#i added more scenes because i want you to feel PAIN

[hayatheauthor]

10 Non-Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

New Part: 10 Lethal Injury Ideas

If you need a simple way to make your characters feel pain, here are some ideas: 

1. Sprained Ankle

A common injury that can severely limit mobility. This is useful because your characters will have to experience a mild struggle and adapt their plans to their new lack of mobiliy. Perfect to add tension to a chase scene.

2. Rib Contusion

A painful bruise on the ribs can make breathing difficult, helping you sneak in those ragged wheezes during a fight scene. Could also be used for something sport-related! It's impactful enough to leave a lingering pain but not enough to hinder their overall movement.

3. Concussions

This common brain injury can lead to confusion, dizziness, and mood swings, affecting a character’s judgment heavily. It can also cause mild amnesia.

I enjoy using concussions when you need another character to subtly take over the fight/scene, it's an easy way to switch POVs. You could also use it if you need a 'cute' recovery moment with A and B.

4. Fractured Finger

A broken finger can complicate tasks that require fine motor skills. This would be perfect for characters like artists, writers, etc. Or, a fighter who brushes it off as nothing till they try to throw a punch and are hit with pain.

5. Road Rash

Road rash is an abrasion caused by friction. Aka scraping skin. The raw, painful sting resulting from a fall can be a quick but effective way to add pain to your writing. Tip: it's great if you need a mild injury for a child.

6. Shoulder Dislocation

This injury can be excruciating and often leads to an inability to use one arm, forcing characters to confront their limitations while adding urgency to their situation. Good for torture scenes.

7. Deep Laceration

A deep laceration is a cut that requires stitches. As someone who got stitches as a kid, they really aren't that bad! A 2-3 inch wound (in length) provides just enough pain and blood to add that dramatic flair to your writing while not severely deterring your character.

This is also a great wound to look back on since it often scars. Note: the deeper and wider the cut the worse your character's condition. Don't give them a 5 inch deep gash and call that mild.

8. Burns

Whether from fire, chemicals, or hot surfaces, burns can cause intense suffering and lingering trauma. Like the previous injury, the lasting physical and emotional trauma of a burn is a great wound for characters to look back on.

If you want to explore writing burns, read here.

9. Pulled Muscle

This can create ongoing pain and restrict movement, offering a window to force your character to lean on another. Note: I personally use muscle related injuries when I want to focus more on the pain and sprains to focus on a lack of mobility.

10. Tendonitis

Inflammation of a tendon can cause chronic pain and limit a character's ability to perform tasks they usually take for granted. When exploring tendonitis make sure you research well as this can easily turn into a more severe injury.

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. This is inspiration, not a thorough guide. Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[ghostfacd]

SAVE THE GIRL

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!mentor!reader

summary: when you start to feel bad for the tributes, it’s when snow slowly starts to crack. when you snuck into the arena to properly send your goodbyes to one is when he loses it, making it his mission to get you out, even if it means costing his life

warnings: SPOILERS. descriptions of killing, Snow being a bad friend to Sejanus and manipulative, reader essentially replaces Sejanus in the movie’s original scene

“We all know how this works right guys?” Lucky Flickerman says, his eyes held a sparkle within them. “As soon as your tribute dies, you’re out!”

The screen flickers on the arena, its dusty surroundings filled you with a sense of dread.

You had gotten Lamina, a girl who you were afraid would die as soon as the timer went off. But she managed to impress you, and completely won you over when she had speared the other tributes’ pain and suffering by killing them with an axe.

“Coryo,” you whisper to the blonde hair boy who was almost drifting into sleep. “Coryo.”

“Hm?” He fixes his posture, “is something wrong with Lucy Gray?”

You shake your head, and only pointed to the empty desks surrounding you. “Many died.”

“Your point?”

It almost seems as if Coriolanus was bored of your commentary, he probably was, you did wake him from his sleep.

“This doesn’t feel right Coryo. Not at all. Any of it.”

Coriolanus lets out a breath of annoyance. It was always like that with him, he seemed always to be one step ahead—or at least he presented himself in that way, and he seemed like he was annoyed with anyone who wasn’t on the same level as him.

You and Coriolanus went way back. You were the first few to have known of the death of his father, Coriolanus had told you about it with tears in his eyes. Not because he missed his father, not really, but because he was afraid that there would be nothing left of the Snow family by the time the war was over.

When you first entered the Academy, Snow linked himself with Clemensia Dovecote, a pretty black haired girl who he had gotten close with, and if anyone didn’t know better, they might’ve been more than just friends. But Coriolanus and Clemensia came off as acquaintances by association to you more than anything.

He stopped doing group projects with you so he could do it with her, and he had made himself friendly with Sejanus, a boy who was originally from the Districts but managed to buy his way into the Capitol. Or at least, that’s what all of your seething classmates said as they looked at him in disgust.

“You sound like Sejanus.” Is all Coriolanus says, glancing back at his small television screen.

“Sejanus is our friend, Coryo.”

“Sejanus is district.” Coriolanus slams his hand on your desk, making you flinch. “No matter how much money he has, no matter how much he tries to fit in, he will always be district. And you? You might as well be district with him if you keep acting like this.”

Your brows furrow, and you start to get angry. Who the fuck does Coriolanus Snow think he is?

“And I suppose you’re so well off Capitol yourself, Coriolanus?”

The way your words drip with such venom makes Snow almost crumble, but he doesn’t, instead, choosing to inch his face just a meter over yours. “Don’t say anymore things you don’t mean, Y/N.”

And that was the end of it. Coriolanus Snow wins every argument, and you hated him so much. Why couldn’t he see this was wrong? You knew he had a heart in there somewhere, which was why he was helping Lucy Gray Baird in the first place. Unless he was doing it all for the Plinth prize, for the money.

As you watch your tribute fall to her death, the loud crack adding all to your misery, you wanted to throw the television and desk across the room, just like Sejanus had previously. They were monsters, all of them.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Coriolanus says, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

But Coriolanus Snow can’t be sorry, he can’t feel empathy, he can’t feel pain, and most importantly, he can’t feel love.

As the games went on, Coriolanus was slumped into his chair, sleep overcoming his senses.

Dr. Gaul clears her throat, her loud but snake like movements made Coriolanus jolt awake, hissing as he accidentally hurt himself on the edges of the desk.

“I see you’re still here, Mr. Snow.”

“Is something wrong?” Coriolanus asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Is Lucy Gray okay?”

“Oh her? She’s fine.” Dr. Gaul waves the girl off like she meant nothing. “It’s your friend, I’m worried about.”

“My friend?” Coriolanus whips his head around to try and find you, but you were gone, leaving no trace.

“Yes.” Dr. Gaul motions to the wide television in front. “She’s in the arena right now. Doing this goodbye thing for her tribute.”

Coriolanus doesn’t want to believe Dr. Gaul, but how could he not when you’re shown so clearly in the cameras, putting flowers into the hand of your tribute. Almost as if you saw her as human.

“Now Miss. L/N hasn’t done anything like this in the past, so it does spark questions in my mind as to why she’s suddenly..” Dr. Gaul pauses. “Rebelling.” She says this as if it were poison on her tongue.

“From Sejanus, I would expect this. But from our own people, Coriolanus? Now this is absurd. I’ll make sure to get the name of the peacekeeper who let her in and have them executed.” Dr. Gaul gives him a smile, one that sends chills up Coriolanus’s back. “Now I happen to know you two are friends, close friends even; so I need you to go into the arena and fetch her out.”

“Me?” Coriolanus stutters out, hesitance clearly showing in his voice.

“Is that hesitance I hear, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Gaul steps even closer. “Everyone in the Capitol is asleep by now, which means they won’t see the foolishness Miss. Y/N is currently causing. You will go into the arena and take her out before she does anything more stupid. I will not let these rebels make mockery of my game, Mr. Snow. I will simply not allow it.”

And Coriolanus knows he has no choice but to obey Dr. Gaul’s orders.

He makes his way quietly into the arena, making sure his footsteps weren’t creating such loud noises to alert the tributes.

“Y/N,” he whispers as he gets close to your kneeling figure. He watches as you slowly put your hand over Lamina’s eyes, closing them for her. “Y/N.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reply, not bothering to turn around to face the boy.

“But I am.” He grunts out in annoyance. “I’m here to save your ass because that’s what friends do, Y/N. So help me, and get up.”

You don’t listen to him, choosing to keep kneeling and watching your dead tribute instead. She looked peaceful, and you felt so guilty knowing there was nothing you could do to save her.

“Y/N, I mean it.” Coriolanus says in a more assertive tone. “You’re going to die out here. These tributes? They might as well be animals now, they’re gonna kill the both of us if we don’t get out.”

He grunts in annoyance when he doesn’t see you move, so he carefully walks over, placing his arm under yours, practically dragging your body up from your kneeling position.

“Cmon Y/N, you’ve got to help me.” Coriolanus whispers out. “You don’t want to die here, trust me.”

“HEY! YOU!” The two of you whip your head so quickly at the voice that it sends a dizziness into your head. “HEY!”

The remaining tributes, none of them were Lucy Gray, Wovey, or the boy from 11 with speed so quick that it took the breath in your lungs away.

“CMON!” Coriolanus grabs your hand, the both of you fiercely running towards the doors.

One of the tributes with one of his eyes shut had a sharp blade in his hand, successfully slicing into Coriolanus’s back and your arm. The two of you let out a moan of pain, the frenzy feeling of adrenaline overwhelming the both of you.

Coriolanus lets your hand go for a second, pushing the tribute back harshly, managing to make him drop his weapon. Coriolanus picks up one of the broken poles, repeatedly hitting the male tribute with it until his body stopped moving completely.

You thought he’d be done with it, but he lets out a scream of anger, plunging the pole into the tribute’s body, making you shriek out in horror.

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Coriolanus breathes out to you, practically limping hand in hand with you as he sees the other tributes catching up from the distance. “Open the door!”

The peacekeepers opened the door, closing it right as one of the more fiercer tribute sticks her trident out. “You’re lucky you’ve escaped this time.” She growls out.

You fall onto the ground as soon as Coriolanus lets go of your hand.

“Hey,” he croaks out, kneeling to cup your face into his hands. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

He sounds so reassuring, so kind, and not like the Coriolanus you had despised from earlier.

“I..” you can’t even get a word out before you’re full on sobbing, not caring if you were embarrassing yourself in front of Coriolanus and the two peacekeepers.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He places his hand on the back of your head, bringing you into his chest. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

“No one will ever hurt you, Y/N.”

And if there’s one thing Coriolanus Snow is good at—it’s ensuring he gets what he wants.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART SEVEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Swearing and Adam.

Notes: shit is about to go down.

PART ONE | PART SIX | PART EIGHT | NAVIGATION

“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.

“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.

Adam nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, “Heyyy there [Y/n]... I didn't expect you to be hereee or rather, I didn't expect to see you today... Don't you have work...?” he says nervously, clearly not expecting the news would reach the Seven Heavenly Virtues this soon and [Y/n]'s eyes narrowed even more at him, her wings fluttering behind her back—puffed up and angry.

“Enough Adam, you've done enough pain and destruction here. Take the exorcists and your ass back hOME!” She sneered, her eyes looking at Adam with annoyance, “You and Sera will be held accountable for your actions and for your disobedience and if you don't want a severe punishment then I suggest you go home quietly and quickly. Do you understand?” she snapped, her voice filled with anger and authority. Reminding them who they're dealing with.

Adam avoided her gaze and eventually nodded, “I understood...” he muttered, opening a portal back to heaven with a snap of his fingers, “Exorcists! Fall back and return.” Adam ordered and flew past [Y/n], the exorcists following behind him.

The sinners just looked at the scene in awe, an angel ordering Adam to stop whatever the fuck he was doing and the man just complied without questions.

Lucifer's eyes never left her form, he never stopped looking at her in fear that the moment he blinks she will disappear once more. Like a dust in the wind.

[Y/n] sighed, her angelic form calming down once Adam and the exorcists left, the portal closing. She turned back to look down on the sinners. Her heart ached when her eyes finally landed on her husband. Her mind telling her to imagine it was Xavier but how can she? When Lucifer was missing Xavier's [e/c] eyes? That is not her son, that is Lucifer, her husband, ex-husband?? She doesn't know the status of their marriage and she's in too much in pain to care.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her fast beating heart, she can feel her body is weakening even more. She barely got any rest, she's also wounded and her healing powers took most of her energy. She just hoped she had enough to last to return back home and back to her son.

She slowly flies down to where the sinners are, to where Lucifer is.

She landed in front of them gracefully, well, a little wobbly.

The sinners and Lucifer looked at her with hesitation, nervous whether she was a new enemy or an ally.

“Greetings, I am Raphael from the Seven Heavenly Virtues.” She greeted, giving them a small bow, “On behalf of heaven and the seven heavenly virtues, we apologized for Sera's, Adam's, and the exorcists' behavior. This cleansing wasn't approved by the others and was done without the other's notice. We will make sure that they will be held accountable for their actions and disobedience. We never intended for sinners to suffer like this.” she says, her voice quivering before kneeling in front of them.

This is so embarrassing. [Y/n] thought to herself.

Their eyes widened in surprise to see an angel, a seraphim angel prostrate herself, her head on the ground as she asked for their forgiveness.

They were also surprised to know that this cleansing wasn't a decision made by the entirety of heaven but just a few people.

Charlie waved her hands, trying to get the woman to stop kneeling, “Um... Please raise your head...” Charlie says nervously.

Lucifer was speechless, how could he not? His first wife that he didn't see for so many millennia is here. His eyes caught sight of a golden wedding ring on her ring finger—the very wedding ring he slipped into her finger when they got married, he could never forget it. She still wore it after all these years, after all the things he has done to her and their family. She waited for him...

[Y/n] raises her head, her eyes tired and... Lucifer doesn't remember her eyes to be this... Sad. His heart broke into pieces. He's done this, he caused her so much pain and it changed her. Those aren't the eyes of the [Y/n] he fell in love with, [Y/n]'s eyes were so bright and hopeful before and now... It doesn't even look like it can see herself living tomorrow. It doesn't even look like she has gotten enough sleep judging by the heavy bags underneath her eyes and the dark circles around her eyes.

[Y/n] avoided Lucifer's gaze, she felt so small and weak underneath his eyes. Even after all these years he still had this much effect on her.

[Y/n] tried to focus on whatever the girl said, her ears were slightly ringing and her eyes were slightly blurring. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before slowly standing up, wobbling slightly.

Everyone noticed it, something is definitely wrong with her and it made them worry. They can notice how pale she looked and she seems to wince slightly whenever she moves.

“Are... Are you okay...?” Charlie asked worriedly, helping her up and [Y/n] smiled, though it never reached her eyes. The girl looked just exactly like Lucifer, this must be his daughter then?

“I'm just a little tired, don't worry about me.” She says weakly, patting the girl's head.

“I think I would be leaving now, we'll make sure to punish both Adam and Sera for their actions and we'll try to help hell find a better way to deal with its growing population.” She says, gently parting away from the girl's hold. Her body felt heavy and so incredibly exhausted. This is bad, she needs to get home soon.

She stumbled slightly, Lucifer's eyes widened and his body moved without thinking  and caught her effortlessly, her head pressed against his chest, [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her eyes starting to prick, no don't cry, don't cry... He felt so warm and so soft, she missed this. She weakly tries to push him away. She can still smell his signature perfume of vanilla and roses from his suit. The scent calmed her down slightly.

“Lucifer... Please don't... Please don't hold me like this... Please don't hold me like you still care...” she pleaded weakly, trying to push him away. Her arms on his chest, weakly pushing him away but the man wouldn't budge.

These two have history together... The others thought as they looked at the two angelic beings.

Lucifer's heart aches even more but refusing to let go of her and make her fall into the floor, he can tell she's incredibly exhausted by how much she's no longer trying or having the energy to stand up for herself.

“No [Y/n]... I made that mistake before and I promised not to lose you again...” he says, his voice cracking with emotions, slightly choking on his words. [Y/n]'s eyes widened at his words, her heart aching, hurting, she wants to believe his words, but the damage is not so easy to fix. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She nuzzled her head against his chest, her eyes finally rolling back as she passed out into his arms. Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. Despite all of that, Lucifer's arms are as warm and comforting as she remembers.

Lucifer's gaze softened, he gently shifted [Y/n]'s limp body so he's now carrying her bridal style. Making sure he's not causing her even more pain.

His eyes returned back to the sinners and her daughter, they looked at him with evident confusion in their eyes. He sighs, “She's... My first wife... First ex-wife.. I don't know...” he answered pathetically to the unspoken question in the air, even he himself doesn't know what his status with her is. They never really divorced each other.

Angel Dust whistled, “Quite a dilemma you got there toots.” he snickered and Lucifer glared at him before sighing, he himself agreed to that statement, “I know...” he sighs.

“I'll just leave her somewhere safe to rest and I'll come back to help fix and tidy up this place.” Lucifer says, summoning a portal behind him and quickly stepping in with [Y/n] in his arms. The others didn't have time to protest as the portal closed before they could.

Lucifer carried her effortlessly in his arms, walking towards his bedroom—it is currently the cleanest as the other rooms were dusty from being unused.

He gently laid her down to rest on his bed, making sure she's not lying down on her hair. He was about to tuck her in when he noticed something golden seeped into her white dress, just by her waist.

His eyes widened, that's blood. Angelic blood to be specific.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She's bleeding, what the actual fuck happened to her?

He thought to himself, debating whether to rip her dress or undress her so he could treat her wound.

“Oh Satan. I shouldn't overthink this, she's in desperate need of help.” Lucifer muttered underneath his breath, hands shaking. Why wouldn't he? She's finally back in his arms and now she's wounded and bleeding and passed out to exhaustion? He's behind worried!

