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spider-stark · 6 months

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INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this…

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her.

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.

And it still made you angry.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”

Understand.

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.

You weren’t used to this.

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…

This was different, somehow.

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.

But Peter wasn’t like other people.

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.

You knew better than to think he meant it.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.

You were good at expressing anger, though.

You were very good at expressing anger.

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.

“I will,” you promised.

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.

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a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

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murdrdocs · 9 months

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ENJOY THE SILENCE. sejanus plinth

description. being tasked with placating sejanus plinth by doctor gaul seems like an impossible feat. turns out all it takes to be successful was revealing your true feelings.

includes. SMUT 18+, dialogue heavy, slightly manipulative!reader, capitol!reader, oral (m receiving), snowballing, sejanus typical angst. title from enjoy the silence by depeche mode

wc: 6.4k+

By the time your fist meets the thick wood of Sejanus Plinth’s bedroom door, you’ve started to lose your way.

Somewhere along the line of you walking from the Academy to the Plinth residence, entering the home by invitation of Ma Plinth, eating her sweets while listening to the woman speak about how worried she was about her son, and finally walking down the hall to his bedroom, you’ve almost forgotten why you’re here in the first place.

But forgetting would be too good to be true. How could you forget about how you were summoned into an empty classroom by Doctor Gaul, staring into her unnerving eyes as she praised you for what you could be, and barely what you are now?

At the time, you instantly wanted to protest the task of going to the Plinth residence to seek out a certain outspoken boy who didn’t realize his privilege. But one glare from over her nose put you in your place, and you begrudgingly left the Academy to come here.

It’s not that you disliked Sejanus. You felt the opposite, mostly. You were definitely not one of the other Academy students who preferred to make his life hell since you all were eight. But there wasn’t much you had in common with the boy, no mutual connections that pulled you in each other’s orbit save for a few shared classes and a handful of projects.

It was natural for you to question Gaul on why you had to be the one to do it. And as if it was natural, too, she shrugged, examined the walls of the Academy, and told you, “You have the potential to do something great. Prove yourself to me and surely I can find a guaranteed spot for you at the University.”

It barely made any sense to you—how getting Sejanus Plinth to stop speaking his mind could prove your potential to be a great student at the University. But you were desperate, your future so close and within reach. You didn’t want to jeopardize it before it began.

So as soon as classes ended, you grabbed your things, called off the driver, and walked to the Plinth residence where you hoped to prevent Sejanus Plinth from becoming a problem.

Your three knocks against the door taper off to silence, which makes the shuffling on the other side even more prominent. Sejanus doesn’t ask who it is, likely assuming the visitor to be his mother or father, and not one of his classmates who was only an acquaintance. He yells out an invitation to enter and you push the handle down, allowing the door to swing open before taking a step inside.

You don’t get much of a look at Sejanus’ bedroom. Only enough to notice that it’s a typical Capitol room with minimal personalizations. Deep gray walls, white crown molding around the ceilings, light brown hardwood flooring. A picture of the mountains not far from the Capitol sits above a large desk across the room, and a window on each side of the wood lets in the natural light from outside. On the left wall sits a large four poster bed with a cushioned back.

And resting atop it is Sejanus. He stares off at the wall across from him, looking at nothing as it’s bare. But when you don’t speak, his eyes look over at the door. At you.

Your lips pull into a tight smile, you fold your hands behind your back.

“Oh.” Sejanus sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t know you were here.” You know he means no harm by it, but his words come out a little detached. A little rude. He seems to sense it immediately as he licks his lips and invites you in.

You aren’t sure whether you should leave the door open or shut it behind you. Ultimately, you decide to return it to the state it was in before you arrived, not letting up until you hear and feel the latch click into place.

Sejanus uncrosses his feet at the ankles as you approach him. He’s still wearing his uniform just as you are, but the blazer and the outer skirt are removed. You notice them sitting at the foot of his bed. His relaxed nature makes you feel better about peeling your blazer off.

You fold it in half and set it beside his which is thrown on the duvet without any precision, red material hanging off of the edge with one side showing the outside and the other showing the interior.

“What’re you doing here?” This time, his tone is of pure curiosity, lacking any possible negative connotations. It makes you feel better and you sit at the edge of his bed not far from him. The size of the furniture makes you feel further than you are.

“Um…” You take a second. Why are you here? Because Doctor Gaul sent you? Telling him that would do nothing but align yourself with the others. It would make your visit seem hostile. Like you’re here to threaten him, and not to warn him.

You clear your throat. “I’m here to check on you.” You hadn’t noticed the suspicion in Sejanus’ eyes until it’s gone and replaced with neutrality.

“Oh.”

You nod once.

“You seemed really upset in class earlier today. When Gaul came to visit.” Sejanus tenses up at the mention of the head gamemaker. His eyes shift to the otherside of the room, his jaw tightens, and you’re really thankful that you hadn’t directly associated yourself with the woman.

“And I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Sejanus doesn’t look at you again for a second. Then, he shrugs, wringing his hands together in his lap as his brown eyes find you once more.

“I’m okay. As okay as I could be.” With the way he says it, it makes you scoot a little closer to him. Enough for a friendly distance, but Sejanus still glances down at your thighs briefly.

“Your tribute. You knew him, right? Back in District Two?” It takes you a second, but you add: “Back home.”

That seems to soften Sejanus a little more. He flattens his hands onto the rogue of his trousers.

(His thighs look exceptional in the material. You don’t think anyone else quite fills the pants out like he does. Except maybe Festus Creed but his sour attitude squashes any possible attraction you could have towards him. Attraction … are you attracted to Sejanus?)

Sejanus speaking pulls you from your muddled inner dialogue.

“Yeah. We were classmates before we moved here.”

You’re not faking it when you tell him. “That’s awful, Sejanus.”

Your sincerity has a better effect than something planned could have. Sejanus’ shoulders lose their tension. He knocks his head back against the cushioned material of his headboard, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t speak and neither do you. But eventually, you can’t sit in the silence for much longer.

“You can tell me about it … if you want.”

Sejanus peels one eye open and he stares at you for a second, maybe trying to decide if you’re serious. And you’re doing the same. Are you telling him this because you want him to feel safe with you? Even then, are your intentions pure?

There’s no point in dwelling on it more because Sejanus scoots over in a wordless invitation, a gesture that is more of a formality than anything else since you could have easily fit beside him without movement. Either way, you slide up to Sejanus’ side and when you do, you sit a little too close to him. But you decide it would have been rude to scoot further away so you stay put.

That’s the only reason.

Not because sitting this close to Sejanus makes you feel giddy inside and you like how he smells (clean is the best way to put it, with the gentle aroma of baked goods wafting off of his clothes and it’s no wonder where that aspect comes from).

Sejanus begins with telling you of his time back in District Two. He tells you about the Plinth family status, above the baseline of citizens in Two, but he was still well liked throughout his home. He tells you about moving, how alone he felt when he was younger. How alone he still feels, and you lay it on thick when you tell him he isn’t alone. Not when he has you.

Sejanus has reasons to dispute you. It’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to defend him against your cruel classmates. You barely do anything, occasionally slipping in a comment against one of them that was truly for your own benefit if anything. Up until now, the only thing you’ve done to show Sejanus Plinth that he isn’t completely hated in the Capitol has been treating him with the same kindness you gave to others.

But he doesn’t say anything. Anything at all.

You start to consider that you’ve fucked everything up. You’ve failed Doctor Gaul and she would condemn you and kick you out of the mentorship program before you’ve even had a real shot at proving yourself.

The thing that stops your spiraling thoughts is Sejanus’ hand atop of yours. You still, unsure on what to do. But then you turn your hand over, letting your palms kiss before they intertwine, and you feel the warmth of his hand. It’s comforting.

You turn your head to look directly at Sejanus instead of out into his room, surprised to see him already looking at you.

“Thank you.” You watch his lips as he speaks, completely missing the sincerity swimming in his eyes until you flick your gaze up to them.

You can’t help but think about how soft his lips looked as you lick your own, completely forgetting about the previously meticulously applied lipgloss.

“For what?”

Sejanus begins dragging his thumb across the skin of your hand. It’s incredibly distracting.

“For everything.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

He smiles, soft and teasing and gentle and you’re starting to admit that Sejanus Plinth is really cute.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You think about all of those times you could’ve done something. When you could have joined in on poking fun at the Plinth family. When you could’ve condemned their efforts to fit in, and also their efforts to keep their district practices alive, all in one breath.

Had you not joined in because you were better than that? Better than them. Or had you kept to yourself because you felt sorry for him?

The boy, born district and forced to move to the Capitol. Now unwanted by both groups. Trying his best to blend in and stick to himself, even though his moral beliefs obviously prevented him from completely assimilating.

Maybe you didn’t feel sorry for him. Not when he had a life like this. A lavish home full of luxury goods. A father with power that could rival the oldest standing families in the Capitol, yours included. And slightly less important, a mother who kept even the rarest of guests satisfied with her goods.

Your standings on your feelings for Sejanus Plinth become more confusing whenever you find yourself gravitating forward towards his lips. You don’t notice you’re doing it until you can feel his breath against yours. Your lips are so close, just one hair of a movement and they would be touching, but you stop.

“Is this …” The question hangs unfinished in the air. You have intentions to finish it. At least you think you do, but Sejanus’ free hand cups your cheek and he closes the gap.

Kissing Sejanus Plinth is gentle, to put it simply. His lips move tentatively against yours as if he doesn’t have much experience doing this and you’re not surprised. Personal endeavors spread across the Academy faster than rabies spread throughout the Capitol during the Dark Days, and if Sejanus Plinth was hooking up with someone you would have known by the next morning.

His perceived lack of experience makes you more confident. It makes you press your lips harder against Sejanus, taking the lead as you start to encouragingly move your lips against his. Your lipgloss rubs off, you can feel it as Sejanus’ lips gain more slip to them with each movement. It aids in the kiss becoming messier, that and your combined enthusiasm.

You scoot even closer to him, your legs blindly bumping into each other. Yet, you’re not close enough. You quickly want more of him. You need more of him.

He tastes like his mothers treats, the sweet tang of pie on his tongue melding with the same taste on yours. You savored the pastry from Mrs. Plinth earlier in the day, taking your time to enjoy every single bite and taste the flavors in all of their glory. With Sejanus, you take and take without consideration of savoring. He tastes so good, having your body pressed up against his like this feels so good, and you can’t get enough.

You must gorge yourself until you’ve had your fill. But you fear that your limit may never come, that you’ll be thoroughly addicted to Sejanus Plinth and nothing will ever fill the void.

This worries you for a second, but then Sejanus is un-intertwining his hand away from yours and instead using his palm to press into your lower back.

Just this one touch is enough to dizzy you and once more, you forget why you’re here. Why you’re in the Plinth residence, sitting in Sejanus’ bed, still wearing your Academy uniform.

It’s not until Sejanus pulls away for a full breath of air that you remember. Staring into deep brown pits that you could easily lose yourself in, you’re reminded of the singular brown eye belonging to Doctor Gaul. They don’t have any similarities besides the base color. Sejanus’ eyes are uniform, for starters, and full of warmth.

Still, you remember, and concern strikes through your body for a second. When you move away from Sejanus, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

You ignore how it upsets you.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Sejanus still has his hands on you, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful for that or not.

“Why not? Do you regret it?” He speaks as if he’s afraid of the answer. So you bless him with the truth.

“No. I don’t.” You stare down at your nails, everything swirling inside of you confusing you. You have no direction of where to go from here. This part wasn’t planned. So you stick with the part that was.

“It’s just … I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here.” The hand he has on your cheek leaves but the one at your back stays.

“I thought you came here to check on me.”

You look up at Sejanus and he seems a little standoffish. His eyes are a little bit harsh, maybe concealing hurt. But his hand is still at your lower back and you take that as a good sign.

“I did! But I also came here to warn you.” His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “The Capitol is dangerous, Sejanus. They’ll do anything to protect themselves.” Why’re you telling him this? Despite its true nature, your words made you seem like you don’t support your government. The one created to protect you. And why’re you speaking to him as if you’re not Capitol. You’re proud of your heritage, but something about sitting in Sejanus’ room, your body this close to his, makes you want to briefly leave it all behind.

Maybe it’s because you want Sejanus to believe you. Yes, you need to speak like someone from the districts so the district-born boy will believe you. That’s all.

“And I know you’re just speaking your mind, which is great. But Sejanus … if you continue and you say something particularly harmful to the government, they could hurt you.”

There’s a beat. A moment of silence where Sejanus considers your words. His eyes search your face, they drop to his lap, and then they find you again. “I appreciate the concern,” he says your name, letting it hang out in the air for a moment before continuing. “But I’ll be fine.”

He might be fine, but if he goes back to mentoring tomorrow and says something treasonous, you won’t be. Easily, Gaul could determine you unfit, unable to do as simple of a task such as pacifying your classmate.

It’s a risk you can’t take.

You sigh, shuffling closer to Sejanus and cupping his face in both of your hands. You sit on your heels at this point, knees digging into the mattress right beside Sejanus’ thigh, creating a hole in the soft bedding.

Sejanus’ head is tilted up, allowing the light to meet his cheeks and eyes. He looks innocent like this, just a young boy who doesn’t realize what he’s saying. You hope if he were to continue challenging the ideals of the Capitol, then others would see him as you do now. Maybe without the lust starting to cloud your mind.

“Just please, Sejanus, please make an effort.” Then, exaggerating the situation a little more, you bat your eyelashes and pout a little as you beg, “for me?”

That does it. Sejanus’ eyes glaze over a little, as if tears are gathering in them. But he blinks and they clear up.

He nods, turning his head to the side so he can press a kiss into the palm of your hand. His hands wrap around your wrists, he slides them up your arms and around your back where he encloses your waist with his arms.

“Okay.”

And this time, you’re aware of yourself surging forward to press your lips against Sejanus’.

At first, you tell yourself you’re doing it to complete your empty confession. Nothing but tying a pretty and large bow on top of your hard work. But then, when Sejanus pulls you closer into a hug, and you trail your hands to the back of his head as he starts kissing you with an open mouth, you realize that you’re kissing Sejanus because you want to.

Because he’s attractive and sweet and unlike anyone else around you. He’s a breath of fresh air, despite his troubles that sometimes constrict your airflow with the stress his actions cause you and others.

It all seems worth it when Sejanus pulls up the back of your button up shirt and presses his hand flat against your back. His palm is warm, and just the single touch of skin on skin ignites something deep in you.

You spread your legs more from where you’re straddling him until you’re sitting on his lap instead of holding yourself up on your knees. There’s many layers between you both, your pleated overskirt a notable one that causes trouble, but you can still feel Sejanus through it all. His thighs thick and comfortable, a slight tent in his trousers that’s surely just his dick existing in a flaccid state. You grind against him once, one firm and fluid push and pull motion of your hips, and Sejanus cants his hips up into yours. You’re sure it won’t take much to get him hard.

To put your theory to test, you grind down onto Sejanus again, and he’s quickly groaning, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours as his hand digs into your hip. You don’t bother hiding your smile, Sejanus’ eyes are closed anyway.

You use the time to run your hands along the sides of his head, fingers tickling along the short hairs at the sides. Sejanus is silent, taking steady breaths, and it’s then that the weight of the situation dawns on you.

Surely Doctor Gaul didn’t have this in mind when she sent you to the Plinth house. Yet, her words ring throughout your otherwise empty head.

“Your classmate, Mr. Plinth. He’s going to be a problem. Stop him while he’s ahead.”

And when you dared to question her on why you had to be the one to do it, and not another student like Coriolanus Snow for example, she glared at you. Her back seemingly got straighter, the chip on her shoulder grew to double its original size.

“Don’t you want a spot at the University? Prove yourself to me here, and surely your application can be boosted to the right people, a few good words whispered in their ears. That is if you succeed. Placate him. Put a pink pacifier in his mouth and a bonnet on his head for all I care just shut him up.”

Her words were stern, absolutely no room for argument, which is why you packed your things up and accepted your fate. But here, like this, is this how you’re going to placate Sejanus Plinth?

Is this a means to get him to trust you? To keep his mouth shut on matters of the Capitol? Or do you really want this?

Sejanus’ hands slide down your sides and settle right above your ass. You can’t help but wish they would go just a little further down.

His touch is sturdy and strong. You feel comfortable in his hands.

“We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” you tell him, your words soft spoken and almost vulnerable. You curse yourself for them, but Sejanus doesn’t seem to latch onto the tone. He doesn’t use your moment of vulnerability to his advantage, like predator to prey.

Instead, he opens his eyes and looks up at you.

“I would like to continue. If you feel the same.”

You use your hands at the side of his head to push his visage back, latching your lips onto his gratefully.

From there, things move fairly fast.

You make quick work of your button up, pushing the buttons out of the slits so you can peel the shirt off all together. It’s thrown behind you, likely to end at the foot of the bed along with your outwear.

You don’t want to stop kissing Sejanus, but you let him pull away when you realize he wants to look at you. You're wearing a shirt, just a thin fitted camisole, but Sejanus still drinks in the sight anyway.

His eyes, a little lidded yet no less interested in your presence, graze over your décolletage. When you realize he’s content with just staring, you latch your hands onto the hem of the camisole and peel it over your head, exposing your plain black bra, the final layer of your top half.

Sejanus takes a deep breath, you both hear it and see it, and only when he has returned to his normal breathing pattern does he speak.

“May I?”

You nod, sitting up a little straighter as Sejanus’ hands trail up from your ass to the back of your bra. You expect him to struggle for a second, maybe fumble around and pull the back in the wrong direction once or twice.

But in one motion Sejanus has your bra unclasped and he’s pulling it off of your shoulders.

He palaces the garment gently beside you both, far enough away to not disturb you in the meantime.

You briefly step off of Sejanus to pull your trousers off, and Sejanus does the same once his shirt is off. Yet he removes his pants with slight difficulty. He’s too eager, he forgets to undo the button at first, and then the pants get caught at his feet. But eventually, there is a matching set of Academy rogue uniforms at the foot of Sejanus’ bed, and you’re sitting atop of him once more, playing with his hair while he blatantly stares at your tits.

“You can look and touch, Sejanus,” you tell him, voice light and a little giggly. Sejanus laughs a little at himself, raising a hand and resting it on your breast. He’s stiff at first, and you’re about to open your mouth and tell him what to do, but then he’s rubbing his thumb over your nipple before rolling it in between his fingers and you’re stunned. You sigh gratefully, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut.

You let him continue fondling your breast, already desperately desiring more, and that feeling only multiplies whenever Sejanus latches his lips onto your pert nipple. He could do anything to you right now and you would melt. You would have never guessed that Sejanus Plinth of all people could have this effect on you.

He has you frantically grinding your cunt against his boxers. He has you whining at basically no stimulation, both satisfied with what you’re being given and also calling for more. He has you eagerly pushing your panties to the side to allow your cunt to catch the cotton fabric without anything in the way.

Sejanus unlatches from your nipple at this, staring down at you with weathered breaths. You think you can hear him swear, but you can’t really hear anything through the thick haze already settling in your mind. The one that drives you to get what you want, no matter what’s required of you to get it.

When he licks around your nipple one more time, you see it, Sejanus’ eyes big and full of wonder, no hatred or sadness in them. Maybe he is being placated.

You want Sejanus. It’s something you admit to yourself briefly, not letting the thought sit in your brain long enough for you to feel any emotion attached to it. At least, not any real emotions as the only thing you can feel is a desire to bond with Sejanus in a way you’ll never be able to take back.

As you’re guiding his hand down to your center, you consider it, how things would be after this occurrence with Sejanus. Did it mean more to him than it did to you? Did it mean anything to you?

Sejanus’ pointer and ring finger glide along your panties and any other thoughts you have rushing through your brain leaves, replacing with a chant of more, more, more.

You stare down at him with what you’re sure is hunger in your eyes. Your forehead knocks against Sejanus’ as he circles your clit, and you can’t help but wonder how he’d found it so easily, only fumbling once before he made contact.

Maybe Sejanus is more experienced than you thought.

He’s preparing you, circling your clit long enough for your cunt to start leaking, creating a steadily growing patch in your panties. But, you’re impatient.

Your fingers roll down the waistband of Sejanus’ boxers enough to free his cock, unable to hold back the embarrassingly comical face you make. You can feel it in the way your features contort, and you can see it with the way Sejanus looks up at you, amusement in his brown eyes and a big grin taking over his usually stoic face.

All he says is “yeah”, his free hand cupping your cheek while his other hand starts to pump two fingers in and out of you. He’s a little cocky about it, at least that’s how you read it. You’re missing the slight insecurity that lays across his face.

You would tell Sejanus that you’re unsure about taking all of him, but your refusal to admit defeat prevents you from uttering the confession. Instead, you shuffle down his body without breaking eye contact, momentarily mourning the loss of his thick fingers inside of you before you focus on your new task.

“Can I suck you off?”

He stares at you, hesitating, blinking a few times, and you figure it’s just taking a second for him to process. You spend the time gliding your nails down his abdomen, scraping the perfected ends in the hair under his navel that leads to his cock. You go further down, raking the red manicure through the (thankfully) trimmed hair at the base of his cock.

It’s when your hand hesitates right above Sejanus’ cock that he responds.

His answer is quick, curt, and simple, even though he stutters through it the first time.

You smile and settle yourself between his thighs completely, circling your hand around the end of him. You try not to let his girth intimidate you, instead you spend a few moments shamelessly ogling at his—admittedly pretty—cock before getting in the position you’ve become fairly accustomed to in your final semester at the Academy.

He’s big, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with thus far, and uncut. Impressive in a nice combination of length and girth, although he’s slightly wider than he is long. You don’t know if the width making up for the length will have any difference when he will inevitably stretch out your mouth.

You relax your jaw and stick your tongue out a little to prepare to rest his weight along the muscle. Just the first touch of his tip against your tongue makes Sejanus gasp a little. It’s small, and if the room wasn’t as silent as it is maybe you wouldn’t have heard.

But you did.

You let your eyes flicker up towards him as you lick around his tip, laying your tongue flat and gliding it over his slit.

Sejanus’ hands grip the sheets beside his hips, which flex a little as if he’s about to fully sheath all of him inside of you at once. You don’t bother hiding the smirk that spreads across your lips when he notices he doesn’t.

“So obedient,” you murmur, perhaps for him to hear, too. Either way, Sejanus hums and nods.

His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes somehow prominent even against his tan skin and in the steadily lowering light in the bedroom. With his chest rising and falling, and his curls falling over his forehead, he looks pretty.

Sejanus Plinth has always been pretty. You find no shame in admitting it.

You briefly tear your eyes away from one pretty sight to another. There’s a trail of almost clear fluid running form from Sejanus’ tip, glistening along the side of him. You follow it with your eyes for one second, and then let your tongue follow the same path.

You don’t focus much on the flavor, it’s not your main focus at all currently. Instead, you focus on the pleasure that takes over Sejanus’ being.

This time, he lets his hands find your head, a large palm cupping the side with the tips of his fingers digging into your hair. You expect him to push you further down like men in the past have, but he doesn’t. His hand doesn’t do anything at all.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being treated this fragile. You don’t know if you like it or not but you also decide not to focus on it at all.

There’s nothing to focus on other than Sejanus.

Having cleaned him up a little, you wrap your lips around his tip with intentions to make more of a mess. You sink down on him slowly, trying to pace yourself, but it’s hard whenever Sejanus is making such pretty noises above you.

Small whines that get trapped in his throat, transforming into something that sounds more similar to a groan. When you look at him, you see his eyes heavy lidded, almost closed, as he stares down at you. His heavy eyebrows create a shadow that makes his gaze look intimidating. Briefly, you see Sejanus for what he could be perhaps with time, a man who’s tough and takes what he wants. It’s wishful thinking that Sejanus Plinth could become like this, but you can easily see yourself with a man like that, completely comfortable with the familiar go-getter attitude of the Capitol.

Really, Sejanus Plinth is the opposite, a man who works towards what he wants out of desire to do good.

His hand strokes your cheek and he nods.

“You’re so good at this. Please, keep going.”

You didn’t even know you needed it, but the encouragement from Sejanus makes you breathe through your nose a little more pointedly as you take the final bit of him that you can fit.

It’s not all—you don’t know if you could fit all of Sejanus without training—but for your first time it’s enough.

You let your mouth hang open to allow any remnants of saliva to drizzle down the rest of Sejanus, gathering it in your fist and using the lubrication to comfortably stroke the rest of Sejanus’ length.

It takes you a little while to get in a rhythm. You forcibly control your gag reflex and breathe through your nose but even then, with each movement down and up, you feel like you’re choking on Sejanus’ cock.

You pull off of him after only a few moments, taking the time to swallow and breathe without controlling it. He lets you take your time, not a single complaint leaving his lips as he patiently waits for your lips to find him once more.

You continue to suck Sejanus off, now needing some attention yourself. You fix the way you’re sitting to spread your legs enough to position the heel of your foot against your cunt. It’s slightly uncomfortable, your foot a little too hard for your delicate center, but it thoroughly gets the job done as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the friction.

You hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the tip of Sejanus before sinking back down on him. He groans, low and deep in his chest. His head falls back and thuds against the padded headboard. His legs lift at the knee for a second, before they meet the mattress once more. And finally, the hand on your head gains pressure. He pushes you down a little, not nearly enough weight for you to have to fight against, more like a calm encouragement.

One you take confidently, sinking yourself all the way down and removing your hand from the base of Sejanus’ cock. You can’t stay like this for long, your throat is already threatening to seize up, but you slink your hand down to Sejanus’ balls, fondle and massage them in your hand for long enough, and then he’s digging his hand into your scalp and gripping for dear life.

He grunts through gritted teeth, his hands get tighter in your hair, and you realize that he’s trying to pull you off of him.

“I’m close,” he says your name urgently, “you gotta get off. ‘M gonna…”

His hips twitch up towards you, you swear you feel his cock twitch, too, and then Sejanus spurts warm cum straight down your throat.

You slide off of Sejanus, letting his cum trickle down along the way, freeing most of it from your mouth. Sejanus watches. He licks his lips just before you do the same to yours, and you’re quick to lean up before you swallow the rest of him.

His hand still hasn’t left your hair, so he just slides it down to the side of your neck as your lips meet in the middle.

The kiss is hot, to put it simply. Sejanus’ other hand is on your lower back, then your breast, then your ass, before finding a home between your thighs. He presses his tongue against yours, not caring about the remnants of his cum on your muscle. In fact, he licks around your mouth, running his tongue at the back of your teeth for good measure.

By the time you pull away, you figure that after he’s shot a load right onto your tongue and then licked it off, Sejanus would be done. You expected him to kiss your cheeks and maybe offer a glass of water like the gentleman he is.

But instead, Sejanus stares up at you with wide eyes, lacking any sign of exhaustion. “Can I…” he starts then stops, glancing down at where you’re still straddling his softening cock. His fingers start to run up and down your cunt.

He starts again. “Can I make you feel good, too?”

His questions shocks you a little. Yeah, you didn’t cum, but you didn’t expect Sejanus to focus on that. Besides, that’s not why you’re here. Or, it’s not why you’ve done what you did. You gave Sejanus head because you expected him to be in a sex haze after that, maybe believing he was linked to you in a way that would demand he abided by your pleas.

(At least, that’s what you reason with yourself)

At this point, if you let him get you off, it would be just a bit of fun. You’re tempted to say yes, your lips forming the simple word, but just then you tell him:

“You don’t have to.”

Sejanus’ eyebrows furrow. “But I want to.”

God, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to say no.

“Not today, Sej,” you hope the nickname (that you’ve never said before nor have you ever heard anyone call him that) would make him give in. “It’s getting late and I have to get home and … your parents, they should be home soon, too, right?”

His face deflates and once more, you briefly feel bad. Guilt weighs on your shoulders. Fear that you’d just missed out on something that will never come your way again settles behind your eyes. He removes his hand.

He nods, rubbing his lips together before nodding again. “Yes. Yeah. Okay. I understand.”

It’s not long after that you’re standing at the Plinth front door, one hand on the knob and the other holding your bag.

Sejanus stands in front of you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Despite your previous rejections, his face still has a different glow to it now, taking over the previous shadow that resided on his features whenever you arrived earlier.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

The way he says it is full of expectancy, like you’re a thing now. It’s odd that your smile is genuine.

“Yeah.”

You take a step closer to him. “And think about what we talked about okay?” Before I sucked your dick, you resist adding. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Sejanus smiles softly, takes a step forward, staring down at you with something like amusement in his eyes. As if he’s pleased by you caring about him.

“Okay. I will.” As he reassures you, he leans in until your lips are pressed together a final time. You don’t want to leave the kiss, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his rest on your lower back.

He pulls back, his features all around a little softer.

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he confirms.

For some reason, you don’t believe him.

#sejsworld!#sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth #celeste writes thg

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bucksangel · 1 month

Note

Okay but imagine bunny has just been feeling so ill :((( and she’s so so sorry Bucky has to take care of her like this :( but she still tries to make him meals and keep up with her chores and be good for him :( even though he’s adamant that she not lift a finger until she’s better

Maybe he comes home one day and she’s crying and she’s apologizing because she knows he’s so stressed already with work and she’s just so so sorry for adding to that :(

And he’s just like “what are you talking about? why are you sorry”

And then she just hands him a positive pregnancy test and keeps apologizing for giving him one more thing to worry about

But he’s just immediately thrilled and is already thinking about how to decorate the nursery and he can’t wait to fuck the tears away while calling her his little mama

Anyway… I’ll see myself out… splendid writing as always my dear!!! <3

I’m literally laying on my stomach with my legs in the air and i’m kicking them and giggling, you’re so kind. And i looooove this idea so here’s a lil drabble :) (also you are always welcome to come back😭😭)

Title: An Odd Flu

pairing: sofdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: 18+ so minors dni, mentions of vomiting and being sick, so much fluff, minor angst, hints of abortion though it’s not said outright (only 2-3 sentences), soft love-making, sir kink, petnames (bunny, mama (but not in a mommy kink way)), fingering, dom!bucky, sub!reader, aftercare

main masterlist | run little bunny masterlist

Originally, you thought it was an odd case of the flu. You weren’t running a fever and you weren’t feeling overheated or freezing cold, but you were so tired all the time that you’d have to take a midday nap in order to stay awake long enough to have dinner with James. Then it was the vomiting, you’d wake up around seven in the morning and rush to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach.

