#just slowly dying from university
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Me when someone asks about my fictional crush:
I saw the template and it's literally me 😂
#shane#sdv shane#stardew valley#stardew shane#stardew valley shane#shane stardew valley#sdv#shane sdv#stardew#stardew valley meme#my memes#also hi im not dead#just slowly dying from university
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─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.
✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.
✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️
At first, you didn't quit the team.
After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving.
But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.
Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far.
Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in.
You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not.
It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months.
A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing.
"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you.
"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.
"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday.
"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said.
"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.
"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him.
"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually.
"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Miguel on the other hand was depressed.
He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.
He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best.
He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage.
"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance.
"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears.
"Well, you gotta try, Boss."
"Sunflower used to call me that."
"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten."
"Lyla, that's enough-"
"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much."
"I don't-"
"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office.
"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you.
"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly.
Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.
"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her."
"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything.
But eventually, it all started to feel okay.
Things were finally starting to look good for you.
You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest.
You were moving on.
Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something.
You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace.
Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.
When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch.
"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice.
"I was here t-"
"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it.
"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed.
"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen.
"Just listen to me for a second."
"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself.
He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely."
"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better.
"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.
"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.
"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do.
"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I'm in love with you." What?
"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay." You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.
"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue.
"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth?
"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered.
When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.
"Can you… say something? Please?"
"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him.
"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline.
You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that.
Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him.
"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there.
"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance.
"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks.
He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever.
"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him.
"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.
Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.
Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.
"Could you, not tel-"
"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day.
The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back.
"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly.
"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much."
"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently.
"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically.
"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned.
"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family.
Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now.
"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise.
"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that."
"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?"
"I have my ways."
"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"
"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret.
"I have my ways." Jess winked.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again.
Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new.
You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence.
He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed.
He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers.
You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back.
So, you finally decided to tell him.
You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company.
"Hey, Miguel."
"Hm?"
"I forgive you."
He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically.
"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly.
"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.
"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance."
"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently.
"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you.
"I want you to go out on a date with me."
His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date.
"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you.
"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening.
"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled.
"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling.
He couldn't wait for tomorrow.
#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#spiderman x reader#spiderman#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#oscar isaac x reader#oscar isaac#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara angst
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DAMNATION
A legend foretold that the princess' heart is the only way to save his people. What happens when he refuses to take her heart when he had foolishly fell in love with her? But, what if she wanted to give his people the life that they deserved?
Warnings: Angst, No Comfort, Death of Character, Blood and Gore, you might let out a tear or two, there could be an alternate ending in a parallel universe. Slight Spoiler for Rafayel's lore.
"Rafayel, please, please, please let me help your people." She sniffled, eyes and nose a hue of red as she held onto the sleeves of the God of the Sea. They had been at this argument for days, and time is not exactly in Rafayel's favour. His people are dying, and her heart, is the only thing that could save his kind from extinction.
It has to be out of her own will, they said. And here he is, watching y/n with his eyes that had taken up a shade of dark purple. The lack of lighting within her chambers had given him a good camouflage for his frown. He got her, to surrender her heart by her own will. But, Rafayel could not do it.
His right hand reached up to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks and he spoke softly, as if to conjure up whatever willpower he had left within his system to convince her to stop talking about this. "My love, you know I could not bear to lose you. I know my people may be in pain and suffrage, but I also know that you deserve the world. With me."
"BUT I ALREADY SAID I CAN!" Y/n shouted, the grabbed the candle holder by her bedside table and threw it across the room, her tears are now flowing like streams down her cheeks. Rafayel held her as she collapsed into his arms, sobbing and curling into a ball. Her voice a hushed whisper as she spoke. "How is living here any better than being dead? I am constantly locked in my tower, I had only ever been out whenever you are around and I just can't find myself to live like this anymore."
Her sigh ached Rafayel's heart, it hurts him deeply to watch her cry and to watch her make such a decision for him, for his people. He was caught up in between, eyes wandering across her dark room as the last source of lighting was put out. The moonlight however, casted a silvery-bluish sheen into the room, making the overall room more gloomy than it already is.
Rafayel took in a deep breath, muttering something about 'there must be another way to this', and he used his long index finger to lift up her chin, so her eyes meet his. "My love, I want you to stay put right here. I will be back by dawn tomorrow and we shall make a final decision on this. Please, heed my advice and just stay here alright? I will be back for you, as always my quintessence."
He placed a kiss on her forehead, her cheek and lastly on her lips. Just like how he would always comfort her. Pulling back, he noticed the way her eyes struggled to open and with that, he slowly laid her back onto her bed, and tucked her in. She must be exhausted from the amount of crying she had for the night. Smoothing his hand over her silky brown hair, he presented a sad smile, eyes wavering while he looked at her for one last time for the night.
He had to make a choice, either it would be to sacrifice her or to sacrifice his people. Both bringing an equally heavy burden to his heart and soul. Call him a god, they said. But he is no longer one as he harbored such selfish thoughts to his own desire. Putting on his mask, he got off of the bed, stood at the window and then plunge down into the waters below.
...
It has been a few hours, and y/n rose from her bed, still groggy from her sleep. She looked out of her window to find her windows were widely opened, the moon shining brightly and she wondered to herself when did Rafayel left. It should be a couple of hours ago as the last thing she recalled was his lips on her face. And she recalled meeting him right after dinner time ended.
A whistling tune was heard from outside of her window, a tune so melodic that she was enchanted to approach her window sill. Her hands glided over the smooth stone slab and she peeked her head out before she was met with a boy in the waters below her towers. The scales on his body signified that he is a Lemurian, just like Rafayel.
"What are you doing here?" Y/n panicked, eyes darting all over her surroundings to scan for any witnesses around. You see, if Lemurians were caught, they would be pawned off to the wealthy, as it showcases the sign of one's wealth. And that was how Rafayel met y/n. But y/n knew that possessing a Lemurian would not grant her a new status nor the freedom she had longed for, hence, she freed him after they had promised to find each other again in the future.
"My name is Arvia---" Before he could even finish, he coughed, desperately holding onto his chest as he heaved for his breath. "I came to---" Another cough, one of his hand sprung out from the water to close his mouth, to silence his coughs as he did not want to draw any unwanted attention. As he withdrew his hand, y/n gasped. Crimson stain on his pale white hands, people on land may have identify it as lung infection, but she knew that Lemurians are leaning towards the grim reaper's will.
"Please, please my quintessence, I know My Highness would not let us near you." Blood trickled down the sides of his lips as he spoke. "But I plead you, as my mother has been in suffrage for the past few days, she could not speak anymore, let alone sing. All of my siblings are met with ill coughs, just like mine, carrying crimson taints. I beg of you, shall you have the means to save Lemuria, please meet us at the sea stacks as dawn strikes."
Another cough comes at the end of his sentence and she watched as he harshly pounded his chest, as if doing that would ease his cough better. "I'll be there!" Y/n responded without hesitation and her determined eyes were met with Arvia's aquamarine ones. The young merman wiped the blood off of his lips and he nodded his head before he dived back into the water, a hint of his tail peeking out as he swam back into the deep waters.
Y/n rushed back into her room and opened her wooden wardrobe, eyeing the gowns that she owns and picking one out that is made of the thinnest material possible. She wanted her movements to be stealthy and languid, hence the thin material would come to be more useful than a heavier drape. She changed into the white gown, and grabbed her fur coat to drape it over her small stature. Glancing at herself for the last time in the mirror situated next to her wardrobe, she felt a pang of sadness coarsing through her body.
She has chosen her own journey, she has decided on her own death. But it was all for the better right? One small sacrifice for the greater good. Staring at her own reflection, she realised her tears had streamed down her face. Why is she crying? She had no idea. But perhaps it has something to do with the ending of her life. No matter how convinced she is of her death being a greater sacrifice, she could never forgive herself for going against her lover's will.
She wiped off her tears and huffed. "This is it. My death shall come with a greater meaning. Rafayel would understand eventually." Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the rope Rafayel had made for her and she tossed it out of the window to climb down from her tower.
...
Perhaps the gown was not the best idea. Strong winds and thin gowns are not exactly complimentary to one another. Her fur coat however, ended mid waist so the length below her waist was bare to the wind's torture. It took her quite a while to arrive to the location that was appointed by the merman.
The huge rock sat in the middle of the sea, unwavering as the waves crashed against it. The sky was dark but along the silhouttes, there was hints of an orangy-yellow shade, a sign that dawn is approaching. Y/n took off her footwear and laid them onto the sand, and she took off her coat to lay it next to her footwear. The wind batted against her whole body even more harshly, making her shiver and tremble as she made her way into the waters.
As the sun started to rise even more, she noticed a few heads emerged from the further ends of the vast ocean, as if watching her as she made her way towards the rock. Arvia then bobbed his head out of the waters and he spoke. "You came, my quintessence. Come, take your seat on the rock." He looked ghastly, eyes sunken in and scales fading of its usual bright colours. He held out his hand and guided y/n up towards the rock.
Another merman surfaced from the depths of the ocean and y/n recognised this merman. He was always stuck to Rafayel's hip when she met Rafayel for the first couple of times. She never got to know of his name but she assumed that he plays an important role in guiding and supervising Rafayel's actions. "I believe we had met for a few times, when I was on land with My Highness. My name is Amund and I was summoned by my people to perform the sacrificial ritual on you."
His eyes glinted a sheen of red as he spoke to her. Was this the guy that Rafayel had warned her about? 'My people are of gentle nature, but I am afraid one shall lead them all towards perdition.' Rafayel's voice rung in her head. "Do you, my quintessence, know the risk of such sacrificial ritual?" Amund questioned her, eyes raking over her body in an uncomfortable manner.
"I will be able to save Lemuria right?" She responded, eyes filled with hope. "Will I?" She second guessed herself and Amund said nothing but nodded. He raised his hand to beckon to his fellow Lemurians and some of them started approaching her. "Wait, what is happening?"
"As long as my quintessence is at will to give us the God of Sea's heart, we will ensure that the sacrificial ritual is done with the utmost care and respect you deserve." A dagger appeared in Amund's hand. Silver dagger with red crystals adorning it's hilt, it definitely does look like a ceremonial dagger.
"Are you going to drown me first? Rafayel told me that as long as I am willing to give out my heart, then I could be drowned prior to the ceremony. Is it not?" She remembered Rafayel told her some details about how the ceremony takes place but given she was not drowned yet, she was curious if there was a different course of ceremonial action.
"My quintessence, as I mentioned earlier, you deserve the utmost care and respect for your sacrifice for the people of Lemuria." He held up the dagger and gave a look towards the other mermans that were surrounding her. "Make sure she stays still throughout the ceremony." The mermans then grabbed her arms and legs and they stretched her limply across the rock. Y/n however, knew that she could not back up anymore at this point.
But, what she did not know was that this so-called ceremony was nothing more than a mere revenge to be taken upon Rafayel. The god who chose to leave his people to pursue his love with a mere mundane. Amund, does not approve of this relationship and neither does he want that to ever happen again. He wants to watch Rafayel suffer like how his people did.
"Stay still my quintessence, this would hurt." Without another word, Amund stabbed the dagger into her collarbone and y/n screamed in pain, tears started flowing from her face but she could not move as she was held down tightly. The pain did not stopped as the dagger dragged from her collarbone to the sides of her breasts. Her screams never falter just like her blood that never stopped flowing, staining the rock and eventually dripped into the ocean.
...
Rafayel had returned to her chambers but she was nowhere to be found. "Y/N? Y/N?" He called out to her name quietly as he walked towards her bed. Flipping the sheets, he was only met with the sight of her pillow stacked together to form a silhouette of her. He turned around and noticed the wardrobe that was sprung open, and her satin lounging attire tousled into a ball on the hardwood floorings. Confused, he looked over to the window sill and his guesses were right, she had escaped from her tower.
Without hesitation, the God of the Sea jumped out of the window and plunged right into the waters, not even caring if that had caused a huge splash to alert the guards as he had no time left to spare. He had to rescue her.
Earlier on, when Rafayel had left her chambers, he went back to Lemuria to speak with Amund. When he arrived at Armund's door, Arvia came out of the house, eyes widened when he was face-to-face with the lilac-haired God. "Your highness." Arvia half bowed and went along his way. Swimming past Rafayel and off into the weeds that were littered around the towns of Lemuria.
"What was Arvia doing here?" Rafayel asked as he closed the door to Amund's abode and finally meeting Amund's eye.
"His family was in dire need of some pearl essence. His mother's throat was ruined and his siblings are all ridden with coughs that drains their blood." Amund responded as he placed vials and bottles of medicine back onto the shelves. The clinking and clanking of the vials and bottles are the only sounds filling the silence before he continued. "Your Highness, you cannot delay any further. Our people are dying. And they desperately need the heart."
"Amund, listen." Rafayel spoke in a stern tone, hands running through his lilac strands as he looked frustrated. "I can't bring myself to do it. I just can't."
The vial containing the pearl essence floated out of Amund's grasp and he looked at Rafayel with widened eyes. There comes the shouting, "You would rather watch Lemuria wilt just to save a woman that you have feelings for?! How dare you say that?! What do you think the people of Lemuria would have thought, that their one and only hope has decided to betray them all for the sake of a mere mortal?!"
Rafayel winced at Amund's booming voice, although he looked saddened with the situation at hand, his voice maintained the same as his posture, still and calm. "There shall be another way to change fate. I will do whatever I can to save my people but without the cost of losing my beloved bride. The decision is final." He turned to leave but stopped, whipped his head back and he warned. "Anyone who acted against my orders shall die upon my hand."
...
The waves batted against the shores, feigning a scene where the water desperately wants to come onto the shore. Just like how the mermans once dreamed of wanting to walk on land and having to dive back into the waters based on their own will. But they were bound, bound to the waters as coming onto land would not impose any leverage for them.
Rafayel ran across the beach, eyes searching every inch of land and water to find his beloved. The sun is rising and the pastel skies no longer gave Rafayel a sense of comfort but it added onto his paranoia, assumptions of the worst case scenario constantly teasing their way into his mind.
His heart suddenly hurt like someone had shot him with a canon ball and he fell in his steps, clutching onto his chest as he struggled to breathe. Not long after when he regained his breath, something felt different in him. Something felt like a--- a beating heart. Rafayel gasped at the feeling as it further confirmed his nightmare.
He ran as fast as his mundane legs could carry him down the shore and passing a cliff, he witnessed a figure, sprawled out on a rock limply, and he screamed. "Y/N!"
He trudged the waters and climbed up the rock, not even caring that the barnacles had sliced off pieces of his sole. He did not care at all as the scene in front of him would trigger bloodshed afterwards. Y/n laid on the rock, eyes closed, but blood trailed from her eyes, nostrils, and ears, staining her once beautiful white dress into a bright crimson red. Her chest bared a gaping hole exactly where the heart was supposed to be situated.
Rafayel reached out his shaky hands to touch her cheeks and in that moment, he got a brief flashback of her last moments. Her screams echoed through his mind, but none of her screams mouthed the word 'STOP'. Amund was there, alongside with a couple of other mermans that were holding her down. Amund was slicing into her skin, carelessly opening up a big hole on the left side of her chest just to retrieve the heart from her.
Rafayel's tears streamed when the flashback showed y/n stopped screaming and twitching when Amund grabbed the heart out of her body, holding it high up in the air as if it was some trophy earned. And just like that, the flashback ended and Rafayel was snapped back into reality, with her body laid right in his arms. He whimpered, but no sounds were emitted from his throat, his cries were silenced by the throbbing pain within his heart.
Watching her pale and faceless expression, Rafayel held her face close to his neck, getting his body stained with her blood like how he would always get paint stained on his clothes whenever he was painting portraits of her. But this time, he did not want the stain to be washed off. He did not want it to fade either, as it would remind him of the pain his own people had brought upon him.
"Why?" He asked the air, as you would no longer be the one to reply to him. "Why would they do this to you?" His voice a hushed whisper as the ocean started to rage. "Why couldn't they at least make it painless for you?" He was referring to the drowning that should have taken place prior to the ceremony of removing her heart. It would have hurt way lesser than this, it would have been more comforting, it would have lessen the bloodshed that would be committed by Rafayel.
"I will always, always wait for you my love. No matter how long it takes." He stood up, with her still in his arms, and he looked out into the horizon, staring into the waves that would soon remind his people of his identity of being the God of the Sea. The dark clouds started to close in, accompanied with lightning strikes that fears the men at seas. Rafayel held her lifeless body, clinging onto whatever warmth that was left from her body before he mustered up the courage to say this. His eyes turned from the usual blueish-purplish shade to a dark set of purple pupils. "I shall bring damnation to my people as how they had brought damnation to me."
Sequel here: Retribution
Parallel Universe Ending is up! Read through Retribution and you shall find the link for the parallel not-so-angsty ending!
And there you go my darlings, I wanna watch that tear drop :)
I think I will come out with an alternate not-so-angsty ending if i feel like it sometime in the near future. Lemme know what you guys think hehe <3. If any of you fancy for any requests of similar calliber or even new ideas, drop me a dm :>
#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel angst#rafayel lnds
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YOUR RE-SET
So your life isn’t looking and feeling how you envisioned. You see the TikTok and IG girlies living that life. You dream about luxury travel, pilates on a Saturday morning, drinking overpriced green smoothies, driving a sexy car, and living your fullest most authentic life…But in comparison, you’ve grown to mostly hate spending time with your friends, you’ve out grown them and notice how much they complain about life and generally are low vibes, you’ve spent all of this months wages already, and still have 2 weeks left until payday so your bank balance is no way supporting the life you dream of, to add, your dating life is a mess not consisting of your dream guy that provides for you. No, instead it seems too much effort for him to message back, let alone take you to that sexy spa you’re dying to visit. So in short your life is a far cry from what you want. The life you’ve created right now is absolutely not what you would want for yourself for the next year, or even five years. So in order to completely shift from where you are to where you want to be. You need a fucking RE-SET.
The re-set is basically your metamorphosis. Think of being the caterpillar, heavy, slow sluggish (currently you right now). In order to become a beautiful butterfly you need to completely transform, undo, take time to reorganise so you can re-emerge as nature intended.
The Re-set might look slightly different for everyone so take what you need from this:
2-3 months stepping back from the people around you.
THE CORE ESSENTIALS FOR YOUR RESET - A DAILY PRACTISE
Meditating daily to clear you mind so you can hear yourself, your own voice and drown out any external noise. (I recommend insight timer app, or mind app both for meditations)
A journal, to document your feelings and emotions, empty your thoughts, and a space where you can become your own best friend and create a connection with yourself.
Movement. - you need to move your body this is KEY, you might pick up running, stretching at home, pilates, yoga, HIT, whatever it is just fucking do it. Your body needs the movement to replenish its energy and move you out of stagnation.
Healthy diet. Less alcohol more greens. If it’s processed, if its fizzy, if its sugar, if its cake, if its chocolate, if its ice cream (you get the picture), cut that shit OUT. You need food that supports you, cleanses you, energises you in order to thrive and clear your energy.
FAITH in something bigger than yourself. If you’re religious, great lean into your faith with prayer, scripture, faith music. If you’re not religious maybe you believe in the universe, the love all around you, faith in something unknown, something guiding you, protecting you, even if you believe this is part of your own psyche - lean into this. Your faith is your support system. Your faith is the unseen that will guide and protect you on this journey.
The above might seem overwhelming, and it will be if you don’t already incorporate those things into your day already. The worst thing you want to do is try and do everything at once and feel disappointed when you don’t succeed. So start with one thing if that’s all you can manage and focus on doing that one thing consistently and then add from that.
The purpose of the first 2-3 months is the cleansing. You want to start slowly removing what doesn’t serve you, and start creating space for yourself, your thoughts and visions so you have space to start planting new seeds of the life you want to live.
What your first steps in your journey might look like:
Saying no to going out for drinks with friends, instead you go for a long walks in nature listening to an empowering podcast, go home journal and meditate.
Weekends might look like not seeing friends, maybe even family. Doing exercise, making healthy food, researching recipes, creating a vision board on Pinterest and doing a guiding meditation, affirmations and mirror work.
Having a prayer practise, reading books/ passages that support you in your journey
Deleting your social medias or even doing a detox day / weekend so you have a break
PART 2 - COMING NEXT….(Here)
#levelup#lawofattraction#levelupjourney#manifestyourreality#levelup confidence lawofattraction powerofthemind#growthmindset#manifest#manifestingmindset#manifesting
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Here is how to slowly, completely, and irrevocably fall into having someone know your soul as well as you do theirs:
First, be enemies, but of circumstance. Neither of you were really on opposite sides so much as connected to them. You think he loved them, though, that side that was only your enemy by virtue of not being your ally. He loved them, even if he didn't spend as much time with them. You mock him for this. For calling their leader 'king'. (Later, you'll hold onto mockery like it's all you have. You know it's not a game and you know he was really king, but without your ability to make fun of what's happening, you won't be much at all.)
You have a best friend then. This, too, is almost an accident, although to explain all the ways it's also on purpose will take longer than you have to explain. He's wonderful, and loyal, and going to die. So you die fast and young first, before him. You die in front of your friend. You die in front of him.
You don't regret it, the dying young, because it means you die before anyone else can die for you.
Second, watch your best friend fall in love with him, although that phrase feels both too pedestrian and too much like it's overstating the thing that really happens. You have your own drama for too long to really understand how it happens, of course. You're too busy facing a betrayal that will scrape the inside of your soul forever. (To tell the truth, you've already forgiven him for it, but there's something easy about being each other's enemies, so you keep going, orbiting around each other in betrayal betrayal betrayal. But that's someone else who knows your soul, another story.)
Then your best friend dies, as does nearly everyone else. You sit around a campfire with him. You tell him that your best friend trusts him; you'll trust him too. He stands by your side near the end, the two of you running together, another man's memories on your lips.
You're not sure what you regret, then, but you know there's something that won't undo that's a part of you now.
Third, learn the value of choices, as the universe tries its best to take yours from you. In this one, the people you're by the side of is at once familiar and strange. The finalists who'd protected you last time are now an ugly mix of your chosen soulmate and your enemy by making that choice; you attempt to hold on to your ability to choose even as blood makes it clear you can't. (The universe tried to pick someone who would fit you well, you realize later. More people who know your soul that this story isn't actually about. You care for him too, is the thing; you care for choosing more.)
You don't see him much, this time. You respect each other, though. It's hard not to respect each other after everything that's happened. Still, you don't see him, and he doesn't see you. Instead, you see the end of the game. You nearly hold it in your fingers.
You regret. You regret deeply. You are so tired of watching people die, you think, and you regret more than anything else that you couldn't stop it.
Fourth, become enemies, but this time intentionally. Enemies, maybe, is a strong word; you're assigned co-parents, except bad, divorced ones. There's something hysterical about the whole thing, in both the comedic sense of the word and in the original, more concerning sense, especially given the way you all have thought about your best friend-now-son in the past. (Family ties are a thing you'll come to value; it's just that what the names are don't count, really, not when you do this again and again and again. Plus, it's nice to be able to have an excuse to yell.)
It's almost fun again. Maybe it's almost fun. You trade barbs with each other, and try to kill each other, and this time the consequences are light enough that you try to help each other, too. You see each other a lot. You're enemies, of course, but you see each other a lot, as you are: scared, and tired, and not as frightening as you appear, and happy, despite it all.
You don't regret much. You die fast and young, alongside your allies. You see his face before you do though, and you think he's the one with regrets.
Fifth, trip over him as you run across the first session of a new game. You don't know yet what this one will be, if it will be betrayals, or more stolen choices, or family, or fun, or anything else, but you look him in the eyes and make a choice. You will be friends this time instead of enemies. And it's nice. He and you fit together oddly now, but well, despite the oddities. You've had time to learn to, from a distance, and then closer and closer. (People seem baffled you're friends now. You wish you could explain that that's how these stories go sometimes.)
You're pretty certain he'll leave you when the time comes. He says he's a runner, and not a protector, and yet, when the time comes to betray you, you both know he won't hurt you, and you're both surprised anyway.
"You might regret this," you tell him quietly. You both have scars.
"You might regret this," he agrees. But you also both have choices.
"Okay," you say. "Have you ever fallen in love?"
"Cleo," he says, brushing your hair aside, and he doesn't answer.
"I don't think I have," you say honestly. "I think it's something else. Have you ever accidentally given someone a piece of your soul?"
"All the time," he says, and that's that.
The end is coming soon. You'll find out if you regret it.
#secret life smp#secret life spoilers#zombiecleo#ethoslab#a bee fic#trafficshipping#<- YEAH OKAY THIS IS A LITTLE MORE BLATANT THAN I NORMALLY AM.#you can read this platonically if you WANT but. it's. yeah it needs the tag.#anyway etho and cleo are soulmates but they're soulmates who very slowly and almost accidentally slid into being it#who built their way up to soulmates over time#do you understand me.#...also it DOES strike me the irony of tagging shipping on the fic where the lead SPECIFICALLY SAYS she hasn't fallen in love but#YOU KNOW. ITS THE VIBES.
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HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words
a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.
It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.
"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.
You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.
Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.
"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."
"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.
"You can't do what?"
"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.
"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."
"Of course you do..."
"What is the source of your pain?"
"My head hurts. So fucking bad."
"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.
"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."
"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."
"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."
"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"
"Kindness would be a good look on you."
"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.
"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."
"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"
"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."
"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."
"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."
It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.
"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."
"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."
"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"
"Being nice doesn't hold any power."
"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"
"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."
"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"
"Oh, you're pushing your luck."
"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.
"And now you plan to ignore me?"
With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.
Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.
"What now?"
"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"
"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."
"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."
Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.
"What on earth are you doin-"
"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."
And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.
"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.
"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.
"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."
"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.
"Remember my advice?"
"Yup."
You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.
His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.
