#I’m going to take a late night shower and slip into newly washed sheets

[fruitgoat]

Okay. I’m (mostly) okay now. I mean, I might still spend the next 12 hours crying, but it will be a productive cry that I’ve been holding in. The previous three hours (days… weeks…) of train wreck were largely 1) a “fight” that really needed to happen and 2) hormonal nonsense that triggered some things with a bit of 3) my brain is just like that sometimes on the side. Situation Normal.

Edit to add: it’s possible I’m a little insane today. I’ve slept approximately 6 hours of the last 72. I’m well aware I should be getting more sleep. My brain disagrees and keeps getting me up at 4am with plot bunnies that COULD wait until 8am like a civilized person. But no. I just get to be kinda unhinged.

[trashcanfanfics]

So that val x virgin reader was really good! As like almost a opposite of that could you do a really stressed Valentino coming home to his (afab) s.o and they take care of him sexually? I know you said your not the best but imo your one of the best smut writers I've seen!! Thank youuu!!

Listen, it takes me forever to write smut because I want it to sound believeable, so hearing that my efforts are appreciated is incredible, so thank you!!

Valentino has been coming home more and more stressed lately. You don't know why but you've decided to do something about it. A whole night planned to get him relaxed and show him how much you love him. You made his favorite dinner, paired with the perfect wine, scented candles of his favorite smell vanilla and patchouli, dimmed the lights, picked out some bath bombs and set out the body oils in the bedroom for sensual love making thinly disguised as a massage. Now all you had to do was wait for him, which didn't take too long after you set the table and switch on some smooth jazz.

Val entered the house with a sigh. You went around the corner to greet him, watching the way he slid off his coat. He was tired, that made your heart ache. You vowed to not initiate sex tonight unless he wanted to. If he was too tired, you wouldn't even try to convince him otherwise.

"Hey, babe, how was your day?" You looked up to him as he hung up his coat and set his cane in the holder. He turned to you and gave a small smile and, though he didn't have pupils, you could tell his eyes were checking you out. You had dressed up a little, just a nice button down and some dark jeans, business casual.

"Mm, fine, is there a reason you dressed up?" He stepped towards you, his smile widening as he put his lower set of arms around you, the other two patting down your hair before resting to hold your face. "I don't think it's an anniversary."

"It's not, I just want to spoil you tonight." You smiled back up to him and pulled out of his arms before grabbing his lower right and tugging him to the dining area. His eyes widened as he saw what you had spent all day on. "Ta da!" You saw his eyes soften before he looked back at you.

"This for me?" His smile was full of adoration and warmth. You nodded and tugged him to his chair, pulling it out for him then pushing it back in as he sat. "Such a gentleperson." He chuckled as you went to your own seat.

"I've noticed how stressed you've been lately, so I prepared a night of good food and relaxation." You looked up to his eyes and gave him your sweetest smile. He thanked you sincerely and dug into the meal. A moan escaped him as he tasted your cooking. You hoped that wouldn't be the last you pulled from him this evening.

~*~

"That was delicious, precious. Thank you." Val leaned back into his seat with a sigh. You giggled and stood up.

"That's not all on tonight's itinerary." You went over to him and held out your hand for his. "Come on, my love." He took your hand and followed you to the master bathroom. You turned on the water, plugged it when the water was warm enough.

"Will you be joining in this bath, sweetheart?" His hands trailed up your sides and to your shoulders. You hummed and shook your head as you stopped the water and plopped in a lavender and rosewood bath bomb. His disappointment was palpable.

"It'd be hard for me to massage your shoulders from inside the tub." You turned to him. "I can help you get undressed, though." He perked up and gave you a sultry smile. You understood that as a yes and went to work on unbuttoning his pants while he made quick work of his vest and shirt. Val kicked off his shoes then let you pull down his pants and boxers before he stepped out of them. You slipped off his socks and stood up, placing a tender kiss to his thigh before looking him in the eye. He caressed your face and setpped into the tub.

"You're too good to me, Y/n." He slid down into the tub and sighed happily. You were quick to grab the stool you set aside for this purpose and sit, beginning the promised massage. He groaned as you rubbed and kneaded out the knots that built up. His head leaned back to rest on your chest. You began to hum softly, a soothing love song to further relax your bug lover. Happiness bubbled up in your chest at the fact that you can help him in times like these.

~*~

The tub drained and Val in a robe, you lead him into the room where he can finally see the oils you lined up. Waiting for you to use them. He looked to you with an amused smirk.

"What's this?" He leaned towards you. "Are you trying to seduce me, gorgeous?" You huffed out a laugh as you tugged him to the bed.

"I was thinking more along the lines of working out the rest of your knots and go from there." You pat his leg gently to encourage him to get on the bed. He obliged and crawled up onto the bed, rather seductively. His playfully sultry look your way as he was on his hands and knees made you giggle. You crawled up after him, shedding your shirt, pants and socks, leaving you in your undewear while he slipped out of his robe. With the slight prompting of your hand gently pressing into his back, he flopped down on his stomach.

"You know, precious, you are a true blessing in Hell." He didn't get a response as you grabbed up a sweet soothing cedarwood and cinnamon oil and poured a bit into your hand. You rubbed your hands together and got to work on his back, paying extra attention to both sets of shoulder muscles as well as the spinalis muscle on both sides of the spine. He groaned and relaxed further under your touch. When you got to the lower back just above the glutes, he moaned loudly into the pillow.

"Does it feel good, baby?" You received a low hum in response. You traced your hands up his sides and pressed into his lower shoulder muscles before placing a kiss on his upper right shoulder. He suddenly flipped onto his back, causing you to stand as he turned to stay above him. His lower hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you down to straddle him as his upper hands rested on your hips.

"I love you." He looked up at you in adoration. You smiled and leaned down to give him a sweet kiss. He deepened it, moving one hand up to your face to hold you there. His tongue licked your bottom lip and you opened it in response. You wouldn't playfully tease him tonight, he needed the relief. Your tongues moved around each other in a passionate dance as his other upper hand reached up to squeeze your buttcheek. You giggled and parted from him, gently biting his lip as you did so.

"I love you, too." You gently held his face in both hands. "Do you want to go further?" In your peripheral, you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows. You feel like you know the answer but you need to hear it to make absolute sure, in case you're reading the signs wrong.

"God yes." That was all you needed as you gave him another passionate kiss. His neck received attention next, you leaving marks and little bites before trailing kisses down until you straddled his hips. You stood up on the bed to gently remove the last bit of cloth that kept your most sensitive areas from view. Your eyes stayed on his as you slid them off. His gaze was on your movement. His cock twitching at the sight of you fully nude.

You slowly lowered yourself to hover just above your lover's erection. Lining him up, you finally lowered yourself slowly until he filled you completely. His head fell back against the pillow with a groan. You moved your hips and moaned at the sensation. Beginning to lift up and back down, you braced yourself on the bed beside his slender frame. You picked up the pace and eventually lifted up without bracing yourself, bouncing up and down as you moaned. Val's voice mixed with yours as he began to meet you with thrusts. You lifted up, almost off of him completely before dropping down to take him all in. That made Val grab your hips with a stutter moan. He started bouncing you, using you like a fleshlight. You moaned and called out his name as he went harder.

"F-fuck! Oh shit!" You huffed out, throwing your head back, almost losing yourself in the pleasure. As if on their own, your hands gripped his wrists. You squeezed around him, trying to get him to cum first. That was your goal and you focused on it. By fuck, if you were going to cum it had to be after him. It was his turn to be pampered and pleased. He moaned loudly as his hands dug into your hips, bouncing you faster on him.

"Y/n! Oh fuck! I'm gonna-!" You squeezed around him again as he used his thumbs to press into the sensitive flesh covering your lower hip joints. He knew that was your sweet spot. The bastard was trying to get you to cum first. You weren't about to let that happen; you squeezed around him again and reached one of your hands down to grip his hip, squeezing and digging your nails into it slightly. This did the trick. He practically screamed as he slammed you down onto his cock and came deeply into you. He thrust up a few more times, grunting. You came soon after, the thought of giving him so much pleasure and the feel of his thick seed coating your inner walls pushing you over the edge.

The both of you came down from your highs, huffing. His hands loosening around your hips as you fell onto him in exhaustion. You gave a kiss to the skin you laid on before shakily lifting yourself up and off his, now limp, cock. He huffed as he lifted up to rest on his elbows, watching you as you slid off the bed and hobbled over to the bathroom to clean up. You heard him get up to join you in the shower you started, helping you clean up.

~*~

"Did you have a nice night?" You asked once you two had finished washing the sweat and cum off, in the newly changed sheets and pajamas. His arms, that were wrapped loosely around you, pulled you closer to him as he curled around you.

"Very much so." He kissed your forehead and you nuzzled into his fuzz. Your arms wrapped around his ribs as your leg matched the action to fully attatch yourself to him.

"I'm glad." You smiled as you heard his breathing even out, lulling you into sleep shortly after him.

[contemplativepancakes]

where to, cas?

Castiel hears Dean talking, sees his mouth moving, knows he should reply, but all he can do is stare at Dean blankly. The words rattle around in his brain, too empty now that it’s devoid of all the voices of his brothers and sisters. 

Where to? It’s a reasonable question, a good one, but one Castiel has no answer for. Nora had just found his things at the Gas n’ Sip earlier that day, so he doesn’t want to try and press his luck there, but he has nowhere else. A shelter, maybe? He had stayed in a few while he was making his way to the bunker, and while they’d be okay for a couple nights, maybe, if they have room, it’s not a long term solution. 

“Cas?” Dean prods, shaking Castiel out of his thoughts. 

Castiel bites his lip. “I’ll…I’ll just tag along with you, if that’s all right.” 

Dean’s not making eye contact, so he takes the chance to give Dean a doleful stare, admiring his profile and the way his stubble turns a reddish blond in the glow of the streetlights. “I’ve missed you,” Castiel admits softly. 

Dean finally turns his head to look, really look, at Castiel. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Dean lets out a deep sigh, then. “Look, Cas, I—”

Castiel cuts him off. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m not an angel anymore. What use am I?”

A look Castiel can’t quite identify crosses Dean’s face. Even after several years, Castiel still isn’t the most versed in identifying human emotions. “What? It’s not about that. You don’t have to be useful to be worth something to me, man.” Dean huffs and runs a hand through his short hair. “And of course it’s fine that you stay with me for the night, but how about you show me your place, huh? It’ll help me sleep better if I know you’re doing okay.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have… a place.” Now Castiel is the one avoiding eye contact. 

“What do you mean? Where have you been staying?”

“At the store,” he answers, glancing over at Dean as shame washes over him in a bright blaze. 

“Oh, Cas,” Dean murmurs, before clapping one of his hands against the Impala’s dash. “Well, we ought to get you some better digs, then, right?”

Castiel coughs awkwardly, not wanting to upset the delicate balance of Dean’s now-forced good mood. He looks out the window and leans his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes and trying to pretend he has his wings again, but it’s a poor substitute. His wings never rumbled, or hit potholes, or expelled fumes. Castiel’s nose wrinkles in distaste when Dean cracks his window. 