Think Lucifer, think.

He thought to himself before finally getting an idea. He gently wakes her up with a small nudge, causing the girl fo groan and open her eyes.

Pain, sharp pain on her side is what [Y/n] felt first when she woke up. She could see a familiar mop of light blond hair. Disoriented, her eyes blurry,  and head aching, she just groaned, “Xavier...?” she calls out, thinking it was her son.

“I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm just going to undress you and treat your wound real quick. Can I do that?” he murmured, asking for her consent. [Y/n] just nodded and groaned before passing out again.

Lucifer sighs in relief, snapping his fingers together to remove her dress and changed her into something comfortable and appropriate. A light pink satin pajamas. He lifted up her shirt and Lucifer had to cover his mouth.

So much concentrated negative energy is present on her wound, a wound that is located at the left side of her waist.

Lucifer swallows the lump of nothing in his throat, he sits on the empty spot of his bed. He'll worry later, he needs to heal her as fast as he can. Placing his hand above her wound, hovering slightly. A golden aura radiates from the palm of his hand.

No wonder she's so exhausted, it's taking so long to heal this wound. He thought, exerting more energy into healing her. His eyebrows furrowed as he maintained his concentration, making sure his power flows directly into his hand.

Slowly and surely, her wound began to close in. Lucifer could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the concentrated negative energy making the healing process much more harder.

No wonder she was so exhausted, she must've tried healing herself before coming here. He thought to himself.

With a gasped, the wound finally closed and healed itself. It felt like his life was sucked out of him after healing her.

He sighs, his eyes softening as his gaze landed on her sleeping form. She no longer had that pained expression on her face after healing her and he's glad. He's glad to be able to at least help her and not cause her pain for once. He gently lifts her hand and pressed a chaste kiss at her knuckle before bringing it back down again to her side.

He tucks her underneath the blanket, making sure she's comfortable.

He left her side once more, this time, promising that he'll be back. He just needed to help his daughter. He'll be back before she wakes up.

“Luci...? Please don't leave me again...” she whispers in her sleep, snuggling into his warm blanket. Lucifer's eyes watered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“I'll be back before you know it, I'll see you soon, [Y/n].” he whispers before teleporting away in specks of red and golden dust.

Meanwhile, in heaven.

“YOU LEFT MY MOTHER BEHIND?!” Xavier growled, pissed. He glares at Adam, the first man. Annoyed that the man left his mother with his father, THE MAN WHO LEFT HER FOR ANOTHER WOMAN!

“Look, your mom was clearly pissed off and I don't want to face her wrath. I can tell that that woman is holding so much anger inside her and just waiting to blow up.” Adam says nonchalantly, a sigh escaping his lips, shrugging.

Xavier wanted to rip his own hair in frustration. He is beyond worried, he just found out that his mother would be taking care whatever bullshit is happening in hell and she's been gone for hours now! Adam and the exorcists' arrived back in heaven three hours ago and there is still no sign of his mother.

He's worried, he knows his mother has just gotten out of work from the mortal realm and went straight down to hell to fix whatever damage Adam and the exorcists' did.

“Fuck this, I'm going down there and look for her.” Xavier says with a sigh, annoyed at Adam for being good for nothing.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[gallusrostromegalus]

I am constantly procrastinating working on my original fic by writing fanfic. Any advice for how to refocus and finish my novel?

Well. The novel probably needs a nap.

Procrastinating is a symptom that something is preventing you from doing the thing you "should" be doing. Most of the time it's an unrelated, but actually higher priority task like resting after an illness (society is fucking lying about anything else being more important) or filing your taxes (actually this one is pretty important).

...but if you're procrastinating on one creative project with another creative project, you're not procrastinating: something about the novel is off right now, the fanfic is more appealing to you.

Consider the following:

You may be writing fic because it brings you more joy than the novel. If you really want to get back to the novel, figure out what would make working on it more enjoyable. Engagement from a beta-editor? Skipping this really boring scene and coming back to it later? Adding more smut?

You may also be writing fic because it's got a lower spoon coat than the novel and you need to conserve your spoons right now. Any extra stress in your life? Moving? Toothache? Recovering from Covid? Annoying roommate? Sick family member? It's an election year? ANY of those could soak up extra spoons and make your novel too expensive for your spoons budget. Let it take a nap, and come back when you're feeling better.

You may be sharpening your artistic skills on a lower-stakes project before going back to the novel. This is pretty normal- even Michaelangelo took breaks to work on other pieces while sculpting The David, both for a change of pace and so he could try something out without fucking up the big block.

Fortunately, you're writing, so you can always try writing the challenging scene a dozen times in different docs or save the parts that were good but don't not in a spare parts bucket doc.

Or keep working on that fic, it's helping you learn on a subconscious level.

You don't love the novel right now. This is alright. This is usually temporary, and the solution is the same- put it aside and work on something else.

Maybe you are just bored of the novel. That's fine and normal, you just save all the documents to your hard drive and come back later. When the fic inevitably gets boring too, you'll come back to the novel and either go "oh hey this kicks ass!" And return to it with renewed enthusiasm.

...Or you'll come back to it and go "oh. This is actually a piece of shit" And that's okay too, because there's nothing more useless than polishing a turd, but that turd is still valuable as compost. You learned things writing it, and you can still rifle through the novel for good lines or scenes or turns of phrase and put those in your spare parts doc to ferment into The Good Shit in the back of your mind.

HOWEVER:

If you are experiencing a different phenomenon wherein you are actively distressed while writing the fic- either out of misplaced guilt, or the fic isn't actually fun you just feel compelled to do something, or absolutely every creative endeavor is stressing you out, you may be experiencing a serious mental or physical health issue and you should see your GP or a specialist ASAP. Pain is an indicator that something is wrong. Do not ignore your body's warning light.

That sounds really dramatic and hyperbolic but realizing I was not enjoying ANY creative work was the symptom that finally got me to sit down and go "huh. All these random pains, irregular sleep cycle, frequent migraines and weird bouts of vertigo aren't normal either, I should get this looked at." And it turned out I had dangerously low blood oxygen at night from undiagnosed sleep apnea. I have a CPAP machine now and it's AMAZING.

I really hope this is regular artistic shuffle and not a serious health concern, but if you're experiencing creative stress AND a bunch of other shit, it may be serious.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

I have gone down this rabbit hole now and I'm afraid I'm never getting out. I hope I give justice to this. And sorry if this is long.

I've seen a lot of the Colin and Marina vs. Colin and Penelope analyses in here and I want to raise this parallel as to how the Butterfly ball was such a powerful move for both Penelope and Colin. We all have our issues with how they handled Pen and Colin finding their way back to each other but let me add this perspective and hope it helps us understand how real they handled the issue of LW and pushed the character development for them both.

The scene on the left is from S01e06 (Swish) and the right is S03e08 (Into the Light)

S1 scene - Violet is still in her dressing gown, obviously distraught having just read something from LW. She hears someone come down and finds Colin.

S3 scene - Violet is dressed for the morning and her face looks a combination of surprise and confusion after reading a letter. She turns around when she hears someone coming down the stairs.

In both scenes, we see Colin coming down the stairs.

S1 - we only see Colin's back. We're in suspense on what emotional state he is in but we do know that he's on his way to elope with Marina.

In S3 - we see Colin's face immediately looking determined and ready. We see Violet calling his name quite urgently.

S1 - Colin sees his mother's face looking like a combination of disappointment and anger. He asks what's happening. She doesn't say anything but just looks at Colin with a sadness that only a mother can give.

S3 - Violet pointedly says that she received a letter from Colin's wife (I love this line so much) that sounds awfully like "I need you to explain what's happening right now."

S1 - Violet hands Colin LW without saying anything and just looks so so so sad. Colin is shocked to his core because we learn that LW (Pen) exposes Marina's pregnancy and that she has been pregnant from the beginning of the season.

S3 - Colin determinedly faces his mother telling her that they had better sit. And I'm guessing that Colin tells her everything.

Where am I going with this? (Gosh, doing an analysis is hard 😂)

The first time Colin fell in love (thought he fell in love), he was blindsided. But I believe the pain he felt at that time was made deeper because his family had to save him from the situation (Anthony explaining that his actions in the scandal will affect his sisters' prospects as well). To think that it was his mother who first learned of the situation added salt to the wound because we all know that he is a mama's boy and that the one person he dislikes letting down is his mother.

The second (and last time) Colin falls in love, he once again feels betrayed. But he's fallen in love so deeply that he can't imagine his life without Pen. The struggle he goes through in understanding his emotions was very hard to watch and it's because the issue goes beyond his and Pen's relationship. It extends to his family.

Colin's hero complex goes beyond feeling worthy of Pen's love but also worthy of the Bridgerton name. We see it several times in S3 when he mentions it in his confrontation with Portia (" I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name...") and when Pen tells him that Cressida discovered her secret ("It will besmirch our Bridgerton name. The entire family").

The whole sequence in the study is now more significant because of what Pen addresses in their conversation-- Colin's family ("Your family... the one you so kindly shared with me, they are too good").

Pen's "sacrifice" ("But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity."), I believe, was to save the Bridgerton family (once again) and she asks Colin to stand by her as she formulates and executes this plan.

It was very important that Pen wrote a letter to Violet directly and that Colin was there right after she's read it to explain everything. From this point on, they were a team. From this point on, Colin moves in parallel with Pen instead of against it. Colin finally sees that version of Pen that she's always been even while she was LW-- the person who was always determined to save his family just as much as he does.

From this point on, their goals were aligned.

10 rewatches after, I finally see how Colin found his way back to Pen. It wasn't very obvious to me how he got over the feelings of betrayal after he discovered Pen was LW. Of course, him reading the letters help but the events leading up to the Butterfly ball, helped him see her as both Pen and Lady Whistledown and the overflowing pride we see on his face was heart-melting to watch.

From this point on, they finally see each other eye to eye. From this point on, they finally accept this version of each other.

If you got to the end, thanks for reading my humble musings.

*Editing to add this: The Butterfly Ball deep dive series

[duckieflix]

♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧

☆ ⸝⸝  "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."

kusuo saiki x reader

warnings: swearing, toritsuka.

monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.

saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.

the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.

"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”

saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.

all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.

once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.

a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.

“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.

now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.

“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.

everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.

of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.

y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.

"perv"

the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.

“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.

“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.

“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”

saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”

y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.

a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.

"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.

now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.

"its a heart" he bluntly stated.

y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.

when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.

scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!

"holy shit"

after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.

"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.

"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.

saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.

they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.

the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.

“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”

our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.

“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.

she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.

“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.

“just make my coffee”

[harknessxo]

Okay I may sound insane but could I request a one shot or short story whatever you are more comfortable writing. The premises behind the story is the reader is an apothecary witch from Agatha’s past. Agatha has asked her to join them in walking the road as well as the others. She reluctantly agreed but not without attitude. The problem with going on this journey at least for the reader is that she’s not just a scorn witch from Agatha‘s past, but one that she would have considered a friend along time ago. Agatha would always come to her in order to be healed or for a remedy due to whatever difficult situation she got herself into overtime. They grew closer together, but Agatha made it apparent that she wasn’t capable of the type of relationship the reader was wanting from her. Not to the readers knowledge, but because of everything that had happened between her and Rio.

How the story starts is that they are currently on the road after completing the second trial in the studio and healing teen from his injury . At the campfire while all the different witches are trading their battle stories you listen to Agatha speak and then Rio. Somewhat connecting the dots on your own, but not fully believing it, not until you follow them both and watch the scene that unfolds between them in the fourth episode. It’s then that the reader realizes that maybe Agatha was always capable of feeling that type of emotional vulnerability but the reader just wasn’t worth it. How it ends is really up to you. It could be somehow Agatha figured out that the reader was spying on them and then fixes it in a sweet way to show that the reader is worth it. or it could be Agatha completely denying any change between her and Rio that she was only using manipulation tactics to see if teen was her son, a mix of both. I’m not picky.

Once again, if this is too insane, please ignore it. I do understand it’s completely random, but I do love your writing style and do you think you would do it absolute justice!!!!

THE GREATEST

Paring: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: look at the request ^

Warnings; angst…

Word Count: 2.0k

Part 2

A/n: I hope you like this anon! I know you lowkey wanted a happy ending but angst took over. I’m open to making a part two if you’d like! Also this originally had nothing to do with the song “The Greatest” but then I added a part of the lyrics so…

“Jen! Y/n! Do something please!” Agatha pleaded, holding Teen’s hand tightly. You and Jennifer looked at each other, trying to figure out something that would heal his wound and help him survive. You both quickly made a substance and spread it over his wound. He groaned in pain but the wound healed and he continued to sleep. You all gently picked him up and placed him in a better place to rest. Agatha stayed by his side, refusing to leave and the rest of you went to make a bonfire.

You sat down around the fire for an awkward moment before Alice chose to speak up to start a conversation. She shared her experience with her curse and her scars and soon everyone told their experiences except Rio. You didn’t like her from the second she dug herself out of the ground. You could tell there was immense tension between her and Agatha and you detested it.

“How is he?” Alice’s voice brought you back to reality. You looked up and saw Agatha taking a seat next to Rio.

“Mouthy,” she replied sarcastically.

“That’s a good sign,” Lilia commented.

“Agatha,” Jen started, “Why don’t you show us your battle scars?” Agatha hesitated for a moment before she started rolling up the sleeve of her left arm. Your eyes diverted to Rio who chuckled while she gave Agatha a knowing look.

“Knitting needle to the elbow,” she said, showing off the scar on her elbow, “You ever heard of the daughters of liberty?” of course you knew of them, you were the one that healed said scar but the rest shook their heads having no idea, “Exactly.” All the witches chuckled her light joke and you could tell Agatha enjoyed it. The joyful moment suddenly came to a stop when Rio decided to speak up.

“I’ve got a scar.” All eyes turned to Rio as she spoke. Agatha’s expression changed, her face becoming serious and a bit irritated.

“No you don’t,” Agatha was quick to deny. How would she know that? You thought.

“Yes I do,” she insisted, “…A long time ago, I loved someone,” she side eyed Agatha, “…and I had to do something I did not want to do even though it was my job,” she emphasized the last word and you saw Agatha looked away from the corner of your eye. She clenched her jaw, her eyes fixed elsewhere. The other witches exchanged glances, sensing the tension between the two. Rio continued to speak.

“And it hurt them,” there was a pause, “…she’s my scar.” It wasn’t hard to figure out who she was talking about and it angered you even further. Why did Agatha lie to you? Were they still together when you fell in love? Were you just not enough?

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” Agatha said standing and walking away, Rio hot on her trail. Curiosity got the better of you and decided to follow them, the worst decision you could have made.

You watched their interaction, the hug, the loving look, and before their lips touched you walked away. You had seen enough. You fought with every bone in your body trying to keep your sobs at bay. You felt so betrayed but you shouldn’t. Agatha had made it crystal clear that she couldn’t pursue a commitment relationship with you like you wanted. That she wouldn’t. It hurt to hear but maybe it was for the best, especially if she was still messing around with Rio.

You made your way back to the campfire, trying to hide the tears in your eyes. The others looked at you, noticing the change in your demeanor.

“Are you alright?” Lilia asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m f-fine,” your voice cracked a bit, “That last trial just had me a little shaken, that’s all.” Alice frowned and shifted closer to you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Mhm…” You gave her a reassuring smile before sitting back down by the fire. Alice didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press further. The others exchanged glances, clearly worried about you but they didn’t say anything. Soon Agatha came back taking a seat next to you with no trace of Rio but you remained silent. Agatha looked at you, noticing your lack of response. She was oblivious to the facts that you had seen her with Rio.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” You didn’t reply and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. She gently placed her hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged her hand off. She was taken aback by your cold response. She was used to you being more open and warm, not this.

“Bullshit,” she said firmly, crossing her arms.

“It’s not like you would fucking care,” you spat out, getting up and walking away. She wanted to go after you but Rio appeared and held her back.

“Let her cool off. I’m sure it’s nothing.” She said into Agatha’s ear.

“Yeah…maybe you’re right.”

—

After everyone was rested, you all continued to walk the road onto the next trial. Usually you would have stayed by Agatha's side but you chose to stay with Lilia and Alice this time. You thought Agatha hadn't noticed, too deep in a conversation with Rio but she did and she was not happy at all.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed as she watched you walk with Lilia and Alice. She tried to keep her cool, but the sight of you ignoring her and choosing to stay away from her made her feel frustrated and angry. She couldn’t understand why you were acting this way and why you were avoiding her. Her fist balled up tightly when she saw you laughing with Alice. Rio noticed Agatha’s reaction and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, sweetheart. You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”

“I just don’t understand what happened!” Agatha said, frustrated. Rio rolled her eyes before cupping Agatha’s face, making her look at her.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s probably just throwing a tantrum.” Agatha’s face was filled with irritation as she listened to Rio’s words.

“Tantrum? She’s never like this! I’ve never seen her this upset before, she’s avoiding me, she’s acting like a brat.”

“Relax, Agatha,” she kissed her cheek, “Just focus on me.” Her irritation slowly melted away as Rio kissed her cheek. She looked at her and took a deep breath, trying to push her worries about you to the back of her mind.

“You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile. She needed to keep Rio happy for now, just until they got to the end of the road.

Your eyes had wandered to the two women at some point and you regretted it immediately, seeing Rio kiss Agatha’s cheek. Rio looked in your direction while doing it with a smirk on her face. You wanted to lounge at her but for what? For Agatha? She didn’t want you anyway, you just had to come to peace with that.

Rio caught your eye and noticed the hurt and jealousy in your expression. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She knew she was getting to you, and that only made her more determined to keep Agatha away from you.

