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cybrsan · 4 months

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Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning.

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday?

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas.

It makes you sick.

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?"

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things.

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny.

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling.

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse.

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified.

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook.

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired.

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away.

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls.

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you.

Jungkook.

Your Astrom.

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal.

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination.

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky.

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications.

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face.

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious.

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer.

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod.

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room.

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi."

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will.

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night.

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep.

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day.

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest.

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself.

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope.

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?"

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him.

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into.

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced.

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since.

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop.

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember.

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead."

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him.

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands.

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!”

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.”

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments.

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?”

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment."

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you.

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings.

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you.

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you."

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N."

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook."

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful."

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?"

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?"

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold.

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it."

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out.

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?"

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?"

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter."

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay."

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do."

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed."

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important."

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately."

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation.

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less."

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive.

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small."

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them."

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related."

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes."

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?"

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes."

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out.

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?"

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?"

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.”

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?”

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back."

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome."

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it."

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring?

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach."

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you."

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in.

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't.

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady.

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second."

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now.

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case."

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around."

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter.

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least.

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word.

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction.

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done."

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting."

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable."

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows.

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail.

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him.

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words.

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended."

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?"

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me."

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope.

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life.

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word.

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen.

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?"

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him.

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—”

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm.

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson."

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say.

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?"

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful."

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side.

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls.

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently.

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.”

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand.

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real."

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?"

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated."

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred."

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.”

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?"

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist."

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu."

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest.

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!"

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back.

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?"

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it."

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.”

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright."

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him.

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?"

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts.

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side."

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?"

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him.

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!"

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply.

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter."

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human."

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words."

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know."

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?"

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer.

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin.

"You aren't in pain?”

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break."

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?"

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe."

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like."

"I want to hear it again."

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest.

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire.

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you."

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words.

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire.

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure.

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—"

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together.

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm.

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please."

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed.

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over.

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—"

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth.

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too."

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you.

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words.

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him.

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep.

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much."

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones.

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down.

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly.

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say.

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go.

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment.

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean.

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits.

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you."

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

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blossiewossie · 2 months

Text

— Lawless Affair

pairing : gojo x reader x geto genre : business men au (lawyers), smut rating : mature word count : 2k+

shoutout to @junqkook for helping me with learning the ways of tumblr and for helping me prep to post; i still have lots to learn but you made it less intimidating teehee ♡

— note : hihi this is my first time using tumblr and also posting on tumblr, pls be kind. also, i put down 'smut' but the spicy stuff could come in a later part (when i eventually write it, lol) enjoy!

“Ah, ____, I see you’re all set up at your desk!,” you heard someone exclaim behind you.

Spinning around in your chair, you look up to see one of your new colleagues smiling cheerfully at you while holding a woven basket full of supplies. Her silky black hair was tied up in a half-up do with a cute pink bow on it, completely encapsulating her bubbly personality.

“I’m sorry to bug you, but I brought you these!,” she exclaimed brightly, plopping the basket down. She reached in and started pulling out different items for you to use to decorate your cubicle, including a bunch more bows of various sizes.

“Thank you, uh…,” you trailed off sheepishly, glancing at the spot where you were told to wear your name tag on her shirt before realizing she didn’t have hers on.

“Oh, where are my manners?!,” she cried out loud. “I’m Utahime Iori, but you can just call me Iori! I figured since it’s your first day here with us, I’d give you a hand with decorating your spot!”

“Cut it out, would you? You’ll scare her away!,” demanded another colleague. Turning your head towards the new voice, you spot a woman with silver hair sashaying towards you, her heels clicking against the floor. She came to a stop next to Iori and nudged her before turning to you with an apologetic smile, while Iori coughed awkwardly.

“Sorry about her, she tends to overwhelm our new hires with her presence. I promise she means well,” says the new woman. “I’m Mei Mei,” she says.

“Hi, I’m ____,” you say back, laughing as Iori sticks her tongue out at the unimpressed colleague.

You tell them you appreciate how welcoming they are, as you were feeling quite nervous about today. After all, not everyone gets a chance to work at a prestigious law firm under one of the greatest lawyers of the country.

The two women quickly assure you that you’re in good hands and the topic is quickly changed as you all started getting to know each other. Many moments, and laughs, later, you are all exchanging numbers so that you could contact each other outside of work. As the two women say their goodbyes and you turn to face your desk, Mei Mei stops in her tracks and returns to your desk once more.

“Just a final thought. I want to give you a warning,” her voice drops to a whisper, while she glances around carefully.

Intrigued, you lean in, eager to hear what she has to say.

“Whatever you do, do not let him in your pants.”

Sputtering wildly, you look back at Mei Mei with a shocked expression while she has a curious look on her face.

“I’m not letting anyone in my pants, wha-,” you start to stutter out when Mei Mei’s palm splats across your lips, hushing you immediately.

Mei Mei glances around once more before removing her hand.

“The big boss has a friend that likes to linger in here when he has nothing else to do at his own firm,” she says softly. “We cannot speak ill about him freely, but as your friend now, I must warn you. Do not fall for his games. He has slept with every new hire we have had. You don’t want to be tangled up in his mess.”

Straightening up, she looks around once more before nodding at you. Turning on her heel and flipping her silvery locks, she walks away while yelling out a loud ‘Nice talking to you, ____!’ before entering the hallway and disappearing.

Shaking away your thoughts, you straighten back towards your desk and smile amusedly at the basket left behind by your new friends. Digging through, you find a couple of bows of your favorite color and start piling them up on the side, reminding yourself to put them up before you leave for the day.

As the day drags on, you commit to your work meticulously, organizing and storing files away in their proper locations. You hear your coworkers occasionally walking around, but all is silent for the most part.

The next thing you know, BANG!

The door leading into the office area slams open and you see someone’s leg outstretched, as if they had kicked the door.

Startled, you scoot back and stand to lean over your cubicle to see what the commotion’s about as some of your coworkers do the same around you. Some of them have a wide grin on their faces while others roll their eyes and continue on their work as if nothing has happened. You notice most of the women around you are the ones keeping an eye on the door. Must be the hot-shot, you think to yourself.

The outstretched leg at the door set itself down and the man behind it walked in, exuding all the confidence in the world with his stride. You trail your eyes from his covered legs up, appreciating how well his slacks accentuated his long limbs. They continue to make their way up his torso to his chest, where he’s sporting a snug, white button-up with the top buttons lose. His matching suit jacket wrapped seductively around his arms, showing off their physique as he swung them nonchalantly by his side. Finally you raise your eyes up to his face and your breath hitches in your throat.

His eyes — they’re like the color of ice, but there’s more to it. They’re almost paradoxical, the way they sparkle with light but also glint with a hint of darkness. Paired with such breathtaking eyes was his unique hair color, as white as snow. The man was a walking epitome of winter, beautiful yet dangerous. And his smirk, that tied it all together.

Before you was an angel with devilish intentions.

You swore you could see the women in the room swoon instantaneously as the mysterious man waltzed his way around, stopping to chat with different people. Clearing your throat, you duck back down into your seat and try your best to continue where you left off in your work, suddenly feeling a rush of heat between your legs.

Jeez louise, you think to yourself.

Never in your life has a man made your body react like that from just looking at him. Sure, you’ve read some spicy stories here and there that made you want to touch yourself, but just his mere presence is making you feel more than all those stories combined.

You bite your lip as you continue typing, trying to ignore the conversations around you. Soon after you started to finally concentrate and your shoulders relax, a deep hush fell across the room as another set of footsteps make their way into the room, this time from your right side, where the boss’ office was.

“Ah, Satoru, I thought I’d find you here,” said a velvety voice.

Looking up, you realize your boss has stopped right in front of your cubicle as he spoke to the mysterious man. You recognize his voice from when he joined the human resource manager’s call to congratulate you on getting the job, but now you finally get to put a face to the voice — and what a face it is.