Eventually, after an amount of time Castiel has completely lost track of, the Impala rumbles to a stop and Dean reaches over to shake his shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here.”

Castiel doesn’t bother to waste his breath protesting he wasn’t asleep. He’s not an angel anymore, so it was a reasonable assumption for Dean to make, he supposes. He squints out at the bright lights proclaiming vacancy refracting through the window. The driver’s door slams shut, followed shortly by the trunk squeaking open, and Dean presumably retrieving his duffle bag. Castiel opens his door and slowly gets out, feeling the crunch of gravel beneath his thin soled shoes.

Castiel trails Dean into the lobby, trying not to look out of place as Dean talks to the clerk. “One king,” he says gruffly, and Castiel’s head whips up in surprise.

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“I’m paying for the month.” Castiel’s head drops just as quickly.

Dean’s just going to dump him here and move on, since Castiel is obviously no longer a worthy investment of Dean’s time now that he has nothing left to offer. To Castiel’s surprise, Dean doesn’t just press the key into Castiel’s hand, but brushes past Castiel and out the door, ignoring the questioning look the desk clerk sends the two of them.

Castiel stumbles out after him, the cool night air biting his skin. Dean looks down at the number on the key and mutters to himself, looking around before he spots the door and walks up to it. Dean pounds a hand against the door, as if testing its sturdiness, and he must be satisfied because he unlocks it and gestures for Castiel to go in.

Dean follows and closes the door behind him, tossing his duffel on the bed before pointedly moving it to one side. “I—I figured we could share for the night. That way you’d have more space to stretch out the rest of the time, when I’m not here.”

Castiel may not have angelic hearing anymore, but he can still hear Dean’s hard swallow. “Sure,” Castiel says awkwardly, turning away from Dean and unbuttoning his shirt. He drops his slacks as well before he climbs into the bed, using the covers as a shield for the uncomfortable emotions swirling around in his gut.

Everything is so much more intense now that Castiel is a human, but at the same time, it’s not. His emotions overwhelm him more than they ever did when he was an angel, but his head feels empty without the voices of his brothers and sisters constantly swirling around and the world seems dull and flat now that he can’t perceive souls. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to see a sight as beautiful as Dean’s soul again, and the thought is more than a little depressing.

While Castiel's thoughts have been occupied, Dean has slipped into the bathroom, and Castiel can hear the shower running. An urge possesses Castiel to open the door, pull back the shower curtain, and join Dean, like he’s observed many humans do in the years since they’ve invented indoor plumbing, but he stomps down on it.

Castiel lays there staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours, but is probably a few minutes. His patience is just one more thing that evaporated into thin air when he fell. Finally, the bathroom door opens, and Castiel wilts back from the cool air. He was expecting steamy warmness, but he’s left shivering.

Castiel tries to keep his eyes on the ceiling, tracing the cracks and water stains, but his eyes keep shifting towards Dean, tracing drops of water as they run down his back, highlighting the muscles. Castiel swallows hard. He’s lost count of how many times he’s cursed being human in the past day alone.

Castiel snaps his eyes back to the ceiling, turning over for good measure when Dean drops the towel, but not before he gets a good look at Dean’s ass. Castiel remembers shaping the curve of it, placing every freckle with care after he raised Dean from Hell. It’s different, though, now.

Everything is different, and Castiel hates it.

His throat is scratchy. Castiel considers getting up to get a drink from the sink, but then he would have to walk past Dean, and there’s a rapidly developing situation under the sheets that would make that mortifying. Castiel’s newly human body hasn’t seemed to have received the memo that Castiel is not a teenage boy. Castiel holds his breath as Dean lifts the sheets and slides in next to him. There’s a rush of cold air, and Dean shifts as he settles in the bed. “Is this okay?” Dean whispers.

Dean’s presence draws Castiel towards him; it always has, and now Dean expects Castiel to resist his pull when he’s less than six inches away from him. No, it’s not okay.

“It’s fine,” Castiel grunts.

“Just don’t stick your cold feet on me in the middle of the night, okay?”

Castiel always runs cold now that he’s human, and he can feel Dean’s heat radiating even from his spot on the mattress. “Of course, Dean.”

Castiel stays resolutely still, not wanting to bother Dean with his fidgeting. He can’t seem to fall asleep without tossing and turning, and it’s so pathetically human that Castiel hates himself for it. For not being able to fall asleep, and needing to sleep at all in the first place. It’s not until Dean’s breathing evens out that Castiel allows his body to relax. His back and jaw ache from holding himself so stiffly. His wrist throbs from where Ephraim had brutally twisted it. He thinks it has a slight fracture, and he knows he should do something for it, to make sure it doesn’t get worse, but he can’t seem to summon the motivation. He cradles it against his chest and stares at the wall.

The passage of time is marked by the headlights of cars sliding across the walls as they drive by and the slow turn of the flip number alarm clock. His heart pounds in his ears, but he can’t hear Dean’s, which is an uncomfortable change. He turns so he can see the rise and fall of Dean’s chest. Castiel lets the sight soothe him to sleep.

-

Castiel wakes to a pleasant friction. His hips are slowly rolling into the mattress, and his eyes flutter back shut. Since becoming human, he has discovered the peculiar phenomenon of morning erections, and although they can sometimes be an inconvenience when he’s running late for work, they’re largely enjoyable. He moans a little as he lets the sensation wash over him.

A choked sound comes from next to him, and Castiel freezes, stilling the movement of his hips. The last night comes rushing back to him, and he realizes he’s not as alone as he thought he was. Blood rushes to his face, making it uncomfortably warm. He cracks his eyes open and is relieved to find he’s facing away from Dean. Maybe he can pretend he’s still sleeping.

“Cas?” Dean whispers.

Damn it.

“Good morning, Dean,” he grates out, his voice sleep-hoarse.

The mattress shifts as Dean moves, and Castiel expects the dip of Dean’s weight to disappear, for him to go to the bathroom, or even more likely, say goodbye and take his leave, vanishing from Castiel’s life forever, but all of a sudden, there’s heat pressing against his back instead. Dean reaches over, and his fingers trace a path down Castiel’s chest, ghosting over his hip bones, down to his groin. Castiel stiffens, unsure of if he’s still sleeping or not. This doesn’t happen to him when he’s awake.

Maybe he got thrown against the wall harder than he thought.

“What are you doing?”

Dean’s hand stills. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Why, then?” Castiel is puzzled as to why Dean hasn’t left. He had had no qualms telling Castiel he couldn’t stay in the bunker, so he’s not sure why Dean wants to spend extra time with him now, and he has absolutely no idea why Dean would be trying to initiate this with him. Castiel is still new to feeling emotions in their most potent form, but he doesn’t know which cocktail of them could lead this.

Dean swallows hard, and his hand retreats. “I—I just thought—”

Castiel turns over to face Dean, to look at the microexpressions that flit across his face. Now that he can’t see Dean’s soul, this is all he has to rely on when it comes to gauging Dean’s mood. Dean’s eyes catch on Castiel’s for a second, before he looks away, staring at the curtain instead. He licks his lips nervously. “I thought you looked like you could use a hand. And, you know, you look sad. Sex always makes me feel better.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “Does it?”

Dean huffs. “Most of the time. Well, I just thought I’d help you out, but you obviously don’t want that, so that’s fine. That’s cool.”

Dean stumbles out of the bed, accidentally dragging the covers with him, and Castiel winces at the blast of cold air.

“I’m, uh, I’ll go, then. You probably have to be at work, anyway.”

Castiel looks over at the alarm clock. “I have until ten.”

Dean follows his gaze. It’s six. “I suppose you need a ride?” he sighs, tugging a hand through his hair.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not, just— Fuck, Cas. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Castiel looks on in alarm as Dean takes a heavy seat back on the edge of the bed, bringing his hands up to his head and burying his face. Castiel can barely handle his own feelings, much less someone’s else.

Nevertheless, he sits up and puts a hand on Dean’s back. “Are you okay?”

Dean laughs ruefully. “I’m pretty far from okay. I miss you, man, and Sam’s up my ass all the time, and—”

“And what?”

“Nothing, it’s not important. I’m just… stressed, I guess.”

“Ah. So you wanted a relaxation?” Castiel asks. He’s heard of humans using intercourse for anxiety management.

“What? No. Just forget it.”

“Forget it,” Castiel echoes. “Right.”

He turns away from Dean, swinging his legs off the bed and letting his toes wiggle into the scratchy carpet. He wrinkles his nose as the smell of cigarette smoke wafts up.

“Wait, Cas,” Dean says, and Castiel can’t help the way his mind jumps back to last night, when Dean had said the same thing. Castiel had thought Dean was going to tell him to stop, to not go to Nora, to quit his job, to come back home, but there was no such luck last night, and Castiel doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up now.

He turns to look at Dean, and Dean wilts. “Nevermind.”

Castiel huffs and darts his gaze away, standing up and retrieving his clothes from where they’re a puddle on the ground. He pulls them on, and Dean clears his throat behind him. “Looking a little wrinkly there, buddy.”

Castiel shrugs. “This is all I have.”

“Well, here.” Dean reaches into his army green duffel bag and unfurls an impressively unwrinkled pair of jeans and a shirt. “This ain’t amateur hour, dude,” Dean says, responding to the questioning raise of Castiel’s eyebrows.

Castiel watches intently as Dean folds his clothes from the day before into his duffel, trying to learn the technique. He needs to be able to keep his clothes looking presentable. Dean finishes his folding and looks up to see Castiel’s eyes fixed on him. He grunts. “You ready to go?”

Castiel looks back at the clock, ready to protest and fight for more time with Dean, but he jostles his arm and hisses. Dean is on him in a second, his hands warm and gentle on Castiel’s arm.

“Did this happen last night? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Castiel shrugs.

Dean pokes at it with two fingers. Castiel flinches away.

“All right, all right. Let me wrap this up, okay? A splint probably wouldn’t hurt either,” Dean muses.

Dean pulls out his alarmingly large first aid kit and sifts through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He holds Castiel’s hand like he’s afraid he’s going to break it, and something shifts in Castiel’s chest.

Castiel crushes it deliberately, and as he waves at Dean from just outside the Gas n’ Sip after Dean drops him off, he knows he made the right choice. There’s no ember to be stoked from their ashes.

He wonders if he’s just seen Dean for the last time. He restocks the dairy case, and tries not to think.  

-

“Boyfriend?” Nora asks, making Castiel jump as she appears behind his shoulder as he refills the nacho cheese dispenser.

“What?”

“That guy you left with yesterday. Is he your boyfriend?”

Castiel swallows hard. “No.”

“Oh,” Nora says knowingly. “Your ex.”

“Dean and I have never been together,” Castiel protests, his voice a little more high pitched than normal.

“Oh,” Nora says again. “Hmm. You know, I don’t know much about your past, Steve. I’m here if you want someone to listen.”

Castiel’s throat is dry. “Thank you.”

-

Later, he stands in the doorway of Nora’s office where she’s hunched over her desk doing payroll. “We were… in the military together.”