You all eventually found the next trial inside another house. You all split up into pairs to find some sort of clue. Alice and Teen, Jen and Lilia and of course, Agatha and Rio. Lilia offered to go with you but you declined and said you could take care of yourself if something happened.

She had looked at you with concern but respected your decision. She nodded and went off with Jen to search the house. You were left alone, walking through the house and looking for clues. You could hear the others calling out to each other as they searched different rooms. Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching you and you already knew who it was.

“Agatha, shouldn’t you be with Rio?” She appeared from behind you, her expression serious.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“You seemed busy with Rio, that’s all.”

“You saw that…” she said, realizing what you were referring to.

“Yeah. You know, I thought you said you couldn’t pursue the type of relationship I wanted from you. Now I know you simply wouldn’t do it, with me at least. Why don’t you go back to your precious green witch. I’m sure she’s already missing you.” Agatha’s expression softened and she looked hurt by your words.

“It’s not like that…”

“Please,” you laughed, shaking your head, “Save it. I literally saw you two about to kiss.”

“You don’t understand…” she stepped closer.

“Agatha, what is there to understand? You lied to me. You said your heart was jaded and then I find out you have an ex lover who you seem to still be in love with.”

“Don’t act like you know everything. You don’t understand the situation between Rio and me.” Her eyes flashed with irritation.

“Then lay it out for me Harkness!” She clenched her jaw, her hands balling into fists. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“Rio and I…we have a complicated history. We were together a long time ago, and it didn’t end well. We had a falling out and we haven’t spoken in years. Seeing her again has brought up a lot of old feelings and emotions that I didn’t know how to deal with.”

“…do you love her?”

“No, of course not-” she said without hesitation.

“Then what’s the deal? Does she know that? Because she seems to know the effect you two have on me.”

“My sweet Y/n,” she cupped your face, “I just need her and the rest of the witches to get me to the end and then you and I can be together-”

“It’s not that simple Agatha,” you shoved her off, finally letting the tears fall, “I don’t even know if I can trust you. And what of her, huh? You’re just gonna leave her hanging? How do I know you won’t do the same with me? How do I know you’re not just using me?!”

“I’m not using you! I care about you, Y/n. You have to believe me.” She reached out to touch you but stopped herself.

“How can I?! You have a reputation, Agatha!” Her face fell, hurt by your words.

“You don’t trust me because of my reputation? I thought you knew me better than that…”

“So did I...” your voice broke at the end. She was speechless. She knew you were right. She had hurt you, and now you didn’t trust her. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.*

“I…I don’t know what to say…”

“Then don’t say anything,” you tried to walk past her but she quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you from walking away.

“Please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about? You’ve made your choice and it clearly isn’t me.”

“That’s not true! I do care about you. I just…I don’t know what to do. Seeing Rio again has brought up all these memories and feelings that I thought I buried a long time ago. I don’t know how to handle it all.”

“Then come back once you’ve figured it out,” you roughly freed yourself from her grip and walked away to find Lilia and Jen. You didn’t want to walk away. You wanted to cling to her but you couldn’t get yourself into a situation where you would eventually get hurt…again.

Agatha watched you walk away, her heart breaking. She wanted to call out to you, to beg you to stay, but she knew she had messed up. She felt a mix of guilt and regret, knowing that she had hurt you deeply. She sank to the ground, her head in her hands. She replayed the argument over and over in her head, regretting every word she said. She wanted to make things right with you, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy. As much as she cared about you, she couldn’t deny the history she had with Rio. She was at a crossroads, torn between two people who both meant something to her.

Taglist; @oh-no-bummer @wandasreallover @polaris-likethestar

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[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner - Azriel (5)

AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!

(1), (2), (3), (4)

Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.

Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.

No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.

You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.

It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.

When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.

“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.

“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”

“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”

Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.

And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.

So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.

“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”

“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”

“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”

Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.

You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.

It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.

You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.

Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.

If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.

Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath.  As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.

“Hi”

His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.

You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.

Unable to move, you only blinked.

“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”

Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.

The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.

The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.

“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.

“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”

Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.

“I have things to do”

You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.

You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.

His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.

Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.

The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.

Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.

“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.

The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.

-

There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.

Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.

You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.

After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.

You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.

In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.

The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.

Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.

Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.

“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”

“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”

“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”

“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.

The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.

You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.

The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.

That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.

“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”

“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”

“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”

“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”

You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.

But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.

And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.

The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.

“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.

While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.

At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.

The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.

“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”

It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.

People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.

Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.

There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.

It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.

You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.

You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.

“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.

“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”

Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.

Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.

Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.

“You don’t like last minute shopping”

It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.

Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.

But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.

“I had to” you answered.

With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.

You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.

Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.

“I should go”

“I should go”

You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.

“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”

You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.

Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.

Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Sorry”

That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.

So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.

-

It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.

The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.

“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”

“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”

“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “

“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”

You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.

But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.

Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.

Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.

You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.

The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.

It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.

If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.

You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.

“Y/N”

Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.

It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.

“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.

“Just came back. I was…”

Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.

Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.

He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.

Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.

“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”

“What happened?”

Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.

He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.

Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.

“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”

He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.

But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.

Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.

“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”

“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.

“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”

Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.

It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.

Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.

“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”

Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.

As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.

Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.

“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”

And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.

What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.

You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.

It had.

“Az”

It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.

Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.

So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.

“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “

“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”

Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.

The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.

You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.

But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.

“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”

You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.

At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.

Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.  

From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.

“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”

“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.

“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”

“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”

“Always”

“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.

While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.

Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.

“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”

“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3 @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @wallacewillow0773638 @just-m-2 @theravenphoenix26 @glitterypirateduck @a-frog-with-a-laptop @justdreamstars

[creamhoodie]

Hot Kettle

synopsis: "Reader is a new teacher at Jujutsu High school. She and Gojo have mutual feelings for each other but she at first thinks he is a player and avoids him. After being snowed in and spending time with each other, they learn more about each other.

A/N:Not sure how I feel about this but I've been working on it for weeks and have writer's block when trying to write anything else.

tags/warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, afab reader. Switching perspectives between Gojo & Reader. Flashback scenes written in italics. Other jjk characters mentioned.

word count: 8.2K

Snow flurries fell on the campus of Tokyo Jujutsu High and the ground had frozen into crystals.

You had only been working as a professor here for four months and it was your first winter here. 

Principal Yaga had sent out an email saying that classes were canceled. Of course the students rejoiced, but for faculty members snow days meant faculty meetings. 

You made your way to the designated meeting spot now, your snow boots clicking along the ice as you made your way into the building. 

Upon arrival, you found the room empty. Strange. Surely this had been the designated meeting room as stated in Principle Yaga’s email. 

Perhaps you were early? You had a tendency to arrive notoriously early for meetings and events. No matter, it gave you enough time to pop into the lounge room and heat up your ramen as a substitute for the breakfast you had skipped in order to arrive on time. 

You made your way into the lounge room that was only two doors over. It was also empty, but that was expected given the ghostlike fashion of the building besides your presence. You placed your tote bag down on the table and took out your heatable ramen. Fortunately you had packed a plastic fork. 

That meant the only thing you needed was water. The kettle was out already, strange but there was nothing suspicious about this given that and the toaster were often left out after use and not put away into their assigned cabinets. 

You went to grab it and as you did let out a blood curdling shriek as the white hot pain in your palm and fingers signified it had recently been used. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Oh my god we’re sorry Professor!”

“What do you mean we? I told you to put it away!” 

As your eyes opened, having winced them from the pain, your eyes focused to find three of the students: Megumi fushiguro, Yuiji Itadori, and Nobara Kugisaki.

They were all staring at you with concern and from the mugs they were holding in their hands and their words you pieced together that they were the culprits.

You didn’t have a chance to respond however as footsteps came running over and to add more insult to injury, your fellow faculty members were peering in: Principale Yaga, Mei-Mei, Kento Nanami, and of course dreadfully… Satoru Gojo. 

You felt his eyes watching you underneath his blind fold.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice sounded unusually harsh.

“We wanted to make hot chocolate and we were in a rush because afterwards we were gonna have a snowball fight using our techniques. I guess we didn’t put the kettle away properly and the Professor here got burnt,” Yuji explained for the group. 

His explanation did nothing to dissuade Gojo however.

“And how many times have we told everyone to put the kettle away properly so that this doesn’t happen?” 

By this point, all eyes were on Gojo. He was sounding so stern and angry, nothing like himself. He was usually the most carefree of the adults. 

“Gojo, it’s okay. They didn’t mean to, I should have been more careful,” you said. 

“No it’s not okay,” Gojo said, going up to you now, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had been shed from the pain. 

Now your face was flushing and you were glad that the onlookers would just take it as embarrassment from the situation not knowing that there was more at play here, that there was history between you and the blind folded man which added to your embarrassment.

“That’s enough. Gojo, would you escort her to Shoko please? She should still be in her office since she hadn’t met with us yet for the meeting,” Principal Yaga said. 

“Can Nanami escort me instead please?” you asked.

You didn’t want to be alone with Gojo, it would only make things more awkward, no right now you needed to be with anyone but him. 

“That’s fine with me, I’ll go with you,” Nanami said, ever the gentleman. 

You gave an apologetic smile to the students as you followed Nanami.

“Oh and Nanami? Relay to Shoko that the meeting is canceled. I’m sure given the morning’s events and the weather that’s the last night anyone wants to do,” Principal Yaga said. 

You felt several eyes watching you as you followed your tan suited escort, but only one pair of those eyes mattered, pairs that you had actively been trying to avoid. 

The thing you enjoyed about Kento Nanami was that he didn’t pry, meaning he wasn’t one to ask invasive questions. 

While others may have asked about Gojo and why he had reacted the way he had, Nanami had only assured you he’d get you there safely and that Shoko has healed far worse. 

He had a calm presence and demeanor, the type that set you completely at ease. That is why though you had only been here a short while he was your favorite coworker.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your morning,” you felt the need to apologize to him all the same. 

“It’s no matter. I’m sure you didn’t want to be burnt this morning, but life is full of things we can’t anticipate,” he replied kindly. 

You followed him to a part of the school you hadn’t been before. Luckily you've had the fortune of not having to visit Shoko for healing purposes until now. In a way it was embarrassing as you were sure Nanami had been here for much for dire wounds, battle wounds really from his missions since he was a grade 1 sorcerer. But Nanami didn’t judge, he wasn’t the type to goad or say hurtful things. 

After what felt like forever due to the burning sensation in your hand, you two at last arrived in a wing of the school that seemed more like a hospital with its medical items laid out and its fluorescent light. A figure with long brown hair was slumped in a swivel chair in front of a computer.

“Shoko?” Nanami asked, shaking her shoulder slightly so she’d wake up.

Her eyes fluttered open and as if she could sense it she seemed to know there was a problem.

“What is it? Who needs to be healed?” She asked, but she answered her question upon looking at your tear stained face. 

She stood up and took your hand. Her gaze shifted between you and Nanami, clearly questioning.

“The kids left the hot kettle out and she got burnt,” he explained.

“Ahh,” she said in understanding. 

Your face flushed even more. It was so embarrassing. But Shoko was focused on healing you now and her mind had gone into the place only she and few others knew.

You watched as she worked her magic. You had heard others speak about it in awe but having never witnessed it yourself, it was amazing to see. Your palm and fingers once jaded red were now returned to their baby soft pink, they seemed even more soft than before as if you had just been reborn. Most importantly, there was no pain. Matter of fact if it wasn’t for your current location and Nanami at your side, you would have almost thought you dreamt the whole thing.

“Better?” Shoko asked, her eyes were dim and jaded and you remembered thinking how she always looked sad. 

It had always been strange to you how someone with an ability capable of performing miracles could be so sad but you chalked it up to the fact that healing wounds lost its charm when it was those close to you on the brink of life and death.

“Thank you,” you said as she slumped back into her previous position.

Nanami filled her in on the meeting’s cancellation as she took out a cigarette and lit it. 

The first time you had met Satoru Gojo was in one of the faculty meetings that he had hosted at his place. It was your first faculty meeting in fact, and it had been hosted on your third week at the job.

By then you had met all the others, besides him. 

You had been filled in on the details about him from students to faculty alike and had gathered a mosaic of him from their words: the strongest, childish, intelligent, 

Those were all adjectives that had been used to describe him.

However, nothing had prepared you for when he had asked for you to stay behind once the meeting had been dismissed and everyone else had left.

“You’re new. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said to you then outstretched his big hand for you to shake.

“I don’t really think you need an introduction. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said, noticing how he still held your hand in his own despite the shake being far from over.

“And what is it you’ve heard?” He asked in a teasing fashion, his lips curled up at the ends.

“Only that you're the strongest sorcerer, Nanami said you’re childish, the students like you a lot,” you paused.

“What is it?” He probed. 

“I’ve been told you have these eyes that are so vividly blue,” you said, not being able to hide your curiosity.

He chuckled in understanding.

“You want to see them? You can take my blindfold off,” he said. 

At last he released your hand so you were able to do so. You had to stand on your tippy toes and he had bent down to help you as you flipped up the blindfold so it was resting on his forehead. 

You had gasped at the mesmerizing blue that was like no other.

“Like them?” he teased. 

His words had sent a jolt of heat in somewhere you were sure was not appropriate. 

“They are beautiful,” you had found yourself whispering. 

After that encounter, you and Gojo had experienced various flirtatious exchanges. The two of you had only gotten physical once and it had been unexpected. 

You had been cleaning up your classroom, the students having long been dismissed when he had come in.

“Still here?” He teased. 

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said offhandedly ignoring how his presence next to you, heat radiating off his body was making you nervous. You finished wiping off the chalk board and looked up at him. 

“Lonely at home?” he continued to tease. 

“No,” you said a little too defensively before adding, “I just like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.” 

It was true, you had shared it with him in one of your lounge room talks where he had asked you about your background. You were a foreigner that had cursed energy and had taught at a non sorcery university in your home country. Having heard of Jujutsu High and being introduced to Principal Yaga through a mutual connection, the principal had then invited you to come teach at Jujutsu High. 

“That’s right, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at a strand of your hair.

“Why are you still here anyways?” you asked, turning the question back on him. 

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he answered honestly.

“Me?” you asked dumbfounded. 

He chuckled, stepping forward.

“How long are we gonna do this dance, princess?” he asked, calling you the nickname he had coined for you. 

“What dance?” you asked.

But you knew, of course you knew. All those flirty exchanges, light touches, teasing, and lounge room talks weren’t for anything. 

“That we don’t want each other,” he said simply. 

“And who says I want you?” you asked defensive again. Okay maybe you did want him, but he didn’t have to be so arrogant about it. 

“Hmm. Well what was it you said about my eyes again? ‘They are so beautiful.’ “

You flushed in anger and embarrassment now and tried to push past him, but he held onto you effortlessly by your shoulders. You were pinned against the chalkboard.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your body instantly relaxed, you felt him smile at that. 

He was right of course, even if he had gone about it in the way he had, there was no denying the sexual tension and chemistry between the two of you. 

Giving yourself over to it now, you moaned as his lips moved to your neck, teething slightly at the skin. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groaned into your skin. 

Your hands went to his hair, fisting the soft white locks. 

Nothing else seemed to exist besides you and him. 

“Gojo,” you whined wrapping your legs around his waist and he seemed to know exactly what you needed as he hoisted you up easily and placed you on your desk, notebooks clattering on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he cursed as your long skirt spilled around your thighs revealing your silky skin and damp underwear. 

You bit your lip as his fingers found your clit. You felt like you were in heaven and his name had spilled from your lips over and over again like a prayer. 

Satoru Gojo…

Of course you had wanted him who wouldn’t? He was impossibly handsome, he had truly won the genetic  lottery in more ways than one, and he was so gifted with his fingers that were making you reach new heights even you hadn’t taken yourself to.  

That line of thinking created a problem brewing in your mind: Everyone wanted him.

So what made you different? You were the new girl on the block, and you didn’t know him all that well despite your talks with him. You didn’t know him all that long. Maybe you had been overthinking, but it was that thinking that had taken you out of the mood.

“Gojo stop,” you choked out. 

His movements stilled, hearing the tone in your voice.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. 

You couldn’t exactly tell him your worries as you didn’t want to make things awkward. Besides what were you supposed to say? ‘I’m worried I’m just another one of your quick hook ups?’ You didn’t want to be clingy or weird especially if he just saw this as a casual encounter.

“No, no, everything is fine. I just should be going now it’s getting late,” you rambled straightening yourself up and standing up from the desk. 

You had been grateful you hadn’t seen his eyes as you were sure they were confused.

“Well can I  walk you to your car?” he offered. 

“No, that’s not necessary but thank you for your concern,” you had stated. 

Then you had rushed off. 

Your relationship with Gojo has been rocky ever since. You actively avoided him and he started doing the same. In a way you wondered if you had bruised his ego since he had never been used to rejection. 

Having assured Nanami you would be fine, you had driven yourself home. There was no reason for you to stay on campus given the meeting’s cancellation and the snow day. Moreover, you weren’t up to sticking around because of the morning’s embarrassing events. 

You made your way into your small apartment, and kicked your shoes off.’

When you were about to settle down on your couch and watch some television, the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was Nanami doing a possible checkup on Principal Yaga’s orders? 

You opened the door and found the person you were actively avoiding: Satoru Gojo.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your tote bag that you had left behind in the lounge room. 

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, still stunned. You stood there frozen for too long until he cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of cold out here, you know snow day and all,” he said, shivering with emphasis.

Even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, you invited him in. 

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?” you asked, closing the door behind him and watching as he looked around your living room. 

“No, I’m good. I can make you those noodles you wanted earlier though,” he offered. 

The noodles? Oh yes, the ramen pack. You had forgotten about them. It was endearing in a way that he had even remembered them. 

Before you could answer, he was picking the plastic bowl out of your purse and heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s not really necessary..” you began to protest as you followed him but he cut you off.

