run, this was the best for Cullen, this should make him feel better, healthier, in the long run. Her jaw clenched nervously as she suddenly dropped her gaze. It should make him feel better – if it doesn't kill or ruin him in the process.

He must have noticed the subtle mixture of fear and doubt his reply planted in her so he quickly added, „It was the right thing to do, I know it. Don't feel bad for helping me see that...“

Lavellan just nodded, still looking down. „How are your dreams? Do you sleep well?“

Cullen sighed, averting his own gaze downward as well. „Not any better, yet. I make by. I function. I'm not a liability to our cause,“ his words were now more stern, almost rehearsed.

Lavellan quickly raised her brows, hastily placing a hand on his shoulder.

„No, I didn't mean that-... I mean, I…“, it seemed as it was just now that both she and Cullen noticed her palm on his armor and she pulled it back in an instant, awkward movement, briefly eyeing her palm as though she just burned it on an open flame, before planting it firmly beside her body – something about that gesture seemed more sudden and cold than she intended and Cullen reprimanded himself in his mind for the way it seemed to have stung him right back.

„I want you to feel better because of yourself, not me or the Inquisition,“ she finally finished.

Cullen's expression softened once more, „I will, it just takes… time.“

Lavellan sighed, leaning her arms back on the stone surface in front of her as they stayed silent for a few moments while the sky began turning its colors to a set of darker orange hues. Sera and Dorian were having a mock duel with a pair of steel practice swords bellow, Sera's warm, high pitched laughter piercing the quiet and bringing a gentle smile on Lavellan's face as she watched them.

Cullen chuckled quietly in a low, soft rumble, that made the girl's smile widen even more. „I admire them so much for being able to be so carefree in the midst of all of this...“

Seeing him smile as well, especially under the strong lights of the sunset in front of them, made him appear so much younger and innocent, probably similar to how that curly haired templar boy looked like more than ten year ago when he first started serving at the Fereldan Circle, before everything in his life descended to madness that turned him into the troubled, wounded man that he was now. Lavellan cherished those very, very rare moments like these, when he seemed younger and happier again, his smile almost mischievously crooked and his eyes cheery, liquid gold and glistening.

„If you want, you can teach me how to sword fight as well, guarantee that it'll make you laugh for days, only I don't take any responsibility for the eyes, noses or other minor body parts of passerbys that I end up poking out on accident in the process.“

He let out a chuckle again, this time louder and more vivid, making her grin brightly.

„How about trying to teach you some bow and arrow skills in return? If we aim you in a good enough of a direction, there's a significantly lesser chance of poking anyone's facial features using that particular weapon.“

Lavellan's jaw dropped as she feigned shock and offence, „You underestimate me, Sir!“, and then they both laughed.

Without realizing it, Cullen made a step closer to Lavellan as he turned to face her and lean on the battlements wall.

„I like this,“ his smile finally radiated a more sincere, relaxed light and it rose color in Lavellan's cheeks and caused her heartbeat to gently grow more rapid, „Moments like these. Brief as they are. Makes me feel like we are all still people through it all. Not soldiers, not politicians, not chess pieces, but people“, his attention drifted back to the friendly 'duel' below, now with Iron Bull sitting besides them and howling roaring cheers – those for Dorian being ever so slightly louder. Bull probably failed to notice this little fact, just as Cullen failed to notice that, upon viewing the rosy hue on Lavellan's cheeks, his own face felt warmer than a moment before.

„We are just ordinary people. The pain and fear that come with all of this only reaffirm that. There's something bittersweet about that, actually,“ Lavellan moved her attention to the anchor on her palm and clenched into a soft fist a few times, „The day we turn cold and unresponsive is the day we'll truly be ruined.“

Cullen's own palms lifted up in front of him as he judged their shaky shapes with inescapable discontent and sorrow. „That's a very positive way of seeing it. I'm....“ he took a deep breath and clenched his own fists, although he did it with less patience and tenderness, and it did not help their shivering one bit, „ …not quite as able of seeing it that way.“

Tentatively, nervous and shaky in her own way, Lavellan's palms gripped the young commander's and pressed them together. Which in turn did not help her racing heartbeat one bit, though she could hardly care less right now.