"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"
"Huh?"
"Your head, does it hurt?"
"No... You asked him for it?"
"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."
"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.
"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."
Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.
So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna imagines#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#itadori#itadori yuji#itadori fluff#itadori yuji fluff#itadori x you#itadori yuji x you#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#itadori imagines#itadori yuji imagines
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All Bark and No Bite 06
The moment so many have been waiting for...
Also! I will no longer be accepting new ppl for the taglist for this series! If you wish to be alerted when i drop a new chapter you may choose to be notified when i post! Thank you :)
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!)
Chapter Warnings: Crying, nsfw content, Smut, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, mating, biting, begging, blood play(?), blood in mouths, reader is in heat, super possesive! Chan, knotting, angst, anxiety, cursing, tension in the pack, yelling, drama, Lee know being a dick
WC: 4.1k
MDNI 18+
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please.
You were dying. You were sure of it. The fire you felt in your body was killing you. You didn’t even register it when Chan gently placed you on his bed, suddenly overcome with the pure scent of him.
“Alpha…It hurts.” your words coming out slurred.
He was by your side, one hand running through your hair, the other keeping a steady grip on the mattress- to keep himself grounded so as to not to do anything rash.
“M’ here Omega. It’s gonna be ok.” His pupils were dilated the biggest they have ever been.
“Hurts so much Alpha. Please please make it stop.” You were pleading -begging- him to make it better. There was one thing in particular you wanted. One word playing in your head on a loop.
Knot
Knot
Knot
Over and over again, it was making you delirious.
Your whole body was on fire. Boiling through your bloodstream and radiating out of your skin. So hot you couldn’t breathe, the flames engulfing your lungs. I guess that's why they call it a heat.
Chan had been excited to work you through your first heat together, he just thought he would have more time beforehand. No time like the present, though.
“I’ll help you, omega. Your alpha will always help his sweet omega.” He cooed at you, his body slowly moving over yours, caging you under his built frame.
The second he was settled over you, your arms shot up and forcefully pulled the back of his head down, capturing his lips against your own. Chan let out a grunt of surprise, not expecting this shy girl to be the one to take the lead. It’s not his style, but he would let you have it this one time. He would have plenty of time to train you later.
You lifted your hips, looking for that bit of friction- any bit you could get. At the brush of your hips against his own Chan let out an almost inhuman growl. If anyone else had heard him let out that sound they would have pissed their pants, it was so deep coming from a place inside of him he didn’t even know existed .
He let you grind into him while he savored the taste of your mouth. Your whimpers like music to his ears. When he had his fill of your mouth (tho really he never will) he sat up and hastily removed his shirt from his body then literally tearing into your tee shirt ripping the garment in half. He was more than eager to see all of his pretty omega. Your pants were next to go, seeing the same fate as your shirt and joining it on the ground.
“Alpha.” There was that begging tone again, “Knot. Need it.”
“Fuck baby. Ok ok Alphas gotcha” He shimmied out of his own bottoms, throwing his pants and boxers to the floor beneath.
To say Chan was good looking was an understatement. He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His whole body toned from his years of discipline, his muscles rippling as you rake your nails across his abs. His cocky smirk gave his face a boyish charm but his sharp teeth reminded you he was a predator.
And you were his prey.
“Oh pretty girl. You have no idea of the naughty things I want to do to you.” He licked his teeth.
“W-wan’ it Alpha. Wan’ it all from you.” Your words still slurring together in your plight. You would give him anything he wants. Your mind, body and soul - all of you, just MAKE IT STOP.
Chan couldn’t hold back any longer, your words causing his self control to snap. His hands gripped your body, fully allowing himself to grind against your sex drawing helpless moans from you.
Yes
Yes
YES
It felt so good, but it was not enough. You needed more.
The alpha gripped you by the face then placed his finger against your bottom lip before slowly inserting the digit into your open mouth. He pressed down on your tongue as he collected the saliva that was accumulating, then pulled it out of your mouth and brought it down to your pussy.
Chan used the finger to swipe through your wetness, the immediate sounds of your slick filling the air.
“Fuck Baby you’re so fucking wet. Who made you like this, Omega?” He asked rhetorically.
More tears escaped you, “A-alpha. Always you, my alpha.”
Chan inserted his long finger into you, a wet gasp escaping you at the intrusion. Now it was his turn to moan. You were just so tight. Fuck, how was his cock going to fit? He would make it fit.
“So good. Need more, Alpha. Need your knot.” Your eyes were pleading. Chans mouth left stray kisses down your chest, coming to your breasts where he took one of your nipples between his teeth, giving it a sharp tug. You felt a strike of pain at his actions, but it also felt so good- to be touched by him.
“Mmm are you sure Omega?” He teased between bites, alternating between the two mounds.
‘Perfect for feeding our children’ Chan could see it now, you with your breasts full of milk, leaking all over the place while you waddle around the house, his baby growing inside of you. The thought alone could make a grown man cry.
“Yes!” You humped into his harder in response.
“Ok baby. Alpha will give you what you want.”
Chan grabbed his cock in his hand and rubbed the tip through your slick, collecting some of the drippage, before slowly pushing into you.
The moan you let out was one of pure ecstasy. Never in your life had you had something so big inside of you before. If you thought you were seeing stars before, it was nothing compared to now. Your nails found purchase in his shoulder blades, the indents turning red at how hard you pressed into him.
“Nnnngggg '' Chan isn't faring any better. Since the moment he smelled you he had wanted to take you this way.
“N-n-need you, alpha.” You choked out through sobs of pleasure.
Chan buried his face into your neck, breathing heavy in your ear.
“Tell me you’ve never done this before, Omega. Tell me no other man has ever touched you like this. That no one else has taken you this way.” Chan needed you to say it, to feed his ego.
“Tell me I’m the only one. Then I will give you all of me.” He nipped at the skin on your neck, so close to your mating gland.
You answered without hesitation, “Only you, Alpha. Never anyone else. Only you.”
At your confession Chan growled, something absolutely primal escaping his body. The need to mark you as his feeding into his frenzy. He brought his hips back as far as he could, letting his tip just barely leave your hole, before thrusting into you harshly, his hips snapping into yours with vigor.
“Fuccckkkk, Alpha. Please, please, please” You didn’t know what you were begging for, just that you couldn’t stop. The sound of your slick filled the room, as well as the smell of your combined scents. The liquid was literally dripping out of you, coating both your thighs and Chans balls. There was no room to care, though. Not with the way he was fucking you so nicely. His cock fit perfectly inside, filling every inch as if he was made for you. He was.
His movements didn't slow at your whines, in fact they only increased. He was pounding into you like a rabid animal, letting you draw your pleasure from his body and in return feeding his primal urges.
“ Gonna claim you Omega. Gonna let everyone know who you belong too.” He looked into your eyes for any hint of an objection but found none. You were too far gone to respond but somehow managed to nod your head, baring your neck in submission, waiting for him to claim his prize.
At your submission Chans’ eyes glazed over and he opened his mouth to reveal those sharp canines. No more warning was given as he dove right for your neck, his teeth slotting over your mating gland and biting down. Hard.
The sensation was otherworldly. You thought it would hurt, preparing for the pain that never came. Instead all you felt was intoxicating love. You felt loved, and wanted, and cared for. Like everything Chan felt for you was pouring out of him and into you. Without warning you came around his length, fluids spraying out of you and coating Chan's abdomen.
The alpha released his hold on your neck after a few seconds, his tongue smoothing over the bloody mark left behind. His thrusts never faltered still, his driving into you gaining intensity as he neared his own release. Once your neck stopped dripping he pulled back from your neck, his lips covered in your blood. He pushed himself back on his haunches and hoisted your hips up further, his grip bruising your hips.
Chan was panting as he spoke “ I am never letting you go. I have ruined you for anyone else. This pack is all you need, all you’ll ever need. Soon you won’t be able to breathe without us, Omega.”
You had completely succumbed into a subspace, floating through nothing and everything all at once. You’re only thoughts consisting of him.
“Wanna bite…” You mumbled out. “Wanna claim my Alpha.” The words were escaping you without you even registering you said them.
Chans felt his knot start to inflate and he leaned down once more, “Do it. Claim me, Omega.”
In your daze your teeth found his neck and you bit down, his blood now filling your mouth.
As your teeth sunk into him, Chan came inside of you. His knot inflated fully now, keeping him from thrusting any further, holding him against you.
“Fuck, fuck fuck! Perfect little omega, love you so much.”
His cum filled every crevice inside of you, coating you completely and spilling out around his cock. It was pure warmth. You were sure you would never tire of this feeling.
When Chan had given you every last drop he tried to catch his breath, his lungs feeling like he ran 10 miles at full speed.
You were slowly coming out of that mind space, now needing the comfort only your alpha could offer. You brought your hands up to rest on his cheeks, and inched your face closer to his until your mouths met again. The blood both of you had on your mouths mixing together on your lips, the taste of iron taking over completely. It wasn’t an unwelcome taste, but something about it felt dirty. Dirtier than the act the both of you had partaken in mere seconds before.
Chan was the first one to pull back, you whining trying to keep his lips locked on yours.
“Enough of that, Omega. Gotta’ make sure you're ok.” He gently rolled your head to the side to take a peep at the bite left behind. He let out a low whistle, “fuck, got you pretty good. M’ sorry baby.” He peppered kisses all over your face as an apology.
“It’s ok alpha. Wanted you too.” Your clarity was returning to you slowly, your heat having been satiated for the time being. His thick knot kept you close to him. Suddenly all of your past actions were flooding your brain, the humility creeping on to you and you hid your face in his chest, a quiet sob emanating.
Chan gave a noise of shock and the sudden appearance of your tears. Though he shouldn’t be surprised. His sweet girl seemed like she was always crying. Still, he had to make sure you were ok.
“Aww baby, why the tears, huh?”
“M’ so so sorry, Alpha.” You sniffled, words muffled by his skin.
“Sorry for what my love?” He was genuinely confused.
You sniffed a few more times , trying to catch your breath before responding. “I’m sorry I acted that way… before with the other boys. I had no control over my own body, it just came on so suddenly. I know that’s no excuse but I really am so so sorry Chan. I would understand if you didn’t want me anymore. No one would want a sloppy Omega.”
Your words filled him with a fury, harshly gripping your cheeks and turning your eyes to meet his own.
“Did I say I didn’t want you, Omega?” You shook your head the best you could in his grip. “Then why would you think such a thing? I don’t blame you for what went down. I know you’re a sweet, shy little baby. And sweet girls would never behave that way on their own volition” Not yet anyways.
The alpha gave you a quick peck. “No one will blame you or be mad. Especially not me. So stop saying shit like that. Like I already said - I am never letting you go. You are my true mate, were made for me. You belong to me now. Right omega?” He used your head to nod up and down.
It was a possessive statement, and would have made any sane person want to run for the hills, but for some reason it just made you wet again.
“Yes Alpha.” You whispered in lust, the intensity starting to return, “I belong to you.”
--------------------------------------
The pack members took shelter at what they called the ‘safehouse’. It was a small apartment sized home at the very edge of the property. They used it when one of the alphas went into a rut or if one of the members just needed some space for some reason. The space wasn’t really suited for more than one, maybe two, people at most. But it was this or camping and at least this place had a small kitchen and bathroom.
There was tension amongst the guys. A lot of them replayed the events of the day in their own minds. It had been a few hours since the incident. In his shame, Jeongin locked himself in the bathroom refusing to come out no matter how much Hyunjin had begged. Hyunjin, Felix and Seungmin had been filled in by a teary eyed Jisung.
Jisung was in a daze. He had been sitting on the porch since they arrived, just gazing out into the trees that surrounded the estate. The crystal tears every once in a while cascading down his rounded cheeks. He felt like it was all his fault. You were with him when you went into heat. You were with him when Jeongin went for you. Fuck, it was him that took you straight for the young alpha. ‘I should have warned Jeongin. I should have called him and told him to get the fuck out of the house.’
The first thing Jeongin did when he got to the safehouse was lock himself in the bathroom and take the hottest shower possible, he needed to rid himself of your scent. Needed to scrub you off his skin, if he didn’t he was sure it would cause an early rut. That is the last thing he needed right now. The boy was filled with deep shame. ‘I can’t believe I acted like that’ he rested his head against the shower tile. ‘How will I ever face Chan again?’ He truly didn’t know what to do, so he will do the only thing he can do right now. Stand here under the cooling water, and wallow in his mortification.
Minho, on the other hand, was fuming. To him all of this ordeal was avoidable. Aren’t omegas supposed to be able to sense their heats coming? And how convenient it was that you happened to have said heat almost as soon as you got there. To their home. A home full of unmated men.
Chan had also filled him in the night prior, about Hongjoong and you being promised to him. Something about all these circumstances didn’t sit right with the beta. He didn't hate you, he knew deep inside that you had no ill will, he's pretty good at sensing that kind of thing in people. Minho just can’t help but be defensive over his pack. And is wary of things disrupting the peace within his pack. He isn’t an alpha, but Minho can be protective like one. He had tried to comfort Jeongin but the alpha had made it clear he didn’t want to be bothered at all. It was breaking Minho's heart.
Changbin was outside trying to exercise the stress away. He felt the best option for him was to sweat your smell off of him. Really, working out was his answer for everything. He was fairing well enough, though there was a little part of his brain itching with the knowledge there was a pretty omega in heat not too far away. Best to ignore that little bit of information.
The three remaining betas were at a loss for what to do. It seemed like everyone else was in their own little worlds, replaying what had happened over and over. Felix was trying to cook something up for the pack. His motto is food fixes everything so that's what he will do!
Hyunjin had eventually given up on his mission to comfort Jeongin, his pleading being in vain, so his next target was Jisung. Hyunjin skittered outside and crawled into Jisungs lap, bear hugging the younger man. The moment Jisung registered the warmth he broke into a sob- burying his face into Hyunjin. “Its ok Sungie. That must have been a lot for you to handle by yourself.” Jisung nodded, the hiccups beginning. “You did such a good job, you got her home safe. You know that means the world to Chan.” At the mention of their leader Jisung cried harder.
“It’s my fault, Hyun.” Hyunjin shook his head to disagree but Jisung continued “ I should have warned Innie. I could have called him or something.”
“Nobody blames you Sung. Not a single person in this pack would dare put you at fault for anything. You did right by your pack. Chan trusted you with her and you did what you had too. When we eventually go back home I know he will tell you the same thing.”
That seemed to perk up the younger beta, the tears coming to a slow stop. “Y-you think so, hyung?”
Hyunjin nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. It will be alright.” Jisung nodded along, hugging the older boy tighter.
Seungmin was sitting on the small sofa in the living room, observing Minho who sat a few feet away scrolling on his phone with a scowl upon his face. Seungmin wondered if now was a good time to ask just what Minhos' problem had been. It was obvious something had crawled up the elders ass but Seungmin wanted to know what. Yeah the events of today are mildly inconvenient, of course he would rather have his own bed versus an air mattress but it's really not a big deal. And Jeongin would get over it soon enough. So what was Minho's problem?
“So what’s your deal?”
“Huh?” Minho looked up from his phone with a confused expression.
“I mean, I know this kinda sucks and was a shitty situation but something has been up with you since yesterday sooooooo…” Seungmin gestured with his hands for Minho to explain himself.
The elder beta rolled his eyes, “Nothing is wrong Seungmin. It’s been a stressful day, is all.”
“Yeah fucking right. What about yesterday? When you called Y/n a ‘situation’?” He used air quotes around ‘situation’ for emphasis.
‘Dammit, I should have worded it better then to avoid this shit.’ Minho thought bitterly.
“Well if you can’t fucking tell Seungmin, she has become quite the situation now, hasn’t she? Look at what happened to poor Jeongin! Not to mention Han and Changbin.” Minho had been trying to keep his voice down but couldn’t help the slight raise.
Seungmin scoffed, “They will all be fine. Those guys are more resilient than you think they are. It was a learning experience for everyone - next time will be different.”
“Maybe next time she can give us a fucking warning.” Minho mumbled, not intending for seungmin to hear. He did anyway.
“So you’re gonna blame her? She just met her true mate, not to mention all the stress she’s been in ya know , having to flee her fucking entire life. So yeah I imagine her hormones are all over the place.”
The elder beta stood in fury, “How are you just so ok with all of this?! How has none of what’s occurring bothered you?!”
“Why would our leader -our alpha-finding his mate bother me? Why would it bother me to know we now have the missing piece of our pack? I have no issues with her. Hell, I even like her. And I can say pretty confidently that the other guys like her too. So it seems the stick is only up your ass, Minho.” Seungmin stood too, he started this argument and he won’t back down.
It seems both guys forgot Felix was a few feet away, listening to the entire conversation with baited breath.
He had a bad feeling this would escalate if he didn’t get involved. The small beta appeared between the two with his hands up to diffuse the tension.
“That’s enough from you two!” Felix was trying not to tremble at his own assertiveness.
“Felix this doesn’t concern you.” Minho tried to shoo him away.
“My pack mates are fighting, of course it concerns me.” Felix turned to Seungmin now “Why don’t you take a walk, please. Go clear your head.” Felix gave him pleading eyes.
Seungmin looked like he wanted to refuse but only gave a sigh and a nod before calmly walking out the door, but making a show of letting it slam behind him.
Minho let out a breath when the younger boy had exited. Felix now had turned his attention to only Minho. “ Can we have a calm discussion about what exactly made you feel like this, min?”
Minho sighed, plopping back into his chair and putting his head in his hands.
“It’s not that easy, Lix. There’s so much going on in here I don’t even know where to begin.”
Felix being the sweet boy he is, came to sit on the armrest beside the older boy, and began to rub his back in comforting circles. “ You can tell me anything. I could tell since yesterday you haven’t been yourself. I just wanna help you Min.”
At his words Minho unloaded all his thoughts and feelings onto Felix. Every doubt, every concern, all of it. Felix listened intently, letting Min get out everything that he has been holding on too.
“I see where you’re coming from. It’s a big sudden change for our pack. And it definitely comes with some challenges. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Felix was trying to help as much as he could. “I really think once we get past this hurdle, our pack will be more unified than ever!”
“Don’t take this the wrong way Felix, but I feel like you're only saying that because you want a turn with her next.” Minho griped.
Felix looked hurt for a second but didn’t let it faze him much. “Hyung, if you got to know her I think you’d change your tune. I got to spend some real time with her yesterday and from what I've seen she is actually really great. I’m not going to sit here and lie and say there’s not an urge for me to sleep with her because there is, but if she wasn’t an omega I know I would feel the same way about her.” Felix leaned into Minho. “All I’m asking is that you give her a chance. Don’t let this one slip up ruin your relationship with her. If not for me then at least try for Chan. He’s a good leader to us and he deserves your effort.”
Minho knew Felix was right. He didn’t want to admit it but the younger beta spoke some sense into him. There was one thing still bothering him, though.
“What about if the Ateez pack comes for her?”
Felix didn’t seem worried, “If they come for our omega, they will see just how strong our pack is. They won’t lay a finger on our girl.”
“Chan would kill them first.” They spoke in unison, then looked at each other and burst into laughter.
A/N: Finallyyyyy getting into the dirty stuff!! Also I sincerely apologize for the angst :'), it gets better!! at some point.. Thank you for reading!
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
©doitforbangchan
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#stray kids#skz smut#abanb#stray kids x reader#skz#skz ot8#skz abo#abo#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#lee know x reader#lee know#changbin x reader#changbin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#han jisung#lee felix#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#seungmin#jeongin#jeongin x reader
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I'm normally a very slow reader of published novels, but I devoured The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard and now I can NOT stop thinking about it.
Everyone who has read my Fire Lord Zuko content knows how much I love 1) people of power working tirelessly to make the world a better place for all; and b) kings, slowly being crushed under the weight of their crown and duty, finding love and care in their loyal servants and staff
Except this story is more. The Emperor is worshiped and treated as a god, bound by extreme taboos and protocols that he can't break. It's about his staff (his found family) looking BEYOND the exterior of godhood and finding the human being underneath - who is dying under the weight of being the Emperor - and deciding to reach out, even if by acknowledging his humanity they are technically breaking many laws.
God this book is about so many things, including:
Found family can be the Last Emperor and his senior members of staff
The Emperor learning how to be human again with the help of his friends
There's no romance in this book. The deep friendships are the beating heart of this story, and they very much Love each other.
Breaking down a previously corrupt imperial empire through hard work and radial reforms, leading to sweeping changes including UNIVERSAL INCOME
Embracing cultural heritage, even in the heart of the imperial palace. Our main character is both one of the highest ranking members of government and from an islander culture, and he dedicates himself to both
The struggle for your family (who have a case of tall poppy syndrome, and live far far away from the capital and palace) to see you as a respected adult and understand all of your (many, MANY) achievements, even when you're very literally brought the Emperor home with you.
This book has some BEAUTIFUL confrontations, take-downs, and revelations based on the past two points (and more). If you underestimate or insult our main character, You Will Regret It. Watching him lose his temper is a glorious thing to behold.
Anyway I'm pretty sure this just became my all-time favourite book, because it's beautifully written and touches on all of my favourite tropes.
#the hands of the emperor#nine worlds#book recs#i'm currently halfway through the sequel#and my heart cannot take it i need to know what the fuck is going on between our main characters#the slow burn is killing me#so i'm distracting myself by yelling about the og novel on here#my posts
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— from eden
synopsis: eve found a snake in her garden, and then fell in love with the fruit it offered.
tags: god au, past lives, soul bonds, angst, smut
warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, oral (fem. receiving), corruption kink if u squint, character death
word count: 18.3k
m.list
a/n: if you've read this before, it's because i deleted my old account and then decided to come back. as a disclaimer, religion is pretty broad in this fic. "god" in this fic is not god from the christian/catholic religion. also !! thank u @yeonjunszn for betaing this last year, love u pookie!! <33 [photo creds]. MINORS DNI
❝all the fear and the fire of the end of the world, happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl.❞
When God created the universe, he first created light. He separated the light from darkness and called them “Day” and “Night”. Then He made the sky, separating the water with a dome to keep it in two separate places. Then he made the sun and the stars, weaving his essence to light up his beautiful creation to help guide those who will soon live on it. Then He created animals, for both the sky and the water. He blessed them and told them to live in the sea and the sky, to fill the ocean and the earth with bustling cycles of life.
On the last day, he created humans. He created man and woman, and told them to have children so they may produce their own descendants to walk over earth and bring everything into their control. The first two humans he created were Adam and Eve.
He provided them with an abundance of fruits and grains for them to eat in a beautiful garden he called Eden.
In the garden of Eden, they were to fall in love and create many children. Adam was the first one to fall in love with Eve, and she pliantly went along with it.
But, something in Eve felt… empty. Like Adam was not the one she was to be with. Adam was not the one she was to share this beautiful, vast, garden with. But, she wasn’t sure who she was to share this with. Eve knew she couldn’t delve much more into the unsettling pit in her stomach at the thought of her fate already sealed by Adam’s side, as it was not smart to defy God.
“God knows best,” she would tell herself as she lay with Adam in the garden of Eden.
________________
I’m dying.
If the blood flowing around him wasn’t enough of a tell, or the way his sight blurs in and out. The heavy rain pelting against his dying body is a desperate, yet pathetic, attempt of the universe trying to save him and wash the red sticky liquid away. His breathing is shallow, hitched. He feels the urge to cry, to mourn the life he’s no longer going to be able to have. He was so close to reaching his goals too, and now they’re all washed up and ruined, like trash washing back up on the shores of beaches he visits. Or, in just a short while it’ll be visited.
“I’m sorry, m—” Chan chokes. “Mom. I did everything I could.”
Just as he is about to slip into eternal sleep, a bright light opens up in the sky. It’s blinding, and warm?
Why is it so warm? Is this heaven?
Suddenly an otherworldly amount of pressure is pressing on his body, like the weight of the skies is laying flat along where he lays in the road. The air slowly leaves his lungs, deflating like a balloon that wasn’t tied. His entire body relaxes, and he feels himself being pushed further into his body, into his own mind.
Is this really what dying feels like?
—
Chan wakes up in a hospital room.
His body is aching, and his head is filled with an uncomfortable pressure. Breathing hurts, and he’s sure his ribs are broken. The machine that’s keeping track of his vitals beeps rhythmically, and he lets out a, albeit pained, sigh of relief at it.
He looks up at the ceiling, like he was looking up towards the heavens and thanking whatever God was gracious enough to let him keep living.
“Ah! You’re awake!” A voice says, cheerily. A woman in her late thirties is standing in the doorway. Her slick black hair is pulled into a low ponytail, a few strands falling into her face from being up for what Chan presumes to be hours. “I’m your nurse, Eunkyung. I’ll go grab the doctor.” Chan barely has the chance to respond before the nurse leaves, the sound of her shoes squeaking steadily quieting as she hurries down the hallway.
The doctor follows her into the room a few minutes later, inspecting his eyes and the nasty bruising around his ribcage. “Do you remember your name?”
“Bang Chan,” he answers. “Do you know how I got here?”
“You walked yourself here, do you not remember?” The doctor asks, bewilderment encasing his wrinkled face. “You were a sight to see. I don’t know what kind of God has your back but, you should have died last night. It’s quite literally a miracle.”
Chan’s head pounds at the doctor’s words, and he flinches. He pinches the bridge of his nose as an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.
“We’ll keep you here for another day or two to see how you’re feeling. Do you have any family we can call?”
“Oh, uh,” Chan looks down at his scraped hands, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “No, I don’t. My emergency contact should be Seo Changbin, though.”
Changbin does make it up to the hospital that same night, with Han Jisung bounding in right behind him. Changbin and Jisung aren’t one to shy away from theatrics, so when they finally enter the room, the younger of the two is loudly shouting in distress as he practically launches himself onto the bed to lay with Chan.