“Have you eaten today?”

Your stomach betrayed you, giving a rumble by way of answer. 

He chuckled before saying, “thought so.” You watched as he filled one of the pots with water before placing it on your stove and turning it on. The kettle would have been much more straightforward but given the morning’s events you figured he didn’t want to use it. Once the water heated up enough, it didn’t take too long on account of you having a gas stove, he transferred the dry noodles from their plastic bowl container to the pot.

Watching him in this domestic setting did something to you. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, his face was calm and focused. 

“Watching me?” he teased.

Your face blushed scarlet. 

“You know it’s not really fair that you wear that blindfold around,” you said. After all, it gave him the advantage of being able to catch you gawking at him. You suspected this wasn’t the first time he had noticed. 

“Would you like me to take it off?” He asked innocently. 

Remembering your only other exchange with him that involved his unsheathed eyes, you opted against shaking your head then adding a firm “no” in case his eyes weren’t on you for once. 

All the same, you continued to stand there leaning alongside the counter watching him as he had now taken to stirring the boiling noodles with a fork. After a few minutes of this, he transferred the now ready noodles into one of your bowls. 

“Do you prefer your noodles with broth or drained?” He asked. 

“Drained,” you replied, 

“Me too. I find that too much liquid laps up the flavor,” he said, going to drain it now in your sink. He then added the flavor, stirring it. When it was at last ready, he set it on your kitchen island, beckoning you to come sit. 

Hunger winning out, you did as he had instructed, not even bothering to care that he sat in the seat next to you. 

The noodles were good and just warm enough for you to enjoy and satisfy your hunger. You eagerly stuffed your face forgetting for a moment the man at your side. 

It was only when you finished eating that he at last spoke up.

“I wanna talk to you about what happened between us,” he said. 

Of course you had expected this, but it didn’t make it anymore easy to breach this topic. 

“What is there to talk about?” you asked, deciding to play dumb. 

“The kiss we shared,” he said, turning his body towards you.

He knew damn well it had been more than a simple kiss. If you hadn’t put the brakes on when you had maybe the two of you would have gone all the way in the classroom! 

“I don’t see why we have to discuss it. We kissed, so what? We can move on from it,” you said. 

“But that’s the thing. I can’t move on. I think about it all the time,” he said. There was a unique yearning in his voice, a tone you had never heard from before. At last you turned to face him as well and though his eyes were still hidden there was an expression of sadness on his face. 

“Well I’m sure you kiss people all the time,” you said. In an effort to put some space between the two of you, you stood up and walked away from the kitchen back into the living room, hoping he’d follow so you could direct him to the door. 

“That’s it then? You think I just kiss anyone?” he asked, following you as you had anticipated. His long legs allowed him to catch up to you quickly and he caught your wrist, swiveling you around to face him. “Don’t ignore me. You feel something for me too, I know it.” 

His proximity to you had your breath hitching, it had been a while since you had been this close. 

“Gojo-“ you began to protest.

“Satoru,” he corrected, wanting things to be less formal. 

“Maybe you should get going,” you said but your voice wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped. 

“You’d really throw me out in the snow like that?” he teased. 

“You’d be fine,” you retorted. 

By now your resistance was waning, despite your better judgment, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his warm body was threatening your resolve. 

He seemed to know that all too well. 

“Let me kiss you again. I’ve missed your lips,” he whispered. 

Your knees buckled a little. 

He bent down, lips brushing against your jawline, the scent of him intoxicating.

It was futile, you wanted him desperately and he knew that. So when you didn’t push him away his lips lingered merely inches from yours, his minty breath in your face, leaving the option to you. 

Giving into your urges, you had only to bend forward, and once you did his lips were on yours. Like before, the passion between the two of you was intense, even more so given the built up frustration from how you had avoided him then. 

His tongue soon found yours and your legs hoisted yourself around his waist. 

“Satoru.. bedroom,” you whimpered. 

He understood, still holding you as you guided him to your bedroom. 

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the plushies you had on your bed despite being a grown woman, as he plopped you down alongside them.

“Lay back,” he commanded. 

You did, but watched as he got on his knees in front of you. 

“Satoru, what are you doing?” you asked, still breathless from the kisses you had exchanged. 

He took his time answering you, a sly grin on his face as his hand caressed your pantyhose clothed thighs that were exposed as your skirt fell in ripples around your waist. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good. The way I wanted to before you left that day,” he said. His hands went up to the top of your waist band, pulling your pantyhose down effortlessly. He gasped at his newfound discovery. “No panties? You really are so shameless.” 

Your face was red.

“I- there was a line with my skirt and the tights are thick,” you stammered, feeling the need to defend your choice of wear. 

“I like it. How often do you go commando under these long skirts of yours?” he probed, fully removing your tights and leaving your legs and sex naked underneath the layers of your skirt. 

“Only when I wear the tights underneath,” you replied.

His hand cupped your heated sex, your arousal leaking into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right you did have some panties on in the classroom that day,” he said recalling. His fingers parted your wet folds. “You think one of these days you could just go completely commando for me? Nothing underneath? Not even your pretty little tights?” 

By this point you kept feeling pangs of pain and your clit throbbing, there was no denying the effect he had on you. 

“Somehow I don’t think that would be appropriate for the classroom,” you stated. 

This only seemed to encourage him more. 

“It’d be fun though. Just think about it,” his hand released your sex. He seemed to have something devious in mind. He came closer to you whispering in your ear. “You and me. The fun we could have. The quickies we could partake in between classes.” 

You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t appealing to you and vivid images of you hoisted against a desk and him shooting his load into you were intruding your mind.

“Satoru…” your voice had an edge to it. One that still remembered why you had put the brakes in between the two of you in the first place. 

He seemed to understand.

“Oh that’s right. You think I do this with just anyone. That I’m something of a player huh?” He asked, and you were surprised to hear offense in his voice. 

“I just don’t know you all that well yet,” you stammered apologetically. 

You felt that it was an almost stupid thing to say given the state the two of you were in. 

“Do you want to know me?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you replied. 

“Good, because I want to know you too,” he said. He sunk back down to his previous position between your legs. He pulled his blindfold down, letting it rest at his neck so his crystal-like eyes were visible. “And right now, I want to know what makes you tick.” 

When Principal Yaga had first told him there would be a new professor from overseas joining them, it hadn’t mattered to him greatly. 

Another teacher? Well that was good. A foreigner? Interesting. 

However, it hadn’t been something he had given much thought to.

So when he first met you at the faulty meeting he had hosted in his apartment, he had been surprised to find out how beautiful you were. You were also young, a little bit younger than him but still so young for someone so well accomplished (yes after your flirtatious encounter where you called his eyes beautiful he had looked you up). 

He must confess, he read your academic articles all thirty of them and he was always finding an excuse to speak to you in the lounge room. 

At last when he hadn’t been able to fight the longing for you anymore, he had waited until after hours, knowing you’d still be on campus. 

“Still here?” He had taunted. 

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said.

That was interesting to him. Surely a woman like you had someone waiting for her? It was something he had pathetically tried to find the answer to online but had fallen short given your profiles being professional in nature.

Desperate for the answer he continued to tease.

“Lonely at home?” 

God, he could shoot himself in the foot for that one! How incredibly cringe. He was used to getting away with it on account of his good looks, but you were different than most. You didn’t seem to fall easily to his charm. In a way it was humanizing, you didn’t let the veil of his looks and his power get in the way of seeing him for what he was. 

“No. I like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.” 

As suspected, you didn’t find his comment charming, answering rather defensively. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, tugging a strand of your hair and considering it a good sign when you didn’t shoo him away. 

“What are you still doing here anyways?” You asked him. 

His heart was racing from how your eyes looked up at him and he was (not for the first time) grateful that his blindfold kept him shielded for surely he looked like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he said.

“Me?” 

The way you asked so dumbfounded made his heart ache for you more. 

Yes you, he wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you just how completely unaware you were of the effect you can have. 

Even more so when you allowed him to kiss you, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Your body had felt soft on him, it was everything he had dreamed about, everything he had allowed himself to feel despite his fragile heart being ever so cautious.

“Gojo stop,” you had said suddenly, and to his horror.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. 

You had only made excuses and ran off leaving his fragile heart to shatter into a million pieces. 

“Fuck, Satoru- you’re so good at this,” you moaned, your back arching as you fell back against the mattress. 

He tongued at your folds, lapping at your clit and your arousal as if he was dehydrated and needed it in order to live. 

His fingers spread you open for him, flashing him with your inner pink, the sight nearly sending him into a frenzy. 

Your hands went to his white hair, gripping the locks and using them as an anchor as his tongue continued to pleasure you. 

Your moans were just as pretty as he had imagined and between that and the taste of you, he was determined to make you orgasm hard. 

It didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot. You were starting to realize that of his mouth had more uses than just teasing and your toes curled. 

“This is where you’re weak, huh?” he said, sensing it from how your grip on his fingers tightened. You felt him curl his fingers up inside of you, continuing to pleasure that new unlocked spot as he leaned forward tongue still sliding down your sensitive clit. 

“Mm- Satoru I’m close,” you warned.

“I know, I know,” he cooed against your skin. 

Continuing that pace and motions, you felt it arising now, the tell tell signs of orgasm and the adrenaline feeling as if you were falling off a cliff. “That’s it, baby, let it go.” 

And you did, coming down from your high as your fluid flooded his tongue. 

You panted and watched as he lapped you clean, relishing the taste. Then, like before, a devious look rose to his crystal eyes. He came up to you, hovering gently above you, hands on the bed to steady himself.

“You should really taste yourself,” he said. Before giving you time to register what he meant, he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. The taste on his lips was sweet yet metallic and it was yours. It was so lewd, the way you enjoyed it, but again the fire of desire was burning for him so you simply indulged in the passionate makeout.

“Want help with that?” you asked, eyes pointed at the bulge in his pants as the kiss broke apart, salvia still connecting the two of you faintly. 

You swore you saw him blush, but having a new found confidence, you didn’t wait for him to answer, fingers shakily undoing his pants. 

“So eager,” he teased, stepping back to fully shrug the pants and his boxers off. His shirt followed after.

His cock was big, bigger than any you had been with, and the head was just as pink as his lips. A forming bud of precum was visible at the tip.”Like what you see?” 

“Very much so,” you admitted. You were ready for him to sink into you, but an expression of concern overtook his face. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he explained, “I know you think I do this a lot but I don't, I don’t just have them on me.” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You weren’t exactly on any birth control right now since it had been a while since you were sexually active yourself, but you didn’t want to turn him down. Plus you were aware of where you were in your cycle so the chances of pregnancy would be slim.

“It’s fine, but I’m gonna need a morning after pill just in case,” you stated. 

He seemed to perk up.

“Does that mean I can spend the night?” He asked. It never ceases to amaze you how someone of his stature could still have such a childlike demeanor. 

Oh what harm could it do? You had already made it this far with him.

“Yes,” you conceded. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still technically a coworker and you intrusively wondered how the students would react if they knew the two of you were engaging in such activities. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asked. 

“Nothing I just, we’re still colleagues,” you said. 

He smiled and lined himself up with you, the tip of his cock fettering your entrance.

“And? Colleagues can’t blow a little steam off together every now and then?” 

You gasped feeling him against your slickness, not in yet but only just, still lingering at your entrance.

“That’s not really helping your case of not doing these things with just anyone,” you said. 

He laughed.

“I can assure you before you I had no need or desire to fuck a colleague,” he said. 

Then at last, he began to sink into you. At first only the delicate pink tip, then an inch, then two more, until the full length was bottomed out inside of you. 

“Oh, you feel so full,” you whispered more as an exclamation to yourself but he heard all the same. 

For him, it has always been a fantasy to fuck you in your work clothing, as he had told you before your long skirts offered the illusion of quick access whenever at his disposal. 

He began to thrust lightly, allowing himself to relish all your warm walls. 

“So sexy,” he praised as his pace began to quicken. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you could feel his pulse beating away inside of you. 

It felt natural being under him like this, almost right as if you were meant to be underneath him like this taking every inch of his impressive rod. 

Although you were no stranger to sex at your age, his thrusting made you feel something you never had before. 

“Fuck me back, you’re a big girl aren’t you?” he teased, his mind probably following your line of thinking.His words emboldened you, and your vaginal grip on his cock tightened, and you began to thrust your hips up to meet his pace. 

You craned your neck a little to watch as his cock went in and out.

He caught you looking. 

“So you like to watch, huh?” his voice was heated. God, he was finding out so much about you. You were just as dirty as him, even if you were usually so well composed. 

“Satoru!” you yelped as he easily lifted you up, bodies still connected and dragged you to the restroom. 

“Oh this is perfect,” he whispered. 

Your bathroom had a large full length mirror and another large mirror above the sinks. Here, no matter where you’d look, you’d be able to see him fucking you. 

“Satoru, can I take my clothes off?” you asked, horrified at the idea of your work clothes getting soiled. 

“I have no objection to that,” he said. He placed you against the countertop, and undid your blouse removing it and your bra. 

Then came your skirt. 

Regrettably, for this he had to slide out of you, but it only took a moment. 

“Face the mirror I want you to be able to watch,” he said.

You did, gripping the counter as he slid into you from the back.

This all felt so surreal. 

Had it only been just this morning that you had burnt yourself? You had still been avoiding him then, now he had you bent over in your own bathroom as he thrusted in and out of your vagina raw from behind. 

You supposed this was what fucking a colleague entailed, it was much more chaotic than in the movies. 

Your eyes caught sight of his face, red and sweaty, eyes closed and turning your head to your side, you saw his length going in and out of you from the reflection in the full length mirror. 

His fingers kneaded the flesh of your ass, and you threw your ass back against him, cheeks enveloping his cock.

“Fuck,” he cursed. 

Your shared moans echoed in the bathroom’s acoustics and it only set him off more. His pace quickened and his hands reached around to cup your breasts, squeezing the sensitive nipples. 

You turned your head and your lips found his, all the while his thrusting and you grinding your ass back against him were bringing you both closer to reaching your peak.

“Satoru-“ you warned, but he seemed to understand.

“I know, I know. I’m cumming too,” he panted. 

Breathing heavily, you felt him shoot his load into you as you came on him, fluids dripping to the floor. 

He gave a shaky laugh.

“Erm- I can clean this up. Don’t worry about it. You should go lay down,” he said after using your hand towel to clean in between your legs. 

Mumbling in agreement, you went back to your room. 

Heart beating fast you tried to reconcile with the fact that you just had sex with a colleague and moreover you had agreed for him to stay the night. It wasn’t that you regretted it, Gojo was many things but a bad lay wasn’t one of them. 

You opened your drawer and quickly changed into a matching lounge set. You heard Gojo humming and moving around in the bathroom as he cleaned up. When he came out, he held your clothes in his hands, still naked himself. He placed your clothes on your bed before going to pick his own up and putting them back on, laughing slightly.

“What’s funny?” you asked. 

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His lower half was covered once again as his boxers and pants came back on. 

“What about me?” You pressed. 

“You’d think after what we just did you wouldn’t be so shy still. It’s cute,” he said, pulling his top on and adjusting it so his v-line was no longer visible. He left his shoes off and when you raised your brows he said “remember I’m staying the night?” 

Of course you remembered. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, shrugging. 

He let out a belly laugh. 

“Why do you keep laughing at me?” you asked, growing frustrated. 

His face softened as he smiled at you fondly. 

“It’s just I don’t think I’ve met someone who is worse at expressing their feelings than me, it’s comforting.” 

Well, he was right in that assessment so you couldn’t help as your lips twitched upwards in a smile of your own. 

If today was going to be his only chance to make a good impression of you, he was going to use it to his full advantage. 

“You know what I always loved to do during snow days? Build a fort and watch movies with hot chocolate.” 

Luckily, you had taken his suggestion well and so he had taken it upon himself to build said fort by maneuvering your furniture and bringing your blankets and pillows over to the living room in front of the tv. 

He was aware of your eyes watching him as he did so. 

“What?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. 

“You’re just different than I expected,” you said genuinely, your voice free of judgment. 

He nodded in understanding, he was used to people having the wrong impression about him. His looks, his talents, which were given to him at birth, all of these were things that shaped how people viewed him. He couldn’t fault you for having thought the same, but it did relieve him that you seemed to be gaining a more comprehensive perspective of him now. 

“I’m gonna make us hot chocolate, you’re still banned from using the kettle after this morning,” he said, making his way to the kitchen and looking through your cupboards. He found the hot chocolate packets and went through the motions of heating up the water again just as he had done for the ramen earlier. 

“Speaking of this morning, you should really apologize to the kids. You were kind of stern with them,” you said, appearing at his side and leaning  against the fridge. 

You looked so beautiful to him in the fluorescent lighting, your lips still puffy from the kisses you had exchanged and your hair tousled. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it. He could see himself growing old with you and sharing domestic moments such as this. Satoru you poor romantic thing, he thought to himself. He had quite a habit of being a yearner, of letting his feelings consume him. 

It was his biggest flaw.

“Yes, maybe I should. Tomorrow I’ll make sure to do so,” he said. 

He finished preparing the hot chocolate and carrying both mugs he said: “now would you like to choose the first movie?” 

Watching movies with Gojo was peaceful. You each took turns choosing a movie. He preferred comedies and animated movies while you chose cult classics. 

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable with him. His commentary every now and then throughout the movies and the way he laid close to you in the fort, with only your knees brushing past each other occasionally, made you feel like he was trying to put you at ease.

Despite the two of you having sex earlier, he didn’t make any moves to touch you again, and you felt that it was intentional with him leaving the choice up to you. 

After the last movie finished, credits rolling, he turned down the volume before facing you.

“So what’s with you and Nanami?” he asked. 