His eyes were closed as he smiled towards the mysterious man, making the latter return it with his own smile. His arms were crossed lazily, making his built arms and his toned chest puff out of his navy blue suit. His hair was tied up messily into a bun, with strands coming down the left side of his face, framing it nicely. You could see his ears, pierced and adorned with dark circular earrings. He stood tall, his frame towering over everyone but his friend, who had started to stroll leisurely towards him.

Gods, does being attractive come with being a lawyer?

“My, my, is that any way to welcome your friend, Seguru?”, said the man, Satoru.

You file that name into your memory, making sure to keep it there for later.

You peek through your lashes as the handsome man finally stops in front of your cubicle as well. Squeezing your thighs tightly, you listen as the two lawyers chat absentmindedly and try your best to type quietly. You do your best to tune out their conversation out of respect, but you can’t help stealing glances at them

As you went to look up at them once more, you realize the man Satoru was now looking at you curiously while your boss continued talking. Your breath hitches again as you stare into his twinkling eyes. Time seems to slow as all you can see is him.

You don’t realize your boss stopped talking until he clears his throat to get his friend’s attention, swiftly ending the intense eye contact between you both. Blushing bashfully, you glance back at your boss to see he was already staring at you with an eyebrow raised. He smiles and turns, facing you now.

“Ah, ____. I forgot to come introduce myself to you. I am Seguru Geto, we talked briefly on the call with Mr. Yu, the human resource manager.”, he said proudly, reaching his hand out to you.

You shake his hand as you spoke, noticing how small yours was in his.

“Hello, Mr. Geto. I’m honored to meet you!”, you say brightly, returning his smile with one of yours.

Your boss' smile widens as he turns his body slightly towards the mysterious man and stretches his hand out to him with his palm up.

“This is my friend and the owner of our sister firm, Satoru Gojo. You’ll see him here as he tends to visit us quite often while he lets his fellow lawyers pick up his slack.”

Your hand is suddenly lifted, taken by the handsome man himself, as he places a gentle kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hello there, ____.”, he says slowly, as if tasting your name on his lips, his smile now a smirk once more.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gojo,” you stutter out, yanking your hand back to your chest. You can feel your cheeks heating up again as you shyly look up at him. He sends you a wink as Mr. Geto wraps an arm around his shoulders and starts walking back towards his office, hollering for everyone to get back to work and apologizing for the interruption.

Your eyes follow their leaving forms, trying to decipher if this is real life. Before the door to the boss’ office closes, you see them both stopping to chatter, glance your way with smiles, and exit the room.

You look back to your computer once more, feeling the same heat rush between your legs from before. Now it wasn’t just because of Mr. Gojo, but also because your boss is an attractive specimen as well. A naughty thought of being with both of them crept into your mind, making you bite your lip intensely. The air around you felt warmer than before.

Leaving your desk, you quietly tell the clerk to the side of you that you’ll be going to the bathroom, getting a thumbs up in return. You quickly make your way down the hall to where the bathrooms are located. Rushing towards the sink, you turn the faucet to the cold water side and wet your hands, bringing them up to your face and neck as you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice your bottom lip was a bit red, bringing back your earlier thoughts. The sudden thought of being with both of your senior lawyers made your pussy tingle.

Groaning, you throw your hands back under the cold water to try and distract yourself from your naughty thoughts. You think back to your friend’s warning from earlier. Curiously, you wonder why she didn’t give you a heads up on how much of a hunk your boss was as well. Maybe he’s married, you thought as you dried your hands. Tossing away the napkins, you straighten up your blouse and skirt before nodding at the mirror in satisfaction.

Spinning on your heel, you make your way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Turning back towards the office area, you walk forward — only to slam into a wall.

Faltering back a couple steps, you feel a pair of hands reach out to steady you.

Quickly apologizing, you look up to see none other than Mr. Gojo looking down at you with a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ____?”, he says, looking you over, probably scanning for any injuries.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-,”

“This is why I told you not to walk backwards,” said Mr. Geto abruptly, rushing forward from behind Mr. Gojo, stopping behind you to look at you as well. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You realize now that both men are standing on either side of you, each one scanning your frame from the front and back. You look back up towards Gojo, his eyes now settled back on yours, an eyebrow cocked with a sideways grin. You glance back behind you to see Geto’s eyes surveying your body, lingering on your behind for a moment, before bringing them back up to meet yours, a mischievous smile gracing his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and cough, before nodding to both of them that you’re okay.

The two men make eye contact before looking back at you and nod as well, both of their eyes twinkling as if there was an inside joke that you missed out on. Shuffling your weight from one heel to the other, you apologize again for not looking at where you were going and excuse yourself so that you can go back to work.

Walking away quickly, you couldn’t help but hear them chuckle to themselves as they talked in hushed tones. Before you reach the end of the hallway and enter the office area, you turn your head back to look at them — only to see them already looking at you with matching smirks on their faces.

Sitting down at your desk, you only had one thought on your mind as you tried to continue your work once more:

What a first day at work this has been.

#jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo smut #geto smut

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limboraptor · 4 months

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Here's my Pearlcaviar fankid, Moonstone Caviar!!

From the result of a bit of love and gem mermaid magic (?) came little Moonstone Caviar, named after her iridescent Caviar hair, and a nod to how White Pearl was compared to the Moon's radiance! She takes mostly after her father and aspires to follow in his footsteps and keep the lower city safe from pirates!

More info of the AU below!!

SO YEAH I wanted to make a fankid but with a TWIST!!! NEITHER of them know how it happened, but one morning Caviar woke up with one of his lil fish egg hairs had grown into an ACTUAL egg. They both were absolutely flabbergasted to say the least, but it soon turned into pure joy!! (at least for Caviar, BP was still processing it all) His crew were as shocked to receive the news as they were, but they were very quick to share the same excitement. They were going to have a new little sibling!! (They argue over who gets to hold the egg ALL THE TIME)

This man is the world's best father bro. He's been DYING to be an ACTUAL father (ofc he considers his crew his kids). He LOOVESSS carrying her in his little "papa pouch". oh, he takes the egg EVERYWHERE he goes- Elder meetings included LMAO ANYWAY THATS ALL I HAVE SO FAR!! ILL ADD MORE EVENTUALLY TEEHEE

#captain caviar cookie #captain caviar #black pearl cookie #black pearl x captain caviar #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #crk oc

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reirrei · 5 months

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you smell good..

SHU YAMINO X FEM! READER (HIGHSCHOOL AU)

info: pure fluff <3 ~ during a tiring pe class, a certain purple male came up to you..

warnings: none!

A/N: okay so LITEERALLY i had the BEST fucking dream ever tge day before yesterday. I was so sad when the dream didnt have a part 2 yesterday 😔 anywho i had a dream with my crush and it was the most romantic shit every i shit you not.

To ALWASY. be reminded of this i wrote a fic >< enjoy pooksters

𝐒𝐇𝐔 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 ✦ !

You had a crush on Shu. If that wasn't obvious enough by the way you act. Anyhow, you two were in the same PE class, usually he's amazing at PE, with those hands you know he's athletic. But today in particular, Shu felt tired. He didn't feel much like participating, which led him into a dilemma since his teammates were yelling at him to run faster and what not. Leading Shu into a conflicting state, he barely talked during the games and he felt.. down.

You wanted to check up on him on multiple occasions, but were scared. Scared to disturb him, what if he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now? What if he doesn't even wanna talk to you?

To respect his personal boundaries, you decided to leave him me until he feels better. Shu was never really an outgoing person all the time, but he always had a calm smile on his face that made you feel better when you look at him. His smile, his voice, his laugh, everything. It hurts to see him so down but there really isn't much of a choice anyways.

As the round came to an end, and the teacher gave everyone a break. You took several glances at Shu, and every time, he looked awfully dark. He was avoiding everyone's gaze and went outside to refill is water. As you took a seat within your group for the round, you saw that your whole group went outside for whatever reason.

Seeing that there was no one in particular around to talk to, you just sat down on the chairs (idk why there were chairs in pe class, dreams are weird) with your head hung low, you were left with your own thoughts and daydreams.

Until someone came up behind you.

Suddenly, you felt a breath near your neck, looking behind you in an instant, your eyes widened when Shu buried his face onto your neck, hugging you waist from the back as you stared at him in confusion.

