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shorkbrian · 4 years

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Anxious

Prelude - It took me three evenings to write this (EW that’s the longest I've ever taken) and it’s RLLY long (almost 10k) so be warned. The style is mean’t to be jumbled, grammatically incorrect, and awful, rushed, and incoherent. My day-to-day life process is like this but worse lol and I wanted to capture just the feeling of bad that exists. Have fun.

(Ps Kirishima is the subtlest of creeps here. Def a stalker, but good at lying, and reader is too gullible.)

Pairing - Yandere Kirishima X GN Reader

Warnings - anxiety, panic attack, non con, NSFW, idk the usual.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/1qFMIjTe9esCDiytqUY19t?si=RrkIvlXMReyT6CYKEh6xdw

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh god, is that Pro-Hero Red Riot?

Your hands tremble as you lift your drink to your lips, take a shaky sip.

It feels too hot in here, is it hot? You scream internally.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Red Riot, your favorite Pro-Hero in the entire world, was currently standing in line at Starbucks, looking up at the menu with his big, dumb, handsome face. He was wearing his hero costume - meaning he was on-duty, abs out and mask on.

As usual, you had ordered your regular drink, immediately sat down (always the blue armchair by the window, the one with the little table next to it). Normally you ignored each little tinkling of the bell above the door, the sound signaling another person entering the coffee shop. You just wanted to nurse your drink and look at stupid memes on your phone, try to gas yourself up for the day ahead, convince yourself that you would be able to get through whatever life decides to throw at you.

A particularly violent shake of the bell had your head snapping up, the loud noise startling you.

And holy fuck.

Red Riot.

Your cheeks were burning as you lowered your eyes to your phone, knowing that the big man was moving up in line, then ordering, then probably moving to wait near the drink pickup.

Looking up was out of the question - you didn’t want to ogle the Hero and make him feel uncomfortable, or for him to catch sight of your stupid blushing.

You almost dropped your drink the next time you raised it to your lips, your hands were so sweaty.

And of course that little slip-up had your heart beating ever faster, embarrassed that you had almost made a mess all over yourself, self conscious that someone had seen, oh god, what if people were looking at you, thought you were dumb and couldn’t even drink correctly? Oh god.

You set your drink back onto the little table at your side. A quick glance upward (to check the clock, that’s where your eyes went) and you could see Red Riot out of the corner of your eye, smiling as he took a picture with a fan as they both waited for their respective drinks.

Wouldn’t that be cool, to get a picture with him? But oh, that would mean you’d have to stand up, stumble over awkwardly towards him. Could you leave your drink on the side table? Would your seat be taken before you got back?

The hero would probably be able to spot you from a mile away, see how weirdly you walk, how your body looked. The thought made you cringe; he was so muscled and fit and in-shape, he’d probably think you were fat, or maybe weak? He’d be disgusted, wouldn’t he.

If you managed to get close enough to ask him if he wouldn’t mind taking a picture with you, he’d have to hear your voice crack, see how you shook like a tiny chihuahua from nervousness, see how sweaty and flushed you were from the embarrassment of being alive, of being seen.

God, you hated yourself.

You could never approach the Pro-hero and ask for a picture. He’d see how revolting, how weird and nervous and pathetic you were.

Plus, you’d already talked to the barista to get your coffee, had walked to the coffeeshop all by yourself and committed yourself to the horrifying ordeal of being known and seen by society. You’d done enough today to make your anxiety skyrocket, your hands were already shaking so bad, it’s a miracle you hadn’t dropped your drink or your phone or done something stupid and embarrassing to call attention to yourself.

“Red Riot!” Your eyes flickered up at the barista shouting, saw Red Riot smile and compliment the barista as they handed over his drink, something large and brightly colored and sporting an ungodly amount of whipped cream on top.

Red Riot left the Starbucks, the bell above the door jingling just as violently as it had when he had entered - the man was enthusiastic about seemingly everything, even opening and closing a door.

That’s actually one of the reasons he was your favorite. Red Riot was so confident and self assured, beaming with positivity and kindness. It was clear to see that he loved his job, that he loved life. Of course, you had seen him have bad days - in a few of the interviews after big rescues or horrific fights, his smile seemed to waver a bit, his eyes getting misty as the casualties were mentioned.

But that just showed he was human. Sensitive.

You grabbed your drink again, grimaced as nausea washed over you in a gentle wave. You were such a nervous wreck. But Red Riot had left - the only people here now were the employees and the people waiting in line. You just prayed none of them would pay attention or take notice of you.

----

He was here again.

Holy fuck, he was here again!

This time you weren’t as nervous (a mild feeling of excitement could be felt), you could actually drink out of your Starbucks cup without shaking like a leaf.

The redheaded hero had gotten his drink already, once again something large and colorful and probably loaded with sugar. But instead of leaving immediately, he moved to sit down and holy fuck - holy fuck he was walking right past you.

You didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself by moving - humans will subconsciously look towards movement, you knew that. But he walked further, you saw him sit down by the corner window, settling into the seat comfortably. He was wearing his hero outfit again, abs rippling as he leaned back, and out of the corner of your eye you could see him fiddling with his mask before taking it off and chucking onto the table in front of him.

Ah, so he was probably on a break.

Averting your eyes back to your phone, you tried to ignore his presence. He was a human being, just like yourself, who deserved and probably appreciated his privacy. God knows, if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want fans to even think about you, much less look at you.

Minutes passed, maybe twenty? Thirty? But you had finished your drink. Now it was time to will yourself to your feet, to breathe, in, out. You were going to walk over to the trashcan, throw your drink cup away, and leave to walk back home.

Oh, but you were nervous.

You always felt nervous - this was a common occurrence, and each time you came here (you visited this Starbucks maybe twice a week) there was always this fight with your anxiety.

People would look at you as soon as you stood up. Did you walk weird? Your body had weird proportions, people would be mocking you inside their heads as you walked. Your outfit wasn’t trendy, it didn’t fit your body right, you looked odd and out-of-place - that’s probably what people thought as soon as their eyes landed on you.

You’d get judged for your drink cup - the size, because people would probably think it was too big for somebody with your body. Or maybe too small? Would people think you don’t take care of yourself?

Oh god, what if it slipped out of your hand as you were walking over? Even with it being empty, the noise of the cup hitting the floor would draw everyone’s eyes to you. They’d watch as you scramble to pick it up, and they’d probably think how clumsy and awkward and incompetent you were.

And what if the trashcan was full? Would you carry your empty cup home with you? That would look weird, someone carrying an empty cup down the street. I mean, who does that? Well, you’d seen other people do it, watched them carry their drink until they reached a trashcan, and then throw it away. But what if there weren’t any public trashcans nearby? You’d look so odd, fumbling along trying so hard to walk normally, to not draw attention to yourself, to blend in with everyone.

Should you turn around to see if there was another trashcan in the Starbucks? Oh, but that might look stupid. The employees had seen you so often, you’d look like a fool for not knowing if there was another trashcan.

Ugh, and your walk. You have to focus on straightening your shoulders, keeping your back straight, moving your arms - just a little, not too much. Taking even steps, not walking with a heavy foot or making any stomping or scuffing sounds.

There was so much to focus on, too much. And now you had been sitting here for five minutes, knuckles white as you gripped your empty drink cup. You looked like a moron.

You could do this.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Remind yourself that people didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to all of the lame little things that you did. You anxiety was misplaced, you worried about things too much, and everything was fine.

You were okay, you could do this.

And so you stood, walked to the trashcan by the door (oh thank god, it was empty), and threw your cup away.

You heard Red Riot saying bye to the employees, his cheery, upbeat voice as he laughed at something one of them said. Oh, had something been said about you? Were the employees and Red Riot laughing about what a disaster you were?

No, you were just being nervous, that was your anxiety talking. Red Riot wasn’t that kind of person, and the employees weren’t either. You knew this.

The door jingled as you opened it, and you heard footsteps behind you so you moved to the side after you had gone through, holding the door open for whoever was behind you.

“Thanks cutie!”

Red Riot was fixing his mask as he strolled past, and your head snapped up, flushing fiercely as you met his gaze. You smiled awkwardly, throwing up a feeble thumbs-up.

Oh god, why did you do that?

Red Riot smiled back at you, giving his own exuberant thumbs-up. Well, at least he was doing it too. That made your anxiety quiet down a bit, emboldened by your favorite Pro-Hero.

You watched his broad back as he walked away, muscles flexing with each step. He really was a beautiful man, both inside and out.

----

The next time you went to Starbucks, you reached the door right as someone else did (even though you saw them walking towards the door, even though you slowed down your pace so they would reach the door first and would go inside so you wouldn’t have to do that awkward dance of who-gets-the-door and who-goes-inside-first).

But they pierced through the awkwardness, yanked the door open for you and stepped to the side and motioned for you to go in first.

It was Red Riot.

He was wearing casual clothes today, ripped jeans and a dark hoodie, but you’d recognize that spike red hair anywhere, those gleaming shark teeth too.

You nodded your thanks quickly, hurrying through the door so he wouldn’t have to stand there for long. Immediately you headed for the bathroom, not wanting to have the Pro-Hero standing in line behind you. He was intimidating, but in the nicest way possible. You were just afraid there was something about you that he would think to be weird, or odd, or out-of-place.

Better to just avoid the situation altogether.

When you finished your business (you were a nervous pee-er), you ordered your drink, deciding to be bold this time and try something different from your usual choice. It was the little things, the small little bits of life that made you anxious - those were the things that you tried to overcome. I mean, life’s all about the small victories, right? And hopefully if you built up enough small victories, you could have a really big victory someday, like telling your favorite barista that you liked her hair, or picking a different seat to sit in, or trying to make a friend with another customers as you waited in line.

But for today, the small victory was stepping outside of your comfort zone just a little bit, getting something new that you weren’t used to.

You ordered, waited patiently for your drink to be made, and then turned to go settle down in your blue armchair by the window.

And Red Riot was sitting in your seat.

Fuck.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty, and you felt the familiar pang of an upset tummy. You were so tired of being nervous, of freaking out every single time there was a small change that you weren’t aware of, or if something happened that you couldn’t control.

There was an armchair opposite the one you always chose - also blue, but not as comfortable and certainly not with a good view out the window. It directly faced your usual spot, but in all your time coming here, no one had ever sat in it. A first you had just figured it was uncomfortable, but as you came here more and more, you figured that the nook was probably for couples rather than individual coffee drinkers.

The time you visited was a bit odd, eight PM, a few hours before closing. But it was the least crowded at this time, and the sun was barely setting, and it was the perfect time for you to be unbothered and by yourself.

But there was Red Riot, invading your (unofficial) space.

But it was okay, you could just sit somewhere else.

It felt weird, sliding onto one of the chairs at a small table. You were so used to your usual, safe routine that this threw you off. You were shaking so bad that you missed your mouth on your first try of sipping at the straw. What an idiot.

You had to try again, holding the straw this time, before you could actually taste the drink.

Selfishly, you wished Red Riot had chosen a different chair. But he was entitled to sit anywhere he liked, and it was obvious he enjoyed this particular Starbucks. Judging by the familiarity with the employees, he was becoming a regular like yourself. You only came once or twice a week, but he probably got his drink fix more often than you did.

Hopefully he didn’t think you were stalking him.

Oh god, what if he thought you were stalking him? How would you show that you weren’t stalking him? Come on a different day? At a different time? But you were here first, this was your routine, and that was your chair!

But man, you really didn’t want to make the Pro-Hero uncomfortable - he’d probably had a few crazy fans who had stalked him before.

Sighing, you sipped slowly at your drink, pulling out your phone to look at memes and text a few to your friends. You could still go about your routine, even if you were sitting in a different spot.

----

You ran into him at the grocery store.

It was in the produce aisle, where you were trying to decide between red apples or green, weighing the pros-and-cons of each decision in your head. You probably looked like an idiot, standing in front of the apples and doing nothing but staring at them, but you needed to ignore that right now.

“Yo, Starbucks buddy!”

The shout rang out across the produce section, and you flinched, suddenly drawn out of your apple-selection process.

It was late, almost ten PM, who and why was shouting in the grocery store??

You weren’t one to turn and stare, but you were curious, and surely whoever shouted like that wouldn’t mind a few questioning looks thrown their way.

And so you glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see a bunch of teenage boys greeting each other, or maybe a man saying hi to his friend.

Red Riot was excitedly waving at you.

Your brain blanked. Immediately, you turned your head, trying to see if there was someone else he was waving at. But there was no one around you - hell, there wasn’t even anyone else in the produce section except for you and the hero.

So he had to be waving at you.

Turning your whole body this time, you gave an awkward imitation of his wave, and let out a soft, croaky “Hey…” as the big man walked closer.

He had a big dumb smile on his big dumb face, and as he reached you, it grew even wider.

“Starbucks buddy! I didn’t mean to make you flinch, my bad. I know I can get a little loud sometimes, haha.” He stopped right in front of you, a grocery basket filled to the brim with meat and a few vegetables clutched on one of his large hands. God, he was so strong, you would be struggling to carry such a heavy basket, and here he was lugging it around like it had nothing but a loaf of bread in it. Red Riot could probably squish your skull to a pulp with just his hand, goddamn he was big.

You shrugged at his words, desperately willing your brain to work and to think of something smart and eloquent and good-to-say. “It’s uh, it’s-it’s fine. I’m just y’know, one of those nervous people, y’know?”

Wow.

Good job brain.

But the Pro-Hero smiled gently, putting his basket down on the ground.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

Wait, what?

“I’ve seen you a couple times at Starbucks, the one on Grant and 1st. You always seem… well, nervous whenever I see you. At first I just thought it was because I was there, cause y’know, people have different reactions to seeing heros out in public.”

Your eyes were big, you felt your face erupt in an embarrassed fire, and your hands were fucking sweaty. Why couldn’t you have been born like, a blade of grass? A tree? Some non-sentient object that didn’t have to worry about thoughts or talking or how other people perceived it?

Red Riot continued, “But I’ve seen you a couple of other times; once on the subway, a few times at that park on the north side of town, haha, you really get around, dont’cha?”

Ah yes, now would be a good time for something to happen, like a plane to crash into the building and kill both of you instantly. Or some emergency that required his immediate attention, one that was so big and urgent that he would forget about you instantly.

His red eyes were drawn to your leg, which you were subconsciously wiggling like a toddler. His eyes softened, and his voice lowered an octave. “You always seem a bit… anxious. And I know that feeling, believe it or not. I used to be really insecure and nervous when I was younger-“

Oh, great. Now he was just calling attention to the fact that you were acting like a fucking child, that you were a fully-grown adult that couldn’t handle being out in the world because it was too nerve-wracking. Were you really that easy to read?

“-but I had some awesome people to help me through it. My moms were always really supportive, and they took such great care of me. It was rough for a little bit, but I learned how to be confident and how to strut my stuff and it’s helped me to help others. It’s sorta why I became a hero, actually.”

You smiled again, nodding. That made sense - each and every hero had a reason for why they wanted to help the general public, and of course Red Riot’s reason would be pure and inspiring.

“But uh, anyways! I just saw you shopping and thought I’d say hi to my Starbucks buddy. I was hoping you’d come and sit by me the other day, when I sat in the place you usually sit? But I understand that it’s sorta intimidating to approach a hero, even one in civilian clothing.”

Shoot, so he’d wanted you to sit by him that day? And here you were thinking that he had unintentionally commandeered your seat and was just trying to be left alone. God, you were so stupid.

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry!” You stuttered out, face hotter than the actual sun. “I didn’t realize! I figured you always have people trying to get an autograph or a picture and you probably just want privacy, and I thought that maybe you just wanted to sit there and hadn’t gotten a chance to because I always sit there, which honestly that’s such a selfish thing for me to do - I should probably try to vary the places I sit so I don’t like-“

“Ah, don’t worry about it! You’re fine, okay? Trust me.” Red Riot patted your shoulder (yup, he could definite squeeze your head like a grape), before leaning down to grab his basket off the floor.

“Oh, well uhm, t-thank you, Mr. Red Riot” You resisted the urge to bow.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed, looking slightly surprised, “Call me Kirishima, none of that “Red Riot” stuff, alright?”

Confusion overtook you. “Uh, that’s only for your friends, civilians should respect the heros and call them by their chosen names.” At least, that’s what you had always been told.

But Red Riot just grinned. “Well, what’s your name?”

With a slight shake in your voice, you told him.

“I know your name now, so I officially deem the two of us as friends!” With his free hand, he patted you on the shoulder again. You shivered, and Red Ri-Kirishima seemed to notice.

