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luvwestwood · 8 days

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❝ SAVE A COW, MILK THE ...!? ❞ - Choso Kamo

— (18+) .. SEEMS LIKE THE LOCAL MILKMAN HAS A DIFFERENT TYPE OF MILK IN STORE FOR YOU.

ᯓ★ warnings. (18+), milkman! choso, msub to mdom, overstimulation, titty jobs, p in v, resolved sexual tension, oral (m rec), squirting, slow burn, praising, slight? creampie, suggestive language and actions

ᯓ★ notes. I made choso soo whiny in this I fear.. please beware, there is a LOT of irony in this LMAOO.. plus I need him real bad I think u can tell, anyways hope u all enjoy, this was my 1.4k gift <3

4,862 words (17m read)

please check out and support the actual artists piece on twt!/ig, - @/iamdebruh! + art (center of heading) is by @/yunonoai on twt.

Eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and.. and..?

You analyse the countertop carefully, eyes flickering over each ingredient you had pulled out of the grocery bags less than a minute ago.

"Let's try this again.." Sticking a finger out, you point at the produce one by one, performing a routine of a silly head-count. "Okay- eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and…" Your index finger lands on an empty space that was yet to be filled, and finally, it registers into that brain of yours.

"Oh, how could I possibly forget the milk?!" You cry out in pure distraught, scanning the other countertops in hopes of accidentally misplacing it somewhere instead. Pretty useless though, as no sudden miracle was to be found anywhere.

Groaning, you bury your face into the palm of your hands— mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting one of the vital ingredients for the cream pie, how could you?

Hissing as you pace around the kitchen, you open the fridge with brutal force, head close enough to imploding as you rummage inside for a drop of milk to be found.

"There's no way I'm making a second trip. Not with these gas prices." You whisper to yourself, drawing your head back from being stuck deep inside the fridge, using the curve of your ass shut the doors.

Nibbling on your fingernails, you take one more glance at the ingredients on the counter; contemplating whether you should head back, give up fully and try another day, or….

ding dong!

Hand on hip, your head darts to one side, towards the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be?

Dragging your feet to the front door, you reach over by your side to the console table; digging your hands into the glass bowl for your keys.

Another knock sounds from the door, a deep voice speaking from behind it. “..Delivery!”

As you fiddled with the lock, you glanced over to the clock on the wall; reading exactly half past four in the afternoon. You weren't expecting anyone, really. You usually kept to yourself on Fridays, just to relax from a week’s worth of busy work.

Taking a swift look into the peephole, you could only see the glass covered with white— it seems that whoever is outside is clearly blocking the view.

The door opens widely, revealing a familiar figure you tend to see a few times each week— the milkman. You take note of the few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, unable to be hidden by his cap. Did he.. run here?

Dark brown hair, tickling the top of his shoulders; cap embellished with "Milkman" just before the brim. Covered in white, bar his black pants. You recall that he goes by the name Choso, a piece of valuable information you managed to pull out of him during an interaction only a few weeks ago.

You must admit, your milkman was quite decent looking for someone with a position like his, and the cute bow tie encircled around his neck depicted him to look sweet and dandy. Wait, there's no way I'm swooning over my local milkman right now.

"Oh, Choso- How could I forget?!" You chirp, seems as if he came at the most ideal time you could possibly think of. "What a coincidence, just in time for my cream pie!"

His biceps scream against the fabric of his short-sleeves, begging to be let out as he tightens his grip around the neck of the glass bottle. "I-in time for your what?" Ears painted with a tinge of red, he looks shocked, more on the flustered side.

Letting out an anxious giggle, you point back behind you with the use of your thumb. "Sorry- I meant I was just about to bake a cream pie right now, and I realised I forgot the milk." Looking over your shoulder, then back at him, he smiles back; clearly flustered over the misunderstanding.

"R-right, I apologise, it's been a really long day.." He hands over the bottle, slightly crouching down to pick up his carrier that rested at his feet. "You're actually my last delivery today, they let me off early cause of the work I've done this week."

Holding the door open with your foot, you carefully place the jug on the same console table behind you, smiling to yourself as he went on a tangent about all the things he had accomplished this week— as if he was expressing genuine content rather than boasting.

"Well someone has been a good boy this week, huh?" You innocently beam at him, Choso's knuckles growing white as he clenched the carriers handle. He seems appreciative of the comment, but looks as if he wasn't used to receiving any.

"..Yeah.." Diverting his gaze away from you, he decides to stare down at the top of his shoes, until something you say has his eyes darting back up at you in a split second. The air so thick with tension, the two of you suddenly stay silent.

Humming before you speak your words, you ponder and wonder if your offer was a bit out of line. "..Would you like to come in for a bit? I could really use some help in the kitchen," Not hearing an immediate response from him, you add on, "You could have some of my cream pie afterwards. It would be a workout going down all those steps again, I assume!"

Choso reaches a free hand behind his head, scratching at his nape in contemplation. He knew that you were referring to the endless flights of stairs that were nothing but a nuisance to him as he tried to get to your apartment.

The fact that you had been the only customer in this entire apartment block, didn't have any effect on him though— as it was you he was looking forward to see each time he's out on the job.

Each time he dropped the same jug of milk at yours, only meant that his low lying interest in you would continuously grow, to the point that he couldn't think of anything else, but you. The man was whipped.

He wanted to get to know you better, but couldn't muster up the courage. He felt as if there never an appropriate time to do so, and the fact he landed a job as milkman, the guy assumed that you thought of him very little.

“I.. don’t know if I should..” He mumbles, anxiety and hesitation written all over his face— so easily read.

You roll your eyes, now leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, Choso slightly taking a step back to refrain from crossing a certain line with you so up close. “Come on, it’s not like I’ll get back to your boss with this!”

Crashing at yours for a bit meant that he'd finally have the opportunity to spend some time with you. Little steps, am I right? He couldn't miss out on something like this. Only a fool would do so.

"..I-I'd love to help you with your cream pie." He blurts out, lips parted due to solely being mesmerised. The two of you gawk at each other for longer than intended, but it doesn’t allow things to turn awkward. Was it the choice of words? The tone? What was it, really?

You blankly stare at him for a second longer than he did, nodding in approval. You had very little hope in him actually saying yes. "..Alright, come in." Beckoning at Choso, you step aside, noticing how he hesitates for a moment, just before he enters at his own will.

You watch as he walks further into the apartment, stopping considerably at a point just to not go out of bounds.

Your own eyes trail down his back, surprisingly so broad, that was now facing you. Having to peel your gaze away, you safely lock the door, dropping the key back into the dish beside you.

Grabbing at the jug, you make your way past Choso; taking yet another glance behind your shoulder for reassurance, just to see him trailing behind you like an obedient puppy.

"Make yourself feel at home, don't be shy!" You remarked, stepping around the kitchen island as you gathered the ingredients back onto the counters; Choso stopping just by the stools in front of you. He seemed all quiet and timid, even doing a double take before he decides to place his carrier on a stool beside him.

He sets aside his cap, politely tucking it away into his carrier before calling for you from across the island. “So.. Is there anything I could help with..?” Extremely eager to assist you in your endeavours, he found it so absurd that he was literally with you, right now, in your own apartment.

“I’m okay for now, just relax for the time being.” Your tone reassuring, you continue your current task as soon as you flash him another smile.

Swiftly putting some ingredients into a bowl, you still occasionally glance up at Choso— the second time round, you didn't even notice that he was already situated beside you, his hands gripping at the edge of the counters as he watched your every move.

"..Hmm, you ever made a cream pie, Choso?" You blurt out, carefully sieving the flour into yet another bowl. You must admit, your words intentionally had a different meaning to them. It was funny, and you knew he would flip out; his burning gaze at the side of your head being unavoidable.

His cheeks flash hot, words stumbling after one another. "I uh, haven't, no.." His voice growing small, you were right in thinking that he thought of a different kind.

Choso mentally argued with himself for doing so, as now wouldn't be the best time to feel his cock strain against his pants. He had to immediately swat the thoughts away, as they were already tight enough. "..Have you?"

His sudden reply had your sieving come to a halt as you slowly looked up to him next and you; just to see that he was still doing the same. Staring into his eyes, you try to think of an answer, swallowing the lump in your throat in the midst of it all.

"..No, I haven't." Your words come out in a whisper, noticing how his eyes alternate between yours and your parted lips. "I've never made one.. It's my first time today." Blinking slowly, you grow timid, your eyes making its way back to the bowl.

Resting your two hands flat down on the counter, Choso's breath hitches— his finger reaching down towards your chin. Guiding you to properly look up, he slightly crouches down to close the space between you two, and in a split second, your lips latch onto each other.