"S-Shu?? What's wro-"

" 'm tired.." he whispered onto your neck, you could feel his hot breath against the skin of your neck as your face flushed red.

Speechless, you both stood their in silence as Shu keeps his face buried onto your neck, both your faces nearly touching.

"(name)..?" he whispered again, feeling his breath tingle on your skin was a.. new sensation, to say the least. This was unexpected, coming from the one and only, SHU YAMINO?? But you can't say it's an unpleasant experience either. In fact, you actually kind of enjoyed it.

"yes?"

"I feel like a burden on my group.." he said, his voice low and tired as his face is buried onto your neck deeper. Your flushed face glowing red.

"you're no-"

"do you wanna switch class with me?" He spoke in a hushed tone, looking up staring directly into your eyes as you both made eye contact. His eyes were gorgeous.

"are you okay shu?"

"has anyone ever told you that you looked pretty today?"

"...uh.. no?"

"better luck next time" Shu giggled as his face is still nuzzled onto your neck, you stared at him with a big blush on your face.

"oh fuck you.."

"you smell good.. it's different from the smell yesterday."

"what" you stared at him blankly, he chuckled in a low tone.

"Okay okay I'll make it up to you.. is it fine if I.." He spoke softly staring at your lips, your eyes widened and you gave him a quick and swift nod.

"yes."

...

BEEP BEEP BEEP !!

"it's morning..?"

teehee ><

#nijisanji #nijisanji en #shu #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #shu x reader #luxiem x reader

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goldfishontheceiling · 17 days

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guys wake up new nowen AU just dropped /hj

doordash AU

picture this:

march 25th. Owen and his girlfriend Izzy decide to order some good old doordash because why not, and the dasher rings the doorbell, drops off the food, and is about to get into the car when-

GASP

IS THAT NOAH?! OWEN'S CHILDHOOD FRIEND WHO MOVED AWAY!? AT HIS DOORSTEP?!

(ramshackle pilot refrence teehee, GO WATCH IT ITS ON YOUTUBE I LOVE IT)

anyway, Eva grabs the food, Owen stops the dasher/Noah from leaving and asks if it's really him, Noah says some sarcastic remark about how "no, i'm just a stranger with the exact same name, exact same hair, and exact same childhood best friend from 10 years ago," they reunite. but now Noah has to go do another order, so they exchange numbers and Izzy makes a group chat titled "team e-scope."

(nobody questions the group chat name because it's Izzy, she winks at the 4th wall /j)

and all the sudden, Owen starts ordering doordash more, and keeps asking for a certain employee. at this point Owen knows Noah's schedule better then Noah does because he wants to see his little buddy!

but what's this? this is a nowen AU? so why are Owen and Izzy still together?

WELL NOT ANYMORE *hits ozzy with the break up beam*

and during that period of time, between Izzy breaking up with him and his desire to be closer with his childhood best friend, Owen develops a litttttle crush. just a little.

and at the same time, Noah realizes just how much he loves Owen. his smile, his warmth, both physical and personality, the way his touch was slowly helping Noah out of the cold touch starved house he locked himself in. and the more he thinks about it, the emptier his apartment feels.

and Noah develops a littttttle crush. just a little.

they're both scared to love again. Owen doesn't want to build walls, but the other part of him wants that extra protection, even if the construction hurts more then not having them does. Noah doesn't want Owen to put walls up, because he knows from experience (how's Emma doing now?) it's not worth it. he doesn't want to lose him the same way he almost lost himself (does Owen wonder if Izzy's moved on by now the same way Noah wondered?)

but it's okay, because they're working on taking walls down together, one brick at a time.

but right now it's march 25th, so Owen's just going to plan another doordash order. he just reunited with his Noah! surely he works tomorrow too, right?

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kasaslovr · 1 year

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which no girl has even looked his way so what makes him think you will. he's just not getting the hint that you want him to have little taste of your love

❈ warning: f!reader, college au, mutual & m!masterbation, fingering, praise, pet names, hair pulling?, teasing, he's like kinda subby at first then dom teehee, porn with plot. wc: 3.5k

❈ notes: i changed the concept oops, idk maybe ill write a fratboy!gojo fic later, idk my friend was talking about how they dislike a playboy gojo so shoulder shrug. likes and reblogs r much appreciated mwahh anyway please enjoy my official first piece !

its not like he was hated, not at all. its just he never stood out and was never labeled anything more than basic. he just wanted to get through his college life peacefully. he didn't need those parties that lasted till 2am or those saturday night hookups which would leave him heart broken. sure he's had friends talk to him here and there, but he would never get super personal with anyone, ever.

it was a study hall in a library where there should’ve been just silent but instead, there would be students gossiping or making out in such a public place. how vulgar. he wasn't a nerd either, just an average guy honestly. he was finishing up notes that he could use for his next unit test, until the aroma of warm vanilla and marshmallows filled his nose, he usually wouldn't look, but he couldn't help it since it was right next to him. you were right next to him.

he slowly turned towards you and was met with such a winning smile with your head tilted and hand under your chin. your eyes were staring right at him like you were trying to see through his own eyes. you had the cutest cheeks he's ever planted his eyes on, they were just a little rosy and rose just a bit when you smiled at him. and your lips, they were beautifully plump with a little shine from your gloss and it was moving–shit you were talking and soon he was convinced. he's never had a taste of love like this before or ever.

“hello? i asked if we had biology together?” there was a concern look on your face, he snapped out of his thoughts and looked anywhere else besides your face. “uh i’m not to sure..” he responds with his hand reaching to the back of his neck, god you must think he's such a big loser cause of course he wouldn't know, all he does is keep his eyes down at his paper or at the floor.

a sign of nervousness. how cute you thought. you knew satoru was in your class, of course you did, ever since you transferred all you wanted was a new start and to live out your life so you did that, went to any party possible and made as many friends as you could while sticking with old ones. but there's one thing you wouldn't do and that was to let just any guy to have a taste of your love, you were gonna be in the one to control who you want to love and such and you chose him. gojo satoru.

“gojo right? i’ve definitely seen you around, you feed those cute cats behind the building!” you exclaimed, way louder than he would've liked and loud enough to make his ears red. “uhm yeah..look are you following me around for fun or something because there are more entertaining things to do.” he suddenly felt discouraged like he wants to cry or never find someone attractive again.

“no no no, of course not! that was just by coincidence and since then i kinda told myself ‘i have to get to know such a cute and sweet guy.’” you said smiling ever so sweetly. what did you just say? cute? sweet? he's never seen himself in such way nor has anybody else, maybe when he helps the old ladies open the door or when his friends sees adorable baby photos of him, but he's never felt these kinds of butterflies about it before.

“you-you think im cute?” he turned towards you again to see if there was any sign of jokingly behavior, but no, you were being genuine. “yeah i do. i’m y/n, i think i need to be caught up on stuff in biology and you seem pretty smart so maybe if you wanna stop by my dorm sometime and help out i would totally appreciate it, im in room 318 in wing c.” you informed, you were starting to feel a little nervous now cause what if he thought you were just messing with him or gave him stalker vibes, you didn't want that at all.

yes. a million times yes. he thought, he got so excited that he all of sudden stood up, giving you quite a shock, but made you giggle a little and he found his favorite sound ever. “yes i will..i mean i will take you up on that offer. is there a certain time or day you'd like me to go over?” he asked, he didn't think you guys were gonna be at that point where he could just go into your room anytime soon. “hmm doesn't matter to me, i’m never really busy.” you shrugged and now he's thinking of showing up tomorrow morning, but soon he’s interrupted by an alarm on your phone.