What made things better was that James had been there for you, waiting on you hand and foot whenever he was home. He’d draw you baths and massage your back to relieve your sore muscles. He’d make you soup and tea, going so far as to feed you by hand. He would even cancel meetings if you were feeling especially awful.

But that’s where the problem lies. Leading up to your flu James had been stressed. There was meeting after meeting, paperwork the height of the Empire State Building, and calls coming in after the previous one ended. You already felt physically bad, but the fact that he’s become stretched even thinner has you feeling bad emotionally.

This morning in particular has been the worst of the last three weeks. You gagged when you went downstairs and smelt the eggs James was cooking and had to rush to the bathroom. Your headache felt more like a migraine and all you really want to do is curl up next to James in bed and have him rub your back.

But that’s not possible today. James had a meeting that he had been trying to organize for the past month and it was with people outside of the U.S., so there was no way he could miss it. He still offered to stay home anyway and let his right-hand man, Steve, take over, but you nearly cried when he suggested it. You didn’t want to mess anything up just because you were sick. So, at your insistence, he left with a kiss on your forehead and made you promise to call him if anything got worse.

The only stipulation was that you had to see a doctor while he was gone. His personal doctor, because of course he’s rich enough to have a personal doctor, agreed to come over and check you out.

It was when she got there that things started to feel… off. She noted your symptoms with a glint in her eye that told you she immediately knew what was going on. When she put away her tools, she reached into a different pocket in her bag, giving it to you with a small, knowing smile.

It was a pregnancy test. And suddenly you’re questioning everything. The morning sickness, the aversion to foods you once craved, the crying spells.

Then, you remember your period was supposed to start two days ago. When it didn’t come you just assumed it was because you were ill. Now, though, things are making sense.

That doesn’t stop the insecurities from creeping in. James has been so busy with work lately and this is just one more stressor to add to that. And on top of that, you haven’t been able to do as much cleaning or cooking as you normally do, as much as you want to do. James has been insistent that you not overexert yourself by doing your daily tasks, but you feel so bad that he has to come home from a long day of work to the house being a mess.

When you go to the bathroom, your hands are shaking as you hold the test in the proper position. You’ve always wanted kids, and you can’t imagine having babies with anyone else except James. He always takes care of you, is always lovely and patient even when he’s exhausted and snapping at everyone else, he’s the perfect man and would make a perfect father.

Your hands continue to shake as you wash them, and your whole body vibrates with nerves as you walk back out into the living room to see Doctor Romanoff packing the rest of her things. Her eyes are sympathetic when she senses your anxiety, and she carefully takes the test from you.

The five-minute wait is agonizing, you’re unable to sit still so you’ve been pacing back and forth around the living room awaiting the results. And when the timer goes off, your whole body goes rigid. Your back is to Doctor Romanoff when you hear her hum thoughtfully.

You know what that sound means.

It takes all your effort to turn around, but when you do you find her arm outstretched, offering you the test.

“I’m not sure if it’s the answer you want, but I’m here for whatever you need.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to take the test from her. And, with a big breath, you look down to see the little pink plus sign staring back at you, and tears immediately fill your eyes. You know that James wants kids, he’s very bad at dropping hints when you go to the store and pass by the baby aisle. But, he’s overworked right now, constantly answering calls and responding to emails, and you’re doubting if now is the right time to have a baby.

“Um, th-thank you,” You say weakly, looking up at her with a wavering smile. She nods, and you lead her to the front door and wave her goodbye.

The tears start falling when the door closes behind her, and you quickly rush to your room. You’re staring at the test through your clouded vision, worrying yourself over how to tell him. You know you need to, you want to. So, once you’ve calmed down you pull out your laptop and search for different ideas.

“Bunny, I’m home!” James sounds tired, exhausted really, though you hope the smell of chicken and vegetables will help him wake up a little.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Your hands are shaking so badly when you take the pan out of the oven, and you have to hurry to place it on the counter before you drop it. Suddenly, James’ arms wrap around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and tucking his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume.

“What did I say about overexerting yourself?” His voice is soft, even though he’s clearly tired you know he’s about to march you upstairs and tuck you into bed. “You need your rest.”

“Well, I feel bad for not cleaning as much as I used to, and you’ve been so tired lately.” You pause, taking a large breath and turning in his arms so you can loop your arms around his neck. Your eyes start to water when you see his eyebrows furrow with concern. “Besides, it’s not going to go away any time soon. Google says that morning sickness can last up to 20 weeks and your doctor says I’m only five weeks along.”

James opens his mouth to say something, then promptly closes it when he registers your words. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his hold on you slightly loosening as he flounders for a minute. You can see in his eyes that he’s trying to piece together all of your symptoms from the last few weeks, and he’s a smart man, so it’s not a surprise that he figures it out pretty quickly.

“Are… Are you…?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Time seems to stand still, James seems to have frozen in place trying to sink in your words. And the longer the silence goes on the more worried you become, and a few tears slide down your cheeks.

“I-I know this isn’t the ideal time, and you’re extremely busy with work, but it just happened. I’m so sorry, I know this is just going to make you even more stressed, and I-I don’t know what you want to do, but –” You’re cut off by James pressing his lips to yours, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you into his chest.

The kiss is frantic, desperate, excited. And when James pulls back you can’t help but follow his lips with yours, trying to keep the kiss going. But James doesn’t give in, instead, he leans back enough to be able to look into your eyes. And his are glassy, filled with unshed tears as he brings up one hand to brush away yours with his thumb.

“Fuck, bunny. Don’t be sorry, never be sorry for this. Bunny, you’re – you’re giving me everything I’ve wanted since I first saw you.”

Loosening his arms around your waist, he drops to his knees, placing one hand on your hip and covering your stomach with the other. He stares at your belly with amazement, then pushes up your shirt so he can kiss your belly. Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, rubbing his scalp and running your fingers through it. After a couple of minutes, he finally moves back to look up at you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He smiles wide when you nod, more tears involuntarily sliding down your cheeks.

“I’m really pregnant.” Your voice wavers, but you’re finally at ease, no longer worried about how James would react.

“Fuck, bunny,” He whispers, slowly rising to his feet and grabbing your hips. He leans down, brushing his lips over yours and smiling a little when you whine. “You’re going to be such a pretty mama.”

James is unable to stop himself from lifting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You bury your face in his neck, kissing and nibbling on his skin until he gets to your room and lays you gently on the bed.

He doesn’t immediately climb onto the bed, he just stands at the end of the bed and stares at you with a mixture of love and lust. A few moments of silence goes by before you finally whine, wiggling your hips to hopefully entice him.

It works. James shrugs off his jacket and unbuttons his shirt, smirking at you the whole time because your eyes are roaming over his bare chest, and you’re practically drooling when he gets to his pants.

“See something you like?” He chuckles when you glare at him.

“You know I do, so please hurry up. I want you inside me.” While you were teasing, you know you’ve made a mistake when his smile drops and one of his eyebrows raises.

“Where are those manners, bunny? Just because I knocked you up doesn’t mean I’m not still your Sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir! I-I didn’t mean to - I just -“ You stumble over your words, not worried about him punishing you physically, but you know he’s not above edging you for hours on end, and you’re sure you’ll actually cry if that happens.

“I know, bunny,” James coos, finally stepping out of his pants and boxers and kicking them to the side. Before you can say anything he grabs you by your ankles, then tugs you down the bed until your legs are dangling off the edge. “It’s okay, you’re still my good little bunny.”

You moan at his words, a pleasant fuzziness clouding your head. And then James helps you sit up a little so he can unzip your dress — his favorite floral one — and slide the straps down your arms. When he lays you back down he pulls the dress down and off your body, groaning when he sees your bare body, just as he likes it. One of his rules about living with him is that you’re not to wear panties or a bra, you have to always be ready for him.

You and James have never been more grateful for it.

“Fuck, bunny,” James groans and takes hold of his achingly hard cock, squeezing the base. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Going to make such a beautiful mama.”

“Sir, please.” Your eyes water, this time from frustration. You need him inside you immediately.

“Okay, bunny, okay, don’t worry your pretty little head.” James climbs onto the bed and arranges your bodies so he’s sitting against the headboard and you’re sitting on his lap, your back to his chest and your pussy resting over his throbbing dick.

It takes everything in you not to roll your hips against his, the only reason you don’t is because you want to be good for him. He seems to recognize this and lovingly kisses your cheek, humming softly.

“My good girl, my perfect girl,” James mumbles into your ear, placing his hands on the inside of your thighs and spreading them wide open, hooking your ankles around his calves. He drags one hand up to rest lightly on your stomach, his other stroking your thigh, climbing higher and higher until you’re practically vibrating with need.

“Sir.” You’re already sounding pathetic, but, to be fair, James has that effect on you. With only a few touches he can render you dumb, but you love it.

“What do you need, bunny?” James asks as though he doesn’t already know what you need. What you crave.

“You, sir. Always you.” Tears spring to your eyes, damn your hormones.

James sighs behind you, trailing his lips to your cheek, down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“You have me, pretty mama. You always have me. I’m yours as much as you are mine.” His words make you sniffle, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

You’re so lucky.

“Come here, bunny.” James urges you off his lap, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying down and he’s hovering over you. He leans on one elbow and reaches up with his other hand to wipe away a few tears, smiling softly when you nuzzle his palm.

“Are you going to let me love on you, pretty mama?”

“Y-Yes, please. Please!” You’re slipping even further into that soft space where nothing else matters except for James, except for Sir.

James leans down, brushing his lips against yours and chuckling when you whine. The moment he finally kisses you he slides his hand down your neck to your breasts, lighting tugging at one of your nipples before sliding down further until he can spread your legs. He only pulls back when his hand makes it to the inside of one of your thighs, cooing when you whimper.

“It’s okay, bunny. I’m going to give you everything you need.” He’s slow and careful when he inches closer to your soaking pussy, running his thumb along your lips and dipping in to gently rub your clit.

He teases you for a long while, staring into your eyes when he dips two fingers in your hole easily due to how wet you are. He’s slow and methodical as he slips in another finger, kissing your cheeks every so often to catch stray tears. When he finally decides you’ve had enough teasing he starts thrusting his fingers faster, crooking them upwards to hit your special spot.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to cum, both because of James’ expert fingering and because of his husky voice whispering praises in your ear. And it’s an intense orgasm, your body going so far as to squirt liquid all over his hand.

It does take a bit for you to come down from your high, your mind is too clouded and fuzzy from pleasure. But when you do come to your senses you’re in the bathtub, your back to his chest as you soak in the warm water. James’ hands are on your stomach, rubbing over it as though it holds a priceless gem.

And, to be fair, there is. The little baby growing inside you is going to be the most loved child in the world.

“James?” Your voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“Yes, bunny?” He kisses your neck, and you lean against him further.

“What, um—“ You wiggle a little, feeling his now only semi-hard cock against your lower back. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” James hums, suckling at your skin. “Tonight is about you, pretty mama.”

You’ll never understand how it’s possible to love someone as much as you love James, let alone be loved by such a perfect man, but you won’t question it.

tagging: @hisredheadedgoddess28

#let me know what yall think!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #dark!bucky barnes #softdark!bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #dark!bucky #my writing #my stuff

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dexlexia · 11 months

Text

lunch break - garp x reader

pairing: monkey d. garp x reader rating: 18+ summary: This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You joined the Marines to fight against pirates! You were supposed to make it to the top ranks and be the best in the field. To protect the seas and the islands in them. But then you met Monkey D. Garp. tags: pwp, pregnant!reader, desk/office sex, gentle sex, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, GDILF!garp, former marine reader, husband and wife

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You joined the Marines to fight against pirates! You were supposed to make it to the top ranks and be the best in the field. To protect the seas and the islands in them. But then you met Monkey D. Garp.

The man was old enough to be your grandfather and here you were, walking through the base with lunch in hand. Garp had told you to stay home and he'd find another way to eat. He didn't want you leaving the home you shared just to bring him some lunch. But you told him that the exercise was good, especially good for the baby.

He sighed and told you not to take any detours, it didn't matter if an old woman needed to get something off a shelf or there was a kicked puppy. You were to go to the base, see him then go home. He didn't want to take chances with his pregnant wife.

So the whole Marine thing didn't work out, it only took a year in the service and a few too many occasions of unprotected sex before you made a nice home for yourself. But you were happy, sure the age gap was a bit to wince at but you were an adult. You could make your own choices, and the vice admiral made you very happy.

You were let into the base, most could recognize you by now. You were six months along now, and around lunchtime your baby knew that it was time to stretch so as you made it through the halls of the base, you had to rest against walls or sit on ledges and stools to take a small break. Garp was happy that his boy was active, it would mean that he'd be a good Marine.

You corrected him and told him it was his *daughter* who was active, and he didn't have a good track record of his family becoming Marines.

Eventually you made it all the way to his office and rubbed your lower back. A sharp kick in the ribs made you exhale deeply. You patted your belly, ”Calm down you.“ Before you knocked on the door.

Garp told you to come in and he was delighted when he saw you. He got up from his chair quickly and went over to you. He even took off his jacket to cover your bare shoulders, ”You're going to catch a cold.“ He said, he took the wrapped lunch and shepherd you to the desk where he placed the homemade meal.

”It's warm out today.“ You tried to argue, but he was stubborn. Instead he leaned down and kissed you on the cheek and rested a large hand on your belly. The doctor on the island said that the baby might be the largest born in a long time.

”Still. If you get sick, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.“ He pulled away and grabbed you a chair to sit down on. He then guided you to sit down, he eyed your belly and smiled. Not much longer now.

He grabbed another chair and sat it across from you. ”How is he?“

”She's doing fine, she knows I was coming to see you.“ You relaxed a bit in the chair to get the pressure off your back, ”Come feel.“ You pulled your shirt up a bit to expose your belly and reached over to grab his hand, ”She needs to know who her daddy is.“ When he touched your skin, your heart skipped a beat.

Garp smiled, the kind of smile that reached those beautiful eyes. He rubbed your warmed skin, ”Are you being good to mama?“ He asked, ”Not causing her any trouble?“ He was hoping to fully retire by the time your child was born, then he could stay home and keep up with his child and younger wife. He wasn't too sure how much time he had left, he was getting older.

”She's doing great, she's got quite the kick.“ You chuckled and placed a hand over his. Call it hormones but the way he was being so attentive was a bit of a turn on. It made you feel warm all over as he felt for the child you made together. A piece of your love.

You got up from the chair and kept his hand on your exposed belly as you went to sit in his lap.You felt your heart hammer in your chest like it was your first love.

”My beautiful wife.“ He said softly as he kissed at your temple. Soon both large hands were roaming your belly, ”Giving me strong babies.“ He felt so warm towards you. You placed your hands over his and turned your head to face him.

”You made me this way, I wouldn't want children with anyone else.“ Then kissed him on the lips. What started out as a soft couple's kiss turned into something more heated. Soon you felt something hard against your back.

”Good, because after this one I think we should give him a sibling. Maybe two.“ He pulled you in for another kiss as one hand dipped between your legs. The other remained on your belly for support. He undid the button of your pants and pulled down past your swollen middle.

”How about our own Marine force?“ You giggled as you felt your face grow hot. His thumb played with your clit and you bit your lip to hold back a moan. You felt so small compared to him, he was a large man after all.

”I'd be happy with that.“ He rubbed your swollen middle. He whispered in your ear, ”We have about twenty minutes before the cadets finish lunch. Or we can wait till I get home. What's my wife thinking of doing?” His voice was hot and it warmed your core.

You smiled at him, “I'd let my husband take me in front of every cadet at the base, it's already evident that you and I have a lot of fun in the bedroom.”

“That's my girl.” He grinned before he leaned in for one last kiss. His thumb still played with your clit over your panties. When he pulled away he said, ”I'll help you on to the desk.“ Then watched you get up and off his lap.

With some support from the desk, you got your pants and underwear off. Your sandals found their way next to them as you tried to get yourself onto the desk. But the size you were now, it made it hard to do that. So Garp had to hoist you up.

He looked down at you, ”If it hurts, let me know.“ he rubbed the top of your head, ”I don't need you to be in more pain.“ Then get between your legs. He carefully undid his pants. His cock was threatening to break the seams of his underwear as he exposed it to you.

You licked your lips, his cock was impressive. A slight curve, and thick. When you two first started to have sex, it was a struggle getting it to fit. You spent hours in Garp's room as he pleasured you in other ways to get you relaxed enough to make it fit.

You were certain that if you were an outsider looking in, you'd wonder how he fit into you. Something so big fitting into something so small.

He leaned down to kiss you once more while he held onto your left thigh with one hand and rubbed his hardened cock against your wet pussy with his other hand. He groaned into the kiss, just the smallest taste of what he wanted. The pussy he bred happily.

Sure you weren't a Marine anymore, but you did your service by making sure that your husband got pleasure. You held onto the edge of the desk with one hand and held onto your exposed belly with the other. This felt more fulfilling than active duty.

”Ready?“ He asked.

You nodded, you knew it was going to hurt a little but for your husband it was worth it. To feel that connected to him in a way that no one else on the island could. with him. You gripped onto the desk tightly and scrunched up your face as he slowly pushed into you.

You told yourself to relax and he was able to get every last inch inside. Now you felt extra full. You leaned back a little and he helped you lie on the desk, he moved things out of the way. You held onto his wrists where his hands were on your thighs as leverage for his thrusts.

”You're beautiful.“ He admired as he slowly thrusted. Your body moved gently against the wood of the table. He didn't want to tear or bruise anything. So he was going to be gentle with you. After all, you were in a fragile state.

You chuckle softly, ”Just wait until I'm screaming my head off in three months.“ You moved one hand away and rubbed your middle as he kept a consistent pace. You felt warm all over, this was the man you married. The one who changed your whole path for the better.

”And I'll still love you then. You can be mad at me all you want, as long as you and the baby are safe at the end.“ He reached and rubbed your bump too, ”I'll be there the whole way.“ His pace moved marginally faster and your stomach did a flip from the rush of pleasure.

You moaned, “Garp!” You felt the pressure build up in your gut which only increased when he started to pick up the pace. You held onto your belly and his wrist for support as he thrusted up into you. You could tell he was watching every expression on your face as he moved in and out.

Your back arched slightly when he hit a good spot and he leaned down to seal you into a kiss so you didn't make too much noise. You were married but he'd never live it down if someone caught the two of you making love in his office.

You felt his white facial hair tickle your face as he continued to move inside of you. His thrusts were gentle and caring, you knew he could be dominating and rough but in the state you were in, the last thing on his mind was to hurt you.

It felt almost romantic if it weren't for the fact it was being done in his office. The office he saw people almost every day, where he conducted his business.

You made a small moaning noise into the kiss and he said “Shh, shh, shh. Let me make you feel good.” His voice was quiet as he continued to thrust up into you. He held onto you as he moved, his heart raced with every hard thrust. “You're perfect.“ He said.

“Thank you, Garp.“ You replied with his lips so close to yours. The two of you kissed once more and the pleasure was building up. You didn't have much time and you didn't want to go home unsatisfied.

You rolled your hips alongside him as he kept kissing you. Both of his hands were on your hips down as he thrusted against you. The feeling was amazing, you loved how you felt under him.

He continued his movements as the feeling of pleasure took over. He moved a bit faster for the last few strokes and with one more jab against your sweet spot, you both climaxed at the same time. He pulled you into a searing kiss to keep both of your quiet as he finished inside of you, which left your insides all sticky.

You held onto his tightly as you climaxed and then relaxed, out of breath onto the desk. Garp pulled out and rubbed your swollen middle, “That's a good mama, making her husband feel good.”

Cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. Which he quickly cleaned up with a handkerchief in his pocket. He leaned down and kissed your belly, “Alright, mama, let's get you dressed and sent back home. You have to rest.' He smiled before he grabbed your bottoms from the floor.

As you laid in euphoric bliss, you couldn't have been happier. You may have failed as a Marine but you were very good at being a housewife.

#dexlexia writes #anime x reader #reader insert #one piece #one piece x reader #pregnant reader #one piece garp #monkey d. garp #vice admiral garp #monkey d garp #one piece smut #garp x reader #garp smut

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

Text

Don't Worry, Darling: Eight

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of drugging, choking, vomiting, mentions of murder, dark!Rafe, mentions of a gun, mention of drugs, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Just one more chapter! Excited to be getting near the end, enjoy <3

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist

Ice cold fingers dig into the searing heat of your skin. His hold on your neck is tight, making you gasp for air as his hand has the strength to stop you from breathing all together.

You can feel his weight on top of you, more suffocating than him choking you to death. He pushes himself inside you, over and over again. You want to stop him, but it’s impossible for you to use your breath to say anything.

Sandalwood hangs heavy in the air, mixing with his musk. Through the darkness, you can’t make out your assailant.

You want to call out, not only to stop him, but to get help from the first person your mind can think of. The man you still feel instinctively safe with.

Except, the man above you finally speaks. He tries to comfort you, soothing you from how he’s hurting you.

And then you realize that the man raping you and the man you are trying to find refuge in are the same.

You open your mouth to scream but instead you’re ripped from the nightmare, waking up with a gasp on your lips.

You look around your dark bedroom, only to find your husband sleeping soundly beside you.

You stare at him for a moment, the nightmare still floating around in your head.

You’re not sure whether the nightmare was tapping into your fears only located in your subconscious, or if it truly meant something.

It’s been about a week since you found out you’re pregnant. The news turned your world upside down. After you left the doctor’s office, you just sat in your car awhile, not stopping the tears from falling.

You thought about what it means for your life now and how it could’ve even happened. Even before the disarray with Rafe, you didn’t want a baby just yet.

So, with everything happening…how can you bring a baby into this mess?

But you knew how upset Rafe would be if you told him, you didn’t want the baby.

And all you’ve been doing for the last few weeks is trying not to upset him.

So, when he got home from work that day, you gave him the news.

He didn’t say anything at first and you worried that you got it wrong. That maybe he changed his mind, and a baby would only add to the stress.

Then, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. He kissed you and you could tell he was elated about it.

But it faltered when he noticed that your mood didn’t exactly match his.

“I just thought we were being careful,” you told him.

You were sitting on a dining room chair, your hands in your lap. He bent down to look at you better, his hands gently finding yours.

“We were,” he said as a matter of fact. “But accidents happen. And I mean, we haven’t really been able to keep our hands off each other lately,” he added with a smirk.

He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you, he means.

“What matters is we’re going to have a baby. We’re finally going to be a family.” He couldn’t hide his excitement even if he tried.

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at his words. But as you looked into his eyes, trepidation filled yours.

Even now as you watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep, the feeling that he’s lying is one you can’t ignore any longer.

Before you can think about it anymore, you can feel your stomach twist into knots, bile starting to rise.

You jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You’re not sure how much longer you can bear this sickness. You’re told it should only last the first trimester, but it could last the whole pregnancy if you’re unlucky.

You don’t hear him walk up behind you, but you feel the comforting weight of his hand on your back as he rubs circles into your shirt.

Even if you wanted to, you don’t think you have the strength to push him away.

The phone call came unexpectedly.

It’s true that you got behind on editing for clients. But you thought you were okay. You were just starting to get back into finishing them.

You were actually making yourself a snack before resuming your work on a new book. But now there’s no reason to keep going.

“They’re called deadlines for a reason, Y/N.” Your boss’s voice rings out.

“I know, and I apologize, Mr. Samuels. It’s just a lot has been going on lately and…I recently found out that I’m pregnant.”

You can hear him sigh.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But you knew from the beginning how important it is to meet deadlines, especially with how fast paced things are in the publishing world.”

You want to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, but you can’t. All you can do is listen.

“We have to let you go. I’m sorry. I wish you the best with the baby,” he says before hanging up.

Rafe finds you on the couch, still crying, even hours later.

He says your name with worry and fear.

Not even a moment later, he’s trying to wipe your tears away.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

All you can do is shake your head as you sit up.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong,” he tries again.

You sniffle as you try to blink away anymore tears.

“They fired me,” you finally say, as if your mouth is filled with glue, struggling to get the words out.

He keeps his gaze away from you, putting a hand on your knee, trying to soothe you yet again.

You wonder if you’ll ever get sick of it.

Maybe you already are.

“Did they say why?”

Now it’s your turn to look somewhere else. You bite your lip instead of answering.

Rafe sighs before telling you, “Maybe this is a good thing.”

He gets your attention with those words. He immediately continues at your furrowed brow.

“All that work and stress isn’t good for the baby. Now you’ll have more time to relax.”

It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying.

You scoff, “you’ve never liked me working. I’m sure this makes you happy.”

“No,” he argues. “I’m just trying to see the bright side of this, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. There’s no point in fighting with him about this. It’s not like this is his fault.

So, you just nod.

“I’m going to start dinner. You’re probably hungry.”

That’s all you say before leaving the room.

You thought the chaos would end there. You’ve been dealt one blow after another. So, maybe it was naïve for you to think things could ever calm down.

It starts with a segment on the news.

You had the TV on while you were vacuuming, barely able to hear the voices over the loud noise of cleaning the rug.

But when you catch a glimpse of the floating words under the reporter, you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

You fumble as you try to turn off the vacuum as fast as you can before turning up the TV.

“The only information we have as of right now is a body was found earlier today, spotted by local fishermen. Based on eyewitness reports, it is a male in his mid to late twenties. Kildare County Police Department is refusing to comment at this time. We hope to…”

You almost end up puking on the rug you just cleaned, but you’re able to run to the kitchen. The poison spills from your lips into the sink.

You’re not sure when the tears started, but your retching turns into sobs as you collapse onto the floor.

You’re going to jail for helping to cover up a murder and all you can think about is what your parents will think.

The whole island will know what a horrible human being you are.

Anyone you have ever loved will never look at you the same.

Besides Rafe, you suppose.

Why doesn’t your love for him have any boundaries?

If only it did, you wouldn’t be throwing your whole life away.

This whole time you thought you were scared of Rafe, but really, you’re scared of your love for him.

He has a hold on you that made it so easy for you to throw away your morals, choosing his violence over your peace.

You barely hear him get home, closing the front door like he’s afraid someone will burst in at any second.

He’s off early from work, but you wouldn’t know that since you haven’t left your spot on the cold kitchen floor.

You don’t notice the guilt that washes over his face when he sees you because it’s gone as quickly as it’s there.

“We have to go, Y/N,” he says while reaching his arms out, trying to get you off the floor.

You ignore him, sobs still erupting from you.

“We’re going to jail, Rafe. They know. They know everything…”

Another gut-wrenching cry falls from your lips as your eyes screw shut.

“That’s why we gotta leave, alright?”

He’s finally able to pull you off the floor, guiding you upstairs with a tight grip.

“We’re gonna get out of this, baby. Just stop crying, please,” he placates.

You’re finally able to calm yourself down, a sob still trying to get free every now and then.

You realize what he’s doing when he starts throwing clothes into an empty suitcase.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to pack?” His appeasing tone is gone, irritation replacing it.

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Rafe, what are you doing? We can’t leave.”

“What other choice do we have?”

You follow him into his office.

“I’m not spending the rest of our lives running. Especially when we’ll have a baby soon.”

You try to convince him to change his mind.

He doesn’t stop to look at you, rummaging through the drawers of his desk. Your mouth twists up when a small bag of coke falls onto the wooden surface.

As much as it upsets you, it almost makes you nostalgic for a time when Rafe’s addiction was the only dark cloud lingering over your relationship.

Now, there’s too many to count.

“Flush it,” he demands, pointing to the bag.

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes before you trudge over to grab it.

At least Rafe knows he can’t bring that with him.

You don’t want to have to say goodbye to your life, to the island you’ve always called home.

But you really don’t want to go to prison.

You’re still standing there, staring out your bathroom window after the drugs are long gone, flushed down the toilet.

It hits you how much you want your parents, wishing they could swoop in and fix everything like they could when you were a child.

It also hits you that the human growing inside you will expect the same thing from you and Rafe one day.

Except, you know they deserve so much better than what either of you could offer.

A thunderous noise echoes throughout the house, followed by a man’s voice.

You can still hear him yelling when you run to find Rafe.

“What are you doing?” you yell, seeing him loading a gun.

“They’re coming for us.”

“Are you stupid? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

You could hear them pounding on the door. They’re coming in any second, you know it.

You gently grab his wrist.

“Just do the right thing for once. Rafe, please,” you lightly say.

You stare into his blue eyes, and it feels like time has stopped, stretched thin before the inevitable happens.

His jaw ticks and you think he’s not going to listen to you.

But as the door bursts open, he drops the gun onto his desk.

He gives you a quick but bruising kiss before he steps into the hallway.

Everything that comes after is a blur.

The police let him walk downstairs, their guns pointed at him before cuffing him.

Not only do they arrest him, taking him to a police car. But they have a search warrant. They’re allowed to look anywhere they want to. Men you’ve never met before get to go through your things, creating a mess in their trail.

At least they don’t arrest you.

You expect them to, but instead they ask you tons of questions. You tell them how Rafe came home early from work, frantic about needing to leave. You were confused as he wouldn’t tell you anything.

You decide to feign ignorance. That’s a better way of saying you lie right to their faces.

But you’re not just protecting yourself anymore.

Now you wait at the police station, leg shaking and fingers fidgeting with the light sweater you have on.

You can hear Ward and his lawyer speaking to Shoupe, voices being raised every once in a while.

They’re charging Rafe with first-degree murder. As of right now, only for Jake’s murder. They still don’t have enough evidence to charge him with Chase’s, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they found something soon.

They booked him in the county jail where he’ll be until his trial. Unless Ward can negotiate bail.

You thought something like this happening would ease your guilt about the situation. But instead, you feel more lost than you have in a while.

Can you really spend the rest of your life without Rafe? Raise his child all on your own.

You hear a door open, and slam shut, Ward leaving the sheriff’s office with a look of annoyance.

He sits in the chair next to you, brushing his forehead with his hand before turning to you with a forced tight-lipped smile.

“How you holdin’ up?”

All you do is nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile back.

“We’re working on bailing him out. It might take a while, but we’ll do our best so he’s home before the trial.”

You decide it’s best not to say anything, unsure of whether you want Rafe away from you or with you. It’s been a battle of these feelings for the longest time now.

You just want it to stop.

“From what I can tell, the only thing they have on him is the weapon. All the DNA on the body was washed away in the ocean,” he explains.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye like he’s waiting for you to say something.

His casualty almost makes it seem like he’s aware that you’ve known about the murders longer than just today.

You’re not sure if it has to do with your calmness about the situation or if Rafe told him. If it is your calmness to blame, it’s really defeat that it’s being mistaken for.

“Thanks, Ward,” you quietly say. “I’m sure Rafe would appreciate this.”