Nora looks up, and Castiel sees confusion cross her face, swiftly replaced by understanding. “You must have been through some real shit together, then.”

“You could say that,” Castiel hedges.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Steve. I saw the way you looked at him.” Nora squints at him.

“We’ve saved each other's lives.”

Nora doesn’t respond, just looks at him steadily with a knowing smile, and Castiel retreats back to the register.

He pastes on a smile as he serves the next customer.

-

That night, he goes back to the motel where Dean had paid for him, and he’s disappointed to find that Dean’s scent is already gone, replaced by the smoke that seems to permeate the whole motel. Castiel figures it’s fitting, at the very least.

He stares at the ceiling and wonders what life has left to offer him.

-

Nora catches on to his mood the next day. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

Castiel sighs and drums his fingers against the countertop before giving her a wry smile. “Boy problems.”

Nora doesn’t react, and Castiel doesn’t know how to feel about that. “Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe.”

She hums. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

After a millennia of impermanence, of empires rising and falling and everyone Castiel cares about leaving him or pushing him away, Castiel knows Nora can’t promise that, but he appreciates the sentiment.

-

Castiel’s days fall into a pattern. He scrounges up enough money to keep living out of his motel room and afford some canned fruits and vegetables to supplement his diet that largely consists of peanut butter and jelly and what Nora shoves on him from the Gas n’ Sip. She squints at him and says he looks like he’s getting skinnier, and that’s not going to happen on her watch.

Castiel can’t say he’s too surprised when the pattern breaks. He’s coming from a long day of work, and the door to his motel room swings right open. Castiel freezes. He knows he left it locked. He fumbles in his bag for his angel blade, his one last reminder of his old life. He has a feeling whatever is inside is going to want to compete for that title.

Castiel wonders if it’s too grim to speculate if this will be the thing that finally puts him out of his misery. Although, he supposes it’s not fair to say he’s living in misery. The amount of time he spends staring at the atrociously papered motel room wall might say differently, but Castiel prefers to think of it as monotonous rather than any of those other descriptors.

Angel blade in hand, he walks through the door, scanning for any disturbances. He’s never been more surprised to see Dean. Dean’s propped against the pillows, his legs crossed at the ankles. His flannel is draped over the back of the desk chair, leaving him in just a threadbare t-shirt.

“Hey, Cas.”

Castiel lowers the angel blade with shaking hands. “Dean. What are you doing here?”

Dean shrugs, and Castiel notices just how beat down he looks. Dean has always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but it finally appears to be taking its toll. He’s paler than Castiel remembers, more drawn, and even more worried looking, if that’s possible.

Castiel sets his bag down on the ground. “Do you need something?” Castiel asks, even though he doesn’t know what he has to offer now.

“Is it a crime to want to see you?”

Castiel lifts his chin. “I was under the impression you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

Dean looks at him in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“You kicked me out. You told me I couldn’t stay! All I wanted to do was stay,” Castiel says, his voice cracking on the last sentence.

Dean uncrosses his legs and stands up, moves into Castiel’s space. He puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and Castiel realizes just how much he’s yearned for touch since leaving Dean last. The most he’s gotten is a brush of fingers as he hands someone their change, and his human body craves more than that.

Nevertheless, he jerks away from Dean. This way, it’ll sting less when Castiel is inevitably dropped from Dean’s life again.

Dean steps back, hurt flashing across his face. Castiel doesn’t let himself feel bad. He’s not the one who should be apologizing. “I missed you,” Dean says weakly.

Castiel desperately returns the sentiment, but he doesn’t voice the thought.

At Castiel’s stony silence, Dean points to the windowsill. “I brought you a housewarming gift. Well, motel warming.”

Castiel follows his finger to where a tiny cactus sits, soaking in the feeble rays of evening sunlight. “I can barely take care of myself,” he jokes, but it lands flat.

“Don’t worry. Sam says they’re impossible to kill.”

“How is Sam?” Castiel asks, seizing on the new topic.

Interestingly, Dean clams up. He’s never not wanted to talk about Sam before. “He’s fine. We’re fine.”

Castiel hums. “That’s why you showed up here, right?”

Dean’s glance flits away before it comes back, making eye contact with a vengeance. Dean’s always been a skilled liar, so Castiel doesn’t give it much weight.

“Can I stay?” Dean asks. “For the night?”

Castiel agrees, and tries not to think of the irony.

-

When he wakes up in the morning, Dean is gone, and only the lingering scent of his cologne betrays the fact that he was there at all.

-

Nora notices. “You seem… more melancholy than usual today,” she says carefully, and Castiel tries not to snort.

“Melancholy? Really?”

Nora waves a hand. “You know what I mean.”

Castiel bites his lip. “I saw Dean yesterday.”

“Oh?” Nora asks, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

“He just showed up. And now he’s gone again.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. He seemed stressed.” Castiel shakes his head. “He brought me a cactus.”

Nora looks puzzled by that, and frankly, Castiel is, too, so he lets Nora redirect the conversation, giving him all the latest news about her daughter.

Back at the motel, he runs his fingers over the tiny spines of the cactus, and wonders.

-

Nora helps him get a bank account, and Castiel watches the numbers slowly add up. Dean drops by periodically, always topping off Castiel’s motel credit. Until, one day, it runs out, and Castiel begins to worry. He and Dean don’t text; Castiel doesn’t even have a phone. Castiel pays for the next week at the motel and frets through his day at work. Nora has the day off, so Castiel has no one to confide in.

He’s never been so relieved to see his motel room broken into, but his relief is quickly shattered when he sees the blood seeping onto his bed spread.

Dean is pouring whiskey on to a wound on his side, and Castiel feels affronted for a second at the disregard Dean has for his sheets, but he rushes forward to take the bottle from Dean. “What happened?” he demands.

“Werewolf got the jump on me,” Dean says weakly. “You got any floss around here? Preferably not mint? That shit stings like a bitch.”

Cas just stares at him.

“Well, you gonna stitch me up, or are you going to let me bleed out?”

By this point, Cas knows better than to ask where Sam is, so he lets his feet carry him to the bathroom where he finds a sewing needle and the requested floss. Unflavored, thankfully for Dean. He digs through Dean’s jacket pocket where he knows he keeps his lighter, ignoring Dean’s comment about buying him dinner first.

Castiel sterilizes the needle and soaks a washcloth in whiskey before wiping at Dean’s wound. Dean hisses. “Don’t be a baby,” Castiel says, and Dean’s mouth flaps up and down, but he doesn’t come up with a response because by then Castiel has the needle threaded and pokes it through Dean’s skin.

Castiel makes neat stitches under Dean’s close supervision. The only time it wanders is when he takes another swig of whiskey.

By the time Castiel has finished and takes the bottle back from Dean to douse the whole thing, Dean is nearly asleep. Castiel puts a bandage on the wound, taken from Dean’s painfully familiar first aid kit. Dean watches Castiel clean up with hooded eyes, and when Castiel curls up beside him, he pets his hand through Castiel’s hair. Dean mumbles something, but he slurs it so much that Castiel can’t understand what it was. He falls asleep with a hand fisted in the sheets.

-

For once, when Castiel wakes up, Dean is still there. He prods at Dean’s bandage-covered wound, and Dean slaps his hand away and rolls onto his stomach. Castiel gets up to start getting ready for work. When he leaves, he tries to memorize the shape of Dean’s sleeping form. Castiel doesn’t allow himself to hope that that will be the case when he returns.

-

To Castiel’s shock, there is still a Dean-sized lump in his bed when he finishes his shift. Dean notes his gobsmacked look and rolls his eyes. “Baby’s not exactly the smoothest ride. Did you want me to get all jostled around and open up my stitches?”

“Um. No?”

“That’s what I thought. Now what do you have to eat around here?”

-

Dean stays the night, and the night after that. Castiel can’t believe his luck, but he doesn’t want to let himself get too used to this, either.

Surprisingly, it’s not Dean that shatters Castiel’s idyll, but Castiel himself. Castiel jerks awake, panting, and Dean is right there with his hands all over Castiel, asking if he’s okay. Castiel flinches back, still seeing the Deans from his dream with their unseeing eyes. He hasn’t told Dean about how Naomi made him kill all those versions of him, and he doesn’t intend to now.

Dean runs a soothing hand down his back, and Castiel melts into the touch, deliberately slowing his breathing. “You good?” Dean asks softly.

“I am now.”

-

When Dean finally leaves, he presses a worn paperback into Castiel’s hands that he says he picked up at a second hand store. Castiel squints at the cover curiously. Stranger in a Strange Land, it proclaims. “Thought you might be able to relate,” Dean says, shrugging.

“Thank you.” Castiel sits it next to his cactus, and he almost misses the way Dean swells in pride.

-

Castiel buys a car, Nora by his side and glaring at the salesman until he lowers the price. Castiel smiles at her gratefully. He pats the hood as the salesman walks away to get the paperwork. “What do you think?”

Nora looks over the golden Continental. “It’s, uh, it’s nice.”

Castiel beams.

-

Castiel knows how Dean takes care of the Impala, so he tries to do the same to his new car. He buys a phone so he can learn how to change the oil on youtube. He carefully plugs in Dean’s number from memory and texts him, letting him know Castiel’s new number. He doesn’t get a response, and Castiel tries not to let it bother him.

His car never seems to become imbued with the same sense of home that Baby has, but he likes it regardless. It’s something that’s solely his, with no influence of his siblings or Dean carved all over it. Nora makes fun of him for it, but he doesn’t mind.

-

Eventually, Castiel gets a phone call that some part of him knew was inevitable. No one ever really gets out, that’s what Dean has always said.

“Cas, it’s bad. It’s Sam. Just… I need you.”

“Okay. It’s going to be okay, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean says, and Castiel graciously doesn’t call him out on the falsehood.

“You know I love you, right?” Dean asks, rushed and all of a sudden, like it’s something he’s been working towards for a while.

“I know,” Castiel lies.

Whatever happens next, he’s excited at the prospect of being able to learn that for himself.

tags (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @urbankat82 @that-one-fandom-chick @youcancallmeanet  @nineteensevetyfour @1stborneve @good-things-do-happen-dean  @no-frigging-idea

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 10 (Finale)

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚  IT’S TIME.

Hello! I would honestly really like to thank every one of you who’s read this and encouraged me during this long ride! It’s been a wild one and it’s been an honor to share this smutty smut fest to you all. I’m a little sad that it’s over, but hopefully after some time away from writing this fic I’ll come back and write one last bonus chapter. Because what’s my writing without boning a demon amirite?

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

  Pairing: Simeon x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 7,100 ish   Tags: Angst, Fluff, Smut Summary: Accepting and confronting feelings come with the consequence of a fall.

Fall

You had fully intended to go home as usual after a session with Simeon. Even if the post coital cuddles were much desired and needed, he always kept business and personal relations separate. You knew better than to get too attached to the warmth and comfort of his embrace. It pained you to know he would always approach your relationship with a cool detachment and you expected things to be the same as usual this time as well.