“shit! i’ve got lessons, here,” you grabbed a pen off of his notebook and wrote your number in the corner with a little heart. “now you should contact me whenever. i’ll see you around.” you smiled and wave then left the library while adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. gojo put your number in his phone as soon as he could, in case he forgot of course, but how could he? you've made his day maybe his whole week–hell his entire month. he gathered up his stuff and walked to his dorm quickly.

he searched for his keys in this bag which were usually hung on his tiny key chain that geto gave him, he likes to deny him and gets undying friendship, in reality he was his best friend and almost brother, but gojo denies it all. he opens the door and expects to see geto laying on the couch with a bag of chips on the couch and a Red Bull on the little coffee table, but no there was a small post, which geto stole from satorus room of course, it on the fridge saying ‘heyy im out to go bang a super hot chick from wing b, she's so hot and let me tell you when her boobs were bigger than my hands, i had to get in on that lmaoooo see ya tmrw - super hot playboy sugaru’ gojo had to blink of couple times until he reacted to it, he gagged with disgust and rolled his eyes, ripped off the note and threw it in the trash.

geto was almost the opposite of gojo, get had plenty of people follow him, guys he played sports with and some who just thought he was cool and wanted to tag along, there were girls too and they had the smallest articles of clothing and would throw themselves onto geto, it was almost like geto was some kind of cult leader. gojo chuckled at the thought, no way. what makes geto different is that he was kind and acknowledged everyone around him.

gojo opened the door, turned on the lights and set his glasses on the table, grabbed some clothes that looked comfy and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower early since he ended sweating lots more than he usually would. after a half hot half cold shower since college bathing is shit he decided he would order some KFC knowing geto wouldn't be here to steal everything in the bag. gojo knew it was gonna take a while so he went into his room, closed door and lights off. some him time after a long day of classes.

soon satoru got curious, he was thinking back on gets note, did you know him?hes quite popular so maybe, but you were new so he was conflicted. gojo opened his instagram that he barely uses and only got it cause geto forced him to, but he logged onto his account with only 14 followers and got to searching, he went to gets that he has around 10 times more followers than gojo, but he doesn't mind since he doesn't even post anything. he went to search for your name in getos follower list and there you were, gojo felt his heart leap out of his chest of what? he doesn't know just yet. he's excited he found your account even if its a bit stalkerish, but you followed geto so were you using him to get with his roommate. he hopes not, he prays not.

with trembling fingers he pressed your account, he examined your account. your profile picture was a cute mirror picture with a white sweater on and studying something and you used a table mirror to take the picture, it was so cute, he moved onto to your recent post and he felt his heart drop even farther down and his eyes slightly widen. its you, of course, in a tiny blue swimsuit a two piece to be specific.

there's three different photos, one of them is you closing your eyes with your knees bent onto the sand and hands cupping your own face and squishing your breast together, it must be unintentional, it has to be because gojo wouldn't know what to do with himself if it was on purpose almost like you knew he was gonna see this and get the hardest boner he's ever received in his life, he swiped to the left, not to exit but to look at the next picture. you're by the shore now and it looks like you're walking with a hand out and another holding your hat to cover your face and finally the last one. youre in the water just above thigh length and you're facing the sunset and your ass is on full display.

gojo couldn't do it anymore, either he was to go throw his phone away and take another cold shower or die because you were just so breathtaking, he scrolled to the first one and he didn't mean to look at your breast, but he didn't and then getos note came into mind again, damn geto, could his hands fit over your boobs? he had to do something about his problem. with his phone in one hand and his other snaking down to pull down his sweatpants, his dick was already leaked with precut ever since he found your account.

he used his thumb to spread the precut around tip to down to the base then back up. his mind was racing and imagining how would you play with his cock. would you make him beg for it? edge him over and over again until there's tears pooling in his eyes? or maybe you would make his sit on his knees like how are in that first pic and make him eat you out without any hands as you play with his cock and just use him as you please. all these fantasies has made his hand speed up and his groans louder now becoming words as he gets lost into wanting you so badly. “f-fuck..wanna cum inside you, baby.” he threw his head back and soon dropped his phone not even caring if it broke. his other hand ran through his hair then moved it down to his chest where he played with his nipples over his shirt, he's never masterbaited like this before, never with this much emotion.

he was so close, pants and boxers by his ankles and the ends of his shirt caught in between his teeth. he wasn't taking it slow anymore, he just wanted to cum and the shlick slapping noises have just gotten wetter and almost heavier. he was pinching and pulling on his nipples now, they're both red and swollen, but it only adds to his pleasure. his face was red with blush and sweat built up on his forehead while moaning and whimpering your name over and over again like a prayer. would you moan his name like this? imagine you getting lost into so much pleasure where your toes are curled and eyes are crossed and screaming his name with moans followed right after, oh to make you feel that good. it got him painting his hand white and your name on his tongue. he felt his breath staggering back to normal as he cleaned up and when he completely snapped back into reality he wondered how was he supposed to face you.

its been 2 weeks, 5 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes since gojo spoke to you. of course you've tried to say something to him, but he gets all flustered and leave or ignore you if he must. its really throwing you off so you text him. “hey gojo! could u come over and help me over this unit, but if ur busy that's ok, i don't wanna bother u. just lmk! <3” and sent, you hope your words can convince him to stop whatever phase he is in to talk to you.

gojo is sitting on his bed with his glasses off and hands on his face. what was he supposed to do? you sounded so distressed and he wants to help you, he truly does, but how can he face you when he's done something so lewd. ok fuck it, he has a plan he’ll result to pointing and yes and nos that's easy enough. he grabbed his textbooks and shoved them in his bag and rushed out the door and storming over to your room.

around 20 minutes later he's appeared in front of your door with three quick and panicked knocks. when you open the door you can see his face flushed with red from speed walking his way here and his breath is heavy. you say something first “i didn't know you were coming, i would've changed.” you joked, maybe lighting the mood would make him feel better, but all he did was scan you from your brown slippers to your biker shorts and at your black bra and he gulped “would you like to come in?” you asked him and he nodded.

this was getting quite annoying. you didn't really need to study since you were pretty smart anyway, but your love for gojo hasn't left at all, you still find him the sweetest guy ever and really adorable and you thought inviting him over would settle things, but the tension only grew. until you stood up and asserted your dominance.

“okay satoru, i don't know what's been going on with you or why you won't talk to me at all, but if i did something im sorry and if i didn't then what the fuck! i feel like im putting all this effort to be with you and you all of sudden don't give a shit about me!” you shouted almost on the verge of tears. it wasn't your first round of rejection, but to be ignored and humiliated like this was a first and you hated it and felt strong urges to just punch his face if he continued to portray this silent treatment.

“i..i uh” he stutters, god you can feel tears dripping down your face. “do you hate me or something?!” you asked, not even caring if the neighbors next door are listening in. “no! i don't, its just..i really like you and i don't want be a loser in front of you and i was stalked your instagram and ended up jerking off to one of your photos and im sorry!” he confessed with a panicked expression. why did he admit that? his confession was also lame as fuck? was he in middle school? gojo felt so light headed suddenly and closed his eyes shut and braced himself for a punch anywhere on his body and he held his face.

he's never felt such way for someone before and this time it was his fault that they were gonna walk away. he hates himself so much right now and wishes he wasn't some weird loser kid and wishes he was someone more popular, more social, more like geto.

when he peered through his fingers he saw your face and you were..laughing? why? he just told you the most shameful things he's done in his life and you laugh. “sorry sorry, you know because its you i don't mind.” you blush a little while wiping your tears. “and i like you too if you couldn't tell..” you mumbled, finally gaining eye contact with him. he's looking down and playing with his fingers, he's confessed to girls before, but for someone else to want him first. it makes his self confidence sky rocket honestly.