“Well, it’s not just about Rafe. It’s about you too.”

You stare at him with a question in your eyes as you can feel your heart start to beat faster.

Is this about you helping Rafe?

“I want you to know you’re taken care of. That I always look out for my family. And you’re family, now more than ever.”

You squint your eyes still not understanding.

“Rafe told me you’re pregnant.”

You move your eyes to your lap before replying, “oh. We were going to wait to tell you.”

“I know,” he immediately says. “I know. I was supposed to act surprised when you told the family.” He chuckles a little. “But given the situation…”

He swallows, looking away for a second.

“I just know how much you need him right now. And whatever happens…I want you to know that I’m here for you. Rose is here for you. We’re all here for you.” He pauses, sincerity filling his eyes.

“I don’t want to say it, but if things don’t go the way we want with Rafe, I know leaving may seem like a good idea. But that baby is a light that will brighten the darkness that surrounds us now. We all need it. Even Rafe,” he adds.

Sometimes when you talk to Ward, it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.

Some people might like that. But not you.

You understand he’s Rafe’s father, but the fact that Rafe already told him about you being pregnant doesn’t sit right with you.

What else have they been talking about?

“It’s getting late. You should get home, get some rest. I’ll figure things out. I’ll get him home to you, Y/N.”

“Yes. Thank you, Ward. Try and get some rest too,” you tell him with a sweet smile that drops when you leave his sight.

When you get home, it looks like a tornado has been through it. All the time you’ve spent keeping it looking good has now been ruined by a bunch of men in uniforms.

You decide to ignore it all and go right to your bedroom, hoping to get the rest that your father-in-law was talking about.

When you see the state of it, you end up dropping your purse on the floor with a heavy sigh.

There is no rest in sight for you.

You start to tidy things up, putting clothes back in drawers, and fixing the pillows on the bed.

When the room looks clean enough, you head to the bathroom, finding everything scattered on the counter.

You quickly begin to put things back in drawers and in the medicine cabinet.

Until your thumb catches on a loose label on one of the pill bottles.

You think it’s one of the drugs that Rafe was prescribed a little while ago for headaches. But the label with the name of the drug is peeling back, another label under it.

You tear it off, brow furrowing when you see a name of a drug you don’t recognize. You find your phone and search up the name.

You can’t stop your bottom lip from trembling when you read what it’s for.

Why does Rafe need pills that put you to sleep, leaving you foggy and with possible memory-loss.

And why was he hiding it?

Tags:

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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strniohoeee · 11 months

Note

I NEED a pregnancy reader x matt smut

Gravid

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is pregnant and yearning for Matt after reading mommy to be books, and learning about her libido spiking….will he give in?😙

Warnings⚠️: SMUT BABES, it’s nothing crazy just sex while pregnant? Idk shit bout being pregnant, so I tried my best LMAOO

Song for the imagine: Baby Love- The Supremes

⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Matt and I had been dating for a good four years. We were both 21 now, and he and his brothers were super famous on YouTube. I always had a feeling they’d get bigger than they thought. I was there for every milestone, and when they hit 5 million subscribers we were so fucking happy

I was occasionally in videos, I preferred to stay out of them as those were his brothers lives, and not mine. However I would pop out here and there since we were 18. At first most fans thought we were friends until we were 20, and finally came out to say that we had been dating since we were 18. We got the expected comments half loving and half hating, but I didn’t care I was secure in my relationship.

However, Matt and I’s anniversary was a while back, and we had fun, LOTS OF FUN consisting of sex, sex and more sex.

But after two weeks I started to feel sick, and sore and just not right, so I decided to go to the doctor thinking it was the flu, or covid. What I didn’t expect was to find out I was pregnant… A WEEK AND A HALF PREGNANT.

I was shocked, but I also knew I wanted to keep this baby, and Matt and I weren’t always the most careful when it came to having sex. But he always told me if I got pregnant he’d take care of me with no questions asked.

I was currently 14 weeks pregnant, and I was showing, but not enough to really make people think. Especially since I dressed to hide my bump, and posed specific ways

The fans suspected nothing, and we didn’t want to say anything till I was almost due. Chris and Nick immediately jumped for joy and were always by my side if Matt couldn’t be. His parents and their brother Justin also supported me.

Mary-Lou and Jimmy would fly out like once a month to spend a few days with Matt and I. They were so excited to be grandparents.

I was reading a lot of what to expect when you’re expect type of books to prepare as best as I could. I was genuinely shocked at all the new information I was finding out

What I did read was starting at 14 weeks women experience a spike in there libido, and I kind of had a feeling because anytime I saw Matt I wanted to jump his bones

It’s called baby brain….we become different, and feral

Matt was out filming with his brothers and I was at home just doing nothing. I heard Matt come home, but I only heard him

He came into the bedroom

“Hey baby” he said putting his stuff down on his desk

“Hey Matt. Where’s Chris and Nick?” I asked

“They went shopping. They said that they wanted to buy some things for the baby” he said walking over and rubbing my little baby bump

“Aww that’s so nice of them. They don’t have to” I said looking up at Matt

“Yeah I know, but they wouldn’t budge they said there’s so many things they want to buy” he said sitting down to take his sneakers off

“They’re too nice I love them” I said as I rubbed my baby bump

Matt came over and laid next to me resting his head on his left hand while looking at me

“What’s my pretty lady been up to?” He asked

“I’ve just been reading these mommy to be books” I said pointing to a stack of books on the nightstand

“Find out anything good?” He asked

“Actually yes, our sex drive spikes at 14 weeks” I told him

“How far along are you?” He asked smirking

“Exactly 14 weeks today” I said winking at him

“Oh well then this must mean one thing” he said smiling at me

“It means you look so fucking hot all the time, I’m ready to jump on you when you walk through that door” I said

“Oh really?” He asked jutting (ew) his bottom lip out while pondering

“Oh yeah, and when you wear those whore outfits looking fine asf. I lose all self respect” I said giving him a kiss

“Oh baby, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself” he said kissing me

“So don’t. I want to fuck, and I want it now” I said sitting up

“Won’t I hurt the baby?” He asked

“Matt….. be for real right now. Do you think the baby got his hand hanging out of my cervix ready to high five your dick?” I asked laughing at him

“You’re such a weirdo with your explanations” he said laughing at me

“You will not hurt the baby. It actually says sex is usually more enjoyable when the woman is pregnant” I told him

“So then let’s find out” he said grabbing my cheek and kissing me

Matt laid me back down as he hovered over me kissing me, and then slowly going down to my neck leaving sloppy kisses

“Matt I missed this” I said sighing

“Me too baby” he said coming back up and kissing my lips

He removed his shirt and his pants, and then took my shirt, and shorts off

“You look so fucking hot pregnant” he said gently rubbing my bump

“Maybe after this one we can have another” I said winking at him

“Oh baby I’ll have as many as you want” he said kissing me

Matt had slid off my underwear before coming back up to kiss me, and massaging my breasts lightly because they were a little sore

As he was kissing me, he slowly slid his hand down to massage my clit

“Fuck baby you’re so wet, and I haven’t even done much” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt when I tell you everytime I see you, I need you…I mean it” I told him

“Fuck baby” he said before going back to rubbing my clit, and slowly inserting two fingers inside of me

“Oh fuck Matt that feels so good” I said moaning at the feeling

He kept pumping his fingers in and out of me, before finally removing them, and placing his dick at my entrance

“Ready baby?” He asked

“I’m ready” I said, and slowly Matt slid into me completely bottoming out

“Fuck baby please move” I moaned out to him

Within an instant Matt was thrusting into me at a good pace, not too hard and not too soft. It felt amazing, and his pelvic bone was rubbing against my clit allowing for extra stimulation

“Oh baby I’m going to cum soon” Matt said as he thrusted into me while kissing my neck

“Me too. This feels so fucking good” I moaned out to him

Sex with Matt was always amazing, but I think because of my hormones it felt extra fucking good. I was so fucking wet like the sounds coming from me were insane

Matt kept thrusting into me, and I couldn’t stop clenching down on him

“Fuck matt I’m going to cum” I said clenching down on him harshly

“Come on baby, cum for me” he said thrusting into me and rubbing my clit

“Oh fuckkk” I yelled out as I came so hard all over Matt, my whole fucking body was shaking and my breathing stopped

“Oh my god” I said coming down from my high breathing heavily

Matt soon pulled out, and came all over my lower stomach. He came down from his high, and immediately ran to get a wet rag

“Sorry…cumming on your baby bump feels wrong” he said laughing, and I laughed with him because he’s such a weirdo

“It’s okay you weirdo” I said laughing at him and sitting up

We cleaned ourselves up, and got dressed, and in queue we heard the front door open

“Look at that perfect timing” he said getting up from the bed, and we both walked out to the living room

“We’re BACKKKKK” Nick yelled as he walked in with a ton of target bags full of baby stuff

“Guys what is all this” I said looking at the bags

“Well we have to spoil our unborn niece or nephew” Chris said bringing in more bags

“YALL THIS IS CRAZY” I said as my eyes fell on at least 12 bags of baby stuff

“Listen we’re so excited you have no idea” Nick said

“Hmm” Chris suddenly stopped and looked at Matt and I

“What?” matt said

“I know what was going on here” he said smirking at us

“The fuck are you talking about?” I said

“My poor niece or nephew was getting scrambled….yall was fuckingggggg” Chris said

“The fuck?” Matt said

“Well…..y/n your hair?? And Matt your shirt is on inside out and backwards” Chris said laughing

“MATT” I said smacking him

“OH MY GOD” Nick said laughing

“Uhh sorry?” Matt said getting all shy

We just laughed at this awkward interaction, and then Chris and Matt gave me a haul of what they got me while explaining every single item, and how either they will use it, or how I will use it

The End

Once again I hope yall enjoyed, and for the person that requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint 🥰 also I would like to do a/n at the end of my stories, so if you have any like personal questions, you can ask them here, and I’ll answer them in the next stories endings or as a separate thread 🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #smut

343 notes · View notes

beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year

Text

Good Luck, Fermata Tower (18+)

pairing: fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader

genre: firewatch au LMAO, smut (MDNI), soo much angst, COMFORT, fluff

description: after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

warnings: this fic is a lot, please read ALL warnings. SUICIDE, implied suicidal thoughts, major character death 2x, reader goes through grief, so does seungcheol, AGE GAP, RADIO SEX??? LMAOOO, dirty talk, petnames, cockwarming, pentrative sex, strength kink, f. and m. masturbation (mutual?), PINING TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, MENTIONS OF DOING DRUGS/DOING SHROOMS, talks of drowning, if u know the game i think you'll be able to visualize the beauty of this way more, intensive writing on the scenery and the emotions, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASe

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "im getting out lana", "im just gonna be making animal sounds", "can we make this into a play so i can perform this?", "OF ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD MAKE ME CRY IT WAS THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS HOT ASS FACE"

wordcount: 13.9k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL. i love this fic. the writing is a little novelly for a fic, but i was so passionate ab this whole firewatch thing and i got SO INTO the arcs and their personal losses and i just really love yn and seungcheol. i hope this was worth the wait and i apologize for not finishing sooner. all my love, beefboy

You and Mingyu meet at college at some parkour club that you’d both joined to make friends. You face-plant into the pavement and knock out a tooth and Mingyu takes you to a nearby hospital. You click instantly.

You and Mingyu spend every moment together - you help him and he helps you. Mingyu is smart, you realize. He knows all the formulas in your mathematics course by heart. You tell him he’s smart and he says that no one else seems to think that.

You and Mingyu are best friends. You have matching necklaces that complete a heart.

You and Mingyu party together and when you get too drunk, he carries you down the halls, home. Sometimes at night he sleeps in your bed.

Your friend group thinks you’re dating, but you think you and Mingyu are something much more earnest than lovers. You think Mingyu is your soulmate.

You piggy-back ride Mingyu at graduation and you give him a peck on the cheek when he shakes hands with the dean.

You and Mingyu become roommates. You binge-watch terrible movies together and hold drinking games. It’s hard to admit some of your favorite memories are from watching the Alvin and The Chipmunks trilogy.

The night before it happens you and Mingyu eat dinner together that he cooked. You see his snaggletooth every time he smiles.

You’d almost lived together for two years that morning. He usually wakes earlier than you, but he is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is oddly still. You feel trapped.

You enter Mingyu’s room.

You think he’s asleep. You leave him alone.

Two hours later you grow worried. You enter his room to find him in the same position. You shake him. Mingyu doesn’t wake.

The doctors say a case like Mingyu’s is extremely rare - he was in great shape. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to make you feel better.

Mingyu’s funeral is grim. His death is so terrible, says the pastor, because it’s so domestic. You think it’s terrible because he is - was - the brightest, most amazing person to walk the earth. His parents want you to hold a speech, but you can’t find the words. You think you might sob if you go up there. You sob anyway. The flowers form a ring on the floor of the church and your soulmate is dead.

You can’t sleep anymore. You imagine him dying, left arm numb, alone in the dead of night and choking out your name, reaching for the thin wall that separated you. You cry for a whole month. The apartment is cursed so you live with your parents.

One day, you see an ad for a job in the paper.

You take it. _____________________________

“Hello?”

Static stormed the tower-house when the other end cut off.

“Are you there?”

Your eyes frantically darted around the cabin. It was no more than a 13 foot rectangle and yet your tired eyes couldn’t find the radio, churning out a gruff voice.

You’d just arrived, barely turned on the generator to allow light in. It was nighttime. The park’s dips and peaks were veiled in blue; the silhouettes of the trees, forking out in long, thin spikes, were navy and the lake Fermata was the brightest, glittering pearl from the moon above. Stars twinkled knowingly at you.

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side.

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you breathed out tiredly. You let go of the button and a small bit of static spoke back to you.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m in Bay Valley Tower. It’s to the east. Saw your light turn on,” His voice was gruff, laced with sleep. It had a rasp at every vowel, strings of vocal chords straining to spit out the words in between sticky ropes of bile.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. You had nothing else to say. The flimsy, one person bed beckoned to your tired body. You moved, like a doll, one limb at a time, into its harbor, collapsing into the thin mattress. You laid on your side, moonlight shining in from the window by the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, carelessly. Impatient in tone, you imagined he’d probably been through this a hundred times before. “So,” he sighed out, deeply. “What’s your problem?”

“Hm?”

There was a shooting star, dancing across the sky in that moment. You watched it, shuffling onto your back with half-closed eyes. Stardust sprinkled from it on the open, empty sky.

“People here are all running from something. So what’s your deal?”

You sighed, watching the star’s open path. It could go anywhere, you thought. Then you moved your arm, holding the receiver to your mouth.

“Listen, Seungcheol. I’ve been hiking for two days, so I’m gonna go to bed now, okay? Hopefully you’ve found some manners by the time I wake up,” you mumbled, then let go of the button (it had a harsh, grainy texture for some reason), and laid your hand, radio in it, limply at your side.

You heard a raspy chuckle from the other end. You had no energy to be angry.

“Alright, Fermata Tower,” there was a smile in the anonymous man’s voice.

There was a pause. The sound of the fierce breeze carried whiffs of autumn, as it lulled you to sleep. You had almost fallen into a black, snow-buried slumber when you heard the radio crinkle again:

“Fermata, do you see that shooting star?”

You had no energy to respond, radio spewing static in your open hand. Thankfully, Seungcheol seemed understanding.

“That’s good luck. So...”

A moment. You and Seungcheol watched the sky-dancer, apart.

“Good luck.” _____________________________

“You’re awake!”

It was Seungcheol’s voice. Transformed by the orange hues of daytime, he sounded much more alive than the night prior.

“I can see you sitting at your desk.”

Indeed you were sitting on your desk - a flimsy wooden thing, which looked like it had come form a yard sale - studying the map of the massive park. There were simple cartoonish figures to indicate stresses of trees and drops in the terrain, and rock quarries and waterfalls and lakes. You’d delicately pointed out your own position with red marker, scribbling ‘me’ by it with a heavy child’s hand.

It was cold - the thin boards did not do much to ward away the heavy wind, hooting creeping in the cracks. It smelled like pine needles and tea, as you’d just boiled a lavender on the kettle. IT sat, heating your fingers where it rested beside them in a mug left behind by the previous firewatchman (it read: “don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee”).

The radio clattered against the wood when you clumsily picked it up.

“Didn’t know when I signed up for this that I would be dealing with a stalker,” you joked, smiling small when you heard the man on the other end let out a hearty laugh.

“Hey, don’t go labeling me just yet, kid.”

“Kid?!” you said incredulously, dropping the marker that you had been so diligently using to scribble excellent comments on your map (latest was: “maybe cute bears”). “How old are you?!”

“I’m 37,” Seungcheol said.

“Oof.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, dropping your pen and leaning back in your seat. The view was beautiful. You could see the lake, surrounded by a rippling sea of trees, each top reaching for the sky, like you. “I’m 27, I’m getting up there with you.”

“Just a small decade.”

“I’m mature for my age.”

Seungcheol chuckled on the other end of the radio. You spun around in your chair (it creaked horribly - it sounded like a pig at the sight of a cleaver) surveying each square of the forest from your windows. You narrowed your eyes, trying to spot his lookout tower.

“How come you can see me but I can’t see you?” you mumbled, now standing to try and see, but it was drowned out by the sheer volume of pinewood. Seungcheol grumbled on the other end: “I should be East.”

“Yeah, fuck, I forgot to tell you, I think I dropped my fucking compass on the way here,” you ran a hand through your hair and frown.

“Uh, shit, you’re gonna have to pick up a new one, bud,” he said and you slumped. “Well, if you’re facing the lake - Fermata Lake, I mean - I should be to your left.”

You followed his instructions. You faced the lake, then took two loggy steps to face left, then squinted incessantly at the horizon. Not dissimilar to a crowd in Times Square, the trees stood toe to toe all across at every inch you spied. The pines zagged upwards like Giza, and culminated into the biggest mountain in the park, just under the sun. The mountain loomed overhead where you finally spotted the lookout tower, like a monster crouched over its prey. You tried to shake off the thought and focus on the lone, floating tower in the pit of pointy trees.

“I see you, Bay Valley,” you breathed into the radio.

The tower looked much more lonely from so far away. It was different when you were in it, but with the miles-long stretch between you two, you found it looked so small and feeble. You could make out the light turned on within it, a rectangle of burning orange. The shooting star must’ve crossed directly between your two towers.

“Attagirl,” Seungcheol smiles. “Do you see me waving?”

“No, what the fuck.”

“I got binoculars.”

“Ew, you are a stalker!”

“It’s for bird-watching!” Seungcheol informed you, offense in his tone. You cackled into the radio. “I like watching birds, thank you very much.”

“Jeez, can’t believe what this job does to people.”

“I liked bird-watching before I got this job,” Seungcheol said.

“You’re so white,” you grinned.

“I’m not even white!”

You and Seungcheol both laughed, joyous hiccups interrupted by bursts of static and 3 miles of rocky terrain and pine needles. You squint at the sun, traversing and dipping under the jagged hedges of the tree-line.

Your head lolled over to spot between the desk and doorway, where you’d dropped your orange backpack (a peculiar color, come to think of it - same color as the lifejacket they deploy on airplanes when everything has already gone wrong). Now it was flopped onto its side, zipper ripped open and knick knacks and crumbs at its mouth, spilling onto the floor.

“Where do I get a new compass?” you asked, looking at a yellowed book sat beside the backpack.

“Uh, shit, gimme a sec,” Seungcheol mumbled, and before his radio cut off, you heard, briefly, the itchy scrambling of papers, and the sound made him seem a lot more real. “We have these, uh, supply boxes scattered around. ‘M readin’ this, uhhh, fuckin’ info-thing.. Should say which of them supposedly has a compass.”

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.”

“Get off my ass, Fermata.”

You heard papers rustle again and a small bump before the radio cut off, as if he put the radio down on the table. You awaited, arms crossed over your pink and gray striped hoodie, and staring at sundown. Orange flooded the sky, as if it were all engulfed in flames and this was really hell.

“Uhhh, okay, I got it! There’s one down at Eleison Valley? The code is 1-2-3-4. That’s actually the code to all of them.”

“Secure.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, I can get some exploring done, at least,” you frown, spying a not-so-casual hike on the dotted surface of your map, when you tangoed back to the table, fiddling with the edge of the paper.

“Yeah. You should probably do it tomorrow though. Sun’s coming down.”

“Yeah. Can’t believe I slept that long.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it, kid. I was knocked out for, like, two days after the hike out here. It’s a miracle you’re already awake.”

“Thanks, Bay Valley,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat with some strained shuffling. You watched, eyes half-lidded as the sun fully disappeared behind the curtain of the park. Its light still roamed the sky, where it hid. Half dark blue, half red, the sky twinkled at you and your insignificance brilliantly. You tried not to think about how lonely and floaty your lookout tower must look from afar. Everything feels big when it’s close enough.

“You’re welcome, Fermata.” _____________________________

“You think I could eat any of these mushrooms, BV?”

“BV?”

“Bay Valley.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sighed on his end of the radio. You were trudging through the undergrowth in your new hiking boots, lifesaver-colored backpack on the plates of your back, weight pushing through the fabric of your jacket. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Damn it. Was gonna get hella high,” you joked, eyeing another cluster of snow-white mushrooms under the shade of a tree, sloping along a gnarly root. Your crunching steps in the loose dirt came to a halt - there was a dropoff. The cliff cut off like a broken chocolate bar and a sharp rockwall supported it to the next layer of earth.

The path was snaking down towards the lake. You’d circle around and climb up towards Tri Forks Tower, where eventually the climbing heights would bowl into Eleison Valley - a flower field, supposedly (in the map a little flower icon alerted you of this).

“If I die from this rockwall, please, tell my family I love them,” you grumbled, fetching an itchy, frayed rope from the depths of your backpack. Squinting at the high sun, pale drops of sweat forming around your forehead, you slung it over the hook. The park was littered with these - rusted old things that were leaning forward from years of heavy hikers’ tugging. This one was particularly bent.

“You’re so dramatic,” came Seungcheol from the speaker.

“Am not, man, these rocks are like fucking knives!”

“Such a drama queen. A real Primadonna.”

You huffed and puffed as you lowered yourself down the cliffside. Your boots pressed flat against the jagged rock, biceps burning as you held yourself up and walked down the side of it. The whole world was with you, sideways, and you would’ve stopped to appreciate it were you not sure you would pass out doing so.

“Holy shit,” you said to yourself when you were finally on stable ground and not spider-manning the mineral deposits of the park. You put your hands on your hips and squinted at its imposing open jaw.

“You down yet, Queen B?”

You panted, grimacing, when you tugged the rope hard and it leapt down like a flying snake: “Yeah, I’m down.”

You continued padding through the forest. The earth was dry and it was summer, but the wind was harsh and it cooled your stovetop-skin as you walked along a rock quarry, Fermata Lake hiding behind the covers of huge, flat bulwark. You listened to the cacophonous call of the forest: rustling leaves and birds.

“I had a friend - uh, friend of a friend, actually - who, like, got high as fuck off mushrooms and had a bad trip,” you said, mouth to the mic of the radio, as you studied the cover of the leaves.

“Yeah? What happened?” Seungcheol hummed.

“She said that, like -- fuck,” you breathed, scrambling over a particularly rocky rock. “She said there was, like, like her house flooded. Like, water just came gushing in and the whole house was, like, underwater suddenly and she.. She thought she was gonna drown. And her fuckin’ kitchen turned into, like, a coral reef or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Shit,” Seungcheol seemed much more alert now. You heard him put something down on his table (you imagined it was just as shitty as your own). “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It’s fucking crazy. Don’t do drugs, man.”

You turned past the quarry and was met with the sight of the huge, gaping hole of Fermata Lake. Strangely oval, the lake was flanked on all sides with thick pineland, except for a slight angle where grassy hills turned upwards towards Tri Forks Tower.

The water was much more green up close. Algae sloshed up the side of the gravel-earth, willing you into the murky depths.

You stared at it for a while. You thought maybe you could make out someone standing at the bottom of the bowl-shape.

“I’m at Fermata Lake,” you said then, and then started walking again.

“Good job! And you haven’t even died at a drop off yet,” Seungcheol joked and you laughed.

“God, you’re such a jerk. I bet you’re fuckin’.. Watching birds right now like a nerd.”

“Okay, rude-”

“Why don’t you go outside and be productive?”

“I’m looking for fires,” Seungcheol snarked back. “The binoculars are multi-use.”

You let the conversation die down for a bit, focused on the walk. It was peaceful when you let it be, but at times you came to feel like you were being swallowed alive, or like the looming figure of Aluralura Mountain was pressing its boulder-brawn in between your shoulder blades. The air in the forests was thicker, so you stayed persistent in your path, as you climbed up the clearings and spotted Tri Forks in the distance.

“Hey, uh, Y/n?”

The sudden intrusion of Seungcheol on the radio had you jolting, dropping the radio into the earth (thankfully it was fine - here the earth was softer and it dipped under your boot and water pressed out from the mull). You bent over and picked it back up.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” you scolded, wiping mud off the yellow plastic of the radio.

“Oh, uh, sorry..”

It was only then that you noticed a meekness in Seungcheol’s voice. You, of course, had not the furthest idea what he looked like, but he sounded like he was holding a knife behind his back. You furrowed your brows and stared down the radio, as if it would give you answers. There was dirt clamoring the yellow, where your fingers had held on.

“What’s up?” you said and sounded fakely bright.

“Well, I just-” he cut himself off with a cough, one that reached those stringent, thinning vocal cords and brought back the rasp. “I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I mean, when you came to the tower.”

You didn’t respond, only furrowed your brow and looked out across the sun-lit moor. There was a deer traversing across the grass.

“Uhm. Because. I was- I was kinda drunk, uh, when you came, and I know I was kinda pushy about, you know, why you came out here and all that.”

“OH!” you exclaimed and the noise ended in a laugh. “Please, Seungcheol. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.”

“Okay, good,” he mumbled.

The flower field came into view after climbing a particularly steep hill and it was a flower field - not just cartography myth.

It was all sunflowers and catmint - a huge, long stretch of purple and yellow splotches, stemming from green, untamed grass - stretching as far as you could see, disappearing into a hill at the far horizon. You were sure the smell of pollen went for miles, flowerdust sprinkling the air in heavy coats. The path you were following split the field in two, a dry, boring gravel streak, but you saw, faded from sunlight, a once deep, now light, ashy brown box at the right side.

“I found it!” you shrieked into the radio, a newfound strength gearing your legs into a sprint. “Fuck, yes!”

“Good job, Fermata!” there was a smile in his voice.

“Thank you!”

You were also smiling, when you went up to it. It was rectangular and made of planks, held together by a metal loop and a padlock. Like everything else, it was dirty and ravished, and you felt a faint worry at the sight of scratch marks on its side. You clicked in the code: 1-2-3-4.

The interior of the box was mostly empty. To your horror the first thing you saw was a porn magazine, which you did not dare to touch; then you saw a granola bar, which you did touch and stash away in your backpack, without any regard for how old it may have been; then came the compass, small and cheap metal and pointing out that you were, in fact, facing Northwest.

There was another item in the box. You did not initially see it, as it was taped to the interior of the lid, but when you raised your eyes, you saw it. It was a piece of paper - a note.

Grimacing, you ripped it off where it was blowing violently in the wind, holding it tight between your fingers and smudging dirt along the untainted white.

It read:

‘Hey, Cheol. If you head up the path there’s a family of raccoons! I left this granola bar here so you could feed them! From Jun.’

“Hey, Seungcheol?” you said absently, staring over the blue, scribbled ink, worn out from months of rainwater dripping in through the planks. He hummed on the other end of the line. “There’s a note here for you. From a, uh, Jun?”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that you couldn’t decipher - maybe you could have, had you been there with Seungcheol. Maybe if you could read his face, his body, you could’ve known what it meant. But for now you just stood in the breeze. It was picking up, getting angrier, hurling at your clothes and hair, banishing you from the field. The flowers dangled uselessly.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”

Silence.

“No, not really.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, who’s- who’s Jun?”

Silence.

“The guy who used to work in Fermata Tower. Before you.”

“Oh.”

Every second was longer than the last. You wish you knew what it all meant, but you sensed in Seungcheol’s curtness that he was not taking questions currently, and so you looked around the quickly graying sky and the suddenly spiteful wind and folded the note away in your jacket pocket.

“I’m gonna head back now,” even your voice was rocked by the wind.

Seungcheol didn’t respond.

You left Eleison Valley alone. _____________________________

This was where it was supposed to be - greatness. Not success, but something greater, larger, more alive than you could ever be. You thought you’d find it in the mountains, the valleys, the lakes and the forests and maybe that had been naive of you - to think that nature and earth could give any sort of meaning that death had taken away from you. These shadowed parts only served to make you feel smaller, you realized. The mountains glared at you, the forests swallowed and spat you out.

You couldn’t sleep. The image of Mingyu’s outstretched hand was back and you could almost see him from your flimsy bed, lying on his back with a tanned hand out for you. You left him alone, just like you always had.

Burrowed under the veil of your thin blanket, grabbing at it with clumsy hands, you turned your back to Mingyu’s corpse on your floor.

A prickle sauntered up your back. It was that emotion that something was creeping closer, something was out to get you. That you would feel a cool, dead hand on your back and when it would spin you around his face would be there, and he’d look nothing like himself; he’d be pale and purple around the mouth and his eyes would be sunken and dark and all the glitter he possessed - that he used to possess - would be gone and something menacing, like a hungry mountain, would have replaced it.

You thrashed, suddenly, to look back at the corpse. It was still there. Hadn’t moved an inch. Deja vu.

Thoughtlessly, desperately, you fumbled for the radio wrapped up the sheets of your bed. Your fingertips found the plastic hardware, and it bounced at your eagerness, before you pulled it along the sheets and up to your mouth.

“Seungcheol?” you gasped.

When did you start crying? You decided you must’ve been crying all night and maybe you’d cried so much that your brain had stopped registering the feeling of wet tears.

There was a pause. A long one. So long, you started to really become aware of the cries of the wind, the patter of the rain and the endless mumbling of the trees (and the gargled, bubbling blood rising from Imaginary Friend Mingyu’s half-open mouth). Then static spoke back to you:

“Yeah?” his voice was so raspy, you registered that you must’ve awoken him from his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your nails dug into the radio and you pressed it into your chest, holding on tight.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered, words full of shaky air. There was another pause and for a second you feared that Seungcheol might’ve gotten angry and gone back to bed. But he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” You heard rustling on his end, and you imagined him standing up from the bed, looking out at your lonely island of a lookout tower. “Do I need to trek over there?”