“Oh, my precious hyung! I can’t believe you almost died!” He wails out, wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders and obnoxiously crying out, the sound of his faux wails echoing into the room and piercing Chan’s eardrums and racking his brain even more.
“Ah, Sung. I love you, but please don’t yell. My head feels like it’s splitting.” He whines out, pinching the bridge of his nose once again.
“Yeah, the doctor said you have a pretty nasty concussion,” Changbin says. Chan nods, trying his best to move his shoulders to shake the younger boy off, but to no avail. Han Jisung is glued to his side, no matter how much pain it’s bringing to his ribs, but he eventually decides to give up and relaxes in the younger’s hold. Before he can fully relax, though, boney knuckles are making contact with his bicep, which then makes him groan and lurch up, shooting more pain into his torso. He opens his eyes to see that the worry is wiped clean off Changbin’s features, and instead replaced with a feign look of anger. “You idiot! How could you get yourself hit by a car!” Chan flinches at the rising level in the man’s voice.
“Did we forget that I said my head hurts?” Chan whines. “I don’t even know how it happened. One second I was crossing the street and then the next thing I know I’m laying in the middle of the road.”
“The doctor said you walked here,” Jisung says. “How did you even manage to do that, hyung?”
“Funny thing is, I don’t even remember doing it.”
—
Chan’s discharged after three days, and given a stern order from Ms. Eunkyung to “take it easy” until his head fully clears. He chuckles to himself, because he knows he’s not exactly going to follow that order.
Not if he wants food on the table.
Speaking of food; his fridge is empty. Save for a stick of butter, a gallon of milk Chan is more than a hundred percent sure is expired, and a singular tomato staring at him pitifully. Even the tomato looks like it’s on its last leg, too. He cringes.
Suddenly, his head starts pounding again. He groans, shutting the fridge door and stumbling to his couch where he throws himself down on it. He lets out a pained whine as the pressure in his head builds, and he’s almost convinced his head is going to explode.
“Am I dying for real this time?” Chan whispers to himself. The pressure feels almost familiar, like how it did when he was dying because soon it’s encasing his entire body again and his eyes slip closed.
—
When Chan awakes again, he feels so far away, like he’s not fully in his body.
He must have taken a harder hit to the head than he thought. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone when he moved to his bed. He thinks maybe he should call Minho over to watch him in case he passes out like that again. Maybe he really is dying this time.
Fuck. This isn’t entirely how he wants to go out. Alone, in his shitty apartment with no one around, barely any food in the fridge and nothing to his name that can be tied to any sort of legacy.
Though, he isn’t surprised he’s dying this way. It’s just his luck.
“Can you stop thinking so loud?”
What the fuck.
That was his voice. But he’s sure he wasn’t talking.
“Oh you mortals and your need to constantly think, think, think!” He feels his palm hit against his temple.
What..
“You’re not dead, kid. Well, not until I leave this vessel,” He says… to himself. He sighs. “I’m a god. Gotta say, you decided to go and get yourself killed at just the perfect time too. I didn’t even have to find you.”
What?!
“Don’t yell! You echo in my head and it’s giving me a headache!” The god scoffs, rubbing at his temples. “I’ll explain it to you in a second I just…” just then, Chan’s stomach growls and the god groans. “I’m fucking starving. When’s the last time you ate? You mortals love treating your bodies like shit.”
I ate… Wait, what time is it?
“It’s the next morning,” the god responds.
The next morning?!
“Yes! Gods, stop yelling!” Cato shrieks, gently knocking his fists on the top of his head in an attempt to quiet the human in their shared consciousness. “You were out for quite a while. I was convinced I completely shoved you out of your body. Just my luck I got someone who holds on, though. Tsk.” Chan watches as the god moves his body to sit up in his bed, swinging his legs over to firmly plant them on the ground. He groans, his body is sore and his joints are aching. Chan groans too, still able to feel everything. Just a little more dulled, but he still feels that incessant knot in his neck he’s never been able to get rid of. “You really let this thing get this rickety? How old are you?”
Twenty five.
“So young,” the god says, an almost mournful tone in his voice as he stretches his (their?) arms above his head. He walks out of the tiny bedroom and into the main apartment. “Cute place,” he chuckles. Chan doesn’t respond, as he watches the god look around the small apartment and take in everything. The god’s curious gaze lands on his stack of records, old vinyls he’s collected since he was about fourteen. “Nice collection.”
Thanks. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?
“After I feed myself,” the god quips. “So impatient.” He rolls his eyes as he makes his way into the kitchen. Chan doesn’t miss the grimace that paints across his face as the god stares at the stack of dirty dishes in the sink.
Don’t roll my eyes at me.
“I’m piloting this plane right now, so they’re my eyes.” The god snaps.
Can you at least tell me your name?
“Cato,” the god responds as he opens the fridge. Cato lets out an indignant sound at the sight. The same stick of butter, expired milk, and pathetic tomato are glaring back at them once again. “You have no food, you useless man! How are we supposed to eat!”
I haven’t had the time to go grocery shopping.
“How have you not died earlier?” Cato asks, sarcastically.
You’re so not funny.
“It’s still a sensitive topic, I see,” Cato quirks his eyebrows. “Where can we get food?”
There’s a convenience store down the street I usually go to when I’m in between groceries.
“Is this your definition of in between groceries?”
Shut up. I’m a busy guy.
Cato doesn’t respond as he goes and gets himself dressed. He pauses putting on the tee shirt he chose to look in the mirror the human has hanging on his wall. He’s bruised heavily on his torso and his face is scraped up. He and the god both grimace at the damage done to his body. “How did you even manage to do this?”
It’s not like I was playing chicken with the car. It just happened.
“You got hit? And they didn’t take you to the hospital?” Cato presses down on the bruise along his ribcage, which sends a sharp pain to crawl up his spine. Chan whimpers quietly in his head at the touch. Cato whimpers out loud. “That’s why I had to walk us there myself.”
That’s usually what entails in a hit and run. Stop touching it! That hurts. Wait – you were the one that took me to the hospital?
“Yeah. I was in a lot of pain… You can feel that?” Cato asks, eyebrow raised as he looks in the mirror. He presses on it again. Chan lets out a whine.
Yes. It hurts. A lot. My ribs are broken. I don’t know if you remember, but that’s what the doctor said. At the hospital. That you walked me to.
“You lost a lot of blood last night,” Cato says. “I don’t know how I managed to heal your cracked skull but not the bruises and your ribs. But also, this isn’t just your body you stupid mortal. It’s mine, too.” Chan sighs, annoyed.
Maybe they weren’t life threatening?
“No, it’s not that,” Cato murmurs. He places a finger on his chin, eyebrows scrunched as he racks his brain (or, his borrowed brain) for an answer. His stomach growls again. “Oh, man. I can barely think. Food first, everything else later. Oh, and try not to talk to me. I don’t wanna look like a weirdo talking to myself on the street.”
You could just not respond out loud.
Go fuck yourself.
Walking to the convenience store was quick. The cold winds nip at Cato’s nose, painting it a delicate shade of red by the time he enters the store. The heat from inside the building wraps him in a hug, thawing his frozen nose and hands as he steps in almost instantly. The store itself is small, maybe four aisles at best with a line of freezers and fridges lining the back wall. There’s a table with a microwave and two two-seater tables next to it.
Cute.
The old lady that owns it gives me a discount because I help her stock sometimes.
That’s called a job.
I don’t work here.
But you do — whatever I’m not arguing with a stupid mortal.
Didn’t know God can get hangry.
I’m not “God”, I’m a God. Did you not hear me when I made that exact distinction when you woke up earlier?
I see I’ve hit a nerve.
It’s like if I called you an animal when you’re a human. It’s rude.
To whom?
To me! And to the big man himself, but that’s not who we’re concerned about right now.
Sorry, God.
Are you not going to apologize to me?
No.
“Fucking mortals.” Cato whispers under his breath as he walks the aisles.
I heard that.
You were meant to!
“Chan?” a soft, pretty voice speaks out from next to him. Cato whips his head to find a girl. She has a look of uncertainty on her face, but once she realizes it actually is who she thought, a bright smile paints across her angelic face. “Hey! Missed you in class yesterday.”
Cato stands there, shell shocked. His mouth drops open and he’s standing there, gawking at her for a full ten seconds. For some reason, after seeing this girl, a hole feels as if it’s torn open in his chest, where his heart should be. It’s painful. Raw, carnal pain shoots through his chest and it makes his eye twitch.
Answer her, idiot! Don’t make me look stupid!
“Oh!” Cato sounds out, plastering a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, you…”
Y/n. Her name is y/n.
Y/n. Why does that sound so…familiar?
“Hey?” You say, confusion lacing your voice. The confusion is wiped away once your eyes settle on the scrapes along his jawline and eyebrow, concern replacing it instead. An attentive hand reaches up and carasses against his cheek, and both Cato and Chan have stopped breathing. They both can feel how their cheeks heat up at your touch. Cato has half a mind to flinch away, and he does. Your hand retracts immediately, your mouth pulling to the side in regret for accidentally hurting him. In truth, you didn’t touch him. But the heat of your hand so close to his skin felt as if it was burning. Your pretty eyes are filled to the brim with worry, and you ask, “What happened to your face? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just took a pretty nasty fall last night,” Cato responds, sheepishly. He scratches the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. “That's why I wasn’t in class yesterday. Had to go to the hospital and get my head checked out.”
“Oh, that’s awful! I’m glad you’re okay, though!” You respond, your bright smile coming back to your face, though it is tainted with worry still. “Since you missed class, we were partnered together for a project. Maybe we can meet and I can go over the notes and the project with you? Or I can just… send them to you.”
Tell her we can meet tonight.
What happened to ‘taking it easy’?
Chan only laughs in response.
“I’m down to meet you tonight, if that’s okay.” Cato smiles down at you.
“Yeah, for sure!” You chirp. “I’ll see you at your studio tonight, then? I get off work at seven!”
Studio?
Y/n and I major in music production.
“Cool, I’ll see you there.” Cato responds. You give him a wave goodbye, making your way up to the cashier to check out your things. Cato was so in shock he didn’t even notice you were carrying anything.
His stomach growls. He groans quietly.
For someone who had such a sense of urgency over eating, you sure are taking a long time to get something to eat.
Will you shut the fuck up?
________________
❝i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door.❞
As Eve bore child after child for Adam, for the earth, that pit she so desperately tried to bury in her stomach grew bigger. More insistent. She watches as more and more of her children experience many things she didn’t get to; exploring, meeting, falling in love with who they choose and so on and so forth.
As much as she hates to say it, let alone even let it into her heart, she resents her children. She resents Adam. She resents the life that the strings of fate have weaved for her, as she watches her children experience the freewill that God gifted them. Yet she and Adam are forced to simply be their means to an end, to push their future generations along so the human race may flourish.
As she sits in the garden, weaving a crown of flowers and singing a song she does not think has been orchestrated yet, the stream she sits in front of singing quietly with her, a snake slithers up to her. It’s beautiful brown scales and equally as beautiful brown, slitted eyes glint etherally in the early morning sun. She extends a gentle hand towards it, its forked tongue stretching out to slide across her fingers curiously. She giggles at the ticklish sensation, watching with her own curiosity as he climbs up her forearm and upwards so its head rests gently against her naked shoulder.
She goes back to weaving the stems, the soft melody she hums lulling the snake to sleep against her shoulder.
________________
So, I’m… your vessel?
“Correct,” Cato responds, watching the electric kettle impatiently. Cato had finally decided on food after you left, a bowl of ramen and a couple seaweed snack packages he managed to find in Chan’s desolate cabinet. Seriously, why doesn’t this guy have any sense of care for himself? “Every God and angel has a vessel on earth in case we need to come down.”
Can you just not come down in the way you look?
“No. Our heavenly form will drive an ordinary person insane,” the god lets out a small noise of glee once the kettle settles, indicating it’s finally done heating the water. Humans, as stupid as they can be sometimes (he’s looking at Chan, specifically), they sure have made quite a few amazing inventions. Just like this kettle. He’s absolutely enamored with it. “We originally weren’t supposed to have access to earth. We were just supposed to observe from the heavens.”
But?
“But, there’s just some things the Big Man dangles in front of you and you take the bait,” Cato pours the water in the bowl of ramen, watching as the spices he added immediately dissolve in the scolding liquid. He chuckles in amusement to himself as he recloses the paper lid, laying a pair of chopsticks over it to keep it closed. “Hey, how long should this sit for?”
Like two or three minutes. What do you mean by bait?
“A lot of god’s fell in love with mortals on earth,” Cato answers. “You ever read any Greek mythology stories? Apollo and Hyacinthus. Eros and Psyche. So on and so forth.”
I mean, yeah, but, I didn’t think they were real or anything.
“Oh, they’re definitely real,” the god chuckles. “Apollo and I are friends, actually.”
No way! So, like, is every God from every religion real, then?
“Yeah.” Cato shrugs. He takes the chopsticks off and rips the paper cover off of the bowl, excitedly using the chopsticks to stir the broth and noodles around.
So, why did you come to earth?
Cato pauses. He’s standing in the middle of the kitchen like an idiot, frozen in real time as he stares dumbfounded into the bowl of noodles. Why… Why did he come to earth?
Hello? Earth to Cato? Your food is gonna get cold.
“Oh, right,” Cato shakes his head to rid him of his internal struggle. “I… I don’t know why I came to earth. I don’t seem to remember.” He manages to make his way to Chan’s kitchen table, which is just a small round table with two rickety chairs in the corner of his living room.
So do vessels usually die before god’s possess them?
“No, not usually – ah! Fuck, that’s still hot,” Cato whines, sticking his burned tongue out and waving air onto it with his fingers. Chan’s laugh echoes in his head, and he makes an offended noise from the back of his throat as he continues fanning his tongue.
So, me dying the same time you came down was just… pure luck?
“Yeah,” Cato makes sure to blow cold air onto the noodles this time. “I mean, lucky for me. Not so much for you.”
What’s gonna happen when you leave?
“You’ll probably die.”
But you healed me? Shouldn’t that stay when you leave?
Cato shrugs. “Don’t know. You’re technically not even supposed to be conscious like this, either. I’m supposed to have full control of your vessel if I possess it.”
Comforting.
It’s silent after that. Cato is grateful Chan has stopped playing twenty questions. It gives Cato’s one track mind a way to fully focus on his food and not about the fact that he does not remember why he’s even here in the first place. But it’s not like he can just go back up to the heavens and ask someone. As annoying as he is, he quite likes the human that’s his vessel. It’s a shame that once the god is done on earth, Chan’s fatal wounds will most likely come back full force.
Cato hopes he’s able to leave fast enough to not have to witness it.
After Cato ate, Chan was insistent on switching when it came time for his meet with you later in the evening. It took a lot of bickering back and forth, but once Chan got it through the stubborn god’s head that you would know something was off with him (that didn’t have to do with his head injury) the second Cato opened his, in Chan’s words, “big dumb mouth”.
“Why do we have to pass out to switch?” Chan asks as he steps out of the shower.
Do you always have this many questions? Gods, I feel like I’m speaking to a toddler.
Chan copies his words in a silly voice, rolling his eyes as he does so. “Sue me for wanting to know how to work my body with someone else camping in it.”
The way you said that just sounds so… weird.
“And a god possessing a human body is just a regular Tuesday, right?” the human jokes.
For us, yeah.
“Shut the fuck up, Cato,” Chan chuckles, shaking his head in faux annoyance. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror and runs his fingers through his thick curls. For some reason his stomach is buzzing at the thought of being in his studio with you.
Why are you so nervous to see y/n?
Chan’s cheeks heat up. “I’m not,” he mutters.
You know I can feel everything, right?
Chan doesn’t respond, too afraid that his voice might way to just how flustered he is. It’s true he finds you very attractive, and your personalities mesh well together. You both have a lot in common and since the day he met you he’s felt a weird, otherworldly pull towards you. “You said her name was familiar to you. Why?” Cato doesn’t respond for a minute, and Chan almost wonders if the god even heard him ask. “Cato?”
I… I don’t know. Just when you said it it just felt like deja vu for some reason. How long have you been friends?
“Since she started college,” Chan replies. “She’s like two years below me.”
Chan doesn’t miss the weird boulder that settles in his stomach. But for some reason, it feels distant. Like it’s not his boulder.
________________
❝apollo showed me the sun. told me not to fly too close or else i would be one with the people on the land.❞
The snake visited Eve in the garden everyday, in the same spot, resting its head on her naked shoulder as she weaved crown after crown of flowers every day, humming the same tune. It became a routine, and then it became something for Eve to look forward to. She finally had something for herself! Adam was out every day for most of it hunting so Eve spent a lot of time with this serpent.
She couldn’t place her finger on why, but when she was alone, weaving her flowers, with the snake on her shoulder, she’d talk. Like word vomit, she vented about her unhappiness in the garden and her jealousy towards her children being able to explore the vast earth and experience things she will never have the privilege to. For she was cursed to stay here, day after day, weaving her flowers in the garden, and bearing more and more children for a man she felt absolutely nothing for. Even the garden, once vibrant and vast to Eve, was now growing dull and shrinking in on her. She feels trapped, she’d say. Her world was dying, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Why me?” She asked the snake one day. “Why did I have to be the first one made? Why do I have to carry this responsibility? Why wasn’t I asked first? Where’s my freewill?”
The snake nuzzles its head, like it was gesturing that it was listening to her. “I wish you were a person,” Eve whispered. “Maybe then I’d have someone who gets me.”
The serpent nuzzles its head again. Eve’s eyes well with hot tears.
She’s so lonely.
________________
Chan is reeling.
It’s hotter in his studio than usual. It’s definitely not because you’re alone with him in his studio and for some reason that’s making him more flustered than usual. Definitely not. He’s definitely not noticing the perfume you used, or the way your fingers flit over your laptop keys almost elegantly, the click of the keys echoing in his ears. He also most definitely was not looking at how your thighs look sitting in his extra chair, or how your dainty necklace falls on your neck, the charm brushing against the low collar of your tee shirt.
You’re sweating profusely right now. Calm down, you pervert.
Shut up, Cato. I feel like I can barely breathe right now.
Yeah, I know. That’s why I said calm down, pervert. Did you not hear me?
“Are you okay, Chan?” You ask him, concern washing over your pretty features as he tugs on the collar of his shirt for the fourth time in thirty seconds. “Do you want to cut this short and meet another day? You don’t look so good.”
Chan all but stops breathing when your delicate hand reaches up and presses gently against his forehead. Your hand is cold, and it works to cool his heated skin almost immediately. His eyes fall close, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “No, I’m okay,” he says, opening his eyes again and giving you a gentle smile. He watches as your cheeks flush the slightest bit. “Just needed a second is all.”
“Let’s take a break, yeah?” You say, closing your laptop as an excuse to not look at him for a second. Chan nods, and then it’s quiet for a minute. Neither of you know how to act around each other. Sure, you were friends but you weren’t best friends. Chan and you also never really hung out one on one, it was really always you, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung or anyone else in your classes. While he didn’t consider everyone to be his friends, always keeping to his close knit circle, he did know a lot of people, and those people also happened to know you. So it was never the right time to get to know you. “So… Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” You puff your cheek out, shyly. Chan can’t help but let the smile stretch across his face.
“What’s there about me you wanna know?” He asks. Your cheeks flush again, and you scramble to keep your hands busy, opting to twirl your pen between your fingers.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “We’ve known each other for so long but I don’t think we’ve ever really had the chance to actually know each other.”
He nods. “You’re right,” he sucks in a breath, letting his gaze fall towards his desktop as he thinks of what to tell you. “Well, I was born in Australia.”
“Yeah, I know that,” you giggle. “You and Felix talk about it all the time. What’s it like there?”
“Hot,” he chuckles, shrugging. “It’s beautiful, really. All my family is still there so there’s… like this part of me that’s still there with them, if you get what I’m trying to say.” Chan lets out another breathy laugh, suddenly embarrassed.
“I think I do,” you say, nodding your head. “Like a piece of you is missing because it’s back home?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Chan says. “I miss it sometimes.”
“I bet. It must have been hard moving here all by yourself.”
“I mean yeah, but… I don’t know, as much as Australia is my home, this is also home, you know? I love what I do and I’ve found my people. So it makes up for the part of me I left at home,” you both nod along to his words, small smiles shyly turning up your mouths. “What about you?”
“Well,” you sigh, still twiddling with the pen. Your leg starts shaking. “I’m from here.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Chan copies your words, which brings out a giggle from you. His heart lurches.
I felt that.
Shut up.
“I don’t know, I…” you trail off, letting yourself think of what you wanna say. “My moms a school teacher and my dads a realtor, so we’re well off on my dad’s money. They’re kinda the… traditional, married at nineteen, had me at twenty, church every sunday, and have a certain plan for their daughter kind of people.”
“And?”
You shrug. “For the most part I went along with what they wanted me to do. Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect boyfriend that I’ll one day have to marry and continue the cycle,” Chan doesn’t miss the way his eye twitches at the mention of a boyfriend. “But, I really rocked the boat when I said I wanted to go into music production.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s… Well they say it’s unrealistic,” you sigh. “I’ve always loved music, and when my perfect, middle class family life got to be too much pressure to uphold, it comforted me. I taught myself all the instruments I know.”
“Impressive.” He chuckles.
“Right?” You giggle along with him. Chan decides he really likes that sound. “But, they expected me to almost go into something… I don’t know, easy? Something that will let me rely on Seojun when we eventually get married.”
“Do you want to get married?” Chan asks, eyebrow raising a little. Your fingers stop twiddling with the pen and your leg goes still for just a second before it picks up again.
“Honestly? No,” you say. “It’s just not something I feel like is for me. Of course, I want to spend the rest of my life with someone but I don’t need a piece of paper or an expensive ring to solidify that I love them and they love me.”
“How long have you been with Seojun?” Chan almost feels the bile that coats the man’s name as he says it.
“Three years,” you answer. “My dad is business partners with his dad and we met at a company party and it just kind of… I don’t know, happened.” You shrug.
“Is he in college too?” You nod your head yes.
“He’s in finance,” you glance over at him. “He’s actually almost done. He’ll be working under his dad after he graduates. His dad is also paying for his real estate classes after he graduates so he can sell commercial properties.”
It’s quiet again, and your leg is still shaking. Your face, now pointedly looking away from him, holds a sort of… loneliness. And almost a hint of regret for even saying what you did out loud.
Don’t ask that.
“Can I ask you a question?” Chan interrupts the heavy silence, and pointedly ignoring Cato’s warning. You hum, letting yourself look at him again. The loneliness he saw on your face floods your eyes. It’s almost overwhelming. “And you can tell me if I’ve crossed the line and we’ll never talk about this again.”
Don’t ask that.
“What is it?”
“Do you… like Seojun?”
And you asked it. I cannot believe you.
Your face falls, but it doesn’t morph into anger like he thought it would. You don’t yell at him, or tell him to mind his business and storm out. He doesn’t know why he was expecting you to lash out at him like that, though. Call it anxiety, he guesses. Instead, that loneliness intensifies — if that was even possible. You’re quiet for a minute, almost like you were deciding to lie to him or if you were about to spill something he’s not sure he — or you — would know what to do with.
“He’s nice,” you settle on. “We don’t have that much in common, but he treats me well.”
I don’t like that answer.
Neither do I.
Chan only nods, though.
“Should we get back to it, then?” You ask, your mouth turned into a tight lipped smile.
“Yeah.” He smiles.
You both delve into a rhythm of bouncing ideas off each other, and the building almost obsessively on the idea you both really like. Chan doesn’t know why he hasn’t worked with you before this, you’re so smart and your ideas are so unique and full of life. He can really see your love for music and the creative process behind making it. His heart flutters a bit at the thought that you both share this pure love for music in the same way.
“Do you wanna maybe meet again tomorrow?” You ask as you pack up your stuff. By the time you both decide to call it quits, it’s nearing one in the morning. He walks with you to your dorm, and he can’t help but smile shyly at the hopeful look in your angelic eyes. You're holding onto your tote bags strap that sits comfortably on your shoulder. He sees you shiver a little, and then only notices the pathetic little jacket you decided to wear despite it being less than forty degrees outside. He fights giving you his jacket. He would, normally without hesitation, but after learning you have a boyfriend he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries, no matter how cute he thinks you would look swimming in his hoodie.
Down boy, down.
Will you stop?
I’ll stop when you stop being such a male.
“We can go to the cafe on campus after class,” Chan suggests. You nod, giving him a bigger smile at his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you say. Your eyes glint with excitement as you nod your head. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
“Will do.” He reassures you as you open the main door to your dorm and walk in. He waves to you from outside and then steps off the porch, walking down the lit walkway, unable to erase the smile from his face.
You like her.
“Shut up,” he sputters out. “She’s always been in my sights, and I always thought she was cute. We just never had the chance to bond like that before. Changbin or Jisung are always usually with us, or my other friends.”
Too bad she’s someone else’s.
Chan rolls his eyes. Quietly, though, he wonders what would have happened had he met you before you met Seojun. Would you be his? Would you be happier with him?
Cato heard those too.
________________
❝didn’t know my world was dark until you came.❞
Eve sits in her usual spot, weaving her flowers once more. It’s another day, but this time she’s by herself. The snake hasn’t showed up yet, but she hopes it's on its way now. She tries not to let herself get too upset over not having her usual companion today, but she can’t help it. This newfound routine of her weaving flowers and talking to the snake while he rested peacefully on her arm has brought her more happiness than anything else in the garden – even the entire world – could.
So when a day turns into two, and then turns into three, then seven, her mood worsens. Even Adam, as unobservant as he is, noticed her change in mood. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong though, of course he doesn’t. As much as he claims to love her, to cherish her with his entire earthly being and his heavenly soul, he never seems to notice her until he wants to bend her over in the grass and give her another baby. Or two. Or three.