“im still sorry for what i did, but can i ask you for something?” he asked, you nodded slowly, truly having no idea on what it is, “can i kiss you?” he asked shyly and you didn't even responded, you couldn't tell what was moving faster, your mind racing a million times per hour or feet rushing to put your lips on his. it was nowhere close to shy or calm. it was kiss full of madness, want, lust, and love. with noses colliding teeth clashing with one another, and tongues only making the kiss less collective and messy.

you grabbed his hand and led him into your bedroom without breaking off the kiss, you locked the doors and turned off the lights only leaving your little yellow lamp on your table as a light source. “off. i wanna see you.” he said his voice hoarse from being breathless while trying to rush you, you worked as quick as you could only for satoru to help you as you shoved your pants off he got your top and latched his mouth onto one of perky nips and playing with the other, he closed his eyes and moaned loudly without any shame which caused vibrations through your body adding to the pleasure. “satoru, baby lemme make you feel good too, please.” you moaned softly while trying to get his pants off, anything to return this favor of lust, he pulled off for a split second just to take his shirt off and as soon as that was off he continued ti mark your body with big red splotches that will soon turn people in due time and all over your neck and finally his pants came out and before you could make a move on him, he grabbed your hands

“show me. right now how you play with yourself. put a show on come on.” he encouraged, letting your hands go then peeling off his boxers, slowly moving his wrists up and down his leaking dick. while watching him it felt like your mind was on autopilot, you slipped off your panties and gathered some wetness that has been developed from the kissing and such. you didn't care that you making a mess everywhere, spreading your juices all over your already drenched until you stick a finger in, moaning so light almost with a relief cause the sensation was just so good. then another one, but it wasn't enough your fingers couldn't reach into the deep spots your toys usually could, but why do you need it when you have one right in front of you. with his mouth agape and his abdomen flexing and a flush covering his entire body, to the tip of his cock to the blades of his shoulder. “t-toru s’not enough. want your dick now.” you whined, wording slurring as your brain turned into mush.

his eyes traveled down to your messy cunt and there was a faint smirk on his face. “oh needy little thing, you want me to help you out, sweetheart. you gotta open those cute legs of yours further then.” he said letting go of his crimsoned tip cock and taking the fingers that were in your pussy to spread them farther and when he saw the sight, he felt the wind knocked out of his chest. all he could do was stare. “stop looking, ‘s embarrassing” you mumbled looking away, honestly the fire in the bottom of your stomach only grew as he continued to play with your pretty little pussy.

he moved your fingers away as he plunged his own right in without an ounce of hesitation. he wasn't being gentle at in nor nice. he wasn't your toy, you were his and he loved it like that. “ill look if i wanna, ‘s mine now isn't it? tell me, pretty girl, who's your cute lil pussy gushing all over for?” he was merciless and he didn't hold back, not at all. “you! satoru! its yours, ‘m all yours, please wanna cum!” you were so close, moans only got louder and higher in octaves at that point, “’s lucky you're so cute, cum for me, baby.” he says leaning in to kiss you and your swollen lips from deep heavy kisses and from biting on it to keep quiet, though it didn't work in the slightest. he moved his head down back to your neck, he loves this taste of you and he’ll never ever get enough.

with your hands in his hair and a slight tug, you came and it completely drenched the sheets and almost the entirely of his hand, as your brain became cleared of fog and passion you rested your weight on satoru only for him to push you down and get on top of you and the feel of his tip kissing your clit, teasing your already worn out cunt.

“you thought we we’re done? nah baby ive gotta taste more of your love.”

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lvrcpid · 1 year

Note

Need need need more of the modern au

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE. i made this in 10 minutes just for you 🤭

rockets and rollercoasters - modern!au

includes : gn!reader, dad tsu’tey agenda AGAIN!, implied neteyam & ao’nung x reader , lo’ak being hilarious as always , use of (y/n)

at an amusement park with modern!avatar

lo’ak:

— MANNNNN LISTEN

— he wants to ride all the rollarcoasters

— but gets off crying after the first one

— eats hella junk food

— i’m talking cotton candy STAINING HIS FINGERS

— loves loves LOVES THE WATER RIDES

— probably gets pissed off when it’s time to go home

— drags tsireya and you to that big ride where it drops you from like 50 ft in the air

— you’re enjoying it while tsireya and lo’ak are screaming for their parents 50 FT IN THE AIR.

neteyam:

— this sweetheart wins you the biggest bear at one of the stands

— he helps you name it ofc

— you guys name it rob.

— fuckin rob.

— ANYWAYS.

— attempts but fails to get his dad on rides

— he’s definitely a teacups kind of boy

— constantly making sure everyone is good

— poses for the pictures during the rollercoaster drops

— probably does the same ride over and over

— and he drags you along cause why not you know

— probably stops if you complain about feeling sick

— you weren’t you just didn’t wanna ride anymore TEEHEE 🤭

kiri:

— probably didn’t wanna go , neytiri had to drag her to the car

— definitely wearing a sun visor like someone’s nana

— walks around the whole park listening to music

— my girl has a fanny pack and DOESNT CARE

— most likely got on a few rides with lo’ak to shut him up

— i see kiri as a churro girl so definitely spending all her money on churros and overpriced water bottles

— probably got a caricature just for funsies but really liked it in the end

— DIPPIN DOTS.

— okay i’m stopping before shes longer than anyone here

tuk:

— SHES TOO SMALL FOR ANY OF THR RIDES

— dragging jake to the kids part of the park

— “DADDY WATCH ME”

— “i’m watching baby” - a tired father who just wants a break and some water

— probably wore a swim suit under her outfit just in case the park had a water portion, which it did

— her seat was soaking wet when they got back in the car

— made neytiri buy her HELLA PLUSHIES CAUSE “i need them so my squishmallows don’t get lonely”

— our social butterfly made some new friends

— jake sighing cause he has to make new dad friends when he was content with tonowari and tsu’tey

ao’nung:

— WHY IS HE PLAYING BASKETBALL TO WIN YOU A BEAR

— ORIGINALITY IS FREE!!

— loves rollercosters

— and i mean LOVESSSS

— he just goes on the ones that are super high and go super fast

— you know how your stomach shifts when the drop happens

— yeah he lives for that feeling

— probably gets lost in the park and calls you all sassy and huffy

— “come get me damnit.”

— you hang up cause he DIDNT SAY PLEASE.

tsireya :

— probably just in the arcade getting scammed from a crane machine

— crying to her parents abt how she didn’t even get the plush she wanted

— doesn’t even walk near the rollercoasters

— PHOTOBOOTH QUEEN!

— why is she walking around with a turkey leg???

— someone please take that from her??????

— official mom of the group

— she has pain killers , sunscreen , aloe vera???????

— girl came locked and LOADED

— hung around with you until y’all went home cause that sun ZAPPED HER

y/n

— didn’t even wanna come

— your dad threatened to take away your phone

— you jumped your ass in that car so FAST

— you probably got lost too eventually and found ao’nung on your way

— probably eating 4 ice cream cones in 30 minutes cause it was SOOOOO HOTTTTT

— dancing to the music they’re playing cause why are they bumping tyler the creator at an amusement park??

— passing out on a rollercoaster

— okay maybe all of them

— you passed out on all the rollercoasters.

— PROBABLY GETTING WHIPLASH NGL.

a.n// my first ask??? i love this for me??? just a quick reminder my requests are OPEN and i’m glad to see you guys like reading my modern au just as much as i love writing them . my next one has a LITTLE something to do with valentine’s day TEEHEE 🤭

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader #aonung x reader #modern!avatar

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v3nomly · 8 months

Note

hiii saw your post abt modern au astarion and how you have requests open🤭 first of all i'm begging you please give us every single astarion thought you have........ kinda obsessed with modern au astarion🤭 could you please give us something about that where astarion still works in the justice system?? i'll never understand why people say he would have a different job, boy is literally born to be a lawyer/judge!! also have a lovely day😽😽😽 if you plan on keeping tabs on your anons may i be a 🍓 anon teehee

Ooo, I love the idea of modern lawyer Astarion. Instantly my brain went feral and threw my mind into the hyperbolic gutter. NSFW additions and a surprise appearance from ascended-adjacent Astarion under the cut. As always let me know if you want me to continue! Either as more thirsty ramble of an actual fic! Also I created a tag for you 🍓 anon! ♡

Astarion is just so charming and beguiling. He has everyone wrapped around his finger in that courtroom. Hanging off every saccharine word he says.

God, he’s just about lying through his teeth, but no one seems to care. He's spinning a careful web of truths and mistruths so intricate and show-stopping that he knows he has the jury right where he wants them.

You’re a bottom-of-the-food chain lawyer. New enough to the scene that you get stuck with all the shitty cases like this one. But veteran enough in the art of assholes to know the type of man Astarion is the moment you see him. The worst type of lawyer, one more befitting the name of a conman. Happy to line his pockets with the misfortune of others.

You couldn’t lie he was captivating. Every utterance of a word was a performance. Every gesture was a dance, and he played the part so well. It is what he does best.