You could tell from his expression he was trying to seem nonchalant, but his eyes that had remained unblindfolded betrayed him, there was worry in his pretty blues. 

“Nanami? Nothing. He’s just a colleague and I enjoy working with him. Why?” you asked. 

“I just wondered because you chose him to accompany you to see Shoko over me,” he said. There was a long pause before he added, “you know we’re colleagues too.” 

Your face flushed as you understood. 

“I don’t like Nanami like that,” you mumbled, no longer able to meet his eyes. Luckily, he didn’t press you more, your answer being sufficient enough for him. 

You felt him shift besides you until he was no longer on his back but facing towards you. Having had his blindfold still off you were able to notice more of his emotions he usually kept hidden. Now there was a hint of sadness in them, the same sadness you had seen on….

“Satoru, why does Shoko always look sad?” You asked. 

He gave you a wry smile. 

“It’s a long story and I’m sure only Shoko can speak for herself, but I can tell you about it as best as I can.” 

So he did.

He told you the story of three young gifted sorcerers and their ‘blue spring,’ as he had coined the last time the three ever felt a sense of normalcy. The story involved himself, Shoko, and someone named Geto, but mainly it orbited around him and Geto. Gojo told you of the mission they had failed at, to keep a young girl named Riko alive since she was the Star Plasma Vessel. You could tell by how he spoke of it that he felt largely responsible, especially since he hadn’t rested as much as he should have. 

“But that wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have possibly known about Toji and he was strategic so you’d never see him coming,” you said. 

“Maybe but it’s my fault for not noticing after how Geto changed. It affected him more than me in a way because of his ability to absorb curses. All that negative energy and the way it made him feel especially after he was jaded by the fact that non sorcerers couldn’t care less about sorcerers who protect them.”

Feeling that this was the first time he had opened up about this, you turned your body to face him as well and took his hand in your own squeezing it for support. 

“Maybe you didn’t notice it because he kept it to himself? You can’t fault yourself for that,” you said.

“Or maybe he didn’t tell me because of who I am, who I was born into being and my abilities. You know I’ve never known what it’s like to feel weak to feel truly powerless? Sometimes I don’t even feel human.” 

You felt a twinge of guilt for having thought he was some sort of womanizer, after what he had told you, that seemed so far out from the truth. It was clear he wore his heart on his sleeve and that it was his nature but he was guarded, even felt isolated because of the magnitude of his strength.

“I don’t think that’s fully true. Maybe in terms of power and your cursed energy but what you described: regret, guilt, and loneliness. All those things are very human,” you said. He smiled at you, and it reached his eyes so you figured your words had been of some comfort to him. 

“In a way Shoko probably feels more regret than I do, though I can’t be certain,” he explained to address your original question. 

“How so?” you asked. 

“Shoko’s ability is to heal. Curses destroy, people get hurt, and she heals. It is the same over and over and after a while you can start to wonder if there’s a point, if there is an end to the cycle.”

“Just like Geto did,” you finished for him, making the connection. 

He nodded. 

You laid there in silence for a while, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing. 

“Why me?” you asked, finally asking the question that has been the source of your previous resistance to him. 

“You’re beautiful, I thought so the moment I saw you. In truth it was after reading your published articles that I wanted to know you more. I felt like you’d understand me. You know your article analyzing Shakespeare's King Henry?” 

You nodded. How could you forget? It had been a pain to publish through all the hurdles of academia. 

“There was one line from the play you wrote about and it really stuck with me,” he said. He waited as if he wanted you to guess which line it was, and instinctively you knew.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

You don’t remember falling asleep or making it to your bed but when you wake up with the warmth of the sunlight kissing your face you immediately sit up as you remember the previous day's events. Your blankets having been used for the fort were draped back around you. 

A glance at your bedside tells you that Gojo had been to the store already, the morning after pill box sitting there waiting for you to take with a glass of water next to it. You go through the motions of taking it and then follow the scent of bacon and eggs to your kitchen. 

Gojo is there, cooking breakfast and his blindfold is back on. 

“Good morning,” he says, seeing you linger at the entrance. 

“Satoru, what time is it? It’s so bright out,” you asked, going to sit at the kitchen island. 

“A little past noon. Shhh don’t worry. Classes are canceled for today again so I turned your alarm off,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of you alongside a cup of orange juice.

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” you said, biting into the fat of the bacon. 

He laughed.

“Yeah you went out like a light. I think it’s my fault we spent the whole day watching movies and I trauma dumped on you,” he said. 

He sat down next to you with his own plate of food and orange juice. 

At his words, you briefly remember strong arms carrying you to bed, lingering lips on your forehead and a gentle kiss on your skin. 

“Did you sleep here last night?” you asked him remembering how he had wanted to spend the night with you.

“I did. I slept on the couch. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained. You nodded, yet a part of you was worried. Would you two go back to formalities? After everything the two of you had done and shared yesterday you couldn’t phantom that possibility. Fortunately he felt the same way. 

“Listen, the kids told me they are gonna have another snowball fight today before all the snow melts up. They asked me if I wanna join and I want you to come with me,” he said. 

You finished eating and looked at him. 

“I’d like that,” you replied. 

His hand reached for yours and he interlocked the fingers with you. 

“I want to be your man, if you’ll have me. I know we’re still getting to know each other but I can see myself spending forever with you,” he said, his cheeks were rosy.

“I want to be with you too. Forever is a long time,” you said. 

“I know so let’s start with now and we’ll lead our way into forever,” he said. 

When he leaned forward to kiss you, you didn’t deny him, savoring the taste of him and bacon grease. 

[cybrsan]

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

[kp-alice]

Red Light, No Entry | Hyung line

Summary: sub!Ateez scenarios about you/them stopping a scene

Word count: 7 394

Warnings: written at the beginning of each member's scenario, other than that just general awkwardness and misunderstandings

A/N: This post is the sixth and last part of my Kinktober 2024 series! You can find the masterlist for it here.

A/N 2: Since the fic got quite long, this is only the first half - you can expect the maknae line version soon!

Hongjoong (cnc, hongjoong pretends to be in distress, pegging, a few tears)

The moment Hongjoong asked you to try consensual non-consent, you were both wary and excited. On one hand, you'd already dabbled in quite a few rougher sessions, all of which you'd come to enjoy a lot. Not to mention how he always made sure to reassure you the whole way through, proving it really was just a form of stress relief for him and he wasn't actually uncomfortable.

But now, most of that reassurance would be taken away. Hongjoong wanted to feel small and helpless, to not have any other choice but to take what you'd give him. He found it freeing, knowing he could abandon his leader persona for a moment and just trust you to make all the choices for him. And with the added pretense of not being on board, he could thrive in the almost dangerous dominance emanating from you, in the feeling of being so desired you couldn't help but pounce on him. And hey, worst-case scenario, he could always use his safeword, right? Not to mention the extensive preparations you both made for this scene, discussing any potential boundaries and turn-offs.

And yet, now that you were finally here, you couldn't help but feel massively underprepared anyway.

Hongjoong was on all fours, tightly gripping the pillow his face was buried in while you pounded him from behind. Despite said pillow, you could still hear his muffled protests, whines, and whimpers, growing more desperate by the minute.

You made sure to hold him firmly by the hips, playing your part in the play-pretend scenario of using him solely for your pleasure. Whenever he made another haphazard attempt to get away from you, you were right there to pull him back on your strap, pushing him into the mattress to make him stay.

At first, everything was fine. Intense, but doable. Every now and then, a sound or a jolt from your boyfriend would startle you a bit, but each time, you'd just try to remember the countless times you'd rehearsed and discussed this to remind yourself it was all fake.

However, as time went on, that certainty steadily chipped away.

The pained and desperate noises you were pushing out of Hongjoong started to sound a little too desperate, and the tremble setting into his limbs sure wasn't helping either. You kept trying to tell yourself he would use his safeword if he needed to, but what if he forgot? What if he was stubbornly pushing himself to enjoy what he'd suggested, or worse, because he was scared to let you down? What if he was simply too deep in subspace that he didn't know how to get out of it anymore?

"What's your color, babe?" You panted into his ear as you leaned down, getting a whimpered "Green!" in return.

And yet, you still weren't convinced. After all, how could you be when the more he pretended to struggle, the more you started to feel as if you were actually hurting him? Sure, your main focus was on securing Hongjoong's safety and comfort, but have you stopped to consider your own feelings as well?

"Oh god," Hongjoong sniffled out a few seconds after your check-in, voice watery from the way you were jostling him around. "It's too much Y/N, I really can't! Please, no more!"

Perhaps he was just trying to immerse himself back into the scene after your question, but the moment he lifted his head from the pillow to beg, revealing the tear-stained pillowcase, you knew you were done.

"Baby, red," your voice cut clear through the hot air.

"Wh-what?" Hongjoong stumbled out dumbly, looking back at you in confusion. He was met with your sorry frown, one of your hands sliding down to smooth circles across his lower back before carefully pulling out of him. He wanted to whine at the sudden emptiness, but something told him he probably shouldn't make this about himself right now.

Gingerly, you grabbed his waist and flipped him over, making sure he was lying comfortably. "I'm sorry hun, but I don't think I can push through this one. You know I don't mind roughing you up one bit, but when I don't have the usual reassurance you give me throughout sex, it makes me feel like I'm actually hurting you."

Hongjoong pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes growing wide at your words. "But love, I said beforehand that I'd only be pretending, I even told you I was green when you'd asked! You didn't hurt me in any way, I promise."

You sighed, though a small smile still made its way onto your lips. "I know, babe, but even then, your acting started to feel a little too real. I mean, look at you, you literally have tears in your eyes," you said as you wiped his damp cheeks. "And I know you sometimes tear up even during milder scenes, but there I'm always sure you're actually enjoying yourself."

Hongjoong pondered your words, looking to the side with a serious expression.

"I'm still completely fine with throwing you around and punishing you when you get bratty, and hey, maybe we can try again another time in a more relaxed, beginner-friendly way, but for now, I want to be 100% sure you're on board with everything I'm doing."

After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh, wordlessly nodding as he shuffled onto his side and beckoned you over with open arms.

You took him up on the offer in a heartbeat, wanting nothing more than to hold your precious boyfriend and ease any remaining guilt you felt. Trying your best to work around the awkward slotting of your harness against him, you let yourself be wrapped up in his embrace.

"It's okay, love, I understand," Hongjoong began, giving you a soft kiss on the top of your head. "I know it won't change your mind right now, but please believe me when I say I really did like this a lot. I always tell you right away when I get even a little uncomfortable, you know that."

You hummed in agreement at his words, tucking your cheek further into his chest as your finger traced the tattoo on his arm.

"That being said, we can absolutely stop for today if you're not feeling it anymore. I thought this might be something fun and new for us to try, but it's also something I can absolutely do without, trust me. As much as you care about my comfort, I care about yours."

"...so you wouldn't be opposed to this turning into some soft, sappy lovemaking instead?" You asked with a shy smile, looking up to meet his loving gaze.

With a giddy laugh, he shook his head before getting up to straddle your lap. Cupping your cheeks with his warm hands, he swooped down for a big, fat smooch.

"Never."

Seonghwa (doing stuff in public, plugs, seonghwa spirals for a second)

For the longest time now, Seonghwa had been wanting to do something in public. You were unsure at first, considering how private the two of you were about your sex life. He insisted, though, claiming this would be different since no one around you would actually know what was happening. And so, the two of you agreed to try.

A few days later, you were getting ready for an outing with his friends and their partners. Deciding that this was a good opportunity for your little adventure, Seonghwa came up to you with a small, vibrating plug you sometimes used on him. Resisting the urge to take him right then and there with the way he bent over for you so prettily, you helped him put the toy inside. You hadn't even turned it on yet, but your boyfriend was already buzzing with excitement by the time you left your apartment.

But as the two of you arrived at the bar for the night, that excitement turned to something different. A vague unease, of sorts.

You could tell Seonghwa was nervous as he sat down at the far end corner of the booth, quietly eyeing the place as he stuck close to you. Grabbing his thigh, you successfully got his attention again, though not without a small, surprised flinch.

"Are you still okay with doing this, hun?" You asked tentatively, giving him an inquisitive look. Seonghwa gave you a soft smile, resting his slightly clammy hand atop yours. "Of course, whenever you're ready."

Truth be told, Seonghwa wasn't as sure about this as he had claimed to be. In his head, the idea always sounded so hot, being claimed by you in such an intense way with people around. Not to mention the thrill of sharing such a dirty secret between you, making him feel giddy at the added layer of intimacy.

But now, as the plug pressed against him from the inside every time he shifted around, the arousal and excitement he was expecting never really came. Instead, as he watched his friends gather around and chat, he started to feel dirty, and not in a good way. Every time his gaze flicked to someone's face, he could feel a strange churn in his stomach, a mix of shame and guilt swirling around inside. Everyone else thought this was just a normal, fun hangout with friends, so why did he have to bring his own twisted desires into it and force it upon them? And what was worse, despite his adamantly disagreeing brain, he still couldn't help but get aroused, cock starting to strain in his slacks and making him feel that much dirtier.

He couldn't do this. The wish to indulge his perversion just wasn't worth disrespecting his friends like this. They all looked so happy and unassuming and to think he'd even do something like this to them- oh god, he was starting to spiral.

You, on the other hand, either didn't notice his awkwardness or pretended not to, too busy talking to San's partner next to you to pay too much attention to him. You didn't turn on the plug right away either, deciding to wait a bit to surprise him instead.

The entire time you were chatting away with the others, Seonghwa watched you in anxious silence, ogling the small remote you were holding under the table. Waiting. He was feverishly contemplating whether to stop you now, to end the scene before it could even properly begin, but with all the stress and anxiety coursing through him, he couldn't help but freeze instead. You looked like you were having so much fun, and he didn't want to interrupt that by complaining about the thing he himself had brought up.

Clenching his fists in his lap, he tried to will his slowly rising hard-on down, but to no avail. As humiliating as his situation was, his body was reacting anyway. Maybe the humiliation even helped in some twisted way, who knows. He wouldn't be surprised, given how much of a gross pervert he was already-

He was brought out of his frantic thoughts when he saw your hand twitch. The movement was almost unnoticeable, but given how closely he was staring at your hand already, dreading this exact situation, it woke him up in record time. While you were laughing along at something Yunho had just said, he watched in slow motion as your thumb inched towards the small "On" button. There was genuine fear in his chest now, feeling as though he could only watch and not intervene, too small to do anything.

Until you hovered directly over the button and Seonghwa's body seemingly moved on its own.

His hand snapped forward to grab your wrist, almost making you drop the remote in surprise. His grip was tight, though you could feel a slight tremor in it as he held onto you.

Turning to look at him, your teasing smile quickly fell as you finally noticed his wide, shaky eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Your words came out hushed so as to not alert anyone beside the two of you, and yet the calming effect it had on Seonghwa was immediate. Despite his hold on your wrist staying firm, his shoulders noticeably relaxed, allowing him to let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"I- I," Seonghwa gulped, eyes glazing over slightly as all the suppressed tension suddenly released from his body, "I'm scared."

Your own chest tightened at that, moving your free hand to rest over his as you gave him a worried pout. "Do you want to wait a bit longer or should we just stop altogether?"

There wasn't a moment of hesitation before your boyfriend chose the latter, relieved when you immediately agreed. Putting the remote away, you stood up and quickly excused the two of you, lying about needing fresh air due to a headache. In times like these, you really were a lifesaver.

After shuffling out of the booth together, with Seonghwa holding your bag in front of his crotch as inconspicuously as he could, you headed straight for the bathroom. You waited for him outside while he took care of the toy, letting him borrow your handbag so that he had somewhere to put it.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, and outside stepped a considerably red but much calmer-looking Seonghwa. He sheepishly handed you your bag back before digging around his coat pockets, only to fish out a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

"How dumb of me to think they'd have paper towels in there instead of hand dryers. Now my hands are gonna feel gross for the rest of the night," he huffed half upset, half to ease the slightly awkward tension between the two of you.

"Yeah, I'm afraid we can't do much about that, baby," you replied sympathetically. "But besides that, you good?"

His blush deepened at your question, lips pressing together nervously. "Ah, uh, yeah, everything's fine. I guess I just expected this to feel a lot more fun and a lot less disrespectful. I couldn't look anyone in the eyes I felt so bad." He let out a small chuckle at the end, but you could tell he was more disappointed than anything. Whether in himself or the situation altogether, you didn't know.

You hummed in understanding, drawing closer to him as you put your hand on his arm. "It's okay, love, you didn't mean to disrespect anyone. And it's not like they had any idea, anyway. They won't be hurt by this, I promise. The only thing that happened tonight was that we figured out another boundary to be mindful of in the future."

We. Oh, how he loved that you said that. It was a small choice of words, and yet, in this situation, it meant the world to him. This wasn't him fucking up and being a terrible person, you were in this together and it really wasn't that big of a deal. Well, it was a big enough deal to make him never want to do this again, but as for this one-time mess-up, it really wasn't worth beating himself up over it.

"So, you ready to head back?" You took a step forward, offering him your hand.

He smiled sheepishly, lowering his gaze to your outstretched hand before enveloping it in his own.

"Of course, whenever you're ready."

Yunho (pet play, cfnm, collars and leashes)

Considering everything else up until now, it only made sense for the two of you to try this.

No matter who Yunho talked to, sooner or later, his behavior would be compared to that of a dog, or, more accurately, a puppy. He really liked the comparison, especially whenever you made it - including in the bedroom. Not to mention how he tended to refer to himself as Puppy too whenever he happened to fall a little too deep into subspace.

"Mmh, Puppy's gonna- Puppy needs-", "Please keep going, Puppy can take it, Puppy wants to be good for you!"