On the eighth day, when Eve is back at her favorite spot, weaving flower stems, a frown on her lips, a man approaches from out of the brush. It’s a man she has never seen before, but he is beautiful. Chocolate brown eyes and pretty brown hair to match with them, he gives her a gentle smile. “Hi,” he says. “You might not recognize me.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Eve says, on guard. She’s covering her body, cautious. “You’re not one of my children. So who are you?”
“I– I’m the snake,” he says. “My name is Cato. I’m a god.”
“Cato,” Eve repeats, the name swirling around her tongue pleasantly. “That means all-knowing.”
“Yes.”
“So, why did you come to me as a snake and not as yourself, Cato?” She asks, sitting up straighter against the tree behind her. “Why not show yourself to me from the start instead of deceiving me?”
“Forgive me, my dear,” he bows his head in apology. “I did not have an earthly body, and my heavenly form would have scared you. I transformed myself into a snake to meet you, and until my earthly body was ready. I am sorry for tricking you.” His eyes, his beautiful eyes, shine with genuine regret.
“What do you want from me?” She asks.
“Forgive me if I sound weird,” he starts. “But I was there when God made you. You are so beautiful, I will never understand how he did not make you an angel. Alas, I fell for you. And then before I could say anything, he sent you down here with Adam. And I had no way of meeting you anymore.”
“You…” she trails off. “Fell? For me?”
“Yes, my angel,” he says, walking closer and settling himself on his knees before her. “I fell for you. You have my heart. And if you let me, I would love to have yours.” The god takes her delicate hand into his, running his thumb over her knuckles. His hands engulf hers, long, spindly fingers holding hers with such love, such gentleness that she’s never felt from Adam’s rough, calloused hands.
She finds her heart fluttering at his honey coated words.
________________
When Chan gets home from dropping you off at your dorm, he remembers to send you a quick text before he retires into bed.
When he sleeps that night, he dreams. He dreams of him, in an earlier time, walking with you through a beautiful garden.
Your cream colored dress encases your body so elegantly, and the way you wore your hair out of your face yet still cascading down your back makes you look so… ethereal. Your arms are linked together, and he can’t help but stare at the side of your angelic face as you giggle at something he says. “You are a character, Mr. Bang,” you say in between giggles. “I sure am glad you came home from the war, alive and healthy.”
“I am too,” he says, his own smile unable to leave his face. “It’s just a shame I couldn’t marry you before I left. I hope Lord Emroy is treating you well, though, and giving you everything you could ever want.”
Your smile falters, and your gaze flitters away from him. Loneliness fills your pretty eyes and you quiet for a second. “He does treat me well, Chan,” you glance up at him for a quick second before your eyes cast down to the ground once more.``But that does not mean I am happy with him.”
“I see,” is all he responds with, his own smile falling.
“Why did you not marry me?” You ask, voice wavering.
He sighs, stopping your walk and placing himself in front of you. He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I wanted to marry you, I still want to marry you. But, I could not let you wait for me, for if I were to not have come back, I would have made you a widow, and you did not deserve that. You are beautiful, Y/n. And you deserve to have the chance to have a long, healthy, and loving marriage.”
“My marriage is anything but loving,” you say bitterly, tears welling in your eyes. “Sure, he doesn’t belittle me like other husbands, but it is not a marriage forged out of love, Chan. It was a business transaction. I was property he wished to buy,” a single tear falls down your cheek, down your neck and soaking through the neckline of your gown. His heart breaks at seeing you cry. He cups your face, letting his thumb wipe the tears falling from your eyes away.“He will never love me the way you did.”
“I am sorry, y/n.”
“I would have waited for you,” you continue. “I would have waited lifetimes for you.”
He wakes up in the morning, confused. The sadness he felt within the dream stays with him as he gets ready for the day, unable to shake the sinking feeling in his stomach. It’s uncomfortable, and he tries to get it to go away by saying to himself in the bathroom mirror, “it’s just a dream. Why are you so upset about it?”
Upset about what?
“Oh,” Chan says, startled by Cato’s questioning voice in his head. “Just… A weird dream. It’s nothing.”
Whatever you say, human.
Chan doesn’t respond, brushing his teeth in a tense, perturbed, silence.
—
Classes were dragging. He’s unable to fully pay attention to what his professors are saying because he can’t get the dream out of his head. Why did it feel so… real? And familiar? Like it's actually happened before? And the loneliness in your eyes from the dream matched the loneliness he saw in them last night when you were talking about Seojun.
Your thinking is echoing and it’s annoying me. What was the dream about?
A nicer way of asking “what’s wrong” is just asking what’s wrong, you know.
Chan’s eyes roll, but he doesn’t do it himself.
Don’t roll my eyes for me, I’m the one in control right now.
Sorry, I just had to show you my annoyance somehow.
This time, Chan does roll his eyes.
“Hyung?” Minho whispers from next to him, tapping his pen against the older man’s forearm. “Are you okay? You keep rolling your eyes.”
Damn, were they that dramatic?
Roll your eyes quieter next time, idiot.
You’re the idiot.
“I’m okay,” Chan reassures quietly. “Just trying to keep them from falling shut.”
“Did you not get enough sleep again? Do I need to start coming over and knocking you out?” Minho balls his hand into a fist, and it takes everything in Chan to not laugh at his friends' antics. Before he can respond, though, their professor clears his throat in annoyance, giving them a glare from his spot in front of the lecture hall. They exchange embarrassed glances before going back to listening to the lecture.
He quickly makes eye contact with you from a few seats in front of him, and he watches in amusement as you scramble to face completely forward, flustered that he caught you staring at him. He exhales a laugh at your antics, shaking his head slightly as he goes back to typing on his laptop.
Cute.
Yeah.
After class ends, and Chan’s packing up his stuff, you walk up to him, your tote bag over your shoulder, giving him a shy smile. “You ready?”
Minho wiggles his eyebrows at Chan, and he tries not to notice how his cheeks flush at his younger friends' antics. “Yeah, let’s go,” he responds. He turns to Minho, who’s giving him a raised eyebrow. “See you around, Min.”
“Yeah,” the younger male responds. “Bye, y/n!” He waves her a goodbye, of which you copy quite excitedly. The corner of Chan’s lip turns up into a small smile at your antics towards the other male. He knows that out of their whole group, you seem to be closest with Minho and Hwang Hyunjin, always seeing you three together in passing. He wonders if you two will start getting closer, even after the project is finished. He hopes so. He doesn’t think he can go about just being casual to each other – especially after last night's conversation.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Your voice breaks through his thoughts, causing him to shake his head a bit in response.
Good going, idiot.
Shut up, Cato. As if you’ve done any better with her. Remember the convenience store?
This isn’t about me right now.
He fights rolling his eyes. “No reason,” he answers you. “Come on, let’s get some coffee.”
The cafe he took you to is the one right across the street from the building your class was held in. It used to be a house, now repurposed as a cafe, and it has the perfect homey feel to it to help you feel comfortable and relaxed as you picked a seat in one of the upstairs rooms that has a couple tables in each of them for a little more privacy. The morning sun is shining brightly into the window, and Chan can’t help but let out a small chuckle to himself as he watches the way you squint from the sun as you try and look out the window. “Should I close the blind?” He asks as he sits across from you, pushing your tea to your side.
“No,” you say as you happily pick up the cup. You blow on your tea to cool it down, and Chan can’t help but let his smile grow at the way your cheeks puff out dramatically when you blow on the drink. “I like sunbathing. Minho’s cats and I will lay on our bellies together in front of the big windows in his living room.”
“I’d love to see that sometime,” he laughs out. He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flush and you giggle shyly in response. “I’m sure Min has a plethora of pictures of it.”
“Don’t tell him I told you but,” you start, taking a sip of your tea. “He joins us.”
“Somehow I really don’t doubt that.”
You fall into a rhythm once more over your project, and after a couple hours, you both decide to take a break.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” You ask him out of nowhere, now sipping on a second cup of tea. Chan chokes on his coffee, but he quickly covers it up by clearing his throat.
Cato laughs. Nice one.
Shut the fuck up, Cato.
“No, I’m not,” Chan answers, taking a more cautious sip now. “I’ve never actually been in a serious relationship.”
“Oh?” you say, quizzically. “So, you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“No, I have.” He answers, his cheeks heating. He doesn’t understand why he’s so flustered with your questions, even if they did come out of nowhere. Well, he does understand why. He just doesn’t wanna say it out loud.
They weren’t y/n, though, right, Channie boy?
Cato, I swear to God.
Don’t bring the Big Man into this.
“But?” You inquire.
“But,” he copies. “They just didn’t work out. We wanted different things.” He shrugs, and you nod in understanding. “Why the sudden interest in my love life, y/n?” The teasing lilt to his voice causes you to stammer out, falling (rather cutely) over your words, trying your best to come up with a reason. Chan chuckles at the rattled expression on your face.
You know why she’s asking.
I don’t.
Don’t be stupid, Chan.
Chan fights a scoff at the god’s words, not wanting to give you the wrong impression. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to explain who’s camping in his consciousness with him without taking a trip to the nearest psych ward.
‘Man claims God lives in him’ has been a headline I’ve seen too much in the time humans have existed.
I wonder why.
Before Chan can continue the conversation he has with you (more like redirect it so he doesn’t have to admit to his commitment issues), something – or someone – catches your attention from behind him. The way your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and a flash of disdain that goes away as fast as it showed up cause Chan to turn around. A man is seating himself in the room across the hall, a blonde girl at his side as they laugh at something the man says. He turns back around to see that you’re still looking at them. “Y/n? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, that’s Seojun,” you say. Chan’s stomach drops, turning back around at the exact time Seojun turns to look at the two of you. Something flashes across the other man’s face, but it’s gone before Chan can even fully register what it is.
Seojun turns to the blonde next to him, before he turns back and starts walking towards their table. Seojun is… wow, is he tall. And buff. Chan almost feels intimated.
Oh great, here comes the jolly green giant.
Chan has to force himself to not laugh at Cato’s comment as he turns back to you. You give him a weird face, which he decides to ignore.
Cato, please.
I’m just saying. Why is God so unfair when he makes you humans? He could have given Seojun’s extra height to you.
Stop it!
No one needs to be that tall is all I’m saying.
“What are you doing here, babe?” Seojun asks as he stands next to you at the table, a rushed lilt to his voice. Almost like he’S panicking. Chan watches your face as it drops, the tight lipped smile you give to your boyfriend is clear to no one but him. “Who’s this?”
“This is Chan,” you answer. “He’s my partner for a project.”
“Hey. I’m her boyfriend, Seojun,” the other man says, outstretching his hand for Chan to take. He does, giving it a firm shake and a quick head nod in greeting. “Though, I’m sure you’ve already heard of me.”
Arrogant.
Tell me about it.
“Oh, I’ve heard plenty,” Chan responds, the snark in his voice subtle enough that it seems like a genuine compliment. “She said you were in finance.”
“Oh, yeah,” Seojun answers. “It’s gonna help out a lot, money wise. This girl right here wants a big wedding. Isn’t that right, babe?”
Chan’s eye twitches as he looks to you for your response. Your smile is that of discomfort, tight lipped as you rigidly nod your head, not making eye contact with Chan.
“Who are you with?” You ask, changing the subject as you strain your neck to look into the next room. “Is that Aecha?”
Seojun’s face drops. “Oh, uh, no. That's my project partner,” he answers quickly. “We have a business plan due in a couple weeks so we’re meeting to get it done early.”
“Oh, okay,” you say simply. Your eyes stay on the girl in the other room, squinting a little in suspicion.“I didn’t know you had a project.”
“Yeah,” Seojun rubs his neck, almost nervously. “Well, I should get back to her. I’ll leave you two alone, now. Don’t forget about the dinner with our parents tomorrow.”
“How could I,” you mutter as he starts walking away. “I’ll see you later.”
Chan’s almost grateful that Seojun didn’t kiss you. It seems you look grateful he didn’t, too. He can’t help but notice the way your mood instantly sours after Seojun leaves, though you try not to show it too much. You give him a forced smile. “Shall we continue with our project then?” You ask him, your voice pitches higher towards the end, and Chan knows you’re uncomfortable.
I don’t like him.
Neither do I.
________________
❝i could die in your arms.❞
Eve is giggling.
She’s resting her head on the soft grass that encases her body, the edges of the blades tickling against her naked waist. Cato lays next to her, chuckling along with her. “So,” she starts as she sits up on her side, picking a flower from the field and rolling it between her fingers gently. “If your name means all-knowing… Does that mean you’re a god of knowledge?”
Cato quiets. Eerily quiet. In the short time Eve has known him as his humanly self, he is never short of words. He always has a story or a joke to tell, Eve wonders how his puny human lungs can even hold that much air for him to talk so much. So, for him to go as quiet as he did, she worries.
“Did I say something to upset you?” she asks, her delicate fingers stopping its movements. He also sits up on his side, letting his long fingers brush through the front of her hair as a small smile encases his beautiful face.
“No, my angel,” he responds. “You could never do anything to upset me,” his thumb swiped gently across her bottom lip, and then down her chin before his hand fell back to his side. Eve feels her face heat up. “I’m not the god of knowledge, as you might think. Actually… I’m a calamity god.”
Eve doesn’t respond. “Like… the flood? That kind of calamity?”
He nods. “I was ordered to flood the earth myself.”
“It killed everyone…” Eve whispers, widened eyes filled with tears. “Why?”
“God is…” Cato trails, unsure if he should continue. His eyes, so beautiful and such a deep color, cascade down to glare at the grass blades dancing in the wind, unbeknownst to them that a god is staring them down with a look of disdain on his expression. Eve can see the regret and the anger in his eyes as he stares down at the earth beneath them. Eve wishes she can rid him of the hatred he feels for himself.
He doesn’t have to say anything, though. Because Eve knows how God is. She knows how He is all too well. For she, too, has been forced to be things she does not wish to be, solely because the person who created her says so. Her own eyes well with tears. Tears of anger and sadness, for both her and Cato. She doesn’t think anyone on this damned planet will ever understand them the way they do each other.
“Did you want to?” She asks. Cato shakes his head.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he adds. “It’s what I was created for. To bring destruction.”
“I think you’re more than what you were meant for.” She says, a smile on her face.
Eve doesn’t expect it, but the god starts crying. And as he cries, she cradles him in her arms, brushing her fingers through his curly hair. “You are good, Cato,” she whispers in his ear, letting her lips ghost gently against the shell of it. “It does not matter what you have done, you are good.”
She presses a gentle kiss to his temple as his wails echo in the garden.
________________
Chan doesn’t hear from you all weekend. You weren’t in class Friday morning, and you haven’t answered any of his messages since before your dinner with your parents. He hasn’t thought much of it. He assumed you had a late night on Thursday and just skipped class the next morning because you were nursing a hangover.
“Hey, have you heard from y/n?” Minho asks him Monday afternoon, when their whole group is sitting at a table in the cafeteria. “I’m only asking because you two have been… close recently.”
His cheeks flush as he watches his other friends look at him with widened eyes and agape mouths. “Uh, no I haven’t. I was actually just gonna ask you the same thing.”
“Didn’t she have dinner with her parents on Thursday?” Jeongin asks. Chan nods in response. “Last I heard from her was when she was asking me which outfit was appropriate for the dinner, she didn’t seem like she wanted to go, though.”
“Yeah, she was texting our group chat during it and she wasn’t having a very good time. But she never usually does with her parents involved.” Hyunjin adds, taking a bite of his noodles.
“What group chat? I didn’t get anything in our group chat,” Jisung whines, opening his phone to double check.
“Me, y/n, Minho hyung and Felix all have a separate group chat together,” Hyunjin answers casually. “She was texting in there.”
Chan tunes them out as Jisung and Changbin start whining that they want a group chat with you, but all Chan can focus on is how you’ve gone completely silent since Wednesday.
“Hey, hyung,” Felix says, getting the older man’s attention by waving his small hand in front of his face. “Don’t worry about y/n. She’s okay. She goes ghost like this sometimes, especially after an event with her parents. She’ll come back around soon, she just needs to recharge.”
“Are you mad at her for not answering you?” Minho questions, eyebrow raised. The younger male looked as if he was waiting for Chan to answer the wrong way.
“No, of course not. Why would I be?” Chan shakes his head in response. “I was just worried. We’ve just… been talking a lot recently and I wasn’t sure if I did something to upset her or anything.”
“I don’t think you could ever do anything to upset her.” Felix mutters, and Chan watches in confusion as he and Hyunjin both share a knowing look with one another. Minho elbows Hyunjin in the ribs.
It means she likes you, idiot.
Do you know how to be nice?
Chan doesn’t get any response from you until Tuesday night. A simple “can i come over?” was all you sent him.
Now, he’s panickedly cleaning his apartment while he waits anxiously for you.
Why don’t you clean like this on a normal day?
“Because,” Chan grunts as he scrubs at a particular stain in his bowl. “I’m a busy guy and don’t have time to keep up with things regularly.”
Just as Cato is about to respond, there's a knock on the front door. Chan stops in his tracks, hurriedly rinsing the bowl and adding the last couple of dishes into one side of the sink to hide them as he runs to answer the door, clumsily drying his hands on his pants. When he opens the door, you’re standing there, glaring at the space where the door was a second ago. “Hey,” he says, which snaps you out of your trance to look up at him.
“Hi,” you answer softly, smiling. Though it doesn’t match the defeated look in your eyes. “Can I come in?”
Chan nods, stepping aside as you walk into his apartment. He follows you to his couch, where you both sit on opposite ends. Your legs immediately go up, knees pressing against your chest as you wrap your arms around your legs. You’re not making eye contact with Chan, and it makes his stomach hollow in anxiety. You look so sad it almost feels like it’s creeping into his bones, souring his mood and ramping up his anxiety as he sees you cave in on yourself from the other end of his couch. He watches as you bat away tears, rolling your eyes in annoyance as they fill your pretty eyes.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Chan asks softly, scooting himself closer to you. He crosses his legs on his couch and turns his body to you, giving you a softened, welcoming look. The hand that isn’t propping his head against the back of the couch is twitching on his legs to reach out, to hold yours to comfort you. But he doesn’t want to over step and make you uncomfortable. You don’t answer, seemingly falling back into a spaced out trance, if the unfocus in your eyes is anything to go by. He lets his finger gently rub against your shin to get your attention, and he watches as your eyes fill with tears once more as you look up at him. “What’s wrong, y/n?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip. “Just… wanted to see you.”
Chan doesn’t believe it, giving you a raised eyebrow. “Just to see me?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing. “I missed you is all,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, giving him a small smile. “I got used to seeing you all the time now.”
Chan’s cheeks flush, and he tries not to let his smile get too dopey as his heart flutters at your words.
Oh! You pathetic man.
Stop.
“How was the dinner with your parents?” Chan asks. You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your throat as you look away from him. “Was it bad?”
You’re quiet. You look as if you want to say something, the words on the tip of your tongue and threatening to spill over. But you hesitate. You’re biting your tongue as you contemplate your next words. It almost concerns him.
“If I do something,” you start quietly. “Would you be mad?”
Chan’s eyebrows scrunch, his head tilting to the side in question. “What is it?”
“Can I try something?” Eve asks, tilting her head as her eyes flicker between Cato’s mouth and his pretty dark eyes. Cato nods, watching in nervous anticipation as Eve climbs over his lap, plush thighs on either side of his lips as she leans in and ghosts her lips against his.
Cato catches her mouth in a soft, tender kiss. It raises goosebumps to their skin, and their heartbeats quicken. Eve’s belly erupts in butterflies, climbing up her throat and she lets out a small sound. Cato hands find home at her waist, the pads of his fingers indenting her skin as he squeezes gently.
You finally look at him, eyes flitting down the length of his face, stopping at his mouth before looking at him again. Your gaze flickers between his mouth and his eyes before you lean forward, your nose ghosting against his as your lips meet. Chan responds immediately, cupping your face and deepening the kiss.
It’s shy, yet so electric. The butterflies you feel in your stomach are intense, prickling up your back and making you light headed. It isn’t long before you're clamoring across the couch and into Chan’s lap. His hands slide down your waist before he wraps his arms around your back, caging you into his body. He keeps his mouth working against yours, and can’t help the way his cock jumps when your hips shift a little, pressing your clothed core against him. Your hands hold his face, your thumb brushing against the apples of his cheeks every once and a while. His heart swells at the noises you make as you shyly start to grind yourself down against him, wanting to feel him more and more against you.
Should you really be doing that?
Doing what?
Kissing someone who isn’t yours.
“Wait,” Chan says as he pulls back. He has to swallow the groan that’s threatening to escape his throat as he takes in the sight of you. Your cheeks are red, lips swollen and spit slick. You already look so fucked out and all he’s done is kiss you. He feels like he’s going crazy. “What about Seojun?”
“What about Adam?” Cato asks Eve as he breaks away, his fingers rubbing circles on her hips.
“It was never Seojun,” You respond, shaking your head. Your thumb swipes against his cheek. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Chan.”
“It was never Adam,” Eve responds, nails digging into the skin on his shoulders. “I waited for you for so long, Cato.”
“Since the day I met you,” you continued, breathless. Somehow, your cheeks turn redder. He doesn’t think you could look more angelic than right now. “I’ve wanted you.”
“Since the day I came into existence,” Eve sighs out. Cato thinks she looks absolutely ethereal this way. “I’ve waited for you.”
Cato can’t help the smile that stretches across his lips as he leans up to kiss her again.
Chan doesn’t respond, only placing a hand at the back of your neck and pulling you back down to him. He kisses you again, this time a little more desperate, a little more aggressive. You whine, letting your lips fall open so his tongue can explore inside your mouth. Your mouths work in perfect sync with one another, a desperate, needy, rhythm that says more than any words in the English and Korean lexicon could ever say. He can’t explain the way he feels while he’s kissing you, but he feels as if clouds are filling his head.
His hands move back to your hips, helping you to grind down against his hardened cock, and he doesn’t miss the way your whines sound more and more breathy each time he moves you against him. “Have you ever had sex before?” He asks you.
“No,” you say. “No one’s ever touched me, either.”
“You mean, in the three years you’ve been with Seojun, he hasn’t fucked you once?” Chan asks, eyebrows furrowing and a sense of pride filling his chest. You shake your head. “Why?”
“I didn’t want him to.” You whisper.
He doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist as he stands up from his couch, carrying you into his bedroom and gently placing you atop his sheets.
Cato lays her naked body gently on her back in the soft grass. She looks so pretty like this, some of hair still laying softly over her shoulders and the rest blending beautifully with the grass, eyes widened in curiosity. “I got you, my love,” he says in a gentle voice as he crawls over her. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”
He thinks this sight alone is enough to be painted and framed in a gallery. Eve, splayed out like this for him with her ruddy cheeks and widened eyes. It was a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.
He kisses her again before letting his mouth move from her own to her cheek, jaw, then down her neck, biting softly on his way down.
Chan unbuttons your jeans, and you help him with getting them off your legs and onto his floor. He takes off your shirt and bra next, leaving you only in your underwear. He crawls over you, his thigh slotting in between your legs and ghosting against your clothed cunt. “Let me take care of you, my love.”
He kisses your lips once more before he places a kiss on your cheek, then along your jaw, then down the expense of your neck, leaving pretty purple marks along the way. He stops at your breasts, ghosting his mouth around one nipple before taking it into his mouth. His free hand comes to tweak the other, softly pinching and rubbing along the top of it while his mouth works at the other. Your hand weaves its way into his soft curls, pushing them off his forehead so you can see what he’s doing better. He almost moans at the feeling of your hips bucking up to slide your cunt against his thigh.
“Just like that, angel,” he mutters against your skin. You whine, your fingers almost kneading the top of his head. He presses his thigh more into your core, giving you more friction that makes your sensitive body jolt and your breath hitch.
He doesn’t stay long at your breasts, opting to let his kisses and marks trail down your torso, right to your hips. He settles onto his stomach, hands holding the under part of your hips as he takes in the sight of your cunt. A wet patch has soaked through your underwear, sticking to your lips and outlining the shape of you. He presses a gentle kiss against the wet patch, and he doesn’t miss the way your hips jolt back. “Chan,” You whine.
“Yes?” He coos, freeing a hand from under you and letting his pointer finger gently ghost along your cunt. You wiggle your hips, trying to get more pressure from his finger but he pulls it away. “You have to tell me what you want, angel. Wiggling your hips isn’t gonna help me know what you want.”
He watches in adoration as your cheeks flush yet again, your eyes darting to look everywhere but at him as you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want you to touch me,” you whisper. “Please, touch me.” Your words come out so breathy, so desperate, it makes Chan’s head want to explode. He gives you a smile.
“Anything for you, my love,” he responds before he sits back up on his knees, letting his fingers grab ahold of the waistband of your panties and sliding them slowly down your legs with your help. They fall somewhere on the edge of the bed behind him, but it’s not something he’s concerned about as the musky smell of your cunt hits his nose again as he lays back down. Your cunt glistens so prettily for him, and he forces himself to hold in a moan. “You’re so pretty.”
His fingers slide up and down between your swollen lips, and you let out small whines whenever his fingers rub a teasing circle against your clit that’s peeking out between your slit. He kisses along your inner thighs, across your mound as he slowly inserts a finger into your entrance.
Cato kisses along Eve’s thighs, before he gives a broad swipe of his tongue up the expense of her cunt. She gasps, hips twitching. “Has he ever done this to you?”
“No,” Eve sighs out as Cato gives another broad swipe. “He barely touches me.” Cato doesn’t respond, letting his tongue circle around Eve’s clit, which elicits a moan to fall from her pretty mouth.
“Don’t worry, my angel,” Cato says. “I’ll show you just how a man should love you.”
