#short haired anime girl of the day

[magicalgirloftheday]

✧・ﾟ:*Today’s magical girl of the night is: Dreamland from The Caster Chronicles!✧・ﾟ:*

#Dreamland #The Caster Chronicles #card game #purple hair #short hair #animal ears #book #magical girl #magical girl of the day #mahou shoujo

[chihiro20]

君に振り向いてほしい。

#Anime art #Illustration #girl #uniform #high-school girl #heartbreak #valentine #valentine's day #short hair #hairpin

[queerbluefae]

Any other queer-but-doesnt-know-it-yet babies avoid queer-themed media around their parents and friends like the plague?? The amnt of times I said I didn't want to watch something with mum during our movie nights bc I'd heard it had even just an inkling of queer smh. She wasnt even homophobic that I knew of I just couldn't bare it. Just the thought of her reaction felt like I was being stripped bare for all the world to see.

#we watched anime together a lot #and I actively refused to watch certain things #bc I'd heard it had a queer element #(I was often wrong bc I didnt understand the difference between the media and fanart lol) #so missed out on a lot in those early days #but then as a teen I watched more and more anime alone #Gravitation was my first Gay anime #or was it Kyou Kara Maoh?? #which i watched w mum! #the horror I felt #wanted to curl into a ball and die #i dont think mum even noticed it #the gay scenes i mean #bc they were played for laughs and not a main plotpoint #Gravitation on the other hand...... #i told mum the pink haired boy was just a girl w short hair lmao #she wasnt even homophobic #but all I knew abt being queer was that u got bullied #girls schools r rough 😮‍💨 #so ofc I thought that would be everyones reaction #and mum did have some...misconceptions.... #which we have worked through #so it wasnt completely misplaced fear #I also didnt understand why I liked it bc surely since I likef boys i couldnt like girls too?! #then I heard the term bisexuality and a light bulb went off #ding ding ding YOU r gay #well queer bc all the other labels dont really fit #anyway yeah....anyone else? #my rambles #queer

[unpretty]

a fact about me is that i was an early bloomer who hit puberty in elementary school and was immediately, obnoxiously horny in ways that were uncomfortable for everyone because no one is prepared for an elementary schooler with b cups and a deep fascination with movies where people get tied up. another fact is that because i was considered smart for my age in the ways that mattered, i just accepted all this as a single package, the many ways that i was not really a child the way other children were children but was instead a miniature adult. i was technically a child, but not really, as far as i was concerned. it also did not occur to me until around high school that i was fat, because i instead considered myself to be sturdy, to be buff, to be built like a tank.

so somewhere around middle school i am noticing the ways in which i am Not Like Other Girls, the ways in which i am not what society says a girl is and the ways that things marketed to girls do not appeal to me. i don't know how other girls dealt with this, but i very rationally decided that i was only technically a girl, in the way that i was only technically a child. so i looked at the things that did appeal to me, and that i did enjoy, and reverse engineered my demographic to decide that on a practical and functional level i was a middle-aged man. i had also gotten really hornily into wolverine because of the first x-men movie, and ended up reading a lot of comics, so as you can imagine the comic book version of wolverine who is short and built like a tank and older than he looks despite being for all intents and purposes a middle aged man really had some appeal to me.

there are idiots who say shit about how tomboys would be considered trans these days or whatever, but i can assure you that was not what was happening here. by middle school i already had to special order bras and i was fine with that because of the many weird fetishes i was developing, none of which can be blamed on the internet because i hadn't found that shit yet and also to this day you would have a hard time finding anything similar to the things i wrote in my secret notebook and immediately destroyed. the fact that i was technically a girl was vital to all this. media where there was a big reveal that some cool dude had been a hot chick the whole time was my shit. weird feral beast people who turned out to be hot women once they took a bath? fuck yes. i would never have cut my hair because that would have ruined my chances to take off a helmet and reveal that i had girl hair. at no point did i think i was anything but a girl, it was just that i was functionally a middle-aged man, who was a girl.

what this means is that i still liked all the things i already liked, such as leather jackets and comic books and anime and old stand-up comedy, but i also did extensive research on the other things i felt i should like according to the demographic i had assigned myself. i watched vh1's 'i love the 70s' with the air of someone trying to hide their amnesia, even though my parents were children in the 70s. i got into the beatles. i tried to get into cars for a while before accepting that i only liked the vintage car aesthetic and couldn't be fucked to know actual car facts. i wore nothing but cargo shorts and aloha shirts for a while, which didn't really stand out that much because it was middle school. i bought a fedora and became a libertarian atheist. i made plans to buy a motorcycle (i could not ride a bike).

i gave up on it after a while because quite frankly my titty situation meant there was never really going to be a big reveal that i'd been a girl the whole time. it was pretty obvious even with the cargo shorts. also the older of a teen i was, the more likely it felt that i could maybe get laid, except i could tell that was never going to happen as long as i kept wearing cargo shorts. it took longer to give up the fedora because it was leather and i wore it with my leather jacket and fingerless gloves, which i convinced myself worked a lot better after i'd gone full high school goth. i lived in the desert so you can imagine how well that worked out for me, smell-wise.

anyway that's how my female socialization went, i don't think it was particularly successful tbqh

#original #the funniest part to me is the vh1 thing #i watched so much vh1 while inexplicably behaving as if i was already familiar with everything i was seeing

[mercur1e]

Just some headcanons about big, tough Simon Riley as a girl dad💗💗💗

Girl dad! Simon on the day his daughter was born, he promised her that he would protect her with every bone in his body. He was scared he would be like his father, but once he saw her little face he crumbled.

Girl dad! Simon who’ll let his daughter put clips and bows in his short blond hair, and lets her put sparkly unicorn lipgloss on his lips without a fuss.

Girl dad! Simon who has tea parties with his daughter, and stifles a chuckle when she gets into arguments with her stuffed animal “guests”.

Girl dad! Simon who cheers for his daughter louder than anyone else at her sports matches. All you hear is a booming “That’s my girl!” from the stands.

Girl dad! Simon who knows every single princess song, and can’t believe it when he starts to sing them on his own time at work.

Girl dad! Simon who tries to make your daughter heart shaped pancakes and fails, but she eats them nonetheless.

Girl dad! Simon who holds back tears when his daughter graduates from kindergarten, he can’t believe she’s getting so big!

Girl dad! Simon who reads his baby girl bedtime stories and matches the voice to the character.

Girl dad! Simon who play fights his daughter at lets her win every time.

Girl dad! Simon who matches halloween costumes with his daughter. Just imagine a big, scary, tattooed man in a fairy costume to match his daughter!

Girl dad! Simon who lets his daughter pick out his watch for work, and in turn he picks out her socks!