“You alright (Y/N)? Didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”

“No, no… I’m just… kinda weird about touch I guess.” That was an understatement. You were so incredibly sensitive, every light touch felt searing, hugs always were too much sensation, you shuddered even thinking about cuddling - you were just too sensitive to touch.

Red-Kirishima stepped back, holding his hand up apologetically. “Oops, my bad. I kinda noticed that about you too, I should’ve remembered.”

At your questioning glance, the man hurried to continue. “Well, y’know, I saw that couple bump into you on the subway, and you looked like you were gonna cry. And then, like, at Starbucks you make an effort to not touch the barista’s hands when they give you your change.”

Great, so that was another thing you were obvious and weird about. Just great. You felt embarrassed that Kirishima had noticed that about you so easily, but you guessed being observant was part of his job.

“Well, I’m gonna go check out now, unless you need help with your groceries?” The man motioned to your barely-filled basket, and you shook your head.

“No, it’s-it’s okay. I can handle this, but thank you.”

Kirishima gave you a thumbs up. “Alright, sounds good. Although, are you planning on walking home?”

You shook your head yes, prepared to receive the “its not safe” talk. You knew it wasn’t safe, but it was just a few blocks, and you had made the walk to your apartment a million times, plus, you couldn’t afford to pay for an uber or a cab.

“It’s pretty dark out there, mind if I walk you home? I’m a hero and all, I promise I’m not going to try and steal your wallet.”

And there it was. For someone as nervous as yourself, walking alone in the dark really was no issue. Maybe it’s cause you weren’t afraid of someone trying to hurt you. You looked poor, you were ugly as fuck, and it was only a couple of blocks.

‘It’s okay Mr. R-Kirishima, I don’t mind. I’ll probably be here for a bit longer, don’t worry about me.”

He probably had other things to tend to, and even if he didn’t, you weren’t important enough to make a Pro-Hero go out of his way to walk you home. You were such an inconvenience already, it would just make you feel worse about yourself. And would you have to make small talk as the two of you walked?

Would he try and insist upon carrying your groceries? Would he want to walk up to your apartment floor with you? Or would he say goodbye in the lobby? Once again, best to just avoid the situation altogether.

Plus, you knew the hero was just trying to be polite. He probably didn’t actually want to walk you home.

Kirishima tried to offer again, but you turned him down, shaking your head, self-consciously drawing your shoulders up. You probably looked so stupid, like a scared little dog that had gotten yelled at. But it was a nervous reaction, and it felt better than just trying to stand there like a block.

Kirishima smiled gently, told you to have a safe night, and then left to go check out.

You turned back to the apples, trying to focus back on which color you should get, stuck between red, or green.

----

The next time you visited Starbucks, your regular spot was once again empty. It was almost a relief, seeing that you wouldn’t have to figure out if Kirishima wanted to talk today or not, if he wanted you to sit by him, or if he was just trying to make small talk back at the grocery store.

So you settled in, warm hot chocolate in hand as you looked out the window, watched cars whiz by on the street, rain puttering down softly.

And then Kirishima was bursting through the door, sending the door bell jingling in a frenzy, rain patterned heavily over his jean jacket, His eyes immediately found you, and his face lit up in a smile.

“(Y/N)!!!!”

You gave a little wave, watching as Kirishima smiled cheerily at you, before quickly ordering a drink. Immediately, the muscled redhead came to sit down in the armchair opposite you, panting a little bit.

“Wooo, I had to run here, started raining on me!”

“I can tell.” You let out a small laugh, noticing how his spiky hair was drooping from getting rained on.

“Glad to see you got home okay the other night.” The male blurted, leaning forward so he could strip off his jacket.

You paused. “What do you mean?”

He flashed you a grin, throwing his jacket over the back of the chair. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Ah, he had a point.

His name was called, and Kirishima jumped up and went to pick up his drink before plopping back down in the armchair with a sigh.

“So, (Y/N), you ever been to the ocean before? All this water, the streets might be an ocean by the time we leave.”

Kirishima proceeded to launch into a story about the time he went to the ocean with his buddy Bakugou, how they had swam with turtles and even got to see a whale.

You were glad he was doing all the talking, letting you sit back and listen while you sipped at your hot cocoa. There was no pressure for you to talk, no pressure for you to try and fumble for the right words. And it was nice, seeing the big hero be so excited and animated, gesturing with his hands and almost spilling his drink all over himself.

As you listened to him talk, you settled back further into the armchair contentedly. He was a nice person to be around, you could see yourself being friends with him, if he didn’t mind.

——

And friends you did become.

It wasn’t long before the two of you exchanged numbers - Kirishima had wanted to send you a picture of a dog he had seen the other day while he was out patrolling.

The two of you texted memes to each other, cute pictures of animals, and even though your anxiety was loud and demanding and convinced you that you were bothering the man, Kirishima always assured you that was never the case.

He always seemed to be able to tell when you were feeling anxious, when nervousness settled deep in your bones and refused to leave. You slowly began to notice that with Kirishima, your anxiety was quieter. It was easy to let the exuberant man to take the lead, for him to make decisions, whether to walk up and ask to pet the cute dog or not. It was freeing in a way, letting your new friend take your anxiety and make it be quiet.

After all, no one gave you a second glance, now that you were trailing behind Pro-Hero Red Riot.

Kirishima was such a character, goofy, cheerful, and always sporting a sunny disposition. His casual fashion consisted of the most god-awful color combinations and mixed patterns. It wasn’t uncommon for the man to bounce towards you in greeting, wearing neon green crocs, dark blue overalls that were plaid, and a head-ache inducing black-and-white psychedelic shirt. Somehow he made it all work, and didn’t look odd or out of place.

You admired him, truly. You wished you could have his confidence, his attitude and bouncy personality. If you had confidence like that, you could probably do anything. As it stood right now, you could barely approach someone on the street and ask to pet their dog.

It had been so embarrassing, walking with Kirishima down the street and listening to him talk between gulps of a bright pink slushy. You spotted a woman walking a dog on the other side of the street, a big dog, fluffy and sweet-looking and happily walking along it’s owner, stopping to sniff at each plant that grew in the cracks of the sidewalk.

“Cute, I wish I could pet that dog.” You interrupted Kiri’s story, gazing wistfully at the dog.

Kirishima paused, swiveling his head to see what dog you were talking about. Once he did, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hand. “Lets go pet it then!” But when he tried to pull you forward, you balked, pulling your wrist backward.

“I-I can’t, it’s….. I don’t know, It’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, studying you as he took another slow sip of his slushy. You had your own slushy, a significantly smaller size than the beefy Pro-Hero’s own giant cup.

“(Y/N), it’s okay - I’ll do all the talking, ‘kay?”

He could tell that the thought of talking to the owner, asking to pet their dog, was making you nervous. What if they said no? What if they thought you were being rude? Would the dog not like you? Would the owner think you looked funny? What if they were hurrying somewhere?

But if Kirishima did all the talking….. maybe you could manage trailing behind him, only emerging from his shadow if the owner said yes to petting their dog.

You gave the big man a weak smile, nodding gingerly before getting yanked forward, Kirishima already speed-walking towards the lady.

He asked, the lady said yes - you got to pet the absolute cutest dog ever. It was heaven.

You were grateful for Kirishima - shyly told him as much. If you were by yourself, you would have noticed the cute dog, but done nothing about it, just wished you had the courage to approach and ask if you could pet it.

But with Kiri? He made anything possible.

----

You were worried you were annoying him.

There was no evidence, but still, wouldn’t it be annoying to have an anxious little shadow? One that shook and stuttered and could barely go to the grocery store without freaking out and having a panic attack? Your fears and feelings weren’t entirely unfounded, I mean, there were millions upon millions of possible outcomes of any one action. Unfortunately, your brain liked to focus only on the negative options.

But Kirishima never got tired, never got frustrated with you. He didn’t mind ordering for the both of you when you got snacks at a fast-food place during long afternoons. He didn’t mind taking up extra space with his personality, being loud and brash and drawing attention to himself when you felt like everyone was watching you, waiting for you to make a stupid mistake.

Kiri seemed to like walking you home, helped you check your windows and in the closet and under the bed (not for people, but what if there was some eldritch monster that lurked just out of sight?). He never made fun of you for your feelings or fears, just gently listened and then tried to help you deal with them.

He even got you to be somewhat comfortable with making silly little mistakes in public. One time the man tripped on thin air, spilling warm coffee all over you and himself. Immediately he burst out laughing at his own clumsiness, apologizing between giggles as he heaved himself off the floor and went to go grab napkins.

If you had spilled a drink on him and yourself, you would’ve been asking Siri where the nearest cliff was. But you realized, the same way that you weren’t worried, and how it wasn’t that big of a problem that your shirt was now soaked with sweet coffee and sticking to your skin, Kirishima probably wouldn’t care if you spilled anything on him.

After all, it was an honest mistake.

The big man was helping you to learn how to be more comfortable in the world. But still, the creeping suspicion that he was just being kind to you out of sheer politeness was forefront in your mind.

So you came up with a question, practiced asking it in the mirror, took several days to build up your confidence to ask Kirishima.

“Do you actually want to be friends with me?”

And sure, that might be a forward question. But you valued honesty, had told him so a few times when he asked you to rate his outfit on a scale from 1-10 (usually it was a solid 10 - his personality making the outfit shine) you tried not to lie to others, and expected the same courtesy from them.

The two of you were in the park, resting on one of the benches after walking around and looking at the different plants (one of your favorite activities, no matter how lame). And now was as good a time as ever, so you popped the question, barely stuttering once.

Kirishima was silent for a bit, and you were almost afraid of looking up at him. The truth would come out now - how he just saw a pathetic little civilian and felt so much pity for them that he decided to be their friend. You were just a burden to him, how could you ever be anything else?

When you dared to look up at the big redhead, the intensity in his gaze had you leaning towards the side nervously, away from the strength of all his attention focused on you.

“(Y/N)…. becoming friends with you was - it’s been the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.” His voice held such sincerity, his face open and honest. You recoiled from the statement, uncomfortable with the compliment. That had to be a lie, he was just saying that to make you feel better. You were so pathetic and weak that other people had to pretend that you were better than you actually were to avoid hurting your feelings. You wished you never existed. Why did you even ask him that question in the first place? There was no way that someone as nice as Kirishima would actually tell you how worthless and pitiful you were.

Large hands grabbed your own, and you jumped. Kirishima’s hands were warm, scarred and calloused, yet soft in their grip as they gently squeezed your own hands. You tried not to flinch at the contact.

“I know that you don’t believe me, but you should. You know-“ One of his hands went to run through his hair, tousling through it’s straight, un-gelled style, before returning to your hand. “-I was pretty lonely before I met you. Like, I had my squad - Bakugou and Mina and Denki and Sero…. But it just….. There was something missing.”

Kirishima leaned close to you, your sides pressing together, his red eyes trying to catch your own. You were too shy, had to look off to the side.

“There was someone missing. And when I saw you, it felt…. Everything just clicked. I was missing you.”

You could feel his breath fanning against the side of your flaming hot face. It was uncomfortable. He was lying, he had to be. He was just trying to help you be confident in yourself, so he wouldn’t have to baby you and hold your hand and help you do simple things like ordering food or going for walks and not worrying about what people thought of you.

He was just being nice.

For some reason, you felt your throat clog up, felt the spicy sting of tears building up. Why did you feel like crying? You weren’t exactly in tune with any of your other emotions, only paid attention if it was anxiety or fear.

A thumb rubbed over your knuckles soothingly (it burned), and the next thing you knew you were being enveloped in a bear hug, Kirishima’s arms crushing you into his chest, his pecs pressing against your face.

Goddamn, he was built as fuck.

You tried to keep still, not squirm away from his touch like a child. You were an adult, you could handle a little bit of discomfort over being touched.

Kiri sighed. “I like being around you (Y/N). You don’t judge me for my mistakes, you accept them - you accept me. You uh, you make me happy dude, like, really happy.”

You chuckled a little bit at the redheads use of the word “dude”. Only a meathead could turn a sappy moment on it’s head by using the word “dude”. Still, you liked the way Kirishima talked, from the excited chatter when he was talking about something he liked, to the slow, comforting honey when he was being sincere and intimate, like now.

At the same time, your heart felt tight, waiting for the inevitable but that was sure to come. For the redhead to explain that he enjoyed your company but he was just being polite to a nervous civilian who couldn’t fend for themselves. You fun to hang out with but it was only because you made him look better, cooler and manlier because he was nice to someone as pathetic as you.

The but never came. You waited and waited, but Kirishima just kept the slow rhythm of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, kept your face pressed into his chest and an arm wrapped around your body. You didn’t know what to do.

Should you pull back? Your throat felt tight again. Kirishima was lying to you, he had to be. There wasn’t any way that someone would actually enjoy you as a person.

You pulled back from the warmth of his body, pulled your hand away from his. “I don’t….. I want honesty Kirishima. Please? Lies hurt more than the truth, please. I’m not a good person, I’m pathetic and nervous and shy, and I’m too loud sometimes, and my body looks weird, and I’m ugly and disgusting, and-“

“(Y/N), stop.” His voice thundered, cutting you off. Immediately, you fell silent, chest tightening, gaze falling to your lap. He was right. He didn’t need to hear all your insecurities, they were already clear to see. You were such a drag on his life, he probably hated having to deal with you, having to see you.

“Kiri, I’m not uhm-“ Your voice was wavering. “-I’m not feeling so great, I think I’m gonna head home.”

As you stood, so did the redhead. “Please don’t feel obligated to walk me home, I know it’s way out of your way.” He probably hated every second of it, probably insisted just to be polite. Even now, Kirishima was beginning to protest, grabbing at your hand. You pulled back, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Kiri, please.” You whispered, tears threatening to fall. You hated yourself. You hated yourself so much, your chest hurt, your ears felt full, everything felt too heavy and bad - there weren’t even any words to explain it. You just wanted to go home and cry, sob into a pillow.

Kirishima stayed put, probably watching you walk away from the park. God, you hoped he wasn’t, you walked so weirdly. Why couldn’t you just disappear?

——

You tried your best to disappear.

You did the bare minimum, turning in assignments an hour before they were due, half-assing them. You hardly ventured out of your room, only to grab water or to use the bathroom.

Neighbors kept knocking on your door, probably the couple in the apartment opposite you, asking for a cup of sugar so they could make cookies, or wanting to tell you that your mail downstairs was getting full. But being the person you were, you were far too nervous to go answer the door. You were probably annoying people. It would just be better for the world if you weren’t in it, wouldn’t it?

Kirishima kept trying to text you, call you (Even though he knew you couldn’t pick up - calls terrified you), trying to coax you to go on a walk with him, to come get coffee or a slushie with him when he finished working. You brushed him off with lame excuses, telling him you were sick, backtracking when he said he was coming over with soup and movies. You didn’t feel well enough for company.

Still, the man kept texting you several times a day, then only a few times, and now it was down to just once a day. In one corner of your mind, it hurt. The rest of your mind knew that it was for the best, knew that his life was going to be better because you weren’t going to be there bothering him.

His texts consisted of simple messages now, ones you felt bad not responding to, but if you did respond, you hated yourself for the rest of the day. You sucked.

“(Y/N), look at this dog!” *IMAGE ATTACHED*

Cute.

“Yo, you wanna come get something to drink at our place? They have a deal on coffee today!”

Sorry Kiri, I’m not feeling too good today. You should go get a drink though, have fun!

“I saw some people rollerskating in the park, we should try that!”

Yeah.

“Would you wanna go for a walk sometime?”

I don’t think so, I’m pretty busy right now. You should go and get sunshine though, you deserve it!

“We need to go to our Starbucks soon, I need COFFEE haha”

“Gonna ever come see where I work? I can show you my office, it’s super cool!”

“(Y/N), you doing okay?”

“I miss you.”

----

You woke up to the sound of your neighbors (or maybe the complex manager?) knocking on your door. Anxiety filled you, palms immediately becoming clammy, so you fumbled around your bed, searching for your earbuds. Maybe if you could listen to music, you could calm down? Sometimes that worked, sometimes not. It really depended on how worked up you were.

Luckily you found them, quickly stuffing them in your ears as you queued music up on your phone. The knocking faded out as music filled your ears, but your anxiety still persisted. You curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow to your chest, almost on the verge of tears from nothing more than a few knocks at your door. You were such a burden to society.

It took a minute, but your heart stopped racing, palms stopped sweating, and you fell back asleep. You were so tired of being awake.

----

You awoke a second time to hands carding gently through your hair. It felt weird for a brief second, but you just ignored the feeling - until you remembered that you lived alone, and the front door was supposed to be locked.

Squeaking in panic, you shot up, eyes wide, scrambling back into the corner of your bed, clutching the blanket to your chest.