The endorphins of such an intense session sedated the both of you, letting you fall into a comfortable doze for a bit. Simeon clung to you as he slept, rousing you from your slumber more than once as his arms wrapped around you tighter. He whimpered from time to time, twitching and clutching you tighter as if you could drive away whatever bad dreams he had. It was strange to see him so possessive, not that you minded. Even if it was only when he slept, he was at least comfortable enough around you to let down his guard a little bit. By the time you needed to leave and catch the last train home, his limbs were tangled with yours and there was no way to move without waking him up.

“Simeon, I have to go…” You protested, trying to pry yourself from him.

He groaned and only pressed himself against you more in his half-asleep state. “No.” He whined.  “Stay the night, please. I don’t want to be alone.” His voice was surprisingly quiet and it cracked at the end of his plea.

Your heart skipped a beat at his sudden confession and any desire you had to leave immediately disappeared. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay.” You reassured, patting his arm and his hold on you relaxed just a bit.

Simeon sighed in content and took in your scent when you agreed to stay. His breathing stuttered for a moment as he savored your warmth next to his own. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he allowed himself the chance to indulge in a show of affection. Normally, he would have brought up his walls and politely seen you off. Yet, something prevented him from doing that right away this time. Likely, it had to do with the burning feeling that settled in his chest earlier when he saw you being fucked by Lucifer. The image and the feeling refused to go away, causing him to be needier than usual.  

He couldn’t go back to the way things were before when he was simply asking you to do things for the sake of his book. It was impossible to deny that he had budding feelings he needed to confront. The consequences of being too deeply involved in the human realm laid heavily on his shoulders and he didn’t want to think about them when he had you in his arms. He need to recenter himself and stay rational while he tried to figure out a way to reclaim who he was before this all happened. To do that, his feelings had to be carefully locked away. Wearily, he brought up the walls around his heart once more even though your close proximity threatened to tear them down at any moment.

You turned over to look at him and noticed he still had the collar on. Carefully, you helped him out of it. Unbuckling the ornate clasp was surprisingly harder than you anticipated, especially since you didn’t want to hurt Simeon. When it was finally pulled away and thrown to the side, it was hard to not notice how he skin of his neck had been rubbed raw from receiving such rough treatment throughout the night. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, tentatively tracing the tender skin and he winced at the touch.

“Don’t be. I’m alright. I promise.”  He reassured, but there was no conviction behind his words. He pulled away from you, ignoring the throbbing around his neck from where the collar had sat for so long.

You decided to leave the issue for the time being. Simeon wasn’t a stranger to harming himself, the long scars on his back was proof of that. Why he thought such self punishments were necessary were beyond your comprehension and you couldn’t begin to think about how to comfort him whenever this habit of his came up. You only had a few canned, rehearsed words that everyone had been taught to say and countless empty promises that you could never keep. You wanted to believe he would reach out for help if he needed it; however, if you knew anything about Simeon, it was that he would never say what he wanted.

“Shall I draw you a bath?” he asked quietly after a long lull of silence. He was staring at a point just past your head, in a daze and not quite focused as he normally was. As if he noticed how zoned out he was, he blinked and made proper eye contact with you. “I’m sure you’re tired, and it’ll give me a chance to change the sheets so you don’t have to keep sleeping on the mess I made.” He smiled softly, already in the middle of getting out of bed to start running the water.

There they were again. Those walls you worked so hard break through had been rebuilt in the short time you had been nodding off in his arms. When you weren’t fully focused on him, he was pushing you gently to the side, distancing himself and the cool detachment was more than a little depressing for you. It felt like with every time you got him to open up, the more he closed off his feelings. You thought you had gotten somewhere when he asked you to stay, but it seemed to be a temporary lapse.

He beckoned you to the bathroom shortly after, the tub was already half full and you could smell the jasmine oil he had put in there to help ease the aches and pains away. If anything, you thought he deserved a bath more than you did, but he was adamant about attending to your needs first and foremost. “Please take as much time here as you’d like. I’ll get a robe for you in a bit.” He turned to take his leave but you stopped him, holding onto his hand and tugging him closer.

“Won’t you stay? You need to get cleaned up too, don’t you?”

He smiled, though the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “Unfortunately, the tub is not large enough for two.” He reasoned.

Before you could further insist that he stay by your side, he was already through the door and off to change the sheets like he said he would.

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere else with him for the night and slipped into the bath. The hot water did wonders to your sore muscles. Whatever he put into it only aided in relaxing you to a point where you were quickly dozing off in the bath. Your mind was much more active than your body, replaying all the events that lead up to this moment. From the first hesitant time in that sunroom all the way to the moment he surrendered his body to you, your relationship and your feelings for him had only deepened.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you mulled over the discussion you had with him so long ago, going through the things he was comfortable with doing and what he absolutely refused to do. Somewhere along the line, you had pushed aside his boundaries in pursuit of getting what you wanted out of your agreement. You ended up assuming that he desired you the same way you desired him. Upon this realization, it was no longer a wonder why you were being politely pushed away.

You lost track of how long you had been in the tub. Your disheartening thoughts pulled you down a deep rabbit hole where you analyzed every moment you shared, wondering where you had gone wrong and when you had become so inconsiderate. Your mind ran in circles while your body slowly shut down from exhaustion.

Simeon thought you died in the tub when he found you. Your torso was practically hanging out the side of the tub and you didn’t respond when he called your name the first time. To say he was relieved when he saw you twitch slightly after he called you again would have been an understatement. He sighed softly, setting the robe he brought in to the side and gently propped you up. “Come now, Little Lamb. You’ll catch a cold if you sleep like that.” He chided.

You blinked, clearing your bleary vision and grumbled at him, brushing his hands away. “Just a few more minutes.” You whined.

“The water is no longer warm, you’ll get sick if you stay in here any longer.” He was insistent, half dragging you out of the tepid water much to your dismay.

Simeon wrapped you in the largest towel he had, smiling softly the whole time you were turned away from him. The fluffy bath sheet smelled of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place, but it was a familiar scent. You clearly did not seem to be in any state to properly care for yourself and he took it upon himself to properly dry you off. It wasn’t often he got to dote on you in the way he wished, and it seemed the only time he would get the chance was when you were barely conscious after being fucked out of your mind.

Seeing you barely able to stay on your feet, Simeon almost carried you back to bed. Stay distant. Do not meddle any further. Though he knew he was likely too far gone to return to the Celestial realm with any sort of good grace, he childishly thought it might not be too late to rectify his wrongs.

He took you by your hand, lead you back to bed and tucked you in. It took no time at all for you to fall asleep on the newly changed sheets. You hogged a majority of his pillows and the blankets, but he didn’t mind. Only when he was sure you were soundly asleep did he allow himself the chance to shower off the worst of the fluids which had caked themselves onto his skin. As he watched the water swirl down the drain, he wonder if he really stood a chance against Lucifer’s wiles and seduction. He couldn’t get the image of you being taken by another man out of his head no matter how hard he distracted from himself.

That dull, burning feeling spread across his chest once again. The ache of yearning for something he could never have consumed his being. And as the conflicting emotions warred within him, he sank into the corner of the shower, letting the water pelt at him until it ran cold. Even then, he didn’t feel like he he had the energy to drag himself out of the shower. The moment he left, he knew that he would need to decide between his devotion to you or to the…

~~

Gods were known to be all benevolent. He had experienced and executed the outcome of such goodness to many before. He thought, perhaps the gods would remember his good deeds and forgive his few misgivings in the human realm. After he finally pulled himself off the chilled floor of the shower and got dressed, he reached for the rosary tucked in the back corner of his night stand and knelt in reverence to the Heavenly bodies above.  

For the first time in a very long time, Simeon prayed before going to sleep. He pleaded for forgiveness and mercy. He prayed for a sign to save him from his inevitable fate somehow. Kneeling on the hard floor, he hoped his words could invoke the infinite benevolence of the Celestial realm to save his soul. He recited prayer after prayer, hoping that those above could excuse his lapses of judgment in his assignment to observe and understand humans. He was wrong, he had known that since the first time asked for your help. He had been so naive and confident, he had somehow lost his way.

Simeon had been so sure he could have anticipated the moment of his fall. He could have sworn all he had to do was abstain from defiling you. In his prayers, he apologized for being so simple minded, he confessed to the countless sins he committed onto your body without having tainted you. He had foolishly trusted himself too much and ended up falling for you in a way that was equally taboo.

Love.

He omitted his feelings from his prayers. If the other angels were watching, surely they would already know the truth behind his actions. It was all rooted in an intoxicating addiction to the temptation that was you. Outside of all the lewd acts, he adored you, cherished you and deeply wished he could give you the world on a platter if only he was allowed the chance to.

Yet his pride stood in the way. His stubborn need to cling onto what the Celestial realm deemed as divine kept him from sacrificing everything. Simeon hoped that his prayers would be heard as he implored the powers that be for forgiveness. If he received an answer, he could turn back. There was still time. His knees ached as he recited prayer after prayer. He hummed hymns and sang praises in a futile attempt to curry favor in his direction once more. He stayed in the corner of his room until the pain of kneeling became too much.

Ha, I must be getting old. I used to be able to do this all day...

He shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply from the heavens. It seemed that he was already beyond salvation in their eyes.  

If he had been a stronger man, he would have practiced decorum and slept in a separate room, or at least on the floor that night. However, Simeon was weak; weaker than he had ever thought he could be. His muscles and joints felt like they creaked when he finally got up and made his way to bed.

He was careful not to rouse you when he crawled feebly under the sheets and laid next to you. He could hear your deep breathing and the light snore coming from you as you slept soundly. Curling his body behind your own and wrapping his arms around you felt so right. Whatever resolve he had for keeping human temptations at bay dissolved as soon as you were in his arms and his own breathing evened out. The gods above had forsaken him, there was nothing left but to embrace the beautiful dreams that came whenever he was with you.

He would see you off in the morning, tell you how much he appreciated you and how much fun he had the night before. In a rare show of affection, he kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly before you set off for the day. He kept everything cordial and guarded his feelings close to his chest while you were still around him. As soon as you said your farewells and walked through his door, he felt his whole world fade into a grainy shade of gray. With every step you took, the color evaporated from his vision until there was nothing left but a dull monochrome.

Alas, it seemed the most disgraceful thing to the gods was the feeling of…

~~

Falling in love with Simeon was not something you expected when you first met him. Your intial impression when you first met him was that he did not fit your mental image of an author. You had expected someone much mousier and less refined. That first meeting changed your life. Not only did it begin your career, but it also planted a seed of affection deep in your heart for a soft spoken, eloquent, beautiful person. Pushing your feelings to the side had been easy enough in the beginning, you could pretend your infatuation was because of how star struck you were to work for the Christopher Peugeot.

Of course, you were young and naive to have thought those emotions would go away with time. Those budding feelings only took root and spread into what they were today. You were obsessed and hopelessly in love with a man who would never open up to you.

In the following days after you left, Simeon continued to distance himself. You didn’t blame him. You had a fair amount of thinking to do on your own. Life carried on as normal, or as normally as it could when there wasn’t a book being written. Simeon had requested a well deserved break from writing in order to brainstorm his next bestseller. There was the obligatory call that you had to make at the beginning of his break to ensure he would have something to present once his little vacation was over; but outside of that, you left him alone. It was likely for the best. Your one way infatuation with him had become an unhealthy obsession as of late and the distance would allow for you to properly sort your thoughts out.