“No!- no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you protested, then trailed off.

“... Are you crying?”

You squeezed your eyes shut: “I just- d’you remember what I said? About my- my friend’s friend who- who had a bad mushroom trip?”

“Uh, yeah, I remember. Her- Her house flooded, right?” Seungcheol’s voice was tainted with thorough confusion, but not annoyance. Never annoyance.

“Well, I just-” you sputtered and sighed. You almost wanted to stop talking and give up when Seungcheol stayed quiet on his end and drew the words forward: “It’s so stupid. Sometimes I just- I just feel like that. Like you’re drowning, everywhere you go. You know?”

Your voice was stringent with nervousness, and you picked at your nail, wrapped around the radio in the shallow dark.

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart,” he mumbled. It was amazing to you how gruff and tough Seungcheol turned soothing and caring so fast. The nickname felt like a warm hug, and you almost didn’t register the sound of fabric rustling once more. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No!” you gasped sharply. Your eyes flickered down. Mingyu watched from the floor, eyes glazed over from death. He smelled foul.

“Can you.. Can you just- talk to me?” you whispered helplessly, and Seungcheol quieted down, seemingly weighing your proposal.

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you,” Seungcheol whispered soothingly, and for God’s sake, you didn’t even know what he looked like, but the rasp in his voice, and the comfort and warmth that sung out the speaker of the radio had your heart clenching in your chest. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Um, I don’t know,” you sniffled. Seungcheol only softened his voice and sat, awake in the middle of the night, comforting you.

“Can I tell you about birds?”

He told you about birds for 45 minutes before you fell asleep (something he had predicted would happen); he told you about how pheasants are known for their striking colors and how they have excellent eyesight; he told you how he saw a nightjar just before going to bed that night, and how they’re incredibly hard to spot; he told you about Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and how they’re the funniest little guys, and he loves them, because they glow purple in the sunlight; he told you about g…

Oh. You must’ve started dozing off. _____________________________

You weren’t sure when it changed, but at some point you looked out the window, and the mountain looked a lot more like yourself.

You were getting better, happier, you were waking up with more energy, you were bubblier. You weren’t entirely sure you could blame it on the park though. For two months you’d had your job and for about two months, every once in a while, you’d radioed Seungcheol at night, and without any question, he’d tell you about birds.

It sounded stupid the more you thought about it, but his voice lulled you into a comfortable sleep even on Mingyu’s most insistent nights.

You’d wake up and patrol your area, then you’d settle back in for a couple of hours, watching out for fire hazards and guests in the park, before you’d patrol one more time. Then you’d go to bed.

This was not the type of job you took to make friends, but somehow Seungcheol had become the reason you woke up everyday. Everyday you looked forward to walking through the woods with his voice on your radio, and you looked forward to making him laugh and him making you laugh.

“Seungcheol, I’ve got eyes on what I’m pretty sure is a Red-breasted Merganser, come in.”

This morning you were up extraordinarily early - for you, that is. You weren’t certain what exactly prompted this early rise (maybe you were finally sleeping right thanks to a certain rough-throated man?), but nonetheless you’d enjoyed the view of dawn along the undergrowth and had eaten half-warm oatmeal in bed with an open book. Now you were bored and craving the attention of your only forest-companion.

Seungcheol didn’t respond like you were expecting though. When the radio crinkled in response, you heard him panting on the other end and thumps, like he was picking it up off the floor.

“That’s… That’s great, Fermata. I’ve gotta get my.. My binoculars out,” he heaved for air and fumbled clumsily with the sensitive mic. You cringed at the sound.

“What are you doing? Why are you so out of breath?” you asked. A twinge of worry slipped out in your tone. Was he okay?

“I’m, uh, working out,” Seungcheol chuckled, and he seemed to finally regain composure, clearing his throat sheepishly. “You’re not usually awake to hear it.”

“You work out every day?”

“Sure do - gotta be prepared to knock out a grizzly,” he grunted.

You leaned back in your seat, a less than amused expression on your face, because a twirling strand of fire danced up your chest and settled into your cheeks. Why was it suddenly so hot? Fire spread across your nerve endings and twinged you red in the apples of your cheeks. You ran your hands over your face to soothe the sizzling.

This was ridiculous, you thought. Seungcheol was not making you blush. You didn’t even know what he looked like! He might as well have had an eye patch and a mohawk. But even as you halfheartedly scrutinized yourself, your thoughts clouded over the idea of sweet, attentive, raspy Seungcheol with big arms and thighs and a sculpted chest and-

“Are you- are you, like, buff?”

The question left your lips before you could stop it. Your voice broke halfway through the sentence and you let go of the button with an embarrassed hiss, like a kettle huffing out air. The embarrassment, that was potent and squeezing at your chest, worsened when you heard Seungcheol’s throaty chuckle on the other end, limp and dry.

“You’re curious today, aren’t you?” he mused then, smirk clear from the tone and pronunciation of the words, and you squeezed your eyes shut because why was his voice and the thought of him and the warmth coming through the radio speaker suddenly bothering you so much?

The truth was you hadn’t masturbated in months. With everything going on, you simply hadn’t felt the urge or the want. But, it occurred to you, now that you were slowly becoming a functioning human once more, the urge was returning hot and fast in your core, and, of course, your only companion with the raspy voice and the attentive words and the apparently muscly body was bringing forth this urge with ease.

You pressed down the urge, taking a deep breath before you pressed the button once more. You were not going to masturbate to the thought of Seungcheol - not Seungcheol who you only knew by voice, who had been nothing but caring and sweet to you. You could not corrupt the preciousness of your companionship with your lewd, depraved thoughts.

“I’m just curious what you look like. Unlike you, stalker, I don’t have binoculars!” That sounded a lot more like the you that had not just gotten wet at the thought of Seungcheol’s bulging muscles.

“Hey! The power of the binoculars is limited. I can only really see your silhouette, nothing fancy,” he defended and then right as you were about to respond, he knocked the wind out of you again: “And yes, I’m pretty buff, if I do say so myself.”

Ugh.

You went the rounds that day and got through another day without having to complete fire protocol, ending out the evening with a pack of instant noodles your family had so graciously sent you (Seungcheol scolded you: “That has no nutrients!”). However each step through the forest and each slurp of noodles and page of your book was plagued by the latent fire inside you. A burning occupied your abdomen fueled by the echoing morning voice of Bay Valley Tower.

By nightfall you gave in. You were only a girl. This didn’t have to change anything, you thought, as the park turned plum purple. You settled into bed in your pajamas, sitting upright against the frail wood wall and letting your hair bunch on the rattling plate of glass. Your eyes moved to and fro, bouncing over the now lived-in cabin and taking in the dark void of the farest corner.

Briefly, you fiddled with your radio in your palm. You could call Seungcheol and- wait, why would you do that? No, no. You packed away that wicked thought - it only served to make you feel more guilty. No, instead you slid down the wall to lay in your pillow, now positive you were alone.

An owl hooted outside and you slipped your hand into your underwear.

It was surprisingly easy to surrender your consciousness to the lust (and you had, God bless your soul, stayed wet throughout the entire day). It clouded you over, as you began rubbing up and down your pussy, ghosting over your clit to dip down to your glazed slit. Your eyes squeezed shut and you conjured your best doll-replica of Seungcheol.

In your dream he was a faceless mist, but he had a carved upper body, and from the fog surrounding his head spewed his voice - dripping in warmth and comfort, as you imagined it was his toned arm reaching between your legs and pumping into you.

Your other hand snaked down to your clit, where your hips canted off the bed. In the whirl of thrusting into yourself and rubbing tight circles in your clit, you realized, lip bitten raw under your prying teeth, that there was no reason to hold back your moans. It was only forest and wasteland for miles - and surely Seungcheol would not hear you in his floating snow globe.

“A-ah, Seungcheol,” you wantonly murmured, burying your head in your pillow and sighing lazily. A flush had crept up your neck, where your chest expanded to allow for air. The pleasure was immense - probably more intense, since it had been quite a while - warmth spreading in your lower stomach and culminating at your throbbing clit. Recklessly, you moaned and thrashed as you fucked yourself on your fingers, hiking towards your orgasm. “Seungcheoool-”

“Y/n?”

You froze.

Maybe you’d imagined it. Still, your fingers were stopped in their tracks, simply resting on the warmth of your folds, itching to continue. You sat up in bed and tried to ward away the creeping panic. Your heart began to gallop to the beat of a siren.

The air had been starched when you finally pulled your hand out of your underwear, hot cheeks and glistening hands all over, when you began searching for the radio.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You had your back hunched over the edge of the bed, searching for the little yellow receiver, when his voice came again in a thick forest of static. You snapped your head to under your comforter, where the noise was slightly muffled.

In a blurred panic, you threw the comforter off of you and spotted the small radio by your calf, and you scrambled to pick it up. When the dirty plastic touched your cheek, you stopped, sighed a shaky, hot breath, and closed your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. What’s up?” you let go of the button and cringed at your own disheveledness, the breath and shake in your voice. You pressed your forehead radio-front in a silent prayer.

There was a hesitance to Seungcheol when he spoke next: “... You were calling for me, you sounded in pain?”

This was certainly the worst thing he could’ve said. You would’ve rather he told you he spotted a bear at the foot of your tower, trying to eat you! You must’ve accidentally kicked the radio and hit the button, you decide, and you damn yourself for keeping it in the bed - of course, shit like this would happen!

“I was…-” (If only you were a better liar), “- pranking you…”

Seungcheol huffed out in amusement on the other end and you wanted to jump off the railing to the lookout tower and break your neck. “You were pranking me?”

You gulped with a decidedly dry mouth. “It was a bear attack prank.”

Seungcheol was smiling: “Yeah?”

You were not: “Yeah.”

There was an entropic silence, where you thoughts came rambled and pleading in your head: Please, just let this go, please, just let this go, let’s pretend it never happened, let’s-

“You wanna know what I think you were doing?”

Seungcheol’s voice had dropped an octave. The smile in his voice was gone and there was something menacing and commanding about him now. In the moment, overcome with a cocktail of guilt and shame, you could not discern if this was anger or lust - the first seemed fitting.

“I think you were fucking your little fingers thinkin’ about me,” he hummed and in response you whined and squeezed your eyes shut. The shame encapsulated you. “Shh, shh, calm down, I’m not mad, honey.”

Blinking through rapidly forming tears, you opened your eyes to stare, dumbfounded, at the radio (as if it were Seungcheol and you were not several miles apart). “Really?”

“Not mad at all. Jus’ think you should’ve told me if you wanted my help,” he tutted on his end and, God, he was so nurturing and comforting and he knew it, and it was so sexy. Your pussy, which had vaguely throbbed from the negligence throughout, was now screaming for your attention, hole clenching sadly around nothing.

“I thought you wouldn’t want-”

“You’re crying again, baby,” he must’ve noted from the hoarseness of your voice and the sniffles that accompanied every syllable.

“Just want you so bad,” you sobbed, now shamelessly slipping your hand back into your underwear and sighing dazedly in relief when you touched it again.

“Need Seungcheol to take care of you, huh?” The smile in his voice was back.

“Yeah.”

“Bet you don’t want me talking about birds now, hm?” he chuckled (at his own joke), voice low and raspy. “Are you touching that pretty pussy?”

“Mhmm,” you responded lazily, floating high on the sound of his voice and jolts of electricity they sent as you worked up a pace on your clit once more. The pain of the interruption ebbed away.

“Good girl, hm?” He knew. “Getting off to the sound of my voice, eh? Don’t even know what I look like.”

“Hng- k-know you’re b-buff,” you gritted out, voice coming in sharp breaths. Your body moved languidly, back arching off the bed and hair coming out in choppy strands on your pillow. Seungcheol scoffed out a laugh: “Like knowing I could just fold you in half? Fuck you into tomorrow? Hm?”

You let out a loud, dumb whine of his name. It was a total inability to get over his words; how melodious it was, and yet, how contradictory the smoothness of his words were to the strained nature of his thrumming voice. And the worst of it all was how confident he was - you supposed hearing someone else masturbate to you would be a confidence boost - and how the arrogance swelled out in the most comforting, nurturing way. Each word felt like a hand on your body, like a caress that sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, princess, say my name like that again. Please.”

“Seungcheol!” you obliged mindlessly, legs shaking on either side of your glistening hand.

“Shit, I-” he grunted, and you heard a fumbling of fabrics on his end. Your nerves spun in excitement at the thought of him getting hard at your voice. “Can you put two fingers in the pretty pussy - it’ll feel like one of mine, baby.”

You cried out when your fingers entered yourself, pads of your fingertips rubbing against your walls. Outside of the windows, the park was an empty wasteland of mauve and orchid, and the Fermata lake was brilliantly alive and dipping under the three-quarter-moon.

“Wish it was your pussy wrapped around my cock right now,” he grunted, and he’d lost breath and composure and if you knew what his face looked like, you would imagine it sweaty and twisted up and a red-lipped ‘o’ letting the jaw slack.

Resuming your earlier motions (double-handing your own kitty), you felt your orgasm lurking in the pit of your stomach, a tight-wound knot being ripped apart. You were panting into the cool air, creating silver-clouds in your tower-home. “A-ah, want you inside me so bad, Cheol- shit! Gonna- gonna cum-”

“Yeah? You gonna cum thinking about my cock inside you baby? Thinkin’ about me just bouncing you up and down like my little fuckdoll?” His speech ended in the prettiest moan you’d ever heard, and you imagined every well-defined, flexed muscle under the moonlight and the thought had your whole body jerking and shaking and when you closed your eyes the stars stayed with you, white and glimmering under your eyelid.

The strangled moans of your orgasm sent Seungcheol over the edge - at least from what you could tell. His dirty talk turned into strings of curses and moans and grunts until the radio went dead, and all you could hear was your own labored breaths and the faraway hooting of a horned owl.

The silence flatlined the excitement into nervousness. Your lip was almost automatically caught in your teeth and you glanced over the radio beside you through your lashes.

Oh shit. What the fuck had you done?

“Uh, did you-” the smell of sweat shot up as you shuffled in your sheet to grab the radio once more. “Did you, uh, cum?”

Oh fuck. You just made it way worse.

The silence from the radio was much louder than any response, but when the receiver did finally crinkle with static, the sound of laughter exploded from it.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, BV,” you scolded, but you were smiling and relief flooded you like water overflows Fermata Lake during heavy downpour.

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped on the other end. “It’s just-.. ‘DID YOU CUM?’”

“Alright, I’m going to bed now. You suck,” you quacked, and even though you were alone you thought to suppress the gentle tugging at your lips into a sharky smile.

“DID YOU CUM?”

He sounded pretty when he laughed. _____________________________

“I can’t believe I have to hike down here to confiscate some fireworks.”

Your grumble came from the forest beside Fermata Lake. You were walking down a patch of dirt revealed from years’ of trampling feet, dewy sprigs of grass arching into the mud. A group of (presumably) teenagers were firing fireworks down near the edge of your assigned territory.

“They’re a fire hazard!” Seungcheol squawked obviously, and you huffed in your boots, preparing to climb down a rocky slope.

“I know that! It’s just everywhere - the website, the signs - don’t use fireworks!” you complained. Seungcheol hummed absently on the other line: “Go teach those suckers a lesson, Fermata!”

“I will,” you said, agitated.

“Just don’t fuck with their personal belongings. Last thing we need is a lawsuit. Again.”

“I won’t,” you said, deflated.

Even in your most angered moments, you could hand yourself over to the gentle forest. No longer were you protruding into a bubble, straining to get through a barrier that was urging you out, but you were absorbed into it, like you were one of its own.

The forest was lush with pines and brown and green moss painting bark and rocks, and the grass leapt higher than your knees, as you trudged further and further in.

SWOOOOSH!

A firework propelled into the sky about 100 meters away, and you watched its ignited trails of smoke before it exploded into a fest of sparkling blue and gold. You huffed out in anger at the sight. The sky wasn’t even fully dark - it was merely a muted blue evening.

“Did you see that?” Seungcheol came from the radio-speaker.

“Yeah, I’m right with them.”

As you padded closer the smell of wet pine cones and coltsfoot accompanied the sound of distant voices - indeed, they sounded juvenile. You could make out at least two girls and at least one boy, although their voices were hard to distinguish, the way they echoed in between the grid of trees.

“Hey!” you yelled, as you creeped just close enough. Their voices hushed and you saw their frightened faces lit by handheld, Target-bought flashlights when you peeled back the screen of a bramblebush. They were gathered together amongst a tent, flashlight lighting the plates of the faces ablaze in cool white.

“Cut it out with the fireworks, alright?” you huffed and your anger melted a little when you saw that they were indeed just kids - maybe 19? They seemed to have nothing to say, and so you scanned the beer cans and the scattered backpacks and finally caught sight of a bundle of rockets in the grass. Your brows furrowed, and you picked it up with a sternness.

“Hey, that’s ours!” one kid chimed, but he made no move to stop you, really, as you trudged angrily back to the bush you had come from.

“Not as long as you’re in our park, man. It’s a fire hazard.”

“We’ll take them back home-”

“Goodnight!” The desperate plea fell on deaf, tired ears. You just wanted to eat dinner, so you disappeared out on a trail of pine needles and valiantly ignored the trail of curses and insults following you. You could care less.

“I got the fireworks, Seungcheol,” you sighed tiredly and your eyes were dark pits and your face was relaxed, if only to conservative energy.

“Good job, Fermata.”

You were not in the talking mood. Maybe Seungcheol could tell by your tone of voice; maybe he could hear it in your sigh; but Seungcheol piped up again: “You know, if you need some energy for the hike back, there’s a supply box - uhh, 52? - if you head upwards instead of towards Fermata Lake.”

You wanted to be grumpy, you really did, but the thought of a salivating, expired, delicious, out-of-date granola bar had you changing course to the slowly gaining hill of the forest.

It was weird. This was probably the closest you’d ever been to Seungcheol’s tower. Under the prickly cover of pine some mile in the distance, you could see a glowing square, perched over the treetops by long, wooden pillars, support beams crossing the middle. You couldn’t help but wanna go up to it. There had been an unbearable magnetic pull to his tower ever since that night however long ago. You decided to stay the course for Supply Box 52.

“I can practically see you from here,” you commented, and the tower was becoming a beacon as the evening mulled darker and darker by the minute.

“Really? Hang on,” he did not let go of the radio-button, and so you had the pleasure of listening to the ruffling of fabrics and thumps on the floor. “Can you see me flexing in the window?”

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, and the sound bounced off the pines and traveled up to the rock of the nearby Aluralura Mountain. “No, I’m not quite that close.”

“Damn it!”

“Yeah, it‘s a real shame,” you muttered, smiling, and then you caught sight of the supply box up ahead. The hill flattened out once more (to which you breathed a sigh of relief) and the box was perched on the edge facing the path that began onto the cliffs. This was Seungcheol’s territory - cliff sides and all. “I think I see Supply Box 52.”

“Open that bad boy up.”

You entered the code, scrolling the mechanisms one by one until the numbers read 1-2-3-4 (you still thought this combination was ridiculous), and when you opened the lid it creaked horribly, worn from the weather.

The wind was harsh that day, and a note, identical to the one you’d found at Eleison Valley, broke off its tape from the mean pushes of the wind. Instinctively, you grabbed it as it started to fly off, and your hand closed around it and crinkled it under your fingers. You looked at it with knitted brows.

Wordlessly, you tucked it in between your side and your arm, redirecting your attention to the goodies in the supply box. 52 held a rope and a map and another directory for supply boxes and, to your exhausted delight, a box of grandma-looking caramels. You took the whole thing and stuffed it into your bag.

As you shuffled, you put the note between your lips, stuffing the plastic container of gold-wrapped, sugary candies in between your rope and your own map and a coat for possible rain. When you zipped it up, the fabric of the bag warped grotesquely to fit the various items you’d brought.

You pulled the note back out from your lips. A small wet patch of spit lingered on the paper, as you unfolded it.

It read:

‘Hey Seungcheol,

If you find this, I gotta go be with my mom now. I’ll miss you forever.

From Jun.’

The wind blew kisses on your back like the presence of a ghost.

“You find anything good?” Seungcheol’s voice peeked through the static of the radio. It had been quiet for a while. You couldn’t take your eyes off the letter. The ink was smudged and slurred.

“Uh, caramels, actually,” you said, eyes dancing over each slope of ‘forever’. “Like, granny caramels.”

You put the letter away. _____________________________

A week later and you were looking out of the window at pouring rain. The sky was smothered by a duvet of dark gray clouds, and the rain was coming harder than you’d ever seen. It was like thousands of bullets pelting into the ground and turning it soft and muddy, and the drops hit your roof like the nonstop click of a keyboard.

"Rainy season, huh?” your mouth was to the radio.

“Yeah. We’re gonna be staying up all night to watch out for lightning. Fire hazard.”

“Shit, I should make coffee.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

The lightning came and thunder followed. The sound was enormous and terrifying. It grumbled like a hungry beast and the sound bounced off of every mountain-wall and echoed from all sides. You felt very small, wrapped up in a blanket at your desk, a steaming cup of coffee by your side and your fire extinguisher evacuated from its holder to stand beside you, all red and shiny aluminum and rubber nozzle.

“Did that look like it hit a tree?” you asked after seeing a zig-zagging bolt of lightning hanging a little too low over the crowns. Your voice was louder than usual - this night was a game of overpowering the screaming rain. It was some 1 AM.

“Uhhhhh, shit. Maybe. We’d see the fire, but it’s possible it’s at the root.”

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Was that yours or my area?”

“Uhhhhh-”

“I’m gonna check it out.”

Determined, you let the radio fall on the table, as you fumbled for another sweater. The knitted fabric slipped over your other sweater, and then you were wrapping yourself up in your raincoat.

“Maybe I should go - it’s slippery right now, it’s dangerous as fuck. You could fall and hit your head, you know. I think it was closer to me anyway, so--”

“Seungcheol, I already have my coat on, I’m going!”

And indeed you were going, despite the grumbled protests of Seungcheol. Your coat blew in the hurricane wind as you stood atop the cliff, looking down at the cascading water, that’d all race down to the sinkhole that was Fermata Lake. Through the clouds, there were no stars to trade glances with, not even ghosts.

You fought headwind the entire way, your hair flowing wildly and your coat threatening to unbutton at the will of the blasts. The ground under your rainboots had become mud and the further you trudged into the forest, the more the mud crept up your yellow shoe, slinging over you like liquid ropes.

“I’m going down the drop off again!” you were screaming to overpower the wind, radio to your mouth before you dropped it into your pocket and retrieved your bag to regather your rope.

“Be careful!” Seungcheol commandeered bitterly, muffled from your pocket. “It’s slippery as shit! Radio me immediately when you’re down, so I know you’re okay.”

Even as your face grew wet and sore from the whipping rain, you scoffed. A gloved hand shoved into your pocket, brought the radio back up to your red lips: “Stop being such a pussy!”

“Say yes, Y/n!”

You rolled your eyes. “Aye, aye.”

“... I’ll take that, asshole.”

Wet as a wipe, you slung your rope over the hook and prepared it in a slew of motions you’d by now memorized. Although, you noted your movements were awkward, somewhat impaired by the layers of fabric that encased you. Stubborn, you stood before the hook, grabbed onto the rope, and began walking backwards.

Your booted foot curled around the edge of the cliffside, and with the tightened rope you began your careful horizontal walk. Raindrops pelted your face like a clenched fist, but you only blinked away the water and tried to focus on stepping carefully down the side of the rockface.

KRRRRRRRRKKKKKK!

You screamed girlishly when your rope snapped from the hook, and you watched it come flying out over the ledge, before you realized, horrifically, you were already falling.

It was barely a second, just one blurry image of the weeping sky, before you were on the ground, groaning in pain. A pulsing ache creeped up your spine, and you twisted your body in the mud to put the weight on your side. You sighed into the mud, dirt on your squished cheek.

The rain was uncaring of your unfortunate situation, as you laid pathetically in the dirt, body scrunching up like an elastic, while your shadow was cast by sudden bursts of lightning. Panting, you pushed yourself up by your arms and felt blindly for your-

Where was your radio?

Your pocket was deflated and empty, and you scrambled in the dirt, desperately, pushing yourself up completely to scan the area. You noted how the pain subsided into a small, dwindling soreness, thanking whatever God for your layers of clothing and the softness of the earth.

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision, aided by another strike of lightning atop Aluralura Mountain. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side.

“Hello? Seungcheol?”

There was no static to indicate your message had been relayed, and the usual red digital numbers telling you what channel you were on was gone, a simple, black screen remaining, mirroring your muddied face, twisted in anguish.

“Fuck this,” you hissed, standing up on two legs. You looked back up to where your lookout tower was still ablaze, a yellow box in the heights. The rope was fucked. You had to go down anyway. Huffing, you started walking.

You marched through the undergrowth, crossing through unpathed forest to reach the destination. It was near a hollow marked on your map, and so the expedition, although scarier, more empty and dark without Seungcheol's warm voice, was mild.

Wet petals brushed your face from rows of bushes, and even through your gloves the cold left your fingertips numb. You sniffled in the dark.

You found the hollow, then you found the tree. There was, indeed, ash going up the side of it, seemingly stemming from a smaller bush in the clearing, but the fire had been long put out by the insistent rain, and partially you felt disappointment that you’d trekked all the way out here, only for there to be no real danger.

Heavier than ever, you turned your gaze to the glowing hut in the distance.

You almost wanted to go back to your own hut, to turn your back to Seungcheol’s glowing tower and forget this ever happened. The anticipation of seeing him - of him seeing you - was a tall wall to overcome. But, you realized, not only was his tower closer; you also needed help.

Your radio was fucked, your rope was fucked and moreover, you needed to be sure you hadn’t done irreparable damage to your back. With water dripping over the ledge of your hood, you began walking towards Seungcheol.

Rainwater cascaded off the edge of the trees and the consistent dashed dots looked like tiny glass orbs in the light of Bay Valley Tower. It was intensely quiet for a while - it seemed like every bush-tailed critter of the forest had scuttered away to hide from the rain and the echoing growling of the sky.

“Y/n!”

You were so tired you almost could’ve missed it. Each layer of fabric weighed you down and the dirt smearing your cheeks and hands and fabrics could’ve melted you right into the earth. But indeed, a voice - so familiar it almost hurt - was calling to you in the dead of night.

“Seungcheol?” your first call was not a call, but a whisper, as you peered into the thick grooves of the forest. Then, your senses returned to you and you screamed as loud as you could: “Seungcheol!”

“Y/n!”

You and Seungcheol called for each other, syllables echoing off the huge, towering presence Aluralura Mountain. Getting closer and then closer, and then you could see the figure of another raincoated person, shaded by a hood.

“Y/n? Oh, thank God!” He ran to you, swimming in the rubber of his red coat and pink lips peeking over the closed hood.

It was a little paralyzing. He was so beautiful, you didn’t even know which speck of his shadowed face to look at. Tan, wet skin and big eyes from which the longest, blackest lashes you’d ever seen sprung. Most notable were his fuzzy, blocky eyebrows sitting over his brown eyes, fine wrinkles springing from the corners (you’d like to think you’d helped create some of those). His lips were big and bright and pouty, but it was wiped away when he smiled at the sight of you, and you could die, because a dimple indented itself in his cheek at the motion.

“Are you okay?” his smile faded when you said nothing, only stared at him, and then stared at where his thick fingers wrapped around your arm. He leaned into you and God, you hadn’t seen him before this very moment, and now he was leaning over you and he was so close and he smelled like pinewood, and you were pretty sure you smelt exactly the same.

You lowered yourself from your daze, trying to follow the pattering of rain atop both of your hoods. “Uh,” you gulped, finding his eyes, “yeah, I jus’... I thought you were joking when you said you weren’t white.”

His laugh. His laugh was even prettier in person and it had the same rasp and the same disapproving hint to it that it had had at all your other jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Fermata?”

“Bird watching is crazy, man.”

He smiled and studied your face for a moment, still leaned over you and thoroughly ignoring the rain and the thunder and the dirt on your boots. Then the smile faded, just a little: “What happened to your radio?”

“Oh- oh my God! Do you- do you remember my first day? The drop off! I fuckin’- fell down, my rope came undone on the hook! My radio was knocked the fuck out, it was crazy, I’m gonna need a new one-”

“Are you okay? You fell?” Seungcheol’s strong eyebrows became furrowed and the sight was so utterly mesmerizing to you. You waved him off: “I’ll be fine, please, I just want to get out of this weather.”

Seungcheol did not seem to entirely believe you, but nonetheless he grabbed your hand - in his own rough, used one - and started leading you upwards (“If I don’t hold your hand, how can I be sure you don’t fall down another drop off?”).

Time was not as agonizingly slow by his size, and the tower seemed to propel towards you and the hands on your wristwatch seemed to move backwards. Not before long, you were climbing up the stairway with Seungcheol’s iron fist on your wrist, so as to prevent you from falling down something else (you had a feeling that he would not let this go).

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” grumbled Seungcheol when you arrived.

“Yes, please,” you murmured. Your coat was folded beside you, starry raindrops soaking into a blanket thrown over his bed.

It was warm in Seungcheol’s tower house - he had half a brain to put an electric heater in the corner of the room, unlike you - and it was only the sudden embrace of warmth that had you looking out into the park and realizing you would have frozen to death if you’d stayed.

There was a warm glow from a naked bulb in the ceiling (you guessed Seungcheol had put it up himself), an old rug full of sand-corns, and a shelf with various books. Seungcheol also had a small kitchen, a desk and a bed, just like you. The layout was exactly the same, but sitting down on Seungcheol’s bed, you noted he must’ve made some alterations. Your fingers pulled at the white of the mattress - it was his own and it was much softer.

When the electric kettle (a rusted, iron old thing) was cooking, Seungcheol turned to you sheepishly and unzipped his coat. You waited in secret anticipation for his supposedly smoking-hot bod, but were disappointed to see another sweater underneath it.

Seungcheol stopped the kettle and took two large mugs from his cupboard. These, he placed on a carved tray (you thought he might have made it himself from pinewood), and then from a small, wooden tea box on his countertop, he produced two bright yellow tea packets, which he gently placed in the mugs. Then he poured in the water, steam traveling up to open his pores and whatnot.

“Do you want anything in yours?” he asked, not really looking.

“Uhm. No, no, thank you,” your hands were folded in your lap.