Kirishima blinked at you, hand still hovering over where your he’d had previously been. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes off, bare feet on the floor.

Your eyes were still wide with fear, chest heaving with panic, but you managed to rip out your earbuds. “Kirishima? How-how did you get in?!? What are you….” You trailed off, tugging your blanket closer around your body as you realized that you were in your pajamas. They weren’t provocative, nor exposed any skin, but they drowned your form, were probably stained and most likely dirty, and you definitely looked awful. But back to the issue at hand, how did Kiri get in your apartment?

The man in question gave a dorky little wave, lips quirking up ever so slightly.

“(Y/N), hey! I haven’t seen you in so long!” He paused for a second, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious. “I missed you… I was kinda worried.”

“But how are you- I mean…. inside?” You stuttered, completely flustered.

“Oh, I talked to the complex manager, said I was a family member who was really worried about you. Showed him how you haven’t been answering my texts…. I was really worried (Y/N). You were giving such weird replies to my texts, and then you stopped answering completely, and no one answered the door whenever I knocked.”

Wait, that was him knocking? All those times?

You were going to jump out the window.

“Kiri… I didn’t mean to worry you, I just… You shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Why not? I care about you, I… I wanted to see you.”

It was time to be honest, say the things that were painful to say. The truths that hurt your heart, but needed to be said. Otherwise, Kirishima just wouldn’t get it.

“Kiri, I’m not-I’m not worth your worry. I don’t deserve it. I’m a nervous, depressed wreck, who can’t even open a door or answer the phone. You’re-you’re being nice to me cause you’re a good person. I don’t think I should be… well, like, around you. I just-I bring you down, and you have to do stuff for me and reassure me and I’m such a burden. Please just, I don’t know, please just don’t give me any more attention. I’m so stupid and gross and you should be friends with someone who isn’t….. isn’t like me.”

You finished your rant, almost breathless, choked up, feeling ready to cry.

Silence reigned between the two of you, everything quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic clicking of your fan.

It was uncomfortable. But you’d said your piece. It’d be weird if you said anything else, right? Should you say something else? Was he going to hate you for wasting his time? Holy crap, Kirishima is gonna hate you for wasting his time, for not telling him that at the beginning, when he first got to know you.

“(Y/N)-“ The sound of Kirishima’s soft, low voice made your head snap up, up to his face. He was looking at you, red eyes dark and large and filled with… pity? Sadness? “-I don’t even know how to tell you how wrong you are about that.”

The blanket shrouding your body was quickly pulled away, Kirishima discarding it to the side so he could shuffle closer to you, wrap you in one of his signature death-grip hugs. You were quickly pulled into his arms, the large man hunched over you as he squeezed you tight. It didn’t feel good. You wished he would remember that you didn’t like to be touched.

“I was pretty sure of my feelings before… well, before you asked if I wanted to be friends with you. And truthfully, I wasn’t exactly honest with you.” Your heart gave the tiniest squeeze. You knew he had been lying to you, but yeah, it did kinda hurt to hear him admit it.

“I kinda wanna be more than friends with you, actually.”

His hold on your body loosened, pulling back so he could look at your face. Your ugly, about-to-cry, gross face. You tried to turn away, pull out of his grip and find your blanket and crawl underneath it and stay there until you died. There was no way he was coming onto you - you weren’t good enough for him. He was Kirishima, Red Riot, pro hero, sunshine of the world, manliest and strongest guy out there.

And you were just….

You.

Kirishima didn’t let you move away. He grabbed your arms, pulled you up a bit so you were at his level. “I’m serious about this. I know you don’t believe me, all that anxiety and nervousness trying to lie to you, but….” A quick glance at his face showed the redhead to be blushing. “I’ve wanted to be more than friends from the moment I first saw you.”

Exasperated, almost angry at this point (he was lying), you scoffed, wiggling in his grip to signal that you wanted to let go.

“Kiri, I held a door open for you, it was nothing special. I’m ugly and lame and I panic over the slightest things, stop lying to me and saying that I’m someone worth your time.” Surprised, Kirishima loosened his grasp on your arms, and you moved away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I could never be worth your time.”

Was silence becoming a trend between the two of you? Apparently, because Kirishima didn’t say anything, just crawled over and sat down next to you. The big man was hardly ever silent, always talking about this, that, or the other. You were just a pro at messing things up, weren’t you?

A moment longer of sitting awkwardly in silence. You couldn’t take it anymore, you wanted to be able to cry about your shameful existence in peace, without having to entertain Kiri’s pity and lies.

“Can you….. Can you-you go…. Please?” You whispered, hugging your arms around your body. Oh yeah, you had forgotten you were in your gross, oversized pajamas. Just another thing for you to feel bad about.

Kirishima didn’t move.

Afraid he hadn’t heard you, you turned bright red, what an idiot - you can’t even speak loud enough to be heard. You stuttered as you started to repeat your request, but Kirishima cut you off.

“Why can’t you see?” He turned to you. “You’re the most lovely thing, I want to be around you all the time. Why can’t you see that you’re the most wonderful person in the world?”

Horrified, you reeled back. He was just pushing more lies. You felt so uncomfortable, you hated this, you wanted him to stop. “That’s-that’s just some fantasy Kiri…. I’m awful. Please, just go-“

“No.”

No? His voice sounded different, harsh and filled with authority. You looked at your feet, settled against the bare floor. You just wanted to sleep, and sleep, and never have to wake up. Why did being a human have to be so hard?

Might as well let the big redhead say his piece, make you feel worse about yourself. Then you could shove him out the door and spend the next week sobbing yourself sick.You felt bad, you couldn’t even explain your own emotions, put a name to this feeling that was painful and clawed at your chest like it was trying to rip you apart.

“You aren’t understanding me (Y/N). That’s no fantasy of mine - that’s reality.” A large hand grabbed your chin softly, turning your face towards Kiri’s. “Whenever I come up with a fantasy that involves you, I end up fucking my fist ’til I go raw.”

The admission made you stutter, and you hadn’t thought it was possible for you to blush harder, but here you were - twelve shades redder than the reddest tomato.

Kiri didn’t give you a chance to breathe. “I missed you so much, you don’t even realize. I could compliment you until I go blue in the face, but you’re so shy and nervous and adorable, you’d never, ever believe me.”

Well, that much was true. At least he knew you well.

“So instead, I’m just gonna show you how much you mean to me.”

Soft lips met your own, a hand fisting into your hair and twisting your head back to make kissing you easier for Kiri. You couldn’t even think, barely had presence of mind to push at the solid man, hitting his chest. You felt ugly, and gross, and stupid and weak, was this some sort of prank? This had to be some sort of prank. There’s no way Kirishima could actually be attracted to you.

Your mind was drawn to the present when a sharp blossom of pain emanated from your lip. Kiri pulled back, a single drop of blood running down his chin as he stared at you, your foreheads almost touching.

“Don’t get in your head, I want you here. Don’t think, just feel.”

You wanted to say something, to open your mouth and ask him again to leave. He shouldn’t be kissing you, he should be kissing someone prettier, stronger, someone who had their life together.

You wanted to protest, but you were being pushed onto your back on the bed, Kiri’s large, calloused hands grabbing at your limbs and bodily moving you however he saw fit despite your squirming.

“Kir-stop-stop touching! Don’t, please, I’m-I’m so gross-“

His lips were on yours again, swallowing your cries as he moved the two of you around on the small bed until you were splayed out underneath him. He was moving so quickly, with such confidence and self-assuredness that you couldn’t keep up. His hands were starting to squeeze at your waist, his thighs bracketing your own as the big man got comfortable over you, leaning down to avoid breaking the deep, passionate kiss.

Your lungs were burning.

You had to pull your face to the side, pushing at Kiri’s shoulders as you did so, making panicked noises as you tried (and failed) to take in air through your nose. How the hell was Kiri holding his breath this long?

The man finally got the hint, letting you pull away from him, gasping for air. You felt dizzy, his hands were still squeezing and stroking over your waist, it was too much. As you tried to get your breathing under control, you glanced up at your friend, red-faced, on the verge of tears. Why was he doing this? You were so gross, ugly, nothing when compared to how fit and muscular and handsome Kirishima was.

HIs eyes were dark, chin smeared red from the blood earlier - you bet your chin looked the same. His chest rose and fell rapidly, seemingly also out of breath, but the moment your eyes met his, the man was descending again, this time to press hot kisses all over your face, on your jaw, behind your ears.

“Don’t, oh, please don’t. Kiri-why are you-? Stop-“ You gasped, the sensations of his lips trailing across your skin too much for you to handle. A kiss to the column of your throat had you jolting, trying to sit up, not knowing what you were doing but trying to get away. It was too much.

“Lay back.” Kiri’s deep voice rumbled. “Let me make you feel good. You’ll forget about the anxiety, okay? Just focus on me.”

You didn’t want to focus on him. But at the same time, the situation was so overwhelming, you didn’t know what to do except let him push you back down with a hand on your chest.

Before you could process what happened, your clothes were off, his clothes gone as well. You wanted to shriek; cry and cover yourself and tell Kirishima to leave, but everything was happening too fast, and your body couldn’t keep up.

You felt floaty, buzzy, like you were in a weird dream, ears stopped up full of cotton.

Wet fingers prodded at your entrance. Oh, were they Kiri’s? When had they gotten wet? The fingers retracted, and you watched Kirishima gather the saliva in his mouth before spitting onto his hand.

Ah.

The fingers were back, one pushing into you, the pressure too deep, too tight, too harsh. You knew in the back of your mind that you probably looked so stupid, gasping and shivering and shaking, but you couldn’t control it.

One finger turned into two, then three, then four, and then they were gone, something much bigger trying to split you open.

You felt sick.

You couldn’t move.

Kirishima was kissing your face again, his touch burning, making your skin feel tingly and painful and rough everywhere he touched. It hurt. He was saying something, but your ears were buzzing, everything felt fuzzy and weird, and you didn’t know where to look, what to do, except lie there and let the man continue.

He was soft, gentle. But no amount of easy touches or reassuring words were getting through to you, just the overwhelming sensation of being too full, nausea thick in your stomach, throat closing up. The room tasted like blood.

The pressure wasn’t going away, just building and building and building as Kirishima thrust into you, until eventually a twinge of pleasure slipped into your system alongside the discomfort of being filled.

It felt weird… nice? You couldn’t tell anymore.

There was only sweat, slick, slapping noises, rough hands running over your skin, words being said. You couldn’t grasp anything.

You felt full, empty, all at the same time.

The pleasure built, higher and higher and higher until it burst into little sharp fragments that ran through your veins, zinging into your wrists, sparking through your tummy.

And then there was warmth inside you, and the part of you still lucid recognized that Kirishima had just cum inside your body.

You couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

----

Kirishima was laying beside you, making shushing sounds, stroking your hair, pulling the blanket up around the two of you. The pressure between your legs was gone, as was the stinging pleasure that had spilled all over your body. You couldn’t feel, everything was still too much, too loud and bright and rough and warm.

Kirishima was still stroking your hair as you finally calmed down, hyperventilating coming to a stop, shaking still there, but not as violent as it had been.

“-so strong, and your laugh always makes me happy. I love you, and I know you love me back. It’s gonna take some time for us to work past all this nervous stuff, but I’m not give up. I’ll always be here for you, you know that?”

He was rambling, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your neck, along your collarbone - innocent, reassuring. You closed your eyes.

“You need someone to be there for you, I know. You get so anxious, and you bottle up your feelings, and I know you get so scared of saying or doing the wrong thing and you just freeze or panic.” He continued. “You won’t ever have to worry about that with me. We worked around it today, yeah? You just relax, and let me lead. I’m never gonna steer you wrong (Y/N).”

You felt cold.

#yandere #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere boku no hero academia #kirishima #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #anxiety #tw noncon #tw dubcon #panic attack

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Even teachers can be stupid

Prompt number: 6 “that was impressive”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Chubby!Bucky x reader (teacher au)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k (this is a lot longer than I originally planned. Whoops.)

Warnings: Insecure Bucky/ self deprecation based on chub. Brock Rumlow being the grade a asshole that he is. Swearing.

A/N: I apparently only write for Bucky now, lmao. I think I liked this one more in my head.

Teaching high schoolers isn’t easy; trying to teach thirty plus rowdy students six times a day for forty-five minutes each is quite possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. As they say, the rewarding things are rarely easy. Each year you get one or two students that are truly affected by your teachings, inspiring them for life. And that makes all the late night grading and putting up with bad behavior worth it.

What helps you get through each painstakingly long day is the lunch break you share with your best friends, and fellow history teachers; Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steve teaches U.S. history, Bucky teaches world history, and you teach civics. Some days you talk about your students, others you talk about some tv show one of you watched the night before, and sometimes you each ask advice on questions for the tests you're writing.

“Peter Parker was attempting to flirt with MJ in the middle of my class today,” Bucky shares, making the three of you laugh. Peter Parker and MJ are both extremely smart, taking all three of your guys’ classes. Peter’s adorable, but you’ve seen how bad his flirting can be when he was into another student Liz a few years back.

“Are we surprised he was flirting?” Steve cackles at his own joke before he can even finish it. “Tony is his mentor after all.”

You and Bucky join Steve in his laughter, you glance at the brunette admiring the way his smile lights up his whole face and the cute jiggle the little bit of gut he has does. You can feel Steve’s knowing smirk as he notices your lovestruck gaze, he’s been teasing you relentlessly for the past two years about the feelings you so obviously have for his childhood best friend.

“What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N/N)?” Bucky asks, but before you can respond someone cuts in.

“She’s gonna be with me this weekend, tubby,” Brock smirks cockily, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“In your dreams Rumlow,” you grit out, removing his hand from your shoulder and scooting closer to Bucky.

Brock Rumlow; gym teacher, the office flirt per say, he grew up with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn and bullied the blonde the entire time they’ve known each other, and overall grade A asshole. He also clearly doesn’t understand the word no, you’ve rejected him at least twenty times in the two years he’s worked here with you and yet he never leaves you alone.

“You’re already in them gorgeous,” he winks at you, Bucky’s hands curl into fists under the table. He’s fighting the urge to finally let go and punch Brock in the face, like he did countless times growing up when he’d pick on Steve.

“You’re revolting,” you glare at him, turning to face Bucky you smile warmly at him. “I’m probably just going to grade some papers, drink some wine and eat some ice cream. Why, what’s up?”

“I well,” he eyes Brock, who’s hovering just behind you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

“Like a date?” your eyes light up with hope, reaching forward you grasp his forearm.

“Yeah,” he smiles bashfully at the floor, before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking Wanda’s on Saturday, I’ll meet you there at seven?”

“Perfect,” you beam at him, squeezing his arm lightly. “It’s a date.”

Bucky excuses himself not long after the interaction, needing to go make some copies before the next period. He gives your hand a quick squeeze with the parting words, “I’ll see you later, doll.” You grin like an idiot watching him leave the breakroom, Steve watching the both of you with a large grin.

“Well, that was impressive,” Brock takes Bucky’s recently abandoned seat, grabbing the legs of your chair and pulling you into his side. “I even believed you for a second, having the poor fat ass think you actually want to go out with him. You’re totally gonna stand him up, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you stand from your seat, Brock’s hold on the chair keeping you from moving it away.

You create a fist with your hand, hiding it behind your back so Brock doesn’t see how much he riled you up. You absolutely hate how he speaks about Bucky, focusing his attention on the few pounds Bucky’s gained over the years you’ve known him. Admittedly Bucky did have abs when you met him, having done boxing almost his entire life, but work started to swamp him and he couldn’t make it to the gym like he used to putting a few pounds on. But you like the little bit of chub more than the abs, there’s something undeniably hot with his body, especially when he’s confident in it.

“You think Sam would give him some exercises to do or something,” Sam Wilson, another gym teacher and fellow friend.

The legs to Steve’s chair screech as he stands and gets ready to lunge across the circular table. You put your hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from doing something he’ll regret, or at least keep him from doing something that’ll get him arrested. You glance at the door to the breakroom thinking you hear footsteps in the hallway, but no ones there when you look.

“Shut the fuck up Rumlow,” both men’s eyes widen at you, you’re normally calm and collected when he pisses you off. The few teachers in the room with you watch on quietly, some in awe that you’re finally going to tell the asshole off, and the rest just happy that someone will finally knock Brock down a few pegs. “I can handle your constant flirting when I’ve asked you multiple times to leave me alone. But I won’t sit here and let you be an ass to James. He’s the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever met, and I won’t allow you to say what you want about him unchecked. He makes you feel small-”

“Yeah, cause his gut is so fucking huge,” he laughs, looking around the room to find a colleague to agree with him but no one does.