Your walls clench around his finger, and he places gentle kisses against your sensitive nub, whispering, “Relax, baby. I got you.” Your body deflates when you let out the breath you were holding, your own hand falling towards the hand that’s gripping onto your hip. You intertwine your fingers together, and he gives you a reassuring squeeze as he crooks his finger up into that spongy spot that has your back arching slightly and a gasp falling from your pretty lips. His mouth attaches itself to your clit, alternating between lightly sucking and feverish kitten licks. Your hand squeezes his as shy moans involuntarily fall from your lips at his ministrations.
He feels his cock pulsing at each sound you let out, and he can’t help but grind his hips down onto the bed for some friction of his own. “Chan, more, please,” you whine out, bucking your hips into his face. He doesn’t hesitate to add another finger, scissoring you open as his mouth continues at your clit. He pumps his fingers in and out of your entrance slowly, making sure to hook up when he plunges back in. You’re so tight around his fingers, and he can’t help but let out a moan at the thought of you taking his cock, sucking him into your warm walls. The fact that no one has ever touched you – not even your own boyfriend – and that he has the honor of being your first is driving him up a wall.
Only he gets to see you this way. Only he gets to hear your whiny moans, and only he gets to see the pretty way your body reacts to his touch. He can't help but let his fingers get a little faster, a little more prominent in the way they press against that sweet spot that has the coil tightening in the pit of your belly. “Chan.”
“You gonna cum, angel?” He asks against your pussy, keeping his steady yet harsh rhythm of his fingers plunging into your hole. You let out a hum as your response, and he can’t help but smile against your cunt. He keeps his mouth on your clit, his eyes rolling back as you let out another moan, your hips bucking to feel more, more, more. You clench around his fingers, your pretty sounds are strangled as your body clenches up, and that’s when he knows to remove his mouth from your clit, watching your face as your jaw slacks, and your body writhes so prettily under him. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” He slows his fingers, helping you ride out your high on his fingers. You feel so much more wet than before, and it takes every ounce of control Chan has to not dive back in and overstimulate you, drive you to another one. And another one. Until you’re spent and begging for him to stop, yet pushing him closer to continue.
Next time.
He moves up your body, and kisses you again. You let out a whine when you taste yourself on his tongue, your own essence covering your chin from his own as he licks into your mouth. You use your legs to redirect him, so his clothed cock lines up with your dripping pussy as he grinds his hips down against you. You shiver, still sensitive from just a second ago. “I want you,” you whisper. He pulls away, looking at you with widened eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “Cause if you’re actually not ready, tell me. I’ll wait for you.”
“I’ve waited for you long enough,” you answer, rutting your hips up against him. He sucks in a breath. “Please?”
Chan only nods as he climbs off you to discard his clothes to the floor. The bruising on his side hasn’t fully gone away, but it’s not as bad as it was last week. “Was that from your fall?” You ask him as he climbs over you again, your delicate fingers ghosting over his ribcage.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, looking down at your hand. “I didn’t actually fall, though. I got hit by a car.”
“I know.”
Chan gives you a double take, eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agape in confusion. You giggle and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You know?”
“Yeah, I was with Changbin and Jisung when he got the call,” you respond, still giggling. “I just figured you said you fell to not worry me.”
Yeah, we can go with that. Really I was just saving you the embarrassment. Who gets hit by cars these days?
Don’t ruin this, Cato.
Chan only chuckles softly, his smile widening and crinkling his eyes in such a pretty way. You can’t help but lean up and press your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks to bring his face down with yours. He kisses you back quickly, letting you take the lead as he opens your legs and maneuvers himself so his cock can glide along your slit. You lift your legs more, letting the head of his cock catch along your entrance. “Please,” you whisper against his mouth. “I’m ready.”
Chan moves a hand down to guide the tip of his cock into your entrance, and he goes slow as he sheathes himself inside. You tense up, the pressure a foreign feeling. “Relax,” he whispers, kissing along your cheek and down your jaw. A small whine leaves your mouth and he stills his hips immediately. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt it just… feels full.”
“Yeah?” He asks, letting himself move again. One his hips are touching yours, you can fully feel him snugly inside you. You feel so full, and it’s so overwhelming but so addictive at the same time. It feels as if you were molded to fit him. He gives an experimental movement, and your hands immediately go to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You can move.” He kisses you, distracting you as he pulls out and then plunges back in again. He keeps it at a slow rhythm at first, letting you get used to the feeling before he gradually starts speeding up. You were so tight around him, your velvety walls welcoming him in with each time the head of his cock ghosts along that spongy part that has the breath punched out of you again and again.
“You feel so good, angel,” he grunts against your neck. “Like you were made for me.” You can only choke out a moan in response, nails raking over his shoulders. He intertwines his fingers with yours above your head, and he digs his face further into your neck as he places wet kisses along it.
Cato intertwined his fingers with Eve’s as he slowly moved his hips. “You’re mine?” Cato asked.
“Yours. I’m yours,” Eve gasped in response.“I love you.” Cato can only smile as he dips his head down to capture her lips in a messy kiss.
Chan keeps a steady pace, making sure to angle himself upwards when he thrusts back in. He hits deep, stretching you around his cock and every time he’s at the hilt, it knocks the wind out of your lungs. The breathy moans you let out at each thrust sends Chan deeper and deeper into the clouds, mind hazy and senses full of you. You’re everywhere, it seems, encasing his body in yours as the whole world melts away. He about loses his hold on himself when your quivering walls start clenching around him, greedily sucking him back in. His thrusts speed up, his one hand letting go of yours and finding home under your head, a fist full of hair as he brings your body as close to his as possible. The feel of your breasts pressing against his chest grounds him a bit, and he lets out a strained moan from the back of his throat.
“Cum in me,” you manage to say in between strangled sounds. “I want it, please.”
“Just a little more,” Chan grunts out. “Almost there. Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so good for me, angel.”
Chan’s hips still, his cum shooting into you and painting your walls. He moans, whiney, as he shoves his face back into your neck. Your hands move to his hair, raking through it as you whisper in his ear.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
��
You spend the night at Chan’s house, only sending a simple message to your group chat with Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix where you were staying and that you were okay. Your simple message respectively blows up the group chat, with Felix and Hyunjin practically screaming to tell them details, and then Minho crashing into your world like a meteor with one single question.
Did you break up with Seojun?
You decided not to answer that question (because you haven’t), only texting back that you’ll explain when you get back to class on Friday and then shakily put your phone down on the coffee table. You look over towards the kitchen to see Chan’s back towards you, the sizzling of the food in the pan the only sound filling the apartment. You can’t help but smile at the sight. You uncross your legs from the couch, walking into the kitchen area and standing behind Chan. Your arms wrap lovingly around his waist, your cheek pressing into his back and you feel his body relax into your hold. He turns down the stove and turns around in your hold, a smile adorning his features as he places a kiss against your lips.
“Thanks for letting me stay last night,” you say as he pulls away from you. “I didn’t want to face Ryujin’s interrogation yet.”
“Well, now you’re gonna have to face mine,” Chan says, raising his eyebrow at you. You smile sheepishly at him, your gaze tearing away from his. He lifts your chin up, forcing you to keep eye contact. “What happened?”
You sigh, pulling your body away. You run your hand over your face as you lean against the counter behind you. Chan does the same on the opposite side, giving you an expectant look as he waits for you to start talking. “I found out Seojun was cheating on me. At the dinner.” You say, voice a little shaky.
Chan pauses, and his stomach drops. Seojun was cheating?
Don’t act as if you aren’t happy to hear that.
I’m not happy! That’s awful!
You know what I mean, you idiot. You’re happy he’s out of the way now.
Chan doesn’t respond to Cato, focusing his attention back to you. “I’m so sorry, y/n,” he responds, his arm stretching over to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t deserve that.”
You take in a breath. “Yeah, well,” you shrug. “It happens. Sad thing is, I can’t even say I’m surprised. Looking back, it makes a lot of sense.”
Chan’s eyebrow furrows. “Did… you break up with him?”
Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “I… haven’t yet.”
And you slept with her.
“You… You haven’t?” He asks, confusion painting across his face. “Why?”
“I— I was going to,” you start. “I just… I wanted to see you first,”
“y/n,” Chan says, voice shaky. “Am I a rebound?”
You shake your head vigorously, your own eyes shining with unshed tears. “No! No, I really wasn’t planning on last night happening at all. I wanted to break up with him first but I just… I don’t know, I had to see you first.”
“Did you mean what you said?” He asks. “About wanting to be with me as long as you said?”
“Yes,” you nod. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Hyunjin or Felix. Even Minho. They know how I feel about you.”
Chan’s quiet. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know what to think. On one hand, the selfish hand, he’s over the moon he had you in his bed last night, and he’s still a bit drunk off your words from last night. But, on the other hand, he wants to send you on your way, to give himself, and you, some space. He can’t believe he didn’t prod further about what you meant last night. He just assumed by your confession, you had already broken it off with Seojun.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I should probably go.”
“Call me when you break it off with Seojun, okay?” Chan finally says, nodding his head. His heart clenches as he sees a tear fall down your face. “We’ll talk about us after that.”
The silence that replaces the apartment after you leave is deafening.
Chan?
“Not now, Cato,” Chan replies, shaking his head. He can feel a migraine coming on, his eyes becoming sore and sensitive to the bright lights of his kitchen. “Shit,” a pained whimper falls from his throat as he massages his eyes. “I think I need to call someone.”
I remember why I came to Earth.
“Can it wait until later, please?” Chan winces, annoyance mixing with the pain in his voice. “My head is fucking splitting.”
Chan…
“Cato, for fucks sake, please!” He yells, which makes his head pound even more. “I can’t figure out your problem right now.”
Cato doesn’t respond.
Chan calls Minho, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best idea, but he knew Jisung and Changbin would be loud and dramatic and he really didn’t want that right now. Minho is quiet, and he knows what to do when Chan is under the weather.
The younger male is quick to arrive, immediately shoving pain pills into Chan’s hand and ordering him to take them. “Were you making something?” Minho asks as he points to the pan.
“Oh, yeah,” Chan said from the couch. His head feels as if it can explode. “I was making y/n and I breakfast when—” he stops himself, looking over through his lashes at the other man.
“I already know,” Minho says. “So, where is she?”
“Uh, well,” Chan starts, having to take a second to will away the urge to vomit. “I slept with her…”
“And?”
“She never broke up with Seojun before we did.” Minho sighs, shaking his head as he joins the brunette on the couch.
“I told her she needed to do that first,” Minho responds. “She’s just as impulsive as Han Jisung. Worse than Han Jisung, actually.”
Chan wants to chuckle, but his head is somehow getting worse. His body starts aching again, as if the bruises are coming back. And suddenly it hurts to breathe. “Min,” he grunts out. “Min, I think we need to go to the hospital.”
“What’s wrong?”
Chan?
I feel like I’m fucking dying again.
Chan collapses to the floor, and when Minho slides down with him does he notice the blood pooling and staining the rug underneath the older man’s head. “Fuck. Fuck, okay. Hold on, hyung. I’m calling for help.”
Suddenly an otherworldly amount of pressure is pressing on Chan’s body, like the weight of the skies is laying flat along where he lays in his living room. He starts to panic, lungs starting to work overtime as Minho calls the emergency hotline from somewhere in the room.
Cato, what’s going on?
Your… Your injuries are coming back.
A white, blinding light floods Chan’s vision from the ceiling, and he feels a pull from the light.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Cato?
I’m getting taken back, Chan.
Cato! Don’t leave me!
The air slowly leaves his lungs, deflating like a balloon that wasn’t tied. He feels like a layer of his skin is being peeled away as the pressure in his head worsens, and Cato’s voice gets farther and farther away.
“Ca—” Chan tries to call out to him, but he passes out before he could.
I’m dying.
________________
❝took my breath from my open mouth, never known how it broke me down.❞
Cato and Eve snuck around under Adam’s nose after that fateful morning in the garden. Always meeting at the spot where they first met, making love to the song of the stream whenever they could. It felt different with Cato. It felt… good. Like lying with this man wasn’t a chore, but something she felt was their way of bonding. Connecting. She didn’t give a damn what God said.
She was not made for Adam. She and the god, Cato, were weaved from the same essence that brought them life — a single soul split into two different beings. And by lying with him, it strengthened that. She was his, as he was hers.
Cato was such a gentle lover, compared to Adam (if you could even call Adam a lover). Cato took her into his arms and worshiped her body as if she was a Goddess herself. The way his fingers indented her skin on her hips when his head was in between her thighs, lapping at her nectar, had her seeing stars. She found God in a lover, and the forbidden fruit tasted so sweet on her tongue.
Eve was happy.
That happiness didn't last long, though. And she was foolish to think it would.
She swore Adam went out to hunt that day, she saw him off. So, how he managed to find Eve at the stream hanging off a cock that wasn’t his, she’ll never know.
Adam told God right away.
Cato was ripped from her before she could even get to her knees. Before she could beg. She watched as a bright light encased Cato’s earthly body from the heavens, the light so blinding she’s forced to look to the ground if she still wished to keep her sight. She wailed that day, a mantra of inhuman, throat curdling sounds ripped from deep within her core as she punched her fists into the soil.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” She howled. Adam stood behind her, face stoic as he watched Eve mourn the loss of her lover.
“It’s what you deserve,” Adam spits. “You’re lucky I’m gracious enough to let you live. Your pretty face would be one with stone if I was anyone else.”
Eve’s crying stopped then. The garden of Eden was silent, not even the stream was brave enough to sing. Everything was dead still, a simmering animosity burned brightly just under the surface of Eve’s plush skin. Adam’s stoicism fell as he caught the look on his wife’s face.
It was that of pure, unadulterated rage.
“I should have strung you up to that tree when I had the chance.” The venom drips from her words and poisons Adam’s veins the second they hit him.
—
“You weren’t supposed to tempt Eve,” God’s commanding voice boomed across the heavens. Cato sat on his knees, wrists and ankles chained to the marble ground. Different god’s sat around, watching the serpent intently, curious as to what was to happen to him. “You weren’t even supposed to make yourself known to her.”
“I told you why I was going to Earth,” Cato responded, voice tired. “I told you I fell for someone.”
“And that person was not supposed to be Eve!” Thunder cracked angrily across the sky. Murmurs erupted among the other gods. “You have tainted her, driven her off her path to her purpose.”
“Her purpose?” Cato repeated, indignant. “Her purpose is to be a breeding cow for a man who can’t even bother to see her as his equal?”
“And you were equals?” God laughed, a bellowing, boom laugh at the lesser god’s foolishness. “You’re a god, Cato. A heavenly entity that simple mortals can barely fathom the concept of. And you think Eve and you are equals?”
“I love her.”
Whispers of “love her?” echo through the chamber.
“She’s not yours to love!” God’s angry voice silenced the whispers, a tense stillness crushing Cato and pressing on his lungs. “You know I have to punish you.”
“Punish me all you wish,” Cato spat. “It will never deter how I feel for Eve.”
“Oh, my sweet child, it will.”
—
Cato wakes to cold biting at his skin. It’s so cold, so so cold. His eyes open to gray skies and heavy snow sprinkling along his cheeks. Snow covered trees line the horizon of his bleary vision, head pounding and body aching. He moves his fingers, feeling under the layer of snow and making way to the dead grass underneath.
He’s on Earth.
He tries to sit up, but his chest is burning and he’s having a hard time moving his arms. He feels like his body is being held down by a cinder block, unable to move himself from his spot.
“General Bang!” A voice shouts, muffled. He moves his head to find the voice, but a face comes into his line of vision as he looks right. “General Bang! You’re badly injured, don’t move. Wagon! I need a wagon!”
“What happened?” Cato whispers out, and the man grabs one of his hands from the snow. “Who are you?”
“It’s Hwang!” the man yells. “Hwang Hyunjin, do you remember?”
Cato wasn't able to respond as his eyes fell heavy and then closed.
When he awakes again, he is in a tent. He shoots up in a panic, looking around the space. A sharp pain shoots through his chest, making him groan and his elbows give out. “Hey, easy,” the same man says as he helps Cato lay back down. Hyunjin. His long black hair is tied up out of his face, a look of relief washing over it as he settles back down in the chair next to Cato’s cot. “You got a pretty nasty gash across your chest. It’s a miracle you didn’t die out there, Chan.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“I mean a dozen other men died from the same wound,” Hyunjin responds. “Your guardian angel is really looking out for you.”
“What happened?”
“Did you hit your head? We’re in a war,” Hyunjin responds, his eyebrows furrowed. “This was the most brutal battle we’ve fought in three years. How hard did you hit your head?”
Chan’s memories of the past couple years flash in Cato’s mind – like a short synopsis of what his vessel has been up to before he took over. Cato realizes that at that moment, Chan was dead. Cato was the sole entity keeping this body alive.
But why?
“Pretty hard, I guess,” Cato chuckles in response. “Does that mean… we won?”
“You bet your ass we did,” a smirk spreads across the male’s mouth. “We lost a lot of good men out there, though. Not looking forward to letting their wives know they’re widows now,” Cato nods his head, his gaze flitting around the ceiling of the medical tent. Hyunjin nudges his arm again, a grin on his face. “Are you gonna go back to y/n?”
A pulse shoots throughout his entire body at the mention of your name, a sinking feeling in his stomach that’s accompanied by the racing of his heart. He only shrugs. “If she’ll have me.”
“I don’t think she’d have anyone else.”
—
The war ends, and the troops all come back home. And Cato finds himself in front of a beautiful castle. Memories of Chan courting you for years flash in his mind. He seemed to have really adored you. Cato feels a twinge in his heart at the thought that Chan will never be able to experience being with you.
But, to Cato, you give him an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Like he already knew you. Like he already knew your body, your soul, like the back of his hand. So, when he visits you after three long years, and you were already taken by another man, his heart shatters. For Chan, and for another unknown reason he doesn’t think he’s ready to explore.
He still walks with you in the garden that day. Your arms are linked together, and he can’t help but stare at the side of your angelic face as you giggle at something he says. “You are a character, Mr. Bang,” you say in between giggles. “I sure am glad you came home from the war, alive and healthy.”
“I am too,” he says, his own smile unable to leave his face. “It’s just a shame I couldn’t marry you before I left. I hope Lord Emroy is treating you well, though, and giving you everything you could ever want.”
Your smile falters, and your gaze flitters away from him. Loneliness fills your pretty eyes and you quiet for a second. “He does treat me well, Chan,” you glance up at him for a quick second before your eyes cast down to the ground once more.``But that does not mean I am happy with him.”
“I see,” is all he responds with, his own smile falling.
“Why did you not marry me?” You ask, voice wavering.
He sighs, stopping your walk and placing himself in front of you. He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I wanted to marry you, I still want to marry you. But, I could not let you wait for me, for if I were to not have come back, I would have made you a widow, and you did not deserve that. You are beautiful, Y/n. And you deserve to have the chance to have a long, healthy, and loving marriage.”
“My marriage is anything but loving,” you say bitterly, tears welling in your eyes. “Sure, he doesn’t belittle me like other husbands, but it is not a marriage forged out of love, Chan. It was a business transaction. I was property he wished to buy,” a single tear falls down your cheek, down your neck and soaking through the neckline of your gown. His heart breaks at seeing you cry. He cups your face, letting his thumb wipe the tears falling from your eyes away.“He will never love me the way you did.”
“I am sorry, y/n.”
“I would have waited for you,” you continue. “I would have waited lifetimes for you.”
Cato doesn’t respond, only letting his eyes flicker around your face, sadness overtaking his gaze. You both stare at one another, so close to each other. It’s quiet, between you two. Not tense, but not comfortable either.
His eyes widen in shock when you lean up to kiss his lips. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, letting his hands cup your cheeks. You pull away after a second though, tears pulling into your eyes. “I’m sorry, I just… needed to know what it felt like to kiss you.”
You turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the garden with the taste of you still on his lips.
Cato is sentenced to live a life next to the reincarnation of Eve, always at his fingertips but never having the right to have her. Chan’s soul was with him for every single one. Each life is a punishment, a test. Each time he gives into his temptation of having Eve to himself, of dancing along that line with her, he is ripped from his mortal body and Chan’s own soul is torn with him.
Chan dies every time.
Again. And again. And again. And again. For millennia, Cato is subjected to always losing Eve in the most brutal of ways just as he finally thinks he has her for himself. As soon as he lies with her, he is forced to leave her soon after.
He can never escape it.
________________
❝i won’t die for love, but ever since i met you, you could have my heart and I would break it for you.❞
Cato sits on his knees in a desolate chamber. It’s deathly still, and eerily silent. The only sound is his breathing – which is slowed. His wrists, bound in enchanted steel cuffs, sit chained to the ground in front of where he sits on his knees. His hair lays on his shoulders, dirty and knotted. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here — it could be months. It could be centuries.
He doesn’t think he cares anymore.
Chan is dead. He has to be. There’s no way he managed to survive the way Cato was ripped out of him like that. He hasn’t survived it in any of the lifetimes Cato spent using his body.
It was cruel — the way Cato and Chan are subjected to this, lifetime after lifetime, a never ending cycle of Chan losing his life before he can even turn thirty all because Cato fell for someone he had no business falling for. He grimaces to himself, shaking his head in defeat as he remembers the way Chan was crying out for him when he was ripped from his subconsciousness.
“When are you ever going to learn?” A voice echoes in the chamber. God.
“I do not wish to speak of this.” Cato snaps.
“Don’t you wish to see how Chan is doing?” God asks, snapping his fingers. A gateway to Earth opens under Cato, and he watches in horror as medics work on his dying body in the middle of his living room floor. “He’s still holding on. For now.”
Cato looks away, clamping his eyes shut. He couldn’t bear to see Chan like that. Not when he knows he’s the cause of it.
Chan is going to die. Again.
“Please,” Cato whispers. “Please, kill me.”
“Kill you?” God repeats.
“Yes, fuck!” Cato spits, his shout echoing deafeningly throughout the empty chambers. The silence that refills the space is enough for the god to break, sobs racking through his body from where he is chained. “I can’t do this anymore. Let Chan live, and let me die. Please.”
God does not respond, only watching as the calamity god wails, a mixture of snot and tears pooling on the concrete from under them. He takes a deep breath before speaking. “Is that what you truly want?”
Cato can only nod his head. “Chan’s life, for my mortality,” he responds, still crying. “I can’t keep watching him die.”
“You know that means he might not be reincarnated,” God says. “The only reason Chan is a living soul on earth was for you to use him as your vessel. He’s not needed after that.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Cato shakes his head. “That’s a better outcome than having to die before twenty six every single time.”
“How do you wish to go?”
“Like Icarus,” he doesn’t hesitate to respond. “I will fling myself into the sun.”
________________
Walking away from Chan has to be the hardest thing you’ve done.
You genuinely weren’t planning on sleeping with him the night before. You don’t know what took over you. It just happened. That’s not to say you regret it, though. Because you don’t. While you’ve never slept with someone before, laying underneath Chan felt so… right. Even if it is wrong from a moral standpoint. But, it felt otherworldly. Not just because the sex was good, but you felt as if it was meant to happen. You and Chan were meant to happen. As cliche as it is, and you cringe thinking of it, you wholeheartedly believe you and Chan were written in the stars, destined to find each other in this life. And the next. Nothing has felt more clear than being with him, and you use that as courage to knock on Seojun’s door.
When he opens it, he’s still in his sleep clothes. “Did I wake you?” You ask, voice and face void of any emotion.
“Kinda,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “What’s up?”
“I just came to say that I know you’re cheating on me,” you start. His eyes widen in quick panic, and he’s about to respond when you put your hand up to stop him as you shake your head. “I just want to tell you that we’re even. And it’s over.”
“You cheated on me?” Seojun repeats, indignation in his voice. “You fucking whore!”
“Yeah, save it, Seojun,” You scoff, shaking your head. “I already know about Aecha so you have no room to take a moral fucking high ground. Just nod and say okay and shut the door with what little dignity you have still intact.”
“Y/n?” A voice echoes from behind Seojun. His mother walks up behind him, a cup in her hand. Her eyebrows are furrowed. “Did you just say you cheated on my son? Do your parents know what you did?”
“I also said he cheated, too, so,” you shrug. Her mouth drops open, her face scrunching up in anger. It looks as if she’s about to scream at you before you continue, “I’ll leave your stuff with Aecha.”
You don’t let either of them speak as you turn around and walk down the stairs and out onto the street. You pull out your phone, about to call Chan and let him know you’re on your way back when Felix’s contact name pops up on your screen. You slide to answer, placing the phone against your ear. “I know what you’re gonna say, but I just broke up with Seojun and I’m–”
“You need to get to the hospital right now, y’n,” Felix cuts you off, his voice shaking. “Chan had an accident, and he might not make it.”
Your phone falls from your hand.
________________
God’s of all origins gather around in the chambers to witness Cato’s execution. Everyone is whispering anxiously amongst one another. One deity stands silent, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at where Cato is chained intently. His heart is heavy, having to watch his dearest friend kill himself in the worst way possible.
“Have you spoken to him yet, Apollo?” Artemis asks as she walks up behind him. “I’m sure he would love to see you one more time.”
“What am I to even say?” Apollo asks. “Nothing I say will change his mind, you know how stubborn he is, that bastard.”
“It still must hurt,” Artemis responds. “You’ve been in love with him since the day he was created. I know it must kill you to see the torture he’s gone through.”
“There is nothing I can do about it,” Apollo shakes his head. “I love him, but it hurts more to see him be thrown back to earth again and again. It’s better this way.”
“He will live on in your heart,” his sister assures, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But you don’t have to put yourself through the torture of seeing this.”
“After a millennia of divine punishment, Cato, god of calamity, has decided to take his life,” God’s booming voice echoes through the chamber, silencing everyone in an instant. “He will join Icarus in the deep sea below.”
Hushed whispers resound once again through the chambers, all of them having remembered watching the man’s wax wings melt from the flaming star and plummeting to his death in the never ending, and unforgiving seas.
Cato does not look up at anyone, not even to God himself. He does not speak, nor does he try to beg for forgiveness. He’s tired. He’s so tired.