It is when you utter one simple word that he finds his show comes to a halt.

“Objection,” you state voice almost meek, all eyes turn to you, and suddenly the spotlight has shifted.

Of course, the judge dismissed your claims, but it was enough to throw Astarion off his game. Sure, this wasn’t the first time someone had called 'objection', nor would it be the last. Yet, even with your voice as meek as it was your eyes held something he hadn’t witnessed in years. Clarity.

You saw through him, and the revelation almost made him want to laugh. You were refreshing, like an ice-filled cup of water on a sweltering summer day. For the rest of the trial, he gave you a chance to match his dance and god where you beautiful.

Maybe you stumbled or stepped on his toes, but you were merely unpracticed and the thought of you honed, your skills sharpened like a knife, brought a fiery excitement he hadn’t realized he was missing.

I could see him being subtly flirty every moment you were alone during the trail. Something that flustered the hell out of you, but you never let it affect your performance, which only furthered his interest.

When all is said and over, with the defense winning, a very proud and victorious Astarion comes over to shake your hand. Taking the opportunity to pull you just a step closer and invite you for drinks.

You knew better. Certainly knew that a guy like him was trouble, but you didn’t say no. While you wouldn’t admit it, you were somewhat eager to see what else Astarion was capable of. So much so that you had practically brought up the idea of him fucking you in the alley.

Your hands braced you against the wall, allowing you enough resistance to push back into each thrust, allowing Astarion to hit you deeper. His hands held firmly onto your hips, no doubt leaving the imprints of his long fingers on your skin.

"Fuck," you utter your legs wobbling, slowly turning to putty as he brings you closer to the edge. Astarion pauses his hold shifting to better support you. You hear him pant behind you, and you can only assume he's trying desperately to catch his breath. Just as caught up in the steamy exchange as you were. Before he steps back, allows his cock to slip free.

"Turn around, wanna see you, beautiful," the pet name speeds up your already racing heart. They were nothing new, something you had grown used to when his flirtatious remarks had started up, but the cadence of his voice felt more real, intimate.

Turning was a blessing and a curse, and both for the same reason. Astarion was handsome, there was no denying that. An air of royalty surrounded him, so perfectly pristine with so little effort. Now replaced with something just as gorgeous. White curls lay jostled, a few strands stuck to his forehead, pupils blow wide with lust, and lips swollen and bruised with the faintest strain of your lipgloss.

It isn't until he had you in his arms, a leg thrown over each one that you realize how strong he is. In the dim alley, you had only been able to make out the makings of what you assumed were abs, and while you had run your hands along his chest plenty during your initial makeout session you hadn't pegged him to be this fit. Nor did you realize how much you liked being picked up as if you were nothing but a small toy.

Astarion simply asks if you are ready, only waiting for your nod before he's once again buried deep inside you.

He kissed you sloppily, swallowing every breathy moan you let escape your pretty little mouth. Only pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

There was little regret to be had when you let your gaze linger on him. Even as someone walks past the alleys threatening to expose your rendezvous. You think that you wouldn’t mind having him fuck you senseless again.

Dark Astarion

Imagine being his little Legal Secretary who deals with all his boring administrative issues.

Late office hours where he has his hand fisted in your hair, pulling tight, as guides you to choke on his cock. The deep laugh that would rumble through his chest right before he begins to mock you. Astarion would start off sweet with a little tease about how cute you are. Before his mouth would twist into the cocky smirk he wore so often. He’d make you look at him, mouth still placed around his aching length. You meet his eyes and moan around him. In the light, they almost appear red, like a predator ready to devour its prey. A sly fox and his dumb little rabbit.

You think for a second he’s going to praise you. Tell you how good you make him feel, so you look up at him eagerly with big doe eyes. Ready for whatever compliment would slip from his perfect lips.

“You're my personal little pet. Aren’t you darling? Only good for serving me,” he says, with little room for argument. Demeaning and possessive and the best compliment he could ever bestow upon you.

His smirk grows as he observes you squeeze your thighs together, cock growing impossibly harder when he thinks about how wet you’ll be when he has you bouncing on it later.

#astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x you #astarion fanfic #reader insert #x reader #astarion #˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ 🍓 anon #˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ ven writes

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darlingkirstein · 26 days

Note

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kidding Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

#darlingkirstein asks #eremika #my writing #actor au

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unironicallycringe · 9 months

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do koltin and kilton fit in your extended demonology lorebuilding? interested what youd classify em as

THEY SURE DO, ANON, THANKS FOR ASKING!

Right so like, BotW/TotK is so incredibly far from the events of my AU, but I have definitely overthought about how the Demon Tribe stuff would fit Kilton and Koltin in.

Firstly though, some Boko Tribe stuff reminders

1) Their advantage is having very plastic physical adaptability <- to account for their wide variety of body types in the different games, encompass all the various subtypes (Moblin, Bokoblin, Miniblin, etc), and explain why they're the only demon tribe that has persisted in any noticeable numbers through the ages. They're just really pro at adapting to new things.

2) They're easily affected/warped by Magicka <- to account for the game's evil Bokos. In this way, they're a result of Malice being overused to control and resurrect them, rather than evil behavior being their norm. Basically they are on the same level of sentience as humans, but exposure to uncontrolled Malice degrades their minds much faster than it would others. It's essentially the flipside to the above plasticity advantage. They're malleable in ways that are both good and bad.

Man, what does this have to do with Kilton and Koltin, Shea?

✨They have mixed Hylian/Boko heritage ✨

(I always thought the silhouettes here were really similar and wondered if it was intentional, but anyways)

So the headcanon here is that Kilton and Koltin's parents are a non-corrupted blue Boko and a particularly adventurous Hylian. I imagine they're a very sweet couple!!!! Here they are when they were younger.

I never thought of names for them, they just exist somewhere and probably don't hang out much in towns. (We love a power couple, but this sort of thing is likely to freak out the Hylian locals.)

I like to draw the two brothers with tiny little horn nubs as a nod to this. They don't have full horns and never will, but they probably were very excited for their lil skull bumps to grow like 0.05mm over the years.

The family would very much be aware of the whole Malice corruption thing. That's why Kilton is so passionate about "monster education" - he knows the corrupt Bokos were once normal people and often just mind their own business in the wilderness, but also knows that it's dangerous for humans to try and approach. So his ventures with his traveling stall and presentations in Tarrey Town are his way of trying to bridge that gap safely.

Additionally, I imagine Kilton and Koltin can travel pretty easily amongst corrupted Bokos, but not bands of Lizal or Lynel. Kilton would have attempted creating masks because of this issue, then afterwards added the various Boko masks for humans to use. (The Magicka is extremely rudimentary, like, barely a Glamour if you're familiar with my magic systems, which is why they fail frequently). And sidenote for monster extract, I think it would be funny if it's just like, a normal ingredient his mom uses and he just puts purple food coloring in it for the Exotic Flair. Like it's just vanilla extract or something lmao.

That was the rambliest possible answer, but tldr they're half-Bokoblin teehee

#thank you for the ask i couldnt sleep so i decided i should doodle things #answered ask #demon tribes au #zelda headcanons #botw #totk #bokoblin #boko kana #my art #im back at it again with giving backstories to silly side characters #koltin is just reverse batreaux send tweet #kilton #koltin

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booppooo · 1 year

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Could I request a fem!reader x Ellie in modern au where ellie and reader see each other at a club and end up dancing with sexual tension till they take it further, feeling needy for each other? Your works are literally breathtaking

Who's That Chick?

Ellie Williams x Fem! Reader One-Shot

AN: thank you!!! This request was breathtaking teehee. *sniff sniff* is that a series I'm smelling?

Warnings: where do I even start.... strangers to lovers, smoking (cigarettes and weed), drinking, bar/club setting, oral sex (reader receiving), thigh riding, swearing

21.

You were a fully legal adult. You could buy cigarettes, and drink, and walk into bars, and even rent a hotel room!

Twenty-one was so young yet so mature. Tonight, you were going to take advantage of being young. This was going to be your night to experiment with all your new legalities.

So first you stopped at a gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes. Not that you had ever tried any before, but it had always piqued your interest. You unwrapped the plastic, took out five, and handed the rest to the homeless person huddled up outside who screamed at you for almost throwing them in the garbage can.