“Shut. Up. Rumlow.” with each word you take a menacing step towards him. “You’re an ass to him because you know he’s better than you in every way. He’s kind, smart, sweet, thoughtful, and handsome. Everything you aren’t. So fuck off and leave his name out of your mouth. Or next time I won’t hold Stevie back, in fact I’ll join him in beating your ass.”

You’re about to leave when you notice Bucky left his travel mug on the table, grabbing it you head to the social studies office. Upon arriving you see that the copies Bucky needed to get are sitting on his desk, which is beside yours, but there’s no Bucky in sight. You let out a small sigh, you wanted to see him one last time before class starts.

At the end of the day Bucky isn’t waiting in the office for you and Steve like normal, instead his bag and jacket are missing from his desk. Maybe he’s nervous about the date, you think to yourself. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t be waiting for you. You try texting him a few times the rest of the night, only to be met with radio silence. You text Steve and ask him if he's heard from Bucky, and apparently he’s only receiving one word answers.

The next day you start getting ready for your date at three in the afternoon, it’s way too early but you want to look perfect for him. You spend an hour and a half trying to figure out your hair, an hour on your makeup, and two hours trying on every single thing in your closet. You finally settle on a lace royal blue dress, it has a v-neck and cap sleeves. It’s Bucky’s favorite color.

You leave your house at six thirty, arriving at Wanda’s a little early. But you don’t care if you seem eager, because you are. You finally get to go out with James! Bucky’s never late, so when seven comes and goes and he’s not there you’re shocked. You sit at your table like a fool until eight-thirty, the hostess and your waiter giving you looks of pity. James stood you up.

You spend the rest of the weekend sulking and eating lots of ice cream. You fall further behind on your grading but you don’t care, Bucky hasn’t reached out to you. You refuse to text or call first, expecting him to call and apologize profusely and say there was some mix up. But he doesn’t and he won’t.

You arrive at work on Monday right before first period starts, you know it’s unprofessional but you don’t know if you can face Bucky yet. When third period rolls around, which you have off, you head to Steve’s room to talk to him. His students are taking a test that period, so you know he can step away. You lightly knock on the door, opening it so you’re half in the room and half in the hall.

“Sorry for interrupting you guys, you smile at his students who looked up from their test to see who was at the door. “I need to borrow Mr. Rogers for a minute.”

“Get back to work,” he tells his students, though his gaze remains on you. “And eyes on your own paper Flash.” You step back into the hall, Steve soon joining you and shutting the door so no nosey student can over hear.

“Have you talked to Bucky?” you ask him nervously.

“That’s why you pulled me out of class?” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and leans on a set of lockers. “To talk about your date?”

“He stood me up Steve,” tears start to make their way to the surface, you thought you had cried all of your tears this weekend, but apparently not.

“What?” Steve’s in shock, he can’t believe that Bucky would do that. “There has to have been some mistake.”

“I looked like an idiot!” you whisper shout, mindful that Bucky’s classroom is next to Steve’s. “I was sitting there waiting for an hour and a half before the pity from the employees became too much to handle and I went home. He never called me, never texted. Stevie, I don't know what I did.”

The talking in Bucky’s classroom stops, footsteps growing near the door. Bucky opens it a crack, but you can’t bear seeing him so you stare at your feet and the gross linoleum under them. He tells his students to read ahead without him, stepping out and shutting his door behind him.

“I thought I heard voices out here, did you two need something?” Steve’s brows furrow at how cold Bucky’s being, he usually loves when you interrupt him and his class.

“No,” Steve says slowly, glancing between the two of you.

“Anyway, thanks for the help Steve,” you force a fake smile. “I should get back to the office and grade some papers I didn’t get to this weekend.”

“(Y/N/N)!” the blonde calls quietly after you, turning to Bucky with a small frown. “What the hell were you thinking standing her up?”

“I didn’t stand her up, she stood me up,” Bucky glares down at the tiles.

“What are you talking about?” Steve can’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his best friend's mouth. “She waited over an hour for you to show, Buck. And you never did.”

“Why would she want to date me?” he gestures to himself, eyes lingering on his own gut. “I heard Rumlow say it was fake and she was going to stand me up.”

“And you believed that?” Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “She threatened to beat his ass for talking shit about you Buck. you need to fix this, she’s crushed.”

Steve walks back into his classroom, leaving Bucky alone in the hall with his racing thoughts. He has to make it up to you! How could he hurt you? How could he believe anything Rumlow said? This goes to show that even teachers can be stupid. You’re his best girl and he hurt you, how’s he supposed to make it up to you?

You and Steve sit quietly in the breakroom at lunch, he’s eating and you’re trying to make some headway in your grading. Bucky hasn’t come to lunch yet, you’d love to say you haven’t noticed, but you're painfully aware of the empty seat to your right, the one Bucky always occupies. You write a big fat C in red ink on the essay you just read, it should be a C- but Ned is a smart kid and you don’t want to drop his GPA even more because of one poorly written paper.

A body slumps in the chair beside you, you ignore it assuming it’s Brock. You don’t have the energy for him and his bullshit today. A cheesy heart shaped box of chocolates is set onto the essay you just started reading. You finally look up and see a frazzled looking Bucky in his seat, He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a nervous grin on his face.

“I fucked up-” he starts.

“You don’t say,” you move the box of chocolates off the paper to start reading it again.

“I overheard Brock the other day saying you were going to stand me up,” he rushes out, your gaze meeting his as he continues. A proud smile on his face about the next sentence, “Steve already told me that you threatened to beat Rumlow up for me. But that’s not the point. I thought you were going to stand me up, so I didn’t want to give you that satisfaction so I never showed up.”

“Why would I stand you up?” you ask slowly, eyeing the flower stems you fear he may crush out of nerves.

“Because I look like this,” he admits quietly, using the flowers to gesture to his slightly protruding belly.

“I love how you look Bucky,” you grab the flowers and set them on the table, grabbing both his hands in yours. “It’s incredibly sexy, you’re sexy. Especially when your sleeves are rolled up and your tie is loosened. I love you James, your personality makes it impossible not to.”

“You love me?” he lets go of one hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek.

“Of course I do,” Steve leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face, his best friends finally got their shit together.

“Let me make it up to you tonight! I can make us dinner and we can stay in. Or I can take you anywhere you want to go. We can go bowling, or see a movie-”

While his rambling is adorable, you cut him off with a soft kiss. It’s not as long or as passionate as either of you would like, but you have an audience of coworkers and you don’t want to get carried away. Brock stomps out of the breakroom like a child when he sees you and Bucky.

“I love you too, doll,” Bucky admits dreamily.

permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years

Text

PRINCE OF DAXAMITE

Mon El x Reader

WARNINGS: smut, non-con/dub-con, vaginal sex, brief oral sex (f receiving)

WORD COUNT: 1696

Imagine being a peasant going to Mon El's birthday celebration back on Daxamite so you can cause a riot but he takes interest in you.

The upbeat music filled my ears as I stepped through the doors of the hall, my dress brushing my ankles. I glanced around and spotted a table with an assortment of food laid out and headed straight for it, ready to eat and ignore anyone that tried to talk to me. You see, I hated the ways of my people, on Daxamite all they did was party, but I knew it was to mask what was really happening. While the wealthy gorged themselves on expensive alcohols and rich foods the poor were left to starve in the streets, lucky to get even a sip of water a day. I was one of those poor people, but I managed to clean myself up enough to get a job with the royal tailor because of my talents with a needle and thread. I'd spent the last week making my dress for this ball, a ball which I was planning to use to make a fuss and cause a riot. Me and some peasants were planning it - ready to revolt.

I started to shove food in my mouth, seeing as I'd probably never eat this much food again in my life. Just as I was a about to pop another strawberry tart in my mouth a felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned around and quickly swallowed what I was chewing, coming face-to-face with the prince. Great. I was kind of hoping to avoid any royals but oh well.

"Is there a reason a lady as beautiful as yourself is alone tonight?" He said with a slight smirk. I gave him a fake smile and came up with the most condescending thing I could.

"Because I don't like jackasses or narcissistic princes." And I walked off, leaving him stood there smiling (probably at the thought of getting to chase me around all evening).

About half an hour later I was happy to say that the prince hadn't made any advances on me, but I had noticed him eyeing me from across the large hall several times. I scanned the room for him but couldn't see him anywhere, confusing crossing my face. Where was he? Just as I was about to go back to eating all the food I felt a breath on the back of my neck. I turned my head to the side to see him, his hands hovering over my waist.

"Miss me yet?" He whispered, sending a shiver of fear and excitement down my spine. No. I was here to revolt against him, not have a 'good time' with him. I shook my head and turned around.

"Look, asshole, I don't give a crap who you are, get your greedy hands off me and grope some other girl who's rich and bowing at your feet." I spat before trying to walk off. Before I could get far, he grabbed my wrist and spoke down at me.

"My name is Mon El and I'm your prince. It'd do you well to show me a little respect." He hissed in my ear, before I yanked my arm from his grasp and disappeared into the crowd of dancing people. I got as far away from him as I could, moving over to the agreed window to give the signal for the riot to start.

As I begun to peer out the already open window, looking for my friend, I felt a hand wrap firmly around my upper arm and drag me away.

"Let me go!" I shouted as I was pulled into an empty hallway and shoved against a wall. Mon El pinned my wrist behind my back with one hand, using his hips to pin my front to the wall. "Get off me you-" I was cut off my him tugging my hair back so he could whisper in my ear.

"If you insult me again, you'll find out exactly what I want to do with that sharp little tongue of yours." He whispered venomously, looking me in the eye. "And I know why you're here, your friend you were looking for is already in custody." I gulped and stifled tears, knowing this would probably end with all our heads on pikes. "My parents wanted to throw you in a cell too, but I convinced them to let me have my way with you instead." He continued, before letting go of my hair and dragging me up some stairs.

He pushed me into a big room with a four-poster bed, a desk with some papers littered on it and some big double doors leading to a balcony in it. The door slammed behind us and I heard the click of a lock.

The look he had in his eyes when he turned back around could only be described as one of lust, rage and want. And that both scared and excited me.

“Fuckin’ whore.” Mon El spat, cornering me and gripping my jaw and in a tight hold, tilting my head back so my eyes met his. “Just begging to be punished, huh?” He spat and I gulped. He roughly let go of me and my head hung low. “Maybe next time you’ll think of the consequences before trying to turn my own people against me.”

With that, he yanked me to my feet, tossing me to the bed and swiftly removing my clothes. I struggled against him, writhing out of his grip but he simply slapped my across the face and told me he’d do worse if I didn’t lay still for him. Once my dress and underwear was gone he chained my wrists and ankles with heavy links of metal to the four post of his super-king sized bed - so I was spread eagle and open for him, at his mercy to do as he pleased.

I winced at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, the rest of his clothes following shortly. He claimed over me, straddling my hips and fisting his cock in his hand, stroking himself lazily and he ran a finger through my folds. A gasp escaped me as he spat onto my clit, a shiver running through me at the sensation.

“Don’t worry, slut, I’ll give you what you need.” He cooed in my ear when a moan escaped me, his teeth nipping at my ear-lobe. Mon El lined himself up with my core, running his mushroom head up to my clit and back again before sheathing himself in one, painful thrust that send me screaming.

“Fuck, you’re right. Let’s see how your little pussy can take me.” He groaned as he begun to piston his hips, his length deeper inside me than I explained. As his top struck my cervix I cried out, hands balling into fists and arms tugging at the chains hopelessly. My moans were silenced slightly when I felt his long fingers wrap around my throat, applying enough pressure to have me struggling for breath with every pump of his cock.

When his thumb connected with my clit I felt my orgasm reluctantly crashing down on me, a smirk spreading across Mon El’s face as my walls clamped down on him with a vice grip.

“And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any fucking tighter.” He chuckled, fake-pouting at my fucked out expression. “Awh, did you think I’d really only get one? You filthy slut. I want to see how many I can get out of you...” he trailed off with a moan as my walls fluttered at his words. My cheeks reddened with a blush at my shame: how could his words be turning me on? Another release came crashing over me, a loud moan tearing from my throat.

“P-please.” I choked out.

“Please what?” He said in a locking tone, amusement lacing his features.

“Please slow down.” I gasped and he raised a brow.

“Like this?” He challenged, snapping his hips into mine with so much force be head was banging into the headboard with every thrust. His pace picked up, too, if that was even possible.

“It’s t-too much!” I screamed out as a third orgasm ripped through me.

“Really sweetheart? Because you tight McIntyre is telling me otherwise. Clamping down on me so hard, milking my cock. Anyone would guess you want to be stuffed with my cum.” Mon El taunted. At seeing my expression after he cooed, “is that it, slut? You want to be full of cum? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Hnnnng.” I moaned out, unable to form words. My sound of jumbled words sent a laugh through the Prince, his lips descending to my ear. “C’mon, whore, one more. Then you can get on those pretty knees for me.” He whispered. His tongue traced over the shell of my ear and his thumb circled my abused numb in tight circles. “F-fuck.” He groaned out, hips faltering as he blew his load into me, triggering my fourth orgasm of the night.

He still after a few finishing thrusts, pulling out slowly and ogling at the sight of a mixture of our cum spilling out of my fucked-out whole.

“Fuck, look at that baby, you ruined little whole is weeping with my cum.” Mon El observed, leaning in and licking a fat stripe up my lips. I moaned out lewdly, his tongue lapping around my cunt and eating me out like a man starved, groaning into me for effect. The vibrations sent shivers through me and he finally pulled away after dragging one more release from my quivering pussy.

He leant over me, hands making quick work of the chains until my wrists and ankles were free - but now void of bruises. He bent down to my ear, his lips brushing shay it almost teasingly as he husked lowly and demandingly, with no space to negotiate:

“Get on your knees.”

#mon el image #mon el smut #mon el x reader #mon el of daxam #mon el #chris wood images #chris wood x reader #chris wood image #chris wood smut #kai parker smut #jake riley smut #chris wood #Kai Parker #kai parker x reader #supergirl imagine #supergirl smut #supergirl

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mk-wizard · 3 years

Text

So Long, Garfield: A fanscript on how Garfield could end well

Hello, fans and fat cats. Here I am with another Garfield essay, but this one is different. It is not exploration, fan theory or character analysis, but a fanscript on how the iconic comic strip cat could end on a high note. Keep in mind that this fanscript also tries to uphold all the things that made Garfield great and brings the original concept as well as many original ideas full circle. The premise of Garfield was that we saw life through his eyes namely how he saw his owner Jon’s life at how socially awkward, pathetic and bad with women he was. The audience was also subtly led to believe that if Jon ever did finally find a woman namely his most often go-to-gal Garfield’s vet Liz who found him revolting, it would mean the end of Garfield. Yet when that happened, it still went on. I think the story should end now and here is a fan script that I put together on how Garfield could end in my opinion on a high note while honouring its legacy. It is divided into four parts which symbolize the four stages of a very drastic change in one’s life. Specifically, how everything around Garfield changes in an almost domino effect kind of way because Jon and Liz finally became a couple. Note that that four stages serve as four story arcs which make up what would make for Garfield’s very last volume in the book series.

1- Jon wants to marry Liz meaning she will move in and the household dynamic and lifestyle will change forever (resistance). - After becoming an official couple, Jon and Liz decide to move onto the next big step which is to get married. Before, when they were just dating, it made Garfield a bit jealous yet he could deal with it because at least everything else was the same in his life and he grew to like having Liz around as a visitor, but having her around full time means things will change the household dynamic forever. It turns out that adapting to having Liz live with them is going to take a lot changes and it means the way they act, live and do every day tasks will not be the same anymore. Initially, Garfield will react very bad to this because unlike Jon, he likes bachelorhood and isn’t ready to give it up, so he would probably do everything he could to foil Jon’s attempts to propose to Liz and even go as far as making Liz very uncomfortable in an effort to get her to dump Jon. However, Garfield’s stunts in fact backfire as Liz turns out to be very tolerant and patient with him as she is not only good with animals since she is a vet, but kind of see right through him so she sympathizes with him not wanting her to intrude. Also, despite all of Garfield’s efforts, Jon still somehow manages to propose to Liz and she says yes. When that happens, Garfield stops resisting and just resigns. Note that from here on end, the planning of Jon and Liz’s wedding is ongoing in the background.