God stands next to him, a hand on his shoulder as two angels unlock the shackles from his wrists and ankles. “Chan will wake up once you have hit the seas. You have my word.” Cato only nods in response.
And as he launches himself towards the sun, the burning heat of it burning at his skin and singing his feathered wings, he wails. He wails and screams, mourning his love for Eve and the time he’s spent being tortured with her almost in his grasp. Truly, he thinks death is better than being without her. The sun dries his tears, and it brings him a dark sense of comfort. And when his wings are all but ash, and he’s falling into awaiting waters, he smiles.
Apollo cries quietly as the god’s body is swallowed by the dark blue seas.
________________
Chan wakes up in a hospital room.
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Covering the Classics Part 5 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Bob was willing to try to be friends with Anna, but he knew his feelings wouldn't go away overnight. The more time he spent around her, the harder it seemed to make that happen. When Bradley and Jake make a suggestion about Bob's dating agenda, Anna doesn't seem crazy about it. And Bob ends up even more confused by her actions than her words.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, mentions of cheating, eventually 18+
Length: 5700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
Being friends with Anna was one of the worst things Bob had ever had to do. But being around her while still keeping his distance was better than the alternative, so he had to do it. When she texted him, he responded immediately, and he couldn't stop thinking about how much he'd like to hold her hand.
She was all smiles when he saw her again a few days later. This time, she was the one who invited him out for a cup of coffee on Saturday morning, and he jumped at the chance to go. After cancelling his breakfast plans with Mickey with the promise that he'd be at the bar before Dungeons & Dragons, he hopped in his truck and drove off to meet Anna.
He was early, but she was already there. "Hey, Bob," she said, waving to him from a small table near the back as he approached. She already had two drinks in front of her, and Bob's brow creased in something like annoyance as he made his way to her.
"I was going to pay for your coffee," he said, meeting her brown eyes as he dropped slowly into the empty seat.
"You paid the other day," she replied, sliding the hot tea a little closer to him. "Plus, you bought me two books."
All Bob could think about as he looked at her tentative smile was the fact that he wanted nothing more than to buy Anna every book she wanted for the rest of her life. Massive anthologies and slim romance novels and poetry collections and autobiographies... he wanted to get her every single one that sparked her interest. He wanted to catch her attention in just the same way literature did. He wanted to be what she curled up in bed with after a long day.
Bob cleared his throat. "Thanks for the tea, but next time I'm paying."
"Deal," she said softly before blowing on her hot coffee with another smile.
"Great. In that case, we can go out for an expensive lobster dinner," he told her with a little grin. "You already agreed."
Anna looked at him as she took a sip. "Is an expensive lobster dinner something friends would enjoy together?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
Bob's heart started beating a little faster. "I think friends can do whatever they want."
She studied him for a moment before reaching into her tote bag and pulling out a book. "This is for you. It's from my own personal stash, so it's a little worn out, but I thought you might like to borrow it."
When he accepted the dog eared paperback copy of The Remains of the Day, her fingers brushed against his. "Thank you. I'll add it to my list of Dr. Webber recommendations."
She blushed slightly, and her hand went to her cheek as she said, "Dr. Webber. Sometimes I still can't believe I finished my doctorate after putting it on hold for so long."
Bob sipped his tea. "Why did you put it on hold? It's easy to see how much it means to you."
Anna chewed on her lip before she softly said, "I made some bad decisions, but I won't be doing that again. Do you want to split a croissant?"
----------------------------
"So," Jessica said, heaving a deep sigh at lunchtime on Monday. She looked like she had just received some devastating news, and when Anna glanced toward her other friend holding her tie dyed lunchbox, she found a similar expression on her face as well. "It's true? You and Bob are friends?"
"You don't have to say it like that," Anna replied, dropping down onto the bench between the two of them with the weird looking tree behind her. "You were the ones who encouraged me to make a new friend in the first place!"
"We thought you'd snap out of it after like ten minutes alone with him again," Advanced Calculus said as she bit into the pretty lunch that Bradley had clearly packed for her. "Poor Bob."
Anna scuffed the toe of her old, beat up shoe along the concrete in front of her as she sipped her can of ginger ale. "It's not like I'm some amazing option or something," she muttered, remembering how adorable he looked when she handed him her own book for him to borrow. "Bob could do better."
"Anna!" Jessica gasped. "Don't say that about yourself! It's simply not true! You're the best!"
Anna swallowed hard, embarrassment starting to fill her up as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She wasn't used to being around anyone who said kind words to or about her. The fact that she almost couldn't handle hearing them was making her feel vulnerable. "I just mean... I'm not really emotionally available, so it would be in his best interest to stop returning my crush on him." She was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to stop her own feelings at this point.
The other two women were quiet for a beat, and Anna started to get nervous, but then there was a fancy container of veggies and some sort of dip being held out in front of her. She helped herself to a carrot stick as her friend finally asked, "Are you ready to talk about Kevin?"
She crunched hard into the carrot before saying, "I don't like to talk about cheaters."
Jessica made a disgusted sound and said, "That's probably half of the male population. But... I think it's safe to talk about Bob." Anna groaned, and Jessica quickly added, "Okay, fine, I'll stop now!"
"Kevin cheated on you?" Advanced Calculus said, cutting right to the chase. "What a fucking dick."
"Yeah," Anna whispered, wondering why this lunch meetup was becoming so emotional. "It went on for years, as far as I can tell. I was just too busy working and trying to stay above water to notice at first. He's... still with her. I think." But Anna knew the truth; all Kevin really did was find an upgrade and stick with her. He found another medical doctor with a thriving career, just like himself.
"Men are disgusting," Jessica said ferociously. "I was going through a bit of a rough patch when I met Jake, so keep your head up, okay? There are some good ones out there."
Anna snorted. "I think the two of you found the only good ones left."
"Nah. But I do think they might all be in the Navy."
--------------------------
Bob was surprised on Friday night when he got to the Hard Deck a little later than usual and found Anna there. The deep copper of her hair was illuminated by the lights above the pool table as she stood next to Jake, sipping a glass of ginger ale. She looked like she belonged here now, even though it was just her second visit, and when Bob got closer, he could hear her asking Jake about him.
"So everyone has a call sign? In the entirety of the United States Navy?"
"No," Jake replied with a chuckle. "Not everyone."
"And your call sign is Hangman? And Bradley's is Rooster?"
"That's right."
"What's Bob's?"
Bob smiled softly, enjoying the fact that she was asking about him without realizing he was standing right there. "It's just Bob," he said, making her jump a bit in surprise as she looked up and found him immediately with her dark eyes.
She examined him with a soft smile on her lips. "Just Bob. I think I like that better. I'd probably want to be just Anna if I had a call sign. Do you want to play pool with me? We can lose to Jessica together."
It took Bob a second to put everything together in his mind. Anna wasn't making fun of his call sign where everyone else usually would have been. And now she was holding out a pool cue toward him with a hopeful look on her face that was slowly starting to fade away as he stood motionless. "Yes," he finally said, reaching out to take it from her. Just like at the coffee shop, their fingers met briefly, and Bob just wanted to hold her hand in the worst way. And maybe try to count her freckles. And maybe kiss her. He cleared his throat. "I'd love to play. Losing to Jessica is so much fun."
"It's everyone's favorite way to spend a Friday night!" Jessica replied, brandishing a Sam Adams in one hand and a blue chalk cube in the other.
"No way, Smart Girl. I like what comes later even better," Jake replied, wrapping his arm around her waist, and Bob had to look away as he kissed his girlfriend. Jake had been talking about engagement rings in the locker room the other day, and Bob was sworn to secrecy.
He promised not to say anything. He wouldn't. The two of them belonged together, and Bob could tell how happy they would be, but he still felt nauseatingly jealous of their love. Especially when Jessica kissed Jake and whispered, "Save the dirty talk for later."
Bob's eyes found Anna's as she got the table set up. He was going to work really hard at this friendship thing, but someday when he inevitably saw her with another guy's arms wrapped around her, hugging her, he was certain he was going to have to excuse himself from her presence. But for now, all he could do was look at her.
"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, touching her cheek after she set the eight ball in place.
"Just a cute smile," Bob replied, and then he had the distinct desire to disappear as said smile grew a little bigger before she pressed her lips together. Clearly he couldn't be trusted not to make things weird. "Let's play."
They were about five minutes into the game when Bradley and his wife walked over, and Bob was really enjoying the way Anna accidentally bumped into him. Twice. But then he was reminded of the other topic of conversation that had been brought up in the locker room at work.
"Hey Bob, you still thinking about downloading a dating app?" Bradley asked him casually. Anna fumbled and dropped the blue chalk that she was holding. Bob picked it up and handed it to her, but she didn't even meet his eyes when she took it.
"Uh, I might," he replied, watching Anna miss her shot at the nine ball by a mile. Bradley and Jake were the ones who mentioned the app to begin with, and when Bob showed the slightest bit of interest, they ran with the idea. "Still undecided."
"I can help you make a profile," Bradley said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll just have to let me know if you'd rather find your soulmate or be knee deep in as much pussy as you can handle."
Bob felt his cheeks warm up as Bradley's wife smacked him on the chest and told him to be quiet. When he chanced a glance at Anna, she was already looking at him with wide, brown eyes. Truthfully, Bob kind of wanted to find his soulmate and be getting a lot of pussy, but just from that one person.
"Can we talk about this later?" he muttered, sinking the nine ball for his team when it was finally his turn.
"Sure. We can download it later," Bradley said with a smirk that didn't quite sit well with Bob. That wasn't what he meant at all, and now Anna wasn't even looking at him. It took him bringing her another glass of ginger ale for her to even acknowledge he was still there.
"Thanks," she said softly as she took it from him. They'd been trounced by Jess and Jake, and now they were standing off to the side together. "You know," she added, "if you download a dating app, you'd probably get a lot more attention if you put up a photo of you in your uniform. Or one of those jumpsuit things."
Bob shook his head and looked at his feet. "You'd swipe right?" he asked before he could think better of it.
Anna laughed and said, "Honestly? I'd swipe right if you were wearing your Dungeons & Dragons shirt."
Once again, he didn't know what to say. She only wanted to be friends with him, but this was the second time she told him she found him attractive. "It's called a flight suit," he said, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she did, she looked confused. "Not a jumpsuit."
She smiled again at the clarification. "Well, whatever they are, I like them. And the call signs. Especially yours. You seem like you don't need a lot of fancy stuff. Just Bob."
"Just Bob," he whispered. He didn't need anything fancy, but right now he sure wanted Anna.
--------------------------
On Tuesday at lunchtime, Anna was the first one to the bench, and she had to sit there awkwardly and hope that her friends showed up. She could be back in her office, alone, thinking about what she wanted to do in her next Feminist Literature lecture. She was about to text them when she glanced up as Jessica's glasses reflected the bright sunlight, and both women were heading her way. Then she saw her beat up copy of The Remains of the Day held in the same hand that was holding the tie dye lunchbox.
"This is from Bob. He gave it to Bradley to give to me, and I had to promise to give it to you."
Anna took the book from her and whispered, "Thank you." Had Bob already finished reading another of her recommended books? Was he really this perfect? That's when she noticed there was a slip of paper peeking out between the pages, and she barely heard her two friends talking as she pulled it out.
Anna,
You really need a bookmark. All of the dog eared pages made me feel terrible for this poor book as I read it. I enjoyed the story immensely, but seriously, you need to stop folding the pages over to save your spot. Unless it was your intention to bring an element of horror into the tale? If so, well done. Also, now that I have your attention, do you feel like grabbing a drink on Thursday evening? We could go to Chippy's and eat some of the best peanuts in the world. Just text me and let me know.
Bob
She whimpered softly. Everything this man did delighted her. She wanted to recommend a dozen more books to him if it meant she could have one more little handwritten note to tuck away. Or to use as the bookmark that would keep him from stressing out about the pages.
"Earth to Anna," Jessica said, waving a hand in front of her face and making her finally look up.
"Bob asked me to go to Chippy's with him," she blurted out, holding the note tight in her hand.
"Oh!" Advanced Calculus gasped. "You should go!"
"No," Advanced Physics whined. "That was supposed to be a girls' night outing!"
"I want her to go. It's the only thing that will get Bob off the dating app. I can't believe Bradley brought that up in the first place. He doesn't know a damn thing about it."
"I want her to go with us for the first time!"
Anna looked back and forth between the two of them, that familiar whiplash feeling returning as they argued with her in the middle. But in the meantime, she got her phone out and texted Bob.
If we go to Chippy's without Jessica, I think she might have a fit.
Bob must have been on his lunch break as well, because he wrote back a minute later while the two of them were still arguing.
Bob Floyd: All the more reason to do it, really.
Anna laughed quietly as she told him about her office hours on Thursday, promising to meet him for some life changing peanuts at 7:15. Then she put her phone away and announced, "I'm going with Bob. The three of us can go to Chippy's on a different night."
Jessica looked mildly annoyed while her other friend looked smug and said, "Get him off the dating app. Those women will eat that sweet man alive."
But Anna knew she couldn't and shouldn't even try to do anything about that. Friends were supposed to be supportive of each other, and Bob was her friend. Just her friend. But when she thought about how much attention he was probably getting, it just made her so sad. She could have had that. She could have been the one with his beautiful eyes focused on her while she inhaled his delicious scent.
Maybe she'd just make one quick comment about the app when they were together. "I'll see what I can do."
---------------------------
Of course Bob would get dismissed early on Thursday when he had nothing better to do than wait around until it was time to go to Chippy's with Anna. He skipped the locker room shower, opting to head home to get ready instead, and it looked like Jake and Bradley were of a similar mind as they walked out to the parking lot at the same time as him.
"You said you'd share your lasagna recipe," Bradley said, annoyance laced in his voice. "Sugar really likes it."
"I said I would think about it," Jake replied smoothly. "It's not like you need help getting laid. It's not like you're Bob. No offense, Bob."
He just sighed and glared at the blonde. "I don't need help getting laid."
"Sure, pal," Jake replied as he approached his truck. "But I'll give you a free tip anyway. I'm going to go home and shower and pack up dinner. Then I'm going to stop and get some flowers for Jess, because girls like that shit. Then I'm going to her office hours where the combination of a homemade meal and pretty flowers will have her pulling her panties off as soon as I walk in."
"Please," Bob moaned. His stomach turned at the thought of Jessica, who made up a ridiculous voice for her D&D character, removing any article of her clothing. "Please stop. She's my friend."
"So is Anna," Bradley said with a smirk. "Did you download Tinder yet? Or are you going to stop and get some flowers and man up before you go to Chippy's?"
He didn't know how to explain to them that the last thing he wanted to do was push her away, and he was almost certain that a romantic gesture like giving her flowers would do just that. He also wished he hadn't even told them that he and Anna were going to Chippy's together. It was another excuse to see her, sure, but he was convinced she'd really like the peanuts.
"I have it under control," Bob muttered, passing Bradley's Bronco and heading for his own truck. Anna told him she'd made some bad decisions in her life, and he wanted to know more. Maybe going out tonight would be a way for her to open up to him a little bit. He knew from real life as well as some of the books he read that love could be built on solid friendships, but he tried not to tell himself that something like that could work out for him. Friendship was enough.
"Robert!" Suzanne called from her open front door as he walked up the path. "You're home early."
"Hey, Suzanne. Yeah, got out early today."
"You know what you should do, Robert? You should spend this extra time getting on a dating app."
He paused with his key in the lock of his own front door and listened to the game show that she was watching as the sound filtered outside. "Thanks so much for that amazing idea, Suzanne. Have a great night."
It didn't take him too long to get ready, and while he definitely didn't want to show up at Chippy's with a bouquet of flowers, he came up with another idea. A better idea. And if he could manage to locate Anna's office in the English building, he would meet her there.
---------------------------
Anna had one student show up to her office hours, and even then, it was just so he could complain about how they were only reading 'books by girls' in English 522.
"It's Feminist Literature," she explained slowly. "The main themes and topics revolve around equality of the sexes and advocacy for women's rights. The female point of voice is what we are exploring this semester."
"But why is it all chicks? I don't really like these books."
She sighed and said, "Everything has been on the syllabus since the first lecture, and I haven't deviated from it. If you don't think you can handle it, then I suggest your drop the class."
When he finally left, she groaned and put her head down on her desk. Just a few more minutes, and she could go meet Bob. Bob Floyd. The man who read books by authors of every kind. The man who would probably enjoy sitting in one of her lectures. The man of her dreams.
"Fuck you, Kevin," she whispered before picking her head up and fixing her braid. When there was another knock on her door, she jumped in her seat. "Come in!"
And then there he was, pushing the door open and filling up her tiny office with his broad shoulders and handsome features. Bob smiled at her, and she immediately believed everything would be okay forever. "Hi," she whispered, standing up behind her desk, the large piece of furniture the only thing between them now. "Bob."
Then her eyes dipped down as he held out his hand. "These are for you." He was holding a six pack of ginger ale cans, and it was then that the smell of clean soap and hot tea invaded her senses. "An office warming gift."
"You're sweet," she said softly, and he smiled as she accepted the treat from him. "Thanks."
He just shrugged and looked around the room. "Nice place you got here."
Anna laughed. "You don't have to lie about it. You're tall enough that you could touch that wall with your hand and the opposite wall with your foot at the same time," she said, pointing from one side of the space to the other.
"It's still nice," he told her as he adjusted his glasses. "You must have two hundred books in here. And it smells like a library. And bread?"
She nodded and said, "That's because I'm near the cafeteria. You get used to it."
Bob's laughter and genuine smile had her whole body clenching. "Smells better than jet fuel. You ready to go to Chippy's?"
"Yeah." It came out like a whine. This felt like a date. She wanted it to be a date. She wanted to live in an alternate universe where she could feasibly date someone. As she set her ginger ale cans down and picked up her office key and tote bag, she started to make her way to the door. When she stopped, Bob bumped into her, his hands landing on her waist.
"Sorry," he muttered, and he put some space between their bodies immediately.
"It's okay," she replied, pulling the door closed and locking it. Anna couldn't control the thundering of her heart as they walked side by side down the hallway and stepped outside into the cool, evening air. What was she supposed to talk about with her friend Bob when she just kept thinking about his hands on her body? She cleared her throat as they walked quietly down the sidewalk toward the bar. "Did you wear your jumpsuit at work today?"
Bob's smirk made her giggle. "Flight suit, Anna. For someone who has a bunch of friends in the Navy, you could really use a tutorial. And yes, I did wear my flight suit."
She bit her lip and tried to picture him in it. "I liked your khaki uniform with all the pins on it."
His brow scrunched up as he looked at her, leading the way toward Chippy's. "When did you see my service khakis?"
Oh shit. She'd been staring at the selfie he sent from the bookstore so frequently, she just outed herself. "Um. You sent a picture to me. A while ago."
His features smoothed out as he held the bar door open for her to walk past him. "Right." His voice sounded a little deeper as she passed him. "Forgot about that."
She sure hadn't, and she never ever would. Scrambling for something to say as she walked across the sticky floor littered with peanut shells toward a group of students drinking beers, she blurted out, "I thought all Naval uniforms were navy blue."
When he pulled out a stool for her at a high top table, she took a seat. His voice was close to her ear as he said, "Your tutorial begins now. Can't have you embarrassing yourself like this next time you come to the Hard Deck. You want a beer?"
She wasn't much of a drinker, and the last thing she needed was something that would amplify the way her heart felt like it was beating erratically right now, but she simply nodded. Then Bob disappeared, leaving her really wondering what this tutorial might include. She tracked his movements back toward the bar where an older man with a deep scowl on his face started to reach for two pint glasses. Bob pulled his wallet out of his snug pocket, and Anna was too distracted to realize that he was paying for something for her. Again.
"Damn it," she groaned, realizing how quickly she was slipping tonight. She wanted Bob to explain in great detail everything about the United States Navy while she ate peanuts. She wanted to feed him some and let her fingertips brush his lips. "Stop it." He was returning to the table now, and she watched as two women at another table pointed at him subtly. He was so attractive, and the way he was carrying two full glasses cupped in one big palm left her dizzy.
"Here you go," he said, handing her one of the beers along with a big dish of peanuts. "Best peanuts in San Diego. I swear."
Anna took one and smashed it open as she said, "I'll be the judge of such things." Bob looked really sure of himself as he sat down opposite her, and as soon as she tasted it, she knew he was right. It was roasted to perfection with just the perfect amount of salt. "Oh, god."
"Told you," he replied, reaching into the dish for a few. "But don't tell Penny I said that. I don't want to break her heart."
And that was just thing about Bob. Anna would have believed him if he said he never wanted to break anyone's heart. His fingers brushed against her as they both reached for more peanuts at the same time, but he ended up scooting them a little closer to her.
"There are some that are navy blue," he said, his eyes bright behind his glasses. "Uniforms, that is."
"I knew it!"
"But we hardly ever wear them," he added with a soft smile. "We wear the white ones even less frequently."
"White ones?" Anna asked as she took a sip of her beer, eyes fixed on Bob's fingers as he worked a peanut out of the shell. She could write poetry about his hands, they were just that graceful and strong looking. He was talking, but she could barely keep up with the conversation, and when she set her beer down, it was half empty.
"But that's just when I fly with Phoenix," he was saying. "I've been getting tossed around from pilot to pilot recently, which I hate. But my flight suits are what I wear the most, followed by my khaki uniform."
"It looked nice on you," Anna whispered loudly, surprised that she said it out loud. Again.
"You said that before," Bob replied, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink. Would he feel warm to the touch? Why was it so hot inside Chippy's? Why did Anna agree to come here without the girls?
She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, wishing she wasn't so awkward. "Why did you study aviation? You seem like you'd have been a spectacular English major."
Bob shrugged. "A free ride to the Naval Academy is prestigious enough that you just don't turn that down. Where did you get your PhD?"
Anna hated answering this question, but she'd be honest with Bob. "I started out at Princeton, but it was expensive, and I decided to use my money for... other things. I finished at a state school. A New Jersey state school."
"But you finished," he said with a smile as she gulped down the rest of her beer in one go. "You've got more letters after your name than I do."
Anna laughed, because he wasn't wrong. "But you've got more letters before your name than I do. Lieutenant Floyd."
"No, I don't," he said easily. "Dr. Webber."
"Shit," she croaked, really feeling the beer now. "You're right. That sounds so badass."
"It is badass," he promised as Anna's head swam with warmth and desire and contentment. He cracked open another peanut, slipping it between his parted lips. She leaned in a little closer, and his eyes went wide at what she said.
"Did you download a dating app? I don't think you should. The guys don't know what they're talking about, and you don't really need it. You could get anyone."
Bob studied her as she tried to keep her expression neutral, fingers spinning her empty glass around nervously in front of her. "No," he said slowly. "I didn't download an app. If I'm being honest, I think I'm still hung up on the idea of meeting someone and falling for them naturally. Like accidentally bumping into them in a bookstore." Her mouth went dry as he softly said, "That's kind of what I always wanted."
It was her. She was the one he bumped into before they even knew they had mutual friends. She was that girl from the bookstore. Why couldn't she have this? She wanted it, too! And now he thought she didn't.
"It's okay," he said before finishing off his beer. "We can be friends." He set the glass down, and Anna felt his gaze move from her lips up to her eyes. "You ready to go?"
"Yes," she whispered, slowly reaching for her things. "Thanks for the beer."
Bob shrugged as he helped her down from the stool. "Any excuse to come to Chippy's."
As they walked past the clusters of students on their way toward the door, Anna waved to the bartender. "Does he always look that cranky?"
"Ol' Chippy? Yes. Always."
She made a point to wave a little more vigorously as Bob's hand found her side and guided her outside while she laughed. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a lightweight, and now it's my goal to get him to laugh."
"I have a feeling you'll be working on that mission for a while," Bob said close to her ear. "Are you drunk?"
"No," she whispered. "Just silly."
Bob couldn't seem to help himself as he chuckled and led her along the sidewalk with one hand resting softly between her shoulder blades. "I don't really know what that means yet when it comes to you, Anna. Let me drive you home."
"Okay. It's not far," she replied, trying to imagine what it would be like if Bob ever saw the inside of her tiny apartment as she rattled off her street address. She climbed into his truck with a little bit of help, and then he reached for her seatbelt before pausing and placing it in her hand.
"Buckle up," he told her as she stared down into his face.
"I will," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. "If you promise not to download that app."
His lips twitched into a smile. "You have my word."
Bob walked around the front of his truck before climbing in and starting up the engine. He played with the radio dials while he drove as Anna breathed in her surroundings. Everything smelled good in here where Bob's fresh soap scent seemed to blend with the tang of jet fuel. She had to press her thighs together as she imagined running her nose along the front of his flight suit before he got himself cleaned up after a shift at work.
"Oh no," she whispered as Bob pulled up to a red light a few streets from where she lived. Sky Writing's poetry swirled around in her mind, and she was afraid she might have whispered the words out loud when Bob turned and looked at her in surprise.
"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.
She thought about the words she had memorized once again. Passion pulses through my veins like a wild river. Binding me to you in a dance of fire.
"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, still sitting after the light turned green.
When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"
But Anna had reached her limit with Bob. She released her seatbelt and leaned toward him, feeling more and more sure of herself the closer she got to his mouth. Then she pressed her lips gently to his and whimpered as she kissed him. Bob reached out and ran his graceful fingers along her cheek, and Anna melted into him before he abruptly pulled away.
"Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, voice raspy enough that she was forced to consider that she just kissed him.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob."