Girl dad! Simon who lets his daughter color in his tattoos and lets her put sparkly make up on him.

Girl dad! Simon who would move heaven and earth just to see his daughter smile. 💗

Note: I was in a fluffy mood and I love the thought of tough guys being big softies for their daughters 😭😭 It heals my soul fr!!!

#cod x reader #cod x black reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #cod mw2 #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fluff

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! First meeting their S/O

Slashers! x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence

Michael Myers

It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house

A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night

Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall

“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”

“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”

“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”

Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache

Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim

Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume

You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin

He wanted, no, needed to kill you

Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his

“You know what would be so funny-“

The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers

Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact

His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl

There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend

But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it

Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs

“I’m, sorry for breaking in”

Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move

His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor

As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion

If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?

He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely

Jason Voorhees

Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by

There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather

That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts

Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone

“Oh my god”

Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences

Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching

“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”

Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire

Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world

“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”

You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind

Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure

But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget

Thomas Hewitt

Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone

Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out

Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go

That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun

That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door

Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck

“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”

Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in

“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”

Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so

Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys

You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone

Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall

Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder

Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him

“Thank you”

Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his

“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”

Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire

Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster

“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”

You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you

“You’re not worried are you?”

Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no

“He seems very reliable”

You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so

Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man

Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help

Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor

“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”

Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before

Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face

The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin

You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet

Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye

Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed

“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”

Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway

Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you

Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room

Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until

“Is that man from before gone?”

You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did

“Good, he scares me”

He merely nodded, unsure of how to act

“Is he going to come back?”

Vincent shrugged

Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you

“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”

Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!

^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months

#slasher #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #michael myers #slasher x reader #jason voorhees #slashers x reader insert #slashers x gn reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #thomas hewitt x reader #jason voorhees x reader #Jason Voorhees fanfic #michael myers x reader #Michael Myers fanfic #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair fanfic

[moon7jay]

Forced To Take Him (PART 2)

🫴Read Part 1 here

Warnings : stepcest, mentions of the word rape, manipulation, non con, dub con, spit play? Ig that's all idk

Note : IT'S NON CONSENSUAL, consider it dead dove do not eat. and if u chose to read even after all the warnings, I'm not responsible.

"f-fuck take it like a good girl, take it all baby shit-" his voice cuts off in a whine when he feels you gag around his length, your throat feels raw and abused and you aren't sure if you'll be able to talk once this is over. He's so rough with his animalistic thrusts in your mouth, his palms planted firmly at the back of your head, fucking into your throat like it's a cunt. A wet, messy cunt for the purpose of getting fucked.

His eyes are on yours, his lust filled expression making bile rise in your throat. But at the same time there's a tingling in between your legs, your body working against you

"fuck u like this, u like this don't you, u little sexy slut" he pants, smiling down at you sinisterly, his tongue comes out to lick on his plump lower lip, his brows furrow as he once again gets lost in the pleasure of your throat

There's saliva leaking out of your mouth, drool mixed with his precum, you can taste it . Taste how messy all this is gonna get.

"fuck u, fuck u for making me like this ughmmmm- drive me crazy, wanna fuck all the time oh yeahmmmhm" he moans loudly. Fear strikes your heart, acutely aware that your sister is just a little distance away, watching TV on the couch and a single kitchen counter is what hides your body from her vision. If she were to look over, she would only see sunghoon and not how he's busy using your throat mercilessly.

But sunghoon doesn't care. Ever since the first day he raped you, he had only gotten braver, more worry free and fearless.

He started fucking you more frequently. almost anywhere he felt like he would pull your shorts down and bury is cock in your snatch in a single thrust, pounding like an animal.

He would come into your room at nights, whispering filthy promises in your ear while his hips snapped into your womb with the intention to breed.

He had also stopped giving your sister the sleeping pills, and you could feel it in your heart that he wasn't scared of your sister catching u anymore. and your fear became reality when during one night of brutal fucking, his fingers dug into your jiggling fleshy thighs and he groaned into your ears the words which made your insides turn cold.

"wanna tie your sister up right beside ur bed and make her watch how I rape you baby- his teeth dug into ur cheeks as u sobbed - wanna make her see what real fucking looks like. THIS. This is what fucking is all about. Tight fucking pussy god fuck"

A sharp thrust inside your throat made you come back to the present, he held your head in place, going deeper and lodging his dick further inside your fluttering throat. Your nose meshed up against his pubic hairs, his groans getting louder

"fuck yeah" he laughed, at the height of his insanity, snapping his hips again, making u choke on this thick length, gagging sounds like music to his ears

"look so pretty like this, gonna fuck u right on this kitchen floor baby, gonna make u scream so your sister knows exactly how u drool around my dick in ur pussy like a filthy little -Fuckughhh- little slut"

Your finger nails dug in his thighs, your oxygen supply getting cut off due to his rough movements but u could feel that he was close, his taste getting stronger on your tongue

"fuck fuck fuck squeeze my balls, make me fucking cum , wanna cum so much, fuck-yeahh" he thrust rapidly at an animalistic pace, his head thrown back in pleasure as you played with his balls just like he asked for. You had learned how to obey, having seen how bad things could get when he was angry.

"swallow-holy fuck-take it all you fucking whore, take my seed" he groaned from above you, snapping his hips deep into your throat and holding your head against his pubes, cumming inside your mouth, his taste flooding up your senses. you swallowed instantly, afraid of disappointing him, squeezing his balls more to drain him of every last drop of his fuck cream, making him curse

He pulled his dick out of your drooling mouth with a pop. Before you could catch a breath he was dropping down on his knees and burying his tongue in your mouth.

one thing your sister's boyfriend loved more than fucking u was tongue fucking your mouth. you don't know what his obsession was with your tongue but he loved sucking on it while he made u suck on his own tongue. Just plain messy, open mouthed kisses, making out with your tongue for hours.

His wet muscle tangled with yours, licking into your mouth with vigor, wanting to catch any after taste of his cum that u just swallowed. His hands grabbed you by ur thighs and the next thing you know he was dragging them from under your body so that your sitting form fell down on the kitchen floor, your head hitting a little hard at the wood but sunghoon didn't care. He never cared if you got hurt.

He was instantly pulling back, tearing your panties apart, pocketing the shredded fabric to jerk off with later and he was burying his cock inside, breaching your entrance in one harsh penetrative thrust. A gasp escaped your throat while he groaned in pleasure and satisfaction. Finally being wrapped in your wet pussy folds.

Your pussy was sore from how rough he had taken u in the morning and he was so big, you felt an excruciating pain at your entrance, tears rolling down your eyes involuntarily. He started snapping his hips into yours without waiting for you to adjust, gasping in pleasure, folding your body in half, grinding your sexes together

"does it hurt? fucking tell me that it hurts-fuck"

It did. but u didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting off to your pain. You knew he was a sick bastard who got off when u were hurting. Your tears turned him on.