2- Lyman finally finds his own place and job meaning he will move out, but so will Odie (denial). - This leads us to phase two which also brings up the forgotten yet still present idea that Lyman is Jon’s roommate and Odie is not actually Jon’s dog. After so many years, Lyman finally lands a great job and is able to move out, BUT if he goes, so will Odie. Obvious, neither Garfield or Odie are happy about this because they’re actually good friends. I would imagine that there would be tons upon tons of gags of trying to stop the move out from happening like the pets emptying out the luggage to trying to sneak Odie away so that he secretly stays in Jon and Garfield’s house, but of course, all of these attempts to keep the status quo would not only fail, they would make both Jon and Lyman very angry. I imagine the punchline in the end would be that it turns out that Lyman is only moving away into his own house a few blocks away which is just walking distance. Also, the serious side that keeping Odie isn’t just unrealistic, it’s mean because he’s all Lyman’s got. Of course, Jon and his own friend still be cool. It is also here we finally find out what Lyman does for a living; he is a photographer and he will be taking pictures for Jon and Liz’s wedding. And bittersweetly, while it turns out Garfield and Odie won’t be split up that far apart, them not living together is still a huge change to get used to as their absence in each other’s lives is felt.

3- Nermal comes to terms with leaving kittenhood and abandonment issues in his mind (depression). - At this phase, Garfield is sad and depressed, and things seem to get worse as Jon and Liz are going to the Arbuckle farm to celebrate their engagement. And fun long lost fact; Nermal is the kitten of Ma and Pa Arbuckle... but things have changed there too and so has Nermal. Mom and Dad have their own announcement which is that they are retiring and have decided to start traveling which means they are leaving the farm and the little guy in Doc Boy’s care. And while the parents are optimistic about this new phase in their lives, Doc Boy is facing some issues as Nermal is no longer a kitten. He is now a “teenager” meaning he is no longer cute and has taken up a rebellious as well as an unfriendly streak. He has become spiteful and does unkind things which as first annoys Garfield until he notices a familiar pattern and recalls he went through the same thing... when his previous owner, a pasta chef gave him to Jon. Despite all of his better judgement, Garfield gets Nermal to have a heart to heart talk, and Nermal admits that he is hurt that Mr. and Mrs. Arbuckle are leaving him behind. He thinks that they are abandoning him because he’s not a cute little kitten anymore. Of course, it turns out that the real reason they are leaving him with Doc Boy is out of love. Nermal has needs and requires stability that the Arbuckles cannot give him at their age, so they are leaving him with Doc Boy so he’ll be in good hands and have a good life. Garfield then finally comes to terms with his own abandonment issues and discovers that the pasta chef did the same thing. He didn’t give him to Jon to get rid of him because he was eating the lasagna all the time. Garfield getting older and hungrier was a sign that he was growing up and needed a good home, so the chef helped Garfield find an owner who could be there for him full time. Through this, for the first time ever, Garfield and Nermal finally find common ground and get to like each other. It turns out that underneath it all, Nermal is a lot like Garfield in how he likes to eat and secretly enjoys mischief. So much so that like how Garfield loves lasagna, Nermal adores country style apple pie. At the end of the engagement party and trip, both Garfield and Nermal’s spirits are lifted, and while Nermal has eased up a little, it is hinted that he has become Doc Boy’s “Garfield” which makes Garfield for the first time ever, finds Nermal cute for it.

4- Jon gets to know Liz’s parents and Garfield rethinks his own relationship with Arlene (acceptance). - Nearing the end of the wedding plans, Jon must now get to know Liz’s parents and become accepted by them. It turns out that Liz’s dad is an easy going guy who seems to have a lot in common with Jon while her mom is the stern one who seems to have a lot of Liz’s sarcastic and no nonsense demeanor. She is also a big time zoologist. Meanwhile, Garfield is taking in all of the changes that are going on around them and decides that maybe, change isn’t so bad after all. Namely, maybe it isn’t so bad to love someone other than yourself. This makes him think that instead of just being casual with Arlene yet keeping her at an arm’s length, he decides he wants to go steady with her and officially become boyfriend and girlfriend with her. In the midst of all of this, it turns out that despite how intimidating Liz’s mom has acted towards Jon, she actually always accepted him and thinks he is a good match for her daughter because they balance each other kind of like how her own quirky and socially awkward husband balances himself with her. More importantly, Jon makes Liz happier than any other man she has met before. Once that resolution is made and all of the wedding plans are made, Garfield at long last introduces Arlene to the family indicating that they are officially together. Of course, Jon and Liz being who they are, take an immediate liking to Arlene and agree to take her in meaning that she is also not part of the household too. At this point, the wedding plans are finally put into place which offers tons of hilarious antics namely the things that go wrong to the things that are over the top. Though at the end, the wedding finally happens and the final scene is of Jon and Liz becoming husband and wife while Garfield thanks the audience for coming this far with them and saying goodbye.

The End

Well, there you have it. This is my fanscript on how Garfield ought to end in the best way possible. What do you all think of it? I would love to hear what you all think. Do you think any of this will happen?

If you have a fan theory, character analysis or anything of a comic media you want me to make an essay for, let me know in my ask section. Also, please give this a like, give me a watch and support me either by Ko-fi or Patreon. Links are in my profile.

Thanks guys and as always, stay safe.

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

Note

Dialogue prompt: “you feel so deeply for everyone, let someone feel deeply for you.”

Thank you, lovely person, for this wonderful prompt! I’m sorry this took a while, it got very long. I also just realised as I was uploading this, that the prompt isn’t exactly what you asked for. I hope you like it regardless!

Warnings: None, except for utter dumbassery on these two idiots’ parts

Read on AO3

The room at their inn was infuriatingly quiet, the silence only broken by the scratch of Jaskier's quill. It drove Geralt mad. It drove him mad and yet he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling above the bed.

Not because of the obvious reasons. Not because it was annoying or too loud or anything.

No, it drove him mad, because he lacked the words to fill the silence. Two dozen times Geralt opened his mouth to say something, two dozen times he closed it again.

Then he sat up with a start. "What would you like to do this evening?" he blurted out.

The maddening scratching stopped for a moment, accompanied by a weary sigh. "Gee, Geralt, what kind of question is that?"

"Hmm." Yeah, what kind of question was that? A stupid one, that's what.

"I don't know, sleep?” The scratching started again. “I'm tired." Jaskier yawned to prove his point.

Geralt ground his teeth and turned onto his other side. He had just wanted to do something nice for his bard. But now the opportunity had passed, now he had to work up the courage again. He fell asleep, still ruminating how utterly stupid he had been.

The thing was, doing something nice for another person wasn't necessarily Geralt's forte. Melitele's tits, even being nice was not his forte! He was a witcher and witchers killed monsters. Niceties and manners had a very low priority in Kaer Morhen’s curriculum.

The other thing was, Jaskier deserved someone being nice to him. He couldn't quite say what it was, but the bard had grown on him over the years. First a slight annoyance and liability, then a reliable travel companion until he felt comfortable calling him his friend. Best friend, even. Which, given that he was his only friend, wasn’t very hard. And now—

Something had changed, something Geralt did not quite dare to name. All he knew was that whenever he looked at his bard, his cheeks and chest grew warm and his stomach and heart did funny things they weren't supposed to.

And that he wanted to do something nice for the bard.

A few weeks after the Question Incident, Geralt had finally worked up the courage to try once more. Given his previous experience, he had decided not to ask the bard again. That way at least, he didn’t run risk to ruin it with his incompetence with words again.

He did, however, hold the belief that words were the key to this tricky situation. Jaskier was a bard, a poet, a minstrel. He liked words. So, Geralt decided to by him a pretty book full of pretty words.

They had managed to arrive in town during market day, which was quite fortunate indeed. Books were pricey, and usually unattainable in the smaller towns. But here he was quick to succeed.

The book was almost comically tiny and abhorrently expensive, but the vendor assured him that it was all the rage in Cidaris at the moment. Even better than that, it was not written by hand, but rather by a very new invention called a ‘printing press’. Needless to say, Geralt was fascinated and excited to have found such a perfect gift for his bard. He slapped down a pouch of coins onto the counter and quickly returned to their inn.

The book was strategically placed onto the rickety desk in the corner and he forced himself to busy himself with his swords as he waited for his friend to return.

It did not take long until Jaskier burst into the room with the usual flurry of words and quickly discarded clothes. Normally, Geralt paid him no mind, but on that day, he was watching him like a hawk. That was how he was fortunate enough to witness the exact moment the bard spotted the book.

Jaskier froze mid-sentence and pointed at it: “What’s this?”

“’S for you,” Geralt mumbled. “I found it.”

He drew closer to the desk and flipped the cover open with two fingers, as far away from the folio as possible. And hissed. Jaskier actually hissed. “What is this?” he demanded again. “And what is it doing here, in our room?”

“A book,” he replied confused. “Poems, they said. ‘S good, they said.”

“Poems!” he exclaimed. “Those aren’t poems, Geralt, those are the uninspired rhymes by a talentless wastrel, who stole my verses! I hope you didn’t spend any money on it, I wouldn’t give a copper for any composition by Valdo Marx.”

Geralt looked at the sword in his lap. ‘Fuck.’

“I’m going to burn it,” Jaskier declared and Geralt leapt to his feet, shouting: “No!”

The rest of their stay in town was spent wrestling the book from his bard, so he couldn’t chuck it into the fireplace before Geralt had a chance to pawn it off again. Somehow, he felt even stupider than the last time.

~*~

Words were off the table, then, so he opted for a more direct-action approach. One of the many things he had learned about the bard in all those years, was that he enjoyed food. Good food, specifically.

They made camp, Geralt decided that Jaskier deserved a nice meal. He went off to hunt and forage, leaving the bard in charge of setting up the camp and caring for Roach. After his initial mistrust of his companion’s animal handling skills, Jaskier had quickly proven himself quite capable. At least more capable than looking for food in the wild.

When he returned an hour and a half later, he was quite proud with himself. He had managed to catch a fat rabbit and found a whole array of mushrooms and berries that would surely please the bard. They were brightly coloured, just as he was.

Smiling broadly and not-humming under his breath—they had talked about that, witchers didn't hum, definitely not—he set about preparing the meal while Jaskier went off to do the laundry in a nearby stream. Fair's fair, after all.

The sun had set and the stew was almost done, when he returned. "That smells—” He wrinkled his nose.

'Oh no,' Geralt thought, icy dread rushing through his veins. That wasn't good. One wasn't supposed to wrinkle their nose when smelling food. Besides, there was nothing to wrinkle one's nose about. The stew smelled delicious.

However, he appeared to have done a grievous mistake, for the displeased expression on Jaskier’s face did not fade. "Geralt," he said warily, "what are you doing?"

"Cooking," he replied, pointing at the pot simmering over the fire. This time, at least, it was Jaskier asking the stupid questions. "Mushrooms and rabbit."

"Mushrooms," Jaskier repeated and pointed at a few leftovers. "Those mushrooms?"

"Hmm." He did not like where this was going.

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier's face fell, an absolutely revolting expression of compassion and bemusement. "Those are poisonous!"

Geralt stared at him. Stared back at the stew. Back at him. The stew. "Fuck."

~*~

Alright, so what Geralt needed was a fool-proof plan. A witcher-proof plan, rather. I plan he could absolutely not muck up, no matter how hard he tried. It took him a month and a half to come up with one.

Then, he decided it was best to put such delicate matters into someone else’s hands. Hooves, rather.

“Geralt,” Jaskier complained loudly as the heat bore down on them relentlessly. “Please, have some mercy on me. I can’t. I just can’t anymore.” This had been going on for hours. “How long’s it been, Geralt? How long’s it been since we had a rest? Since the sweat dripping from my brow wasn’t watering dried weeds on the road side? Since I had but a sip of water?”

He cast his eyes upwards. “About four hours since you took a morning bath in that stream,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And you’d have something to drink, had you not insisted on upending your water over your head.”

“You’re a cruel man, witcher,” the bard whined. Geralt could hear the pout in his voice. “The reason for my demise, even. My blisters have got blisters, I think my feet are about to fall off. And whose fault will it be? Yours, my friend yours alone—”

Geralt jerked on Roach’s reins; he had heard quite enough of those baseless accusations. The bard, however, didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he just kept on babbling and walking—limping, really. He couldn’t help but smile. “Jaskier,” he said far too fondly as he hopped off the saddle.

He spun around, a confused look on his face. “What?”

“Come here.” He gestured at Roach. “Maybe this’ll give your feet some rest.” In the privacy of his mind, he added: ‘And my ears, as well.’

Eagerly, Jaskier hurried over to him. “Are you being serious?”

He rolled his eyes and laced his fingers together, offering to give him a boost. When Jaskier still didn’t move, he growled: “Come on, before I change my mind.”

“Alright, alright,” the bard mumbled. Shortly after, he was safely in the saddle, grinning from ear to ear, as he patted Roach’s neck. “Gotta admit it,” he said smugly, while Geralt adjusted the stirrups, “I kind of missed this. Thank you, Geralt.”

He mumbled something unintelligible and waved him to be on his way, as he got all of his friend’s useless weight situated on his back. It did not take much urging for the bard to ride ahead and leave Geralt trailing behind.

In all fairness, what happened next was only loosely his fault. Maybe he should have paid better attention to the road. Maybe he should have walked beside Roach, ready to grab her reins if anything went wrong. Maybe.

But he was, after all, only a man. Only a man who was not only confronted with the fact that his bard had a rather lovely bottom, but also that said lovely bottom was right in his line of sight, if he walked behind Roach just so. Information he’d certainly file away again for later, if his bard was dilly-dallying again.

Still, maybe he shouldn’t have let himself be distracted quite as much by the sight. And he probably should have seen the bandits waiting at the side of the road well in advance. He definitely should have realised sooner what exactly was happening and come to Jaskier’s rescue.

Alas, none of that had been the case.

A piercing scream had ripped him out of his silent contemplation and next thing he knew, Roach was gone, Jaskier was lying on the ground and he had four, admittedly not very skilled, crooks to contend with.

Once that was done, he crouched down next to his friend, fretting nervously. “Are you alright?” he asked anxiously, skimming his hands all over Jaskier’s body to check for injuries. “Did you break something? Any blood, any pain? How’s your head feeling?”

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he insisted, batting the hands away. “Melitele’s tits, Geralt, please tell me I’m not that insufferable.”

He sat back on his haunches, unable to do anything but stare. This was nothing like he had planned.

Jaskier sighed heavily and waved his hand. “Just… go check on your horse.”

Bereft of any other options, that was exactly what he did.

~*~

Autumn was almost upon them and Geralt was running out of options. After the Question Incident, the Book Catastrophe, the Mushrooms and the Wannabe Robbers, a number of other disastrous mishaps had followed, the most prominent among those being the Tavern Brawl, the Brothel Failure, and the Library Ban.

What he had learned during all those horrifying events, was that the only way he could ever even hope to do something nice for his bard was with a town, meticulous planning, and the radical elimination of any and all possible liabilities.

The first two, he had excelled at, this time. There was a town, there was an inn, there was a room they rented for five days. The first three of them, Geralt had spent conspiring with the innkeeper and her wife, who found them and his efforts ‘absolutely adorable’ and who were more than willing to aid him in his ‘display of his undying love’. Both of those were rather weird notions, but Geralt was so close, so close, he had no time to bother with semantics.

It was the fourth day and everything was going perfect. The tub was prepared, the tavern was quiet, the bath salts and scented oils and soaps his bard loved so much bought. And the bard did not suspect a thing.

All that was left to do know was fetch Jaskier and finally, finally do something nice for him.

That last thing was easier than he had anticipated; they practically ran into each other on the way out of the tavern. “Jaskier!” Geralt said.

“Geralt!” Jaskier said.

“I’ve got something for you,” they both said.

Geralt blinked.

Jaskier blinked.

“You go first,” Geralt growled.

“Great!” The bard was bouncing on the balls of his feet. That was never a good sign. He didn’t know, however, how much of a not-good sign it was until Jaskier produced a sheet of paper from his sleeve. “Look! It’s a contract!”

‘Fuck,’ Geralt thought. ‘I should’ve gone first.’ “Shit,” he said. “I can’t take it.”

“What?!” he balked. “What are you talking about, you have to take it! That’s a hundred crowns, Geralt, that’ll last us weeks! I know you’ve been going all stir-crazy these past few days; you’re even more quiet and taciturn than usual.”

That wasn’t exactly untrue. Four days of conspiring had taken their toll. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, just a couple of drowners.”

Geralt growled and snatched the page out of his hand. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he promised and stormed off.

He wasn’t back in an hour. It wasn’t a couple of drowners, either.

Instead, he returned two hours past sundown, drenched in mud, every bone in his body hurting like fuck, the heads of a couple of drowners and a fucking water hag. He hated water hags. Not because they were specifically difficult to kill, but because they just kept lobbing mud at him and that was all he needed for a day to qualify as truly revolting.