And so, one evening after an hour of passionate lovemaking where Yunho had once again slipped a bit too deep, the topic of his beloved pet name came up once more. Sooner or later, the conversation turned to pet play, with both of you agreeing to try it out to see if it would suit you. The two of you discussed in great detail both what you were curious about and what you wanted to avoid, snuggling even closer together at the exciting plans for the future.

No specific date was set, both to keep Yunho on his toes and to make everything feel more spontaneous. Nervous yet hopeful, he had no choice but to wait for you to initiate.

By the time Thursday rolled around, Yunho had partially forgotten about your promise, both because he didn't want to pressure either of you and because he was so caught up with work that he was glad his mind got any rest at all these days. And even though the big project he'd been working on was finally finished today and he could rest for a few days, he was still so mentally spent he had no energy to celebrate anymore.

Which is exactly why you picked Thursday as the day, since you knew your boyfriend could really use some time off from all the working and thinking. Not to mention you both had Friday off, meaning you had all the time to take this at your own pace.

Yunho quietly shuffled into your shared apartment, turning around to take off his coat and shoes. Putting everything away, he sluggishly turned back to face the hallway, only to startle as you suddenly appeared before him.

"Hey there," you smiled. "Long day at work, huh?"

Yunho blinked away his shock for a moment but smiled nonetheless, nodding softly. "Yeah, I feel like I'm too tired to even speak at this point."

To his surprise, his response only made you smile wider.

"Good things puppies don't need to speak then, right?"

Oh.

Oh.

You could see the succession of emotions flicker in your lover's eyes - confusion, realization, shock, excitement, nervousness, lust.

"Wait, are we really-"

You shushed him with a finger against his lips, tutting softly. "What did I just say, hm? No speaking, Pup. Not unless it's your safeword or something absolutely necessary. Got it?"

After processing your words for a second, all Yunho could do was nod meekly, meeting your gaze with his unsure one.

Your finger on his lips trailed to his cheek as you gently cupped it, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. "Good boy. Now come on, let's get these off."

Yunho stayed still for you while you pulled his sweater over his head, fixing his hair with a small giggle as you let the garment fall to the ground. You'd worry about that later.

His pants soon followed, and so did his boxers. You helped him step out of the fabric pooling around his ankles before grabbing one of his legs. He leaned against your shoulders for support as you took off his sock, setting his leg back down before repeating the same process with the other.

Just like that, Yunho was left completely bare before your still fully clothed form. Something about that contrast made him shiver, made him feel so much smaller than you despite your actual size difference.

It only took a small push on his shoulder to get him to kneel on the floor, looking up at you with nothing but trust and devotion.

"Now, Puppy," you began, not missing the chill running down his spine at the pet name, "there's one more thing we gotta do before we can really begin. Do you know what that is?"

Yunho shook his head no, eyeing you curiously.

You walked around him to where your coats and jackets hung by the door. You picked up a jacket, and Yunho could immediately see something hiding in one of its pockets. He knew what it was even before you had the chance to pull it out.

A collar.

A collar and a leash, to be exact.

"Now, I didn't get you a custom one or anything since we're just trying this out," you explained as you crouched down in front of him, "but if we do end up enjoying this, I'd love to get my puppy one that's made just for him. Would you like that, hun?"

It would appear Yunho was especially slow with responses today, too busy slipping into a different type of daze with each of your words and actions. He was scared to nod his head again since you were putting the collar on him right now, so a small whine had to do. Hopefully, you got the message.

The silent tension as you fixed the collar around his neck was broken with a final click! as you attached the leash to the front, completing the look you'd decided on for tonight. Making sure the collar wasn't too tight, you stuck two fingers under it, surprised to feel Yunho's racing pulse as well. He sure knows how to put on a calm facade.

Standing up on your feet again, you ignored the popping of your knees and straightened up with a small huff. You could only hope Yunho's knees would be more durable than yours.

"Look at you, my pretty pup," you cooed, leaning down to ruffle his hair a bit. "You're too cute to stay out here by the door, don't you think? Come, you deserve a snack for being such a good boy."

And with that, you began walking, leash in hand.

...Only to stop after two steps, feeling said leash tugging your hand back.

You staggered a bit but quickly regained balance, turning around with a raised brow. "Come on Puppy, what did I just say? So much for calling you a good boy when you can't even follow your owner."

Despite your disappointed tone, you were more worried than anything. You looked your boyfriend up and down, looking for any signs of discomfort, but found none. Although his eyes looked a bit hesitant, the steadily growing sight between his legs hinted that was more from the unfamiliarity of the situation rather than actual unease.

Before you could prod him any further, Yunho gingerly leaned forward, placing both palms on the hallway floor. Slowly, shyly even, he began crawling after you.

You watched the muscles in his back move as he clumsily approached you, not even bothering to sit again as his head hung low. "There's my good boy. You're doing so well!" You praised him earnestly, hoping to ease any potential embarrassment he might be feeling. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, after all.

Tugging on his leash again, you finally got him to crawl with you into the kitchen, where you pulled out a chair from the dining table.

Yunho, as expected, stayed on the ground. Just like before, he stayed on all fours, solidifying your decision to get him some knee pads if you were ever going to do this again.

Grabbing a small bowl of frosted wheats you'd prepared in advance, you sat down in front of him.

"Sit."

The command was simple enough for Yunho to follow almost immediately, showing his slightly red knees.

Happy with his fast response, you ruffled his head encouragingly. "Good boy! Here you go."

His eyes flicked up at your words, not expecting to see your hand outstretched with a single piece of cereal in it. His arms twitched as he wanted to grab it himself but quickly stopped at the pointed look in your eyes. The blush on his face grew even deeper as he realized what you wanted from him, lips tightly pressing together in embarrassment.

Nevertheless, he obeyed.

Shuffling forward the slightest bit, Yunho's eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his mouth to the "treat". A moment later, you felt his lips touch your palm for just a split second before retreating again, the small square peeking out from between them.

You watched as he ate it, waiting to give him his next command.

"Down."

A small whine left Yunho at your order, along with a pout settling on his still-red face. He was quite literally giving you puppy eyes.

You just tutted at him in disapproval, gently tugging at his leash to remind him who was in charge.

"Only good boys get treats, Pup, come on. Down."

With his bottom lip still jutting out and his brows furrowed, he finally did as you said, lowering himself to rest his forearms against the cold kitchen tiles.

"There you go! Good boy," you praised him again, letting him sit back up before handing him another piece of cereal. He took it into his mouth with no hesitation this time, and you were pleased to see him getting used to his new role.

Until you got to your next command, that was.

As you watched Yunho swallow his second treat, you opened your mouth to give him the order you were looking forward to the most:

"Speak."

Like the flip of a switch, you could see all of the tension and hesitance return to his body at once. His hands fidgeted in his lap, eyes refusing to look anywhere but the floor.

"Puppy," you spoke in a warning tone, drawing a small whimper from the man before you. "Why are you being so difficult? You know what to do."

Taking a few shallow breaths, Yunho seemed to be steeling himself for something. You watched as he took another, longer breath, chest rising as he looked at you with determination - only to crumble again immediately.

"What is it, hun?" You asked gently, leaning down to pet his hair comfortingly. "Come on, you can do it. This is the last one and then we're gonna move on to something else, okay?"

You thought he'd agree, that this was just one of those moments of uncertainty where your boyfriend needed to be reassured before you could continue.

But, to your surprise, he shook his head.

Worry flooded your heart this time, making your chest tighten. The hand in his hair slipped down to his chin, gently tipping it up to make him look at you. But as he finally met your gaze again, you were met with an even more unsure set of puppy eyes than before.

"Oh honey, what's wrong? Is this too much?"

Hesitantly, Yunho nodded.

"I'm sorry, it's just-" he took a deep breath, curling in on himself slightly, "it's weird, I can't do it."

"What's weird?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I- I thought I'd like this- and some of it I do, really! The collar, the leash, the crawling around, the way you were talking to me, all of it was nice in itself, but when it's all combined like this and I can't even talk to you properly, it just..."

You waited for him to continue, but nothing. "'It just' what?" You softly prodded further, voice coming out in almost a whisper.

Yunho let out another conflicted sigh, pressing his cheek down against your thigh.

"It just feels too dehumanizing," he admitted at last. "And, like, I guess that's the intended effect, but, I don't know. I guess I still need to feel at least a little human even when you treat me like a dog, as confusing as that is. Less barking, more talking, so to speak."

You chuckled at his simplified explanation, making him smile as well.

"I mean, we're still going to need to discuss this later to make sure I know exactly what you mean and want," you began, "but I think I understand it well enough for now. And I'm sorry if I pushed you too far, you could have stopped me way sooner."

"It's okay," Yunho hummed. "We planned all of this together so I knew what to expect. I just needed a bit to decide if I liked it or not, and what exactly I didn't like about it."

You nodded at his explanation, silently petting his hair.

"Well," you spoke up again, making Yunho raise his head from your lap, "I think we should end it here, then - for today, at least. What do you want to do instead? Do you want to take this to the bedroom and do something more familiar, or do you want me to go get your clothes and just stop altogether?"

Yunho weighed his options for a minute, eyebrows furrowing together in concentration.

"Would you be upset if I said I wanted to stop completely?" He sheepishly asked, worried you would take it the wrong way. "Not because you did something bad or anything, I just feel a bit more soft than spicy at the moment."

To his relief, you just chuckled, leaning closer to remove his collar along with the leash. "Of course I won't be upset, Yuyu. Tonight is meant to be about you, to help you relax after all the work you've had to do lately. I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you wouldn't mind cuddling on the couch while we finish that box of cereal on the table?"

"I'd love that."

Yeosang - (mirror sex, body insecurities)

You were lying under the covers, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling while you waited for your boyfriend to get ready for bed. You had no problem staying up for him since he was usually rather quick. This time, however, you were beginning to grow impatient, seeing you'd already been waiting almost double the normal time.

Ten more minutes stretched on, steadily adding to your irritation. You'd already called out to Yeosang once to hurry up, only getting a startled "Y-yeah! Just give me a minute!" in return.

Even after said minute, though, your boyfriend seemed nowhere near done. The shower wasn't even running anymore, having been turned off a good while ago. Just what was he doing in there?

Having had enough, you got up with a huff, stomping over to the door again. As expected, it was unlocked. Yeosang didn't really bother with locking it since you never came in unless it was an emergency.

"Yeo, I'm going in, this is getting ridiculous," you announced as you began opening the door. It had been a while since he'd finished showering anyway, so you shouldn't walk in on anything too crazy.

It would appear that your presence was still rather unwelcome, though, as Yeosang squeaked out a jumbled mess of stuttered protests at the door creaking open. And yet, he made no real effort to keep you out, likely too surprised to react in time.

Your brows furrowed as you took in the sight of him, standing before the mirror in nothing but his boxers and arms shielding his chest. "What are you doing?"

Yeosang froze at your question, frantically searching for an answer. "I- I, uh, I was just... looking?"

"At what? Yourself?"

When he sheepishly nodded, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Hun, it's been like fifteen minutes since the shower's turned off. Don't tell me you've been standing here this whole time."

His silence was enough of a response.

"Yeo," you sighed, closing the door behind you before walking over to where he stood.

He stayed quiet as you appeared next to him in the mirror's reflection, avoiding both your and his eyes. Soft arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

"You should get dressed, love," you murmured against his shoulder before giving it a small kiss. "It's too cold in here."

Once again, he nodded wordlessly, looking around for his pajama shirt, only to find you already offering it to him. You helped him put it on, and he had to admit, the shirt did make him a lot more comfortable for a multitude of reasons.

"So what were you doing in here, hm?" You asked again, and Yeosang inwardly sighed. He should have known you wouldn't give up so easily. "You said you were looking at yourself, but why? What is there to examine so thoroughly?"

You tried to speak lightly, not wanting the atmosphere to get too serious and make Yeosang feel too exposed. Or not more than he'd already been, rather.

"I, um," he began, unsure of how to put all the bad thoughts raging in his head into words, "I don't know. I just feel like I've gotten worse, somehow? Like the reflection in front of me isn't exactly what I remember it to be."

Ah. Now you understood.

"Honey..." you called out to him softly, opening your arms to invite Yeosang into your embrace.

This wasn't exactly a new state for Yeosang, as you'd found him in similar headspaces in the past. Ones where despite his incredible looks and physique, he couldn't quite see them for himself anymore, feeling a vague sense of deterioration instead.

You'd do your best to console him, of course, and with enough patience and effort, it always worked, nurturing your boyfriend back into his happy, confident mindset. And so, you didn't let his defeated words deter you, knowing you'd get him right back on his feet again in no time.

You could feel some of the tension release from his shoulders as he melted into you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers brushed through his soft hair. Your other hand slowly slid up his shirt, giving him ample time to stop you just in case, but he let you keep going. You came to a stop at his shoulder blades, feeling around the expanse of his back before giving him light scratches. The touch made him shudder in your hold, sighing contently into your skin and making you smile in return.

"I know you probably won't believe me right now," you began in a hushed voice, "which is already crazy to me because you know that I'd never, ever lie to you about something like this," Yeosang nodded into the crook of your neck, signaling to you that he was listening, "but please believe me when I tell you that nothing's different about you. You are, were, and will always be my handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking piece of art of a boyfriend."

Yeosang shifted a bit in your hold, hands coming down to tightly clutch at your shirt.

"I'd love to list all of the things I love about you, but I'm afraid we'd be stuck in this bathroom for the next few days," you joked, earning a small huff from him. "So let me just name a few for now, hm? Let you see yourself a bit through my eyes instead of yours."

After a beat of silence, you could feel a shy nod against your shoulder.

Taking that as your cue to continue, you straightened up, gently prying Yeosang from your embrace. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second, full of nervousness and vulnerability.

As softly as you could, you grabbed his shoulders and nudged him to turn around, Yeosang confusedly complying until you stopped him right in front of the mirror. He met his own eyes on accident before quickly looking away again, finding the bathroom counter in front of him much more interesting.

You, however, couldn't have that, reaching up to take hold of his chin and tilting it back in the direction of the mirror. "Don't look away, Yeo," you chided softly. "I want you to admire yourself with me."

Your words caused another shiver to run down his spine, somehow feeling more exposed like this than when you'd entered the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Now, where to begin," you muttered mostly to yourself, looking him up and down in the mirror. "Let's just start at the top, shall we?"

You began with his hair, freshly brushed and incredibly soft as always. You played around with the strands as you showered him with compliments, twisting them in this and that direction, making Yeosang smile.

You then moved on to exactly that next, pointing out his pretty lips and an even more beautiful smile, causing his cheeks to redden as his expression turned bashful.

His striking eyes and adorable birthmark followed before you began trailing lower, now focused on his firm, wide shoulders. Your eyes were locked onto Yeosang's the whole time, watching his gaze flit between yours and whatever part of him you were currently appreciating. As the minutes dragged on and you moved from one spot to the next, pressed up against your boyfriend's back, you could see his eyes slightly gloss over, a dazed look creeping into them.

"Now, for one of my absolute favorites," you announced with a playful grin as your hand trailed down from his collarbone, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and tugged it up. You looked at Yeosang pointedly as you held the bunched-up fabric in front of him, waiting for him to get the message. You could hear his breath hitch as the realization dawned on him, meeting your eyes unsurely before leaning forward and biting down. You just gave him a proud smile, petting the back of his head before returning your hand to his front. You took your time, languidly moving down his sternum before taking a sharp turn to grab one of his pecs. Yeosang gasped at the sensation, reaching back to hold onto your thigh for support.

"I've said this a million times already, but God, do I love your boobs," you spoke dreamily, squeezing the muscle under your fingers. Yeosang squirmed in your hold, kept in place by your other hand clutching his hip.

A small, weak sound reverberated in his chest as your pointer finger drew circles into his skin, dangerously closing in on his nipple. His eyes stayed completely focused on your hand now, steeling himself for the inevitable pinch. It didn't do much, though, as you still managed to squeeze a delicious whimper out of him when you finally did it, making him press back into your body.

"You're always so sensitive here, aren't you?" You teased, brushing over the bud with your thumb to soothe it before moving to do the same with the other one. "I can never get enough of playing with them."

By the time you were done with his chest and began trailing even lower, Yeosang was panting. His hold on your thigh tightened, trying to keep himself steady even when his legs started to go weak from your ministrations. His other hand grabbed the wrist of yours holding onto his hip, as if scared you'd even think about letting go.

But while your words and caresses clearly had a very positive effect on your boyfriend, you weren't exactly content just yet.

You could tell he was slowly gaining some of his usual confidence back through your touches and words of appreciation, and yet, his eyes kept slipping away from his form in the mirror. Every time he'd do so, you'd sternly remind him where to look, to enjoy his body with you.

At first, he obeyed, meeting your eyes through the reflection again with an even darker blush spreading through his face and down his neck. Once you got below his neckline, small whines of protest joined his responses, but he listened nonetheless.

But the moment your hand finally landed on his crotch, a switch seemingly flipped inside of him.

You smirked as he let out a pathetic whimper, his faint abs visibly tensing at the feeling. "And what do we have here?"

With the shirt still in his mouth, Yeosang couldn't exactly answer, limited to nothing but desperate whines and panting. Even then, he tried to make his feelings clear, turning his head away to try and hide into your neck again.

You were quick to stop him, though, untangling your wrist from his grip to hold his jaw in place.

"No, no," you tutted. "You know better than that, don't you?"

And Yeosang, being your lovely little good boy, almost conceded again, the tension in his neck easing as he slowly began to turn back.

But the moment the hand on his hard-on began moving, he knew he was done.

You wavered for a second as Yeosang suddenly whipped around, too fast for you to stop him this time, and shoved his face into your shoulder. A part of you wanted to scold him again, yet something told you now might not be the best time.

"Hun?" You asked softly, rubbing circles into his back. "You okay? Talk to me."