Eyes squeezing shut, you melt into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck to bring him closer; Choso letting out a subtle grunt as he hesitates about where to place his hands.

"I.. wanna touch you,” Resting his forehead against yours, his voice trembles, finishing with a helpless crack. Choso was practically begging you, and something about that just had you over the edge. "You don't know how much I've been wanting this.. I need you.. please..”

And he wasn’t lying. He wondered how your soft skin felt to his touch. He always wondered whether he would ever be able to have the chance to make you feel good.

Breathing heavily against his lips, you just nod hysterically, and in less than a second he slithers both hands under your ass, hoisting you into his embrace as he gently places you on the counter beside.

Your lips crash onto each others once again, Choso feeling up and down your body, his demeanor showing how much he's been wanting this for ages. He couldn't even believe it himself. You? Allowing him to have you? Is he dreaming?

A mewl escapes your lips as he cups your face into his hands, his ticklish kisses eventually moving down to your neck, the way he touches you seem so tender, and genuine, Choso didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to savour you.

He anchors himself between your legs— chest heaving so intensely from pure excitement. Meanwhile, you strip your top off, Choso swallowing a lump as he processes the fact that you had nothing else underneath this whole time.

He wastes no time, eagerly latching his mouth onto a breast, groaning as he firmly shuts his eyes, tongue relentlessly swirling around your nipple. His free hand fondles with the other as you comb your fingers through his hair, caressing it gently to let him know he's doing a good job.

You let out a string of breathy moans, a pop sounding from his mouth as he lets go. Pausing for a moment, you try stabilise your breathing, confusion written on his face.

"The sofa," You pant, Choso doing more so the same; his brows furrowed in despair as he yearns for more of you. "Let's move to the sofa.."

And he nods, beckoning you to wrap your legs around his torso once again, your arms being used as support to cling to him. You rest your head against his chest for a split second, allowing you to hear the ecstatic pace at which his heart was going at.

His feet stops just before the sofa, giving you the opportunity to drop back down, in which you suddenly grab his hand and pull him along. Choso seems perplexed, until you gently push him down onto the sofa by the chest, and he could do nothing but stare at you in pure adoration.

"Just relax yourself, okay?" Your voice soft, you kneel after he nods obediently, more than happy to agree with whatever you say.

You don’t dare look away, fingers toying at his belt buckle; which soon enough you end up undoing. Choso was about to lose his mind, and it took a lot in him to not leak right here, right now.

Tugging on the waistline of his pants, the man shifts his hips around to allow for more leeway. His mouth remains open as quiet, irregular huffs slip out, so eager to experience the very next thing you'll be doing.

Stopping as soon as his pants met his ankles, you smile, noticing the wet spot that had formed on his boxers— your hand gently rubbing up and down his protruding bulge. A whimper chokes out of him as he shuffles around a bit more, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress any more moans. He was too afraid to admit that anything you do has him melting.

All he could do was look down at you between his legs in bliss. Choso just couldn't believe it, and this was definitely not how he expected to end his evening.

His boxers follow after his pants, feeling him shudder under your touch as he comes into contact with the cold air. You shift around upon seeing his throbbing, leaking tip; not letting anymore time pass as you wrap your mouth over it, your satisfied humming sending vibrations to and through him.

Looking up to observe a reaction, Choso only slaps a hand over his mouth, groaning into it as his face returns to the same, crimson red; his other hand shaking as he tries to rest it on the back of your head.

Your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing and a free hand kneading at his balls for extra stimulation— Choso endlessly whimpering into his palm as his head falls back into the cushions, eyes eventually closing as he floated around in a pool of pleasure.

Buckets of spit trickled down your chin as you continued sucking him off, Choso squirming in the seat from time to time, his legs unable to stay still. You decide to take another peek, looking at him one more time, and thought to yourself; he seemed cute with the bowtie still on, his actions causing a flutter in your abdomen.

"Mmh," Muffled, as he was too busy suppressing a loud moan, he gives up, hand leaving his mouth to grab onto the sofa behind him. His other free behind your head tightens its grip, Choso suddenly fucking his hips up from the sofa, his teeth gritting as helpless grunts try to slip out. "Cu.. I'm gonna.. Uh.."

Your two hands suddenly place flat onto his thighs as he fucks into your throat, Choso's array of whines intensifying as he feels his balls contracting constantly, his face so warm to the touch.

So helpless, his two hands sets its place into your scalp, Choso bottoming his cock into your throat as he lets out a lengthy moan as a familiar feeling he had never felt washes through his body.

Tears welling up in your eyes, you mentally note to yourself to continue breathing through your nose, Choso’s prolonged groan causing a pool between your legs. You feel a rope of warm fluid shoot down your pipes, your hands repeatedly slapping at his thighs for a sliver of air.

His head hauling back down, he didn’t look the same as he did a few minutes ago— Choso’s eyes low and dark as he pulls you off his cock, a questionable grunt coming from him as he takes note of your fucked up face.

He tried his best not to laugh as you shot him a deathly glare, and of course failed. His smile fades, turning into horror as he watches you slide his cock in the midst of your cleavage, lip quivering as you drop an orb of your own spit on his tip that was slightly peeking out.

Choso’s hands grip at a cushion nearby on the sofa as you began to clamp your breasts together around his cock, moving them both up and down— throaty whimpers instantly emitting from him as you reinforced the stimulation on his still sensitive girth.

“Nghh—,” He cries out, mouth left gaped as he felt yet another foreign knot forming in his stomach; somehow identical to what he felt before orgasm, but just stronger.

“It’s too.. too much,” His words come out in a whisper, Choso’s let’s stamping the sides of your arms as you were anchored between them— his whiny voice trembling as he felt yet another impending orgasm that was about to hit him even harder.

A devilish smile plasters onto your face as you occasionally stuck a tongue out to chafe over his throbbing tip, Choso only able to let out deep grunts this entire as he occasionally looked down at you in a state of euphoria.

“Agai-n, I’m.. cum..” Incapable of finishing a sentence, his tit engulfed cock twitches, much thicker ropes of white shooting up into the air, dropping back down into your chest as it splatters droplets everywhere.

Choso’s head feels heavy at this point, his eyes lazily scanning his surroundings as he spots you decorated with the white drops that somehow managed to make its way to your face too.

Getting back to his senses, he attempts to sit up, legs still weak but with enough strength, his first instinct was to tend to you; the same hands clawed in your scalp making its way back to your cheeks as he kissed you so lovingly, his teeth nipping at those lips that were wrapped around his cock a few minutes ago.

Him being the first to pull always, it seems Choso has a request of his own. “..Get on the sofa,” he instructs, no sign of a stutter left to be heard within his words.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you beam a sinister smile as your aching knees rise off the ground— followed by you throwing yourself onto the sofa beside him.

You watch as he slightly jerks his cock, his eyes watching you take your turn obey orders. Raising your hips slightly to make things easier, you stripped the last of your garments; kicking away your underwear to the other side of the room.

Choso mirrors your actions, kicking off his shoes and trousers as he follows with his knee settling between your legs. You look up and survey his every move as his fingers yank at his bow tie, loosening it overall— his hands still trembling as he attempts to undo all buttons of his shirt.

You giggle, reaching down playfully toying with yourself as you place a foot on his bicep, shamelessly exposing your pussy even more to him as he peered down at you in utter silence.

Finally stripping away his shirt, the bow tie keeps its place and hangs around his neck— your impatient self subtly grinding against his thigh— your slick evidently leaving a mark on his skin.

“Just fuck me, Choso..” You whisper, sticking a finger into your leaking hole that has been that way ever since you made out with each other. Your words examined his ability to maintain his composure, Choso felt that it was time you did the things he wanted you to do.

His breathing hitches, Choso sucking in a breath as he leans in closer, as he guides the tip of his cock to align with your hole. An unoccupied hand grabs your legs, hoisting both on each of his shoulders.

Folding you into a mean mating press, your arms encircle his back, your moans tickling the shell of his ears as he slid himself in— throaty grunts also sounding from him.

Choso begins to move his hips slowly, your mouth gasping at his girthy cock stretching you out completely— his face buried into the crook of your neck as his hot breath fanned against your skin.

“Faster.. faster Choso..” You plead, his hips immediately snapping into you at a faster pace, his lowly grunts returning to the familiar whimpers as your gummy walls wrapped around his entire length. Feeling him in your gut, you chant his name like a prayer, Choso doing his best to fuck you in all the right spots.

A loud moan slips past your lips, your manicured nails scratching at his chiselled back like a kitty and it’s scratch post. As he fucked you into the sofa, something similar to a growl was heard from him as you dragged your nails down his entire back; surely leaving an evident trace of you behind.