He stomped to the house of the alderman, collected the payment and then dragged himself up to their inn room, where he was greeted by a far too cheery bard. “You’re back!” he exclaimed and almost lunged to embrace him, when he spotted the mud and guts all over him. “Eww,” he sneered. “You, my dear witcher, need a bath.”

On any other day, Geralt would have readily agreed. Maybe even on this day. But then, Jaskier declares: “Luckily, our gracious hosts have been so kind to already provide us with one.” He stepped out of the way and, to Geralt’s horror, presented a wooden bathtub with candles and rose petals and a nice embroidered linen sheet to avoid any annoying splinters. “Come here, friend, and take a bath.”

“No, you take a bath,” he blurted before he had even time to think about the words coming out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Jaskier wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I’m not the one smelling like he just got dunked into the swamp and then took a nap in the pigpen. You take a bath, Geralt, or you sleep with Roach tonight!”

Accepting his fat, his shoulders fell. “Fuck.”

~*~

It was almost winter, almost time to separate for months, and Geralt almost admitted defeat. Almost. But, of course, he didn’t even manage that.

Honestly, after nigh nine months of trial and error (mostly error) it shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, that even this final opportunity was a complete and utter failure in regards to his plans. How it still did was beyond him.

The door to their inn room shut behind them with a bang, Jaskier leaning against it to block any means of escape. "Geralt of Rivia," he declared boldly, probably as menacing as he could, "what are you playing at?"

"Hm?" he tried innocently.

"Oh, no,” he laughed throatily and raised an accusatory finger, drawing closer with each word. “Oh no, my friend, don't you 'hm' me. You,” the finger poked into his chest, “are acting weird."

"Hmm."

He huffed. "At least we can agree about that. So. What are you playing at? Because I tell you, this has been going on for months and I can't decide whether you are trying to mock me, insult me, or kill me!"

"None of that," Geralt was quick to assure.

"Well, then, what is it?"

His eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for a way out of this. But Jaskier was directly in front of him, trapping him against the bed, and still blocking the way to the door. There was nowhere to run, so he decided to go for the truth: "I'm trying to do something nice for you!"

The bard gawked at him. Then, he blurted: "What on earth are you talking about?!"

He didn’t say a thing.

“Geralt!” Jaskier took another step forward and as Geralt’s calves hit the mattress, his knees buckled and he sat down involuntarily.

"I—” He threw up his hands in defeat. How on earth was he supposed to explain all of those confusing things going on inside of him. Before he could come up with a satisfying answer, his mouth started talking on his own: “You care so deeply for everyone, let someone care deeply for you."

Silence fell over the room, as Jaskier kept staring and Geralt kept avoiding his gaze. Then, the bard suddenly crouched down, with the exact same expression he had after The Mushrooms. “Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier said in that soft tone he just couldn't quite understand. 'Fond,' his mind supplied, 'adoring.'

"Please," he begged, hiding his face against the reassuring shoulder of his friend, "this has been hell. I tried everything I could think of, and it all failed. Just tell me. Tell me how I can do something nice for you. I'd do anything, anything at all."

"Anything, you say?" He laughed, a playful undertone sneaking into his voice. "Well then, heroic witcher, I would like a kiss,” he said, accompanied by a wink.

Geralt wasn't thinking. If he had been, he'd probably stopped himself. But since any cerebral activity had ceased to exist, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips to the bard's mouth in a chaste kiss.

It was over almost before it had begun, the bard spluttering with surprise: "I- You- I was joking!"

Oh. Fuck. Well, that certainly was a way to end a year of embarrassments. "I'm sorry," he blurted and backed away, frantically scooting back on the bed, only to be stopped by Jaskier's hands.

“I—umm—shit!” Jaskier cursed; now it was him who was avoiding Geralt’s gaze.

He snorted. No hunched shoulders or ducked head could hide the crimson cheeks of his bard. “You’re blushing.”

“Well, you’re an idiot!” he countered. And, well, Jaskier certainly was not prone to be a liar. “I didn't think you’d actually do it, you daft witcher,” he hissed, before his face grew soft and he smiled again, invitingly. “But I also didn't say you should stop.”

It was a terrible line. It was a terrible line and they both knew it. Evidently, they both didn’t care. As soon as the words had left Jaskier’s mouth, they surged forward. It was surreal, really, to finally be granted permission. To finally be able to taste Jaskier’s lips, to pull him in, close, closer, until he was straddling his thighs. To finally be able to dispose of his doublet, push his hands under his shirt and up his back and—

Breathlessly, Geralt pulled away. “I love you,” he blurted.

Jaskier sighed quietly and smiled. “I know,” he whispered and pecked him on his cheek. “You show it in a thousand little ways, every day.” He pecked him on the other cheek.

“I know,” Geralt replied and kissed him on the mouth. “You tell anyone who would listen.”

He chuckled and kissed him again. “I never dared to dream you’d love me like this,” he murmured against his lips.

“But I do.”

“You know,” Jaskier said, playing with the clasps of his armour, “that was awfully nice of you. But if you’d life to do another nice thing for me, to make up for lost time, so to speak, I’ve got a couple of ideas in my mind.”

Geralt groaned and pull away, flopping backwards onto the bed. “No,” he said stubbornly, shoving at the bard who tried to kiss him again. “Nope, not in a thousand years. That was it, you ruined it. Enough nice things for you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jaskier whined. “It wasn’t that terrible. Cheesy, yes, I’ll accept even tacky, but certainly not tasteless enough to warrant such a cruel punishment.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

Jaskier crossed his arms and pouted. “Alright, maybe it was,” he conceded.

Geralt huffed his agreement, stretching out his hands for his bard’s hips, already tired of this game.

“Regardless,” a smug grin spread on his face as he shimmied closer, “you love me too much to deny me for long.”

“Yeah.” Geralt smirked as well and put his arms around Jaskier’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. “Yeah, I do.”

#prompt fill #kimception98 #look i've got an ask #geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier

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hopekiedokie · 4 years

Text

That’s Rough Buddy (Seokjin)

SUMMARY : You were invited to your friends' annual Halloween Costume Bash™ and were supposed to go on a matching couples costume but your date cancels at the very last minute. Nevertheless, you pushed through with going to the party in your costume not knowing that you would still end up matching with someone. But unfortunately, it was with that very annoying (yet very attractive) guy that you despise so much.

PAIRING : Seokjin x reader

GENRE: humor, fluff, a sprinkle of angst in the end, enemies to lovers or frenemies to lovers (kinda?)

WORD COUNT : 16.6k+ words

WARNINGS: A swear word or two or seven, Jin is a crackhead (shocker), too much halloween games, excessive use of Avatar The Last Airbender quotes and references (aka Jin channeling his inner Azula)

NOTES: I originally was gonna make y/n and Jin dress up as Team Rocket and title this AU "Prepare for Trouble" but I ultimately decided on this. It pained me to do so because I am such a simp for purple haired Jin. Even if there are SO many hidden ATLA references here, I don't think you need to see it to understand this AU. Although, what on earth are you doing with your life if you've never watched the show?? Anyways, I hope you like this even though it's well into November now. Also, this is my very first fic so hopefully you’d enjoy this! Appa yip yip!

The smell of pumpkin seems to be enveloping the entire Park residence. You have barely reached the front porch and the scent has already hit your nostrils. How could a simple scent have possibly diffused into such a huge proximity, you wonder to yourself as you knocked on your best friends' front door. It wasn't until you entered the household when things became clear to you. Dozens upon dozens of pumpkins in different sizes were littered from their front hall to their living room. Some were already carved, some were sitting idly, and some were lined up to be carved by Park Jimin and Park Luna.

You were invited here on this lovely afternoon with the promise of free food. But after being handed a plate of pumpkin muffins and a bunch of carving tools, you felt a strong urge to just go home and maybe sleep through the holiday. Of course the two gremlins sitting on the floor, seemingly a pair on a mission, did not allow that to happen. So here you are on your seventh pumpkin, scooping out its contents, definitely not thinking of a million other things you'd rather be doing now. You were just about to stab your eye out with the sharp stabbing tool due to a possible mental breakdown when you got a text from Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend whom you might have had a crush on for about a year now since you’ve become friends with him. The two of you are going in matching costumes for the annual Park Halloween Costume Bash™ and have been texting non stop for two weeks now. Everyone in town takes this party seriously, including the adults. Even their parents are in on it though unfortunately this year, they're out of town so they aren't really involved. But the chosen winners for best costume are still to be awarded with a free dinner at the famous Park's family restaurant.

Tae Tae 🌻 : So that's a solid no on shaving my head? Cause I really wouldn't be opposed to it if it means a free heavenly meal from Papa Park 👀👀👀

You quietly chuckle at the thought of a bald Taehyung running around. The commitment of this man amazes you. You were about to type a reply when you felt something aggressively tap against your forehead. You look up to see an annoyed looking Luna.

Feeling something is stuck to your forehead, you slowly brought your hand up to touch it and you instantly felt a bit of pumpkin mush. "Did you just hit me with your filthy ladle?!" You disgustingly shouted at her.

"Dude, now is not the time to be all lovey dovey when the party is in three days and we still have about...uhm..." She looked around, started counting and then went to add stuff with her fingers, "A total of 27 pumpkins to stab and a whole house to decorate!"

You groaned loudly and fell on your back on the floor. You feel a headache start to develop from being surrounded by too much pumpkin flavored and scented things. If your two best friends' goal is to put any pumpkin patch to shame, then they definitely have achieved it. At this point, the stench of halloween in this area is strong enough to linger until the holiday comes back next year.

"Okay, but I don't understand why I'm being subjected into pumpkin slavery as well when this isn't even my party to throw?"

"When you're this behind on everything, all hands on deck are needed. We literally have not started on any of our to do list aside from pumpkin carving." It was Jimin who replied to your question. You watch him puncture a bunch of holes on the purple pumpkin he is working on. If you hear the word "pumpkin" one more time, you just might spontaneously combust or repeatedly bash your head with the wooden ladle in front of you. (A/N: Tbh, same here. It's only been a couple of paragraphs and I've already used the word 12 times.)

"I thought we'd be on top of this without mom and dad's help!" Luna started as she too began poking holes on her [word redacted]. "We are so behind! I mean, this guy still doesn't have a costume!"

"YAH! Stop exposing me like that! I told you, it's a…a work in progress."

Luna snorted at his step brother's remark. "In order for a work to be in progress, it must first be started-" Jimin cut her off by throwing her some [word redacted] meat.

It effectively stopped her from further embarrassing Jimin from his lack of costume days from the single most important party of their year. But it did start a revolting [word redacted] meat fight which lasted about a good minute. For the good of everyone, you stomped over to the war zone and pried the two idiots from each other. For a bunch of fools who are supposed to be rushing to get things done, they seem to be just fine with wasting their time.

"OPPA STOP IT!"

"I wouldn't have declared war on you if you hadn't outed me like that to y/n!"

"Well, it's not my fault you're so unready!"

"ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH FROM YOU TWO!" You shouted as you yanked Luna off of him. Why on earth did their parents think it would be alright to leave these two on their own is beyond you. You gave Luna a reprimanding look and said, "Seriously, you'll make no progress if you continue with your antics."

Her eyes widen, looking like a little child being scolded by her mom. "He started it!"

From behind you, you can hear Jimin snickering. Probably feeling smug from her sister taking all the scolding. Honestly, are they five? You faced him with a much dirtier look than the one you gave Luna and he instantly stood straight, lips pressed into a thin line.

"And as for you!" You started, "I can't believe you still don't have a costume! This is so disappointing coming from you. How could you have let this happen?"

This may seem over dramatic, but this costume party is really THAT important. It's the highlight of the autumn season. This family really knows how to celebrate it and they do not fail to over shine what they had the year before. So this is really a bunch of steps back for these two.

"I know, I know!" Jimin yelled exasperatedly. "It's not that I haven't been planning. It's just that, how could I possibly top what I dressed up as from last year?"

He does have a point. He and Luna teamed up last year on what might be the most iconic costume ever. They both dressed up as the Wilson sisters from the movie White Chicks. They even had prosthetics on just like how Kevin and Marcus impersonated the twins. You guess you would not know how to beat that costume as well.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe you're just uncreative cause I found a costume that will surely be a big hit to the people." Luna taunted her brother.

"What is it?" You and Jimin asked at the same time.

"You'll just have to wait and see!" She answered in a sing-song tone and proceeded to clear up the mess they made.

Jimin began helping her sister pick up [word redacted] mush with a long face. "Well that sucks hard for me. How about you y/n? What are you dressing up?"

"Oh, she's going as Katara, alongside Taehyung who is dressing up as Aang!" Luna answered for you, uttering the latter part in a way that sounds like she's teasing you.

"Oh, sweet! A date with Tae! I didn't know you two were finally going out?"

"What? No, don't listen to her. It's not a date! We're just friends." The two stared at you with a "yeah right" kind of look so you were compelled to explain further.

"Look, we were talking about The Last Airbender a few months ago and I mentioned how much I really wanted to cosplay as Katara. One thing led to another then poof! Here we are going as Aang and Katara to your party. It's not a big deal."

Jimin had a knowing sly smirk that made you somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah, except Aang and Katara were madly in love and ended up making babies AND you obviously have a crush on each other." He said.

You reached for the nearest bowl of discarded [word redacted] meat and flung it towards the boy whose eyes have now disappeared and is in a laughing fit.

"No, no, no! You've got it all wrong! Y/n doesn't have a big fat crush on Taehyung." Luna defended you. Thank God for her! Between the two goons, she really is the one you can truly count on. You were about to say thank you when she added, "It's obviously Seokjin she has a huge ass crush on!"

Your mouth fell agape.

"Wait, oh yeah it's him!" Jimin agreed and tag teamed with his sister to tease you. Sometimes, you forget that they were born with different parents. Apart from their DNA, they’re pretty much identical. And it's scary.

"Okay, you know what? I take it back. You both deserve this!" You grabbed the mushy bowl and threw gloop after gloop towards the siblings.

Needless to say, you spent more time cleaning up afterwards than working on the decorations.

The next few days went by like a huge storm. Chaos definitely ensued. You spent more time and effort on making this party possible than you ever did with anything in your life. All you see are purple and orange with a hint of red even when you close your eyes. Halloween seems to haunt you even in your sleep. Just last night, you dreamt you were being wrapped in spider webs (Which let's be honest, is pretty much just cotton) by that huge scarecrow standing in your best friends' lawn.

You were out in town with Jimin doing last minute shopping, telling him that weird and disturbing dream of yours when he suddenly told you he has something to do and pretty much dashed away to the direction of a women's shoe store. What's that all about?

He's been absolutely frazzled since that afternoon you spent terrorising [word redacted]. You can't blame the lad. It's hours away from the party and it seems like he still doesn't have a costume. You and Luna don't know how he's gonna pull this off. If he does though, you'll thoroughly be impressed and would never question Park Jimin's capabilities.

On your way to the nearest bus stop, you received a message from Taehyung. You instantly felt giddy. The fact that you're going to a party with him in matching costumes have only sunk in this morning when you finished with the party preparations. You opened the text and your face instantly fell.

Tae Tae 🌻 : Y/n! I really don't know how to say this. But I don't think I can come to the party tonight. My little sister woke up to a very bad fever this morning and both my parents are working this evening. I'm so so sorry to cancel on you. I know we've been looking forward to this for so long 😔

You know you can't be mad at him. It's not like he planned for this to happen. But you can't help but feel absolutely gutted. He's right, you've been looking forward to this for so long. Since April this year actually. If he's not coming, everything just seems pointless.

You : Aww that's a shame. Don't worry about me though. There's always next year. Worry about your sister! I do hope she'll get better soon. She shouldn't miss out on halloween ☹☹☹

Tae Tae 🌻 : I know. She's not gonna be able to go trick or treating. But I'll make sure we'll watch halloween films!

Tae Tae 🌻 : Wait what do you mean there's always next year??

You : We'll just have to wait for next year to debut our costumes!

Tae Tae 🌻 : WAIT NO. Don't tell me you're not going to the party?? Just because I can't come??

You : Well yeah. It seems pointless to go.

Tae Tae 🌻 : Don't be like that! You're making me feel guilty 😭 Your costume deserves to be flaunted. Go or else I'll never talk to you again 🤧

Despite his order for you to come to the party, all desires to go left you the moment you read his initial text. The entire point of coming is to go as a pair. You both have been working hard to make your costumes as accurate as possible. To come alone doesn't make sense.

You were too engrossed with your phone that you did not realize you were going to crash into a person when you took a turn at the corner of the street. "Oww." You clutched the top of your head, as if you hit a hard wall instead.