It took Yeosang a moment to realize through the haze in his mind that he still had the shirt in his mouth. Taking out the now wrinkled material, he hid his face back in your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do it like this," he muttered, and you could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. "Everything else was okay, even if a bit embarrassing, but it feels really weird to be looking at myself while you do... that."

You hummed thoughtfully, ruminating over his words. "So you're saying everything we did before that was okay? Do you think it helped you at least a little, or should we do something different?"

Yeosang shook his head. "No, no, it was really nice, actually. I was embarrassed at first, but once I pushed through that, it actually felt very comforting," he admitted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I mean, if you could push through that initial embarrassment and ended up enjoying it, then, maybe..." you trailed off, snaking a hand between your bodies to tease at the hem of his boxers, "even this could work?"

Much to your disappointment, Yeosang vehemently shook his head, tightening his hold on you. "N-no, I really don't think so. Everything else made me feel more confident and comfortable over time, but this instantly made me self-conscious all over again. It just- it feels weird to watch myself like that, I don't know."

"It's okay," you replied, retracting your hand to put it on the small of his back instead. "If it doesn't feel right, then that's that. As long as I helped you feel even a little bit better about yourself, I'm happy."

Yeosang couldn't help the small, shy smile that spread across his lips. He knew words couldn't describe just how much you cared about him, and yet, with the two of you standing here like this, baring your hearts to each other, it was almost palpable.

What was even more palpable, however, was the obvious, unresolved problem pushing into your thigh.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your boyfriend's eyes again.

"So..." you began, a coy smile on your lips, "since we said no more mirrors for now, how about we take this somewhere else and I make you feel even better?"

Yeosang's eyes widened at your offer before a small, bashful grin appeared on his face. "If you'd be so kind."

You chuckled at his sweet tone, knowing far too well his thoughts were anything but sweet right now. Nevertheless, you grabbed his hand and opened the bathroom door again.

"Then follow me, pretty boy."

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[brainddeadd]

we haven’t talked much about baby devils family besides her mom… so maybe she’s an only child also why she’s love the boys so much because she has never had siblings and what if she lost her dad a few years ago to cancer and it’s not something she really talks about only person on the devils that knows is luke so maybe when it was the cancer game it was really important to her and everyone found out about her dad

The Cancer Game

warnings: parental death

ok so.. my dad died and this is how i'd want my friends to react and how some of them did react..

if you've lost someone close to you, i am so sorry for your loss

The New Jersey Devils locker room was filled with the usual celebration buzz. They’d just pulled off a big win, and everyone was riding high on the thrill of it, the energy bouncing off the walls as teammates shouted and laughed. Normally, Y/N would have been in the thick of it, cracking jokes and soaking up the post-game excitement with her team. But tonight, she’d been different. She’d put on a brave face, even cheered a little in the locker room, but her heart wasn’t in it. Only Luke noticed the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she slipped out of the room as soon as she could without saying a word to anyone.

He’d seen her like this before, knew the kind of weight that could press down on her after certain games. The annual Cancer Awareness game, something that meant so much to the Devils organization and their fans, had an especially painful significance for her. A few years back, her dad had passed away after a long battle with cancer. It wasn’t something she talked about; she kept her emotions tucked away and rarely let them out, but this game always hit her hard. Luke was the only one who knew, and though she never said anything, he’d learned to recognize the signs.

The other guys hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, but they were noticing the change in her. Jack frowned as he watched her leave. “Did you guys see Y/N? She just left so quickly. I don’t think she even said goodbye.”

“Yeah, and she was barely talking all night,” Nico added, crossing his arms with a worried look. “She seemed…off. You think something’s wrong?”

Dawson, still buzzing from the win, looked back toward the door, his excitement dimming. “She didn’t even celebrate like usual. You think we should check on her?”

Luke glanced at them, a little torn. Y/N was private, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, but he also didn’t want her to be alone with this. With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah. I think we should.” He didn’t offer an explanation yet, but his face was serious, and the others picked up on it right away.

The group left together, the energy in the car shifting to something quieter and more solemn as they drove to Y/N’s place. They entered her apartment, hoping she’d be alright, but the scene they found tugged at their hearts.

Y/N was curled up on her couch, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Luke stepped forward first, his heart heavy as he saw his friend so vulnerable. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, not saying anything, but letting him be there.

The others stood back, exchanging looks of uncertainty and sadness. They hadn’t seen her like this before and didn’t want to intrude, but they also couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.

After a quiet moment, Jack finally spoke up. “Is…is she okay? What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

Luke took a breath, deciding to share what he knew in the hopes that they’d understand. “Her dad…he passed away from cancer a few years back. This game…this night…it’s a lot for her to handle. It brings back memories.”

There was a stunned silence as the reality of her pain sank in. Dawson looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for not realizing sooner. Nico’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he took a step closer to her.

Jack’s face fell. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said something. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

Nico nodded, his voice gentle. “We’re family, Y/N. Whatever you need, we’re here. Always.” His words were soft, filled with the warmth of someone who understood what it meant to be part of a team that cared deeply for each other beyond just hockey.

Dawson gave her a supportive smile, his voice as warm as he could make it. “Yeah, we’re here for you. If you ever need to talk or even just want someone around to keep you company, don’t hesitate. We’ve got your back.”

Y/N looked up through red, tear-streaked eyes, managing a small, appreciative smile as she took in the scene. There they were—her teammates, her friends, her family—standing around her with faces full of concern and love. She hadn’t planned to let them see her like this, hadn’t planned to share the part of herself that was still so raw and aching. But here they were, offering her every bit of their support, not backing away from her sadness.

Luke’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he whispered, “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Y/N felt her heart swell as Jack, Nico, and Dawson each moved closer, surrounding her with a warmth and presence that filled the room. They didn’t try to fix her pain or rush her through it; they simply sat with her, letting her know that she didn’t have to bear this alone. The weight of her grief felt a little lighter with them there, their quiet strength helping to carry her forward, reminding her that no matter how heavy the burden, she would never have to shoulder it by herself again.

[dragonlady-writes]

I'm Safe With You

Scenario: After being rescued from being kidnapped by a villain, you finally get to have a moment to relax in a safe place. However, you still feel trapped in their grasp, like any moment it could happen again. It takes the tender and gentle touch of you partner, lover, and friend, Shota Aizawa, to bring you back to peace.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Her Pleasure, Oral, Fingering

Triggers: Mention of kidnapping and gun violence

Smut starts at the red line.

Your home was still an active crime scene. You stood in your boyfriend's shower trying not to relive the horrifying event in your head. You focus on the burning hot water, pouring over your shoulders, the loud sound of water flowing through the pipes and hitting the tub floor. Yet, this was the first time you were alone since your rescue.

You could still feel that villain's gun against your temple. Their piercing eyes staring down at you like you were barely human. You could still count the seconds when they would pull the trigger and it would all be over. Suddenly, the shower's steam felt suffocating as you tried to take a deep breath. The more you forced down the memory of your near-death experience, the more real it felt. You had always prided yourself on your ability to be positive no matter what and to smile in the darkness.

But when you forced a smile on your face, it was like a thousand tons were added. For the first time in your life, it hurt to smile.

"It's okay," you whispered to yourself, "you're safe now."

The words offered a fleeting comfort, but they were not enough. These emotions were spiralling out of control and you threatened to lose yourself.

You didn't know when the tears started falling, but once you noticed them, you couldn't stop them anymore.

There was a knock on the door that pulled your attention. You flinched before straightening up and wiping your eyes.

"I brought clothes for you," Aizawa's voice called from the other side of the door, "Can I come in?"

"Y-Yeah," you called back, trying to stop your voice from shaking.

You heard the door open and forced yourself to quiet down your tears. When you were taken from your home, the first one who came running to your rescue was your partner, Shota Aizawa. The two of you were co-workers initially at U.A. High School. You both fell in love after only a few dates together. Your friends always teased that a wedding was around the corner. You never had a partner like Shota before. Most men loved to show off how great they were with big romantic gestures and loud declarations. Shota was quiet and reserved, but no less loving. He was always the first to notice when you wanted something even before you realized you wanted it. He could read your needs based off your mannerisms and always took care of them. Every morning, there was a gift of your favorite coffee order on your desk or a note asking you to have lunch with him later. So, in your most vulnerable moment, you knew he was going to notice and he was going to worry.

"I left them by the sink for you," he said.

You tried to respond with an 'okay' but felt your voice crack. His silhouette turned to look at you and you knew he heard it.

"Thank you, love," you said with a tight voice.

He was quiet for a long moment, making it harder to hold yourself together. You didn't want to hide these feelings from him, but how could you burden him with this pain? You already knew he blamed himself for letting you get taken in the first place. You didn't want to add to his burden because you cared about him.

"You've been in there for a while," he said, "Are you ready to come out?"

You felt a sniffle break out and you hung your head in shame. You turned off the shower head, knowing it wouldn't hide your suffering any longer. You never liked to burden others with your struggles. Maybe it was a bad response cemented into you or a learned coping skill you developed, but you always wanted to put others first. Aizawa never let you do that with him. Since the beginning of your relationship, he always had you speak your mind to him. He ensured you were taking care of yourself before asking anything of you. You both cherished each other.

You slowly pulled the curtain screen back and stepped out the shower. He stood in front of you with a towel opened for you. As soon as you were within his grasp, he placed the warm towel around you and embraced you. You wrapped your arms around him as you buried your face into his cotton shirt. The lavender scent of freshly washed clothes pulled you deeper into him as the nightmare was pushed back. His muscled arms gripped you tightly as they held you against him. For a moment, you could feel he was trembling before his hands tightened around your waist in reassurance. You couldn't stop the tears as you felt your walls melt away.

"I thought I was going to die," you said through tears, "I didn't want to leave you."

You heard his breathing hitch as he buried his face into your neck.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he said, his voice breaking, "If I'd accepted your call faster-"

"No," you said quickly, "No, Shota, you saved me. It's because of you I'm still alive. Please... don't blame yourself."

Your hands went up to his head and cupped his face. You pulled him up slowly to look into his eyes. His black eyes stared down at you between tears. They were like delicate glass about to spill over with water; his eyes held so much pain and regret. He'd been holding back his own fears just the same for your sake.

"I love you Shota," you said with tears in your eyes and a warm smile on your face.

His hand rested over yours and wrapped his fingers around it. He placed a warm kiss on the back of your hand, "I love you too."

He pulled you closer to him and leaned into you. You tilted your head up and kissed him, slow, tender, and filled with need. You loved him with your entire being. Your whole heart belonged to him. Your kiss was filled with every bit of love you held for him. His hand went to the back of your neck as he drank in your kiss as if it was the last kiss he would ever receive.

---

You pulled back a moment to breathe before diving back in. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands traveled down your sides. The towel fell as he lifted you by your thighs around him. He supported you as if you weighed like a feather, not daring to break from your kiss.

He carried you out of the restroom, still dripping wet, towards his bedroom. Your eyes were closed as you focused on the touch of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands that gripped into your thighs, and the sound of his soft grunt as he carried you. You were caught off guard by the sudden sensation of falling into a fluffy bed. Your heart was racing as you gazed up at him.

He pulled his black long sleeve over his head and revealed his toned, strong chest. No matter how many times you saw him naked, the sight of his bare chest always filled you with wanting. You felt your legs naturally want to part and let him have his way. He gazed down at you, eyes filled with desire as they trailed over your figure. His fingers lightly pushed your knees apart as he crawled between them.

"Is this okay?" he asked as he gazed down at you.

He cupped your face with a tender hand as his eyes were filled with love. You smiled up at him as you turned your head to kiss his wrist.

"I'm safe with you," you whisper to him.

You watched the expression on his face soften. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips before lowering to your jaw. To your chest. Then stopping between your breasts as he placed his lips against the soft skin.

A small moan escaped your lips which only encouraged him to leave small marks on the skin. Yet, unknown to you, it was a distraction from his other hand. It held up your knee before resting it over his shoulder. As you melted to the kisses at your breast, you were shocked as his fingers traced between the walls between your thighs.

"Shota..." you couldn't hold back the moan in your voice as his fingers held you open.

"Shh, just relax," he coaxed as his lips found your nipple.

His finger slipped inside of you and stroked over the sensitive skin. You could barely contain yourself as he touched you perfectly. He always touched you perfectly. He knew your body better than you did as you were enthralled by him. With your leg raised above, it gave him the perfect angle to reach your most sensitive spot. You couldn't hold back the moans that escaped you. Your hand reached down to hold onto his hair, but his other hand stopped you. Instead, he placed your hand over your breast as he lowered himself further.

"Keep yourself busy, sweetheart," he purred as he kneeled down.

You rolled your head back as your fingers traced over your breasts, circling around your nipples to please them. His hands gripped your thighs and lifted them above his head. Then with little warning, his soft tongue stroked over your pearl, the stubble of his beard tickling between your legs.

Your back arched as the tension in your body built up. You could feel yourself about to reach a climax as his tongue and lips devoured you. His fingers picked up their pace as he felt you tighten around them.

"Shota I'm-" you struggled to get out words as you felt all of your muscles grow tight around your thighs.

"Don't keep me waiting," he said, "Let it all out."

It didn't take much more for your body to release. You came over his fingers as your muscles all let go at once along with the stress and the pain. In place of it was pure bliss and love. The memory of today's horror felt so far away in comparison to that feeling. There was no fear, no pain. Only the love that you held for Shota and the love he held for you.

You barely could catch your breath as he moved onto the bed and pulled you over his chest. You could hear his heart racing as he rested your head against it, holding you steady in his arms. His hand stroked your bare back as your body trembled from pleasure. He tilted up your chin to gaze at your face and smiled as he saw yours. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his to see the relief and joy in his eyes.

"You're my everything," he said sweetly, placing a warm kiss on your forehead, "And I'll stop at nothing to save you. I promise."

[poisonlove]

Can I have a request!? Jenna Ortega x Fem!Readder

"so.. you're just going to.. give up on me." "that is NOT what i meant-" "you're not willing to fight for me either. i think it's pretty clear, Y/n."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

-Thank you!

FIGHT | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

Status: request

Warning: fluffy

The distance was becoming difficult to bear.

Jenna was in Romania for the filming of 'Wednesday,' and our relationship was feeling the strain. Her messages were becoming rarer, and our calls, though filled with love, were always too brief.

I was in Italy, far from her, and the emptiness I felt was growing each day.

My eyes were fixed on the screen of my phone, waiting for Jenna's response: would she be up for a Skype video call?I nervously bit my lower lip, palms sweating. I wanted to see her and talk to her about... us. I don't want to seem selfish; I know how hard she's working, often late into the night... but is it too much to ask for a simple good morning every now and then?

I was even considering the idea of taking a break, not because I don't love her, but maybe it would be one less thing for her to worry about.

Jen❤️Call

I quickly skimmed my girlfriend's message and tapped on the Skype icon, calling Jenna.

After three rings, Jenna picked up.

Jenna's tired face appeared on the screen. "Hey, Amore" she said with a smile, "how are you?"

I looked sadly into her sleep-deprived eyes, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

I'm a horrible person.

I tried to smile, but the worry was evident in my eyes. "Hi Jen," I replied, forcing the corners of my lips into a smile.

"Everything okay, Amore?" Jenna responded with concern, likely noticing my obviously fake smile.

Of course she noticed, she's an actress.

"I can't wait to come home and hold you," she added, looking at me with total admiration, her brown eyes sparkling uniquely. I played with my fingers, looking down at my legs feeling the weight of the words I needed to say.

I took a deep breath.

"Jenna, we need to talk about how things are going between us," I said, wanting to get to the point.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, every word charged with tension.

Jenna immediately noticed the seriousness in my voice. Her smile faded.

"What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?" I looked up and saw her expression change from happy to deeply troubled, her teeth biting her lower lip forcefully.

"No, you didn't say anything wrong," I replied, trying to stay calm despite the anxiety growing inside me."It's just that... it feels like we're drifting further apart. Your messages are rare, and the calls, as lovely as they are, are too short. I feel neglected," I timidly confessed, feeling my voice tremble.

Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I know, and I'm sorry. The work here is grueling, and I try to make time for us, but it's not enough." Her smile returned, but it was forced. "Three more months and I'll be with you," she said calmly, her tone hopeful but tinged with despair.

"It's not just about time, Jenna," I continued, tears welling up behind my eyes. "It's that I feel like I'm not a priority to you anymore." I confessed, feeling the knot in my throat tighten.

Jenna looked at me with genuine concern.

"Don't say that. You're the most important thing to me," she said, looking at me sadly, her eyes watery. I could see the pain reflected in her eyes, and it broke my heart.

Jenna hates seeing me cry; it makes her sad.

"Then why don't you show it?" I snapped, my voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Jenna, but I can't keep feeling this alone," I said angrily, sadness mixing with the rest of my emotions.

Jenna clenched her fists, frustration evident on her face.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for me? I've been working for hours, learning scripts, shooting grueling scenes. I'm exhausted!" Jenna looked at me with anger, gritting her teeth. I could see the fatigue and frustration building up inside her like a volcano about to erupt.

"It's never enough for you, is it? You always want more," she said with frustration, her voice cracking.

Ouch. I felt her words like a stab in the gut.

"I don't deny that," I retorted, "but I can't ignore feeling neglected. Even a simple message once in a while would make a difference." I suggested, feeling the anxiety grow inside me as I noticed the change in atmosphere between us.

Jenna's anger soon gave way to sadness, and a strange look came over her eyes.

"So... are you... giving up on me?" she asked, her voice filled with pain. I could sense the fear behind her words, a fear that resonated within me too.

Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Then are you willing to fight for us?" she interrupted, frustration and desperation in her voice. "Or are you going to leave me?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, feeling the tension rise.