You picked through a few freelance offers to edit short stories during the lull in your main work. It was boring and tedious, but it kept food on the table and your bills were paid on time. The shorter length and the sporadic nature of such work meant you had much more time to dwell on your thoughts. Without any outside influences like a nosy bartender or an overly familiar CEO, it was easier to sort out your feelings for Simeon and figure out how you wanted to proceed the next time you had a chance to meet him privately.

The fact that he still most likely had that chastity cage on his cock was not lost to you. Every time you thought about it, a pang of guilt ripped through your chest. You had done a fair number of things to push his boundaries and you couldn’t blame him if he hated you. There was a hollowness in his voice when he saw you off that rang in your head. You always thought his eyes had a bright life and joy to them, but if you thought too much about that day, you could recall how dull and dark they were even when he smiled.

You hated to think that you could be the reason why he was like that.

You wanted to contact him and maybe discuss things between the two of you, preferably without Lucifer. Your feelings and infatuation was with Simeon and no one else. After days of contemplating the events of your last session, you came to the conclusion that whether or not Simeon would fuck you was a negligible aspect of your relationship with him. You needed to stop pushing him and let him come to you when he was ready. Sure, it was frustrating when he didn’t express his needs, but you never considered that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t comfortable enough around you to do so.

He trusted his body to you. Upon reflection, it felt like you had taken everything he gave you for granted. The importance of his actions and words were all disregarded in favor of what you wanted. The guilt of such neglect ate at you from the inside. Now, the least you could do in repentance was respect his wishes and his need for space. You had expected him to reach out to you once his break started, but it had been a dead radio silence ever since he announced it. You worried about his well being constantly, checking your phone as soon as you woke and right before you went to bed for any messages. You caught yourself mindlessly refreshing your phone for hours on end, hoping that he would be the first to contact you.

Nothing.

Then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised when there was no reply to your wordless prayers.

The pain of distance you experienced now was a necessity. You needed to accept that and practice patience if you wanted to have another chance to make things right. The heartache from being so far apart for so long ate away at your soul, but you knew it was something that you deserved it. Day by day, as you continued to wait patiently, the color in your world drained away into a grainy shade of…

~~

Grey skies were common at the end of winter. They fit well with his outlook on life these days. Simeon walked a lot, now. He let his feet wander and take him to no goal in particular. It was an odd sort of meditation in a way and it let him clear his mind in a way that his home could no longer do. Every surface and corner of his abode reminded him of you. Getting out and breathing in the crisp, cold air cleansed his mind and his lungs.

He’d wander until he couldn’t feel his legs or his nose. At first, the cold winds whipped and cut his skin, making his lips crack and bleed if he spent too much time out. However, he got used to it quickly. The mixture of pain and peace brought him a calm that couldn’t be achieved elsewhere. He loved the soft quiet that came with snow. It muffled the sounds of the city as well as the sounds of his heart beating. The peaceful atmosphere soothed the frazzled edges of his mind and amplified the hollow feeling of loneliness in his chest.

Simeon didn’t take a heavy coat with him whenever he went out. A sweater was sufficient for his needs. He may or may not have received odd stares, but he couldn’t be bothered. None of those people mattered to him anyway. He only sought the approval of two beings and one of them had turned their back on him when he begged for a bit of forgiveness.

Winter was letting up slowly, giving way to chilly rains which soaked him to the bone whenever he took one of his long walks. He usually didn’t mind it, but when the rain became a downpour, he had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere until the worst of the storm was over. Looking at his surroundings, he could have laughed when he saw his feet had somehow taken him all the way to your neighborhood.

He had maybe visited you a handful of times since he first met you. It wasn’t often he got a chance to go see you considering your work revolved around him. He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice and hold you. That desire was enough to make him take a step towards your door. As he got closer, he could hear a part of him tell him to turn away before he fell any deeper for you.

Unfortunately for that rational part of him, falling didn’t scare him anymore. With the Celestial Realm averting its gaze from him, he was free to accept the darkness that he willingly cultivated within himself. If anything, it meant he was allowed to feel something besides emptiness. He didn’t deserve the chance to see you again, but it did nothing to stop the desires

Simeon was knocking on your door before he realized what he was doing. His body seemed to move on its own when it knew you were close. You drew him towards you like a moth to a flame and he would be forever entranced by you. As your door opened, a gust of warm air washed over his body and the gray world around him shattered into a thousand brightly colored pieces. “I… I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

His voice sounded foreign to him, the most familiar thing he knew was your soft expression as you lead him indoors away from the cold.

“You’re lucky I was in the middle of getting a bath ready.”  you said as you hurriedly shuffled his soaked frame to the bathroom once his shoes were off. An inviting tub full of steaming hot water was waiting for him when you finally got him through the door of your bath room. He took a deep breath and the scent of sandalwood and oranges filled his lungs. He recognized it as the scent that always lingered on your clothes over your perfume. Just having his senses filled with something that reminded him of you warmed him much more than the balmy temperature of the bathroom.

“I think I have something that might fit you, if not I definitely have a robe.” you mumbled to yourself, already pulling out a spare towel out of a nearby cabinet for him. “Just leave the wet clothes on the floor, I’ll throw them in the wash for you when you’re done.”

You scurried off to dig through your closet in search for spare clothes, leaving him to him to his own devices. Simeon sighed, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks. Finally seeing you in person, he needed to accept just how much he missed you and just how whenever you were around, his world was…

~~

Colorful clothes of all sorts were strewn across your bedroom floor as you tried to find that over-sized sweater you swore you saw just the other day. You didn’t want Simeon to wear just a robe, the one you owned was likely too small for him, but it looked like you wouldn’t have a choice in that matter considering you didn’t think anything else you owned would fit him.

He had appeared at your door like the answer to your prayers. You were getting antsy from the dead air between the two of you and it had been shaping up to be another day of listlessly staring at your phone while you waited for a message. With the storm brewing outside, you had fancied a nice long bath to combat both the cold and the dreary weather. Just as you were ready to hop in, you heard the knocking at your door.

Seeing Simeon so drenched and pitiful broke your heart. It didn’t matter why, or how he had arrived at your abode, you immediately dragged him to the bath as soon as you could. He clearly needed it more than you. It also meant he deserved much better than a too small robe to wrap himself in after he was done soaking. Unfortunately, it seemed like there would be no other options considering you couldn’t find that damn sweater you were thinking about.

Tiptoeing back to the bathroom, you knocked softly before cracking the door open. “Hey, I found a robe, it… just might not fit you, sorry about that.” you apologized, feeling like a terrible host. You stuck your hand through the crack and laid the robe on the sink, ready to slink away and let him have his space. Even if you wanted to be near him, you needed to remind yourself that he would approach you when he was ready, you couldn’t rush or push him more than you already had.

You grew concerned though when he didn’t respond to your intrusion. Curiosity got the better of you and you pushed the door open a bit more to see if he was alright. The sight you were greeted with was not what you expected, to say the least.

Simeon sat in the tub, staring blankly at the tiles in front of him. He looked like he was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Most concerning of all was the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to take his clothes off. He was still wearing the rain drenched sweater and faded jeans he arrived in.

“Simeon?” You called out to him, quietly padding closer to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. He turned sluggishly and gave you the barest nod. The bright blues of his eyes was so dull and dark, you worried he had somehow gotten sick in the short time you had left him on his own.

Kneeling down next to the tub, you peeled off the sodden sweater off his torso, tossing the thing into the sink before looking down at his jeans. He didn’t say anything to you as you went through the clinical actions of stripping him for the sake of his comfort. Your hand brushed against the metal bindings around his cock and he let out a hiss, the first indication that he was really aware of what was going on around him.

“Simeon, are you--”

“I’m fine.” he cut in. “I’m fine.”

There was no conviction in his voice as he tried to reassure you. He repeated those words over and over again as if they were a mantra, mumbling them under his breath. “I’m fine...”

His voice cracked when he looked at you, unshed tears being barely held back. No matter how much he told himself that the Heavens didn’t care and all he had to do was just accept the fall, he couldn’t shake off the fear of the consequences. There you were, inches away from him, calling for him as if you could hear his desperate prayers for salvation.

If the Heavenly Father would no longer listen, he at least had you. With you, any consequence was bearable.

“I’m fine. As long as I’m with you...” He whispered, pulling you closer to him for a slow, tender kiss.

When his lips met yours, a warmth blossomed throughout him. The hollow ache in his chest was immediately filled with a pleasant fluttering that spread through his limbs. Your unique aroma overpowered the perfume of sandalwood and oranges in the water. The cloying combination made him dizzy and drunk with his affection for you. The smell would forever be connected to the last temptation that made an angel fall.

His cradled the back of your head as he kissed you like it was the first time. The taste of your lips was sweeter than the ripened celestial peaches that immortals coveted so much. He breathed out slowly through his nose before taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of love and his impending fall from grace.

You moaned softly against his lips, gasping for breath from how tender yet passionate it had all been. He took that moment to swipe his tongue across your lower lip before delving into the caverns of your mouth and deepening the kiss even further. The sounds Lucifer elicited from you would be nothing compared to the songs he would get you to sing under his touch.

When he finally broke the kiss on his own terms, your lips were swollen and glistened with his saliva. The light in his eyes had returned and you noticed the familiar hard glitter of desire in them. He pulled you into a tight embrace, half dragging you into the tub with him to kiss the rest of your face and whatever skin he could get access to. You squealed in surprise, stumbling to keep your balance and pressed yourself against him. His breath was hot against your ear as he continued to press his lips everywhere he could. “I… I want you… Will you have me?”

You could barely believe what you heard. You wanted to pull away and look at him properly, but his embrace was strong and held firm. The kisses he laid on your skin traveled down your neck and you held back a shudder when he brushed across a sensitive spot. “I… is this what you want?”

“More than anything.”

He let you have a bit of distance so you could look at sincerity in his expression. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice and the glitter of desire in his eyes had changed into a bright flame of lust. There was no way you could deny such a request. You had been waiting for him to say those words for so long. The weight of guilt on your chest crumbled away and there was nothing but elation left. All the anxiety, all the waiting, all of the trials and tribulations was so worth it for the moment he earnestly asked to be with you.

“Then you shall have me.”

The smile that spread across his lips was surely divine. No one should be allowed to be as beautiful as he was. Simeon could barely believe you had agreed. He knew he didn’t deserve you; but now, he had all the time in the world to persuade you otherwise. Heavens be damned, he loved you and he had the freedom to show you exactly what that meant to him.

Removing your partially wet clothes felt like unwrapping the best present in the world. He felt like he was truly seeing you for the first time. He memorized every detail of your body with his lips, followed by his fingers. Your soft, breathy moans would be emblazoned in his mind for the rest of his life as the most holy of hymns.

He was loathed to be separated from you for any amount of time; but your knees were beginning to ache from kneeling, your position was less than ideal, and the tub was much too small to fit both of you. Begrudgingly, he let you go, only to usher you to your room with a gently wave of his hand.