Seemingly not enough for him, he uses his knuckles by your sides to prop himself up- Choso grabbing your ankles into the grasp of one hand and pushing them down further and infront of him this time.

On the verge of losing his mind, Choso’s hips brutally fuck into you, his cock deeper than ever— a white, creamy ring forming at his shaft.

His heart races at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you down below, Choso almost hypnotised at the sights as if he were eyeing a pendulum. His hand lets go of your ankles, grabbing for the edge of the sofa above your head— cock drilling you mercilessly into the cushions.

You mewl and whine, utilising maximum strength to keep your eyes open and hold a good view of Choso, his free thumb reaching down to swipe a stripe on your cheek as he coos a few praises at you.

The position you were in as of now had been churning both of your minds, Choso admittedly finding it difficult to continue fucking into you as he was about to cum at any given moment.

“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes looking into yours as he studied your facial expressions, “So pretty,” Your cheek eventually fits into his palm as he fluctuates the pace at which he was fucking into you— nothing but satisfaction and adoration to be seen in his eyes.

His hips rut into your hole slow and deep, your hands grabbing at his wrists as you felt him bullying your cervix— cock endlessly rubbing between your walls, tip seldomly hitting against your sweet spots.

The legs of the sofa creak against the floor boards, eventually beginning to scoot itself to another side of the room. You couldn’t care less about consequences you might face with the downstairs neighbours tomorrow.

Strands of his hair stick to his forehead and temples, your fingers hooking around the strap of his necktie to pull in him closer, your lips yearning to have his on yours.

Your walls uncontrollably clench around his length, Choso’s head falling back in bliss; his mouth emitting short, overwhelmed breaths for a few seconds.

Your tits press against his chiselled chest as he fucks you silly, almost as if it was payback for treating him like he was clueless. Did you really think he’d let you boss him around?

Choso’s leans down once again, mouth sucking and leaving marks all over your breasts as he feels himself coming to one of his many orgasms today— buckets of sweat glistening over his physique like a glossy finish.

You grab at his bicep, slapping it repeatedly to give him notice of your impending orgasm— Choso planting a wet kiss on your lips to quickly swallow the ‘O’ your mouth had formed.

He instantly slides his cock out of your hole, taking his length into his fist as he pumps himself slow. His fingers fan over your clit as he ushered you to orgasm and make a mess, so desperate to have you cum all over him. Alternating between sticking his middle and ring finger inside, Choso curls his digits up as he jerks his fingers inside of you.

Your head peers down to see his forearms flexing with his every move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; squelching noises coming from your pussy.

“Don’t…don’t do that-“ Your brows furrow, lips returning to its O shape as you attempted to hold his wrist as he continued to curl his fingers into you. He knew what he was doing. Choso wanted to make you squirt.

His pleas fucking your mind to an extent, it felt like a mixture of bliss and torture— your eyes struggling at this point to remain open.

“..Come on,” He urges, so needy as he strokes his cock as in-front of you as he watches how you unravel underneath him; Choso slapping his heavy length on your inner thigh whenever he has the chance. “Come on pretty, let go—“

“O-oh, Choso—“ You squeal, fingers reaching and scraping at his pelvis as he got back at you for fucking him up to overstimulation. Your nipples sore and perky, he had to resist the urge to suck on them again.

He spits out his words closely together, pressing his forehead against yours for the second time as you peered your eyes up into his.

“Come on, come on- that’s it,” Choso cooing at you as you released your juices all over his fingers, a sob could be heard from you as a hot flush rushes through your body.

His hand absolutely soaked as he pulls out, Choso nonchalantly wraps his mouth around his fingers, sucking on your slick— his saliva mixing in with the shining fluid that covered his hands.

Pulling you closer to his pelvis by hooking his two hands around your thighs, Choso slips himself back into your hole— your inner thighs soaking with juices.

A mutter of curses under his breath, Choso absolutely loved your warm walls taking his cock whole, his girthy length moving with ease due to the present slick.

Choso was on the verge of losing his mind once again as he realised that he literally got you to squirt less than a few seconds ago, his cock desperately throbbing all over again.

His cock fucks in and out of you, this time cautiously slow as he made sure not to cum inside of you— your clenching walls making it a difficult task for him.

Too sensitive, Choso pulls his cock out with haste, slapping his tip against your clit as he released his own load just outside of your pussy. His entire face flooded with rouge, cock profusely leaking; his grunts in synchronisation with his throbbing balls.

With the use of his tip, Choso pushes the load back into your hole, his cock completely stilling inside for the time being.

Your mind in a daze, you let out a sigh, Choso’s hand caressing up and down the side of your legs as he remained anchored between them.

“We literally just fucked off with the baking. Went and did a whole other cream pie…” You scoff, hanging your head off the sofa, an upside down view of your kitchen filling your vision— everything still left exactly how it was on the countertop.

Silently laughing, Choso takes your leg into his grasp, his head turning to the side as he plant a kiss on your calves. Bringing a hand down to your hole, he stuffs a digit or two in, scooping a few beads of his cum allowing it to coat his fingertips before moving his hand closer to your lips.

“..Milk delivery,” Choso chimes, mimicking his first words from outside your door earlier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 . all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not repost on a third party platform.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo x female reader #choso x reader

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lvandrskies · 4 months

Text

— 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 see,” is all he responds with, his own smile falling.

“Why did you not marry me?” You ask, voice wavering.

“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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g3tosugu · 4 months

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can’t get enough

wriothesley x f!reader

wc: 1.7k

cw: reader is neglecting their health, fainting and i think that's it, but please do tell me if i missed one!

synopsis: you pick up an extra shift at Cafe Lutece but, it proves to be too much on your body as you continue neglecting your needs and Wriothesley is there to figure out why.

a/n: eeek! first post hope u like it :3c i've never written genshin stuff before which is why this is kinda short lol so please forgive me if it's not that good!!

Picking up another shift at Cafe Lutece whilst you were in the middle of prepping and training to begin work at the Fortress of Meropide was probably not the best decision you have ever made in your life. You could have easily quit your job or asked for more leniency with your scheduling and Arouet would surely understand if you explained the situation you were in. The only issue with that was you didn't want to also put him in the tight spot of having to find a replacement, especially since the Cafe was already short staffed at the current time. And now, you have decided to overwork yourself more.

The place was absolutely jam packed with people. There was a pretty intensive trial that was held today and the people who attended were starving and eager to chat about the turnout of the trial over a meal. You're not sure why you set yourself up for disappointment when you convinced yourself it wouldn't be too busy because of the rain. Instead of being a nice regular 8 hour shift, you instead were met with a very busy and never ending 10 hour shift. When you arrived an hour earlier to the Cafe today you had no idea that extra hour of leisure time was going to be something that was so vital. Too late now. You finish your shift as efficiently as you possibly could with what little energy you had left in your system.

As you exited the building, you were met by Arouet who had been out saying his farewells to the final customers of the evening. "Thank you so much again for all your help today Y/n! I really don't know what I would have done without you" he thanked you with a warm smile. You tried your best to muster a more enthusiastic response, but all you could bring yourself to do is give him a tired smile and say "Don't worry about it, boss. It's my pleasure to help you as you have helped me by giving me this job".

When you moved to Fontaine from your home of Monstadt you didn't have anything. Sure, you had your bag you had packed with things of sentimental value and some clothing but, that was it. You couldn't even bring mora with you because you had none to your name due to never having to work back in Monstadt. Your family had always taken care of you. So when you were telling them about you moving so far away, they tried to give you basic starter funds but you declined. You even lied and told them you had some mora saved from doing favors and chores for other people (usually older people) just so they wouldn't worry further. With your lack of job experience and no funds or place to go, Arouet saw how determined you were to make the most out of your situation and decided to give you a job as a waitress.

Arouet studied your face for a moment before giving a sympathetic smile. "You look like you could use a nice relaxing evening and you deserve it. Go home and be safe and please take the day off tomorrow" he gently patted your shoulder. The sudden contact and thought that you get a whole day off the next day made you perk up a little more, "Oh, thank you so much, boss! I will and same to you as well, of course. I just have somewhere to stop and then I will go home for the night".

The first few times you entered the Fortress of Meropide it was a very nerve wracking experience. You had no idea if it was a rowdy and rugged environment or a serious and strict one. But, you soon realized it wasn't as horrific and terrible as you initially thought it would be. Regardless, it was still to be considered a dangerous environment. Thankfully, with Wriothesley around, you never felt like you needed to worry.