He only grunted in response and left one tea untouched, then took a clear, plastic container of honey from an array of unrefrigerated condiments, and squirted half the bottle into his tea. He sniffled when he was done, grabbing the tray and turning to you. Tonight, Seungcheol was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can you-?”

“Hm?”

“That little- little table over there-”

“What?”

“Can you grab it?- For- for the tray?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

The tea sat on the tray and the tray sat on the foldable table and you and Seungcheol sat before them on the edge of his bed. You took the hefty mug in your hand and took a slurp, looking over at him from the rim. Seungcheol looked at you awkwardly. He did not move for his tea.

“I should take a look at your back,” he said.

“What? Why?” you quacked disapprovingly. “You fell on it,” Seungcheol reminded you.

You shook your head silently. “I like your hut. It’s way better than mine.”

“I’ve been here longer,” Seungcheol shrugged. You looked at him and he seemed displeased - this would not have been a big deal were you speaking to him on the radio, but his aura was much more commanding in person - something about his eyes, you thought. You had to look away, settling on your mug again (there was a cartoon dog on it).

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmured. Seungcheol stared into the side of your face and his obvious concern for you weighed down at your muscles.

A gentle pause where rain pattered his roof.

“Are you okay?”

You glanced over, nervously: “Tired.”

He bit his lip: “Maybe I should’ve made coffee... Can we put instant coffee in tea?”

“Seungcheol, I wanted to ask you something,” you said and put your mug down on the tray again with a small ‘clink’. Seungcheol rubbed his hands over his trouser-clad thighs, nodding, maybe more nervous than you. The warm glow of the bulb made him even prettier and all was warm and dry in the hut, even though rain was falling down in thick curtains just outside by the troughs. “It’s just..” you began, “you’ve been so avoidant about this.. Jun guy..”

Seungcheol’s sigh interrupted you before you could finish: “He was just the guy that worked here before you.”

“I found another letter.”

Seungcheol’s furrowed expression softened and he looked at you with big, glassy brown eyes, hidden under a waft of choppy bangs. What was that in the shine of his pupil? Fear? Vulnerability? Sadness?

“It was about- it said he was gonna go be with his mother and that- that he would miss you,” you explained and your voice was snotty and throaty, and your eyes averted to a folded napkin beside a half-eaten slice of bread. A fly circulated it hungrily.

Seungcheol’s lips made a tight line, dimples poking out pathetically. He cleared his throat and you heard the strain in his vocal chords once more (and it was so real because there he was - right beside you).

“Me and Junhui came here together. We’d just finished college and we didn’t want-.. We didn’t want to be adults yet. Like, an office job, wife and kids,” he began and there was a tremor about Seungcheol tonight. “I don’t think he was made for a job like this though. I think the loneliness got to him.. Think he just lived with it ‘cause he could tell I liked it.”

You nodded along until he wasn’t speaking anymore. Then a thick silence absorbed the two of you, a patch of moss drowned in the downpour.

“His mom was dead, so..” he whispered. Tears gathered at his waterline like a string of stars. “So, yeah, he went to.. To be with her.”

“I’m so sorry, Seungcheol,” you whispered and the echoing whispers of the storm bouncing off the rock faces of Aluralura mountain beckoned your hand onto his woolen sleeve. “I had no idea.”

“They never found his body, you know? He’s just out there, somewhere,” both you and Seungcheol turned your heads out to the pitch black expanse of the massive park. Your mind wandered to every crook and crevice you’d seen out there, wondering if a dead body had hidden behind a quarry rock. “Fuckin’ terrified I’ll find him one day. Just… Rotten.”

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say? Even though you’d stood in a similar situation - losing a friend - you couldn’t find anything that could ease his pain, the pain that was now tinting the light blue and dulling the sound of the rain. The whole room was pulsating. Luckily, it seemed Seungcheol had something more to say. You watched his lips pucker as the words tried to leave his tongue, then watched them draw back.

“He used to.. He used to say this thing. It reminded me so much of what you- you said that night about, uhm, your friend’s friend. He used to say that- that sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d just be.. Totally.. Convinced that he was at the bottom of Fermata Lake and he was drowning,” Seungcheol’s voice broke one too many times and his jaw clenched. “God, I was so worried. Jus’ thought I couldn’t- I couldn’t be the reason that happened again.”

“I…” A tear slipped down your face and your hand left Seungcheol’s arm to wipe it, furiously.He turned to you pitifully, the broad width of his shoulders hanging low. “I’m sorry- you weren’t meant to feel that way-”

“It’s okay. I wanted to help,” Seungcheol grabbed your hands in his, a deep frown on his lips.

You stopped the tears, face burning hot and wet when you looked up at him again, calmed. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands. The pads were rough and beaten.

“Y’know it was sort of the same for me,” you said. Seungcheol waited for you to talk patiently and with a small, encouraging smile, as warmth streamed from his hands into yours.

“Yeah, my- uh roommate - best friend - died. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I found him, like, his hand was just outstretched towards- towards the wall to my room, and he must’ve just lied there while his heart was giving out and I wasn’t there-... And I found him the next morning like that and I thought he was asleep and I left him there. Again. And I just can’t stop seeing him everywhere and for a while I was afraid that he would move, you know, like, start crawling towards me or some shit, but I think now I’m actually more afraid that he’ll never move. I think that’s the joke or whatever, he just won’t move, he’ll just be there the way I left him- and I guess- I guess, I thought I could find some sort of higher purpose out here, but I just can’t.. I feel more as though.. Like, it was these things that took him away from me, these fundamental parts of- existence. Like all the cliffs have evil faces and they want to take me too, and maybe I did want them to take me, but not- not anymore. I don’t know if that makes any sense?”

You peered up at Seungcheol through your lashes, wet and heavy. He was frowning, hands gripping yours tighter.

“You don’t want them to take you anymore?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. “How so?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it has much to do with me or the park. I think-” you gaze flitted to Seungcheol and he smiled knowingly. You scoffed and smiled too.

Although you both were fully clothed (Seungcheol annoyingly so), it felt as if all the layers had been stripped away one by one; sweaters and trousers, skin and meat and bones. All there was left were two brightly glowing hearts in front of one another.

“It’s okay,” he whispered then. “You don’t have to say it.”

You rolled your eyes: “I think it’s because of you.”

He grinned, wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes and cheeks bunching up in shiny, red fat. You poorly suppressed your own grin and the two of you leaned into each other when your eyes hooked, laughing into each other's shoulders.

“You’re so dumb,” you complained, forehead scratching against the stiff, knitted threads in Seungcheol’s shirt.

“I think- I think we both jus’ get dumber together,” you could feel his smile into your neck and the hot stream of air that bounced against the skin.

Right as you were about to pull away, Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around your back and pushed you back into him. You giggled at the motion, but with little thought your own arms wrapped around his back too, and your knees clashed where they met.

“Seungcheol?” your voice was muffled by his neck. His only response was hum, that ruminated from deep in his throat right by your ear. You pulled away until you were staring at his face.

Each thick stroke of eyebrow hair, each long, black eyelash and each mole dotted on his softly aging skin was crystal clear then. Your hands wrapped around his biceps and felt your heart buzz at their pronounced carvings under the wool. Seungcheol smiled down at you in a sort of adoring way.

“I think-” you began, then felt stupid, then felt idiotic and cowardly. “I don’t know- I think we should kiss now?”

It came out as more of a question than a statement.

Seungcheol gravelled a laugh and his eyes became all squinty and he pursed his lips as if it concealed his amusement in any way at how you squirmed beneath him and your face heated up.

“I think you’re right,” he nodded and you could barely register the feeling of joy that exploded in your chest, before Seungcheol’s pillowy lips crashed into yours at the same instance as a crack of thunder.

The lightning was a flickering show to the performance of yours and Seungcheol’s passionate kiss. His lips molded to yours and yours to his, warm and chapped and your hands couldn’t help but wrap around the soft planes of his cheeks - to pull him further, to keep him with you.

Seungcheol grappled for your hips, and you moaned in a sort of discombobulated agreement, as he, with shocking ease, pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body, stroking and pressing into the meat, left a burning ghostly trail behind it.

“Can I be honest?” you mumbled in between bitten kisses and panted breaths. “You’re hotter than I imagined.”

Seungcheol smiled into the kiss at that: “You too, baby. Now you get the real thing, hm? After fucking your sweet pussy thinking about me?”

You whined in response, hips canting down into his and head dropping into the warm crook of his neck. You licked mindlessly at the skin, rolling your hips into his. Seungcheol groaned and steel hands halted your eager core.

“Desperate so quick?” he quirked, and you cried out because how could even begin to describe how hot it was that he could entirely still your movements so nonchalantly? You swallowed before you tilted your head from the safety of his neck.

“I have waited so fucking long for your cock, Cheol. I need it inside me now,” you said seriously, and it was his turn to swallow the rising viscous in his throat, before he nodded and pushed you off his lap to remove his trousers.

You saw the way the metal of the belt reflected the light, as he (almost angrily) began journeying it off his middle, and you took the hint, beginning to discard your clothes. Your first sweater fell to the floor, then the next followed, and then you were stomping the floor to rid your soaked trousers. Another article of clothing that was soaked - your panties! And embarrassingly so, you thought, watching the slick, wet patch as you lowered the material to the floor.

Only then did your attention return to Seungcheol, now fully naked in his hut with windows on all sides, and you audibly gasped.

His torso was one huge slab of muscle and meat. The skin was relatively pale, pronounced pecs and his arms were like tree trunks at his sides. His thighs were fucking huge, indentations of muscles peering through his skin, as he impatiently worked his boxers off.

He halted though at your gasp, smirking cockily before returning to his work.

“Is it as good as you imagined when you came thinkin’ ‘bout me?” he muttered as his boxers slid down his calf. Too busy staring at his girthy, leaking cock sprouting between his legs, you neglected to answer and Seungcheol continued in a deliberately raspy tone: “Jus’ thinking about your pretty moans, my cock’s aching for you, princess. You’re not gonna come warm it up, beautiful?”

“Yes-” you stumbled over a treacherous boot, “yes, I am!”

“Good girl,” Seungcheol rumbled, bemused, as your knees floundered into the mattress and back into his lap. Seungcheol seemed to have other plans, however, because as soon as you had found your footing, and his warm hands were sliding up your back and his neck was craned up to you, breath hitting your breasts, he raised you and flipped you over, so you were digging into the mattress and he was above you. The shadows only served to define the chisel of his arms further.

His hand slid down your soft thighs, settling in between your legs to run two fingers through your folds.

“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispered, somewhat mesmerized at the slick coating his fingertips. You squirmed impatiently and he shushed you, ever so gently: “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Immediately following up on his promise, the two fingers snaked down to your sensitive, pulsing hole, prodding gently. You wiggled and whined, one of your hands (which had been gripping his bedsheets) stopped him at the wrist. He stopped, eyes flitting up to your flushed, shiny face questioningly.

“I wan’ your cock now. No prep,” you scowled, strands of hair sticking out messily. Seungcheol frowned.

“I need to-”

“I’m wet enough, please, been thinkin’ ‘bout this since-..” you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were already, so precious, all beautiful and naked and womanly.

“You sure?” he asked, voice matching the depth of the thunder. You nodded eagerly: “Please, please-”

“Okay,” he murmured, sticky hand leaving your burning pussy in favor of pressing it against the underside of your thigh. At the command of his strong hands, your body folded in half and the realization of your position had you crying out pathetically. “Anything for my beautiful baby.”

My. His. The word choice had you clenching around nothing, all spread out for him while he lined his pretty, red cock up with your entrance.

“Gonna feel real full in a minute, yeah?” he said absently, watching intently at how your pretty pussy was splayed out and ready and aching for him, mind reeling at the sight of you and the smell of you and how you felt under his hands.

And suddenly it was there - a mountain of pressure building around the head of his cock as it pushed inside, bursting when he pushed in a little further, until he was fully nestled inside. Seungcheol was not unaffected, body curling over yours animalistically with a deep, throaty groan. You, too, had to squirm and moan wantonly, as your body shone under the bulb.

“You’re so tight, pretty,” Seungcheol managed, face scrunched up, as his pelvis met your pubic bone. His hands gripped your shaking legs once more, fully folding you in half and you cried as the movement invited him further inside, feeling him brush the spongy spot inside you.

“Feel s’good!” you moaned, even as he hadn’t moved yet, and Seungcheol’s hands squeezed you in response.

Experimentally (perhaps fearful, as you had rushed into it without preparation), Seungcheol thrust shallowly and was pleased at your broken cry, so he did it again and then again, and then he was building up a rhythm and your sultry moans were slipping through the cracks of the hut and bouncing off the walls of Aluralura mountain and echoing twenty times over.

There was nothing sweet about the pace of Seungcheol’s hips. He was pistoning in and out with an impressive agility, huffing over your folded body. It was desperation; the way your nails raked over his back and his sloping arms, and sweet, little whimpers and your pussy choking his cock.

“Sweetest, prettiest-” he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, stomach caving inwards and clenching. “Fuck, cutest, little princess being stuffed full of my cock.”

“Love your cock,” you babbled, “Love- love your cock, love you.”

The words slipped out as if they were nothing, but their meaning was solidified by your raking hand sneaking up to his neck and pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. Tongues melding and spit trickling down your chin as he hummed into your mouth in the most wonderful way.

“Love you, too. Pretty, funny, sweet girl-”

“A-ah, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you warned, voice nothing but a breath, and your face pleasured, scrunched up in the dead of night. Your stomach was a well of pressure.

“I know, baby, I know. Squeezing me so tight,” he soothed, hands running up and down the plush underside of your thighs, as his hips continued their unrelenting pace. “Come on, cum on my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Seungcheol-” a string of curses and his name followed as your pussy clenched one last hard time and your cum seeped out around his thick, veiny length.

Holding his own orgasm at bay, he clenched his jaw and gritted out: “Where d’you want my cum?”

“Inside!” you mewled, overstimulated and sore, and legs still pressed to your chest, clammy and slick.

Seungcheol would’ve made a snarky remark was he not already cumming at your words, white seed painting your insides and spilling out around his softening length. He thrust a couple more times, relishing in the sounds of your fucked-out moans before he’d emptied himself, and he dropped down beside you.

Due to the nature of a one-person bed, you and Seungcheol were both pressed close to one another, covered in sweat. Your panting, huffing breaths synchronized and you stared into each other's eyes, all wild and blushed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, brought back to reality by a distant calling owl. You were still in the park, you realized - not some other pleasure dimension like one may have thought. Seungcheol smiled giddily.

You looked out into the wasteland, and your eyelids and limbs (draping over Seungcheol’s big, pretty body) were suddenly heavy. You yawned.

“D’you think we have to stay up anymore?”

Seungcheol watched you gauging the pinelands with starry eyes. “You can go to bed,” he offered gently, “I’ll stay up and make sure the storm’s over.”

“Are you sure?” you mumbled, but you were already settling into the domes of his chest, closing your eyes. Seungcheol looked at you and thought you were adorable.

“Yeah.”

“Can you stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“Can your dick stay inside me?”

This prompted a laughter blooming all the way from his chest, where your cheek bunched up against the skin. His arm was wrapped around your back.

“Sure, baby.”

You mumbled something like ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘thank you’, and you drifted off into sleep with his arms around you, and when Seungcheol was certain the storm had passed, he nuzzled his head into your hair and dozed off himself.

At the swimming red sky of dawn, your eyes pried open to see Seungcheol already awake, still wrapped around you.

Nonchalantly (that is to say: as if your chest was not bursting with glee), you nodded your head over to the window behind him:

“Is that not a black-billed cuckoo?!”

And Seungcheol thought that maybe you and him could find birds together elsewhere too.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol angst #svt angst #seventeen angst #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #svt x you #seventeen x you #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x y/n #angst #smut

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ashcal99 · 4 months

Text

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale VIII

Chapter Eight

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blood

Words: 8k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. I'm backkkkk. Hope you enjoy x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

February 6th, 2005

Camila’s Sunday had been a fairly uneventful day, having spent the majority of it on the couch with her mother. The two had spent their afternoon watching some of the movies they had recently unpacked from the move. Camila had been happy to spend some much needed quality time with her mother and even happier to spend that time avoiding the topic that had been weighing on the family heavily for the past week. In reality, she didn’t actually know how many more good days with her mother she was going to get by the end of all of this, and she wanted to cherish whatever time she had left.

Her mother had just popped in the second tape for the movie Titanic when her father arrived home, arms full with two large pizza boxes as he dropped his things by the door. Camila’s face blossomed into a bright smile. Regardless of her dwindling appetite, pizza would always be her favorite and she couldn’t have thought of a more ideal evening with her parents. So the family sat together, watching as the movie’s plot took a rather unfortunate turn for disaster, eating their greasy pizza off of paper plates.

Of course, in the end, as it always happened, no matter how much Camila had hoped for a different outcome, the lovely Jack Dawson had frozen to death holding the hand of his lover and she was left to wonder if she would end up leaving Jasper in a similar state of despair when her time was up. Deep down she knew that his offer of eternity in his arms was growing more and more tempting and the likelihood of her ever leaving his side was dwindling as the days passed by. Her feelings for him were growing day by day as well and she was well past the point of no return she feared.

Being in love was a scary and vulnerable thing as it was, but given everything else about her situation, it was nothing less than terrifying, albeit a good kind of terrifying. Her thoughts had become an endless cycle of him, and she knew she was done for. The idea of being in love so quickly would’ve made her scoff and roll her eyes previously, but now that she found herself very much in love with Jasper, she knew that what she had once thought was impossible was the truth.

The feelings she held in her heart for Jasper triumphed any idea of love she had previously held. She had never been one to believe in the foolish idea of love at first sight, but as she looked back at the moment she had met him she couldn’t imagine anything closer to describe it as. She knew that if she already felt this strongly for him, that her feelings would only grow to an incomprehensible intensity with time.

It was after the sun had set when he had come knocking on her window, giving the glass a light tap with his knuckles as a warning before he entered through the opening into her bedroom. She had given him a small tired smile, gesturing for him to join her on the bed. He moved forward, sinking into his usual spot as she took hers with her head on his chest, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“How was the game?” She asked, bringing her hand up to lay on the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Jasper smiled, wrapping an arm around her protectively. “It was good, Patriots won.” He said simply, knowing she was just being polite in asking, having no interest in the game herself.

In all truth, he hadn’t spent much of his time actually paying attention to the sport, his thoughts being rather caught up on the girl who was currently curled up against him. He tried his best to show interest as he knew that Emmet had been looking forward to it, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed at his past self for promising to spend the day away from Camila. Of course, at the time he had no idea that he would be missing school the two days that followed, which had definitely added to the torture. Torture that was given brief recesses by his nightly visits.

“That’s good, I’m glad you enjoyed it…” She said, trailing off into a yawn, covering her mouth with her palm. “I’m sorry, I promise you’re not boring me, I’m just so exhausted.” She explained, slightly disappointed in herself as she had been looking forward to seeing him all day and knew that his presence would be missed at school the next morning.

He sighed, running his fingers delicately along her spine, raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin. “You don’t need to apologize Darlin’, sleep.” He said, laying a kiss on her head as he breathed in the comforting scent of her.

“You won’t be bored?” She asked, looking up at him through her lashes as she attempted to fight the sleep off.

Jasper smiled lightly. “Is it creepy if I said that I actually enjoy watching you sleep?” He asked, arching a curious brow at her.

Camila snickered softly. “A little bit.” She admitted cheekily.

Jasper’s chest shook with a slight chuckle at her bluntness. “I can’t help it, you just look so peaceful.” He explained, giving her a bright smile, teeth shining in the moonlight.

Camila lifted her head slightly, getting a better look of the beautiful smile he had been graciously sharing with her. “Do you ever miss being able to sleep?” She asked, curiosity coursing through her.

He looked up in though for a moment, eyes coming back, meeting her own as he gave his answer. “Sometimes. It’s been so long, so I don’t really know what I’m missing out on I suppose.” He admitted, his cool fingers lifting to brush the hair from her face. He leaned forwards slightly, pressing his lips lightly to hers in a soft kiss, breaking away with a grin as he listened to her heart rate pick up from the touch. “Stop stalling, sleep.” He urged.

Camila groaned, rolling her eyes playfully as she lowered her head back to his chest. “Fine.” She muttered, letting her eyes flutter closed.

Jasper’s eyes lingered on her sleeping frame as he concentrated on the beating of her heart. Her tank top hung loosely on her frail shoulders, her chest slowly rising and falling as she sucked in the deep breaths of sleep.

The burn in his throat persisted, Camila’s parents’ blood pumping heavily through their veins in such close proximity. Although he knew that his thirst hadn’t wavered, being so near the humans had grown easier to manage over time. Easier to let his mind wander on thoughts of Camila rather than thoughts of bloodlust. It was times like these that he missed being able to sleep, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms and be able to dream of her.

So, instead he spent this time day dreaming of her. Day dreaming of the future they may one day have with each other. Thoughts of being able to not only drape his arm around her body, but truly hold her. He knew that he was getting carried away, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it that when he pictured his future, she was always there at his side, or rather she was there in the forefront, his future itself.

——————

February 7th, 2005

Camila awoke in the morning to her mother gently shaking her. Vaguely, she remembered, a half asleep goodbye from Jasper, followed by a soft peck to her forehead that must have happened only minutes before. A frown settled on her face, not yet mentally prepared to face the day without her favorite person by her side. She knew she would see him later, that much he had assured her, but that didn’t stop her from dreading spending the next two school days without him in attendance.

She was however, looking forward to seeing Angela once more, slightly giddy at the fact that she would be able to tell her that Jasper was now officially her boyfriend. She had refrained from telling her mother of this, knowing that it would only raise questions, besides, her mother knew her too well, and the last thing she really needed was a confirmation.

So she had begrudgingly pulled herself out of bed and into the shower. The cool stream of water stifled the heat of her skin as the stream ran down her spine. Gravity weighed down on her bones, a deep ache radiating through her body. She would be sure to take her meds today, knowing that the pain would only intensify as the hours went on. Although she hated to rely on the pills, she knew that it was necessary, especially given the fact that Jasper would not be there to help distract her.

The ride to Forks High School was rather quiet, the air around her and her mother filled with soft crunching of Camila’s protein bar. She forced herself to swallow the unsavory food, knowing that she needed the nutrients, regardless of how much she hated the aftertaste. When the van finally came to a stop in front of the dreary building. She quickly stuffed the remainder of her breakfast in her mouth, grabbing her bottle of water as she mumbled something resembling a goodbye to her mother, giving a quick side hug to the woman.

The fluorescent lit hallways were filled with cheerful chatter, no doubt a side effect of the irregularly sunny day. The ring of the bell rang shrilly signaling the time for first period, and she was surprisingly happy to sit down in the class. The teacher quickly gave them work to do in pairs and she was thankful to be able to speak to the girl without risking getting in trouble for talking in class.

“Soooo…” She drew out dramatically, gaining the attention of the girl sitting next to her. Angela looked to her, eyes peering over the rim of her glasses quizzically. “Jasper may or may not officially be my boyfriend now.” She informed, watching as a giant smile formed on the girl’s lips in response.

“Oh my god. I knew it!” She squealed in delight, teeth shining in the fluorescent lighting. “Tell me more, I’m begging.” She said, dramatically clutching her hands together as she pushed her bottom lip out in a pout.

Camila smiled lightly, a bright blush covering her cheeks as she thought of what to tell the girl that wouldn’t give too much away. “I met his parents this weekend.” She said, opting to add Carlisle in on the meeting as she shouldn’t have had any reason to have met him previously.

Angela’s eyes widened dramatically. “Woah, that’s kinda serious, huh?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

The heat burned red hot on her face as Camila looked down at the workbook in front of her bashfully. “Kinda, yeah.” She muttered, smile unwavering from her lips.

“So they’re ridiculously attractive too, right?” Angela asked, nudging the girl’s shoulder.

Camila snickered lightly. “Of course.” She admitted.

Angela perked up in her seat. “So, does this mean that he’s going to take you to prom now?” She asked expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

Camila’s smile dropped slightly, forcing herself to not let it falter completely. “No.” She said simply, watching as Angela gave an indignant pout. “We already had plans to spend time with each other, and I’m not much of a prom kind of girl I guess.” She explained feebly, hoping the girl would except her answer without much fuss.

Angela sighed disappointedly. “Fine.” She grumbled.

“But don’t worry.” Camila chirped. “I promise to help find the best dress for you.” She said, smiling brightly. Angela’s lips quirked up in answer, happy to hear the words, and conversation quickly changed topic to getting their work done, neither of the two wanting to have to take the work home to do that night instead.

——————

Jasper’s day had drug on at a ridiculously slow pace, the absence of Camila glaringly obvious as he attempted feebly to read one of the books off of his shelves. His eyes scanned the pages, knowing deep down that it was of no use. He wasn’t actually absorbing any of the information, as his mind was clearly elsewhere. He wondered, as he recalled the time before he had met Camila, which in reality had only been a short time ago, how he had occupied his time like this. It now all seemed so monotonous, the same books over and over again, growing bored quickly of them, regardless of how much he had previously cared for the stories. He knew them all by heart by now and he made a mental note to try and get some new book recommendations later from Camila.

Once again, his mind had quickly returned to thoughts of the girl. Shocker. How was he expected to have to do this whole thing again just a day later. It was already torture enough as it was. At least, he reminded himself, that he would have the night that he would be able to see her, even if it was just to be in her company as she slept. It surprised him that such a thing didn’t bore him, although he did understand the appeal. The feel of her warm skin against his own cool body, the steady beat of her heart in his ears, everything was a reminder that, at least for now, she was alive and with him. While at the moment, being away from her felt like nothing but a waste of their time.

Jasper looked over to the clock on the wall for what had to be the thousandth time that day. She would be leaving school now, just that much closer to when he would be able to see her. He would have to wait until the sun set of course. His family were supposed to be out of town camping, so he knew he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him, regardless of if he were to be seen in direct sunlight or not.

It was days like this that made him question the humans in the town’s intelligence, them all seeming to except their rather lousy excuse for missing school fairly easily. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that most people viewed them as outcasts already, but really, what parent would agree to pull their kids out from school just because it happened to be a sunny day? He supposed he should be grateful for their ignorance, but at the moment, all he could do was stare impatiently at the pages of his book, willing time to somehow go by faster.

After an agonizing wait in which felt like eternity, the sun had finally set, and in a blink of an eye, he had fled the glass house, determined to make this the fastest run of his life. As the small pale yellow house came into view, he felt like he could breath again. In truth, he hadn’t noticed the weight on his chest until it had lifted. Unlike their usual routine, when Jasper rounded the corner, he could see her, sitting at the open window, gazing out at the night sky. When her eyes finally met his own, a small smile spread across her face.

“I got overheated.” She explained, stepping back from the open window to allow him inside. It was the truth, one of the many side effects of her illness had caused her to have hot flashes and she had awoken in a particularly bad one at that, but she would be lying if she had said it was the only reason she had been staring out into the wilderness that night. She hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be for her to miss Jasper’s company that day, having already had a drastically decreased amount of time with him that weekend, and she had been counting down the minutes until sunset.

Jasper smiled, pulling her into his cool chest, knowing that the temperature difference would help sooth her without the risk of catching a cold from the chilled February night air. Her face nuzzled into the icy fabric of his clothing, sighing as she allowed herself the comfort of his embrace. All too soon, Jasper parted ways, only to shut the window and drag her to her bed to get comfortable, pulling her back into himself.

“How was school?” He asked, muttering the words into her hair as he rested his head atop hers.

She groaned out a dramatic sound. “Horrible.” She said bluntly, earning a laugh from the golden haired vampire.

He rolled his eyes playfully at her words. “It couldn’t have been that bad, could it?” He asked.

Camila lifted her body, coming to a seat next to him as he wrapped his arm securely around her waist. “Yes actually.” She stated matter of factly. She thought for a moment, looking for the right words that wouldn’t make it seem like his absence alone had completely ruined her day. “It was nice to see Angela and Bella, but Tyler wouldn’t leave me alone.” She groaned out.

Camila had been lucky to avoid Tyler for the most part, but unfortunately, he had of course taken notice of Jasper’s absence and had decided that it was the best time to try and be friends again. Much to her annoyance, he had talked her ear off during lunch and only continued to do so on their way to biology class. All of the talking had created a particularly horrible headache behind her brow and she begged whatever higher power there was that he would shut up for once in his life.

She internally scolded herself for being continuously friendly to him, but realistically, it wasn’t like she could just turn around and be an ass to him when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong since he had apologized. Unfortunately for herself, she had convinced herself to be as kind as possible to everybody unless given a reason not to be. The reality of it was that she didn’t have the time nor energy to be unkind, something the she was starting to question was showing to be true in this case.

By the time their calculous class came around, she was for once happy to have silence. Although she would have much preferred to have Jasper’s company, she was glad to have peace and quiet for the first time that day. She had never been so thankful that they had assigned seats and Tyler was stuck far away from her, finally giving her space to breath. Her head had continued to pound relentlessly as she counted down the minutes until she would be able to return home, take her meds, and sleep off the migraine. A sleep that she had just recently woken from.

Tyler. The boys name had caused Jasper’s body to stiffen. He knew it wasn’t his right to be bothered by him, but in all truth he couldn’t stand the boy. Maybe it was mostly jealousy, but he had jus rubbed him the wrong way from the beginning. “He wouldn’t shut up, and I’m not trying to be rude, but we aren’t even really friends and he was giving me a headache.” She admitted, a grimace casted on her face.

Jasper laughed lightly, relieved that the boy hadn’t gone and upset her with his words yet again. “Only one more day, and we’ll be back. I promise to scare him off.” He joked, a smirk unwavering on his lips.

Camila threw her head back in a groan as she pouted her lips childishly, Jasper desperately wanting to kiss the pout away. “I don’t know if I’ll make it.” She said dramatically.

Jasper leaned forwards, bringing his lips to hers, deciding to not hold back any longer as he gave her a light kiss upon her lips. She smiled into his touch, the playful pout melting instantly as she molded her mouth to his. He pulled away, not allowing the kiss to last too long. He gave her a sheepish smile before speaking. “If it makes you feel any better, I was almost bored to death without you.” He admitted.

Camila smiled lightly, glad to know that the ‘torture’ was not one sided. One more day and he would be back, she could do it, right? “I’m almost tempted to skip tomorrow.” She admitted. “But I promised Angela that I would go prom dress shopping with her in Port Angeles after school, so I can’t really act sick for half the day very easily.” She continued.