--------------------------
I can't decide if that was a mistake or not on Anna's part. But the longing got to be too much for her. She wants him badly. I hope she doesn't go into hiding. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 6
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#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd x oc#robert floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fic#robert floyd#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#covering the classics
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༄ bad habits | suguru geto
synopsis: suguru needs to get rid of his bad habit, and you’re the perfect replacement.
contents: lowercase spelling, mentions of smoking, withdrawals, breeding, unprotected sex, smut.
suguru smoked; that was no surprise. stress is a given, and with stress come bad habits, so why not kill stress with a cig or two?
he started in his senior year of high school, then it got progressively worse through university, now in his last year, he’s contemplating on whether to quit.
exams, job, rent, car payments, flights back home, shit, it was way too much; this habit wasn’t dying anytime soon.
at least that’s what he thought before he saw you coughing up a lung every time he smoked.
shit… that was the last thing he wanted, and the fact you never said a word about it made him even more pissed off.
“i’m gonna quit," he says, putting a pack of cigarettes on the table where you were working.
you look at the cigarettes, then at him with a grin on your face. did you believe it? hell no, it was exam week on a monday night.
“that’s great, hun. get them off the table; it’s unsanitary.” you return to looking at your computer and typing.
sugurus mouth flies open and his eyebrows furrowed, a tiny sting flying through his heart.
wow, you didn’t believe him, and that hurt. he shook his head, a smirk appearing on his mouth.
“you don’t believe me, but i guarantee i’m serious.” he says sliding the cigarette box towards you, his eyebrow raised.
oh shit, maybe he is serious.
you grinned at him, reaching out and tapping on the box and sliding it towards you more. you nodded towards him, tapping on your computer.
“okay go gather all the boxes and cigarettes; we can start from there.” a reassuring smile on your face, making his heart warm.
he nodded, getting up to gather everything. it took a while to gather everything from every crack and crevice.
his arms filled with boxes and little lighters, folding them out as they spill on the table, your mouth open in shock.
“what the hell?" you mutter, closing your computer and sliding it to the side as you try to count out the pile.
after a few minutes, you sigh, sliding down in your seat, suguru eyeing you down as he chews on his nails in anticipation.
“twenty… eight boxes, i mean, what the fuck?” you sigh out, the sight of the boxes making you sick.
he sighs and slightly shakes at all the boxes. he quickly slides out the trash bag from his back pocket, sliding everything in.
“let’s make this quick.” everything sliding in with ease, he ties the bag, dropping it on the floor.
that was three days ago, and he’s now shaking his leg up and down repeatedly as he bites down on his fingers.
he stops biting and slides the rubber band holding his bun, all his hair dropping.
“fuck…” he mutters to himself. this was a bad idea; he needed a fix—just a hit, a tiny puff.
“what are you doing up? don’t you have an exam tomorrow?” you walk into the living room, rubbing your eyes, and your boyfriend bouncing his leg.
his head quickly turns to you as you walk closer to him.
“yeah, i couldn’t sleep.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. he couldn’t do this; it was like a bad itch. he needed to do something.
he looks at your exposed thighs then up your body, the oversized shirt sitting on you.
this.
he pulls your hand, walking you closer towards him. you now in between his legs.
you lift your hand, rubbing down his hair, then lean down, placing a kiss on his head.
a smile sliding onto his face, his hands rubbing the back of your soft thighs and slowly sliding up your ass.
“baby… help me, just this once.” he mutters, dropping his head down. you rub his head more, letting out a hum.
“with what, love?” you mutter back, half asleep still. he clears his dry throat as he slides his hands into your shorts, your bare ass in his hands.
“come closer and i’ll show you.” his voice a little louder, his head lifting back up, and his dark eyes illuminating from the moon shining through the blinds.
you step a little closer, your leg hitting the couch. suguru slides back on the couch, his legs moving out further, and he pats both his thighs.
climbing on top of him, both your knees on opposite sides of him, and your ass resting on his bulge.
oh there it is.
he rubs both your thighs for a couple of seconds before he puts his hand between your thighs, pushing both your shorts and panties to the side.
as he does that, you pull down his sweats and briefs, his length landing on his stomach.
you slide a finger over his tip, pre-cum leaking out a little more. he was eager and hungry.
he straightens up as he slides his hands to your waist, pushing you towards him with your chest in his face.
placing one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder as he positions himself in line with you.
when you feel his tip near your entrance, you slowly slide down, a small sigh sliding past suguru’s lips.
“no foreplay, hm?” your body lifting once it’s all in, then back down, his hands gripping your waist tighter.
you rub his hair as he nuzzles into your chest, your scent entering his nose.
“sorry, i’m just… a little stressed." his hips lifting, his dick pushing into you deeper, a moan sliding out of your mouth.
he takes his hands off your waist and instead wraps his arms around you as he slides out of you, then back in.
there’s nothing but silence as he continues to slide in and out of you. he goes down and then up again, pounding into you.
that time you felt a pleasurable tingle, you slid your hand down his hair, gripping his ends.
“go up again… right there.” you breathe out, his hips pushing back up, and he presses the spot again.
his dick twitching inside you as you lower your hips down a little more.
“that’s not too deep?” he grunts out as you start moving your hips and grinding, hitting that tingly sensation every time.
you shake your head as you lean down, nuzzling your face into his neck, your back arching.
suguru quickly slides out and pounds into you again, holding the position, then doing it again.
your hips moving more frantically as the tingling gets more intense, the grazing of your clit sliding past his stomach.
“a little deeper, baby.” you moan out, his grip around you tightening, you, your breathing getting heavier.
his dick still twitching each time he slides into you; he’s about to cum, and so are you.
“cum with me.” he mutters out into your chest, the vibrations from your voice making you shiver and your walls tighten.
you move your hips more as he presses deeper inside you. there it is.
you kiss his neck, your tongue sliding out over the spot as you suck, your walls clenching around him, and dick dick pulsing even more.
“yes or no.” he moans out, his arms unclenching and his hands sliding to your ass, gripping.
an answer couldn’t be formed as you moan and he releases, filling you to the brim, cum and your fluids dripping out.
spit dripping out of your mouth as you unhook from his neck, deep breaths erupting from both your mouths.
you lift your head up, leaning back and looking at him, his head laid on the back of the couch, eyes closed.
bags under his eyes; he was exhausted; his hands were still gripped on your bottom; you poke his cheek, leaning forward, wrapping your arms around him.
“don’t pass out on me.” you mutter. his hands slide up to your waist, and he wraps his arms around you.
“i’m not; let’s just stay like this.” he mutters, a sigh of relief coming out. he needed this; he might need to keep fucking you to get rid of smoking.
that can’t be so bad, right?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk suguru#x reader#jjk geto#getou suguru x you#suguru geto smut#geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto x you#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto x y/n#getou suguru x y/n
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Helsknight showing up bloody at Welsknight’s base please I need suffering 🙏
There was something to be said about the stupid things he was willing to do in the name of self preservation. Damn his fears, and the unfairness of the universe, and the uncertainty of living [and dying] and everything else. The unknown had always been his greatest weakness, his greatest betrayer. Pity it was also one of the few inescapable things about living in general.
To say Helsknight stepped into Hermitcraft would be a terrible injustice of what stepping normally, let alone gracefully, looked like. What he actually did was stagger and drag himself into Hermitcraft on unsteady and shaking limbs. There were holes in him. He hadn't really taken inventory of them yet. Admitting he had a wound [or several] was enough. The minute he admitted the wounds were bad, in certain terms his mind could comprehend, was the minute shock would steal his senses. He was on Hermitcraft for the specific reason of dodging death, and it seemed to him shock, on any level, meant dying. If he wanted to die and roll the dice of respawn, he would have died in hels, in the alley he'd been jumped in, where he could at least take comfort in familiar cobblestones and the knowledge he'd dragged all his attackers down with him. But he didn't want to die, so he was here.
It was dark. He was inside a building. He was bleeding. Wels was nearby. Those were the only things he needed to know for certain. Helsknight looked around, trying to ignore the sluggish tilt his vision offered when he moved too quickly. The double vision of trying to parse memories of a place that weren't his battled with his wounded animal double vision and together they made him feel nauseous, more so than his wounding already did. Helsknight balled a fist against his sternum, like he could hold himself together that way, and concentrated very hard on walking and nothing else.
Helsknight didn't like being this close to Wels. Not while he was this injured. He could feel the awareness of his other half like a spider on his skin. There was a reflex-like urge to shout and try to shake it off, the instinct-like certainty that if it rested on him long enough it would find a reason to bite him. And he knew, in the way only experience could teach, that if he could feel Wels, Wels could feel him. Helsknight had the sensation of walking a tightrope: his body insisted speed was the only thing that could save him, while his mind insisted he must stay unnoticed. He must balance necessity with making his thoughts and emotions small, and it was hard work to do when he was losing blood.
Helsknight blinked slowly, tiredly. He picked a direction and walked, a hand pressed to the wall, keeping himself upright. Wels's potion room was nearby, a borrowed half-memory informed him, he just had to get there. He searched his drifting thoughts for a poem to repeat in his head, to keep fear and uncertainty from rising. His heartbeat was quickening, a symptom of something; panic, or fear, or blood loss, or all three combined. He was fixing one of those things. He needed to carefully manage the other two, before Wels felt them. The only poem he could think of was in Middle English, and mostly gibberish to him, which told him it came from Wels's memories somewhere.
Why have ye no routhe on my child?
Have routhe on me ful of mourning;
Tak doun o rode my derworth child,
Or prik me o rode with my derling!
[Rhyming child with child was a lazy, but this was written back when one could convincingly spell "down" as "doun" so he supposed he shouldn't be overly critical. The real trick was figuring out if "derling" was supposed to mean "darling", or some other archaic word lost to time. He could only figure out so much from context clues. "Mourning" apparently transcended centuries, and that seemed fitting. Everyone knew mourning, in some form or another.]
An ache opened up beneath his clenched fist, or it had always been there, and his body was only just now reinforcing the fact that it was important. It felt like the mother of all cramps in his muscles, and he stubbornly pretended that's what it was. He needed more potassium in his diet or something, and the gods would forgive him the smear he left on the wall when he leaned on it, waiting on the intensity of his pain to ebb. The doorway he was walking towards seemed close, but also very, very far. Closing distance with it was going a lot slower than he thought it would, and it was only one short hallway. He was glad he'd decided to do this, instead of his other half-considered option of attempting to walk across hels to the Colosseum. He wouldn't have made it.
Dread pooled in his stomach. Dread, and other more physical things, like blood, probably, but he pretended the dread bit was more important. He could feel Wels pricking on his skin again, an insistent spider twitching at a breath on his web. Helsknight breathed out the steadiest breath he could manage.
More pine ne may me ben y-don
Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;
As love me bindëth to my sone,
So let us deyen bothe y-same.
[Sorwe. What medieval idiot thought "sorrow" was spelled like "sorwe"? Maybe it had something to do with inflection. Poetry was half words, half rhythm. Maybe "sorwe" was supposed to indicate they wanted the reader to pronounce "sorrow" as a single syllable, so it sounded more like "sore". That's also probably why "bothe y-same" was sitting there like word vomit. They meant "both the same", but wanted it read without a pause between the first two words. It was really the method for the madness that mattered with poetry.]
Helsknight blinked. He was in the potion room. He couldn't fully remember the walk down the hallway, but that didn't matter. What mattered was there should be health potions in here somewhere, his salvation. Relief edged his vision in stars, and he once again felt Wels's attention cant in his direction, confused and curious. Wels didn't associate feelings of relief with Helsknight. It wasn't an emotion they felt in each other's presence, and it was far too strong to be muffled by the distance to hels.
[He knows I'm here.]
Helsknight opened a chest and rifled through it. His vision was protesting. Stars and tilting that would turn to spinning soon made a clutter of his eyes. It got hard to distinguish the colors of the stoppered bottles. He picked up one that felt overly warm to his cold and shaking fingers. He was pretty sure it was a health potion. It felt too hot, but he reminded himself he was cold from losing blood, so it should feel hot. Hesitantly removed his fist from where it was balled in front of his sternum, and let his eyes unfocus when he grasped the bottle's stopper. His hands were so unsteady, it took a couple tries just to grab it, and when he pulled on the cork, his fingers slipped off weakly. He tried again, eyes closed with concentration, pouring every ounce of his strength into the act of pulling a stopper out of a bottle, only for his hand to slip right off again.
Frustrated, nearing desperate, he looked down at himself for a clean place to wipe his hand on his tunic. It was a mistake. He knew it as soon as he did it. His eyes were inexorably drawn from the fabric to the poke-holes in it, to the wine-dark stain that flowed down his front and still dripped tak-tak-tak slow and inexorable onto the floor. It was a woeful amount of blood. He was honestly surprised he wasn't dead yet. Chalk it up to fortitude, and ignorance, and size. He had more blood to lose than some people did.
Helsknight's world suddenly gave an awful twist, vertigo and the crescendoing, cramping agony of his wounds, only staved off by how his now shattered ignorance, kicking him off his feet just as surely as a horse could. He slumped against the wall, and then to the floor, and the awful jarring of it hurt him worse. Half a dozen other wounds on him aired their grievances, and the big one near his sternum pushed blood onto his fist when he clutched it. Helsknight sat pinned, unable to breathe for many long seconds, feeling a bit like he'd been struck by lightning. The pain was blinding and numbing and overwhelming all at once.
Why-- have no-- have ye no-- something something...
[Words. Breathe. Think of words.]
[Gods... But it hurts......]
Why have ye no routhe on my child?
Have routhe on me ful of mourning;
[And what the hels did "routhe" mean, anyway? He knew the word "route". He knew the name "Ruth". Neither of them fit, unless his bloodless brain was missing something. There was a chance "routhe" was supposed to be read like "bothe", as a double word slurred together, but that still left "routhe the" which made less sense in context than "routhe" did.]
Right. He was supposed to be doing something other than bleeding to death on the floor. Helsknight blinked, looked down at his hand and realized the health potion he'd grabbed was gone. He must have dropped it when he slumped over. Looking around, he spotted it just to the side of his left boot, unbroken, thankfully, but it might as well be a lifetime away for all the good it did him. Helsknight knew without a shadow of a doubt he couldn't reach it. The idea of tensing his muscles and dragging himself forward to reach was exhausting, and he hurt so much he knew the movement would feel like tearing himself in half, and there were just some things a mind couldn't power through. Helsknight laughed dismally and let his head fall onto his chest. Both motions were white hot agonies, but all his pains were starting to blur together into a smear of overwhelming sensation that took thought away. It occurred to him he was breathing too fast, like he'd run too far too fast, and his fluttering heartbeat agreed.
[... It hurts...]
[Gods and saints it hurts.]
[I'm dying.]
A feeling he could only describe as doom fell on his shoulders, a cold grasp of fear that wrapped stony hands around his heart and squeezed. He'd heard of this. Never felt it himself. The utter sureness that if he didn't do something now, he would die. All the unconscious bits in his body in charge of keeping him working all unanimously agreeing they needed divine intervention, preferably right now, before they started shutting down. It wasn't something he often had occasion to feel, though he had heard people tell of it after particularly grizzly matches and bloody tournaments. Death was normally too quick in the Colosseum, or else he'd won his match, and even if he was falling to pieces there was a health potion too close to hand to let him dwell on his harms. This was so terribly different. Death stalked toward him unhurried and unbothered, waiting on him to finish drowning in blood. He might panic, if he wasn't already so cold and scared.
"Ah. This makes some sense, anyway."
Helsknight, who had stopped seeing the world in front of himself without really closing his eyes, refocused his vision on the open doorway. Wels stood there, an angel of death in azure and silver, his sword in his hand. His eyes were the ruthless blue of hels freezing over and lifeless corpses, and Helsknight thought there was no one else in the world he would rather not watch him die. But the universe hated him, so here Wels was, just as surely as if he was fated.
"I didn't think all that fear could possibly be for me."
Helsknight tried to reply, but all he managed was a dying-animal noise that strangled itself out when he tried to breathe a little steadier. He tried again, and this time managed a very weak, but vaguely defiant, "Fuck off."
"Rude," Wels said chastisingly. A glow of something like smug satisfaction prickled Helsknight's skin. The feeling came from Wels. "Especially given I'm the only person who can save you."
Helsknight chuckled, and then stopped when his body seized painfully around the motion. "We both know you don't want to save me."
"No," Wels admitted. "But I don't want to do a lot of unpleasant things I agree to do anyway."
"How... charitable."
"It is a virtue."
"Sure."
Wels didn't move. Well, he did move, but only to sheath his sword. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, the image of patience, as though they had all the time in the world.
[Hungry spider. Waiting on a web for something to struggle.]
"If you're waiting on me to beg," Helsknight informed him through staggering breaths, "I won't."
"Too prideful?"
Helsknight searched himself momentarily for pride, and came up short. Pride would've dictated he die in the alley, instead of here where Wels could lord it over him. This was something different than pride.
"No."
"Then why not?" Wels asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's easy. Just say, 'Welsknight, please give me a health potion'. Or if you're feeling monosyllabic, just 'please' will work."
Helsknight managed a smirk. "Why not help me out of the kindness of your heart?"
"I don't have any kindness for people like you."
[People like you. What a loaded phrase.]
Have ye no routhe on my child?
There was an entire philosophical debate that could happen in the phrase 'people like you' that Helsknight had neither the time or the energy to bother with. Besides, it was all words Wels knew. Wels pretended to be a chivalric knight. Chivalric knights helped the weak. Chivalric knights saved the defenseless. Helsknight, for all the grievances of his existence, was both right now. Then again, the chivalric knights were also supposed to make war against their enemies mercilessly, so he supposed Wels would be in his rights, as a chivalric knight, to walk away and let him die slowly and painfully on the ground.
As if sensing his thoughts, and likely because he could actually sense his thoughts a bit, Wels said, "You are always going on about how I need to be a better knight. There's something ironic here. No matter what I decide, I think you'll owe me an apology regardless."
The feeling of doom, of bone-deep, agonizing dying mantled over Helsknight again and Wels stopped existing to him. His sense of urgency, of desperation to live clawed its way up his throat. He tried to move his arm, his leg. He got his fingers to twitch. He tried to lean forward, to drag himself with willpower alone towards that stupid potion just out of reach. The potion he wasn't even strong enough to open. His vision collapsed in quickly, and he only knew he'd cried out because he was breathless. But he hadn't moved, besides managing to lull his head forward onto his chest again. Cold fear crawled around in his empty guts, a relentless, caged animal that refused to stop squirming.
[I'm dying.]
[Breathe.]
[I'm dying.]
A shadow fell over him, a presence freighted with hate, and deserving, and dissonant guilt. Wels had come forward, only to stop short when Helsknight's terror swept over him like a wave, and he stood baffled by it, and guilty for it. The fool knight probably thought Helsknight was scared of him. If only. Helsknight thought he would prefer that. At least then he could manage to die gracefully. Wels's fortitude bricked itself up against him then, a bitter soul trying to will itself to be cold and cruel, and Helsknight was thankful for it. It staved off his fear, if only a little.
"What did you do to bring this on, anyway?" Wels asked breathlessly, trying to recover his resolve. Looking for a reason to hate him.
"I was... walking home."
"That's it?" He sounded so skeptical, it was almost funny.
"I committed the terrible sin..." Helsknight laughed out a breath, "... of being fearless when I should have been cautious."
"Hubris."
"Habit."
"Yeah right."
"If I got stabbed like this every day, I wouldn't have come crawling here."
Wels glowered, parsing this statement for truth. Helsknight might have mustered some hate in him for it, if he wasn't so scared. His vision had taken on a permanent blur, and he was getting cold. He hadn't gone numb yet, which was something he found profoundly cruel. He wanted to be numb. To stop hurting. To stop fearing.
[Breathe.]
Why have ye no routhe on my child?
Have routhe on me ful of mourning;
Tak doun o rode my derworth child,
Or prik me o rode with my derling!
[Derworth... "Dearworth", probably. Beloved. So "derling" was probably "dearling", which turned into "darling". Middle English was strange. Just slightly to the left of normal. He didn't think "tak" was a word anymore, except where it existed as pieces of words. "Tak" to "take", to take hold, maintain, maybe. "Tak" to "tack" like a nail. "Prik" also, like "pricking" flesh, like a point digging.]
"Hold down the road, my dearworth child," Helsknight muttered. "Or pick me a road with my darling."
"What?"
"Stupid poem."
"How much blood have you lost?"
Helsknight laughed, and his whole body flinched, and for a moment he couldn't breathe because his pain was so alive and electric it almost stopped being pain. The concern from Wels was laughable. He wished Wels would make up his mind about whether or not he cared. Then he could get on with dying, and the terror would stop, and the universe would take him or it wouldn't, and if it didn't, he would respawn and sleep for a week. He felt Wels's hand on his wrist, which was its own kind of hilarious.
"Trying to figure out how many heartbeats I have left?" Helsknight asked.
It would be nice to know. If Wels figured it out, he hoped he would share the information. Then Helsknight could keep count.
"Your heart's too fast."
"That happens."
Wels stood up and paced, all nervous energy, back and forth across the room.
"You don't deserve my help," Wels told him scathingly, angry for how conflicted he felt. "You don't. You've been nothing but cruel ever since we met."
More pine ne may me ben y-don
Than lete me live in sorwe and shame;
["Pine", like pining. Or pain. More pain? Punishment maybe. "Don" to done. Something like: More pain to me could not be done than to let me live in sorrow and shame.]
Helsknight decided whoever wrote this poem had never been stabbed. He'd felt both sorrow and shame, and neither of them packed quite this amount of punch, in his opinion.
"It probably goes against my tenets anyway," Wels continued, still pacing. "And yours too. Aren't you the one who follows some crazy death god?"
"... Saint... of Blood and Steel."
"He probably thinks dying in a puddle on my floor is glorious."
"... they."
As love me bindëth to my sone,
So let us deyen bothe y-same.
[Maybe he was just getting better at this, or maybe this part was just easy. "As love I'm bound to my son, so let us die, both the same." It didn't flow very neatly when it was simpler. Maybe Middle English wasn't that stupid.]
"I can't help but think you did this on purpose to... I don't know. Test me somehow. Prove you're better. Weak again, Welsknight! For helping your enemy when you should have let him die, or speed him along. Don't you know knights are supposed to be cruel?"
Helsknight tried to call up his own tenets, or Wels's tenets, or anything to do with knights and their duties. He got a little lost on his way, his thoughts meandering and dying, and gasping back to life again when they remembered they were supposed to be searching for something. Something he was scared of. Dying. A wave of fear crashing over him that made Wels flinch, and bid Helsknight keep breathing, because any agony was worth not confronting that one, great, crippling unknown.
"What would you do in my place?" Wels asked him suddenly. "Answer me that, perfect knight. What would you do if the person you hated most showed up one day bleeding on your floor?"
That... was an excellent question. Helsknight searched briefly for the answer, and found it wasn't very hard to find.
"I would help."
"You're lying," Wels said guardedly.
"I... can't lie."
"Then you're dodging the truth. What would you do?"
"I would heal you if I could. Or I would kill you if I couldn't." With strength he didn't know he even still had, Helsknight leaned his head back against the wall. It was easier to breathe that way. To talk.
"Why?"
"No creature is deserving of dishonor or pain."
"That's not a tenet."
"It's not a chivalric tenet." Helsknight shrugged one shoulder weakly. "Chivalry states you can hang my guts from the ceiling if I'm your enemy."
"It does not."
"It might as well."
Wels didn't seem to have a ready reply for that.
"What is routhe?"
Wels blinked down at him, guarded and confused. "Routhe?"
"Routhe." Helsknight repeated, as though it were helpful. "Middle English."
"As in?"
"Poetry."
"Use it in a sentence."
"Why have ye no routhe on my child?"
"Ruth." Wels said, a bit too quickly, like he'd known what Helsknight was asking and was trying to avoid the answer. "We don't use it as ruth anymore. It shows up in rue, like regret, or sorrow. And... ruthless."
"Merciless."
"Yes."
Why have you no mercy on my child?
"Why are you asking about Middle English while you're bleeding to death on my floor?"
Helsknight let out a breath. It hurt, but everything did. "Stupid poem."
"Can I hear it?"
"I'm busy bleeding to death on your floor."
"Tell me and I'll heal you."
There it was again, asking for an excuse. That was Wels's real cowardice, his failing as a knight. He was scared of making decisions. Scared of dealing with the consequences of his actions. Paralyzed by indecision. He wanted to hate Helsknight because it was justified. He wanted to watch him suffer, because hatred allows suffering. He didn't want to label himself cruel, nor be accused of weakness, or softheartedness, if he showed mercy. And he didn't want to pick up his sword and kill, if it meant killing someone defenseless. He wanted Helsknight to give him a reason to act, so he could blame it on him later if it turned out wrong. Given it would likely be Helsknight rubbing his nose in it later if it was wrong, he couldn't really blame him for that.
Helsknight closed his eyes and counted his heartbeats, and pretended he wasn't scared.
"Do what you will."
An hour long minute ticked by. Helsknight felt the time moving like it was physical, like he was falling through it and he couldn't catch himself, and he was nearing his limits. He thought the only thing stopping him from begging for it all to stop was the crushing weight of his fatigue, the exponential strength it took to take his next breath, and that stupid poem, skipping in a circle in his head. It kept his thoughts away from his fear, from bearing the weight of the unknown that came next. It was still there, a nameless, formless anxiety that formed the undercurrent of his thoughts. But he didn't have to think about it when he was busy being annoyed about a poem stuck in his head.
Wels moved. He stooped to pick up the potion Helsknight had dropped and unstoppered it deftly. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped him drink, aware that every movement could cause pain. Helsknight could feel Wels's caution in the air like wings, like a bird hovering before it lands. The first potion wasn't enough to heal him completely, so he got a second from his chests and helped him with that as well, one hand hovering over Helsknight's wounds, waiting on the skin to knit back together. Helsknight got to his feet, shaky, and feeling like he'd been wrung dry of all vitality. There was no pain to speak of, but he was thirsty, and hungry, and exhausted.
"You should rest before you go anywhere," Wels said, words of pragmatic care that sounded stilted coming from him. "I can get you some water."