“Just a moment, Little Lamb. I will follow shortly.” He reassured, his voice syrupy and low. The promises that it held sent a shiver down your spine. You hurried to the room as he directed, eagerly divesting the rest of your clothes as soon as you got the chance to.

He arrived in your room shortly after as he promised. The robe you had given had been unnecessary as he opted to have a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Even then, that was about to be a frivolous exercise in modesty as he tossed it to the side the moment he saw that you were also nude. In the dim light of your room, the metal cage he so obediently wore glimmered and the familiar feeling of guilt rushed through you.

You beckoned him over to you and you swore he purposefully put a little extra sway in his hips as he approached you. The bed dipped with his added weight and you immediately pulled him into another round of slow, sensual kisses. Now that there were no clothes in the way, you were free to explore his body just as much as he did to you.

It felt like a dream to share your bed with Simeon. You had only fantasized about the possibility of something like this happening. The moment was made more magical knowing he sought you out. He had been with you enough times to know exactly where to touch you in order to draw a moan from the back of your throat. However, there was a sort of intimacy this time around that couldn’t be denied. “Wait… Wait...” you breathlessly put a pause on everything to rummage through the drawer of your night stand.

Pulling out the tiny key to the lock on the cage, you were quick to undo the damned thing and toss it to the side. It had seemed like a great idea at first when Lucifer subtly suggested it, however it had brought nothing but anguish and guilt in the end for you. You were glad to be rid of it, the accursed thing clattered to the ground as you carelessly tossed it to the side before refocusing on the man before you. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long now...”

“And I’ve wanted you for so long.” He replied smoothly, pushing you down onto covers and resuming his ministrations. Having his cock freed from those dreaded confines meant he was free to take you as he wished. His resolve wouldn’t waver, not when he was already forsaken and he was staring love in the face. He felt like he was being reborn every with every second that passed.

Simeon’s knee pressed between your legs and you eagerly spread yourself wider for him. He contemplated for a brief moment the idea of burying his head between your legs and tasting you until you were a shivering mess from his tongue. However, the need to sate himself and lay his claim in you overrode his desire to tease you.

His hands smoothed down your thighs before he hooked your legs around his waist. “I want you. I want you. I want you so much.” He leaned forward to kiss your neck, your chest, your collarbones, your shoulders, everywhere he could get access to before his patience snapped and he finally, blissfully pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Simeon took his time, watching your expression change as every inch of him sank into you. He let out a long, guttural groan when he finally, blissfully, bottomed out inside of you. You were his sun, his moon, his stars. You were all that was good and was divine to him. He would happily desert the kingdom of gods to make you his paradise. Without you, he wouldn’t have fallen. Without you, he had no reason to live.

“Oh God, Simeon.” You whined, your eyelids fluttered as he filled you. You knew he would have taken his time, but you didn’t expect him to slide in so excruciatingly slowly. He made your body feel every ridge and vein of his cock, forcing it to memorize his shape and size, molding your cunt to fit him and only him forevermore.

“There is no God, there’s just me.” He seethed at the mention of the Heavenly Father. “There’s just me and you, and what I’m going to make you feel.”

Simeon was everything you had imagined he would be and more. He was so attentive, sweet and he knew just how to make you moan. His cock hit every spot within you that made you see stars. Though the pace he started off was languid and slow, he was quick to pick up speed when he saw just how positively you reacted to deeper and harder thrusts. It seemed like he effortlessly had you clutching onto the sheets below you and crying out for him.

“Mine.” He growled, slamming his hips into you. “Mine.”

He wouldn’t let anyone else interfere. He had made his decision and he would make sure that you could never desire anyone else ever again. His kisses turned into bites, leaving intents and marks across your body as he laid his claim. He gave everything to be with you and the feeling of being so intimately connected with you was divine.

The way you moaned his name as he railed you was unlike any other. It was his name that fell from your lips. Not some other man, not some unintelligible babbling. You were calling for him every time his cock slid home and filled you to the brim.

His desire to see you dripping with his seed only increased every time you begged him to go harder. Simeon was more than happy to comply with your wishes, letting the sound of skin slapping against skin echo in your room. The smell of sandalwood and oranges was soon overtaken by the scent of sex as you met every one of his thrusts with a roll of your hips.

Sweat plastered his hair to his face, his breath came out in heavy pants and he could feel how close you were to your climax every time you clenched around his length. “Ah, Little Lamb, will you cum for me, soon?” He asked sweetly against your ear.

“Yes, soon.” You confirmed, wrapping your legs around him tightly, urging him to keep going. Finally being filled with him was an absolutely transcendent experience that you wanted to last forever. You were afraid that the moment it was over, he would once again return to holding you politely at arms distance. It all felt like a dream to you and you didn’t want to wake up. “Fuck, Simeon! Ahhh~”

It seemed as though your body had other ideas. With how Simeon rubbed against your inner walls, you couldn’t last for the eternity you wished for. You screamed his name as your climax overtook you, the edges of your vision going white from the intensity of it. Frantically, you pulled him towards you for heated kisses as you rode out the high of your orgasm. Your walls fluttered around his cock, milking him encouraging him to follow you into bliss.

He wasn’t far behind you. The way you pussy hugged him and pulled him even deeper into you was all the encouragement he needed to finish the deed. His pace stuttered and he rammed himself home, once, twice, thrice before holding your hips still as he spilled his load into you.

Outside, the rain storm had turned to snow. A quick, bleary glance over at your window and you could have sworn the big, fluffy flakes looked like thousands of white feathers falling from the skies. Simeon groaned in content and exhaustion, feeling the last vestiges of what divinity he had leave him only to be replaced with an all consuming devotion to you.

He collapsed gracelessly on top of you, unwilling to depart from the warm confines of your pussy as he reveled in the feeling of his fall. You caught him him, cradling him against your chest and waited patiently for him to ride out his own high. “I love you.” he murmured softly, getting up just enough to kiss your forehead softly.

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long.” You admitted, your cheeks warming at the affectionate gesture. “I love you, too.”

“Say it again.” he demanded, kissing your forehead again. “Say it again and again and again. Never stop saying it.”

“I love you.” You reiterated, giggling and rolling over so you were laying on his chest. “I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you, my Angel.”

The descent to Hell was a long one, but as long as you caught him when he Fell, it was worth it.

[sodoyouknowbts]

Jin x Reader - Timelines (Seven)

Part of the ‘Souls’ Series

Summary: Jin is a time traveler, trying to get a grip of his ability. He can’t quite figure out why he keeps travelling to times and moments with you.

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: Time slip, time travel, romance, soul mates

Author: Pilot

Chapters: 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 (Final)

“Are you sure you’re okay with that box?” Jin asks from the door. He’s holding your fiddle leaf fig against his body while he’s trying to balance your bedside lamp under one arm. Why you were so persistent in bringing the lamp he had no idea, since there was no room for it in his bedroom.

You look up at him and smile as you try to drag the box you had along the floor, holding weakly onto one of the cardboard flaps, using it as a handle. The flap suddenly tears and you stumble backwards, falling hard. You let out a yelp and he sighs, laughing, rushing over to you. Jin carefully juggles the fig in his arms and places it on the floor followed by the lamp. He pulls you up and you pout.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, my pride is a little bruised.”

He lightly smacks your bum and pulls you in closer to him, hugging you.

You had decided to move in with him. After having been together for a year now, it was time. You had never felt this way about anyone. Never so sure and never so complete. Jin eventually releases you from the hug and begins to poke around the box that you had been dragging unsuccessfully along the floor. He spots your polaroid camera and pulls it out. You leave him there while you head back outside to get the last few bits and pieces that were still in the car. When you come back, Jin’s inserting another roll of polaroid film into the camera, snapping the back of it shut. 

“What are you doing?” You ask him, raising one eyebrow as you put another box down in the hallway.

“Hm? Nothing.” he says mischievously, shoving what you figured to be polaroids in to his pockets. He puts the camera down and walks over to you, pulling you into a back hug. He slides his hands into the front pocket of your hoodie and you rest your body against his chest.

“Why do you have to go?” You ask him. Jin was leaving tomorrow for three weeks on a medical conference. “Why can’t you just stay here, with me?” You know he can’t but you’re hopeful anyway. he didn’t have work tomorrow but unfortunately, you did. All you wanted to do was not go and instead spend as much time with his as possible. This was going to be the longest time you would be away from each other.

“I know, bad timing huh?” He looks around the apartment. It was a bit of a mess, your things everywhere. He had wanted to spend more time with you, to welcome you properly. Jin was already feeling sorry and guilty and the clock hadn’t started yet. He still had today and tomorrow.

“Come on. Let’s finish up.”

//

You were late for work. You slid yourself into your seat and put your bag in your drawer. You pin up another polaroid that Jin had made you take that morning. It was the two of you, him bright and awake and you, groggy with your hair a mess and your eyes half open. Jin had scribbled the time and date on the photograph, adamant you took it to work to pin up in your cubicle, to celebrate the first night and morning you had spent in your newly shared apartment together.

You admired the other photographs, a few other polaroids, date and time scribbled at the bottom of each by Jin, a card he had given you to celebrate your first anniversary, the receipt for the coffee he had bought you after you had bumped into him that fateful day - the first time you had met him when you had spilt coffee all over his jumper. 

You smile to yourself, remembering the morning. Jin had woken you up with breakfast in bed, a stack of pancakes, lightly buttered and oozing with honey. He had topped them off with freshly cut strawberries and a sprinkle of icing sugar for good measure. After breakfast, you had gotten showered and were in the middle of getting dressed when he pulled you back to bed, covering you with his bedsheets and his body.

Jin’s flight was that evening. Although he had the day off, you unfortunately, didn’t. You look down at your watch. You didn’t have any interviews scheduled this week. Thank goodness you thought to yourself. It meant you could finally visit Mr Cha who was leaving Seoul soon. You hadn’t seen him for a long while since his operation and life had just gotten in the way for you.

“Y/N?” Your work colleague had calls out to you. “I just came across this!” She approaches you, waving around an old news article in her hands. She had been archiving old news articles for the past week. You look at her, confused and expectant.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you think this guy looks like Jin?!” She holds the paper out in front of you, a little too close to your face and you can’t focus your vision. You grab it from her and hold it back at a reasonable distance, frowning.

“What?”

“Here!” she says, impatiently, tapping on the photograph that accompanied the news article. Your heart pangs. It’s a photograph of the scene, a woman on a stretcher, paramedics around her as they haul her into the ambulance, a young boy in the corner holding onto the coat of a man standing just at the edge of the frame. The person in the photograph looks eerily like Jin.

“See? I’m right. He does look like Jin.”

You look up at her, your eyes wide. You look over to the images you had up in your cubicle. You had just seen Jin this morning, perfect, handsome. He looked as he had in all of your photographs, including the one your colleague had taken when he had won the award, when he had taken your hand in his and admitted his feelings to you. When he had asked you out on a date. That news article was special to you. You stare at it, holding the article your colleague had handed you up next to it.

It can’t be.