"Jenna, I want to fight for us, but I can't do it alone. I need you to be willing to do the same. We can't make it if we don't both put in the effort. I love you, but I need to feel closer to you even when we're apart. We can find a balance, I'm sure of it, but it takes both of us." I felt tears running down my cheeks, every word filled with hope and fear.

Jenna remained silent, analyzing my words. Her gaze was intense, as if she was trying to understand every nuance of what I had said.

"You're right," she finally said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I sighed loudly, finding her adorable, my heart lighter seeing her so vulnerable.

The sound of someone knocking on her door made me raise an eyebrow in confusion.

I looked at the screen, trying to figure out what was happening.

Jenna sighed and looked towards the door, irritated. "Coming!" she said to whoever was on the other side. "Damn persistence," she muttered softly before looking back at me with a big smile.

She muted the video call.

Jenna stood up from her desk chair, revealing her casual attire: an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts I had lent her for the trip. My heart swelled with tenderness seeing her wear something of mine, making me smile like an idiot.

As she walked away, I glanced at her trailer curiously. The walls were adorned with photos of us together, taken in happy moments. A plush toy I had won for her on our first date rested next to her pillow. There were work notes scattered on the table, highlighted scripts, and a half-empty coffee mug. The atmosphere was a mix of chaos and warmth, a perfect reflection of her current life.

Jenna returned to the computer, a strange look on her face. She seemed worried, as if something had troubled her.

"Everything okay?" I asked with concern.

Jenna unmuted and looked at me guiltily.

"It was Emma; she said Tim urgently wanted to see us," she said calmly.

I sighed loudly, feeling frustration grow.

"Go, I love you," I said with a small smile on my lips.

Even though I wanted to talk to her more.

Jenna widened her smile and blew a kiss to the camera. "Love you more," she said, smiling broadly, winking at me before ending the call.

I was alone again, the feeling of emptiness returning to fill the room. I looked at the dark screen, trying to process the conflicting emotions inside me. I felt relieved for having spoken up but still worried about what the future held for us.

But I realized it was time to make a drastic decision.

(...)

With the suitcase gripped tightly in my hands, I made my way towards the filming location accompanied by Percy, Jenna's best friend who had volunteered to come with me to ensure everything went smoothly.

As I navigated through the bustling security crowd on set, I reflected on how I had come to make this decision. I had chosen to take the flight to Romania because I felt a deep need to see Jenna. The long weeks of separation had intensified my desire to embrace her again, to feel her presence beside me.

The journey had been an ordeal, with its complications and unexpected expenses, but nothing could stop me. I felt that this gesture was important not only for the two of us but also for the future of our relationship. I was determined to show Jenna how much she meant to me, how much I was willing to do for us.

"I have to admit, it's a bit more challenging to get in here than I thought," I commented with a sigh of frustration as we made our way through the security crowd on set.

Percy nodded with a sympathetic smile.

"I figured. But you know, this is a big surprise you're giving Jenna. She'll be over the moon."

"I really hope so," I replied as Percy offered silent support while we continued to walk.

"Thank you so much for coming to meet me at the entrance and for avoiding the security questions by saying you were with me."

"Don't mention it," Percy replied with a nod.

"We're on the same team."

We exchanged a knowing smile as we continued to make our way through the set, searching for the spot where Jenna was filming.

There was utter chaos.

Cameras moved with precision, people walked frantically to coordinate everything, and Tim Burton's authoritative voice gave directives from behind the scenes.

As we advanced, I noticed Emma sitting in front of a makeup artist, focused as she was being prepared for her scene. With a glance, she gestured with her free hand to indicate where Jenna was.

"I'm going to get ready," Percy said with an apologetic smile, and I nodded weakly.

I left the suitcase in a corner.

Jenna, dressed as Wednesday, was in the middle of the forest on set, with a stern and concentrated look as she tried to get into character. However, her eyes seemed veiled with a subtle sadness. She scanned her surroundings, trying to focus despite the distractions.

Meanwhile, Tim Burton intervened from a distance with his authoritative voice.

"No, Jenna, you need to smile in this scene! Look at your uncle!" he said, trying to guide her performance and set the right atmosphere for the shot.

Jenna sighed loudly, visibly upset by the director's request. "Let's try again," she said determinedly to her crew, preparing for another attempt to capture the required emotion.

As the crew organized for the new take, Jenna finally spotted my figure among the actors and crew present on set.

Her face suddenly lit up with a radiant smile, momentarily forgetting the scene's tensions and focusing all her attention on me.My heart raced at the sight of that genuine smile.

Our gazes met, and time seemed to stand still as Jenna hurried towards me.

"Y/n!" Jenna exclaimed loudly, her voice echoing through the trees on set as she ran towards me.

"STOP!" Tim shouted, and Jenna continues to run "who is y/n?" The producer asked one of his colleagues

Without hesitation, Jenna caught up to me and hugged me tightly like a koala, holding me affectionately and lovingly. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, and my heart filled with joy at her closeness.

"You're really here," Jenna whispered emotionally against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

Jenna began to cry.

The brunette held the embrace with a strength that conveyed all her love and gratitude. Her tears, warm and salty, began to silently trickle down her cheeks as emotion overwhelmed her.I felt her heart beating strongly against my chest, her breath hitched with the intensity of her emotions.

I stroked her hair, trying to comfort her as she continued to cry.

"I'm here, Jenna," I whispered softly, holding her even closer. "I'm here with you, forever."

Jenna said nothing, but her embrace spoke volumes for her.

It was an embrace that meant more than a thousand words, expressing all our love, our struggle, and our resilience.We remained wrapped in each other's arms, in the silence of the forest on set, while the world around us continued to turn. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and reconnection, a moment we would both cherish in our hearts forever.

It was clear that those tears were tears of joy, gratitude, overcoming fear, and rediscovered love. In that moment, all that mattered was that we were together, embraced and united, ready to face whatever destiny had in store for us.

When Jenna lifted her face from my neck, her eyes shone with renewed intensity. Without saying a word, she began to kiss my face tenderly, leaving a mark of affection on every inch of skin she could reach.

Then, with a sigh full of love, her kisses became more intense and deep, ending on my lips with a passion that reflected her gratitude and the joy of having me close again.Our kisses grew more intense, conveying all the passion accumulated during our separation. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, as my hands gently caressed her back. Jenna responded with the same ardor, as if she wanted to completely merge with me.

Time seemed suspended as we lost ourselves in our embraces and kisses.

Then, slowly, we pulled apart, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes with an intensity that spoke louder than any words.

"Y/N," Jenna whispered, her breath still ragged with emotion. "I've missed you so much. I've wanted you so much."

My lips curved into a tender smile. "I've missed you too, Jenna. You don't know how much I've longed for this moment, to feel you close to me again."Jenna pulled me even closer, as if she wanted to make sure I was really there with her.

"I love you so much," she said sincerely, her brown eyes shining with love.

"I love you more than words can say," I replied firmly, squeezing her hand against my heart. "And I'm here to fight for us, for as long as it takes."

Jenna nodded slowly, a tear of happiness sliding down her cheek.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said, her voice moved. "I promise I'll always be here for you."

We embraced again, our hearts beating in unison. In that moment, I knew we were stronger together, ready to face any challenge that came our way.

I would never give up on Jenna, never.

[oceantornadoo]

Imagine trying to get mafia!Simon to take you away on a vacation. He’s been so stressed lately, and you want to be a good wife, and get him away from it for a while.

It also doesn’t hurt that you want him completely alone, while not picking up on how he wants the exact same thing…😩😩😩

yummy. this has a smidgen of primal prey and exhibitionism with a small side of breeding kink

———————————————————————

“hi.” you sat down on the couch, taking advantage of a rare day where simon was home before dinner. you had been sleeping together (actually sleeping) since the incident, but every morning he’d leave at 6am with only a forehead kiss and you wouldn’t see him until that night, sneaking under the covers with you and falling asleep immediately. you wanted more, you wanted your husband, but unfortunately his work was keeping him extremely busy.

simon missed you so much it ached. today was a rare occasion and he was hoping to actually spend some time with you, maybe another kiss or two. he fucked his fist daily in his morning shower, thinking about you, but never had time for anything more. so when you looked at him slyly and mentioned “you know we never had a honeymoon…”, he is all over it, immediately telling his bosses he’ll be gone for a week and booking flights to territories far outside any mafia business.

which is how you ended up on one of those private islands in the caribbean, only you two and the ocean for miles and miles. you’ve decided you need to have your husband, all of him, and are finally comfortable enough to go all the way with him. it’s just a matter of making him see that…

“so if we’re all alone…” you say after breakfast the first day, taking in the sunlight and how your backyard connects to the beach. “and i don’t want tan lines…” simon’s eyes are on you, burning holes into the skimpy bikini you have on, mask halfway up his face from eating breakfast up. he’s taking in all your curves, bit of belly and some stretch marks, cataloging every piece that you’re allowing him to see. your hands track his movements sensually, sliding up from your waist to your neck, and ever so slowly, undoing the ties of your top. you hold them there for a second, reveling in the hunger in your husbands eyes. you untie the straps at the waist and the top falls, baring all of your tits to a man who might devour you right here, right now.

to cover the blush on your face, you turn around, working your bikini bottoms off, adding some sway into your hips. you bend over, fully naked, and hear something between a whine and a growl from behind you. you turn around again, baring all of you this time. if he can’t tell you want him by this, you might need to just jump on him. there’s a glint in his eyes, a reminder of ghost, the man who gets what he wants no matter what.

you’re running towards the beach, simon right behind you. he’s stripping off his shirt and mask as he goes, too caught up in the moment of care. your feet touch the ocean, stopping for a second to take in the salt in the air. that was your mistake.

simon grabs you from behind, marking you with bruises that will last for days. “thought you could run, wife? could tease me and leave?” you’re clawing at him, pretending to struggle while secretly loving it, loving this man who can catch on so well to what you want. “say red if you want me to stop.” he whispers and you nod. simon bites down on your shoulder and you gasp, the sensation so foreign. through the pain you find pleasure in being marked his, finally. he presses you against him, clad in only boxers, allowing you to feel how hard you make him. you try to run again, only moving because he lets you, making it so your torso is above the water.

simon is right there with you, standing in this ocean, captivated by you. “i’m glad we’re finally alone.” he says, stopping the scene from before so you know how much he wants you. “me too.” you reply, hands running up his torso you’ve felt in the dark but never seen. and finally your hands make it to his face, thumbs running over faded scars and bruises. you pull him in for a deep kiss, murmuring “thank you” in between kisses, grateful for this man showing you all of him. he picks you up, chest to chest, hand pulling your hair as waves gently hit you both from behind. simon is done with this, the teasing and the wanting, he just wants to take you.

so he’s running again towards the house, desperate to have you. he lays you out on the kitchen counter, a meal he’s waited weeks for. your kisses turn sloppy and he stops them, causing you to whine. “let me taste my wife, yeah?” and you nod. he makes his way down, licking your nipples, giving you slight bites when you try to tug him down more. next is your stomach, where he places reverent kisses so you know how much he loves it. finally he’s right there, licking the salt from the juncture of your thighs. your hand finds his hair and tugs it, so he tugs your nipple right back. “siii” you moan. he noses the outside of your clit, a sharp gasp bursting from your throat. “that’s what i thought.” he dives in, moving your legs over his shoulders, he starts slow, licking the remaining water from your folds. kitten licks, getting accustomed to the scent of you, his day old scruff scratching your thighs. he moves toward your hole, swirling his tongue around before finally plunging in. he’s sure to keep his nose against you clit as he tastes you, the squelching sounds increasing with every lick.

he moves his right hand from your thigh to your ass, thumb on your other hole, pausing to let you tell him off. when you don’t, he presses in slightly, just the tip of his thumb, giving you more pressure. he can tell you’re on the top of your orgasm, your walls sucking his tongue in as your whines get more desperate. he hums “come for me, lovie.” and there you are, walls clenching around nothing as he pays attention to your clit. he pushes his thumb in a bit more into your ass, prolonging your orgasm as you feel full and empty at the same time.

“simon, fuck.” you whimper at your husband between your thighs. he slowly removes himself, thumb out of you, as he gives you a slow smile, covered in your juices. he climbs forward to kiss you and just as he does, inserts two fingers into your aching cunt. you moan into his mouth, needing more. he knows. “what do you need, lovie?” simon smirks down at you, knowing you’re absolutely cockdrunk and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. “i need…” you lose your nerve, suddenly aware of being fully naked with the doors open. anyone could walk by your villa and see you spread out in front of your husband. like a switch, the thought turns you on.

“i need you to fuck me.” you say, gaining courage. he raises his eyebrows, surprised at his little wife finally saying what she wants. his dick has recovered from the ocean water so he drags down his boxers, letting you see it jut out against his stomach, leaking precum.

“need who to fuck you?” he asks, somehow climbing on the table, forearms braced against your head as his dick lays on your cunt, teasing your clit. “say it.” he growls, pinching your nipple because of your silence. you draw him in for a quick kiss, a moment of tenderness, letting him see the trust in your eyes. “need my husband to fuck his wife.” you reply, hand snaking down to pump his cock. he grunts, cock lengthening at your touch. he lays his hand on top of yours as you guide his cock to your entrance. he takes a second to read your clit with it, and while you’re gasping at the sensation, he slots it in.

you both moan at the contact, reveling in the feeling. his thumb finds your clit, swirling it as he works his way in, small strokes until you fully let him in. finally his hips are against yours, his face in the crook of your neck. “simon.” you cry, needing him to move. and he does, hips pumping into you as he rises up, one hand under your head to protect it as the other plays with your clit. you’re already on edge from his fingers, so when he changes the angle to hit your pubic bone, you’re there, walls spasming around his cock as he draws it in and out. “you feel so good, lovie. i want to make this longer but fuck.” your nails draw his hips in, letting him use you to reach his orgasm. you give him sloppy kisses, saliva dripping down to spread beneath your tits, showing him how much you want him to use you as you suck his tongue.

“come in me, si. want you to get me pregnant.” you both know you’re on birth control but that doesn’t matter in the moment. “waddling around, everyone’ll know how good you fuck your wife.” that’s it, simon’s cumming in you, white liquid seeping down your folds as your womb can’t contain all of it. you both leave his cock in you as he collapses into you, breathing hard. “want you to fuck me like that all the time, si.” you whisper, letting him know how much you liked that. “gonna be a good little wife for me? bend over anytime i want?”

“yes sir.”

[emilyyyts]

Chapter 17 foreshadowing/why I think Fushiguro Megumi might be in love with Itadori Yuuji

I've never understood the reason why Gege will add that line of Todo (i mean the special mention of the "it can be a guy")

The idea could've been perfectly understood even if the line wasn't added, but Gege purposefully sat on their desk and decided to draw this panel and add that specific line.

This means opening the possibility of Megumi liking guys, right?

I might be overthinking this, but text and dialogs are super important in mangas. Practically everything that it's said has (or should have) a purpose .

Dialogue scenes move the story forward, for instance, by giving important information about the characters, their relationships, the milieu, and the evolving events; they can also build suspense and reorientate the narrative.

So why then adding this?

We've seen several times that Fushiguro often thought of Itadori as a kind person—even since the beginning.

(It's literally Itadori being described)

If we go back some chapters, we can easily notice this is how Itadori is first introduced in the Manga: as a compassionate person, a good person with the intent of helping others.

In fact, Compassion its a highlighted feature Itadori has always showed through the entire series.

Even at Sukuna's final moment, he shows himself compassionate offering help to him.

Many had thought Itadori fits that description of Megumi, and now I'll explain why I think this is a possibility.

We know the relationship between them its centric in the story —it practically started because Megumi decided he wanted to save Yuuji.

We've see them caring for each other over and over again, many decisions they take are influenced by the thought of benefiting/trying to help the other.

And then we got Itadori really trying hard for an entire arc to save Fushiguro, and when the opportunity comes, he tells him it's okay if he doesn't want to live anymore, but at the same time addmiting he will miss him if he goes.

This scales to the point its practically the love they hold for each other that helps to completely defeat Sukuna

I would also like to add this panel and why I think Fushiguro was projecting himself with the desire of his sister being with someone like Itadori.

The line is Fushiguro stating he wanted his sister —a person we know he LOVES and thinks very highly of— to be with someone as good as Itadori.

He thinks very highly of the two of them.

Theyre both good persons so they deserve each other?

Therefore, he projects himself that way:

He might think it's Tsumiki who deserves to be with Yuuji because she was good, and Yuuji is good too, so logically they deserve each other, right?

He loves Yuuji, but he might not be worth his love because it was him who introduced Yuuji into the jujutsu world (a painful life full of lost and worries).

But maybe someone else might be worth, maybe his sister.

This is how he imagine a perfect peaceful life, he's trasmitng and projecting his desires.

It's not her who wants to be with Yuuji. It's you.

So gathering all the pieces together gives us the big picture, and Megumi's words might feel more like a foreshadowing of their relationship rather than simple words for introducing Todo in the Manga (tho it works in both ways). The response Megumi gives open the possibility for such feelings between the two of them.

So basically, everything we saw to this point that involves the two of them has been development and profundization in their relationship for this last punchline we got of Megumi realizing that he wants to keep trying because its worth living out of love

After all, love IS a centric theme in the story. It's mentioned several times along the series. Gojo describes it as the worst curse, Itadori thinks Sukuna acts that way because of the lack of it. And if we add this new layer, Megumi thinks its woth living out of it.

Ultimately, what's going on between them is inherently love— aside if it's or not romantic

I can't fully explain my ideas cause i can't put them in orden, sorry :/

This is just my opinion btw 🤷‍♀️ also there's only 3 chapters left so I might end up as a big fucking clown 🤡 literally anything could happen but we'll see

Anyway, tell me your thoughts on this 👇