"so so fucking wet, sucking my dick in your tight little fuck hole, I bet u want that fuck cream inside you so bad huh baby?" he spat upon feeling your nails dig into his neck, your pussy was so wet, your body's natural reaction making you cry more. Maybe it was your fault, maybe u did want this. Maybe he was right.

"Feels so good baby, cunt milking me so fucking good yeahmmugh jesus fuck"

his thrusts became rapid, carnal lust taking over his body, going deeper, harder. You closed your eyes to avoid seeing how much pleasure he was getting from using your body like this. The cold kitchen floor digging into your back, making you more aware of what was happening to you. You were crying and screaming in full force now, unable to hide how much pain he was putting you through, but also unable to hide how much pleasure he was giving you. Your hips were chasing his own, your lower region getting hotter and hotter, you could feel your high approaching. Please God no, no, you can't cum on this monster's cock.

He laughed when he felt your pussy clench around his dick

"fuck yeah u want this, u wanna fuck with me, u wanna breed with me, come on, let's cum together yeah? let's fuck some more" He panted, his eyes shining in a sick want, you tried to look away but his hand held your face in place, fingers digging into ur cheeks, his gaze fucking into your soul, his pleasure filled expression making the knot in your belly snap, your eyes rolling back at the same time his eyes rolled back, your cum mixing with his pearly white seed flooding inside your womb, profanities and "fuck yeah" s falling from his mouth, his teeth digging into your cheek, hips fucking into u relentlessly, intensifying the squelching sounds your grinding sexses were making.

You tried pushing him away, his thrusts now making your insides hurt but he didn't stop, panting like an animal, wrapping your legs around his waist while he resumed his thrusts, his dick still hard inside of you. Hot and hard and so cruel.

His fingers dug into your waist, his tongue coming out to lick your neck, upto your chin to your nose, sliding sideways to dip inside your ear making you whine in overstimulation.

"t-too much" u gasped out, your nails scratching his back in hopes that he would slow down, the pain mixed with pleasure starting to get to your head.

"yeah? good, gonna fuck a baby into u baby, gonna fuck ur warm little cunt till u start bleeding" he whispered, intruding your mouth with his tongue, his hips getting harsher, his dick head hitting your cervix head on, even going past it at some point with how much it hurt.

You were starting to lose your vision, so lost in the overwhelming feelings to take note of how eerily quiet the house had become. How the skin slapping sounds and your groans and moans were all that could be heard now. You could not hear the TV anymore.

Your head lolled to the side and your eyes met your sister's. Relief washed over you. She was here to save u, she was finally gonna save you, u were gonna be free, you were-

"she isn't gonna stop me sweetheart, she's gonna watch us fuck like the pervert that she is, she's gonna watch me rape your tight little cunt" sunghoon whispered in your ear and something ugly reared it's head inside your chest. You were begging with your eyes. He was wrong, wasn't he? But why was she not stopping him? Why wasn't she saying something??

your eyes travelled down and a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your sister's hand was buried inside her shorts while she watched how sunghoon fucked u. He was panting and groaning like a wounded animal, his spit flying everywhere as his thrusts became sloppier, your heart felt numb and so did your mind. You could not comprehend the scene that was playing out in front of you. your sister's excited eyes were fixated on your and sunghoon's grinding bodies, how u writhed under him, how he was shaking in pleasure. Her hand's movements inside her shorts getting faster in tune with sunghoon's thrusts

That look. You knew that look. You had seen that look countless times throughout your childhood but u were a naive little girl who didn't know any better.

You were 13 when your mom had married lana's dad. It had been a happy marriage, never once did u feel unaccepted or unwanted by your step sister, she always kept u close to her, always took u with her when she went to play, always shared her toys with you.

But there were more things she liked to share with u. like kisses.

You were innocent, never understanding the meaning behind her lingering touches and kisses. You both were just kids after all. And even though it felt uncomfortable at times, you didn't want to ruin ur relationship with your new sister. You wanted to be good. And siblings kissed all the time didn't they? it was just a way to express affection to each other

But as time went by, her affection towards u became unhinged. She was overprotective over u in an almost obsessive way.

U didn't notice it at that time, u never did. U never noticed how she would insist on sharing clothes and baths and how excited she would become when u let her borrow your lip balm. or how angry she became the first time u mentioned a crush.

How one day u came home crying to her because everyone in school was talking about how ur mother was a whore and u also carried some STDs, unaware of the fact that lana was the one who started those rumors, an effort to keep u isolated and dependent on her.

at your 17th birthday, your sister bought u a dress matching with hers and even tho u insisted that u didn't want to change in front of her, she made u eventually

"We're both girls y/n, I change in front of you all the time, why can't u?"

and so u did. Missing the way your sister's breath became heavy with each article of clothing that u took off.

At first she used to watch, just watch. until you both were well into adulthood. Turning 19, she eventually started touching.

"You're so beautiful y/n" she whispered while caressing your naked waist. You smiled awkwardly, putting ur top on instantly, feeling uneasy at the look lana was giving you. But u brushed it off, u shouldn't have.

u brushed off a lot of things, like when your sister took u to clubbing one night and as the crowd increased on the dance floor, you could feel her body press closer to yours, her hips subtly rubbing against u.

or how when u leaned closer to whisper in her ear that you were getting out to get some fresh air, your sister buried her nose into your hairs, inhaling your scent unbeknownst to ur naive self.

You had been your sister's deepest obsession ever since you walked into her life years ago. But u were too blind to see that.

"so close gonna cum so much for u, gonna fucking breed u full holy shit, you're gonna make me cum so hard baby " sunghoon's groans reached a fever pitch, the squelching sounds of your groins meeting filling up the kitchen, you couldn't take your eyes off of lana or how her eyes rolled back in pleasure when sunghoon moaned his impending orgasm

"yeah yeah fuck yeah feels so good, god fucking godughh " He panted, flooding your womb with his cum, your second orgasm washing over u as u watched your step sister bite her lower lip and cum all over her fingers. Sunghoon's cock helping u ride urs and his high, pleasurable sighs filling the space

your senses were overwhelmed, your eyes shutting on their own, feeling guilty with how much you came but at the same time, a sick pleasure ignited inside of you.

You felt a soft caress against your cheek and without opening your eyes you could tell that it was lana. you leaned into her touch, a deep yearning flooding your chest. sobs escaping your trembling lips as she cooed and kissed your tears away

"Shh baby I'm here, I love you, I love you so much y/n" she whispered and ur sobs got louder. You could hear sunghoon's laughter in the background, his body had left yours at some point.

"she's pretty when she cries isn't she? kiss her baby, wanna see u making out with the little slut" he spoke from somewhere.