//

You’re distracted tonight, he can tell. He had come after work to pick you up, a bouquet of blue and white flowers in his hands. You had spent a majority of the day trying to shrug it off, thinking it was just a coincidence, the camera angle, maybe? Maybe a doppelgänger?

He links his fingers with yours and walks home with you, hand in hand back to his apartment. Your apartment. He had made dinner, pasta. Your favourite. He had chocolate mousse setting in the fridge and a few surprises he had scattered around the apartment for you should you miss him for the next three weeks.

You’re lost in your thoughts, eyes glazed over although staring at the book in your hands. Sounds of a piano gracefully floated through the speakers in Jin’s apartment. He’s laying his head down on your lap as you read. All he feels is happiness, a full stomach and pure happiness.

He glances at the clock, figuring it’s about time he does the dishes. He’d have to leave for the airport soon. He gets up and it startles you, pulling you back from your thoughts. You couldn’t stop thinking about that photograph. Even the outfit was somewhat similar to something you had seen him wear before.

Jin clears the dishes up from the dining room table and leans over the back of the couch, planting a kiss on your cheek. You bring your hand up to his face and touch his skin in response. He chuckles to himself and moves back to the kitchen. You turn to watch him. He pulls on dishwashing gloves and squeezes dishwashing liquid into the sink. 

You feel a sudden urge to hold him and hug him, a little insecure as to what you were feeling and thinking. You get up and hand him the small and empty bowl and spoon and he takes them from you, dishwashing gloves soapy. You turn back to the couch to sit back down but pause, hesitating. Instead your feet move back behind him and your arms, a little unsure, pull him into a hug. You feel better next to him. You rest your cheek on his back and you can feel his muscles move as he washes the dishes. 

Jin smiles to himself at the action. Unable to resist, he slowly pulls the dishwashing gloves off and turns around. He’s smiling that little lopsided smile that you love and you can’t help but smile back. Jin bends forward, placing a kiss on your lips, softly at first. Soon his hands find their way down to your waist and pull you in to his body, tightly. The kiss becomes more passionate, filled with need. It makes you feel dizzy. You take a breath when you come back for air and you notice how he’s looking at you with his kind eyes.

He’s so happy. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you, how everything seemed to have worked out... His train of thought slowly takes a turn, a small niggling in the back of his mind surfacing. When was he going to tell you about his abilities? He still hadn’t been completely honest with you. He blinks and clears his head. Not yet.

Jin just wants to focus on you, now, in this moment. Swiftly, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. In response you wrap your legs around his waist. You take his face in his hands and kiss him, desperately, passionately. 

“You’ll be late for your flight.” you murmur between breaths.

He had two hours to get to the airport and check in. He’d have to leave in ten minutes if he wanted to leave enough time. Traffic in the evenings was unreliable. 

“I won’t be. It will be fine.” he says, so sure. You frown at him but before you can object further he takes you to his bedroom and lays you down on the soft sheets of your bed, the dishes forgotten in the sink.

//

You watch as he opens the door and wheels his suitcase outside of the apartment. You’re leaning against the wall, wrapped up in a dressing gown. Your eyes trail over him. He’s wearing a long coat, a plain white t-shirt and his slacks. You head back to the bedroom and rummage through the closet, finding a brown scarf. You take it in your hands and go up to him, wrapping it around his neck.

“Stay safe. Please.” 

Jin looks at you, soaking in all of your details. He can’t pull himself away from you, he doesn't want to. He leaves you lingering kisses and finally pulls himself away, a smile pulling at his lips. He goes to leave but he turns back around, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing your soft skin again.

You watch as he walks down the corridor and turns the corner, blowing one last kiss to you.

You catch it, closing your fist over your heart.

//

You wake up the next morning, and stretch, extending your arm out to the space where Jin would lay. It feels odd that his warm body was not next to yours. Groggy, you get up and make your way to the bathroom.

You open the cupboard door and rub your eyes, squinting. There was something stuck on the inside of the door. It’s a polaroid of Jin, a selfie that he had taken of him brushing his teeth. You let out a laugh and decide to leave it there.

You finish washing up and head out to the kitchen, ready to make yourself some toast. You go to flick the switch and see another polaroid of Jin, this time he’s pointing at the switch, you already know why. To make sure you turn it off. You sigh, smiling. You butter your toast and remember to switch off the toaster at the wall.

As you walk through the apartment, going about your morning routine, you find little pictures he had taken yesterday, just for you. You fight the urge to hunt for the rest, instead allowing yourself to come across them in sweet little surprises. It hadn’t even been the first day and you already missed him.

//

“Mr Cha!” you yell out, waving to him. You quickly place your bag down on the table and give him a hug. He puts his hand on your shoulder and pats your arm, happy to see you after so long.

You laugh and sit down. A waitress comes to take your order and you order two coffees. You’re in the midst of catching up with him when they’re set down in front of you.

“You seem really happy.” He says, out of no where. He’s watching as you sip on your coffee, licking the foam from the cappuccino from your lips.

“I am.”

“Any particular reason?” he asks, watching you, a funny look in his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile immediately, thinking about Jin. 

“So kid, how are you going?”

“Good. Well.” You say. “Although I should be asking you this. How are you? The last time I saw you was when you had just had your operation - I believe Jin was there and I went out to get food.”

Mr Cha nods at the recollection.

“Did you ever get the chocolate bars from the nurse?” You continue.

“Chocolate bars?” He thinks for a moment, then chuckles. “I did! She reluctantly gave them to me after she saw me. She said I needed to diet!”

He takes a bite of a biscuit. “My doctor at the time, Jin. It seemed like you knew each other?” Mr Cha prods, curious.

“Yes... We’re together. I just moved in with him, actually.” 

You look down at the coffee cup in your hands. “The first time I had met him, I had actually bumped into him and spilt coffee down his jumper.” You continue.

“Are you sure that’s the first time you met him?” Mr Cha says, softly.

“Huh?”

Mr Cha doesn’t respond or repeat what he had mumbled, instead making himself busy by taking a prolonged sip of coffee.

“How’s your heart?”

“It’s settled. There was a scare though, about a year ago...” You shudder at the thought. “It failed again last year, luckily Jin was there. I would have been dead if not for Jin getting there when he did.”

Mr Cha nods, hesitant to continue prodding. He’s a little thrown by the fact that after all this time, you still didn’t know.

“Do you remember when you were in high school?” He asks, putting his cup down. “When your heart had given out?”

“Yeah, it was right after some extra study and before the final exam week. That was intense. I have no one to thank but you for saving my life.”

Mr Cha searches your eyes. “I wasn’t the one who saved your life. Do you remember a young man - you had asked me to give him a gift as thanks, for being the one to save your life. A pink phone charm.” He quickly pushes the conversation along, almost regretting starting on this topic. “I just wanted to see if you remembered, that’s all. I kept my word. I gave him the charm, even though you could have given it to him yourself. You were pretending to be asleep.”

You frown, trying to remember. A previously hazy memory floats to the forefront. You put your face in your hands, feeling embarrassment. You could remember pretending to sleep and trying to catch glimpses at your rescuer, but you couldn't remember what he looked like.

Mr Cha laughs, finishing his cup of coffee and changes the conversation again.

//

You return home and slowly make your way to the bedroom, taking off your jacket and placing it on the bed, hoping that with every item of clothing you peel off it takes away every disconcerting thought you had had that day. 

After your conversation with Mr Cha, small snippets and memories had started to flood back to you. You swear he had questioned whether or not that was the first time you had met Jin. Now that Jin wasn’t around and you weren’t focused on trying to spend as much time with him as possible before he left, your mind had gotten distracted again.

Every thought about the article, the words that Mr Cha had said earlier that day that he didn’t want to repeat. The mentioning of a second person saving you... You head to the bathroom and begin to run the water. You sigh and step inside, letting the water wash over you. Your mind wanders to a year ago, when your heart had last given out.

You had given yourself enough time to get ready and you swore it was only just after 6 pm that you had stepped into the shower. You had a routine, always washing your hair first immediately and then going onto the rest of your body. You had only taken a few minutes to wash your hair and it was soon after that, that you had felt your chest constrict. You had sat down in the bath, feeling weak. You remembered praying for it to pass. And it had, for a moment. After that everything else was black.

You sigh, watching as the steam moved up to the ceiling of the bathroom. How did Jin get there? Jin had said he’d tried the lock until he could get in but now... You finish up and step out of the bathroom, the apartment quiet, all of your noises echoing. Suddenly curious, you decide to search for a copy of your medical records.

You dry up and change into your pyjamas and begin to rummage through the apartment, determined to locate a copy of your medical file. You go to the study and head over to the desk. You pull open a drawer and close it. You pause. Something glittery catches your eye.

You pull the drawer back open and pull out the shiny object. You hold it out in front of you, up to the light. A rainbow reflects from the shards of crystal. It was your phone charm.

You drop it, realisation hitting you. The charm falls onto the rug underneath your feet with a soft and light thud. A memory that had seemed hazy was so clear now. You could see him in your memories. Jin. Standing there, by the side of the hospital bed you were in when you were younger, much younger. He had been wearing the same clothes he was wearing the day you had visited Mr Cha in the hospital.

You shake your head. It couldn’t be.

Your mind goes forward, thinking about how it was raining, how Jin had called you, on his damn pink flip phone. How Jin had run through the rain to reach you, to hug you. How he had breathed into your hair, saying how he was glad you were okay. The hug, in the night a year or so ago. The glint of a pink phone charm hanging off his phone.

You clutch at your head and sink into the carpet. A memory that had been trying to make its way to the surface finally does and your head pounds, hard. Jin. Jin had saved your life when you were younger. Jin had your phone charm. But... how? He was the same age then as he was now. Was he actually secretly fifty but had incredible genes? You think to yourself, laughing somewhat manically at the thought. Was this why he wasn’t phased about missing his flight? Because he had no reason to be?

Panicking, you begin to quickly move through the study, more needy than ever to find the records. And then you see it, a copy of your file tucked between some other books. You flip open the pages, reading your admission notes. Your eyes scan the pages, trying hard to focus. 6.07 pm. The paramedics received the call. 6.19 pm. They had arrived at your apartment. You begin to freak out. What could have explained Jin’s ability to get there in such a short amount of time? How could he have called them at 6.07 pm?

He had texted you just before you had gotten into the shower , saying that he had just finished up. Sure, the hospital was close to your apartment but it wasn’t that close that he could run from one to the other in fifteen minutes. It was a ten minute drive by car. And he wouldn’t have had a reason to. You stare at the files in your hands. Nothing made sense.

//

The door to the apartment clicks. Jin enters, wheeling his suitcase in, dropping his bag down on the table of the dining room. You’re in the kitchen, making yourself some tea, trying to keep calm.

You had spent the last few weeks trying to make logical sense of everything and yet, you couldn’t. You had lost so much sleep. Your heart and mind were in complete disarray. To make matters worse, you had missed him and had come across an assortment of other sweet polaroid photographs he had left as gifts for you around the apartment. With everything you had discovered, you weren't sure what to think or how to feel about them or about him.