Jasper quirked an eyebrow at his girlfriend. “Are we going to prom?” He asked confused. He had been sure the event had been off of the table given her physical limitations, but now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she had changed her mind now that they were dating. Maybe it was him who dropped the ball when he hadn’t asked to make sure his theory was correct.

She shook her head. “No, defiantly not. Even if I could go, I don’t think I’d want to. I’d rather just spend time alone with you.” She admitted, allowing Jasper to let out an internal sigh of relief. “I just promised to help her find a dress is all.” She said.

He nodded his head in understanding, ignoring the lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, the idea of her being out in the city without him made a chill go up his spine, even if the reality of it was impossible. Realistically what could go wrong? She would be out with friends and she would be able to sit the majority of the time. Regardless, he couldn’t shake the feeling of something bad happening. “Text me if you need me to pick you up early.” He said, receiving a gracious nod from her in response.

He tried his best to shake his unease as he sat with her, holding her, and allowing the touch of her blazing skin on his own to calm the racing thoughts in his mind. He changed the subject, remembering to ask for book recommendations as he attempted to steer his mind from the unnecessary panic that refused to leave.

——————

February 8th, 2005

Camila had never wished more to take her jacket off, the heat of the day causing a sheen of sweet to cover her forehead, despite the temperature not being above seventy. Of course, the entire school had decided to sit outdoors, given the ‘beautiful’ weather, and the long sleeves that she wore were beginning to stick to her skin. She wondered briefly if it was worth it to try and cover the bruises with makeup rather than the extra layer of fabric.

Her thoughts halted as she realized that this solution would only end up solving one of her two issues. Her bones would still continue to protrude from her muscles, something that was sure to only get worse as she grew sicker and sicker. The last thing she needed was people growing concerned of her health in any way shape or form.

She shook the thoughts from her head, looking up from the unappetizing food to Bella who was sat opposite on the picnic table. The girl’s eyes wandered around at the crowd of students gathered in the unusual sunny grounds, seemingly anxious about something. “He’s not here.” Jessica spoke from her spot atop the table where she perched soaking in the rays of sunshine. Bella looked up, slightly embarrassed that she had been caught looking for him. “Whenever the weather’s nice, the Cullens disappear.” She explained, eyes closed as her face tilted up towards they sky.

Bella looked to her, slightly confused. “What, do they just ditch?” She asked curiously.

“No, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen yank them out for, like hiking and camping and stuff.” Jessica explained. Camila hummed, a small smirk forming on her lips. Was this really the excuse they had come up with? It was kind of lame is she was being honest. Very vague at lease, but did she really expect anything else at this point? “I tried that out on my parents. Not even close.” Jessica continued, earning a snicker from Camila.

Angela rushed towards the group, her long brunette hair falling over her shoulders as she settled into a spot next to Bella. “Bella, are you sure you have to go out of town for prom? Camila isn’t going either. It’s going to be lonely without you guys.” She said, giving a dramatic pout.

Bella grimaced at the question, seemingly just as perturbed as anytime Camila had been asked about the topic. “Oh, yeah, it’s a little family thing.” She explained dismissively. She turned to Camila, arching an eyebrow at the girl. “You’re not going?” She asked, surprised by the fact that she had not been the only one in the small town that hadn’t wished to attend the event.

“What? Couldn’t find a date?” Jessica asked, attempting to pass the snide remark off as a playful joke. Camila’s face dropped, giving her a slight glare not allowing the girl’s comment to pass without a reaction from her.

Angela perked up, wanting to defend her new friend. “Actually, her and Jasper are dating, but apparently neither of them wanted to go, so they made other plans.” She said, smiling as she gave Camila a teasing glance, causing a blush to creep up to her cheeks. Of course, anytime anyone mentioned him, she had to blush like a little girl with a crush. Honestly, who was she kidding? She wasn’t any better than that anyway.

Jessica grimaced at the information, muttering something about Jasper ‘being even more of a weirdo than Alice’, earning an even more intense glare from Camila. “Okay, are we still good to go shopping in Port Angeles? I want to go before all the good dresses get cleaned out.” She asked Angela, deflecting the negative attention from the girl beside her.

Angela nodded enthusiastically, smiling at Camila as she nodded as well. A shrill bell rang throughout the courtyard, signaling the end of the lunch period. Camila stood, grabbing her lunch tray from the table, attempting to hide how little she had eaten from the greasy array of food with her crumpled up napkin.

Bella hesitated as the students began to head inside for the next half of classes for the day. “Port Angeles? You mind if I come?” Bella asked.

“Yeah, I need your opinion.” Angela said, grinning widely. Camila sighed, happy that she would have another friend there as a buffer between her and Jessica. It was no secret that the two didn’t like each other. Jessica clearly didn’t like to be talked back to in any sense of the phrase, and Camila wasn’t one to just sit there and take her bullying lightly. The two were bound to butt heads, but luckily she would have Angela and Bella there to lighten the blow of the inevitable disagreements that were to come.

——————

“I like this one, but, like I don’t know about the whole one shoulder thing.” Jessica said, holding the pink spaghetti strap dress in front of her body in the mirror to get a good look at herself. Angela nodded saying something about how the color looked good against her skin.

Angela held up a dress of her own. “I like this one. What do you think?” She asked Camila expectantly, a bright look in her eye.

Camila smiles taking in the sight before her, trying her best not to grimace as the headache pounding behind her temple got worse. “Yeah, I like the beading, and you wouldn’t need jewelry.” She argued, giving her best effort in sounding like she was interested and not like she was in a lot of pain. She pulled at the collar of her shirt, a cold sweat covering her forehead. Great, another hot flash, just what she needed.

They had been in the same dress shop from what seemed like hours and had barely gotten anywhere when it came to actually finding dressed for the two girls in front if her. Of course, within that time, her pain meds had completely worn off and the ache in her bones was beginning to rival the pounding in her head.

Angela turned. “Jess, what do you think? Lavender?” She asked the girl, gesturing to dress she was currently wearing. “Is that good? Is that my color?” She continued, fidgeting with the fabric that clung to her body.

“I like it.” Jessica said quickly. “I like that dusty rose one, too.” She said, turning back to the mirror to admire her own reflection. “Okay, I like this one. It makes my boobs look good.” She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Knocking on the glass of the window behind her, Camila turned to see a group of four men passing by, all ogling over the girls in the shop before them. “Nice!” One of them yelled, loud enough for the group of girls to hear them through the glass. Camila grimaced lightly at the interaction.

Jessica scoffed, clearly flattered given the wide grin on her face. “That is uncomfortable.” She said, voice trailing off.

“That’s disgusting.” Bella muttered, looking down at the book in her hands, earning an absent minded nod from Camila.

Jessica perked up once more. “Bella, what do you think?” She asked.

Bella looked up, finally giving the two dresses attention as her eyes left the pages of her book. “That looks great.” She said dismissively.

“You said that about, like, the last five dresses, though.” She said, smile dropping slightly as she twirled her hair around her finger.

Bella smiled bashfully. “I thought they were all pretty good.” She said, laughing lightly.

Angela looked towards the two girls sitting on the cushioned bench. “You guys aren’t really into this are you?” She asked frowning.

Camila’s smile dropped, feeling bad that she wasn’t giving Angela the experience she had been looking for. She was trying to sounds enthusiastic, but if she was being honest, she really didn’t care about the dresses at all. All she had wanted was to spend some time with friends outside of school, but now, with the music playing throughout the store, the bright lights, and the hundreds of questions about her opinion of the different dresses they had tried on over the past hour, she was just tired and overstimulated. The pounding of her temples proved that she couldn’t take it much longer.

“I actually really just want to go to this bookstore.” Bella admitted, giving an apologetic smile. “I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant?” She suggested.

Camila’s ears perked up at this, a perfect excuse to finally leave this god forsaken dress shop. “Do you mind if I come with? I could use some fresh air.” She asked, knowing she would most likely regret it soon, needing to walk to the book shop, but not being able to help herself. If she was being honest, she was almost certain that if she stayed in this shop one more minute her head might explode. Bella nodded, grabbing her coat before leading the way to the door outside.

Camila let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit her face, glad to finally be free of the stuffy environment of the shop. Pain ricocheted up her legs as her steps landed on the pavement, attempting to give the pain little thought as she was just glad to have some quiet and cool air on her skin. It frustrated her to no end of course that she was incapable of doing such a simple thing as going shopping with friends, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought something like this was likely to happen. She would, however, enjoy it while it lasted, knowing she wouldn’t even have the opportunity to do so for much longer.

It was moments like this that made her happy that Bella was a particularly quiet person, and if she was being honest, she quite enjoyed the girls silent company. Her migraine was finally starting to subside as the small book shop came into view. Camila gave Bella a soft smile as she opted to stay outside in the cool air. She checked behind her, to make sure the girl had entered the shop before tearing the long sleeved zip-up hoodie from her frail arms, letting a sigh of relief leave her lips as the cool wind hit her blazing skin.

She looked down at the pale skin the stretched loosely across her arms, the area scattered with varying shades of bruises. She knew she would only have a moment of sweet relief before Bella returned, so she closed her eyes and chose to savor the time she had been allowed. Her eyes opened, gazing out at the sunset before her. She hadn’t actually realized how late it had gotten and internally scolded herself for the missed time she would end up having with Jasper that night.

She sucked in a deep breath, taking note of how her chest tightened uncomfortably. Dr Cullen had warned her of the discomfort that breathing would soon bring, but as prepared as she thought she was, she knew that the inevitable struggle would not be anything she could ever be truly prepared for. She knew that this was just the beginning of how horrible it would end up feeling for her. The reality of dying would one day end up being too much for her to handle.

She wondered for a moment if taking the opportunity that Jasper had offered when the time came would make her brave or a coward. What in the end would be the easy solution? Dying and leaving him, or living and leaving everyone else she loved? In that moment, she wasn’t sure, but she did know what her heart yearned for. The image of his amber eyes flooded her thoughts, the idea of him alone, calming her unsteady breaths.

A soft bell jingled behind her, pulling her from her wandering thoughts as she quickly pulled the fabric back up her arms and onto her shoulders. She turned taking in the site of Bella walking towards her holding a small book in her hand. “Ready?” She asked, gesturing with a nod to the road ahead. Camila nodded, giving a small smile as they started the trek back to where the restaurant was.

Their shoes thudded against the sidewalk as they walked in silence, a fog starting to settle in around them. They turned, cutting in between two buildings, taking the same route back that they had taken to get there. Suddenly, it became glaringly obvious the stark difference between the alley during the day and at night, and just as suddenly, Camila felt a chill run up her spine. Not the same chill she would get when Jasper touched her, but an eery chill.

Stood there on the other side of the ally was the group of men who had passed by at the dress shop, looking much more menacing under the dim glow of the street lights. One of the men had just spotted them and had turned in his tracks to move towards them, the rest of the men following his lead. Camila grabbed Bella’s arm, turning back around before swiftly retracing their steps onto the trail they had just taken.

They were now in a much bigger clearing, although just as deserted, and Camila chastised her self mentally for letting her pain and jumbled thoughts cloud her judgement. She wasn’t stupid, but god did she feel like she was in that moment. If she had been paying more attention she would’ve noticed the time of day or even the lack of people on their walk to the book store.

Footsteps echoed throughout the air, the men no doubt following them further into the clearing. “Saw you in the dress store.” One of the men called out loudly. Camila forced her eyes to remain ahead, as if ignoring the men would make them disappear.

“Hey, where are you running to?” Another yelled. Camila’s heart began to race, hearing the thudding in her ears, breath becoming shallow and quick, her lungs tightening with every gasp for air.

Blinking rapidly, trying to calm her heart and her mind as the panic set it, three more men came into view on the other end of the lot. “What up? It’s my girls.” One said, his eyes meeting hers as the other three coming in closer. A menacing smirk coated his face as she tired to look anywhere but into his dark terrifying eyes.

One man from behind called out to another. “How you guys doing? Look who we just found.”

Camila’s hand tightened around Bella’s arm, attempting to ground herself in the moment and not settle into a full blown panic attack.

“What’s up, girls?”

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Where are you going?”

“Come get a drink with us.”

“Yeah, you should hang out with us, come on.”

“It’s fun.”

“What’s the problem?” “You’re pretty.”

Voices called out around them as the men got closer and closer starting to cage them in and breaking them apart from each other. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. The one time she went out with friends, and this happens? Really? Panic was really starting to set in as her mind began to wander further. It was one thing for this to happen to her, I mean her life was about to end anyway, but Bella too? She had her whole life ahead of her.

“Don’t touch me.” Bella snapped, pulling her arm from one of the men harshly.

The voices continued to ramble around them. Sadness bloomed in her chest as reality sunk in. Unless a miracle happened soon, they would likely end up dead by the end of this and despite having thought that she was prepared for death, she couldn’t get Jasper’s face out of her mind. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for the end as she had thought. The thought of leaving Jasper was what hurt the most, leaving a gaping hole in her heart. Maybe she was a coward, maybe not, in that moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was him.

Darkness started to encroach her vision, seeping in from all sides. Her body started to feel heavy, pain shooting up her arm as one of the men grabbed harshly at her, his fingers digging into her flesh. She was certain she would faint soon when all of a sudden, the screeching of tires against the pavement behind her cut through her jumbled thoughts.

She turned her head feebly, a silver Volvo whipping around the corner, causing the men to jump back. Wait a second. She knew that car. Edward, thank god. She thought, relief flooding her veins. She had been sure that they were goners, destined to end up on some Dateline or CSI episode.

The car jerked to a stop, Edward popping out of the driver seat, quickly followed by Jasper from the passenger seat. “Get in the car.” Edward instructed Bella.

Jasper rushed to Camila’s side, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist as he allowed her to rest her bodyweight on him, leading her to the back seat of the car. He sat her against the leather seats, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

Camila took in the view of his face, his hand coming up to brush her cheek gently. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern filling his voice. She nodded in response, letting out a deep shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Relief flooded through her. She wasn’t going to die tonight. Jasper had saved her. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled him towards her by the collar of his shirt into her open arms.

She wrapped them tightly around his neck, breathing in his scent. “Thank you.” She whispered, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to blink back the tears.

Jasper willed himself to pull away from her grip, pressing his lips to hers fiercely before pulling away quicker than he would have liked as he backed up further onto the pavement. “I’ll be right back, stay here.” He instructed, forcing his eyes to leave hers as he stepped away.

Jasper stood to his full height, closing the door of the vehicle behind him, turning to look at the group of men before him. White hot anger ripped through his chest as he assessed the men. He wanted to kill them. To rip them to shreds for even thinking about doing anything to her. The truth was, if Edward hadn’t convinced Jasper to come along on a trip to watch over Camila and Bella then they would have gone through with the unspeakable.

Edward had seen what one of the men was thinking. Had seen that he had done this sort of thing to other women before. Had seen that he would do it again given the chance. Jasper squared his shoulders pushing his power out from himself. Pushing fear into the minds of the men before him. Unspeakable fear that would never leave them, never completely. A waking nightmare that would terrify them to their last days, because as much as he wanted to physically hurt them, he knew that he couldn’t. Not with Camila so close and already afraid. This would be the next best thing. This would have to suffice. This would have to tame the beast inside of him.

Their faces morphed into looks of terror and Jasper watched, only slightly satisfied as he watched them scramble away as quickly as their feet would take them. Wishing that he could’ve somehow inflicted more terror on the men.

Jasper turned back to the car, rushing to get inside as Edward closed the driver side door. He joined Camila in the back seat, pulling her towards him and wrapping her into his grasp as Edward sped away from the scene. Camila shook in his arms, the reality of everything that had just happened lingering in the air around them. Vaguely, Jasper could hear the voices of Edward and Bella in the front of the vehicle, although he paid them no mind. All that mattered to him in that moment was Camila.

He had known deep down that something would happen, he didn’t however think it would have ever been something like this. Something like a group of revolting men attempting to take her away from him. His jaw clenched at the mere thought of it, the idea infuriating him to no end.

But what enraged him the most was the terror radiating off of Camila. The terror that those vile men inflicted on her. He realized that it was slightly hypocritical to think of these men as monsters while he sat there, knowing of his own past, knowing of the blood on his hands, but he knew he would never even think of doing such a thing to a woman.

The fact that these men had been about to do such unspeakable things to anyone was bad enough, but to her? The fire in his chest burned hotter as he imagined what he would’ve done to the men had it not been for Camila’s presence. Vivid images overtook his mind. Ripping. Tearing. Blood. Mangled bodies littering the ground. For a moment, he imagined indulging himself on that blood, feasting on the terrible men and for the first time in so long, truly satisfying his eternal thirst.

“Jasper.” Edward hissed through his teeth. Jasper’s eyes shot up to meet his brother’s in the rear view mirror, seeing his seething glare. He realized in that moment that his vivid mental imagery probably wasn’t helping Edward deal with his own fury over the situation.

Jasper sucked in a breath that his lungs didn’t need. “Sorry.” He muttered in reply, turning his attention back to the girl in his arms. She gave no sign of fright, her expression completely blank as she looked ahead in a daze, but her body continued to shake ever so slightly. Jasper felt the fear, radiating outwards from her and focused his power on trying to sooth her. Her body relaxed in his arms, letting out a sigh as she buried her face in his neck, breathing in the musky scent of him.

“Thank you.” She muttered into his skin. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was thanking him for, whether it be saving her, or helping calm her down, or both even, but she thanked him nonetheless. Regardless of its’ origin, she needed her gratitude for him to be known.

Time moved quickly in a blur around her as the car suddenly came to a halt. She looked up, realizing that Edward had parked the car, seeming to have driven to the restaurant that they had planned on meeting Angela and Jessica at. Camila’s eyes flickered up to Jasper’ face in question. “We should get you something to eat.” He said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Her eyes bore into his pleadingly. “Can we please stay in the car? I’ll eat when I get home, promise.” She begged, wanting the privacy that the restaurant would not be able to provide. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to leave his arms, his comforting embrace being one of the only things in that moment keeping her grounded. The security of his strong arms around her made her feel safe, made her feel like she was home. In reality, that is what he had become to her, her home.

Jasper paused for a moment, contemplating their options before nodding. Bella was sure to have many questions and this was definitely not the time for anything resembling a double date.

Soon, the two were alone the radio playing softly in the background of their silence. “I’m sorry.” Camila muttered quietly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Jasper’s head turned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, grabbing her chin to turn her head to force her eyes to his own.

She sucked in a shaky breath, “I wasn’t thinking when I left with Bella or I would’ve convinced her to stay with Jessica and Angela. I had headache and needed some fresh air and-“ She rambled on.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He interrupted, having not had the patience to listen to her attempt to punish herself further. “It is not your fault that there are horrible people in the world.” He assured her, resting his forehead on hers.

Camila closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of Jasper’s skin against her own. She was beyond lucky and she knew it. Lucky that Edward and Jasper were there, listening, paying attention to make sure that Bella and her were safe. She would have thanked him again if it weren’t for his persistence that it wasn’t her fault. Camila knew that it was though, knew that she should have been thinking more clearly, should have been more aware.

So, instead of thanking him once more verbally, she leaned forward to plant a kiss to his lips. She leaned fervently into the touch, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as possible, her lips moving in sync with his own. In that moment she knew. Knew that this was the coward’s way out. Choosing Jasper was most definitely the easier of her two options. Living her life with him, grasping at their forever had to be the cowardly choice, because the other option seemed so much more torturous.

Next Chapter -coming soon

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 9 months

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Hatori Sohma x F! Reader: I always have 18+ WC:3.9k / Resident: @enchantedforest-network / Masterlist(coming soon)/ Synopsis: The words 'I love you' never came out until it was too late. Seeing the man you grew up with was planning to wed his new girlfriend. You couldn't come to terms with it. Always hearing from friends he does love you, you begin to doubt it, till you talk to him. You didn't want to come between him and his new love and decide to leave. Coming back after a few years it was just you and Hatori at Shigure's home. The discussion that was long overdue for many years finally happens and it comes full of surprises. Tw: Angst in the beginning, oral sex (receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, making out, a curse being broken for Hatori, comfort, and sex in someone else house, discussing Hatori's injuries. *MINORS DNI 18+*

It’s been a while since you were faced with him. Hatori wearing his nice suit the cigarette he was exhaling from before he looked over at you.. ‘He hasn’t changed a bit’ you said to yourself as you both faced one another.

-Past-

Your mother married into the Sohma family when you were 5. You grew up knowing about the curse on the family and the members affected by it.. Growing up with Hatori, Ayame, and Shigure, they were the closest friends you had. They never made you feel out of place always including you in things they were doing. Out of the three, there was always a sense of comfort being around Hatori. Getting older it was evident that there was a connection between you both. But it would change when you left the country to pursue your own goals while Hatori attended medical school becoming the private family doctor for the Sohma’s.

It killed you to be away, but you had a goal...to do it you had to leave. You and Hatori kept in touch over the years of being over seas, but it seemed to slow down after about a few months to the point where you hadn’t heard from him. When arriving back at the estate, you found out about his engagement to Kana… Your heart broke to see the smiling woman next to Hatori when you met her. Putting on a smile in front of them, congratulating the happy couple. Maybe the feelings were one-sided all this time. Everyone was happy to see Hatori happy with someone, you had to pretend to be happy . But even when you tried to hide it was noticed by everyone your smile wasn't as sweet as it was. Ayame and Shigure knew this would be painful for you to witness.

The whole conversation played vividly in your mind when you spoke to Shigure when arriving back. “Was it all a lie?” you looked at him. You were trying to find some falseness in his eyes. “It wasn’t a lie ______, it just happened we didn’t expect Hari to fall in love with someone else when you left…I don’t think he expected it either.” Shigure watched the pain in your eyes as you were walking around the living room of your home. “This is just a thought …maybe he thought you were going to find someone out there who would make you happy, someone who can actually hold you and comfort you. things you know he couldn’t do...”

“I should have told him before I left. Why did I think waiting after so many years of being in love with him it would have taken me long to do so and now…. I can’t” Your eyes filled with tears as you quickly wiped them before they fell. “I can’t even let him know how I feel… It doesn’t matter.”

Shigure felt a bit of your pain seeing that there was always that spark between you both. To see one friend happy and another in pain he was conflicted. “I’m not saying it's too late to let him know maybe you still should. To get that closure, between you both it could help you move on.” You were contemplating Shigure's words, maybe you should… Waiting after some time till it got dark you walked towards his home. Walking down the sidewalk flashback memories of your childhood of you and Hatori displayed so vividly you thought it was real. There wasn’t one bad memory you both had. Knocking on the front door of his home you anticipated when you heard the door handle click then open to find Hatori there. “_____? It’s everything late okay?” He asked you to see if there were any injuries, if he was able to see, or if you weren’t feeling well. “Hey sorry to come so late...I’m okay.” Your tone was slightly weak paired with a small smile.

After he invited you in. You can see the photo of Kana at his side table “What brings you here?” he asked. His hands were in his pocket walking towards you he stood a few feet from you. He could see you weren’t yourself, you didn’t respond to his question originally. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

The words could leave your mouth. This was a bad idea for you to even come here, but you were here and there was no turning back. “I just wanted to talk to you about something, I just… can’t find the right words to say what I have to say without it sounding so forward.” Hatori watched your body language as you fumbled with your fingers. “There were a lot of things I hadn’t got to say before I left... one of them is a secret, I’ve kept to myself for so long debating if I should tell you or not…” Hatori could see where this was going, a part of him was hoping you weren’t going to say what he wanted to hear from you and something he couldn’t bring himself to say as well. He was with Kana someone he was planning on marrying but the girl he fell for since the moment she entered the Shoma’s estate was here in front of him. “You don’t have to say it… I know.” His purple orbs looked at you.

“I always have… I wanted to tell you but every time I got tired, I got too nervous or it was interrupted. It was hard to be in love with your best friend without expressing it. Not wanting to ruin the friendship… if it didn’t work out. I wish…” you stopped yourself in mid-sentence. “I wish I would have told you sooner and not wait till now to say how much you really meant to me.”

Hatori let out a low sigh. “It goes both ways ______. Don’t blame yourself. I had opportunities like you did and didn’t take them… When you left for school, I thought you would have forgotten about me and anyone there would sweep you off your feet. Me and Kana…. it…it just happened.” “I don’t want you to think I’m here to break you both up. I’m truly happy to see you found someone who makes you happy.” As much as you hated to say that you accompanied it with a smile. “I know she will make you happy just like you will make her happy. Seeing you smile this much I hadn’t seen since we were younger.” The smile was hiding your pain, but he could see it through the smile. “_______...” there was no doubt the feelings he tried to repress came to the surface quickly. He wanted nothing more than to bring you in his arms but the curse upon him wouldn’t let him do so. “I’m sorry.” He has a bit of resentment in his tone.

“Don’t apologize if you truly love her then marry her… I’m happy I really am.” You were trying to hold back the tears. “I-I think I should get going, I have to be leaving soon…” “leaving?” He saw you walking past him towards the door before you could reach the door, he grabbed your hand. “You're leaving, but you just got back?” “I was offered a permanent position where I was working. I was deciding if I should take it or not. I think it's time for me to move on.”

Hatori stopped himself from saying ‘don’t go’ then Kana’s face appeared in his mind. His hand released yours “If that is what you choose to do. I’m wishing you all the luck…” You nodded, still fighting the tears back. You could see the ache he was feeling as well. Your hand reached for his cheek, his eyes closed as your soft hand was gentle against his face. Even though this was goodbye for you both you had to say it to him “I will always love you.” His hand was resting against yours. “I wish things were different. I would have told you I loved you a long time ago.”

When you blinked the tears fell from your eyes. You had to get away, you couldn’t break down in front of him. You had to remove her hands from his cheek before quickly leaving his home. The more you tried to keep it together you were silent weeping to your home. You couldn’t even hear Shigure and Ayame calling out to you. That night you packed and called for the earliest flight.

“I told you nothing happened.” you walked past Shigure and Ayame who were trying to figure out what was going on. “Obviously something happened and you're not telling us,” Ayame said as he stood in front of the door causing you to stop. Noticing your eye was a bit swollen like you were crying... “As your friend, I know when something is wrong.” “I can’t just stay here knowing the person I fell in love with is going to marry someone else okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? And things would have been different if we just told each other how we felt long ago… I’m saving myself from the pain of seeing that okay?”

“He told you then…” Shigure said “Listen, you're not thinking clearly enough, maybe just getting some rest will clear your mind before taking this job offer?” “I can’t I booked the flight and this is only one departing for the next few days.” zipping up the luggage as the taxi arrived. Placing everything in the taxi you looked at Aya and Shigure. “I’m sorry guys. I know it's sudden but I have to do this for myself…I will call you when I can.”

Hatori watched from a distance, both of you looking at one another before you got into the taxi. It would be the last time you both saw each other. The following few days, Hatori and Kana wished to be married and the same day he was injured. One thing after another losing you and losing Kana wiping her memories of what they had. He was alone, he felt like he was unlovable at one point. One's memories were erased while one remained with memories of pain.