She smiled, „To tell you the truth? Me neither. But I'm getting there.“

Their fingers tangled together in a forbidden embrace and, by the Maker, Cullen never wanted her to let go. But he knew he wasn't allowed to feel that way and she wasn't expected or advised to reciprocate in any way. Though this never stopped him before to marvel at the beauty of the shape of her eyes, of the way her smallest touch sometimes sent electricity up his spine, of the way he admired her wisdom, her humor, her voice, her company and her grace more than of any other person he met before. How it always took him a moment too long before stopping himself from imagining that, if their lips met for just a few seconds, she could heal every little wound, bad memory and fear inside of him like a soothing, consuming flame of sweet remedy.

He let out a breath and lifted up her palms until they touched his lips. He was forbidden anything more, but she didn't flinch away and he allowed them to linger there for a few seconds before letting her go and turning back to his previous firm stance, his face once again troubled, though Lavellan would never guess it was, in this moment, for a different reason.

She held her arms close to her chest for a moment, perhaps she wanted to keep the warm, bright sensation from before for just a while longer, wanting desperately to store it in her heart permanently, because she felt there probably won't be another moment like this. In her case, as in his, she felt her devotion would never be reciprocated, nor was it proper, nor was she what he deserved. And the Inquisitor should most definitely refrain from making herself appear as a stumbling, blushing child with an unreturned crush in front of her commander.

No, it wasn't possible, or wise. And yet they both remained close to one another until the sun set. Simply standing together in silence. After that, they made their courteous, formal goodbyes, as colleagues should, and they each went their separate way.

#dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #cullen rutherford #cullen x inquisitor #cullen x lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #dragon age fic #mateja writes

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homalfaut · 6 years

Text

Dream recount 8/20/18

I was walking down a street after hanging with Marc.

It’s a main street,

very similar to Broad Street…

But not Broad Street.

Judging by the height of the sun

I wanna say it’s about 3 o’clock,

prime busy time.

A dark skin man whose health is seeming to come closer to it’s expiration date with each rotation of the sun approaches us.

The wrinkles on his skin read about a mid 40 with his height being barely over 5 ft.

His smile is very warm and welcoming,

in an off-putting way due to his sun orange teeth (which he seems to be missing 5 of).

We had a short ,dry conversation that seemed to blend in with the rest of the noises in the background.

Roaring car engines,

Unruly teenagers,

entitled college students,

this conversation blends in with it all,

but feels different.

Only when you’re part of it. At least.

I don’t remember what was discussed or any details of the conversation.

Just that he approached me the way you’d expect a homeless person to approach you before telling their rehearsed sob story.

But upon opening his mouth I realized he knew something about the universe that I didn’t.

A secret.

And that the person he was looking around for… Was me.

There is one part of the conversation that never escaped my memory though.

He told me, “I’ll be seeing you again”, through very promising eyes.

And that’s where it began.

Time-lapse

I’m at the restaurant I work at.

The place looks somewhat similar to my actual job but it’s more fancy and polished.

Bundles of people with a gay air about them are steadily streaming in and out of the restaurant.

It wasn’t overflowing but it wasn’t empty.

My coworkers seem to be very fond of me, managers included.

This day at work feels very bright and upbeat.

Maybe my mood has too turned merry, possibly in correlation with the incoming customers.

My coworkers are around discussing what they are going to be doing once work has ended.

Drinking,

Smoking,

Hanging out at a bar, conventional late night past times.

But what do they accomplish through this other than temporary happiness?

The high goes away,

The drunk goes away and 95% of the conversations won’t even be remembered.

They all involve hours of small talk, just to have an animated conversation that won’t make it

past the setting of the moon.

Not that I don’t enjoy these pleasures as well… I just get very reclusive sometimes so I tend to avoid them.

I don’t contribute much to the conversation, I never do, but I know that there’s a lovely lady I am to be expecting after.

That’s my pleasurable vice,

women that look like they could kill me.

I catch myself daydreaming about her.