"I'm so sorry-" the guy began to apologise but stopped short after he saw you. "Ah y/n! Watch where you're going! Don’t just mindlessly walk around!” he said, rubbing his chest where your head presumably collided with.

“Oh! I bet you're going as Wonder Woman tonight. Get it? Cause you wander too much around!"

The hollering buffoon in front of you, laughed at his own joke so hard that people around you started looking at the both of you. Wanting to get out of this embarrassing situation, you circled around him and proceeded to walk towards the bus stop. But he unfortunately followed right after you.

"Hang on." He jogged in front of you and held both of your arms. He looked you in the eyes with such seriousness that you think he has something very important to say. But alas, you should’ve known that nothing intelligible ever comes out of his mouth.

He opened his mouth and said, "Are you actually going as Wonder Woman?"

You made an annoyed sound and slapped his arms away as he said things like "I knew it!" and "I am such a genius!".

"No Seokjin! I'm not going as Wonder Woman.” you said as you reached the bus stop.

“Well that’s a relief! Honestly that’s super low and pedestrian even for you.” He jabbed at you but you stayed silent, not wanting to banter with him, unlike the usual. He carried on blabbering for the remaining time, telling you how “Spicy and scorching” his costume is. Whatever that means. At this point, you have half the mind to believe that he’s dressing up as a jalapeño. Knowing Seokjin, you wouldn’t put it past him to do so.

“You know what, actually, I'm not going at all." you butt in as an attempt to shut him up. His head whipped towards you at such a lightning fast pace, you were sure it would have snapped off. Oh how you wish.

"You're not going?" He said in what sounded like a very disappointed tone. Huh, why would he be disappointed, you thought to yourself.

You shake your head no.

For once, Seokjin seemed rather speechless and something else. Dare you say sad. This is really weird for him but you chose not to analyse him further and stood at the bus stop. You both just stood there in silence for a couple of seconds until a bus came parking.

You were already inside, swiping your bus card, when you heard him say, "Well that's rather disappointing. Who would go and scare the little kids away now?"

The bus doors closed just as his infamous laugh came rolling. You weren't able to hear it but the sound of his signature windshield wiper laugh still rang in your ears. You flipped him off and hastily took a seat after an old man looked at you with such distaste. You took one last look at Seokjin giving him the finger once more but much discreetly as the bus abandoned his still laughing form.

When 8:30pm arrived, you were sprawled on your bed watching this god awful halloween film starring Adam Sandler. You, honest to god, love Adam Sandler. But this film isn’t it. You stopped paying attention half way through the movie and started scrolling through your phone when your mom unceremoniously barged in your room.

“Mom, for the last time! I’m not coming to the party!” You told her for like the thirteenth time since you got home this afternoon. It most probably wasn’t the thirteenth time and was probably just the third time. But you’re really not in the best mood.

“Are you extremely, positively, a hundred percent sure about that, honey?”

You rolled your eyes at that. Your mom is never the one to keep repeating stuff as she is also easily annoyed just like her daughter. “Yes, mom. I am firmly, undoubtedly, and conclusively stating that I am staying in this room for the rest of the night.” You proclaimed, not even sure you can string up further words to describe how sure you are with your decision.

Your mom sighed as you closed the movie, not interested in it anymore. You look up at her with a raised eyebrow, silently asking why she’s still in the room. She fully opened the door and said, “Well, if that’s the case, then you need to tell that to Freddie Mercury downstairs.”

Not really understanding what she meant, you just stared at her dumbfoundedly until your brain finally started to function properly. “Uh, excuse me. But come again?”

She sighed once more, probably already tired from the night and the high jinks that came along with it. She never really liked halloween.

“Just come downstairs. Now.”

You hurriedly got up from your bed and sprinted out of your room. You haven’t even stepped foot at the top of the stairs when you indeed caught sight of the one and the only Freddie Mercury at your front door, rocking his iconic Live Aid outfit, topped with a lavish red robe, and a completely blinged out crown. Of course, we can’t forget the aviators and his emblematic moustache.

“Ay oh!” Freddie yelled at the top of her-I mean his lungs. It was so loud that your cat ran out of your house. Meanwhile, you shamelessly gawked at the person in front of you as you descended downstairs. You were absolutely confident that your best friend wouldn’t be able to top her costume from last year. Oh you were wrong.

“Darling, I know I’m fabulous but don’t ogle at me like that. Now do tell me, what’s this news I’ve heard from the grapevine that you’re not coming to the party??” She asked annoyedly in a pretty decent posh London accent. You on the other hand, ignored her.

“Woah that looks utterly real.” You touched her moustache and she slapped your hand away.

“Oi! Focus, lass! How could you possibly spend the last three painful days with us on what seemed like the halloween edition of Amazing Race, only to bail on us at the finale?!" Her accent slowly slipped away as her voice progressively got much louder. Once again though, you chose to ignore her.

"Your crown is so beautiful! Is this custom made? Oooh can I touch it?" You asked while reaching for it, not even waiting for her approval.

"Y/n stop it! I asked you a question. Answer it! Why all of a sudden, you decide to not go--"

"Dude, you really hit the nail on this one! Although I have to say, I don't think Freddie had protruding boobs."

Luna dramatically gasped at your statement and covered her chest using her robe. "I do not have protruding boobs! You make it sound like they're massive!"

"Well, compared to Freddie Mercury's, I guess they kinda are."

She hit you for the second time since she got here. "This is as much squeezing I can handle to flatten them out. Nevertheless, I believe I have normal sized breasts! Besides, I'm sure Freddie would've loved to have protruding boobs anyway."

A couple of seconds passed with you two just staring at each other, feeling the weight of your conversation. Realising how stupid your topic is, the both of you burst into laughter.

"What on earth are we talking about? I can't. This is too stupid. What the heck are you even doing here?" You managed to spit out in between laughs

Luna stopped laughing and gasped once more. She hit you for the third time now and ignored your protests of pain. "You little shit! What are you still doing here in your pyjamas! The party started 30 minutes ago! Come on, let's get you dressed up!"

She yanked your arm towards the direction of your room but you stayed planted to where you stand. "I can't. I told you, I'm not going."

She dropped your arm and took off her aviators. She had a really disappointed look which must be mirroring your own expression. "You can't be serious. We've been working hard for this. We've been excited for it since the first day of autumn!"

You didn't reply to her, you just looked at the ground. "But what about Taehyung?"

"Taehyung isn't coming."

Confusion spread across her face so you told her about his dilemma with his sister.

“Well that’s just bullshit.” She concluded with such spite. Your eyes widen at her aggression towards Taehyung. You can’t believe she would be this hostile about him choosing to care for his sick little sister. What else was he supposed to do? Abandon her for you?

“What the hell, Luna! HIS SISTER IS SICK! How could you be so bitter to him?”

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” She waved both hands up in a defensive manner, “I’m not mad at him! I’m mad at you!”

You rubbed your face with both of your hands. You guess it makes sense for her to be mad at you but now is really not the time for you to agree with her. You're not in the best mood to carry out an argument. You just want to crawl back to your room. That dreadful Adam Sandler movie suddenly sounds so temptingly riveting. Having said that, you still made it clear to her as to why you would prefer staying in tonight.

Luna, being the stoic person that she is, completely disagreed with your reasoning. "Oh quit being dramatic! He already gave you the heads up to go tonight. What more do you need?"

"I don't know, Luna. I just feel like I'm betraying him if I go."

She glared at you for a good second as if trying to telepathically make you change your mind. When it dawned on her that you're not conceding, she sighed the longest sigh you've ever heard from anyone, dramatically placed her aviators back, turned around while flicking her robes on your face, and then strutted away from you.

"Fine then! If you'd rather sulk here over a boy rather than spending an astounding good time with your friends, then be my guest! I guess all that hard work you've put in will be for nothing. But that's fine! There's always next year anyway, right?"

You watch her shimmy her tush towards the front door as she spews out reprimands after reprimands. And she says you're dramatic. Birds of the feather, really do flock together.

Her hand is on the doorknob when she gave you what meant to be her last look on you. It seemed more of a plea to you though. At that moment, you felt a pang of guilt. Are you really going to abandon your best friends for Kim Taehyung?

You gave her a small smile and said, "I'm sure you'll have a fucking marvelous party!"

Finally, she gave out a groan of defeat and opened your front door. "Oh whatever y/n! I should've left the second your mom told me you're not coming. Jimin needs my help, anyways"

Jimin. Somehow, you remembered that that boy didn't have a costume even until this morning. You wonder what on earth did he pull at the very last minute. So you called out to Luna.

"Luna, wait a second!"

"WHAT NOW?!" She yelled exasperatedly

"I just want to know what Jimin dressed up as."

She let go of your front door knob and crossed her arms. "Why'd you wanna know? It's not like you care about this party."

"Oh give me a break! Just tell me what it is!"

The smirk she has on her face tells you that she's not giving you what you want. Which you are absolutely correct.

"I'm not telling you what he dressed up as. If you want to know, then you find it out yourself. All I'm saying is that his costume is literally everything."

Some way or another, that statement of hers stirred something inside of you. Somewhere, a few blocks down, is a Park Jimin dressed up as something "literally everything" (Park Luna, 2020). If there's something you know about Jimin is that his definition of marvelous is a normal person's definition but times ten. She could be bluffing, but your curiosity is really peaked.

Damnit, you need to know what he dressed up. Right now.

You stood at the doorway of the Park residence living room with your mouth on the floor.

In the middle of their room is where a really cool light up dance floor is. You already know that since you were there when it was set up yesterday. What caught your attention was the guy dancing wildly right smack in the middle of everyone. A wild Jimin was twerking, doing high kicks, and *gasp*! Did he just do a split???

Beside you, stands a preoccupied Luna, too busy taking a video of his untamed brother. “What did I tell you? Fucking everything!” She hollered and yelled at him to do some more of his high kicks.

You looked at your thick blue Southern Water Tribe coat lined with fur and then at Jimin, wearing his Patrick Star hooker costume. Suddenly, you feel overdressed. He was only wearing a tight pink sweatshirt, Patrick’s famous green shorts, fishnet stockings, and some sexy thigh high leather boots. Yet he is indeed stealing everyone’s attention. How could he possibly bust out those kinds of moves in those thin stilettos? A normal woman can even barely stand in them. Hold on, so that’s why he bolted to that women’s shoe shop this morning, you thought to yourself. It all makes sense now.

Luna was left enabling his brother's thotty attitude as you walked to the kitchen. Luna was right, staying at home was a dumb idea. You can't help but admire all the halloween decorations the three of you have placed everywhere. Now you understand the vibes the two siblings were going when they said they wanted the house to be illuminated by jack o lanterns only. It looks really pretty here. Let's just hope and pray that this house won't burn down at the end of the night because this is definitely a fire hazard.

A guy approached you as you were standing by the snack bar. You don't really know who he is but he's dressed up as Dumbledore so you felt obligated to talk to him. "Your Katara costume is so cool! I'm a huge fan of the series! (A/N: Honestly who isn't?) Is it okay if I take a pic with you?" He asked and instantly whipped his phone out.

Who were you to say no? So you awkwardly stood close to him and smiled for the camera. Is this what fame feels like?

"Gee thanks! I'll have to take another picture with you later but with your date too."

Your face fell for a fraction of a second for being reminded by Taehyung. How does this guy know that Taehyung and you were supposed to go in matching costumes?

"Oh, I'm sorry! Taehyung won't make it tonight which is a huge shame."

He looked at you weirdly. "Who's Taehyung?"

"Uh my date..?" you stated but ended up sounding more like asking a question.

"Oh, your date!" Realisation hit him and you slowly nodded. "But he did come!"

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. I saw him arrive earlier. I must say, he looks sick!"

Taehyung came? But what about his sister? Did she magically get better? Why didn't he text you or something? You are so confused.

"Have you seen him anywhere?" You asked rather hopefully.

"Yeah! He's out back giving palm readings in his fortune telling booth."

Well now you're even more confused. That booth was meant to be a prop display only. What the hell is Taehyung doing, playing fortune teller with it?

You thanked the guy and zoomed out to the backyard as fast as you could. There were no signs of Taehyung anywhere. You roamed around for a couple of minutes, trying to maneuver around the massive crowds towering over your pretty small form, until you heard a loud guy complaining about some drink.

"I'm telling you man! We need cactus juice up in here!" Oh, that annoying voice, you're sure you'd recognise that anywhere. It's only a matter of time until you run into him.

"It'll Quench Ya!" Hold up, that’s a Sokka line! Why would he be quoting from “Avatar: The Last Airbender”??

"Nothing's Quenchier, It's The Quenchiest!" You hear him say before he bust out his windshield wiper laugh. His voice seems to be coming from that large group of people by the fortune telling prop. You approached the group not for Seokjin, but to see if Taehyung was around. The two of them are in the same friend group.

It was difficult to scout around the group since everyone is a lot taller than you. You jumped around until you caught a glimpse of the hollering man in the middle, wearing something red and what appears to be a large scar on his face. Why does that scar look familiar? Realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. It seemed like time stopped for all the wrong reasons when you took in the entirety of Seokjin's costume.

"Hey, look! It's Seokjin's date!", someone said and every single head there was in that group turned towards you at the same time. Even Seokjin, himself. It's so comical and stupid that you'd think you're in some sort of sitcom.

You looked like a deer caught in headlights, just stood frozen in front of the crowd. To be fair, how were you supposed to react anyway?

“Damn, she looks really pretty!

“Those are some fine hair loopies!”

“I don’t understand why they would go as Zuko and Katara. It doesn’t make sense.”

“ZUTARA MOTHAFUCKAS!!!”

One, you agree that you look banging tonight. Two, You also agree that if the two of you were indeed on a date, it wouldn’t make sense to go as Zuko and Katara when they weren’t even a thing. But three, yes, Zutara all the way and you would go down with that ship faster than you can say Bonzu Pipinpadaloxicopolis The Third.

Although the crowd had valid points, you would still think that Seokjin would contradict some of them. You know, like the accusation of the two of you being on a date? So it was a shock when he approached you with open arms and a huge smile while saying, “AH! There’s my sugar queen! Flameo, hotman! I was beginning to think you’ve bailed on me.”

You stepped back even before he got the chance to hug you.

“Uh what the heck is this all about?” You were pointing out the ridiculousness of him acting like the two of you twinning was planned but he thought you were talking about his fortune telling booth.

“Oh you know me! As a theatre arts major, I can’t help it when situations arise that forces me to slip into a different character.”

You looked at him unamused. “That’s literally a mental disorder you just described and literally, NO ONE forced you to do this. That prop was happily chilling in the background and you just have to go and torment it.”

He shushed you with a finger to your lips and it took all the will in you to not bite it off. “You’re just saying that cause you haven’t tried getting my expert opinion.”

“Expert opinion- You know what? Whatever! I don't have the patience to do this right now. I'm out here looking for my date so this night could get better. So why don't you just tell everybody here that we are not- hmmp!" Seokjin's rather large hands covered your entire face to shut you up or maybe slap you. Honestly you weren't sure. He was intending to cover your mouth but in his haste, he managed to smack you instead.

"Hey, guess what? I think you're the only person here I haven't told their fortune yet! That's just a shame, that won't do. No, no, no. What's that? You wanna go now? What a brilliant idea! Let's go, sugar queen!", he said all that in one breathing then pushed you towards "his" fortune telling booth that YOU had set up before the sun even rose this morning.

It was a very small purple tent (Actually, it was just a massive piece of cloth hanging from a tree trunk) with a little table set up and a crystal ball in the centre. He yanked the front part close for some privacy and you think you've never been more repelled in your entire life. To be stuck in such a small confinement with Seokjin and his ten foot wide shoulders is something that should be illegal.

He pushed you aside so he could sit at "his" table with you nearly falling through the cloth at the process. Once he's settled, he looks at you expectantly with a huge grin as if you actually wanted to get your fortune read by him. As if you volunteered yourself to be in this position.

His brain really is something and whatever that something is, you don't even want to try and decipher it.

Against your better judgement, you dragged yourself to sit in front of him. You're already here, might as well just try and enjoy the ride. Right?

Your butt had barely touched your seat and Seokjin was already declaring some insights about your future.

"Your future is full of struggle and anguish. Most of it, self-inflicted.", he said in all seriousness.

And of course, this is just some mischievous way to rile you up. What else did you expect from this guy? Or better yet, why do you even bother with him?

"You're not even gonna read my palms or bust out some tarot cards? Maybe do a little gazing into the crystal ball?"

"I didn't need to. It's written all over your face."

It took you a second to realise that he just directly quoted from Avatar again. You are quite annoyed at his childishness and slightly amused at his apparently extensive knowledge for Avatar references.

"I'm gonna give you the count of three to get the hell out of my face. If you're still here, I'll make sure your destiny ends right here." You replied, also quoting from the series.