After hearing what happened to Hatori you couldn't help but feel guilty, leaving the way you did without saying goodbye properly. It was all weighing on you. Maybe he wouldn’t have asked so quickly if you just didn't tell him at all how you felt. There were times when you wanted to call him but with the first ring, you hung up. You just wanted to hear his voice and ask him how he was doing.

~~~~~~

3 years would pass when you finally decided to visit. Shigure told you that he wanted to talk to you at his home. When arriving at his home no one was there but one person. Sitting on the patio in the back to find hatori smoking a cigarette. “Hatori?” you looked at him. Putting out his cigarette he stood up. “______ it's been a while.” His voice was still so smooth and calming.

“Yeah, it has been... I was supposed to be meeting Shigure here. I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Well the moron I figured he was up to something. The rest of the Sohma’s knew about your arrival today and he asked me to come here to check out something with his finger. When I got here I saw a note he had to take off but he was expecting company and asked me to stay here till they came.” Letting out a sigh you rubbed your face. This was something that Shigure would have done. For years he wanted you both to speak and you wouldn’ be surprised if Ayame had something to do with this as well..

There was a brief silence between you both as both of you looked at one another. “I think I know why we are both here.”

“I do too.” Hatori said he looked around outside thinking Ayame and Shigure and whoever else would be around. “Let's talk inside.”

Both of you entered the home as Hatori closed the door and headed to Shigure's office. “That last time we spoke I’m sorry… I felt like I was responsible for what happened to you,” “It wasn’t your fault… I don’t want you blaming yourself over something there was no control over. We didn’t expect it to happen.” Hatori said “After we talked… it was hard to get you out of my head.. I thought rushing to get married would help me forget you but it didn’t. Deep down I knew it was a bad idea but I went with it still.” Walking towards Hatori your hand reaches you to brush his bangs away from his eye. Your hand slid against his cheek. “I wish I was there to get you through that tough part. I fought with myself wondering if I should come or not, only thinking it would get worse if I came. So I stood away. I didn't want to be the reason for you getting hurt again..”

“I know _____… after the incident, I gave up on love for a while. I didn’t even try, just keeping myself busy with work. But still, you were there, always pondering in the back of my mind. Wondering if you found someone that was gonna make you happy. Shigure and Ayame would keep me updated with you and how you were doing. Seeing some photos you sent made you seemed happy.” “Hatori…” you were gathering what you were going to ask him. “Do you remember the last thing I told you?”

He nodded “I will always love you… is that still true _____?” “I never stopped.”

“The only time I was truly happy that I could remember what was being around you and it was all the time. For you to love someone like me after everything that has happened...I haven't stopped loving you since the beginning.”

The next movement that happened so quickly was when Hatori pulled you into his arms holding you closely. You were anticipating for him to turn into a seahorse but he stood the same, still holding you in his arms. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to hold you in my arms.” Coming out of your state of shock you held him back. It only meant one thing that could have happened: the curse was broken. Even if Shigure stuck his nose where it shouldn’t belong he knew one thing he wanted to happen: he wanted his friends happy. Knowing how you both cared for one another deeply. Hatori could hear the sniffles coming from you. He slightly pulled away his thumb wiping away the tears “No need to cry _______. I’m here now…” his fingers tilting your head up at him he leaned in slightly softly whispering “I don’t plan on letting you go.” leaning more forward the touch of his lips against your felt so unreal words couldn’t describe how wonderful it made you feel. Hatori held you closer closing the gap between you both, his hand resting on the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. The built-up passion you both had been suppressing from one another was coming up to the surface and quick. It was a matter of time before you were against the padding cushions of the floor Hatori undoing his jacket placing it on the empty desk beside you both. “Ha-Hatori.”

“Yes?” bringing himself down lower to you. “Should we be doing this here? What if someone shows up?” asked him. “I don’t think they will. Shigure knew well enough…damn him. Did you want to stop?” he asked, you responded shaking your head quickly, and he let a low chuckle out. He leaned into your lips once again, this time deepening the kiss more feeling the tip of his tongue graze your bottom lip. You granted him access and he took no time as his tongue entered your mouth. He didn’t want to hold back anymore and now that it was just the beginning he was just getting started. Hatori undone the top buttons on the dress. The doctor's hands pushed the top of the dress open to expose your breasts. His hands moved to cup them gently, his thumbs brushing over hardened nipples. His lips found your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone.

Biting your lip enjoying his lips against your skin. Your fingers ran through his silky hair as you let out a breathy moan. Closing your eyes for that brief moment heightens the feeling of his lip on your body. Hatori made a small sound of pleasure as he felt your fingers running through his hair. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, kissing lower still.

His comment was sincere to you and caused you to blush hard. Your body is being exposed to him. Him seeing you this vulnerable was a bit embarrassing but you couldn’t bring yourself to cover up and ruin this moment between you both. "Hatori.”

"You were always the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Hatori whispered against your skin as undone the rest of your dress, his nose brushing against your panties. Your heart was racing quickly. You made brief eye contact with him. Hatori looked up at you, your eyes meeting for a moment before he returned his attention to your panties. With gentle fingers, he slid them down your legs, revealing your soft, wet folds. He inhaled sharply, the scent of arousal filling his senses. your eyes focused on his next action eager for his next action anticipation was running through your veins.

His gaze locked onto your aroused form how wet you already become. Slowly, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your folds teasingly before finally his tongue slid between your slits. You felt your legs trembling feeling his tongue between your folds.

"Mmm..," Hatori moaned softly as his tongue slid deep inside of you, tasting you thoroughly. He thrust his tongue inside of you, moving his lips against your folds before sliding back inside, slowly, deeper and deeper.

"oh god," you were biting back the moans but it was hard. Even if someone was around the home they were gonna hear your voice. Your back arched as your tongue explored between your aching lips the sound of him slurping at your throbbing cunt was filling the room. Hatori was savoring every moan coming from you. It was turning him on causing his member to throb inside his slacks.

Hatori groaned softly as he continued to taste you, his tongue sliding in and out of your slick heat as he explored your folds and stimulating your clit with his tongue. Your hand began to explore your own body as you began to massage your breast. "Hatori mmm you're gonna make me cum. I- I don't wanna cum just yet." whimpering at his touch.

"Really now?" a bit of taunting was on his voice, lap at your folds continuously. His fingers found their way between your legs,sliding into you."You're so tight..." his skillful hand began to pump in and out of you.

"Hatori~~~~!" you cried out.

Feeling you starting to get close, Hatori increased his pace, his fingers thrusting faster and deeper inside of you. "Cum for me, ______," he whispered against your folds, his other hand finding its way up to massage one of your breasts. The heat of your body began to increase as your body began to release the blissful sensation that was coming on strongly. The sudden shudder of your body as you climax rushed through your body. You held your breath for a brief moment as the pleasureful ambiance took over you.

"Oh, sweetheart," he slid his fingers out of you coated in your juices. your body was still trembling from your orgasm, raising his body up he finished getting undressed. Bringing himself down. Hatori's lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me what you want,______." You felt his body against yours

"For you to claim me, Hatori." your hand cupping his cheeks, your thumbs swiping backs and fourth across his cheeks dropping his head closer to your overwhelming him as he rolled his hips forward, his hard length pressing against your entrance.

"Are you sure, love?" whispering in a soft tone.

"It's all I ever wanted. I give myself to you." With a soft smile, Hatori leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue danced with yours as his hands slid down your body. The sudden movement of his cock sliding into you made you tense up just a bit as he was stretching you out. Hatori was going gentle as possible a he could feel you clenching around him. "nnnngghhh"

Feeling your tension, Hatori held onto you whispering soothing words that made you relax a bit so it didn’t hurt much. "Let me show you how much I care for you." he gave you a moment before he proceeded to thrust slowly inside of you knowing you needed to adjust to his length. You expected it to be painful considering this was the first time you had done this but when the pain began to subside the thrusting continued to pick up speed. Hatori continued to thrust slowly inside of you, feeling the tightness of your walls grip him. He moaned softly, the head of his cock brushing against your sensitive spots with each thrust...Your fingers intertwined with his and the moans were being muffled as you both locked lips with one another. Each time he pushed deeper, he felt your walls pulse around him. Hatori's body sank into yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. both your lips found one another once more. your arms draping around his neck. His tongue danced together with yours. As Hatori felt the heat between them intensify, he began to pick up the pace even more, his hips slamming into yours in a rhythmic pattern. Letting a slight yelp out. Both of you exchanged sweet words feeling the tension building within you both. "You have always been the one _______" His fingers dug gently into your hips, urging him deeper inside you. ‘This feels so good. I’m not gonna much longer. ’

" Hatori don’t stop nghhh." whimpering as he obliged by your request. Seeing you quiver as he could feel you clenching around him.

"_______" he moaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm close." gritting his teeth

"m-me too” your lowered eyelid expression showed a hazy appearance in them. Seeing your pupils dilated became too intoxicating to him.

Feeling the surge of climax approaching, Hatori couldn't hold back any longer. His thrusts became harder, faster, driving deeper into you. His moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as he found release within you. His pelvis pressed against yours holding the position as his cock began to milk inside of you. His eyes didn't pry from yours not one bit. Even just after the climax, it took you both a minute to regain some form of conciseness, your hand reaching up to him as your thumb slid back and forth against his bottom lip.

Panting heavily, Hatori leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. "I will always love you, ________."

~~~~~~~

Scoping behind the bushes around his home. They were ready for love story to unfold infant of them. When Shigure and Ayame saw you and Hatori enter the home and close the door. They popped their heads out of the bush. “Aww I was expecting them to just say it all right now confessing their dying love for one another,” Ayame spoke in his theatrical tone.

“Well maybe I would have liked to hear what they had to say to one another, possibly give me ideas for another book I’m doing” Shigure scratched the back of his head. Few minutes of silence they couldn’t hear anything. “Let's get a bit closer and see if we hear them talking.”

As both the men approached the back patio was when they heard something that froze them in their place. You call out Hatori’s name. Doing a quick turn they walked away from the patio. “Are they?” Ayame asked

“Oh yeah.. In my house….” he cleared his throat “Well I guess we can call it the love shack!”

Both he and Ayame gave each other a thumbs up.

#hatori sohma #hatori x reader #fruba x reader #fruba #the witch of one piece #val's writing #enchanted forest #fruits basket x reader #year of the dragon!

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edgarbright · 3 months

Text

Caleb = Sylus theory

And if that turns out to be incorrect, then renamed as:

My thoughts on Caleb and Sylus!

tl;dr my heart wants Caleb back as a LI and my brain continues to report that Caleb being Sylus makes a lot of sense

General spoiler warning for any game content released up until June 18, 2024. Long post is long and has pictures.

So first things first! I’m going to need everyone to think about Caleb beyond being just our sweet and teasing childhood friend. Because if we viewed the other male leads as plainly as Caleb is often viewed, then Zayne is just a workaholic doctor, Xavier is just a narcoleptic hunter, and Rafayel is just a playful-personality artist.

But we find out Zayne has done work in battle zones as a military medic and we hear how his morals and ethics are held high when organizations like Ever Group try to recruit him. We discover that Xavier is an immortal who has flown across the galaxy in a spaceship and regularly goes toe-to-toe with criminal syndicates and wanderers alike. We learn that Rafayel is a Lemurian, the God of the Sea, and an assassin who carefully and cleverly deals out bloody revenge.

While we don’t have a lot of Caleb content in the first eight chapters and side pieces, there is still a lot of information to work with! Because we know he has been around for years and must be doing something with his time when he’s not talking with MC about coming home.

And one of the clues we’re given is that he is a busy guy. In the character notes, we read that MC doesn’t see Caleb outside of holidays after he became involved with the Aerospace Academy at Skyhaven. He has since become a pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration. Then there is their last argument about how they are adults now and they don’t need to keep secrets from each other. But just when Caleb is about to open up, he locks it down. And then he’s gone.

The End? Except I don’t think that’s where his story finishes.

I. Official game descriptions

Caleb: "My childhood friend. Grandma took us in when we were young. Now he works as a fighter pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration. Ever since he went to Aerospace Academy in Skyhaven, we don’t often see each other. But we always visit Grandma during the holidays. While he loves teasing me, he’s actually a reliable person whom I trust."

Sylus: "The leader of Onychinus is said to have built his empire on illegal Evol weapons and Protocore deals. He’s the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. However, he hasn’t been seen for a while."

II. Caleb as a love interest: Brother vs childhood friend

Stating the obvious to get it out of the way: that Papergames had to give Caleb a completely different relationship role with MC in the English-speaking market is akin to a public statement that he is going to be a love interest. They would have saved themselves the trouble by leaving him as brother if he was never going to play a more intimate role with MC.

III. Caleb and MC's lingering connection: the necklace

The “When U come back,” apple-and-dog-tag necklace picked out in a style MC really liked as a present for Caleb before he left for Skyhaven.

The necklace where, in chapter 4.06 ‘Saying Goodbye,’ MC and Caleb share a Kindled moment as we take the necklace from his hand and he leans forward to let us put it on him.

The necklace that Caleb was wearing under the bulk of his jacket when he entered Grandma’s house before the explosion.

The necklace that is nowhere to be seen after the explosion, but suddenly appears on the ground in front of us when MC looks back down. Caleb was wearing that necklace when he entered the house, but here it is now, completely intact. MC’s hands are covered in dirt and ash while the necklace is in clean condition.

Caleb is alive in one way or another. And the necklace, now back in MC’s possession, is a tie that still binds them.

IV. Official Announcement of the Next Male Lead

(Disclaimer: I am only able to go off the English fan translation and google translations so my interpretation is at the mercy of missed nuances from word choice and mis-translations. But we’re just here to be delusional have fun, so play nice!)

During the CBT in 2023, Papergames released this announcement:

Then on February 24, 2024 as part of an apology post to angry Chinese players, Papergames provided a follow-up and official confirmation that hunters will get to meet the next love interest, Qin Che/Sylus, in the next big story update coming this July 2024.

This February announcement does not mention Caleb, but then the original Q&A was clearly only referencing a question regarding a single pre-mentioned person. So between CBT and now, my understanding is that we have only ever been promised one new male lead to top us off at a quartet.

And in that initial announcement in CBT, it continues to strike me as strange that they talk about this mystery man Sylus and then they bring up Caleb. They first talk at length about someone we don’t know at all and then about someone the CBT players were already interested in: our doting brother/childhood friend, someone who clearly likes us, someone whom the MC obviously likes in return, someone with a unique personality from the other LI, and someone we have lost and grieved over and want back.

But the official name of the next male lead is Sylus.

“His identity and your relationship to him,” however, could also suggest that the name “Sylus” may not be his true name. Is there just some guy named Sylus walking around Linkon City or does he become Sylus when associated with Onychinus and when he enters the N109 zone? After all, his identity is a question, it is a mystery, he is mystery, and our relationship to him is a question. Our true relationship to him is in question, because perhaps it is someone we thought we knew but didn’t truly know at all.

V. Sylus: a powerful persona in the N109 zone

As the main story plot progresses and MC sets her sights on entering the N109 zone, she learns that the acquisition of a bold fake identity is a key part to her safety. By the sound of it, even someone like Xavier doesn’t enter as Xavier, but instead as Lumiere as it was Lumiere who was rumored to have caused a mess there recently.

Therefore I’m further encouraged that the name “Sylus” could just be a new identity for someone we already know. Even more so, once ‘Caleb the fighter pilot from the Deepspace Aviation Administration’ has officially been declared dead, the only identity left to him is Sylus.

But strangely enough, after Caleb is gone, even the character description states Sylus hasn’t been seen for a while, either…

VI. Symbols: the jacket and the crow

Caleb is wearing a Deepspace Aviation Administration (DAA) jacket before he begins attending the Airspace Academy at Skyhaven, as seen in the flashback scene. He is still wearing the same jacket on the last day we see him in chapter 4.

Of interest, in chapter 3, we see a crow in the forest watching MC and Xavier after they destroy the developing Aetherwyrm and taking Onychinus's modified Protocore.

Note the diagonal orange bars on the mechanical feature on the crow’s left wing and the design on the jacket on Caleb’s left chest:

The bars mirror one another. The crow seems to have four bars but only three are full whereas the jacket shows four full bars.

Note as well on the jacket's left arm: the crow-like head triangle with the curved wings.

With MC currently entangled in tens of thousands of years of history with three other men, I don’t think this is a game that deals with mere coincidences.

But considering this crow symbol existed on the DAA jacket before Caleb went to the academy teases all types of connections and, most appropriately, spacetime considerations rooted around the Deepspace Tunnel.

VII. The Deepspace Aviation Administration

After completing his training at the Airspace Academy, Caleb rose up to become a pilot in the Deepspace Aviation Administration. His whole job involves flying around and near the Deepspace Tunnel.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that the Linkon broadcaster speaks of so frequently regarding possible Wanderer appearances.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that appeared at the time of the catastrophe.

The same Deepspace Tunnel that Xavier and the Backtrackers took to travel from Philos to Earth.

Just as MC is learning new and weird things about the world while working as a hunter, surely Caleb has come across some new and weird things, too.

MC states that the DAA is secretive but Caleb takes it a step further: it’s not just secretive, it’s spooky! It’s creepy! It’s mysterious! It’s shadowy!

Whatever the DAA is dealing with isn’t, necessarily, normal!

Because while the DAA is of course focused on the Deepspace Tunnel, we have also heard that some of their interests lie in the Lemurian ruins…

So we shouldn’t take the Deepspace Aviation Administration at face value. Honestly, nothing in this game appears to be as good and pure as it seems! It’s suspicious that MC works as a hunter in the Unicorns division when Unicorn was also the code name for her as an experiment. The public face of Ever Group has them seeming to work medical miracles and conducting revolutionary science, but we know they conducted cruel experiments on MC, we have clues they experimented on Lemurians, and it’s revealed they have dark dealings with the Backtrackers.

Note that while Sylus is the leader of Onychinus and built it up as an empire, that doesn’t necessarily mean he is the founder. The Deepspace Aviation Administration could easily have criminal ties of their own or be a cover for a front for their true reason to exist.

But whatever is going on with the DAA, Caleb has been involved in it for many years and has kept it secret from MC this whole time.

VIII. Male Lead Introductions

It feels too strange to think that Sylus will be an entirely new face because not only would that put him at a disadvantage, it would neglect a lot of clues and game features laid out for his association and arrival.

For starters, Xavier, Rafayel, and Zayne are all introduced to MC in the very first chapter. They get faces and little encounters to go along with them.

Meanwhile Caleb is faceless. He is just a voice in chapter 1. But to the MC, it’s the familiar voice of someone she obviously knows and loves and is excited to see again. She has history and memories and a developed relationship with this person.

But even through the teasing affection shared between MC and Caleb over the phone, his face and expressions are left in the dark. He is a mystery to us.

Except… maybe we do see a face of Caleb? In the face of the all-seeing-eye of Onychinus that appears a moment after MC gets off the phone with him.

So, going back to that CBT announcement, Papergames asks if the players found any clues regarding Sylus in the main story… right before they bring Caleb into the conversation, who for all intents and purposes is dead? Whether they were making a hint or not right there it’s too suspicious.

IX. Lore: The Eye in the Sky Watching Over MC

We spot the red eye watching MC on at least three occasions:

[Top left image] At the end of chapter 1: After MC has completed her first day as a hunter and Caleb bids her goodnight after their phone call, she sees the eye for a moment outside her window as the weather begins to turn bad.

[Bottom left image] In chapter 3: MC recalls a reoccurring nightmare when her 7-year-old self was running blindly in pain and fear during the Chronorift Catastrophe. While she initially thinks it is the moon, when she wakes up she realizes it was actually the same eye she saw in chapter 1. Of interest, notice how her description of the eye’s arrival is portrayed rather positively:

Rusty-red rain falls from the sky and seeps into every nook and cranny of the city. I step over the puddles, running away. I sense a powerful force. It's about to burst from my heart. Then the moon appears. Magnificent, it descends before me. It flickers. It seems to be blinking at me.

[Right image] At the Nest in chapter 8: the eye is in a robotic contraption watching events unfold on Hunting Day and when MC is captured.

So it seems this eye has been with her since she was seven years old and it found her before even Xavier did. As an observation vessel, however, it was not able to help her. All it can do is watch. So the question is who has been watching her from the other end? Ever Group? Onychinus? The Backtrackers? Caleb in some form?

X. Caleb is never doing what MC expects

On the phone call in chapter 1, MC thought he would still be in-flight, but he brushes it off by saying they finished early. He uses this surprise “free time” to call her right when she returns home and asks how her first day as a hunter went.

When MC arrives to Grandma’s house in chapter 4, she thought he wouldn’t arrive until the next day at the earliest, but he was already home. He uses this surprise “free time” to cook and have dinner ready for her right when she arrives.

He just always seems to be a step ahead of the MC… for the sake of doting on MC!

But it’s still rather odd that lower-level military personnel would get early clock-outs so conveniently when activity in the Deepspace Tunnel and appearance of Wanderers are on the rise…

And what is he doing that is making him so sleep-deprived?

XI. FM News vs Caleb: Deepspace Tunnel Activity

For the record, all of chapter 1 takes place over a single day. MC starts her morning by receiving her badge; spends the day hunting Wanderers, meeting Xavier, and getting her placement in alpha team; spends the evening with Tara before she meets Rafayel; rushes to her 6pm check-up appointment with Zayne; has a nighttime phone call with Caleb; and spots the eye outside her window before bed.

And from morning to night, the news report and Caleb’s report are complete opposites.

“Hello, Linkon City. DPSC FM here to greet you on this early morning. Did you sleep well last night? Weather's nice today with winds at 5 km/hr. Certain areas have a higher Metaflux index due to the Deepspace Tunnel. Expect Wanderers to appear more often. We would like to thank the hunters in the city for allowing us to live a normal, peaceful life. Next, a detailed report for each district. Areas that are at a "high risk" of being attacked by Wanderers-- All medical personnel, today is going to be another busy day.”

Compared to

MC: "Did you guys encounter any Wanderers in the Deepspace Tunnel? Was it dangerous?" ... Caleb: "All right. It's been peaceful. The field within the tunnel is as stable as it can be. Very few Wanderers. Don't worry." MC: "Really? Every time you tell me not to worry..." Caleb: "Everything else is top secret. My lips are sealed."

Now, it’s entirely possible that he’s lying about the danger in order to make MC feel better, but if he was lying and the situation was more severe, he wouldn’t have gotten off work early and been able to call her.

Which also brings up the question: is he even at Skyhaven or with the Deepspace Aviation Administration at this time...?

XII. Theory Speed Bump: the Exploding House

During the phone call in chapter 1, Caleb sounds very relaxed about MC having become a hunter on her first day. He asks her how it went and when she starts talking about having had some trouble, he teases her to stop--because he knows she did well! They go on to tease each other about when he’s going to next visit and he says a very sweet good night. He doesn’t sound worried for her safety or anxious or anything of the like.

The visit at Grandma’s house in chapter 4 is a little different. He seems more worried.

Caleb shows up a day early—and if he is Sylus, leader of Onychinus who are wildly in-the-know, obviously his connections would have alerted him to the moving activity posing a danger toward MC and Grandma. But considering how well Xavier stays off most radars, the other Backtrackers are quite good at moving in secret, too. Knowing there is danger isn’t the same as knowing where or when exactly it will hit.

From the World Underneath files, Ever Group appears to have lost track of experiment subject “Unicorn,” but they still had tabs on Josephine as one of their former researchers. The files the Backtracker acquired after the explosion that he delivered to the Ever Group’s Raincoat appears to be their confirmation on MC’s identity. Although we’re left listening to the lackey’s discussion, it doesn’t appear that Ever Group intended to do MC harm just yet, but that doesn't mean she couldn't have accidentally been caught up in the explosion, too.

While MC and everyone are at the table eating, the story about the multiple metaflux explosions are shown on the TV.

When MC excuses herself from the table in order to go scout the neighborhood, Caleb, who just voiced concerns for her safety, jumps up and follows her.

Caleb very obviously lies about going shopping (my guy has empty hands when he reappears). He continues to follow her, albeit from a distance as he is not quick enough to get involved in MC’s encounter with the sneaking Backtracker (note how the MC observed that the man sounded much older than he looked).

Although it’s interesting how, after Caleb knows she was attacked and how he stuck by her side as often as he could while they were outside, he enters the house first and leaves her alone outside.

But the only reason he entered the house first and alone was because MC told him to go inside first. He was the one who suggested they return home before Grandma got worried. Whatever danger Caleb was on high alert for, I’m left conflicted if an exploding house was something he considered since it was his idea to return.

His necklace magically appearing in front of MC after the explosion, however, suggests he was involved in the necklace placement in some way.

Also we don't know what his Evol is exactly. Some players have suggested telekinesis or gravity based on how he was able to take the necklace from MC in the flashback. Magnetic force should also be considered, I think, but I won't open that can of worms here. The question is still: how deep does this rabbit hole go? Was Caleb caught in an explosion he was prepared for and escaped or is another force at work here? We know there have been many Rafayels and Zaynes in the timeline. Maybe there are many Calebs, too.

XIII. Grandma's records have no mention of Caleb

Before she took in MC, Josephine states in the World Underneath files that she has never had children before. Meaning Caleb was not in the picture before MC.

In the game character notes, MC says Grandma took both MC and Caleb in when MC was seven years old.

So where did Caleb come from? And what made her take him in, too?

When we are at Grandma’s house, we also see just one picture frame. The only ones in the picture are MC and Grandma.

In all of Grandma’s notes, there is not one mention of Caleb. There is just one instance where it looks like his name ought to be, but the notes trail off instead with an ellipsis.

Did she herself exclude him from her records or was his name purposefully removed?

Nonetheless, I'm sure the leader of Onychinus would value such anonymity, if it were him.

XIV. "A decisive man as always"

At the family meal, MC expresses concern regarding Grandma’s health. Caleb speaks up and shares that he has taken care to see that Grandma is cared for.

When MC, a little peevish-sounding in English, asks him the when and why, all Caleb does is let out a small laugh and goes back to eating.

Grandma notes that she didn’t know about this plan either. "A decisive man as always," she says with a troubled expression.

And thus Grandma has thrown an interesting character trait into the mix as Caleb always seems so laid-back with MC like he’s simply going with the flow of things. Except it’s clear he’s decisive, determined, and taking care of things behind the scenes. And surely that includes taking care of MC.

XV. Sylus's Character

We have two points of concrete information about Sylus.

The first is the game description, which I’ll repeat here: “The leader of Onychinus is said to have built his empire on illegal Evol weapons and Protocore deals. He’s the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. However, he hasn’t been seen for a while.”

The second is an observation made by Captain Jenna in chapter 3:

"We speculate it’s not about money, given Sylus’s track record," she says.

So Sylus "is said to have built" a whole empire on illegal sales but apparently he’s OK with his sales taking a loss because it’s not about money. We see in several news reports in-game about the amazing medical progress made due to the use of Protocores. Modified Protocores, especially such revolutionary ones made by Onychinus, should easily be worth more than their weight in gold. The one that MC and Xavier take from the forest is even powerful enough to start the revival process of the strongest type of Wanderer.

So we have this mysterious Sylus who has prioritized power and influence over wealth, but what can he possibly do with those if he’s gone AWOL…?

But such a decisive man who has gained authority over the N109 zone likely has everything under control, right?

XVI. Grandma Josephine vs Caleb

In chapter 4 under the title “Secret,” in part due to the mysterious locked box MC receives, we the player (not MC) learn that Grandma had entrusted MC to Zayne if the “worst-case scenario happens.”

But what about Caleb? We know that he is away from home very often so it’s highly unlikely anyone should consider something bad happening to both her and him. The “us” she uses could mean them both, but it seems more likely she meant Zayne’s promise to Grandma and MC (as MC is the beneficiary).

Let’s go back to that family meal conversation and see the follow-up reactions that show some interesting motives:

We have Caleb taking responsibility for family matters, MC and Grandma caught by surprise—then look at what Grandma does: she doesn’t argue with his decision, but instead turns to MC and immediately encourages her to get back in touch with Zayne.

Caleb’s response to that in turn is to suggest that instead of Zayne and MC meeting alone, Zayne should come for a family dinner. Caleb’s reaction feels rather sarcastic with the emphasis on “looong time.” Zayne is given the treatment of, rather than being a family friend, he is more like that kid they used to know back in grade school. Which is true. Zayne has been absent in MC and Caleb's lives for the past 10 years. Zayne hasn’t been in the picture since MC was about eleven years old and it’s been Caleb looking after MC as her childhood friend/brother this whole time.

So it’s no surprise when MC and Caleb are walking back home together that their conversation turns out like this:

"If not me, who could you possibly turn to for…" he begins, then stops. He smiles bitterly, shakes his head, and plays it off.

Is this him choking up on his yearning? Is this him realizing what Grandma tried to do earlier by bringing up Zayne, and realizing there are other people MC can turn to? Is this him realizing MC is right, that he really can’t protect her forever? Is this him realizing he can’t protect her as just Caleb? Or is there something else going on in that head of his?

It seems to me that not only are Grandma and Caleb not working together at this point, despite them both prioritizing MC's safety, Grandma might not consider Caleb outside of being the family cook!

What does Grandma know about Caleb that would make her turn to Zayne instead?

XVII. What Onychinus knows about MC's Aether Core (spoiler: everything)

Summary: This all happened in the immediate aftermath of the Chronorift Catastrophe. Dr. Noah was bought into the picture shortly after Grandma took MC into her home. Around that same time, one of the researchers who experimented on MC joined up with Onychinus. From that point on, all the other researchers started dying or disappearing—except for Grandma Josephine.

Grandma, however, is eventually killed by the Backtrackers hired by Ever Group, who had been looking for details about their missing Unicorn.

MC notes that Grandma didn’t leave any work files at home. Therefore Caleb wouldn’t have learned anything at the home.

But because Onychinus knows everything through that researcher, Sylus also knows everything that happened to MC. He knows what Josephine did. He knows about MC’s condition. He knows about her special heart. He knows about the Aether Core. He knows what dangers might pursue MC.

And what is Onychinus’s main project? Modifying Protocores.

MC learns that the frequency of her heart matches that of the modified Protocore she found in the restricted zone with Xavier. Both her heart and that modified Protocore had been effected by an Aether Core.

The crucial part I’m getting at is that Onychinus already knows about MC before she ever went to the Nest. They have known about her for around 15 years and during all this time Onychinus have never, ever approached or harmed her!

In this Sylus = Caleb scenario, he already has MC (trust me! he pleads), he already has her Aether Core, and he's trying to keep it secret, he's trying to keep her safe.

The other researchers had to die to keep her safe, because the knowledge they held of her would die with them.

"If not for me, who could you turn to for..." Caleb had once started to say, because if not for him, who else could have protected her all this time? Who else would work so tirelessly and decisively to do what needed to be done?

XVIII. Onychinus is not our enemy

One of the reasons I love Love and Deepspace is because the world building and lore are incredibly interesting. But we must use critical thinking because they are also deceptive. So many characters keep treating Onychinus as dangerous, as deadly, but we not only don’t know their true motive, we have no information on what bad things they’ve actually done besides existing outside normal society.

Both Jenna and Xavier tell us that Onychinus's most famous achievement is modifying Protocores. There is no word of Onychinus ever doing direct or indirect harm using these modified Protocores. We don’t even know to whom, exactly, they sell these Protocores—and we know that it’s not about money.

Onychinus is a mystery! What anyone knows about them is all speculation!

Ever Group, meanwhile, has conducted experiments on Lemurians as explored in Raymond's situation and experiments on MC when she was a child. These actions directly resulted in the "death" of MC numerous times and the probable death of at least one Lemurian if not more. In the World Underneath we discover that Ever Group also knows about the Backtrackers and about Philos. Ever Group hired the Backtracker that destroyed MC’s family. They also use Xavier and are plotting to, for lack of a better word, enslave him once they figure out the chemical compound of the medication he and the other Backtrackers use as injections.

It’s not a mistake, however, that Ever Group is praised by the public for their ingenuity and medical advances for the sake of a better society while Onychinus is treated as dangerous renegades.

Then there is also the Deepspace Aviation Administration who are "unraveling the unknown" at the Deepspace Tunnel while fighting Wanderers.

XIX. I promise you’ll see me every day when you wake up ;)

For the longest time I read Caleb's final promise at face value. He was coming back home to visit, so every morning when MC wakes up at Grandma’s house, she’ll see Caleb.

And I know I’m not the only one who shouted OBJECTION after the explosion (All Men Do Is Lie)!

Except waking up doesn’t have to be literal.

In the pre-registration announcement video released November 1, 2023, Zayne says the following line:

“When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not meet again.”

Perhaps MC just needs to wake up to the truth—the truth of what happened to her before she met Caleb and Zayne and Rafayel and Xavier, the truth of what Grandma and the scientists did to her as a child, the truth… of what she might find in the N109 zone, where Onychinus is, where the question to Sylus and her relationship with him will be answered…

When MC learns the truth, when she opens her eyes to the real world, she will see Caleb again.

(She will get to see him every day just like he promised.)

XX. Theoretical consideration: we’re in a time loop with possible time travel

If there are multiple timelines, it’s possible that the Sylus-Caleb we eventually meet isn’t the Caleb who entered that house before the explosion. They could be the same but different. Perhaps Caleb in one timeline died in that house while a Caleb in another timeline did not. Perhaps the necklace we picked up belonged to a different Caleb.

Because let’s be real, everything is a bit of a mess now: Dawnbreaker and Zayne sharing dreams, Xavier as an immortal alien on a completely different planet, and Rafayel has a millennia of emotional baggage to unpack and a lost civilization he has yet to revive.

There are also the rhythms in which the characters are living in their respected timelines. We have Xavier the immortal who has witnessed the many lives of MC living and dying tragically and being reborn again and again. We have Rafayel who is in a matched reincarnation cycle with MC where he seems to meet her in each life, but she has forgotten him while he may or may not have forgotten her. We have Zayne who is in an unmatched reincarnation cycle with MC where he may or may not meet her in each life, but he sacrifices himself for her sake at each end.