In your car you grabbed your lighter and held the flame to the end of the cancer stick. The smoke rolled down the back of your throat and into you lungs, burning in an oddly satisfying way. You coughed, took some sips of water, and went in for another drag. Next up was the bar.

For safety reasons you sent your friends your location and took the bus to the nearest gay friendly bar. If you were going to spend your first night shitfaced, it would be better around lesbians than icky drunk men. For the hell of it you smoked another one of your cigarettes, popped in a mint, and confidently sauntered in.

As you expected the music was loud. A layer of smoke hovered near the lights and the bar was littered with the lonely hearts club.

"Can I get a gin and tonic?" You ordered, taking a seat. Before you moseyed onto the dance floor you wanted to get some drinks in you - that and feel out the place.

The bartender started a tab and placed your drink in front of you, winking and smacking her gum. She pointed at another attendee and asked, "What can I get ya tonight hon?"

"Hey Stella, I'll have what she's having and a shot of tequila."

Stella smiled, "Comin' right up El."

The space between you and the person in the next seat over was occupied by a limber, freckled red-head, apparently named El. You got a general idea of what she looked light through the flashing lights. She was eye candy to say the least.

The heels of her hands rested on the edge of the bar, an elaborate tattoo peaking beyond her rolled up flannel sleeve and her auburn strands loosely pulled back into a low bun, one lock falling by her cheek. When she faced you, you noted the scar through her eyebrow and the shit-eating grin on her face.

The gin and tonic and El's smug smirk made your stomach warm with laughter.

"What?" her smirk grew, "I haven't even told the punchline yet?"

Her charisma made your cheeks flush, "Oh do tell."

"Alright so, two blondes walk into a bar, you think one of 'em would see it."

This had you chewing your lip and scratching your head in thought. You repeated her words slowly back to her, studying her emerald tinted eyes.

"Don't think about it too hard." She chuckled and thanked Stella for her drinks, immediately throwing back her shot.

"You think one of them would see it....oh!" Again you laughed, then rolled your eyes at how stupid the joke was. Or maybe at how stupid the joke made you feel.

"Should've I started with a pick up line?" The glass met her lips and she let the liquor sit in her mouth for a second before nodding in approval.

You pondered her question sarcastically, "I don't know El, you got a better pick up line?"

"Ellie- and I might, only if you want to hear of course."

She pulled a small compact out of her pocket with an old flip top lighter, pulling out a finely rolled joint and pinching it between her lips. The lighter was rolled against her leg in alternating directions, as if she had done it a thousand times, and held the flame to the edge of the joint.

"Now I'm curious, what could be better than two blondes walking into a bar?"

Her rough, lithe fingers reached for the nearest ash tray and tapped the excess from the joint into the already overflowing dish. She handed the joint to you. Tonight was filled with lots of firsts.

"I've got a few actually. But uh, do you know how lesbians have sex? It's kinda complicated, I'd have to show you."

You didn't know if it was from the joint or how off guard Ellie had caught you, either way you choked up. This time she was laughing at you, taking the joint back and taking a long drag, "C'mon it wasn't that bad."

To coat your throat some you took a sip of your drink, "It wasn't bad at all, just not what I was expecting." You watched her expertly let the smoke slither from her lips into her nose, "It's a good thing I'm a hands on learner." Quickly you bit your lip to hide your smile, scared to dip your toes any further into flirting.

Ellie swirled her drink around and then quickly tossed back what was left, "Speaking of hands on, wanna dance?" Her eyes were a light shade of red around her tipsy pupils and mossy irises, her smile was a little more tame, yet she was just as lively.

With a tad more enthusiasm than you would've liked, you took her hand and moved to the dance floor, stomach toasty and most definitely tipsy. If the music wasn't loud before, it definitely was now. The bass from the speakers vibrated your feet and bones.

Ellie began to bop her head, silently urging you to dance along with her. She creeped her way closer to you, eventually landing a hand on your hip and zapping all your nerves with excitement. You swayed your hips and sang the words you knew, holding her vision, unable to contain your smile.

Soon her waist was against yours, moving in sync with your maneuvering hips. She was so close and yet so far, everywhere and no where. Her tongue darted out to wet her full lips, before her teeth pinched her bottom lip and her eyes fell to watch your pelvis's dance as one. Both of her hands had a grip on your waist, and guided you along with her. You didn't know if you were sweating because of dancing, or because of her. She reached the shell of your ear, "Fuck you make me so hot."

As she pulled away her lips lightly dusted your neck, but not enough to kiss you, teasing you to see if you'd take her bait (as if you hadn't at her dumb joke).

It was time for you to get handsy. One set of fingers was resting in the crook of her neck, the other gently holding her jaw, meanwhile you both lightly bounced to the beat. Your heart was hammering against your chest so intensely it made your ribs ache, and your stomach begin to do summersaults. Somehow you felt all of this through the gin and tonic numbing most of your logic and muscles. That somehow was Ellie. She made you feel alive.

That shit eating grin reappeared on her pretty lips again, and you surveyed them for a beat before reconnecting your gaze. She was clever and quickly noticed what you were hinting at, letting her own eyes flicker from your lips and back, then arching a brow. When she noticed you slowly leaning in, she followed suit.

The thick, tense, smokey air between your lips was bridged, and in that same instant your spine shivered as goosebumps littered your skin. As you expected you tasted alcohol, weed faintly in the background. She found a sweet balance between firm and gentle, wet and dry, soft and chapped. You never wanted to leave this moment.

But alas, you had to pull away at some point, immediately noticing the expansion in her pupils and the giddy smile on her cheeks. She leaned near your ear again, "Let's get out of here."

You didn't need telling twice.

With a quick pit stop at the bar, Ellie kindly paid for both your drinks and then you were outside into the bitter night air. To keep yourself warm you lit one of your final cigarettes. Again, Ellie found her way next to you, snaking her arm across the small of your back and onto your hip, keeping you close to her as you walked to the bus stop.

There had to be some sort of morbid curiosity to smoking a cigarette, especially in the cold, watching as the smoke doubled against the chilled wind and holding yourself close. You wouldn't dare buy another pack, but for the ambiance (and truthfully to impress Ellie some) you enjoyed it while you could.

Speaking of the freckled girl, you began to learn how sneaky she was, swooping in while your cigarette was still between your lips and plucking it from you before you finished your drag. You kissed your teeth at her and snipped a small, 'hey!' but she didn't mind you too much. The end of the cancer stick burned a bright red as she took a long, deep hit, then she flicked it away. Her hand guided your expression to her's, then pressed her tender lips to yours once again, before blowing her smoke into your mouth.

"Those'll kill ya." she whispered.

"You're a little hypocrite, you know that?"

"If you say so, pretty girl."

The bus pulled up just as you arrived at the bus stop.

Ellie's apartment was closer, and to make up for her kindness at the bar you paid your bus wages. At her apartment she apologized for the mess and offered you some water or tea.

"Tea? That sounds pretty good, what kind do you have?" You rested your folded arms on her kitchen counter, overlooking the sink to watch her putter around near the fridge.

"None actually, people don't ask me for tea. I hope water is okay," she searched around her fridge, "I have two beers left if you want one of those."

"It would feel weird if we didn't share your last two beers."

"Good point."

The remaining amber bottles were taken from their chilled home and placed upon the counter. Ellie popped the lids by catching them on the edge (some chips already evident where she had opened bottles before). You toasted to the two of you and took a quick swig.

Now, she joined you on the opposite end of the sink, leaning against the counter and watching your eyes and lips as you two got to know each other better.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to open these with your teeth," you commented. A smile was stuck on your expression as if you had locked eyes with medusa - that medusa being Ellie who also couldn't stop biting her lip and smiling.

"I didn't know you could do that..." she panned down to her shoes for a moment and chuckled, "but, my mouth can do a few other things."

When a dainty pink tickled her cheeks you grew stunned. All evening she had been shamelessly flirting and joking with you, being sexy to say the least. But this was what made her bashful? Every passing second with her was like unlocking a new chapter to her personality.