As the guards walked you up to the large metal doors to the Duke's office, you heard a familiar voice call out to you from the cafeteria area. "Y/n! Wait!" she ran up to you enthusiastically. "Hello Sigewinne" you patted the half Melusine girl on the head and smiled at her. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you were stopping by since you seemed to be working late" she smiled up at you, but everything started to feel fuzzy. Your eyelids became harder to keep open, your vision was going in and out of focus and you started seeing spots. "Y/n?" Sigewinne called out to you, worried by your lack of response and the way you were looking physically. Before you could give her the reassurance you so desperately wanted to, you collapsed to the ground.

"Y/n! Oh no..." Sigewinne quickly walked to your side and began trying to rouse you awake. The guards that were with you quickly clamored around you to protect you from any onlookers. In the midst of the sudden event, the loud metal doors to the Dukes office opened and out came Wriothesley. "What's all the commotion out here about?", his eyes searched for just a split second before they landed on Sigewinne standing over your unconscious form with a very troubled look on her face. "Everyone move" Wriothesley ordered the guards and they immediately met his demand in return. He quickly knelt down and picked you up bridal style and started carrying you towards his office. "Wait! We need to take her to the infirmary so I can perform a proper check up!" Sigewinne tried to stop him. "You can treat her in here can't you? I don't want her out here. I want to be able to keep an eye on her" his gaze was serious and his jaw was set. He was clearly fully intent on doing this, so Sigewinne just sighed and nodded in response as she followed him into his office.

Your eyes fluttered open and you searched around your environment to try and decipher where you had ended up. Wriothesley's office. "You're awake?" you heard Wriothesley rise from his chair and walk around his desk. You slowly began to sit up and when your eyes met his, you looked away in embarrassment. You knew Sigewinne checked your condition and told him you were neglecting your needs. You had hardly eaten and you weren't sleeping a full night's rest for the past week. His eyes said it all to you. He was disappointed.

After a moment of you avoiding looking at him while also feeling his own gaze piercing right through you, you sighed. "You're disappointed in me" you looked down at your hands in your lap. "Disappointed?" his face had confusion present on it but, you fail to see it as you are still too afraid to look him in the eyes. "Oh no, I've probably frightened Sigewinne terribly, I should go show her I'm alright" you try to quickly excuse yourself from the situation. "I don't think so" Wriothesley firmly but gently grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him so he could swiftly lift you onto his desk, his palms planted firmly on the desk at your sides, effectively caging you in. You're still looking away from him. "Come on sweetheart, look at me. Please?" his voice soft in a way to show you that he isn't upset with you.

You slowly raised your head and finally met his eyes. He looked at you in a way that made you feel like you were the answer to all problems in the world. Like you were something precious and sacred. "There she is" he smiled warmly. The smile you gave in response wasn't one the same warmth in return, it was an apologetic one. "You've been overworking yourself, haven't you?" he tried to coax you to explain yourself. You nodded, "I took an extra shift at Cafe Lutece today while I've been prepping to become a nurse here". "Oh? You're going to be working here? How was I not made aware of this?" he asked as he finally moved away from you to fold his arms across his chest.

The guilty expression on your face made him let out a soft, "Y/n...". "I told Monsieur Neuvillette to keep it a secret because I was afraid you wouldn't allow me to pursue it" you admitted. "I see" he nodded and sighed. "Well, I just want to say first and foremost" he moved toward you again and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head, "I'm not disappointed in you. Not for what happened today or for keeping this secret from me" he reassured. "I also want you to know that you can do whatever you want. I don't ever want you to consider my own thoughts if you are going to put them above your own. At that point my feelings don't entirely matter do they? You are free to do as you please" he gently lifted your chin with his hand so you could look at him again.

"Besides, you act like I wouldn't want to see this gorgeous face everytime I come into work" he grinned as he removed his hand from your chin. You smiled the first genuine happy smile all day. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to be a nurse down here?" he asked as he took your hand in his to help you steadily hop down from his desk. "Well, I would love to work with Sigewinne of course. You know I adore her and I know she could teach me a lot of things. Her point of view in life is always so fascinating and wonderful to me as well" you went on to explain. As you went on, Wriothesley just had the most lovesick expression plastered on his face and you made note of it. "And don't act like I don't want to see your gorgeous face everyday when I come to work" you use his own words on him with a grin. He chuckled and shook his head "You're a very dangerous woman". "Hmm, maybe I've just been around you too much" you joke. Instead of laughing in response with you, he pulled you against him by your waist. "I don't know about you, but you could never be around me too much" his eyes studied every detail of your face, "No, matter of fact. I can't get enough of you sweetheart".

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff

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explorevenus · 1 year

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something permanent, pt. 2 ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors pls pls pls dni!!! i’m so for serious rn

find pt. 1 here! ♡

find pt. 3 here! ♡

reminder that this is a dark fic!! if any of the following bothers you, do not read: yandere!leon kennedy, kidnapping, manipulation, corruption/training, stockholm syndrome, forced daddy kink, forced breeding

word count - 3.9k

description - darling wakes up in the infirmary, all patched up after the events of pt. 1 -- upon her return home, leon and darling get to know and trust each other better... sort of. ((no smut in this one i’m sorry but i’m way too invested in this now so i’m Lore Building))

tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, kidnapping, medical stuff (no blood/gore this time tho), implied onset stockholm syndrome, forced daddy kink, pet names (princess, doll, sweetheart, etc.), dollification if u squint, leon is much sweeter in this one (he’s still deranged tho), a healthy dose of angst, darling misses her friends and family

a/n - AHHHHH i’m so glad y’all are liking this and want more of it. i was so honestly convinced i was going to get shunned for this. anyway enjoy some bonding time between leon and darling. it’s a little refreshing but it also doesn’t mean the deranged shit is over lololol. p.s. my ask box is aggressively open for business on ideas for this series. i love riffing w/ y’all about yandere leon, it’s my life blood, so don’t be shy ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

taglist - @dollrxst @ifeelikeflying @nexyswrites @idekman111

fic below the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy !! ♡

- venus ♡

When you awoke again, you certainly felt much better. Refreshed, almost, if it weren't for the way the lights stung your eyes. The agonizing pain between your legs that was the last thing you remembered before you lost consciousness had subsided into a dull ache.

You reached up to rub the sleep from your eyes and properly observe your surroundings, quick to take notice of the IV line embedded in the back of your right hand. You blinked, looking around the room-- it was white and sterile, it certainly looked like a hospital but remembering the phone call Leon had in the car, you knew it wasn't exactly that. Even so, you were in a papery gown, laid on papery sheets, and an analog clock menacingly ticked away high up on the wall.

You were quick to sit up at the sound of distant footsteps growing nearer to the door-- the time you'd spent in Leon's "care" had kept you especially aware of the sound-- and as your dreary, horrified eyes locked on to the door you heard the beeps of your heartbeat monitor gain speed.

The heavy door swung open to reveal a doctor you weren't familiar with, and Leon was closely behind him. The doctor took in the sight of you awake with a content smile and piped up, "Ahh, there you are! Feeling better?"

Your mouth was dry. You nodded stiffly, shrinking toward the wall as if you could get any further away from them.

Leon shook his head and chided, "Words, princess. Be polite."

You swallowed nothing. "Y-Yes, doctor, I'm feeling better. Thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it," The doctor replied, checking over your vitals on the monitor to the left of your bed, absently marking down his findings on paper. "How about mentally?"

You blinked. "W-What?"

"Mentally," He repeated. "Leon told me what brought you here. Do you still feel you might be a danger to yourself?"

Mouth agape, eyes wide, you glanced over at Leon who gave you a cold look, no doubt in an attempt to remind you what you'd agreed upon before he brought you here.

You looked back to the doctor. "I'm sorry, what exactly did Leon tell you?"

"Do you not remember?" The doctor asked. "You lost quite a lot of blood, so memory loss is not uncommon in these scenarios. Why don't I step out for a few and let you chat while I check over your charts?"

Your eyes widened even further in a look that begged him not to leave you alone with Leon, but it didn't matter. Almost immediately, Leon told the doctor that sounded like a good idea and walked him to the door.

As soon as it swung shut, you piped up, "Leon, what did you say?"

He shrugged dismissively. "I said you had a breakdown while I was at work and I came home to you covered in blood."

It sounded... absurd. Even more absurd upon realizing that a real life medical doctor accepted that excuse. You scoffed. "Are you serious? You told the doctor I threw a fit for no reason and ripped my IUD out and he believed you?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't," He said smugly as he sat at the edge of the bed, taking hold of your hand. "There's a lot you don't know about me, doll. What I say definitely goes around here."

"Oh," You replied in a near whisper, swallowing dryly. "That's... nice."