Let's not overlook the possibility of an actual time traveler with Sylus. Perhaps even one who has been looking for a timeline where he can keep MC safe. After all, coming late into the game, Sylus will need to have a new spin to his myth and connection with MC if he's going to compete!

Plus Caleb is also represented by the apple, the forbidden fruit: take even the smallest bite and be banished from paradise. But a bite of the apple also wakes one up to the truth, to the sense of shame, to desire, to sin, to love…

"I promise you’ll see me every day when you wake up," he said.

(And I’m a fool who wants to believe him 🍎)

#my lnds #love and deepspace #love and deepspace spoilers #lnds caleb #lnds sylus

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krahk · 5 months

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five : Part Six

Masterlist

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Seven

(Or, Alastor and the infuriating woman across the hall and her bad decision making)

Minors DNI, 18+ below

Across the hall, Alastor sat on the edge of his bed naked except for his unbuttoned shirt, head in his hands. He stared down at the proof of his lack of control, his seed that had been captured in his handkerchief and left on the floor as a reminder of this act of weakness. What was happening to him? He had never felt such urges of a sexual nature before, there was always a better way to spend his time. Even overworld, he was ambitious in his passion - there was no time to dilly dally with the fairer sex, broadcasting was an aggressive career path, even more so for a mixed person like him. He required focus, driven to prove himself to those who doubted him.

When his mother fell ill, his sisters - married with children, did not ask for but received his help. He moved his mother into his home for a comfortable life with visits from doctors as her body betrayed her. It was difficult watching her waste away, and he used his extracurricular hobby to distract him from watching her deteriorate. He couldn’t remember the exact reason for the first murder, his routine had not been established yet. But the thrill, the joy, the stimulation of taking the life of an undeserving human blessed with a healthy body while his mothers failed hers gave him a high like no other.

He was quite aware that becoming a prolific serial killer was not the best way to process grief and trauma, nor was it what his mother would have wanted from him. But it seemed like the best way to punish god for taking from those that deserve, that praised him, to enrich the lives of those that mocked. He did commit murder, yes. But it was morally argued (to him) that those lives he took were unwarranted of such a gift. They were liars and cheats, rapists and abusers - one of his final victims he discovered on the same burial ground where he discarded bodies, while this stranger was disposing of his own victim.

He was well deserving indeed, the cause for many young women disappearing off the streets. Mimzy had told him of a John coming by and taking women out who would never be seen again. Once they discovered each other, there was a fight in the bayou, one where Alastor would come out on top but the thrill of fighting his victim became part of his routine, unable to match the same energy without it. He held no qualms about his final actions in life, he had made his choices and Hell was the place to reflect on it but not regret it.

Redemption was not in his cards as he did not feel he would be able to even regret killing the people he murdered. Each and everyone deserved it. Likely the only regret he carried was that one night he did not come home, his death resulting in his mothers inevitable loneliness paired with the discovery that her son was a murderer. He might not have been considered a ‘good’ person in the end, finding more joy in murder than anything else, but he did think he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.

Since your arrival, his entire being has shifted into something…new. Beyond the bond the two of you shared through his reckless behaviour on earth, you were a fresh sinner. You still acted, spoke, dreamed like you were alive. He heard you constantly correcting yourself when talking with the others, to remember you were dead. Though your own task work through the hotel had been quiet, seemingly boring, you did it with a vibrancy he had not felt himself for decades. Your heart rate would increase when laughing with Angel, your cheeks would burn when Husk would give you a strong drink - things that made him live through it either in his room or while he lurked in the shadows. Nothing he did was ever alone anymore. You were something else entirely, and he was unsure if he would not be feeling anything with regards to your presence, you reminded everyone around you what it was like to be alive.

Yet there was a small voice that betrayed his very way of thinking, one that caused grief when it came to you. He knew very well that without your accidental completion of the half witted, unfinished spell work he truly did forget about, your soul would likely have gone to heaven. Though the judgement between sinners and ‘winners’ was not absolute in who was allowed to ascend, souls like yours did not settle with the scum that was found traversing the streets of Hell. You found a radio while cleaning up for a family you did not know, on break from your simple, modest lifestyle splitting your time from volunteering, or running marathons, or bouncing from one job to another trying to find your path through life. You rarely said anything negative, about anyone, unless it was an honest truth needed to be heard from the one you were talking to. Even then your words were gentle and caring. It was very clear it was his fault you were here, with him. Your soul came to join with the linked soul…and he was here first.

His hands fisted the hair on his head, eyes furrowed and smile shaking. Was his divine punishment supposed to continue with the fact he knew he sabotaged your afterlife? Or that the new emotions and sensations he was feeling were undeserved of someone of your calibre? Did you have similar thoughts? These questions plagued him for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was unlike him to care what anyone thought of him, for another, it was unlike him to care for another. Especially to lust after another. Sexual relations had been such an easy thing for him to avoid that now it seemed his mind was trying to make up for lost time. Everything you did was beginning to send him into a spiral, and much of the time he spent around you was containing his physical reaction to the simplistic things you did, that he would twist into something sinful.

Like today, when you were finally given breakfast, your eyes closing and lips licking as you ate whatever over sugared pastry Lucifer had grabbed for you. It was easy to imagine you in another situation, one away from prying eyes. Where the two of you could push and pull differing sensations through your bond, linking the two of you through sin. Or earlier this week, when you were reading a book in the sitting room, focused on the words on the pages, licking your fingers to turn a page, or wetting your lips during an intense storyline. He was entirely too focused on you and your actions, and the worst part was he was unsure if he could simply blame the tainted magic of your bond.

You were a demented reminder of what he had denied himself in life, a ballooning heart at every fleeting touch. He was having a difficult time remembering what he used to do or what made his mind content before you. He needed to revisit old haunts. Perhaps today he would take a walk through the doomsday district and take a few people out of their misery. Since he introduced you to Rosie she was likely not a safe place to ignore your presence as you had never once brought anyone of considerable interest for her to meet before, she would have some interrogating for him once he revisited Cannibal Town.

Yes, a visit through a district where people were. Most itching to get the worst of it over with, it was already expected by them. His presence would be doing them a favour, really. Yes, a reminder of what used to get his blood boiling before you came crashing down into his life would be an excellent distraction. Mind set on his next move, he cleaned and dressed himself for a night on the town, silently exiting the hotel with intention.

The next morning after your very intense and unexpected kiss from Alastor, your body still felt exhausted, almost like you had overextended yourself. You didn’t remember your dreams, but you were sure they were a mental drain considering the headache you were nursing. Coffee was in the Lounge, and Vaggie was sitting alone on a couch, still silent and distressed from her past coming out to the hotel. You had already reassured her that none of you really cared, this was hell, after all. But for her the only person who mattered was still avoiding her. She had been staying in a vacant room since the meeting with heaven, wanting to respect Charlie’s wish for space. You decided to enjoy your coffee on the veranda outside, wanting to give the other woman some space, and hopefully aid your head with some fresh air.

While you were checking the Hellblazer News, a small independent paper produced out of the business district, Angel came home from what was obviously a long night at the studio. When he noticed you he came and sat beside you, groaning and sinking into the chair.

“Val has been dogging me since we went out, he is so much worse than usual.” He complained, checking his phone notifications, clearing all the ones from Val, which were nearly all of them. “I’m not saying that I regret what I said, because there was no way I was lettin’ him touch anyone, but I wish I could do more than just pay for it later.” You nodded at his statement, but said nothing to encourage him to continue.

“When I came to hell I carried my sexuality like a burden, like I did overworld. It was way easier to get drugs down here, and I was easy to manipulate. I know it was my fault I gave my soul to Val because I thought he loved me, but I wish I could go back to my old self and let him know I didn’t need his love to feel good.” He sighed, enjoying a moment of silence while responding to a few texts. “Please tell me you have had shit men ruin your life too, miss girl, this can’t just be a one way street.” He smiled at his own statement, winking at you when you chuckled lightly at his self deprecating comment. You gave him an apologetic look, as your experience with men in general was pretty limited.

“My dad died when I was little, so no daddy issues…or does that give you extra daddy issues?” You said more to yourself, but Angel laughed out a ‘yea baby’ at your expense, “My mother was paranoid, positive every man ever was going to kidnap me. When she died I dated for the first time, straight out of high school, but he wasn’t bad or anything…just…I don’t know, someone to kill time with. I had no one around me, my family was small except for my Mum’s distant family in Louisiana, so I just used a dating app to waste time. But overall, my experiences have been pretty uneventful.” Mind you, this was all before Alastor, which you would not be discussing with Angel.

Angel was nodding, likely half paying attention as he was yawning every other minute, but just engaging in the conversation was good. These regular gossipy conversations distracted from your situation, which though you had mostly processed, still didn’t mean you always remembered you were in Hell. Even when you thought you knew what hell really was you were reminded of worse things you dealt with when you were actually Alive. Hell had friends, at least. Something that was sorely lacking in your life before.

“So are ya tellin’ me you don’t gotta lot of ‘experience’ with the opposite sex, girly?” He waggled his eyebrows, a smirky grin present. OH now he was engaged, because he was nosy about your sex life.

You laughed at him out right. “I’ve done…stuff, Angel. No like…actual sex, but like…oral and hands and things. The guy I did it with was selfish, and he hurt me when he tried using his hands - not a good listener. So I broke it off before we could go further. I had a feeling I wouldn’t enjoy it much. I’m pretty in tune with my own body though, and I did have some personal aides on earth. But I’ve always been more comfortable with myself.” Angel gawked at you during your ramble, you knew what was coming. “Are you tellin’ me that you’re basically a virgin?” You groaned.

“No. I mean, in the most literal sense? Yes. But I have used toys, and have had sexual contact with a guy, but honestly I don’t think of myself as one. I know what I like, and I’m totally content with that. There haven’t been many opportunities for me to hook up. Especially now, cause like…we’re in hell.” Angel burst out laughing.

“Hell is WHERE you get these opportunities! You are hilarious. Funny girl, you kill me.” You frowned at him in humour as he lost his composure. “This is where I have experienced most of my sexual escapades, and I am sure glad for it. No judgement here, that already happened.”

You spoke up in defence of yourself, “well what if I’m still waiting for a deeper connection?” He scoffed at you, back at his phone, “I can get ya a deep connection, if you get what I mean.” Eyebrows taunting you, and you burst into laughter again, causing him to join in. After a good chuckle, you both settled into your chairs, just enjoying each other's company as Angel scrolled through his social media and you hit the bottom of your cup. It was him who broke the silence.

“I gotta real question for ya though. What is your deal with Alastor?” You tried to snort and look indifferent to him, but Angel was so goddamn good at reading people you were unsure if it would work. “What do you mean?” Attempting to sound confused at his insinuation. His deadpan look of reply made you groan inwardly. “Girl, I’m good at lots of things, but I’m best at picking up tension. Especially of the s~exual nature.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you his famous seductive eye. You thought you were keeping yourself together, hopefully you could keep it going.

You laughed, swatting your hand at him, “Me? And Him? Wait no, Him? Sexual anything? Are you sure we're thinking of the same Radio Demon? He can barely stand me, Angel, I’m sure whatever tension you’re picking up on is simply murderous.” You couldn’t meet his eyes however, staring at the horizon instead, scared the contact would break your composure.

He hmphed. “Girl, if it was murderous you couldn’t be here after he left your room last night.” Shit, he saw Alastor leave your room? Sloppy on his part. You had to go into damage control. “Nothing happened, Angel. Lucifer, Alastor and I went out earlier. And as you know, Alastor does not care for Lucifer. He was merely confirming some of the final details of Lucifer's plans, as he chose to ignore the man for a majority of our excursion.” Man, Hell was making you a great liar.

“Girl.” Okay, maybe not a great liar.

“He was zoned in on your room. On my way back to my room, he flew out of his like a bat out of here, and the vibes he was givin’ was not ‘just wanna double check a few things’, it was obvious. Plus, I didn’t hear no talking, cause your door was open. I heard some other stuff though. Sounded hot.” This was when your face broke, and a blush flew across your face. Angel’s laugh of confirmation got you to look over at him.

“Re-Lax. As if anyone would believe me if I said anything anyway. He’s a creepy mystery. And if he’s hot for you, you’ve gotta be some kinda creepy mystery as well. Cause whatever you did last night made him terrorise the doomsday district after.” He had stood up at this point, stretching so much his back cracked and he sighed in relief.

“Wait, what?” You said once his words caught up to you. “What did he do?”

Angel yawned, and tucked his chair in, leaning on it towards you. “Last night, after he left your room, he went and went full Radio Demon on their asses. Like, mass genocide shit.” Another yawn, he waved a hand at you, “I’m goin’ to bed doll. I’m beat, but yea. You wanna keep thinking nothing is happening between the two of you, you can join me on a double tonight.” You were so concentrated on your own whirlwind thoughts, you asked him to repeat himself. “You wanna join me on my double?”

“Double?” Double what? He groaned. “Fuckin’ virgins man, a double date. Cherry was gonna join me but she’s just bailed, something about blowing up a building on the edge of Vee town. Can’t blame her for wanting to but I can’t go, Val would literally kill me.” A double date? Good grief. Was that a good idea? What exactly was going on with you and Alastor anyway? It wasn’t like you two had any real discussion, you both were just playing a game of touch and go (quite literally). You hadn’t thought too much about him outside of that though. You obviously were physically attracted to him, somehow, despite his frightening existence. But was it because of the bond or because of the growing tolerance to each other's presence? You supposed there was only one way to start figuring it out.

If Alastor needed to kill a bunch of people to figure his shit out, perhaps you could do the same with dates. Angel was right, you didn’t have a lot of experience with men. Maybe you could have a similar connection (though not so binding), at least emotionally, with another person? Who knows. You reluctantly agreed to join Angel, deciding getting out of the hotel, away from Alastor, might help you think. After getting the details from him he left, and you sat in your chair, instantly regretting what you had just agreed to. And regretting that you would have to convince Husk to 3rd wheel with the two of you. You groaned, rubbing and squishing your face with your hands.

Later that night, after complete Radio Silence from Alastor save for his actual broadcast of jazzy upbeat lackadaisical tunes, Angel dressed you up like a little doll and the two of you all but skipped downstairs, geared up to go. You were going to be walking to this club called ‘Lounge’. It served appetisers, cocktails and had live music. It really sounded like a good time and when you focused on that part, not the date, you were pretty stoked. The dress code was semi-strict, according to Angel, and he had chosen a tight black turtleneck dress that went down to your knees, but lacked sleeves. Because of this, the black gradient on your arms made it look like you were wearing opera gloves. Paired with strappy black pumps, you felt pretty fancy. Angel had dressed in a similar style, but instead of a turtleneck, the neckline was sweetheart, and on the stomach was a cutout in the shape of a heart. He wore his standard black boots up to the top of his thighs, and his hair was more tousled than usual. You hair had been pinned back into a loose updo, and the both of you had little gemstones sprinkled in your hair. Husk promised to follow behind the two of you, Angel oblivious to your little shadow, chattering about whoever it was that his date brought for you.

As you entered the club, you kept looking back, nervous until you saw Husk enter and make his way to the bar. You joined Angel in a booth, him texting presumably your dates and ordering the both of you cocktails. Whatever a Blue Hurricane was, it was delicious. But remembering the last time you got drunk you were certainly going to be taking it easy.

As the missing pair arrived, it was obvious that you would not be having a good time. The friend of Angel’s date was a weasel demon, which was the first warning. One bit you when you were a kid and the scar was still present to prove it. The second was when you first met, he was so vulgar that Husk almost got involved, thankfully catching you shaking your head furiously. You let the man talk, on and on, about what he did, liked, positions…Yea, this was a shit date.

He finally picked up that you were uninterested entirely, or he thought hitting on the waitress in front of you was smooth, you texted Angel that you were going to walk home (no worries, it wouldn’t be alone) and thanked him for inviting you out. He read it at the table and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and you left the table. Weasel demon nowhere in sight. You noticed Husk had left the bar, and you caught him as he was walking out the door, following your lead at the table. When you caught up to him, his sly smile made you laugh. “Did it look as bad as it went?”

”Dunno, how bad did it go?” The face you gave him made him laugh. “Bad. Really bad.” He smiled, “Well then yes. It looked bad. A shame really, you don’t get out much.” The two of you engaged in some polite conversation as you walked back to the hotel, Husk talking about how he used to wine and dine women when he was alive, how his luck wasn’t limited to just the table and blackjack. He was certain he had more than a few illegitimate children running around, he played fast and loose in all games, with all genders. By the time you both arrived back home, Husk was reliving how he would go to a hangout and dance all night with any girl he wanted. When you admitted no one had ever taken you dancing, he held out his hand and asked you to join him.

”But there’s no music! I may not have been dancing but I know you need music.” You exclaimed, finding the suggestion silly without the complete experience. Husk started to hum a song unfamiliar to you, and you chuckled, grabbing his hand and falling into an awkward waltz. Or at least you thought it was a waltz. It was some form of a box step, but it seemed like Husk wasn’t so much a dancer as he was a charmer. Though it appeared both of you had no structure, you were having a good time, until Husk stopped suddenly and took a step back. Your arms still lifted up, as if they were waiting for him to step back into place, and you faced the direction Husk had started to glare at.

Alastor.

He was at the very bottom of the stairs, head tilted. “What~ever are the two of you doing?” He began to come towards you as your hands lowered. Finding yourself less afraid of him these days, you spoke up. “I’ve never been dancing and I just had the absolute worst time on a date with Angel. Husk was cheering me up, and for that-“ You faced him, “I thank you. Best part of the night, although I wish the music was a bit clearer.” He smiled slyly and tipped his hat to you as he bowed, “Pleasure was all mine. Alastor, give the kid a break, she deserves a nice night out. Not tonight, but eventually.” Alastor had raised a brow and inspected your outfit, nodding in approval to the other man’s words.

”I see. That will be all Husker, you may leave.” Alastor waved him off, telling him to leave rather than suggesting it. Husk made eye contact with you and you shrugged. Alastor was picking under his nails with the same hands claws, seeming bored. Husk rolled his eyes and gave you a salute as he walked down the hall to one of the lower rooms for residents.

“Well my dear, I am afraid that you simply keep making mistakes, what a shame.” You groaned at his tone, closing your eyes to maintain composure.

“What do you mean, Alastor? Agreeing to be Angel’s ‘double?’” You finger quoted at the last word, making an obnoxious face to lay it on thick. “I know. Never again, I don’t know why I listened to him in the first place.”

”Well yes, that too I suppose. But I meant having Husker show you how to dance! Why I’ll have you know I was quite the dancer back in my day,” He pointed his microphone at the Radio in the Foyer and it started to play an upbeat, jazzy melody. He conjured his microphone away and grabbed your hand, leading you into a fast paced dance. You didn’t know what on earth was happening, but Alastor was an excellent lead. You found yourself laughing as he spun you about, trying to keep up with him - he wasn’t kidding, he was fantastic at this! He held on to both of your hands, which was great because you were so focused on his feet and trying to copy them, by the time the 3rd song started you were a bit more confident in your footwork but you were already out of breath. Holy crow dancing must have been a requirement in the 20s and 30s because Alastor barely looked as if he shed a drop of sweat yet. When you finally met his eyes, his smile wide as always, he let go of one of your hands to put you into a spin and bring you back.

The song ended, and he brought the two of you to a closer, slower dance, the song slowing. You found it hard to meet his face, but he thankfully broke the silence first. “How was that?! Quite the dancer, aren’t I?” He smiled at what looked like it could have been…real? Realer than most of his smiles. “Yes! I am impressed! Quite the dancer indeed. What was that dance? What did I do very terribly there for the last 15 minutes?”

He laughed at your joke, “That was the Fox-Trot dear, and something called the Black Bottom, though I mix it up a bit to keep it interesting.” He let you go entirely and the music faded into the background. You took a moment to catch your breath and race through the events that just happened. Date = bad. Husk = adorable. Alastor…Considerate? This was the most physical contact the two of you had with one another, and it certainly made you think. Just earlier today you assumed that your connection with this demon was only because of the bond, but here the two of you were, simply dancing like idiots in a Hell Hotel foyer, Alastor now rambling off about the songs he played and the meanings. You politely followed along without really listening, hyper focused on what you were feeling.

He just showed you he could be gentle, and fun. Patient when you stepped on his feet, and considerate as he gave you the instructions on what step to take next. Now he was looking at you and talking to you - honestly. Why was he constantly putting you in a state of confusion? 20 minutes with Alastor was proving to be leagues better than the hour plus date you went on tonight. Obviously your revelation gave you a certain look, because Alastor had interrupted your thoughts with a question. “And what, may I ask, are you in such deep thought about?” Raised brow, microphone back in his hand as he used it to lean on with both hands.

You quirked a lip, trying to figure out the right words to use. “I’m thinking about how 20 minutes with you had been a great end to my date since the first 2 hours were garbage. I am also thinking about how this is one of the first times we’ve spent time together that didn’t end up getting…a little heated.” He made a small noise of understanding before the two of you fell into a silence.

Ah yes, you were a mood killer. Grand. You kicked at the absolute nothing on the rug and announced you were heading to bed. You thanked him for the dancing, did a curtsy in response to his polite bow, and headed up the stairs.

Shoes and dress off, shower done and makeup removed, you were resting on the bed in your pyjamas, a button up short sleeved silk set with shorts. They were in a deep burgundy colour that flattered your colouring. The entire shower was spent thinking about your time with Alastor downstairs and how he obviously had no freaking clue what was going on, just like you had no idea what was happening between the two of you. It was clear there was more than just a physical connection, judging by how you were over analysing everything you had ever said to the man, hoping you never really sounded like an idiot after that first couple of days. There was a small knock on your door and when you opened it, Alastor was there, though he was a couple steps away this time.

”Evening my dear, I hope you have had time to freshen up.” He said, dipping his head a bit. “May I…come in?” You stared at him, unsure of what you were to do.

“Do you…do you think that would be a good idea?” You asked, not entirely against it but also confused by the fact he would even want to come in. “Well,” he started, picking off some non-existent lint from his microphone in an attempt to look nonplussed, “that depends on what sort of night you want to have, my dear.” Oooh trouble. That voice meant trouble. The kind of trouble that went straight to your crotch and lit your body on fire. Alastor’s facial response to your physical change was a toothy grin and a ‘mmhmm’ reverberating from his mouth. Embarrassed, but curious, you walked backwards back to the bed, sitting on the edge as Alastor came in smoothly and shut the door. He took a moment to look around the room you had attempted to make your own, inspecting every little addition, every detail. Finally he cleared his throat and spoke.

”I find you infuriating.”

“I…beg your pardon?” From the way your imagination was spinning all sorts of potential scenarios, this was not one of them. “Could you…elaborate?”

“I find you infuriating.” Okay, double infuriating. You waited. “Since you have arrived, I am unable to rid my thoughts of you. Your very presence has been invading my routines, my self expectations and responsibilities. I find myself skirting around more urgent matters just to catch a glance at you from a distance. You are making my mind and body betray the very way that I am! It is confusing, irritating and I am unsure if I would be willing to change that now that it has happened.”

You processed the words. Did he just imply he was glad all these things were happening? “Angel said that you went on a killing spree in the doomsday district, did you?” A slight tangent, but your curiosity was itching to find out. “Yes.” Was his curt reply. “Was that because…of me? Us? This-“ you guestured between the two of you, “-thing?” He came to stand between you, eyes lowered but not angry. He was quite unreadable at this moment. “Yes…and no.”

He bent over and grabbed one side of your collar to stroke the fabric between his thumb and 2 forefingers. “I went there because Hell needs a reminder that I am around, and I haven’t changed. But I also went-“ He popped the top button of your shirt open, “-because after our…moment, I felt a certain way, and I was concerned about how far I would deter from my pattern of behaviour if I stayed only across the hall from the source of all of these changes.” Button number two popped open and he lifted your chin to guide your eyes to his. “May I?” He asked, waiting for permission. You could only nod, your cheeks flaring up and you could feel this blush start to spread down your chest and shoulders. What the fuck was happening?

He unbuttoned the next 3 buttons that fastened your shirt together before putting his hand on your sternum and gently pushing you back so you were laying on the bed, looking up at him while your knees dangled off the edge of the bed. Your shirt covered a majority of your skin, but he took his claw and ran it up from your exposed navel to stop at your collar bone. The movement sent chills down your spine, but you laid still, hands beside your hips and formed into fists. He then ran his claw back down, and the resulting effect was a very small moan from your lips.

He brought his hand back up, his knuckle coming to rub the rib underneath your left breast, the movement causing the shirt to fall to the slide, exposing you. Your nipple started to peak slightly, but only for a second before Alastor bent down and took it straight into his mouth. Your shoulders jerked in response, and you could hear a tandem moan to your own. He was carefully toying with your left nipple with his teeth, while his left hand performed similar ministrations to your right nipple. Almost immediately you were over stimulated, pussy throbbing and clit pulsing. Alastor jerked his own hips as you smacked your head back against the mattress and fisted the blankets beside you.

He swapped his mouth to the other side, repeating the same actions, humming while he held them in mouth, causing you to groan. His knee came to rest on the bed, forcing your own knees apart. He was still fully clothed, and he brought his knee up until it rested against the heat of your cunt. He put pressure on it, and you groaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming. He was barely even touching you with his fingers and he had you soaking. Very quickly you felt the familiar build up at the bottom of your stomach, it was happening so fast it was nearly painful. The combination of his knee moving against your sensitive clit, the pinching and biting of your nipples mixed with the reflective arousal that you could feel from the bond with Alastor - who was just as tense with pleasure, had you slipping into despair chasing that release.

You raised your hands and brought them to his head, running your hands up behind his neck to run your fingers through his hair, only for him to grab both of your wrists and pin them beside your head on the bed. He was just slowly teasing one nipple at a time, puckering one up and blowing air on it, shifting his knee to change the pressure to your crotch, smiling wider as your moans escaped your lips. You tried to look down at him while he was overstimulating your body but it was too much for your brain to handle. How on earth had things come to this? You said his name in a shakily manner, stuttering over the first syllable and he hmmd a knowing response, picking up the pace of his ministrations, focusing his mouth on what the two of you discovered was the more sensitive one, knee pushing hard into you. Your hips were moving in a rhythmic motion to increase the friction, and your head was nodding back and forth as you allowed the buildup of pleasure to create a knot in the bottom of your stomach. Suddenly the knot tightened, and then snapped as your orgasm flooded through your body. Your moan of release was animalistic, unlike any sound that had come from you before, and your chest raised, having your head balance on your crown as your body arched to aid in release. A second after you started your release you felt Alastors body jerk in response, moving his hips to help with his own orgasm.

The two of you rode it out together, before he settled on his elbows on either side of you, allowing his body to rest on top of yours. His knees lowered to the floor at the foot of the bed, your own knees closed around his hips as the two of you caught your breath. It was suddenly stifling in your room, the smell of sex strongly pungent in the air. You stared at the ceiling, processing what was easily the strongest orgasm of your life as your mind raced.

Looking down at Alastor he was breathing deeply through his mouth, but his eyes were closed and furrowed. You tested his boundaries by letting your hands wander to his arms and let them rest on him. He didn’t move, and you didn’t push further by going farther, but the two of you laid there until your heartbeats settled. It was clear neither of you knew how to proceed, you were still confused about the turn of events and Alastor was confused how he allowed his basic instincts take over his better judgement.

He initially came to your door to…well for what, he didn’t even know. It certainly wasn’t thought out to pounce on you like a wild animal and bring you to a very intense orgasm that wracked through his own body and presumably ruined a perfectly good pair of trousers. This touch and go, push and pull bond between the two of you was making things difficult to process what he was actually thinking. Lately he was finding it harder and harder to avoid wanting to seek out these responses for you. His own lack of experience and overwhelming emotions that your presence had sparked in him has flipped his world, and he was unsure of how he would, or even if he could revert back into the cool, unaffected overlord demeanour that he had spent nearly a century perfecting. Where did he find those ritual runes again? Someone would have to pay for it, yes decades after the fact.

As you patiently waited, you fought a silent yawn, and found yourself slowly slipping into a comfortable state of pre-sleep. Alastor’s weight on top of you and your recent orgasm was a perfect concoction for restful sleep, and as your breathing slowed down and your lids became heavy, you slipped into slumber hoping that you weren’t coming across as rude (hey, he wasn’t saying anything either) but a part of you that was larger than you thought wished he would be there when you woke up.

Alastor however was grateful you were losing your battle within yourself and falling asleep, because it would make the next few steps much easier and far less awkward for him. He felt perhaps like a hormonal youth would, his lesser brain controlling the body devoid of any intellectual thought. As your breathing steadied into a rhythmic pattern he knew it was safe to move. He braced his head up off your chest and put his chin on his folded hands, propped up by his elbows that still rested on either side of you. He looked down at your peaceful face, content and already with a look of someone in deep sleep. Your face still had a residual flush on it, and your lashes twitched as his own breath hit your face after a long release of air he had been holding in.

Honestly if he was to be linked with someone in such a way, he considered himself lucky it was with someone like you. You were polite, very intelligent about the things you loved, held great conversation and, most importantly, you generally listened to what he had to say. And not that he put much merit into it being in hell, but you were also very pleasant to look at. Beauty fades on earth, but Hell was ageless. Though your demon form had been clearly influenced by his own, he was unsure of what other form you might take had this not happened. Still prey, he noted strongly, perhaps a rabbit or a dog - you were entirely too energetic and loyal. A thought he would focus on another day however, right now his task at hand was to escape without disturbing anyone or anything and clean himself up.

As he rose your body shifted immediately seeking out warmth. He used his tendrils to assist in moving you under the covers, fixing your shirt before using his own hands to tuck you in. He did not have a good answer to why he chose to do that himself, but as he left, the warm light dimmed as his shadows took him into his own room to address his mental anguish alone. He needed to sort out this thing that was starting to build up inside of him, and quickly. This extermination was suddenly far more complicated then the ones that preceded it.

Time was running out, and everyone knew it.

______

I know Alastor is an only child in canon, but he is so scripted as a man with sisters and therefore I live in de-lulu and write it as such.

Sorry for the delay, I’m trying my very best to make sexual moments not awkward and believable. And the idea that real people read it gives me anxiety.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @otherthoughtsofbu @phamtasic @midorichoco @hazbin-h0etel @white-00-7 @little-slyvixen @zzzykiek @iheartalastor

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x ofc #alastorxreader #alastor x you #soulmates trope #hazbin #alastorxyou

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