She’s the sister of a friend.

I can’t seem to recall if he’s a close friend…

Or any other details about him.

But the thoughts were never about him anyway, they were about her.

She was very attractive,very unorthodox features.

Naturally silver, almost crystal, sparkling hair

Eyes a shade of blue that seemed to not exist before she did.

Skin almost pale enough for her to be translucent,

She just seemed to be unre-

“Everything okay Bernard? You’ve been just standing there for a couple minutes now.” my manager chimes

“Yeah, I’m fine, just had something on my mind.”

“Oh, well the night’s dying down, so you’re good to go for the night.”

“Gotcha, thank you!”

I had never been more elated upon clocking out in my entire experience working here.

Usually it’s kinda bittersweet, my coworkers are very wholesome people and every second around them just feels refreshing.

But today I had a more uplifting experience ahead of me. Or so I thought.

Time-lapse

I’m hanging out with the girl and her brother at… I actually don’t know where we are.

Me and her are laying down with each other on the dark-beige carpet with a blanket over top of us.

Our bodies in some oddly perfect unison with each other, like the sun and the moon in constant orbit.

She devours my attention making me void of the world around me.

Nobody but us exists in this moment…and her brother who could intervene at any second.

I have this recurring problem of never letting myself fall into any moment when there’s any possibility of an external force breaching it.

But I told myself I should feel more free than that, that nobody can take you out of your moments except yourself.

I don’t know how much time we’ve already spent together by this point in time or how long we’ve even known each other for

But I can tell the answer to both of those questions isn’t as long as it should be before you get as intimate as we were without one force being scared of the other.

But the moment was perfect, it felt like we’d already known each other for a lifetime,

Like we’ve had conversations that had preceded the existence of any living creature,

Almost as if our sole existence in this fabricated universe was for each other.

Something like… Destiny.

As perfect as it was though i can’t seem to remember a single word shared between us.

I just remember at some point our conversation was replace with a fragile embrace from her lips to mine.

Make note it was her lips to mine.

More fragile kisses were shared between our glass lips knowing very well one of us could break in this moment.

Soon her fingers begin to cascade down my chest to my stomach

they reach my waist and suddenly i hear her brothers footsteps.

She remains unflinching and the only response i can manage is “Are you okay with this?”

Referring not to me being with his sister but to me having this moment almost in front of his very eyes.

He gives permission and expresses no discontent with the affair happening before his eyes then proceeds back up an adjacent staircase.

Yet another thing that struck me as weird during this whole experience.

Everything happened between us seemed to be a blur except one part

We never reached the point of having sex, but some form of pleasure happened that night.

I’ve always been more in love with the girls I never ended up having sex with than the ones I did.

Maybe because I felt more obliged to chase them,

Maybe because the lack of sexual intimacy was filled up with other forms of intimacy that couldn’t be replicated,

Maybe because we were more compatible romantically than we were sexually,

I’ll never know so I don’t ponder on it.

We went back to kisses that were less fragile this time for we have long lost the fear of breaking.

She invited me to her house in hopes of us seeing each other again.

I was more than reluctant to meet her again, but I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that grew within in me as soon as I agreed.

Time-lapse

I’m at my house

It’s the type of place you’d see in the Jetsons

The building itself is beyond the height of a skyscraper,but my room is a very big bubble room

It’s doesn’t have any futuristic characteristics like the Jetsons but has a metallic baby blue color to it.

Kinda like the one you’d see in a sci-fi film.

There’s a huge window opposite of my bed,

It’s wide enough to look like a movie projector screen you’d see in a movie theater.

Another weird factor to mention is that I don’t remember the view from the window, if it was the sky or if it was a cityscape, or even worse,

If it was nothing.

Some subtle aspects of feng-shui are present.

Usually hang outs are held at my place, but you can tell why.

I’m with another girl.

Her features are more normal and demonstrate that she’s made from the earth in its purest form.

Her skin a dark shade of brown that is also reflected in her eyes as if both were summoned from the very core of the earth herself.

Soft dark curly hair gently caresses her face,

She exists as if every beautiful part of nature came together to create one person.