You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to face your sister's want and the glaring reality that it was her all along.

It wasn't sunghoon who wanted u, it was her.

She wanted to break u through sunghoon and now she had. You didn't think u could leave even if you wanted to.

A tongue slithered inside your mouth and ur sister groaned upon tasting you. Tangling your tongues together, you felt her hand groping your chest, moaning into ur mouth at feeling your body

"u're mine, u have always been mine" you heard her whisper before u sinked into unconsciousness. your body shutting down and mind choosing to disassociate from the glaring reality.

you always knew your step sister loved u in a way that was different from how your friends' sisters loved them. you always knew that lana loved you too much.

loved u so much that it was lethal

#part 2 finally??? #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut

[tuwlips]

Caleb boyfriend hcs. Short! Reader

I can see the talkative x shy trope with Caleb, him obviously being the talkative one in the relationship while his s/o is a sweet shy girl.

Likes to tease A LOT. And not just in a suggestive way, in every way possible. You want a hug? Mm you have to say it out loud and clear, (even though deep down he knows what you want.)

You can't hide anything from him, he reads you like an open book

Flusters you 24/7. Random headpats, sudden kiss on the cheek and then pretending like nothing happened.

Stares at you while you ramble to him about things that happened throughout your day. Loves when he sees you light up while talking about your favorite show, game, book or anything. He tries to listen, he really does but you are such a distraction.

"Gosh you're cute." He mumbles to himself. "Hm? Did you say something?" You look at him. He puts a strand of hair behind your ear, slowly leans in and lightly kisses your cheek.

If you're short, get ready to be bullied by this man because he will hold things high above your head and tease the life out of you.

You once couldn't get the jam jar because it was on the top shelf. Caleb saw this and came to your way. You thought it was to help you, how naive. Man's picked up the jar and put it on the shelf above it and walked away. You were flabbergasted.

Of course seeing your slightly pouting face, he apologizes and gets you the jar. Gives you kisses on the cheek as extra apology.

Greenest flag ever. Strictly follows the sidewalk rule. Even if you unintentionally happen to be close to the streets, he would exchange places while talking. You wouldn't even notice sometimes.

Gives the best care during periods. If you're on your period, he will bring you to his place, you can't say no to him no matter what. “I can't leave you alone when you're on your period like this. Stay with me for the week, I promise I'll take good care of you."

Has everything ready for you. Pads, pain meds, comfort food. Name anything and he will bring it to you without hesitation.

Will cuddle from behind and rub your abdomen as to soothe the pain.

And if you cry from pain, he will hold you and wipe your tears away. He hates seeing you cry and hates that he can't do more than give you your meds.

Will cook for you all the time. He secretly has a cooking plan made just for you. He loves cooking for you, especially when you compliment his cooking skills and praise him. Hides his face so that you don't see the slight blush on his face.

Baking together? He's all in for it. He lets you take the lead while baking since he knows how much you love it. Will be playful and smudge flour on your face for fun and then laugh.

Is great at comfort and encouraging words. He believes in you more than you believe in yourself sometimes.

100% gamer bf.

Owns a PS5 and also a PC. I can see Caleb playing games like Final Fantasy and Resident Evil.

If you're into cozy games he will definitely check those out too. You wanna play animal crossing together with him? Done. Y'all gonna keep playing and won't even notice the time. He secretly loves playing cozy games. He didn't even himself know until he met you. Never makes fun of you for you taste in game. Games are for fun and comfort. No one should be shamed for that.

You wanna play on his PS5? Uh-uh not so easily. This cheeky guy would let you play on one condition. He sits with his legs crossed and pats on his lap. If you deny, you can say goodbye to the PS5. But, if you obey and sit on his lap, he will literally give you his PS5. You can take it. All yours. He just wants you.

Given your height and size, it's easy and comfy for you to sit on his lap and get hugged while playing. He watches you, placing a kiss on your head every now and then.

Overall, Caleb is a 10/10 boyfriend. He loves you a lot and will always support you no matter what.

#caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #l&ds caleb #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds fluff #love and deep space #boyfriend caleb is such a sweetheart #love and deepspace fluff

[azure-cherie]

PAC : What turns them on about you 18+

If you're underage babe go study 😭 I promise there are better things to do 🫶

Choose with your intuition, take what resonates and leave the rest you can choose multiple

Pile 1:

Hey loves hope you're doing well , so getting into this I feel your tongue does magick the way you just like biting your lips arouses them they like it when you lick lollipops or ice creams they start wondering about things in their mind . They love how curvy you are but not overly they like the soft curves that you have . I also see that you might have curly hair , they like it untangled and wild there's so much energy of appreciation for the natural you by them . They like the way you walk i believe they also like the food you make I think they might have Taurus energy , could have some kind of fantasy along with food. This pile could be couples where they just watch Netflix and chill and then next moment they're onto something I feel so much the energy of ✨ comfort ✨ in this pile it's so lovely . I feel they love you so much but when it comes to the deed they do it even better . The fantasies in your mind will come short they already want you so much.

Songs : Burning desire by lana del rey, wildside by normani , hills by the Weeknd.

Pile 2 :

Hey loves hope you're doing well . Your perfume good lord the way you smell 👌, the way the aroma spreads over after you come to the room after bathing, do you use coconut, vanilla products they really like it. They like to see your a** and the way it bounces , they'd like to sleep on it 💀 might also be a fan of thighs the like it when you wear less because oftentimes you're so covered up to see the structure of your authentic body turns them on . They also are very sensitive to your touch , if you're touchy ma'am it's working they get goosebumps when you're near ✨ . Also a big fan of getting to see you getting dressed and putting on makeup , do you have blond or just light coloured hair in comparison to your ethnicity they love it . They love your voice I think it could match to anime girls , you ignite the masculine energy in them so well . You let them take charge and take decisions and that really makes them turned on . They take charge of everything and you keep glowing and flowing in creativity . They love your poems btw .

Songs : Heaven by Julia Michaels, stargirl interlude by lana del rey.

Pile 3 :

Hey loves hope you're doing well Sapio fr , they like your intelligence and the way you challenge them , im getting office siren vibes oml , it's giving me dangerous women by Ariana Grande you're not someone easy and hard to get they like it they like the chase the way you make them wait gets them so turned on they just want to get it started lord . They also get turned on by your b**bs and they could have k**ks related to that . I feel like you might be in a long distance or just don't get to see each other often and when you guys meet the energy itself is so arousing and happy it gets them on and they like to pleasure you . They are excited by the wish to adore you . They also like how cute you are the softness also turns them on , they wanna spoil you and see how you can be once you are touched by them.✨

Songs : Dangerous women by Ariana Grande, I see red bag everybody loves an outlaw.