The room went quiet and suddenly the air felt heavy. If you didn't feel fucked before you definitely felt fucked now. You reached weakly for the water bottle on the table beside you, but as soon as he noticed what you were reaching for he was quick to spring up from where he sat to grab it for you.

"I've got it, baby," He hummed, smoothing your hair out of your face as he perched the straw up to your mouth. "Don't overexert yourself, now."

As if I even could fucking overexert myself with the monumental task of grabbing a water bottle, you thought, casting your gaze to the floor as you sipped idly through the straw. Even facing away from him you could feel his cobalt eyes boring into you, burning holes in your skin. You nearly shivered, but suppressed it.

Soon after, the door opened and the doctor returned. "All caught up, you two?" He asked jovially.

"Uh, y-yes, thank you," You forced a smile.

"Good," He hummed. "You should be alright to head home now. I've prescribed some antibiotics for you to take as a precaution. We don't want you getting infected-- it could lead to infertility."

Is that so? You thought, clenching your jaw. "Infertility?" You asked.

"Yes, unfortunately. Leon told me you two are trying, so I figured we should play things on the safe side," He said.

You felt Leon's grip on your hand tighten. The word alone clearly stressed him out.

"That being said," The doctor continued, "I would advise you to avoid sex for at least six weeks. There was some trauma to the cervix that's going to need time to heal, and again, we don't want to risk infection."

Leon's grip was nearly crushing the bones in your hand and even so, you couldn't help but crack a little smile. "You're absolutely right. We wouldn't want to risk anything, right, Leon?"

"Right," He agreed stiffly.

Those six weeks couldn't have possibly passed slower for Leon. He couldn't stop hating himself for what he'd done to you, putting you in so much pain, putting you at such high risk. He couldn't help but beat himself up over it.

He chose to bide his time by doting on his darling relentlessly, even more than usual. He took that entire first week off of work just so he could keep an eye on you at all hours of the day. Any little wince was met quickly with ibuprofen and a hot water bottle. He set an alarm on his phone to make sure you took your antibiotics at the same time every night. He was even more adamant about ensuring you were eating and sleeping enough. When he caught you getting restless, he would take you on little drives around the neighborhood.

The inability to have sex for six weeks left a lot of time for talking, something he hadn't realized he so sorely needed until he didn't have a choice. He did want to get to know you on your terms, to understand the intricacies of your life and the way your brain worked. Truthfully, he wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

That way, he could better understand what you really needed.

"Le-" You caught yourself, clearing your throat before starting again. "D-Daddy, can I ask you something?"

The blonde smiled softly, cupping your chin as you laid in bed together. He was spooning you tightly and some random crime show was playing softly from the TV, but you weren't convinced either of you were really paying attention to it. You could feel his eyes glued to you the entire time.

"Of course, princess. What's on your mind, hm?"

You swallowed nervously, looking down at the floor. "Am I... am I missing?"

"What do you mean?" He tilted his head.

"Like... my family, my friends. Are they looking for me?" You asked.

He shrugged. "You don't have to worry about that, honey. I have the resources to make that sort of thing go away."

Tears rimmed your eyes, but you didn't show it. You took a deep, controlled breath before nodding, "Oh... okay."

A few beats of silence passed, and you nearly gave it up, but you couldn't help but pry further.

"Y-You didn't really answer the question, though," You said quietly. "Are they looking for me?"

"What does it matter?" He tightened his arm around your waist, nibbling at your ear, "You're safe with me. I intend to give you everything you'll ever need. That's no one else's business but ours."

You didn't think he realized he'd given you the answer without saying it explicitly. Your chest wound up into a knot, your stomach dropping. You couldn't stop thinking about how awful your loved ones must feel, begging for answers to your disappearance only to be met with doors slammed in their faces because Leon somehow managed to keep everything and everyone under his thumb.

Including you.

An image flooded your brain of your little apartment collecting dust as your closest friends and family entered with their keys to find everything exactly as you'd left it. You could see them all wandering your space, trying not to touch anything, scouring every inch for clues and perhaps realizing how much of your things were missing. Would they think you left on your own accord? Would they give up when they realized the authorities wouldn't help them?

Had they given up already?

The dam broke and you couldn't suppress your feelings any longer. You began to weep, tears spilling out over your cheeks as you involuntarily curled back into Leon's warm chest for some semblance of comfort. In your defense, he was pretty good at providing it, and at times like this it was just easier to give in.

He shushed you softly, petting your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses to your temple. "I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay. Just let it out."

Something about him telling you to let it out made you really let it out. Your eyes screwed shut and you began to bawl, gripping his strong forearms to pull him closer as if he could possibly do so-- you were practically tangled around each other. You shifted your hips and turned over in his arms, burying yourself in his broad, bare chest, wetting his smooth skin with your anguish. He didn't care, he just held you tight and rubbed your back, whispering sweet praises and comforting affirmations into the crown of your hair.

"You're okay, princess. You're alright," He spoke lowly, lips brushing softly over the top of your head. He smelled so good, like cedarwood body wash, like fresh aftershave, like protection. "Poor baby. I know it hurts, but you've been such a good girl for me. Such a brave, sweet girl."

You went truly boneless, melting into his warmth, gripping him close like he'd just disappear if you let go. The irony was not lost on you-- you knew it was wrong to bask in his affection, to cry for comfort from the man who'd caused all your problems to begin with, but what choice did you have? You spent so much of your days alone now that you were starting to get sick of yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy. Every morning he would leave for work and you would feel some kind of relief for maybe an hour or two before you found yourself missing him. Longing for someone to talk to, someone to hold you and kiss you and just be in your presence. Longing for the way he'd play with your hair and rub your back, dote on your every need, even the way he'd mark up your body with his teeth. 6:00 p.m. would roll around and you'd find yourself restlessly pacing the room, glancing over at the door, pressing your ear up against it to listen, gazing out the locked window to search for his car.

When he'd walk in you'd try really hard to pretend like you weren't so eagerly waiting for him, but you think he was starting to catch on to your lowered guard. It almost seemed like in return, his guard was lowering as well. He still remained vigilant about keeping the doors and windows locked when he wasn't home, but every now and then he would take you out into the living room, let you hang out in the kitchen while he cooked for you, let you sit by the sliding glass door to sunbathe and gaze into the backyard.

The strangest part of it all was you didn't really feel inclined to take advantage of his leniency. He kept his eyes on you at all times, so it's not like you had much of a chance to misbehave even if you wanted to, but knowing deep down that Leon had his resources and his ways of being able to track you down if you were to disappear made the prospect of escape that much less enticing.

In fact, making a break for it was starting to feel more dangerous and scary than just staying put.

Leon's voice, a low whisper, broke you out of your hazy confliction. "What do you need, puppy? What can I do to make you feel better, huh?"

"J-Jus' want daddy," You sniffled, haze settled over your brain, body aching and trembling with upset.

"You've got me. I'm right here, pup," He soothed, swiping your tears away from your reddened cheeks. "Poor baby... I'm right here."

It wasn't long before his hushed reassurances and gentle touch, coupled with the pure exhaustion of crying, lulled you into a deeper sleep than you had had since day one.

When you woke up the next morning you felt... weird, to say the least. After having cried it out your brain was much clearer now, and with that came the sickening realization of what you'd let happen last night. After all, from the second your tired eyes pried open, the first thing you noticed was Leon's arms still wrapped tightly around you. Suddenly you felt nauseous, disgusted with yourself.

You laid still as stone in his hold, trying your hardest not to move in fear of waking him. Perhaps last night you couldn't stand the thought of being alone with your thoughts but now you felt that was all you needed. You casted your eyes to the alarm clock next to the bed-- it was 5:45 a.m. 15 minutes until Leon's alarm would go off and he would have to get up, get ready and leave for work. Then you would truly be alone.

You couldn't pry your eyes away from the glowing red numbers, seconds stretching into what felt like hours as you waited impatiently for the alarm to sound. Your eyes dried and went sore before you remembered you needed to blink.

The soft peachy sunlight peeking in through the window would have been quite pleasant in any other circumstance. These days, it just came as a sore reminder of the time you'd lost locked in a psychopath's bedroom 24 hours a day. You thought of how nice it felt every now and then when he would let you accompany him to other areas of the house, and how much nicer it would be if you could just leave whenever you wanted. How nice it would feel to have that peachy sunrise beam directly on your skin. How nice it would feel to have grass between your toes, to drive a car again, to go to a restaurant.

With that reality just on the other side of the glass, it was as if the universe was laughing in your face. Dangling what you needed right in front of you and telling you that you couldn't have it. You might have started crying again if you hadn't drained yourself dry last night.