You stepped closer, eyeing her from bottom to top, noticing her toned thighs and her faint abs just barely imprinting through her shirt, "Why don't you show me then?"

Both of your bottles were left to grow warm on the counter, your bodies crawling closer to one another as a lustful heat settled over your figures. Her lips were right there, ready for you to swoop in and envelope them in a zestful kiss...until-

"Wait here."

She lightly jogged around the counter again and dug around in her fridge, leaving you high and dry. For the first time that evening you felt a zing of irritation itch at your chest. Growing tired, you rested your head on your palm and waited as she instructed.

The light from the fridge disappeared as the door closed, and Ellie stood in front of it with a cherry between her fingers. She ate the cherry, spat out the pit, and then rested the stem on her tongue. Within a few seconds, she had a knotted cherry stem presented to you, and plucked it from her mouth for you to inspect. Once more you found yourself at a loss for words and just giggling uncontrollably.

"You do this with all the girls you bring home?" You teased, secretly tucking the stem away in your pocket as a keepsake.

Sensually, Ellie found herself near you again, her palm comfortably resting on your hip and sneaking toward your ass, "No actually, just you."

You playfully agreed with her and made an effort to resume where the direction of the night was heading, hooking your arms around her neck.

Ellie got the hint, "Anyway...let me show you what my mouth can really do."

In that same second her lips were latched to yours. Your core grew hot and slick embarrassingly fast, your knees like pudding and your brain melting like butter in a hot pan. She kissed you like this was the last time she would ever kiss anyone, like all her hook ups and steamy make out sessions before we're prepping her for your lips. For this night.

Suddenly she pulled away, a feeble string of saliva attached to both your lips. Her hands had wandered to your ass, one on your thigh tapping lightly, "Jump."

Rightfully so, you shot her a look of distrust, but she held your eyes confidently. If she didn't catch you, you'd just blame it on being drunk.

But she did.

And she had your legs wrapped around her torso, holding you tightly and kissing you that much more deeply as she took to her bedroom.

In one impressing swift motion she had you against the pillows and hovered over you. Both your legs were still propped by her waist and your hands explored beneath her shirt, quickly finding out she wore no bra. While your hands adventured across her strong stature, her tongue adventured in your mouth. Soon her fingers were unbuttoning your pants.

Briefly she pulled away, "Let me know if you want me to stop, and I will."

You whined, "God, please don't."

Pleased, she ran her tongue across her teeth, sending another ripple of arousal toward your thighs. She shimmied closer toward your pelvis, and kindly helped you out of your pants, then your panties.

Despite a shimmer of sweat coating your skin, the air whisking around her apartment still made you mewl when it crossed your center.

"Everything alright?" Her eyes watched you attentively.

"Y-yeah, just cold."

Those bright, grassy eyes shifted, becoming dark and nearly consumed by her pupil at the sight between your legs, "You don't need to worry about that babe."

Next she dipped down, running her tongue along your thigh and smiling sinisterly when you shuddered. Then her tongue dipped into your folds, making a searing, slippery path to your needy clit. Instinctively you hissed and tried to snap your legs shut, but her strength (which she had proudly displayed earlier) kept them exactly where she wanted them.

She met your gaze through the valleys and hills of your body, eyes still a tint of red, but now blown out like an apex predator who spotted their dinner, "Don't hold back, I wanna hear everything."

Your fists had a mighty grip on the sheets and your face was already on fire, but you nodded and grew more comfortable against her pillows.

Before you knew it she was back between your thighs. Her tongue was like a blistering knife cutting through ice cream, only incredibly wet. She swirled her tongue so expertly it had you panting and scratching at the fabric below you. You didn't see how it was possible you were growing more aroused, but your naval was burning at outstanding temperatures and left you nearly blissed out.

"Ah, oh fuck Ellie! Right there - yes."

Thighs already trembling, fingers pulling her strands from her bun, and jaw slack - you were so close to being fucked out, and it felt like you had just begun. She hadn't even used her fingers yet, and it didn't seem like she intended to either, which frazzled your body even more.

Ellie noticed your thighs twitching and knew they were weak. Holding them apart would take a lot more work than pushing them against your chest, so she shoved your limbs against your torso, digging her nails into your plush flesh.

"Oh god..." you gasped, eyes falling back into your head.

Her plump, glossed lips secured around your throbbing clit, sending you to another level of pleasure you didn't think you'd reach. Your orgasm was pooling in your groin, close to a boil and sweet like the finest syrup.

And your naval grew warmer and warmer and hotter and hotter and wetter and wetter until your climax shattered through you.

"I'm cumming- fuck don't stop Ellie!"

You felt limp and electrified at the same time, back peeling from the sheets and head getting lost further into the pillows. The moans working past your lips were unapologetic and unstoppable, like your hips jutting against Ellie's face.

When your orgasm had subsided, you felt like a sticky, sweaty, sensitive mess. Every time Ellie's tongue worked around your cunt to clean up the mess she made, your body jolted, and she soothed you by gently rubbing your thighs.

Finally, she rested your legs against the bed and crawled back over you. Her hair was as messy as yours, cheeks just as pink and smile just as loopy, the only difference was the coat of slick on her lips and chin.

"C'mere gorgeous, taste yourself."

Sloppily you exchanged a kiss, letting your tongues slide past one another and feeling along each other's sweaty physiques. You both pulled away and sucked in a deep breath.

Giggling, you hummed, "Goddamn...I don't know if I can match that."

Tucking some sticky strands behind her ear, she replied, "Let me ride your thigh and we'll call it even."

"Deal."

A new wave of energy took over your bodies and had you leaping at one another. Another hot kiss was shared as you aided her out of her jeans and planted her on your slightly propped knee.

"Take your shirt off hot stuff, I wanna play with your tits." Ellie instructed, tugging at the garment until you discarded it, "Fuck, you're so hot."

You reciprocated her words and let your hands fall to her hips, urging her to guide her core along your muscle, and when you did you groaned along with her.

Feeling her heat against your warm skin was something you didn't think you'd experience, but you were already addicted - completely and totally under the influence of Ellie.

"Yeah, that's it. How's that feel sugar?" You cooed, massaging her hips and waist.

She hummed and reached out for your chest, taking your breasts into her large palms, "So fucking good - hgnn!"

Now her slick was starting to leave a thick, silky layer on your thigh which helped her grind down easier along your limb. With each push and pull of her hips she whimpered a little louder, her freckled skin grew a little pinker, and her lids grew a tad heavier.

You could tell she was getting tired, "C'mon baby, you can do it."

To help, you pressed your leg up against her as she rode down against it, hoping to amplify her pleasure. Her hands that had consistently groped and toyed with your nipples trailed down to your torso to steady herself. She swiveled her hips up and down your leg faster and harder, no longer whimpering but panting.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck-!" She chanted, thick brows pulling into the center and pressing her lips into a fine line.

Then her groin began to stutter, her rolling hips were now sloppy, desperate strokes. When her breath got caught in her throat and she dropped her head you knew she was reaching her climax. To aid her you tried to press your leg against her, which made her shiver and yelp when she grew too sensitive.

"Holy shit..." she sighed, definitely exhausted.

You pulled her into your chest and held her for a moment, sharing a quick kiss before both taking up respective room on her bed.

Unable to keep your eyes off her, you lolled your head to the side to watch her. She seemingly had the same idea, because her eyes were already studying you.

"Share my last cigarette with me?"

Ellie laughed, "Why the hell not?"

You searched around in your pockets for the smoke, your lighter, and snagged her bedside ashtray before sinking back into the sheets. Compared to your first cigarette, the burn wasn't as intense, in fact it was almost welcomed. Still, you'd never smoke another one again.

Ellie had sat up and began to undress her upper body, "Why do you have single cigarettes and not a pack?"

"Why are you getting naked?"

She shrugged, "Didn't want you to feel left out, and I'm sweating."

You nodded, handing her the smoke, answering her question:

"I can legally buy cigarettes now, so I did. I took a couple and gave the rest away."

Her eyes widened at you, "Its your birthday?!" You hummed, "Well then...happy birthday. I hope it was a good one."

The cigarette fell back to your lips, "Definitely."

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x you

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