That's all hope you guys enjoyed the reading , feedbacks are appreciated

Have a great day/night ahead

#pac readings #pacreading #pac reading #pac tarot #pac #pick a photo #pick a deck #pick a picture #pick a card reading #tarot card reading #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot community #intuitive tarot reading #intuitive reading

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #emicha writes #idk how this turned out this long #I just put my daddy issues to work #I'm thinking about writing more casual one shot length pieces like this more often though #btw anyone else who only got real gold jewellery as a child? #having a grandma who told them fake jewellery isn't good for your skin? #and now that you're an adult you're left with a certain standard for jewellery but no money to actually pay for it? #because that's really funny ha! #I'll sleep better knowing the ancunin brood will just steal their jewellery even when they're not destitute

[xiaowhore]

scribbled hearts.

premise. alhaitham learns to stop falling asleep in places that isn't his bed the hard way. (alternatively, in which the librarian doesn't follow the script to wake sleeping beauty.)

Kaveh finds Alhaitham furiously scrubbing his face in the bathroom.

At first, he's absolutely ecstatic. For all that Alhaitham refuses to practice skincare, he's never gotten a zit on his face. An earth-shattering revelation to Kaveh, who maintains a strict nightly skincare routine—he's never gone to sleep without a moisturizing facemask. It's not the most infuriating thing about his roommate, but it annoys him that a guy who only washes his face in the morning has clearer skin than he does.

Is this it? Is Alhaitham receiving retribution at last? Is he finally suffering the consequences of his carelessness?!

But when Kaveh cranes his neck to get a better look at Alhaitham's face, he doesn't see any of the sort.

“Dude...” Kaveh can't even laugh due to sheer incredulity, staring at Alhaitham with a pitying look. Alhaitham thinks it would be less irritating if he just laughed in his face. “Did a third-grader pick on you?”

Alhaitham grits his teeth, wiping the remnants of ink on his face. He's mostly gotten rid of the sparkly anime eyes you drew over his eyelids, but it still looks like a fading black eye. The blush lines on his cheeks are a work in progress, but they'll disappear with some effort.

“They have the maturity of one, at least.”

Alhaitham has met his fair share of librarians—there's the stern, no-nonsense kind he's gotten forehead flicks from every time he's caught dozing off on his thesis paper; the introverted bookish type who stutters as they nervously but firmly tell him off for hogging all the books a certain class needs for a report; the motherly sort who smuggles him coffee in his all-nighters when he looks like death itself...

And then there's you.

Cheekier than his brat of a roommate, you somehow manage to annoy him like nobody else can. He'd rather have you scold him for treating the library as a second bedroom than clip ribbons to his hair whenever you catch him sleeping. Hell, he'd take a skull-shattering forehead flick over doodles on his face any day. But even if he preaches his troubles to anyone willing to listen, they're never sympathetic.

Because for some reason, you're never like this to anyone else.

If anyone at campus were asked to describe you, they'll say you're a model student. Scholarly, courteous, standing tall with dignified grace; you're the perfect picture of a goody-two-shoes. Nothing like the childish brat who terrorizes his nap schedule on a daily basis.

People who have a vendetta against him is nothing new. What he doesn't understand, however, is what he did to be the object of your wrath.

“Maybe [Name] likes you. Kind of like how boys bully the girl they like,” is the ridiculous answer Kaveh gives him, dropping those words like they weigh nothing with a nonchalant shrug. Alhaitham would think it more likely for the reverse to be true; your insistence to dedicate your time into ruining his day is nothing short of admiration—surely a testament to just how much you hate him.

...Okay, so maybe Alhaitham could guess a few things for why. There's been a handful of times (read: it happens at least thrice a week) he kept you stationed at the library longer than you had to be because he fell asleep until closing hours, and he has a tendency to forget returning the materials he borrows for his thesis to the library...

So. Perhaps this was a consequence of his actions after all.

He argues that there are far more mature methods to resolve this issue, though.

Alhaitham stares at the crudely drawn portrait scrawled on his arm, deeply unimpressed. Although he's not one to boast about his looks, he's rather sure he isn't as much of an eyesore as you drew him to be, his nose an exaggerated point (a literal triangle) and his lips wide open as he drools, dangerously close to the rectangles he guesses are supposed to be books. Don't sleep on the reference books!! You'll get drool all over them >:(, reads the scribbled letters beside the portrait, an angry face scrawled haphazardly next to them.

(Still, by the corner of his eye, he spots a cup of his usual order of coffee, a neon pink sticky note pasted on the lid: Wake up and finish your report quickly, I have a show to catch at 8 :>

It would be easier to hate you if being bratty is all there is to your personality, really.)

You scribble all over your notes.

It's a fact Alhaitham has known about you since long ago. Everything else about you is neat and orderly, but every page of your notebook has some sort of doodle on the corners. They range from meticulous side-profiles of whoever sits beside you that day to meaningless hearts and smiley faces akin to what a five-year-old child might make.

If you've chosen to be more artistic for the doodles you draw all over him, perhaps Alhaitham might not mind as much. It's unfortunate you much rather prefer drawing exaggerated tear streaks on his face.

“I'm quite certain this is a form of harassment,” Alhaitham grumbles, rubbing his face with makeup remover. As pointless as it is to express his woes to the cause of said woes, he finds himself seated before the reception desk to keep you company anyway. “I don't understand why you're still doing this.”

“It's a punishment for falling asleep and keeping me holed up in here to guard the library until it closes,” you drone, fixing the library cards. “And yet you still refuse to stop. Is it really so hard to go to the dormitory instead?”

Alhaitham shrugs. A sigh inevitably escapes your lips.

Eventually, you run out of stupid things to draw on his skin whenever you catch him sleeping.

You start to write your shopping list on his arm instead.

“Why on earth would you need three cartons of eggs?” Alhaitham leans against the desk you're stationed at, reading the bulletpoints on his skin.

Eventually, Alhaitham gets used to scrubbing off your vandalism too. It's his personal brand of skincare.

“They're on sale today,” you reply, signing the papers requesting new stocks of books. “And I was planning on baking, so it's better I have plenty of ingredients for trial and error.”

“Sounds heavy,” he hums, eyes scanning the rest of your list. “Want me to come with?”

At that, your pen stops moving. “...Why?”

“I need to buy cereal.”

(No he doesn't. Kaveh went on a grocery run yesterday.)

“Sure, I guess...?” It's an unexpected development, but you wouldn't turn away an extra pair of hands. “Should we get going, then?”

“Yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “...But you didn't borrow a book today yet. Aren't you getting anything first?”

Alhaitham looks around. “The book I wanted isn't here, so I suppose I still have to wait a few days for it.”