It suddenly dawned on you that if you had any sort of chance of escape, now would be the time. The likelihood of you being pregnant was incredibly slim, given recent events, and he trusted you more than ever by now. You weren't sure how you were going to pull it off, but you didn't have any choice but to try.

Your brain melded into a mush of ideas-- you could try the window, but the bedroom was on the second floor and it wouldn't be much use trying to jump out if you were just going to break your legs on the way down and have him find you that way upon his return home. You had tried jamming the lock on the door before and he'd caught you every time. There was no way he wouldn't catch you trying it now.

Your burning eyes trailed away from the alarm clock-- 5:53 a.m.-- and began to wander the room. Although there wasn't an inch of it you hadn't explored by now, you couldn't help but think there had to be something you could use to take the doorknob off. Anything even remotely resembling a screwdriver would be worth a try. Of course Leon wasn't stupid enough to leave tools lying around for you to play with, but perhaps you could find a viable work-around in something otherwise mundane. A nail file, a coin, tweezers, anything.

You were also painfully aware of how easy it might be for him to find you once you'd escaped, if you could escape. If you had any hope of getting the fuck out of town and hiding out, you would have to get to your apartment first, where your wallet was probably still collecting dust on your bedside table. If you could scrape up enough cash to catch a train or a Greyhound bus, you could be states away before he even got off work. Despite the nagging voice in the back of your head screaming this is a bad idea, all you could think about was how much it would be worth the risk if you managed to pull it off.

If I could manage to get the doorknob off, maybe I can get through the front door, too, and if not, maybe I could smash the sliding glass wi--

The alarm clock began screeching, signaling the start of Leon's day and reminding me you that you were supposed to be pretending to sleep. You screwed your eyes shut and shuffled around in his arms at the noise like you usually would, not wanting to arouse any suspicion that you weren't really sleeping.

Apparently, that wasn't sufficient.

"How long have you been awake, sweetheart?"

The first words out of his mouth. Fuck.

You shrugged innocently. "I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so."

He reached over you to shut off the alarm, tucking your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek and look into your eyes. "Hmm. Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah, I slept pretty well, actually," You replied, looking right back into his own cobalt eyes as if to sell what you were saying even further. "I must be sleeping on your schedule now."

"Must be," He hummed, leaning in to lazily kiss your forehead.

It was a normal response, and maybe you were just being paranoid, but something about the tone in his voice made you feel like he didn't really believe you. You tried as hard as you could to force yourself not to react. You couldn't risk making him suspicious of you when you wholly planned on executing your escape today.

The two of you laid in silence for a few minutes, not atypical for him to want to snuggle for a while in the mornings, but eventually he really had to get out of bed and take a shower. Leon gave you a quick peck on the lips before disentangling himself from you, slinking out from beneath the covers and heading to the bathroom to wash up for the day.

You only really felt safe again once you heard the water running, letting out a deep, labored breath you hadn't realized was stuck deep inside your lungs.

Still, you had a job to do for now, and that job was acting normal.

You rose from the bed, turning on the lights and perusing the closet for something to wear. For the first few weeks you were there, Leon would return home for the day with more and more of your belongings, including clothes, and you had deduced it was because he was gradually moving your entire life into his bedroom. That being said, it was sort of nice to at least be surrounded by your own things and able to wear your own clothes.

Settling on a soft sweater and leggings, you gathered your outfit from where the items were neatly folded and began dressing yourself. On Leon's days off he preferred to pick your clothes out for you-- and dress you himself-- but on days like today when he had to get to work and wasted too much time cradling you in bed, he just didn't have the time, which was sort of a relief.

Once you were dressed you sat at the edge of the bed, turning on the TV to click through random channels. It was nice to have a glimpse into the outside world every now and again. You passed by a blur of morning cartoons, tabloid talk shows and sports recaps in search of a cooking show or a documentary or something, but as you flipped through the channels you saw a familiar face and nearly passed out. You quickly switched back to the news channel.

"--friends and family allege authorities have been no help in the search for the missing girl, leaving them to take matters into their own hands. Concerned loved ones have searched the vacant apartment for clues, attempted to track her devices and have left missing posters all over the city, each and every one, they say, has vanished within hours..."

Your heart sank deeply into your stomach. Tears welled up in your eyes. The fire to escape roared even louder within you. You had to put your hand over your mouth to quiet yourself as you began to cry.

The familiar face on the screen was you.

The image quickly switched over from your face to footage of your distraught friends and family speaking through tears.

"We don't know what's going on, if this is a cover-up or just negligent policing. All we want is answers to what happened to her. She was never the type to up and leave without saying a word. If she's out there somewhere hearing this, we want her to know that all we want is for her to come home. We hope she's safe, wherever she is, and on the off-chance she really did leave on her own, we just want to know why--"

The sound of the shower water shutting off jolted you back into focus. You hurriedly changed the channel back to the cartoons and wiped the tears off your face with lightning speed. Try as you might to relax, you knew you were still stiff, but you needed to compose yourself.

The bathroom door opened, warm steam rolling out in his wake as Leon re-entered the room in nothing but a towel hung low on his waist, water droplets peppering his alabaster skin.

"Cartoons this morning, huh?" He asked, smooching the crown of your head.

You shrugged apathetically. "Couldn't find anything better to watch, I guess."

He got dressed and gathered his things, keys jangling in his large hand as he gave you another kiss on the lips and took ahold of your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Have a good day, princess," He said. "Behave yourself for me, okay?"

There was definitely something in his tone that indicated he knew something you didn't. You nodded hesitantly.

"O-Okay, daddy, I will."

"Good girl," He said flatly, squeezing your jaw just a little bit, almost like a show of power, before walking out the door with a distinct click of the lock behind him.

Maybe you wouldn't be escaping today after all.

find part 3 here! ♡

#venustext #sintext #emotext #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy x reader #something permanent

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yandere-sins · 11 months

Text

The Orcas' Tale - Chapter I

Excited to finally start! I haven't written in a while so I felt a little rusty, but I still hope I was able to convey the conflicting feelings that come with meeting these creatures ♥ Enjoy! (Please remember that the polls are only active for a day!)

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Violence & Accidental self-harm, Non-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con/killing of animals/near drowning, Long post

"In fact, you don't want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!"

Straining yourself, you tried to hear what the voice was telling you. A sudden waft of nausea overcame you as you concentrated hard on making out those last, vital words. Your eyes snapped open as pressure squeezed your brain inside your skull, and you barely had time to gasp as your body instinctively threw itself to the side, choking and spitting out water from your lungs and stomach.

Through your blurry vision, you could only see gray. Feeling hadn't returned to your hands to notice the little gravel digging into your palm as you clawed at the stone surface, trying to find hold in your disorientation. Slowly, with every cough you made, the pressure on your head subsided, leaving only a pounding headache and your fight or flight instinct in control of your body while you freed yourself of the wretched water inside the spaces it didn't belong. That was until you finally regained the feeling in your body. The pebbles pressing into your skin, threatening to break it.

The hands on your body, holding you steady.

"This was a stupid idea," an eerily familiar voice sighed, the pressure on your stomach and lower back intensifying. Confused and disorientated, you rocked your head from side to side, trying to see. Trying to find the voice that was different from the one you heard before opening your eyes. But your vision was still blurry, and you couldn't make out anything, even with splashes of color passing your view.

"It's not stupid just because we have never tried it before," someone else, someone you already knew, hissed, and you tried to remember who it was to no avail. A hand on your collarbones, fingers spreading all over your chest, didn't lock your movements but didn't allow you to fall over either, as they kept you slightly elevated.

"W-Who…" you sputtered, followed by another cough, another spill of water coming from who-knows-where inside you.

"Urgh, well, it's alive, at least…"

Pressure on your ribs made you fall back on your legs, sitting upright. You were swaying back and forth, worse than you ever had on the ship that transported you out on the North Pacific Ocean for your studies… Right… You'd been working out on the ocean, and then something happened. You couldn't get back to the boat, and they didn't do a headcount before leaving. You'd been left there. For how long? Gulping down spit or water—not sure what was in your mouth at that point—you tried to remember, but your memory was as blurred as your vision.

Did your crew come back? Were they the ones helping you back to your feet? You should thank them. Had they left you at the mercy of the ocean, who knows if you could have made it long. As much as you loved the deep, blue waters, they were just as risky and unpredictable as any other nature-related job. Accidents happened, and you weren't mad you were left behind, but you were still thankful they came back and saved you.

Slowly, taking the time to adjust yourself, you turned around, the hands allowing you the room to move as you pleased while they stayed ready on standby if you fell. Focusing your eyes was still hard. The space you were in dimly lit and unfamiliar. But when you lifted your head, squinting your eyes as hard as possible, you could finally concentrate on what was ahead of you.