I can’t remember any dialogue shared between me and her but knew we were both there for an affair.

I had felt a safer and realer feeling with this girl than the other one but couldn’t bring myself to get into her

It’s that feeling of being attracted to something that you know isn’t good for you.

You feel like it would make your life more interesting as opposed to something that will probably help you out more in the long run.

I don’t remember what occurred between me and her during our time together other than an obscure conversation that consisted of me dodging our true purpose for being there.

But nothing pertaining to a sexual experience happened here.

Time-lapse

I arrive at her place

Correction: I’m in her place

I have no recollection of how I got there or even entering i just know I’m in there.

The only people that reside here are her, her Dad and her brother.

The house itself produces a very strange aura.

The best way to describe how i felt here was like how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit-hole into Wonderland

Very lost, confused, slightly terrified…

and surreal.

For some reason the house felt small and continuously shrinking yet i seem to fit perfectly within the house at all times.

We started talking, but it felt as if she were trying to lure me into her.

As if her sole existence in my life was to be some kind of lure into an ingenious trap of the universe.

The unison wasn’t there any more. it was more like i was the ocean

Flowing, naturally

And she’s the moon

Pulling me to flow harder but almost towards her in a way that I couldn’t resist.

Then she started changing.

And i don’t mean the type of changing like when you’re dating someone for a long time and over time they start becoming comfortable and changing,

I mean her entire physical appearance was morphing before my very eyes in a matter of seconds.

her eyes started becoming black lines spiraling around their sockets,

Wrinkles cascaded the surface of her face on all ends,

Her almost transparent skin glowed and became suddenly translucent,

her jaw dropped long enough that you could fit a soccer ball in her mouth,

And there were no teeth or tongue that belonged to her mouth either but now it was an endless black abyss.

You could easily sink in there and not come back. Ever.

I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what was happening to me too.

As this transformation is happening she is saying something… Something that no matter how hard i try to recall my brain just refuses to do it.

As if i’m better off just never truly remembering what she said.

Maybe I am.

Suddenly two guys in beige suits with white button up shirts underneath and black ties come in and pull me out of the room.

They’re faces were ridden with distress and urgency, as if they had feared for my life more than i had.

I was still in shock and my face could only manage a blank facial expression

Time-lapse

I’m in the office with the guys.

A couple days have passed since the incident but I still haven’t fully let it sink in.

My eyes are weary and droopy, you can tell i haven’t had any proper sleep (if any at all) since the incident.

Me and the men are discussing the scenario from start to finish, and every detail of every second from top to bottom.

I remembered what she said at that moment and told them what she said.

We were able to decipher that she wasn’t a creature of our society, we didn’t know what she was or what she would’ve done with me but we all knew it wouldn’t have been good for me to stay in that situation.

I was easily able to decipher what she was saying and the meaning behind it but i told the men that i had to withdraw from the investigation.

I already felt as if I was a huge target and that wouldn’t be my last encounter with her or her species.

Continuing in this investigation would only increase my name being in some type of spotlight and their chances of coming into contact with me again.

Time-lapse

Me and Marc are at the nearby mall.

Marc has yet another “fool-proof” plan about how we can shoplift a couple of things we don’t really need without the mall security guard noticing.

Malls in this world aren’t like malls in the real world.

They’re in the similar shape as my room which makes them feel slightly futuristic in a sense.

Stores are spread out side by side in one giant culdesac formation.

Also, You kinda just get your stuff from the individual stores but it’s not like the individual stores have security or anything at the front.

There’s only one entrance to the whole mall so you can only walk in that way and walk out that way.

We gathered up the stuff from the stores we wanted and then we’re heading out hoping the security guard doesn’t investigate us, because ya know, sometimes they don’t apparently.

Our hopes were wrong.

He questions us about the things we have but in this society you don’t necessarily get arrested for attempting to shoplift, you just kinda look like an idiot.

As he’s rummaging through the stuff he also tells us to beware of this guy.

He fits the description of the exact man from the beginning of the dream.

Suddenly i turn around and the man says “Glad to see you again.”

Then I woke up.

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