“What is it?” You click your pen, reaching for your notepad. (You already have one of those, Alhaitham seriously sees no point in you writing down your grocery list on his arm.) “I'll tell you when it gets returned.”

“...No, it's fine. Let's go, the eggs you wanted might be all gone if we take our time getting there.”

You jolt up in alarm, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “You're right, we should hurry!”

For all it's worth, you're pretty gullible.

“You're still keeping that up?”

Alhaitham looks up from his laptop, fingers halting in their movement. “What do you mean?”

Kaveh scrunches his nose, pointing at the scribbles on his palm. “Your weird mating ritual. Can't you two communicate like normal people?”

Alhaitham glances at the mess you've made of his arm, full of little messages and doodles you wrote back and forth to each other during Biology period. Alhaitham had been, perhaps for the first time, not feeling drowsy. Regardless, you've taken to treating his skin as paper (“Save the trees,” you told him once, ignoring the disbelieving expression on his face), and Alhaitham has already accepted that you won't stop doing it as long as you still find it amusing.

“We do talk. Normally.”

“And if you do, why are you still doing... that.”

Alhaitham doesn't have anything to say to that. He did think it was inconvenient to wash all the messages off, and there are far more practical modes of communication.

But for some reason, he can't find it himself to say that he outright dislikes it.

And maybe he traces the shapes you draw on his skin, in the private confines of his room where no one can see him. Maybe he admires the smooth strokes of your penmanship, the adorable curls of your letters, the bubbly font that always makes him chuckle because it's just so like you.

There are hearts sometimes, or even flowers when you feel like drawing something more detailed. The ugly sketches of him sleeping are somewhat annoying, but he still finds himself endeared. Though some things are appallingly inaccurate—you've done his nose a horrible injustice more than once—he notices the correct placement of beauty marks on his face, the sharp edges of his eyes, the meticulous dimple that faintly appears when he smiles.

A thrill runs through him when he thinks of you paying attention to him, more than you've ever given anyone else.

And, well. Alhaitham's certain he's been doing plenty of that for you.

“Don't you think you're being unfair?”

You pause in your typing, averting your eyes from the computer monitor to glance at Alhaitham. “Unfair in what, exactly?”

He mindlessly spins a pen with his fingers, staring at the blank canvas that was your arm compared to the sketchbook you've made out of his. “You're the only one who writes on me.”

“What, you want to write your shopping list on me for a change?” you arch up an eyebrow, unperturbed. “I thought you said it was impractical.”

“I never said I wanted to write my shopping list.”

“What else would you write, then?”

Alhaitham reaches for your arm. “Give me your hand.”

You blink, not quite unwilling yet confused all the same. You offer your hand and he uncaps his pen, scribbling on your palm. You've never been on the receiving end of this little game, so you're not sure what to expect from him.

“There.” Satisfied, he lets go and stands up. “I'm going home for the day. Good luck with the rest of your shift.”

“See you tomorrow, I guess...?” you wave at him in farewell, but he's quick to spring on his feet and dart out the door. “What's his deal...”

You turn over your hand, seeing a string of numbers written in neat font.

“Oh.”

Alhaitham feels silly for anticipating a text like some lovestruck teenage girl who exchanged numbers with her crush.

The blinking cursor on his blank essay document almost looks mocking, and as time passes by, the only word he's managed to type out is “The.” Even so, his attention is completely locked on his phone, devoid of any notifications.

If it weren't for Kaveh being nosy the other day, he wouldn't have gotten the idea of giving you his number. He did think something had to change, but he didn't know how to get there. But now that he's gotten this far, he can expect a little bit, right?

At last, his phone chimes its long awaited notification. Alhaitham is quick to ditch his laptop and shuts it closed, reaching for his phone where it sits on his desk. He swears he's never typed his password so fast before in his life.

Unfortunately, the text he's been anticipating for a good portion of the day is nothing but a disappointment.

Unknown number: eggs milk whipping cream flour

Unknown number: baking powder cocoa powder vanilla extract sugar

What was he expecting anyway?

He sighs and leans back on his chair, solemly pushing his laptop open. He doubts this message requires a response back.

Another notification lights his phone.

This time, Alhaitham doesn't even have the energy to unlock his screen. He squints at the notification preview.

Unknown number: wanna come over when I finish baking the souffles?

He doesn't quite drop his phone in shock, but it's a near thing.

You: I'll go carry the groceries too.

Unknown number: thanks! 💖

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #i wrote this between months so forgive me if the pacing is a little off :'D #but this has been sitting in my drafts for half a year so i had to finish it somehow

[boxtea]

🎀imagine making padawan Anakin sleep in your frilly pink bed (18+)

「 I mostly wrote this because I wanna make someone sleep in my hello kitty bed tbh 」 not proofread

After a day of following around your master on a mission you were so god damn tired with two things on your mind, cuddling Anakin and taking a nap.

You marched your way to his quarters knocking on the door, when he opened it his eyes lit up to see his favorite girl “You’re back!” He said as he grinned and picked you up. “Oh I missed you so much” Anakin mumbles into your neck, taking in your scent. “Ani..” you whine, “I missed you too, can we please have a nap?” He sets you down and takes in your tired expression. “I’m sorry princess of course.” He goes to lead you back into his room but you stop him and tug on his sleeve. “Noo.. in my room please” during your time away you missed your comfy bed with all your stuffed animals so much, thats the only place you wanted to be. Anakin stop and stared for a bit “your room?” He hesitates. “Sure I suppose..” he reluctantly agrees.

Being a hard headed teen boy he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sleeping in a pink girly bed, and your stuffed animals and pillows never really left room for him. But on the other hand that meant you being pressed against him and the whole bed just smelled like you.

As you led back to your room, guiding him by holding his hand he couldn’t help but think about how his hand was so much bigger than yours and how soft your hands were. Then his eyes drifted to your hips swaying and how perfect your butt looked, but before he knew it you opened your door and dragged him into your room.

Taking no time you slipped off your pants and shirt, not minding Anakin watching and he did. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you struggled to take off your bra. Of course he rushed over to help you, admiring the way your chest looked. “You’re so pretty..” he mumbles, reaching his hands to grope and feel you. “Ani..” you let out a soft moan and it was music to his ears. “I missed you so much princess” he whines out, backing you onto your bed. “Ani I wanna sleep..” you protest but it’s no use.