Instantly, a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your fight or flight mode was still intact as you jumped back from your position, your body slamming into a cold and hard wall of something, your headache briefly making space for other pain before returning full force. You didn't know what to expect, but you expected the familiarity of your kind. Human faces, human bodies, humans.

These were not humans.

It needed the extra blow to your head to jump-start your memories. Memories of the little orange boat you had been stranded on, of unknown voices speaking to you, promising the help you desperately needed. Uncanny figures that intrigued you and eventually lured you to the edge, claws that dug into your clothes as they pulled you where the light couldn't reach. A tongue down your throat that helped you breathe and then… darkness.

That's right, at the cusp between life and death, you had simply passed out, completely at the mercy of these creatures that now reared out of the water, hands and claws reaching for you from all sides. There was no escaping them, no way out, their black skin glistening in the blue light coming from the walls being the only thing discerning them from the shadows around you. All you could do was close your eyes and wish to wake up. Realize this was a bad dream on a dreadful night. Wake up from it, realizing you left the TV on when you fell asleep, subconsciously listening to horror movies. None of this was real.

But when the hands wrapped around your ankles, wrists, and shoulders, claws too close to your throat to not fear them slicing it open, webbed fingers both sticky and slick, you realized this was not a dream you could wake up from. Not a nightmare to banish once you opened your eyes again. This was reality.

It took you a moment to regain this clarity of mind, the hands lifting you away from the hard surface you had slammed into and setting you down on something soft, the fabric almost slippery. They wouldn't let go until you opened your eyes, staring at your left hand as you let it slide through the fur beneath you, knowing the feeling well enough to discern it. "Seal…" you muttered, the softness of it astonishing you at that moment. All the horrors your mind could imagine disappeared with the gentleness and warmth you felt around you, sitting on such precious fur. It soothed some of the shock and weariness that kept you tense and on alert.

"The human likes it," someone cooed, the voice giddy as you heard water splashing alongside it. That finally snapped you back to reality and the situation you were in. Gulping once again, at least there was no more water clogging your throat and airways. Realizing that helped to gain the courage to look up, straight ahead at curious eyes watching you, leaning on the ledge you were seated on, giant bodies hidden halfway inside a pool of water. Every jolt of their muscles caused a small wave to splash against the others next to them, but they didn't mind. Why would they?

Mermaids.

You remembered it now all too clearly—their voices, faces, actions. Knowing folklore tales as much as any other human but always denying them to your scientifically driven mind, it was almost laughable you fell for their lures, their promises of help. It was true your options were limited, but it felt like you betrayed yourself by still believing them. Then again, that was the whole thing about mermaids, wasn't it? They were able to lure in even the most experienced and resistant of humans at their whim, to kill and eat them. However, dwelling on your idiocy and not concentrating on the situation at hand wasn't going to help you now, either.

Watching them for a few seconds, you jumped from their faces one after the other. Orcas, they called themselves, and strangely enough, they looked like it. Like a weird mix of a human and an orca, but you could still see both parts in them and discern either part at a glance. The markings in black and white of an orca, the face and body like a human. Muscles just like a professional athlete, but a tail hidden from sight that you were sure would be exactly like that of an orca. They were decorated in adornments that allowed one to believe they had the same aesthetic needs as humans. Still, their sharp teeth lurked behind their lips, and their fingers ended in claws that reminded you there was just as much animal in this mix.

Looking away was dangerous but necessary, and luckily, as your gaze panned around the room, they only ever seemed to lean further over the edge, trying to see what you saw, before sinking deeper into the cool water again, wary of your gaze falling on them. Either way, you appreciated their discretion, despite hearing their little clicks and whistles at each other echoing through the space. It wasn't a small room, cave-like and branching off into more carved-out areas filled to the brim with things. But if you remembered the size of these creatures right, they'd have to squeeze together if they all wanted to come sit on the same ledge as you. You found the room to be made of hard, solid stone, a blue, bioluminescent shine of a climbing plant with little bulbous blooms on it, illuminating the cave sparsely as it spread on the cave walls. Part of you would have loved to study this growth, but it wasn't the right time.

Beneath you was the seal fur, and you tried to ignore the gruesome acts you knew orcas did to these creatures, thanking it silently for softening the spot you sat on. But now that you had time to look at the splashes of color from before, you noticed they were fabrics hung from the walls. Sails and flags mingled with more furs. Crates, both wood and metal, some more decayed than others, stood off to the side, but you also spotted some out-of-place items like golden goblets and jewels strewn about.

"Where… Where are we?" you asked warily, feeling a sense of dread as you couldn't find a discernable exit or connection to the outside, like a window or door. You had a bad feeling about this, but at this point, it came as no surprise that this situation didn't seem to get better even after you accepted this as reality.

"In our–"

"Home!"

"This is our cave!"

It was a desynchronized answer, but it did the trick. Though that didn't explain where exactly you were, just their connection to this place. Still, scanning the ledge you sat on, you found three sections laid out with fabrics and furs, the stone ground creating gaps between them. Considering the size of these creatures, it might be a squeeze for all of them to fit, but it did look like the three had their beds laid out.

The sound of excessive splashing made your head whip forward, the merman in the middle lifting himself out of the water and on top of the ledge. It was the first good look you got at any of their bodies, and you had been correct with all your assumptions about them. He had to crawl on his hands to get the massive part of his upper tail over the edge, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it looked almost like a natural movement as he put himself in a seated position. You were already cowering backwards, not needing to accommodate the creature, but feeling less safe now that it was out of the water.

But before you knew it, his hand reached for your ankle.

The feeling of having to cave in to someone else's demands was terrifying, choking you with fear of the unknown especially considering it was a monster you were dealing with. But even without you trying to scoot away, your leg was painfully stretched as the merman began pulling you back closer toward him. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. You were surprised about the concern he voiced, thinking about how contradictory it was to be given kind thoughts while you felt like prey in their eyes.

"Yeah…" you mumbled, twisting your ankle carefully, inconspicuously, hoping he might be enticed to let go. Instead, this seemed to have been the magic word, the orca on the right jumping out of the water with much more force and less elegance than the one in the middle, landing belly down on the ledge and immediately reaching for your arm. "Finally!" he rejoiced, squeezing and pulling at your underarm, both actions reckless and painful. Now you had two limbs of yours being yanked, and the gaze you shot the last merman of the three was almost panicked as he sat up on the ledge as well, back facing you, but his eyes on your free left leg. With a careful hand, he let his fingers graze over your skin, jolting away as goosebumps spread in the wake of his touch.

Their hands were a horror in themselves. Webbed fingers sticking to you and yet sliding up and down your skin, unable to find hold unless pressure was applied. These creatures had no sense of gentleness, probably used to very different forms of touches and holding than a soft, easily breakable human like you needed. Their curiosity was their drive, but it made you feel sick the longer their touch remained. Occasionally, they'd coo or chortle in awe while all you could concentrate on was trying to soothe the sore muscles inside you by adjusting and twisting your body to accommodate their hands.

Even though you were intimidated by just looking at them, fear clawing at you almost as much as their hands did, you decided enough was enough. While they were stronger than you, you had the advantage of knowledge. If they were any bit as much orca as they said they were, they probably had the attitude of their animal counterpart, making them believe they were above everything. But they weren't above the element of surprise.

So when you were sure they were mesmerized by your meager body compared to theirs—the third merman even back to prodding at your leg after being startled by the goosebumps—you took a deep breath and then pulled. Pulled as hard and fast as you could, very much aware that if they weren't sufficiently distracted, their reflexes would probably have dismembered you. Luckily, you were able to get away even as their claws snapped after you, your eyes meeting that of the middle merman briefly as you scrambled to your feet, backing away until you found a wall to steady you. Your knees were shaking, but after a few milliseconds, the merman suddenly gripped a shoulder of each of the ones next to him, his claws visibly digging into their bodies. The others snapped out of their reflex just barely after the middle one, looking at him instead.

"No fun," the one on the right groaned, sinking back into the pool of water. "What good is it if we can't play with it?"

His eyes appraised you briefly, a displeased expression weaved onto his face, turning into a snarl when you met his gaze. "I thought you found us interesting, no?"

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, but contrary to what you remembered, no tracker was punched into it; only a gaping hole remained. And yet, you immediately understood what he was trying to say. This was way worse than you thought, as you realized they used their leverage of maybe being able to tell you how to get back to land to make you do what they wanted, no matter what that meant for you.

"Don't you want to go home?" the merman teased, a smug grin revealing the rows of sharp teeth behind his lips and confirming your realization. It was terrifying but even more so frustrating. Swallowing hard, you tried to find some reasons with the other two, but while one had now fully turned his back to you, the other seemed just as displeased as the one in the water.