Jin walks up to you, going to pull you in for a hug. “Hey babe, I’ve missed -”

You move away, unconsciously. You only wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and to make sense of it all but you couldn’t bear the touch, not at the moment.

He frowns at you, confused. You hadn't seen each other for three weeks and you had been responding weirdly to his messages, never once picking up the phone to answer his calls.

You walk over to the dining room table, picking up a copy of the newspaper article and taking the phone charm in your hands. Dread fills him.

Jin groans internally, upon eyeing both items. The charm. He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it coming. He had wanted to keep it because it was the first gift you had given him, but he hadn’t been ready at the time to talk to you about it and he just hadn’t been careful enough in hiding it from you. He got too caught up in the idea of you living together.

He eyes the article, recognising himself in the frame of the photograph almost instantly. He hadn’t travelled, not for a long time, but he had travelled a little while ago, to a place that hadn’t made any sense to him what so ever. 

Jin had determined a long while ago that a majority of the times he had travelled was to you, or to a specific event in his own life. He had learnt how to control it, figuring your souls were connected. This instance, he found himself on the street outside of your newspaper company, watching as a car hit a young mother and her son as they crossed he pedestrian crossing.

He had done what anyone would have, he ran over to her and tried his best to save her life. Her son was okay, shaken and bruised but the impact had been taken by the mother. A paparazzi happened to be there at the time, but he hadn’t realised a photograph had been taken of him.

You take his hands, placing the charm in the palm of one and the news article in the other.

“I think these are yours.” You say, cooly. You had gone through various scenarios in your mind the past few weeks, uncertain what you would say or how you would react or what the answer was to everything.

He closes his eyes. It’s time.

“Please. Let me explain.” Jin starts. He puts the charm and article back down on the table and steps towards you. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” he takes a breath and continues, nervousness lapping at him. “I can travel through time.”

You freeze, goosebumps running across your body. You had considered the thought, that he had travelled through time. That or he was a vampire. He reaches out to touch your hand again and you pull away. He continues on, sighing.

“To be more specific, I can travel through time and space.” He runs his hand through his hair, frustrated.

“The coffee shop was the first time I met you. I didn’t know at the time, why I had suddenly been transported to you, to then, of all times.” He looks at you, searching your expression.

You’re still saying nothing and he continues on, a ball of nerves. He hadn't seen you in three weeks and all he had looked forward to was to see you and now, now he was in this weird moment with you where you had found out on your own. Why hadn’t he just told you earlier, before it got as serious as it had? He prayed you’d forgive him and understand. 

“And then after I met you properly I kept travelling to different moments in your life. The fourth time I had met you I had travelled back in time at the school -”

“So it was you?”

“What?”

“It was you. That had saved me. When I was younger.”

The memory hits Jin again, hard. “Yes.”

“A year ago, the second time you - you saved me. Was that because...?” you trail off. You needed to hear him say it. Everything else you had gone over the past three weeks was speculation.

“Yes...” he sighs, exasperated, feeling pain in his heart. He had been so close to losing you then. “I felt myself being pulled to you and I found myself in your bathroom. I pulled you out but barely. I couldn’t control my abilities at all.”

Jin steps closer to you, lifting his hand up to touch your arm.

Your body retracts unconsciously and you feel annoyance and regret wash over you for both the action and the fact that you were feeling this way. You knew everything he was saying was the weirdest truth, but it was still the truth. He spoke with such sincerity and his eyes, his eyes didn’t lie. But he had kept this from you all this time.

“I think - no. I know. I know we’re soul mates. That’s why I have these abilities. Somewhere along the track I think my soul was trying to find yours. And when it found you, it did everything it could to be with you. I did everything I could.”

The words wash over you and you scoff, tears brimming in your eyes. But you never told me. You think.

You find yourself staring at him, getting sucked into his brown eyes which are fraught with guilt. He looks at you, concerned. You couldn’t take it, his stare, how he was trying to search your eyes. You just wanted it to stop. You didn’t want to be in the same room as him. Something in you snaps. 

You shouldn’t have asked. You shouldn’t have poked and prodded and tried to extract answers from him, not tonight. Not when you had so much swimming through your mind that you weren’t sure you could even think straight anymore.  

You thought you could work through it on your own, over the few weeks you had been apart. Instead you felt drained, exhausted, your mind a mess. Thoughts and contradicting memories had filled your head.

He steps toward you again and you step backwards. He says your name lowly, softly. 

“No matter what. I love you.” he says, the words filling you up, overwhelming you. You forget to breathe for a moment.

On any other occasion, before you had known, hearing him say those three words would have excited you, knocked you off your feet. Made your heart beat fast and make you want to do nothing but hold him in your arms. But would tonight? He had lied to you, this whole time. Your emotions catch in your throat. You hate yourself for having sprung this on him, just as he had stepped through the door. You hate yourself for not knowing sooner.

“Please leave.” The words spew from your mouth like acid. As they fall from your lips you wish you could be the one to rewind time. To do this over. Re-do all of it.

Jin’s eyes widen. He had expected this would be one of the things you would have said, how you’d react, which was maybe why he was always so scared to say anything to you. To tell you the truth but now, hearing it, it felt so foreign and confronting to him.

“What do you mean, leave?”

“I can’t do this right now.” You throw your hands up in the air, tensing them slowly into fists, clenching your jaw. You bring them down and put them by your side. You’re feeling confused and hurt.

“Do you really mean that? Do you really want me to leave?”

Say no. He thinks.

You were scared. All you wanted to be, was alone. Away from him. You felt like running far away. Why did you think you could handle this?

“Yes.” You bite your lip.

He’s hurt, his face has fallen completely. This couldn’t be it, could it?

Jin reaches for your hand and you pull away again.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me.” You breathe, tears streaming down your face. You’re saying the opposite of what you want. All you want is for him to pull you in his arms, to comfort you, to tell you it’s all okay. Why were you acting this way?

“Please. Look at me.”

You turn away again, straightening yourself up and trying to regain composure. Your eyes narrow, sharp and angry. You look at him, he’s in anguish, eyes glassy. Jin says your name again, his voice wavering.

He could feel it, this sudden and intense distrust, the confusion and hurt seeping from you. All he could feel was regret. He had found you, had fallen in love with you with every fibre of his being, constantly at war with the logic in his head. Reason had told him not to, had warned him that this was a bad idea. His heart had gotten the better of him.

“Leave.” you say again, softly, without strength, hands bunched in fists by your side, trembling. 

He knew you were going to find out eventually but this - it wasn’t something he had foreseen. He stood there, sorry and helpless. Jin closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, as everything begins to move around him. The sensation was one he knew all too well, but this time, he hadn’t made it happen. This time he had no strength to fight it. 

And for the first time, in front of your eyes, you watch as he disappears. He’s there one moment and gone the next.

You can’t breathe and for a second your tears have stopped, too confused and shocked to understand what had just happened. After a moment you sink to the floor. Your tears begin to fall onto the kitchen tiles, hard and fast, a stabbing, wretched pain in your chest, almost as if your soul had been torn apart.

To be continued

[mychemicalrant]

The Bed

Hey, I know I’ve been talking a lot about autism and stuff lately, but remember my old friend OCD? I washed my bed sheets yesterday. I haven’t washed them in almost a year (I know, eww, gross) due to the difficulties I have with contamination OCD. I bathe every night before I get into bed, and that makes them last much longer than if I didn’t shower first, but even so, it was time.

It’s a bit of a process is the thing. I live in an apartment with a nasty shared laundry room, which means I have to go out of town to a family member’s house to use their full sized washer and dryer to wash my bedding. First I have to strategically undo my bed, then wash everything C A R E F U L L Y and then pack it up in a trashbag and take it home. Then the hard part begins.

I take a shower and meticulously put one sheet on at a time. Well, last night, I’m carefully pulling out the heavy, bulky blanket from the bag and it slips out of my hand, brushing against the contaminated wall and bag.

It’s not fear that courses through me. It’s rage. I throw the blanket on the floor in a huff and look around for a moment. I have to fucking break something. For a moment, I think I’m going to claw my arm off in a rage.

But I don’t. Instead, I haul out my 2.1 cubic feet washer and hook it up to the bathroom sink at 11PM. Hope it doesn’t wake the neighbors. I’m not technically supposed to have this.

So I wash the fucking blanket again, sobbing, and decide how I’m going to dry it. I have a portable dryer, and guys, I can’t recommend these things enough, they do a wonderful job for small space living needs. However, it’s way too small for blankets like this.

The story ends well. My washer spun dry the blanket for 30 minutes and it came out perfectly washed and dried, and I placed it on my newly made bed. I survived. Okay.

But while I was going through that spiral it was just oh shit oh shit oh shit I can’t go back to the house and wash this blanket I’m not going to have a blanket now I can’t wash it in my machine it’s too big I’m not even supposed to have this washer what if they find out what if I get evicted what if I’m homeless again and again and again I’ll never be safe I’ll never have my needs met I’ll never be secure I’m about to be homeless I can’t take care of myself I can’t...

That’s what my bed represents. It represents security. When that security is threatened every ounce of sanity I pretend to hold on to is lost. You can see now why I wash my sheets as infrequently as I can get away with, because laundry day is meltdown territory for me. Maybe I’m good at packing my Virgo emotions into neat tupperware containers (some are expired and all are unlabeled, damn alexithymia) but when I have to open those lids? Oh god.

It made me think about so many things in my life. Last week I spent the night in someone else’s bed. I’m not super fond of doing things like that. I was so fucking drunk I don’t even think I realized I was doing it from an OCD perspective. I didn’t care. That’s the nice (or not so nice) thing about alcohol is how much it makes me not care about germs. But afterwards, I came home and washed my soiled clothes in the sink before taking a thorough shower to decontaminate. I fixate on fabrics and shoes and things like that. Skin and hard surfaces are easy to wash, but fabrics are harder. If you think about it, having a chronic fear about fabric is hard to live with.

But I want to have a relationship someday. I want to be able to live life. I realize after several years of sleeping alone that I don’t know if I’ll be able to share a bed with anyone again. I want to, of course. But...how can I handle it? The germs on someone’s body, in their life, in my bed?

I guess what I feel like I need is stability and security. In the ten years I have lived in California, I have never had those things. Not once. In the thirty or so years I’ve been alive, twenty of them were spent couch surfing and family hopping. I did have a few years here and there of stable living, and some of the apartment hopping was fun when I was younger. But I can’t do it anymore. I need a stable place to live and feel safe. I need to have a full sized washer and dryer in my house that I can use legally, that I don’t have to haul around and hook up each time and hide whenever maintenance comes over (often). I need to be able to get around and get my needs met. I need enough money to live comfortably, to get to go grocery shopping without worrying about paying the bills that month. To not have to choose between medicine and food.

If I had those things, maybe the sheets wouldn’t matter so much. I could just wash them again if I fucked them up. It wouldn’t be this precious, precarious balancing act of life or death if I make a mistake.

Last night I had to see how much of a problem my OCD is in my life. It’s hell. But I don’t know what else to do, because I feel I am on the verge of getting killed or dying every day of my life because of making a mistake and I’m not sure how to stop it.