Anakin can’t help himself, you look so perfect and he missed you so much while you were on your mission. He gets off the bed and gets on his knees in front of you, pulling your clothed pussy to his face by hooking his arms under your thigh. He presses his nose to the area between your hips and your thigh and inhales before deciding it’s not enough and sticking his nose directly to your panties and huffing you like a drug. “Fuck you smell so good” he groans and you melt at his perverted actions. He pulls your panties to the side and kisses all over your pretty pussy. You moan and dig your hands into his short hair. “Ani please!” It comes out as almost a moan, your want for him is almost a need at this point. “Please what? Tell me princess.” He stares at you from between your thighs as he pulls off your panties. “Please eat me out Anakin..” before you can even finish your sentence he’s licking up your pussy. The man practically moans at the taste of you, shoving his tongue inside for more.

“Anakin!” You squeal as he eats you like a starved man.

He moves up, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking on it while shoving two fingers inside your pussy, curling them and rubbing along your walls. It doesn’t take much longer until your close. He can easily tell by the way you tighten around his fingers and you tug on his hair. Your moans get louder until you can’t take it anymore and cum all over Anakins hand and face. He removes his fingers, shoving them in his mouth and licking them clean before moving to clean your pussy until he hears your whines of overstimulation. “You did so good princess” he praises while rubbing your thigh, getting up onto the bed to pull you close to his body. “You’re so good honey” you can feel him poking you but you’re just too sleepy to care. Anakin pets your hair and kisses your temple. “Have a nap princess.”

「 I have no clue how to write sos critique welcome ily 」

#anakin x reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker smut #padawan anakin #x reader smut #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen x reader #Hayden Christensen smut #Hayden fangirl #please help sos

[urfavlarry]

Hello...I am currently obessed with school bus graveyard and there's not enough fanfics for me😭

So can i please get a jealous!Aiden clark x Female!reader?

jealous!Aiden Clark x Fem!reader

summary: you and Aiden went on a date to the Arcade and someone decided to hit on you

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, a bit short and rushed

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It was a sunny morning, you woke up in your boyfriends arms after staying up for a long time watching movies. You looked up at his sleeping figure and leave kisses on his face, making him smile and open his tired eyes. He pulls you on top of him and he looks at you with a tired smile, cupping your cheek. “Good morning love~” He pulls you closer and kisses your soft lips. You hum and pull away, resting your head on his chest. “How about we go to the arcade today? Spend the day together?” He asks and you chuckle; “We always spend time together.” You joke but nod your head; “But that sounds fun! We should go!” You say enthusiastically and stand up and grab some spare things you have in Aidens wardrobe you left here since you sleep over quite often. He watches you with a loving gaze and you change into some casual clothes. He comes up behind you and hugs you from behind. He hides in the crook of your neck and you go on your phone, both of you just standing there for a few minutes.

The time of you guys going to the arcade arrived and you were beyond excited! It was a long time since you went to the arcade so it was refreshing to go there after so long. You pull him to the dance machine and you both give each other a playful glare. To say you both were competitive was an understatement. You won and Aiden chased you around trying to get revange but you guys ended up getting yelled at by some staff and you mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and go on with your day.

A few hundred tickets later you guys decide to rest for a bit, counting them and try to decide what you should buy with them. Aiden tell you he will be right back and grabs the tickets, leaving you alone in the dining area of the arcade. You bring your knees to your chest and go on your phone, watching random things until he gets back. You heard footsteps and you thought it was Aiden coming back but you see an unfamiliar pair of shoes walk up to your booth so you look up to see a boy around your age. He had dark skin and black curly hair that went down to his shoulders. You didn’t recognize him but he surely did. “Hey you’re Y/N right? You go to my school.” He says snd sits down next to you. You nod awkwardly and force a smile. “Haha I guess so.. who are you?” You ask and try to move away, backing against the wall. He smirks at you and looks you up and down, leaning closer; “Well, what is a pretty girl like you doing alone? You know I can treat you better then that guy that stood you up.” He says and completely ignores your question making, you look at him confused, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You pray for Aiden to come back as soon as possible when you feel a hand on your waist; “Come on~ I just wanna take you ou—” He gets pulled away and falls onto the ground with a loud thud. He grouns in pain and quickly runs away once seeing who pushed him.

You look at Aiden and he looks at you, and he looked pissed. He glared at you and the stuffed animal in his arms was literally getting strangled. The scene was pretty funny since you never saw him get angry and he looked cute with the stuffed animal in his hand. Aiden drags you out of the arcade and walks with you to an unkown place. You walk in silence, Aiden squeezing your arm like it was a stress toy and leads you to his house. He unlocks it and runs to his room, you walking slowly behind him. You close the door of his bedroom and you get tackled into a bear hug. You stumble back and you fall on the ground, Aiden burying his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles swears and curses, calling you his and that the guy was stupid to think he could get with you.

You smile and lay there, playing with his hair as he leaves kisses on your face. You smile at him, the scene really was funny, it was like a child having a tantrum. He looks down at you, hoisting himself up on his elbows and speaks; “You’re mine.” He says sternly and kisses your cheek. He then frowns for a second and looks back at you; “You wouldn’t have went with him right?” He asks and you quickly shake your head ‘no’ and sit up. “Never! I was so uncomfortable the whole time, I was quite literally praying for you to come back!” You say and that makes him smirk, apparently boosting his ego.

“Aww, you waited for me to come and protect you~ I knew you..—” He goes on and on about you needing him and that the guy never stood a chance and you just let him ramble, finding it cute. You chuckle at his antics and he noticed this, his smirk growing a bit, sadistic. He slowly walks towards you and you notice his hands going a bit too close to your sides. Your eyes widen and you jump to your feet, literally jumping over the bed to get away from him. “Nope!” You yell and put your hands on your side to protect them. You smiled softly, glad that everything was going back to normal. Aiden managed to get to you, but we don’t talk about that, the redt of the day was spent with Aiden rambling about random topics while you were listening, always with a smile.

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#school bus graveyard requests #school bus graveyard x y/n #school bus graveyard fanfiction #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #aiden sbg x reader #sbg aiden clark #aiden clark sbg #aiden clark x reader #sbg aiden #aiden clark #aiden sbg

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, sorry this is late but I had this huge ass presentation that I had to prepare for and was having a borderline mental breakdown every day of this week, so yeah! I tried something new with this piece of writing, I hope y'all enjoy it, I would love to know y'all's feedback!

WC: 1.6k

Pairing: BF! Jisung x afab!reader

Warnings: Somnophilia, cockwarming, m! masturbation, fem! masturbation (barely talked about), unprotected sex!, cumming inside, oral sex f!recieving

He slowly thrusts into you, soft sleepy whines escaping your lips. 

He had your full consent, the two of you had talked about it many times before. How you were free for him, whenever he needed you. 

He thought you were joking at first, unsure that free use was something you would be into. The first time the two of you had fucked like that he kept asking if you were okay, afraid he did something wrong. 

“I don’t know why you keep asking me after you fucked me against our washing machine” you giggled, pulling up your shorts. He just sighed, kissing your lips and thanking you for being so comfortable with him to allow him to fuck you whenever he wanted. 