"Maybe we should just eat them," the one in the middle pouted. Your mouth almost fell open seeing this creature actively avoiding your eyes, crossing his arms, and pursing his lips in a pout. All just because you refused whatever they were trying to do? How could they not understand that their actions might be wrong? You had never seen a grown man pout in your life, but you couldn't decide if it was worse on this creature or on a man of your own kind.

"What do you think, Nerrocan?"

For the first time ever since you met them, you heard one of them being addressed directly. The merman in the middle looked at the one who sat with his back to you, and you took a moment to appraise his form. Broad shoulders, coated with black hairs that reached below the shoulder blades but did nothing to hide the monstrous amount of muscles weaving under his skin. A dorsal fin stuck out from where his human spine must have transitioned to the fish one, and you caught yourself almost reaching out to touch it, confirming the strangeness of this lifeform. It was curiosity more than a reflex, but both were dangerous down here, locked with these strange creatures.

"Nerrocan…" you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop. Their white ears perked up, glances snapping to you from the corners of their eyes and over their shoulders. They seemed less alert than surprised, but you clasped your hand over your mouth anyway, feeling as if you were the rude one for speaking so casually to someone you didn't know. Slightly embarrassed, you caught Nerrocan's gaze, looking away before he could, but you scolded yourself for the mishap, missing the shine he had in his eyes as you called out to him.

You expected some reaction. Cruelty packed into words by Nerrocan that would give the other two the 'go' to do what they planned with you. Or maybe a verbal lashing for daring to speak to him. Perhaps even some hope as he held the other's back, making the unknown threat you felt from them disappear. From the looks of it, he was just as fearsome as the others but showed less interest in you than his fellow mermen. It was hard to understand how different lifeforms thought, but you had still hoped to be able to communicate with them on the same level as with any other sane human being, even just for the sake of the similarities between you two. But you were wrong.

Nerrocan said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulders slightly, barely visible in the dark. More than half of his body was coated black, so it was no surprise you couldn't see it move much, only when the blue light shone on it. However, you did catch the glance he threw back over his shoulder at you, and you wondered if he understood the devastation you felt visibly on your face. All hope shattered.

"Nerrocan, you're so fucking boring. Can't you go along with what we want to do just once?" the merman on the right complained, his words a sharp sound, somewhere between hissing and lilting.

"Shut up, Lyr," the one in the middle ordered, and for a moment, you could see the merman named Lyr snap his teeth at him like a beast warning another. However, when the middle one lifted his hand—presumably to hit the one on the right— Lyr scooted away and out of reach. Before you knew it, Nerrocan vanished in the water, and you watched as Lyr scanned the pool below him before hissing and slipping out of sight. You had a feeling that something must have been going on that you couldn't see, but you knew better as to go and look where they had gone.

Especially with one still remaining.

The merman took a deep breath, breathing out before giving you a—what you could assume was meant as a mood-lifting but came out as a terrifying, mocking—smile. "Look, we don't want to eat you. But we hoped you were a bit more… fun."

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean…" you mumbled, pressing yourself more to the wall as the merman sighed, scooting a bit higher on the ledge and closer to you.

"Look around you," he directed your attention, gesturing around the cave. "We brought you into our home and made sure you'd survive the dive. Don't you think you owe us something?"

"I didn't ask you–"

"Well, you would have died up there, you know that, right?" His interruption felt like a cold splash of water to your face, but his words hit you even harder. They sat in your stomach like a big stone. One that would sink you if you were left alone in the ocean rather than help you swim. Being demotivated was one thing. But at this point, you were pretty much helpless. You would have died without them but with them… there was no guarantee you would survive these guys, either.

"Look."

Raising his hands, the merman tried to ease your fear of him—in vain. With a small hopping motion, he elevated himself further towards you, and you, with no place to back up anymore, held your breath.

"We know humans. You guys are curious and want to know more about us. All of you are. You are always prodding in our territories, trying to find us, and when you do… well. You do this."

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, curling it enough so you could see the red blinking light coming from it. The tracker. You definitely didn't just imagine its existence, and slowly, you let out the breath you were holding, looking him in the eyes. This was more of a conversation than you ever had with any of these guys, and you decided to face it.

"Humans aren't even that tasty," he noted, assuming your weariness was rooted there. He wasn't entirely wrong.

"Then what do you want from me."

His grin spread a bit wider at your questions, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge he got you, like a fish drawn to a hook. Inching closer, you barely had time to shift your attention to the two heads that popped out of the water behind him, exchanging glances before directing their focus on you. "You see, we saw humans before. Cute ones—like you! But none would let us explore them a bit. We are oh-so curious about those things you stand on. About your tiny parts and soft body. You're so…"

"Human," you finished his sentence, goosebumps spreading all over your body as you exposed yourself, unwillingly aware of your weakness being your very existence. The merman scanned you with his eyes, almost undressing you with how intensely his gaze burned on your skin. It was an unnerving feeling, one of mutual understanding of how different you were. Weak. Vulnerable. Powerless. Them even communicating their plans was their form of showing mercy. Because if they wanted, they could have easily forced you into it as well.

"Yes," he chortled, seemingly content with you understanding their desire. You couldn't imagine that this was all they'd ask of you, a memory of the voice you heard before waking up in this cave returning to you.

It hasn't been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate.

You wanted to suppress the implications echoing in these words, hoping and wishing this wasn't what these orcas intended to do with you. You couldn't fear something that hadn't happened yet, or else you might lose the last bit of rationality in you that would get you out of this situation, no matter how much anxiety tried to paint the gruesome pictures of possibilities. But you needed to know. Needed to hear it from them, even if the promise was empty. If you wanted to build any kind of trust, this would be necessary, even if the betrayal would hurt twice as much.

"If I agree will you take me back? Back to this place you know, where I can return to my kind? Promise you won't kill me?"

Nerrocan was the first to return to the ledge after disappearing so abruptly. You hadn't noticed it at first, but when he looked at you, his gaze shifting to your legs for a few seconds before looking back up at you, you noticed the split lip he now had, blood trickling from it as the blue light grazed him. "Promise," he answered for the three of them, gaining a sharp glare from the other two. Lyr, too, came back up on the ledge, merely resting his upper body on the stone and propping himself up with his arm.

"Aren't you gonna say something when he's undermining you, Krill?" he asked the merman in the middle, and now, finally, you had names for all three of their faces.

"He won't do it again. Right, Nerrocan?"

The spoken to let out a huff, but when Krill took a deep breath, Nerrocan opened his mouth, submitting as told, "Of course, Krill."

"Well, now that this is out of the way, shall we begin?" Krill asked, his gaze sticking to Nerrocan for just a moment longer before returning to you. Putting on a calculated smile for you—as if he was trying to imitate human behavior—all you felt was another shiver running down your spine. You braced yourself, getting a grip on your shaking hands by curling them into fists. The faster this was over, the quicker you'd find out if they'd keep their promise. The faster you'd be able to get home and sort out this mess your life was in.

"Okay…" you whispered. Once again, your word seemed to be the one they had waited for, all of them leaping forward, closing in as you let out a surprised squeak. "Stop!" you yelled, shielding your face with your arms and trying to hide behind them out of fear of the approaching predators. To your surprise, the sound of splashing water and bodies moving ceased. When you pried your eyes open, the mermen had stilled, their muscles barely flinching under the intense tension running through them. Their expression was grim, worse than before, seemingly unimpressed with your reluctance after you gave them the go. It seemed their patience was running thin, but what else were you supposed to do?

"Not all at once… please?" you tried to explain yourself, their bodies remaining still for a moment. Lyr was the first to break the silence, groaning loudly in annoyance as he slipped back. Nerrocan said nothing, merely pulling his hands back to his side. He had come the closest to you—especially your legs—and even Krill put some distance between you two, sighing loudly before driving his hands through his short hair.

"Choose then," he ordered, and there was no hint of teasing or playfulness left in his voice. His eyes remained wide open, staring as he waited for your answer, his body so tense you were scared he might pop a vein. Krill seemed to be the least amused about all of this, but the dirty looks of the other two were just as chilling and pressuring. "Choose who you want to "play" with first, then."

It was an amicable choice that seemed challenging for the three, but they made it your choice nonetheless. Your eyes dragged over all their faces. Nerrocan, the quiet one of them, who seemed very interested in your legs and not much else. Lyr, who was already back to grinning, his casualness paired with the intensity of his gaze drilling into you, making him seem a little unhinged. And Krill, whose word seemed to stand above the others, but whose words could never make him trustworthy to you.

You had to choose one before their patience with you would finally run out.

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