"I'll be fine," Helsknight told him, allowing himself some hesitant pride now that the smothering pain was gone. Even exhausted, he could think so much more clearly now -- think at all, really. And he thought the longer he stayed here, the higher the chance Wels would come to regret his decision to heal him. They were not made to like each other. They didn't even respect each other as enemies. And Helsknight knew if they fought now, he would lose, and he might lose very badly, if Wels decided to leave him to bleed out again. It was something Wels had never done before, but if he could convince himself Helsknight deserved it, he would.
"Do what you will, then," Wels said, bitterness creeping into his tone. He probably thought he was being coy and ironic. Helsknight mostly thought it was annoying.
"The poem isn't mine," Helsknight said. "It's one you've read before. Middle English. Why have ye no routhe on my child. I don't know the title. It might just be the first line. I think it's a lament."
"... I see."
"Next time you find yourself bleeding out on someone's floor," Helsknight snorted, "Pick something stupid like that. It makes things... manageable."
"Right... manageable."
Helsknight gave a helpless sort of shrug, as though what he'd just said were perfectly normal.
Wels mustered an enviable facsimile of concern when he said, "I've never felt terror like that before."
Helsknight felt his already parched mouth somehow go drier. The sympathy he felt rolling off of Welsknight was sickening. Literally. He could feel himself becoming nauseous.
"What are you so scared of?"
Shame, red hot and searing, clawed at the inside of Helsknight's ribs. He wished so badly he could hide it. Distract himself from it. At least turn it into anger. But he was tired, and he didn't know how to bring his emotions back to heel, and Welsknight was already giving him an open, piteous look like maybe they'd stumbled onto something significant. He could feel hope there, like maybe there was a reason they hated each other like they did, and if Wels could figure out where that fear came from, they could find common ground -- or at least the leverage Wels needed to make Helsknight relent.
"I don't need your pity, white knight," Helsknight snarled. "Go sate your savior complex somewhere else."
Wels scowled. A cold wall of loathing, resigned and inevitable, closed itself around anything else he could possibly feel.
[As it should be.]
Hours later, home and safe, Helsknight cracked open his journal and wrote:
Why have you no mercy on my child?
Have mercy on me, so full of mourning;
Take down the road my dearworth child,
O give me a road with my darling!
More pain to me could not be done
Than to let me live in sorrow and shame
As with love I am bound to my son,
So let us die then, both the same.
#Situations Asks#rns asks#anonymous#tw wounds#tw blood#tw dying#tw fear#welsknight#helsknight#[jazzhands] mind the tags she's an intense one!#And also very long#4k words woooo#The poem in Middle English is Why Have Ye No Routhe On My Child#it is supposedly from the 14th century#but i had a very very hard time finding sources for it#so take that with a heavy grain of salt#i will say the middle english -> modern english translation is mine#done using the Chaucer Dictionary from the University of Cambridge#As well as the Oxford Middle English Compendium#take the translation with a grain of salt its one of maybe twice i've done something like this#but i think it stayed decently faithful to the source material#as faithful as someone who sucks at reading Middle English can make a translation anyway#rns ficlet
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It Might As Well Be Worth It For Once [h.c]
Summary: After a photo of you kissing your crush, Hazel Callahan, goes viral among students at your university, you try to navigate the backlash you receive on top of your newfound feelings for her.
Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x College!fem!reader
Contains: reader sort of figuring out her sexuality, homophobia, explicit language, d slur, slut shaming, drinking, partying, violence, no explicit smut just heavy make-outs, scary ex-boyfriends, evil frat bros
word count: 3k
A/N: This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Slut!" so listen if you want to set the mood!
Your first kiss with Hazel Callahan happened at a party, initiated by a simple dare. In the middle of a crowded kitchen, surrounded by sticky solo cups and cigarette smoke, you watched Hazel as she spoke. “Dare.” She stated to her brown-haired friend.
“Okay,” PJ starts and her eyes dart around the room,
“I dare you…” PJ’s eyes find you and she points her finger at your frame “to kiss her.”
“Real original, PJ,” Hazel remarks as she makes her way over to you.
At first, you didn't give it much thought, dismissing it as just a harmless dare amidst the alcohol-fueled chaos of the party. But as you followed through and Hazel's lips met yours, something in you shifted, and every sensation suddenly heightened. The taste of tequila on her tongue mixed with the smell of her sharp cologne made your head dizzy.
The kiss, though quick, left a new feeling that you couldn't forget. You were amazed at how in sync your movements were with each other, considering you barely knew Hazel. You’d seen her a couple of times in class, walking around campus in her stylish outfits, and at parties like these. She was friends with your roommate, Isabel, so she did run in the same social circle as you.
When Hazel eventually pulled away from the kiss, the absence of her touch left you wanting more. You leaned forward, instinctively chasing her lips. Embarrassment washed over you, reality kicking in, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. With the re-realization that it was just a game you were playing, you buried the feelings deep within your stomach, locking them away and deciding they should never be explored.
-
You found Hazel a few weeks later, outside one of the dorm buildings, returning home from another late night. That night, a couple of drinks deep, you summoned the courage to confess what had been consuming your thoughts. Her soft brown hair, her big blue eyes, her attractive scent, and how soft her lips were on yours.
Something felt different about your infatuation with Hazel, and you were dying to just be close to her again.
"I don’t know what it is about you, Hazel," you say, your back leaning against the side of the bricked building. "I’m never like this with anyone," you whisper, avoiding eye contact.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss, and I know that's ridiculous because it was just a stupid dare at a party." Hazel sensed your vulnerability in that moment. She took a step toward you and reached for your hand, gently playing with your fingers, which hung between both of you. As you rambled on, she stared and smiled at you, enjoying your attempt to express your feelings.
"Yeah?" She nodded at you, leaning in a bit closer with a cocky grin. "You liked it that much, huh?"
You avoided her gaze again, clearly growing more embarrassed.
"Well, I was never going to tell you this,” she sucked in a breath “But before the game started, I actually told PJ to dare me to kiss you. It was the only way I thought I was ever going to be able to." Her hand moved from your hand to your waist, squeezing gently, and her eyes landed on your lips. Her confession hung heavy in the air between you both.
Feeling a rush of boldness, you couldn't hold back any longer. You grabbed her by her shirt, slowly pulling her closer, and in a moment of sheer impulsiveness, you pressed your lips firmly against hers.
Your kiss deepened, the pressure between your lips gradually intensifying, the sensation giving you goosebumps. Hazel's lips were plush and inviting, just like you remembered. Her lips left yours for a moment before attaching themselves to your jaw, then your neck, sucking gently.
“Shit, Hazel.” You sighed and your back arched against the wall, already breathless.
Her hand on your waist pulled you closer, the touch gentle yet possessive. Your fingers instinctively wound into her hair, the strands soft and silky beneath your touch.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this since that night,” She says between kisses to your neck. “Want you so bad,” she whines.
Her lips found yours again, the kiss hot and passionate, fueled by the emotions that had been building between you. There was an urgency to the way your lips moved together, and you felt a soft sigh escape Hazel's lips. Your bodies pressed against each other, every inch of skin on fire from the contact.
What you didn’t notice was your ex-boyfriend's roommate, Tyler, emerged out of the dorm building's entrance. He recognized you after a minute and stared at the scene in front of him in complete shock, jaw slack. He pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a camera click. Lost in the intensity of your kiss, neither of you had noticed him. He snickered at his discovery, feeling proud of this piece of information he was now sitting on.
-
In the days that followed, you and Hazel became inseparable, caught up in the intoxication of a budding romance and newfound feelings. Mundane moments were made ten times better just by her presence. You’d been in relationships before, but not like this.
Taking walks hand in hand, you found the quiet corners of your college town, finding comfort in how easy it was to be around each other.
Movie marathons turned into shared glances and stolen kisses, the screen flickering in the background as you explored this new person. Your connection was so intense, it often escalated into heavy makeout sessions in Hazel's dorm, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment.
You were lying in bed, your head resting on Hazel's chest while her arm encircled you. The soft glow from Hazel's laptop illuminated the room, displaying a scene where two characters were kissing in a pool.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you said.
Hazel's hand gently rubbed your shoulder. “Do what, hm?”
“Make out in a pool. It just seems so… liberating.” You shifted in her arms to gaze up at her.
“How is making out while standing in a body of water any different than doing it on land?” She laughed, looking down at you.
“You'll find out when we do it one day,” you said with a smirk. “It’s gonna blow your mind.”
“I don’t know, I think our kisses are already pretty mind-blowing. But I’ll hold you to it,” she replied, her eyes fixed on your lips.
Just then, your phone rang, and it was a call from Isabel. You answered it, still comfortably lazing on Hazel as she absentmindedly stroked your hair.
“Hey Isabel, what's up?”
“I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing…”
“I’m fine, I’m just at Hazel’s, I’ll be back soon though.”
“Have you seen the photo? Of you and Hazel?” She blurts out.
You sit up, your heart beating frantically as you press the phone closer to your ear. Hazel looks at you, her expression shifting from contentment to concern, sensing the change in your demeanor.
"What photo, Isabel?" you ask, your voice tight with worry.
"It's on Instagram," Isabel replies, her tone heavy with concern. "Someone posted a picture of you and Hazel, and the comments… they're awful. Homophobic slurs, slut-shaming… I thought you should know."
A lump forms in your throat, and you glance at Hazel, who grips your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. "I haven't seen it," you admit, your voice shaky. "But thanks for letting me know."
"I reported the comments, but I don't know how long it'll take for them to be taken down," Isabel continues, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't let those ignorant people get to you." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"Thanks, Isabel," you say, your voice quivering. "I appreciate your support. I'll talk to you later, okay?”
"Of course," Isabel replies, her voice softening. "I’ll see you later tonight.”
With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone to see it for yourself.
There it was - the innocent moment captured in a snapshot, now tainted by the cruelty of strangers. As you scrolled through the comments, your heart pounded in your chest, each hateful word striking like a physical blow.
The pain intensified with every comment, echoing the doubts that had been gnawing at the corners of your mind. Hazel peered over your shoulder, her expression a mix of anger and concern.
"Ignore them," she urged, her voice soft yet determined. "They don't know us”
But the words had already burrowed deep within you, festering like a poison. A sense of overwhelming shame washed over you, overpowering Hazel's words. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you grabbed your jacket and phone, your hands trembling as you stuffed it into your pocket.
"I can't stay here," you muttered, your voice strained, your eyes avoiding Hazel's gaze. "I need to get away from all of this."
Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't run out like this," she implored, her voice cracking with emotion.
"I can't stay here," you repeated, your voice cracking as you met Hazel's gaze, filled with self-doubt. "We shouldn't see each other anymore." The words hung heavily between you, an unbearable admission of defeat. You turned away, unable to face the look in Hazel's eyes, and made your way to the door.
"Wait," Hazel pleaded, her voice raw with emotion, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
The door creaked shut behind you, sealing off the warmth and safety of the room you had shared with Hazel. Tears blurred your vision as you hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of your footsteps a haunting reminder of the distance growing between you and her.
-
It had been a month since you left Hazel in her dorm room. A miserable month to say the least. You felt so guilty for hurting her, but were also dealing with the hurt you felt from your privacy being so rudely invaded. Not to mention the straight-up awful comments you both received. But tonight, you were at a party you had reluctantly agreed to go to. Isabel and her girlfriend Josie convinced you that you needed to get out of your head and let loose.
Flamingo pink and aquamarine neon lights cast an ambiance on the frat house walls. The floor was sticky and the speakers were playing a rap song you didn’t know.
“Dude, we’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love and date hot people,” Isabel said, raising her glass to you. “Like, being this young is art. Cheers to that.” Isabel clinks her shot glass to yours. You tip your head back and shoot the tequila, burning your throat as it goes down. You needed any excuse to take a shot right now.
"I’m just going to go get us some more drinks and find Josie, okay?" Isabel gives you a reassuring look, and you nod before she disappears toward the bar. You do your best to make it look like you’re busy without your friend there, opening your phone, turning your brightness down, and scrolling through the calendar and weather app hoping no one can see over your shoulder.
“Well would you look who it is” You hear a familiar, sinister voice come from behind you. Great, it's your ex-boyfriend. Quite literally the last person on planet Earth you want to be standing face to face with right now.
“What could you possibly want right now, Josh.” You say deadpan, genuinely annoyed to be in his presence.
You and Josh had dated for four months. It was your typical college relationship, but there was always something missing, and you couldn't quite figure out what it was. He wanted sex, but you never felt quite ready to do it yet, at least not with him. Four months with no sex for a typical frat guy like Josh was absolute torture for him, so he went looking elsewhere. You ended it when you found him in bed with a brunette from the nursing program.
You can smell his mint gum as he cockily chews it and leans closer to you. “You come here to make out with more dykes, huh? You know, I always thought you were a prude, considering you never gave it up. Turns out your just a horny freak for pussy.”
His words sting. Hot tears brim at the bottom of your lash line. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you’ve never been good at standing up for yourself in these situations.
“Fucking slut.” He spits, even closer to your face than he was a moment ago. He has you cornered against the wall now, your blood boiling with rage and your head spinning with shame.
In the dim light, you see a hand adorned with silver rings firmly grip onto his shoulder. Before he could react, he was yanked backward by the other figure, a swift and forceful movement that left him disoriented. The punch landed sharply, the impact reverberating through his body.
Hazel.
Her eyes met his for a moment, before she turned toward you, leaving him shocked.
Holy shit.
You stare at Hazel, stunned, your gazes locked. Bright, red blood pours from your ex-boyfriend's nose.
“What the fuck?” His hands fly up to his face. “Is this your little girlfriend?” He laughs humourlessly, pointing to Hazel. “Real fucking cute. Yeah, you’re dead’ He says as he launches toward her, only to be pulled back by another group of arms, Isabel and Josie.
“Guys! Go! We’ll take care of him”
Hazel wastes no time and grabs your hand, her fingers entwining with yours in a reassuring grip. You run alongside her, the thumping music fading as you descend the stairs and navigate the chaotic kitchen of the large frat house. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation fueling your steps.
You don’t know if it's the slight buzz from earlier or the intoxicating lovesickness for the girl in front of you that continues to propel your feet forward, but you decide to just go with it. Hazel leads you through the crowd, weaving in between sweaty bodies and flashing lights.
As you step into the backyard, the cool night air hits your skin, and the scene before you unfolds like something out of a movie. A huge moonlit swimming pool stretches out, its surface rippling with the movements of people swimming in their underwear, their laughter and splashes filling the air. Realization strikes you, and you know exactly what Hazel is about to do.
With an impish grin, she turns to you, "Ready?" she asks, her voice drowned out by the music but clear in your ears. She hovers her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, please” she whispers.
You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline, and without another word, Hazel tugs you toward the edge of the pool.
With a shared glance, you leap into the water together, the cool embrace of the pool enveloping you. As you resurface, you find Hazel's eyes, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the pool. She looks so perfect like this, you almost forgot how stupidly into her you were.
“You look really pretty” She finally says.
“Hazel, I’m so sorry. That was so fucked up leaving you in your room like that.”
“I tried to call you,” she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“I know, I was too much of a coward to face you, I always bury everything that makes me uncomfortable and avoid it forever. It's unfair, you need someone who can confront those issues head-on, right away.”
“What if all I need is you?” she murmurs, her words hanging in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope.
“Hazel…”
Your heart swells at her comment, you wanted nothing more than to hear those words come from her mouth, but your guilt makes you hesitant.
She reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer through the water, her touch reassuring. Her hands gently encircle your waist, you instinctively raise yours to rest around her neck. It feels like magnets snapping back into place,
"I don’t want to hide anymore. I don't want to be the one who runs away from difficult conversations. I want to be the one who faces challenges with you, who stands by your side no matter what." you say.
Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small smile, her grip on your back tightening. "I believe you," she says. Her voice is filled with trust.
"I mean it, Hazel," you continue, your voice steady.
She lifts your legs in both of her hands, effortlessly supporting you as you wrap them around her body beneath the water. The sensation is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and connection. Suspended in the water, your eyes meet hers, and in that moment, there's a shared understanding that goes beyond words.
Your foreheads meet each other, resting gently against one another, and your breathing hitches in anticipation as Hazel speaks. “So, are we still on for that mind blowing pool kiss?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
A mischievous smile curves your lips in response. "Well, if they’re gonna call me a slut," you say, your voice low and sultry, "it might as well be worth it for once. I say we give them a show."
With unspoken agreement, you close the distance between your lips, capturing Hazel's mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that exists is the electricity between you, the taste of her lips, and the water around your bodies.
You feel hopeful for the future, for where this could go. For where your heart might lead you. As you both pull away, breathless and smiling, you exchange a knowing glance, understanding that something has shifted between you, and you were exactly where you were meant to be.
-
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
a/n: thanks so much for reading !! this is my second fic ever so again pls forgive me if there are any mistakes. I definitely want to write more for hazel though so I am so open to requests if you ever want to send one <3333
#hazel callahan#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan x reader#hazel bottoms#bottoms 2023#ruby cruz#hazel callahan fanfic#sapphic#wlw#hazel callahan imagine#Spotify
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Familar Stranger
DP x DC au with a dash of dimensional travel where Danny, due to his ghostly nature, looks slightly different depending on how others perceive him.
Warning: OP has no knowledge of space other than Google and is also a non-native English speaker; proceed with caution.
Same startup kits; Danny becomes the successor to the Infinity Realm (he's a baby by both ghost and human standards, so there's a temporary council for now). Anyway, he still has some power over the ghosts, so he asks them to lessen the amount of fighting to focus on schoolwork and "princely education."
Now here's where my brainrot begins.
The Lazarus Pits, necromantic rituals, or portals of any kind that have "death" or "soul" in them tend to be connected to the Ghost Zone. However, the zone has its own defensive mechanism, so unless someone *Fentons* actively makes a gateway or has "experienced" death, it's nearly impossible to come upon the zone. A certain furry bridage in Gotham has unknowingly ticked all the checkboxes.
During a misson, one of the bats got caught in a magic situation and got transported to the Infinity Realms. They wandered around, dogding ghosts, slowly getting insane from all these damn corridors and living paintings, before they stumbled upon a seemingly random door (CW is involved; he's having a great time testing the poor bat).
Opening the door leads them to the universe. They closed the door, then opened it again. Yep, that's an entire universe complete with its own planetary systems and, oh, so pretty stars growing and dying in a blink of an eye. Another check around shows them that this is the only door so far in the endlessly long hallway. They look down (if there's even a down, for there's only infinity) and take an experimental step. The Milky Way lit up under their feet, with stars gathering around to form a twisting path to nowhere.
For the next couple of hours, days, or minutes, they made their way through the galaxies. Just when they were about to spiral into a midlife crisis, they heard... humming?
Did they finally lose it? They asked themselves before noticing a glowing figure sitting on an asteroid nearby.
"Hello?"
The figure flinched, and life paused. The blackhole by their left stopped spinning, the stars weren't twinkling, and the figure turned their head. Now it's their blood that runs cold.
"You're not supposed to be here."
Lazarus-colored orbs stared back at them with a familiar face but an unfamiliar voice. Damian tilted his head, looking at them in confusion (there's something wrong, wrong, wrong-). They blinked because, what the hell, seeing something other than a scowl on the boy's face is WeirdTM. Suddenly, that's a teenaged Jason staring at them, much closer than he(?) was before.
At this point, they realized— eyes moving over the entire regalia and the glowing crown that just appeared—they're probably in deep sh*t.
#dc#dcu#danny fenton#danny phantom#batfam#dp#dpxdc#dcx#dc x dp prompt#uncannydanny#got inspired by Bian Lian (Face-changing)#haha poor bat member#danny is just freaked and worried#cause this is his special space how did someone get in#initial worries is over now come the panik: oh Ancients a human in the Ghost Zone#dw danny takes them back to the living world#which is in another dimension btw wow how did you get so far#danny: alright dude *smile* pls dont come back i wont be able to help you a second time#batmember: *getting hives from seeing damian's face smiling so bright*#bat member: you look just like my brother#danny: haha imagine that#danny is the term people see what they want#and bats are black haired blue eyed coded#my post#my prompts#diabolichare
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Pinky Promise 3
Part 1
Part 2
Word count: 2K
Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader
A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!
The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.
Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”
It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.
“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.
“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”
He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”
You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”
This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.
Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.
“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.
“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.
“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”
Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”
You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”
Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”
Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”
It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.
You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.
The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”
You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”
“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”
It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”
“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.
“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.
When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.
“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.
“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.
“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”
And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.
After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.
“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.
“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.
“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”
Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.
It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.
But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.
“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.
“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.
“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.
You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.
“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.
“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.
“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.
“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.
“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.
“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”
He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”
You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”
He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”
“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”
Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.
“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”
You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”
Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”
Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”
You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers
#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#topgun maverick#jake seresin x you#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#hangman top gun#chelsea writes
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I Don't Deserve You | Kang Hyewon
1190 Words
***
University on a Saturday, it was supposed to be the fun day. Activities, football matches and going to the pub with mates for watch the games broadcasted on TV. However, not for you, not this week at least. You can't do anything because you injured your knee. All you can do today was just stay home and sit in bed for the whole day by yourself.
It all happened because of an injury, you sprained your knee last week in a football game, damaging your ACL and ultimately causing you to miss the game today. The final game of the calendar year. You wanted to end your year on a high, but it looks like you were going to end the year on the bed, doing nothing.
With all finals being over and one more week on classes left, everyone on campus was enjoying themselves. Going to the pub, celebrating with mates, doing fun stuff with people they know and fraternities are advertising their fun parties they have this weekend. However, you can't do any of these because the doctor told you to avoid any form of activities that will put stress on your knee for at least a month, meaning your life was pretty much meaningless.
Despite this, your girlfriend of two years was being pretty supportive to you. Of course she was, she was part of the university cheerleading team so naturally she was going to be cheerful. She was always your cheerleader, cheering you on when you were on the pitch, going through every highs and lows with you, by your side and making every lows of life better for you.
Kang Hyewon was really the perfect girl, not just for you but for the university as well. She was popular, pretty and also head of the cheerleading sorority. Every guy wanted to date her but there was only one lucky guy who can call himself her boyfriend and that guy was you.
Even now, when you were out injured, Kang Hyewon told you that everything was going to be alright, making sure you feel better. She knows that there was only two loves in your life. Football and Kang Hyewon. However, despite Kang Hyewon thinking she has made you feel better about not being able to play the last game of the calendar year, it was still you having to stay home alone today because she had to go to the game with other cheerleaders to cheer on the university football team.
It was not a good thing being alone at this state, you started to think. Thinking about a lot of stuff. Thinking about what would happen in the game before moving on to thinking about deeper stuff. Starting off with thinking about what would happen if your knee never recovers or if the situation with your knee gets even worse, before finally thinking about your relationship with Kang Hyewon.
Kang Hyewon, like you said, was one of the most popular and prettiest girl in the campus. The head cheerleader status she got a few months ago only made her more popular and more wanted around the campus.
With that you started thinking if you really deserved her?
You only started with her from a friends with benefits relationship when you both entered university, but slowly became in love with each other. However, the romance have been dying lately. The two of you have been feeling comfortable with each other, living together has seemed to kill the romance and you two have stopped going on romantic dates for a while now.
Plus watching her simps around her and people trying to hit on her didn't help with this situation.
You thought about it long and hard, you really didn't deserve her. She deserved someone better, someone more romantic and someone who actually can give her the love that she deserves. What she doesn't deserve was someone like you, a guy who is nothing without football, a guy who isn't romantic at all. She deserves love and you just can't give her the love that she deserves.
As much as you loved her and wanted to be with her, you just know that you can't give her what she deserved, there are a lot of other guys out there in the university who are willing to give her what she deserved. All the guys who you have saw hit on her was right, she deserve someone better, someone who isn't you.
As much as you hate to do this, you feel like something has to be done to rectify this situation. You needed to do something you didn't want to do.
Whilst you were deep in thought, deciding what you were going to do, the door open and your girlfriend Kang Hyewon walk through the door.
"Hey, I'm back. How's your day" Kang Hyewon asked as she walked through the door to see you sat on the sofa with the remote control in your hand and the TV on SkySports Main Event.
"So no change for you then" Kang Hyewon sat next to you as she took the remote control out of your hand.
You snapped back into life as Hyewon took the remote control out of your hand, you were so deep in thought that you didn't even saw her come sit next to you.
"How's your day been" Hyewon asked you again.
You just hugged her tightly which surprised Hyewon a little bit but she hugged you back not knowing what has gone through your mind.
"Hyewon, I don't deserve you" you said whilst hugging her tightly "I really don't"
Hyewon was surprised to hear what you just said. She didn't know what was going on, she has heard people tell her that she deserved better, but she never thought you would think that way as well.
"What are you saying" Hyewon said pulling out of the hug, surprised at what she just heard.
"You deserve better, not someone a weirdo like me who just sits around all day watching football" you responded.
"But I don't want better, I want you. I know people have been saying I can date better guys than you, but they don't give me what you give me. I feel safe around you. Sure, you do eye other girls up and prioritise football over me, but you're a good guy deep down" Hyewon responded.
"No I'm serious, you deserve to be in a relationship with someone who's more romantic than me" you stated, making your point very clear
At that moment, Hyewon kissed you on the lips.
"If I really think I deserved someone better, then I would have left you. We've been together two years already and even when we broke up a year ago, we got back together. Sometimes, love is not always about the romantic stuff, it's about being comfortable and feeling safe. You give me that sense of safety and comfort which is something that nobody else can give me" Hyewon said making you feel better.
The two of you shared another kiss, this time more passionate.
"You know, there is one romantic thing you are really good at, why don't we do that" Hyewon said as she broke the kiss looking deep into your eyes with lust.
#kpop fanfiction#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpopfanfic#kpop idols#kpop fluff#izone#izone hyewon#kang hyewon#hyewon
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