It was for your enjoyment as much as his you had told them. You knew how stressed he was from work, from constantly being anxious, or just having so much energy at times he didn’t know where to focus it. You enjoyed being there for him, and having his long cock inside of you was just an added bonus. 

After the first two times, he no longer refrained himself. When he was playing video games, your mouth was cockwarming him, at times it was your warm little cunt. Even when the two of you were watching anime, he would just began to fuck you slowly against the couch, wanting to do something while watching. 

You were like a little toy for him, his own personal fleshlight that he could fuck anytime, like right now. He had just come home from visiting his brother, the smell of beer still lingering on his breathe. As he looked out the window on the ride home from his brother’s, all he could think about was you. 

How you would whimper underneath him as your sleeping body took his cock. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought of it in the back of the taxi, shifting a bit so the driver couldn’t see his semi. 

As he walked, he could smell your sweet scent through the air. You had texted him earlier, telling him how you were doing a self care day, pampering yourself to the extreme. 

He slowly entered your shared room, taking note of your chest rising and following under the blanket. Your vibrator was thrown on the other end of the bed, causing him to groan. You really were taking the self pampering to a whole other level. 

He entered your shared bathroom, inhaling the scent of your soap as he lathered himself in it, washing away the night with you. You were filling up every single one of his senses and he loved it. He couldn’t wait to be next to you, your warm body pressed against his. Your already wet cunt from trying to get off would make it so easy for him to just slip the tip of his cock inside of you, maybe even waking you up to cause you to beg for more. 

He groaned at the thought of it, his cock getting hard under the warm water, the tip hitting his toned stomach. He slowly pumped it, using the water as lubrication, the scent of you wrapped around it. 

All he could think about is you, you and your perfect smile, your cute little moans, his perfect girl. 

Before he could cum, he slowly pulled his hand away from his aching cock, ensuring that there was no residue of soap on his body and got out of the shower. A white towel adorning his small hips. 

His hair was slightly damp as he stepped out and back into your room only to see your almost naked body splayed like a starfish on the bed. Your tank top had ridden above your stomach, allowing him to see a sliver of your boob, your nipples already hard pressing against the material due to the cool night air. Your panties damp, most likely from your escapades from earlier in the night.

He loved you, and couldn’t believe you were his, his to use whenever he wanted. His good little girl. 

He slowly moved to the bed, his knees pressed agains the mattress between your splayed legs. He slowly pulled down your underwear, making sure that you weren’t awaken by the sudden gush of cool air against your glistening cunt. 

He loved teasing you in your sleep, kissing up your thighs, licking the sides of them before he went to devour your cunt. He slowly kissed a sloppy wet kiss right on your hip before blowing cool air on it, causing you to squirm in your sleep. He chuckled, loving that he could get a reaction out of you even as you slept. 

He checked one more time before he dove into your cunt, lapping up the remains of your previous orgasm as he tried to expel another one out of you. He groaned at the taste of you, his tongue running up and down your folds before capturing your clit in between his lips, sucking on it. 

You tasted like ambrosia, the sweetest thing he’s ever had, fit for a king, or in his case, himself. You were like nectar and he never wanted to stop lapping at it, capturing every drop on his tongue before no more could cum out. 

He slowly pulled away, your essence covering the bottom part of his face before slowly inserting a finger into you. Your body had reacted, your legs about to clamp around his arm before he stopped you, his tongue clicking. 

“Such a greedy cunt, but can barely take a finger” he whispered to no one. He slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you before adding another. “Fuck, you are taking me so well, even in your sleep baby” he groaned before going back to lapping at your clit.

He could do this for hours he thought to himself as his fingers slowly hit that spongey part inside your clit that drove you wild. “Fuck, can feel you clenching, are you about to cum baby?” 

He didn’t even have to wait for your response, you were too deep in your slumber to even register this as something real and not a wet dream. He knew your body too well that he knew you were about to cum. 

Just as he expected, he felt your body convulse underneath him, slight moans and sighs escaping your lips as your breathe became more and more rapid.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, sticking them in his mouth and groaning at the taste. He slowly dragged his hard cock, pre-cum alreading leaking from the tip since he got into bed, against your wet folds. 

Your body shook as his tip ran against your clit. His mouth hung slighlty agape at the sight. He loved how responsive your body was for him even while you slept. 

He couldn’t take it any longer though, slowly inserting the tip of his cock into your tight little pussy, groaning at the sight of your pussy taking him in. 

“Fuck baby, take my cock, take it like the good little cock slut you are” 

You slowly stirred away at the feeling of his cock sheating inside of you, only to be soothed back to sleep by Jisung brushing the top of your hair, cooing at how well you take his cock. 

“There we go baby, go back to sleep. If you are a good girl, I’ll even let you suck my cock in the morning” he giggled as sleep took over your body once again, the feeling of floating over taking your senses. 

When he could finally hear your breathing slow down, he began to slowly thrust inside of you, letting every squeeze of your cunt get him closer to his own high. 

“Fuck baby, there we go” he groaned out loud, his thrusts slowly getting faster. “Fuck, taking my cock so well, even when you are asleep under neath me, you just love my fucking cock”

He slowly pulled your tanktop all the way down, revealing your breasts as he captured one in his mouth, sucking on your nipple as he played and pinched the other one. He could feel the way your cunt was squeazing him, and he knew you were close, he was too. 

He finally lost himself when you came for him a second time, him following suit, shooting his thick load straight into you as he laid back down, wrapping his arms around you, his cock still in his cunt as he fell asleep. 

When you finally felt the warm sunlight hit your face, you spoke out loud as you felt Jisung’s cock situated inside of you. 

“Did you cock warm me the entire night” you asked, your eyes trying to adjust to the light around you as you rubbed your eyes awake. 

“I also fucked you, but I guess you didn’t notice” he giggled, kissing your shoulder. 

“So I wasn’t having a wet dream?” you asked, looking back at his face before placing a kiss onto his plump lips. 

“Nope” he giggled 

“Well, I guess it was a good start to my Valentine’s Day” you giggled before slowly removing his softened cock from inside of you, running your hands through your hair as you sat up. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he questioned, a perplexed look on his face. “Are you kidding me Ji?” 

“Definitely” he replied, still a bit confused, causing you to giggle. “I guess you aren’t joining me in the bathroom for another surprise then!” you simply got up running to the bathroom. 

“Hey, wait that isn’t fair” he whined from behind the closed door. 

What were you going to do with this man?

#valentine's day collab! #ju's <3 moots! #ju <3 writes #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han smut #han jisung #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz han #skz smut #straykids x reader #straykids smut #skz x reader

[lvandrskies]

— 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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