He chuckled at your threat, finding it real cute just how easy it is for him to irritate you. "Okay, calm down. No need to get murderous."

"One."

"Hey, it's not my fault you're bound for failure!"

"Two!"

"Wait, are you actually being serious now?"

"THREE!", you yelled and lunged at the scarred boy.

He made a high pitched scream as you went and grabbed one of his shoulders. Your tiny chair went tumbling down and the crystal ball rolled off to the ground in your vicious movements.

"Please, not the face! Anything but the face! It's too VIP!"

"Oh, I'll make sure that stupid scar becomes a permanent part of your face!"

One of his hands were on your arm while the other was held tightly around your hand that was trying to claw his "VIP" face. For a small person, you seem to be putting up a big fight against him.

The scene that was unfolding inside that small tent is a sight to behold. If anyone ever walked in right now, they definitely would think that a more salacious thing is going to go down. All of the ruckus the two of you are making can probably be heard from the outside. But the both of you are too out of it to even consider the embarrassment you might get if someone barges in. Which is why you didn’t notice Jimin’s head poke inside the tent.

"Wow you guys. If y'all wanted a room, you could've just asked. As a very supportive friend, I would gladly give you one." The voice of Jimin rang from behind you and you instantly let go of each other, feeling a bit flustered.

"It's not what it looks like!", you tried reasoning with the boy. "He's being his usual little shit self and I'm just trying to purge it out of his system!"

Jimin, equally being a little shit like his older friend, brushed your reasoning aside. "Y/n, y/n, y/n. Out of all the people here, you're really the one to mess this perfectly set up prop? Didn't us setting this up at midnight meant anything to you? Couldn't you have just let Seokjin hyung here to peacefully give you his readings?"

You rolled your eyes at him. “Can you just shut up? Also, you knew this shithead was using our prop and you just let him be?”

“Of course he did! He’s taking 25% of my total earnings tonight.” Seokjin muttered.

“Total earnings- You’re making people pay for your made up bullshit?!” You hollered at the wide shouldered guy. Why are you even surprised about this? It’s Seokjin we are talking about. He could probably convince people to pay him just by walking past him.

“Oh you bet! But don’t fret, I’m not gonna charge you. With that kind of fate that you have, I’m sure you need every bit of kindness.”

Steam could might as well visibly come out of your ears right now with how enraged you are at him. You wanted to strangle him, bloodbend even. You didn’t have the chance to do anything though because Jimin was pulling you away. “Would you two stop with the lover’s quarrel for like a goddamned minute?”

He shoved you outside then did the same to Seokjin. “Everyone’s already inside about to play games and you two are still out here, too busy being all over each other!”

Jimin didn’t even need to say anything else or to further force you two. Just the word “games” made you both run inside at record speed. If people got real competitive with the costume contest, the halloween games are a whole other thing. Usually, after an hour or so since the party has started, the Parks hold a series of halloween themed games. The winners get various coupons. They aren’t as good as a free four course meal but that’s better than nothing especially if we're talking about the Park’s restaurant.

Sometimes, these games are done in groups but usually it’s in pairs. You weren't surprised that this year, all games are going to be done in pairs but unlike recent years, the games are going to be done in a "last man standing" manner. You knew all of this since you helped pick these games. You'd be more hyped up about them if it weren't for the fact that you don't have a pair to play with.

All these talk about games reminded you of Taehyung. You completely forgot you were supposed to look for him. But it became clear to you that he didn't really come when almost everyone who you came across with to your walk back inside pretty much assumed that Seokjin was your date. They all made some comment regarding your matching outfits which Seokjin didn't even try to deny. He was just gobbling up their compliments.

You listened to Freddie Mercury and Patrick Star explain the mechanics of this year's "Halloween Olympics". Now, what you didn't know was that they also changed the prize system. Apparently, they upped the prize since it's going to be a bit more difficult to win and there's only going to be one winning pair. This year, the winning pair is also going to win a free dinner. That got people buzzing.

With that, Luna explained that only the first 20 pairs to find a small, red, and hidden [word redacted] could compete in the games. Chaos ensued as you watch everyone scour around the house. All at once, you felt like you don't want to be competing against anyone in this room. Everyone seemed too terrifying as they went berserk. But alas, tonight doesn't seem like your night.

One by one, pairs came towards the siblings with their [word redacted] until only one was left hidden. Some guy, for some stupid reason, made the wrong decision to point and scream out the location of the last one. Obviously, everyone else made a beeline towards it.

Everything went in a complete blur for you. All you remember was seeing a tall guy in red jump for it. Then you were yanked by the said guy. Next thing you know, you were competing in the first game. Well, “competing” is a strong word. Seeing as you were dragged here unexpectedly without your consent and were in a total daze, your partner took full control of the reins. Now that you're coming back to your senses, you think this is for the best if you want to win. For once in his life, he can finally put his frat boy skills to good use.

The first game was announced to be a game of eyeball beer pong. It seems like the siblings are trying to get people drunk this early. You guess it’s a good strategy to easily kick people out of the games. But you and your partner ain’t going to be one of them. You watch your partner make perfect shots after shots, hitting every cup of the opposing pair. It wasn’t long before you both had won and eliminated the other pair.

“I can’t believe we lost! I really thought we had it in the bag.” One of the other guys had the audacity to say in front of Kim Seokjin, a true blue frat boy.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself! You were never even a player.” Seokjin muttered to the guy and held his hand up to you as if you were actually going to give him a high five. Instead, you gave him a long hard stare as cold as any of the water tribes. Any sane person would be decent enough to feel remorseful. He didn’t. Instead, he grabbed one of your wrists and gave himself a high five.

You smacked him upside his head. “You insolent fool!” You hollered like a villain in a Disney movie.

“Yah! What was that for?” his feigned innocence made you want to tear out not only his hair but also your own.

“You think I want to compete with you?”

He crossed his arms and slowly shook his head at you. Almost as if he is disappointed in you. “Tsk tsk tsk. I carried the whole bench and this is what I get from you? Just say ‘thank you’ and go.”

You scoffed. “For your information, I didn’t ask to be paired with you. You just yanked me from nowhere!”

“Well then, you're welcome, sugar queen!”

“YOU’RE WELCOME?? I don’t want to be paired with you!”

Your seething rage seems to somewhat alarm him. “Okay, okay, calm down!” You opened your mouth to interrupt him but he didn’t let you. “I admit that I did just yanked you and didn’t ask for your permission. Sure, that wasn’t really cool. BUT! In my defense, I was so deep in my competitive zone that I didn’t take the time to notice who I was pulling.”

He looked at you to see if you had anything to say but the annoyance remained etched on your face so he continued reasoning with you. “Listen, we both just want the same thing and that is to win. That ain't happening to you seeing as you're all alone. So really, I kinda did you a favor here. Come on, it'll be fun!"

You hate to admit it, but he does have a point. Maybe it's not that bad of an idea to pair up tonight. You both are pretty competitive. Besides, you do need a little cheering up err- a distraction, I mean.

"I guess we could try and not tear each other apart even just for tonight. This is for a good cause. We do both really want that free meal. Fine, I'll call truce for now." You finally conceded and held your hand out to him. He took it and you shook hands.

"I'm glad you're seeing it my way. Because to be honest, you're not winning a free meal with that costume." He confidently said with a shit eating grin.

You squeezed his hand a little too tightly and ignored his yelps of pain. "And neither will you because guess what?! Your scar is on the wrong side!"

"Ah! I knew someone's gonna tell me that sometime tonight. I can't even be mad at that reference."

"No Seokjin. Your scar really is on the wrong side."

"Yeah, and tea is just hot leaf juice."

"Uh, it really is though. But I repeat, your scar’s on the wrong side, buddy!"

“No it’s not.”

“Believe it or not, it is!”

"Are you actually being serious?"

You let out a really long sigh of disbelief to what you'll have to put up with. This is for sure going to be a long night.

To your surprise, the night did not go on as a drag. The next game did start off rocky with you not being able to guess any of the given Halloween charades. Either you are not as cultured as you think you are or you just don't get the mind of a theatre major. Or maybe, it's just his mind you don't understand, to be honest.

"How on earth was that Silence of the Lambs?!"

"What do you mean 'how on earth was that Silence of the Lambs'? What else does this even mean?" He replied while acting like his arms are pinned to his sides then proceeded to cover his mouth and then did a fluttering motion with one of his hands that seemed to be coming out of his lips.

"That could literally mean anything! For all I know, that could mean The Mummy!"

He scoffed at you as if you just told him the most offensive thing in the world. "The Mummy?? Oh, you are absolutely hopeless. We are so doomed if we keep letting you guess."

"No, we are SO doomed if we let you act out the things! You dare call yourself a theatre major?" To any other person, you would think that your comment is in fact just downright offensive. But that's not the case with you two because it seems like you could push all the wrong buttons of the other person and somehow still not end up really hurting anyone. You wouldn’t admit it, but maybe both of you find this weird comfort in these silly banters and in the midst of it all, you've unknowingly built some form of bond.

You collectively agree to switch roles and just like that, the tides shifted. The two of you were suddenly getting the correct guesses each round. At the very last round, you drew the movie Caroline from the witch hat. If it were you and Luna playing, you guys would have guessed this in a heartbeat since it's your favorite movie. But you're with Seokjin and you are extremely positive that he has never even seen the movie.

When the one minute and thirty second counter started to tick down, you immediately made a circle around one of your eyes and made a sewing motion to it. You thought it couldn't be anymore obvious than that but he just stared at you. By the time forty seconds have passed, your hope for him trickled down. You could hear the opposing pair celebrating prematurely on the side which ticked you off so much.

Your sewing motions got a lot more aggressive as you gave Seokjin the most desperate look you could ever give him. He in turn, gave you a very rare apologetic look. Yup, you guys were doomed from the beginning. All you can think of is how much this night really sucks for you. You probably should have stayed at home.

Once everyone started counting down from fifteen, you bid goodbye to the grand prize. The idea of it was just too good to be true. You stopped with your motions and gave Seokjin a small nod of defeat. He acknowledged this by giving you a slow nod as well and this seemed like the end for your pair. His gaze on you, however, flitted towards something or someone from behind you. His eyes stayed there for a good five seconds, appearing to be in deep concentration. You didn't even have the chance to look back since right before the audience counted to one, Seokjin was screaming the correct answer.

"CORALINE! It's Coraline! Of course, how could I not know?" He announces while flapping his arms wildy just a second before the timer rings. Everyone cheered at this sudden victory. The turn of events left you stunned. You thought for sure he wouldn't get it. He just keeps surprising you.

Seokjin approached you with a huge smile on his face and you can't help but return it to him. Not only that, you gave him a big hug which caught him off guard. You didn't know what came over you to do that but it felt like the right thing to do. He didn't seem to show any signs of protest as well.

"What the fuck? I really thought that was the end of the line for us!" You told him after sharing a brief hug.

"You really need to put a little trust on me. What can I say? I'm a genius." Just like that, you went back to wanting to punch his face again.

Rolling your eyes, you murmured, "Did the definition of genius change in the last 100 years?"

While you turned your attention to Jimin who was already announcing the next game, Seokjin glanced towards Luna and gave her a smile. Unbeknownst to you, this so-called "genius" partner of yours actually had help. He, did in fact, was never going to get the correct guess. He has never seen Coraline nor does he know anything about it. But your best friend, Luna, decided that she wanted to keep you two in the games so she tried so hard to discreetly mouth "Coraline" to Seokjin a couple of times.

You didn't need to know that though.

He didn't mind receiving a few assistance to win, but it does hurt his pride and it will hurt more if you find out. Fortunately for Seokjin, he didn't need any further helping hands. Even from you.

Either the games are too easy or you're just completely and utterly incapable because Seokjin pretty much breezed through them without even batting an eye. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's trying to impress someone. You, maybe? Wait, no. That doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that? Besides, he made sure to gloat on you everytime your pair wins with you contributing nothing.

A couple of games and one harrowing round of What's Inside the Box later, just six pairs remained. It wasn't exactly all fun and games since along the way, your pair or rather, Seokjin made a rivalry against another pair. This couple dressed up as Team Rocket really got on his nerves. You can't blame him though. They kept on flirting with each other after every round and not to mention, they also kept taunting you two. You'll bloodbend them if you hear "Prepare for trouble and make it double" one more time before a game starts. To be fair, they do play very well. Actually, they seem to be the only other pair that puts up a good fight.

By this time, everyone has migrated outside for the last few games. For this one, as you already knew, you'll be playing blindfolded bean bag toss. One person would have to guide the other as they go through three different levels. The pairs that don't make it through would obviously get eliminated.

"Oh, we are so gonna dominate on this one!" You hear the girl dressed up as Jessie says.

"For sure. Why don't they all just pretend to be a tree and leave?" The guy dressed up as James condescendingly said and they both laughed out loud at his joke.

You visibly cringed at that. Can they get anymore intolerable? That's saying a lot coming from someone who knows Seokjin, arguably the most abhorrent creature in your life. Jeez, and you thought his jokes were the worst.

Seokjin made a gagging noise beside you, voicing out your sentiments. You can't help but laugh out loud with him until Patrick and Freddie approached you two.

"Okay, who's going to lead and who's the blindfold wearer between you two?" Patrick said and snickered a little after realising the other implications of his question. This little shit.

"Well, seeing as her skills are lacking, I'm gonna once again step up to the plate and handle this one." Seokjin reached for the blindfold but you snatched it from Luna's hand before he could.

You can't just let this night go down like this. Honestly, you're kind of having fun watching all the chaos ensue from the sidelines. But you're a woman of honour. You can't possibly go for a win while doing the bare minimum. You dare dress up as Katara and let some man take over?

"I'll be playing this one." You calmly but confidently declared.

"Sugar queen, I love the assertiveness. But I think you should-"

"I'm playing this one." You interrupted him with such firmness in your tone, they couldn't do anything but just nod to you.

Hell no are you gonna let Seokjin annihilate this night all by himself. You need to prove that you can match up to him. You'll show his stupidly pretty face and wrongly placed scar not to mess with your capabilities.

You took a long hard look at the three targets. Each one going higher and farther than the one before. You are to be given a practice round each level to get your bearings. Yada yada yada. You tuned the siblings out, of course you already knew all this. As the person who placed the goals, you'd think you have the upper hand. You were overly confident, bordering the line of cockiness, that you could do this. You even had the audacity to sneer at Team Rocket when they uttered their catchphrase to you.

You watched each pair try and make their shot. Surprisingly, everyone made it. That only added fuel to your fire. You were excited. You couldn't wait to finally do something. On top of that, Seokjin kept muttering things to you that if they can do it then so can you.

When it's your time to play, you are extremely buzzing. Going last is always an overwhelming feeling. All that built up confidence died down though the second you put on your blindfold. The darkness that enveloped you instantly made you feel unbalanced and disoriented. Confusingly, it's as if all your other senses heightened but it also felt like they all shut down at the same time.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You chant in your mind as you feel your awareness of your surroundings slip from you.

This is not good. Why did you subject yourself into doing this, again? You should've let Seokjin play when he had the chance. You clearly cannot do this.

In the midst of your swelling panic, you feel hands place on both of your shoulders. You jumped at the unexpected contact but it was just Seokjin. "You can do this, Okay? Just focus on me." He whispered in your ear with such comfort and softness that you had to shiver a little.

He rubbed small circles on your back with his thumbs, soothing you for a second until Luna gave you the go signal.

You slowly walk as straight as you possibly can even if you feel like toppling over the entire time. Please don't. The entire time, Seokjin was behind you. You halted when he told you and to the best of your abilities, you "delicately", as he instructed you to, tossed the bag to the left.

"Okay, that was shit." He truthfully told you in a nice tone as you hear the people around begin tittering at what you assumed to be such a horrible shot. You think you just heard Team Rocket announcing their victory. Shit, shit, shit, shit. You are royally fucked.

"Seokjin..." You can't help but whine, your anxiety creeping up ten fold.

"Hey, hey, hey. That's fine! What are practice rounds for?" He tried easing you.

"But everyone-'

"Forget about everyone. It's just you and me right now. Calm down and focus." The gentleness of his words and the lulling of his voice somehow allowed your breakdown to dissipate a little. If you're in a better state, you'd be surprised at how he is behaving towards you. You'd probably dismiss it and reason that he just badly wants to win. That's the only fitting explanation.

Sensing that you've calmed down a little bit, he let out a breath that he unconsciously has been holding. Your sudden mood shift made him really nervous. "Okay, sugar queen. I know you're a waterbender but mind channeling a little bit of your inner Toph for now? Just try and maybe get in tune with the surroundings? Come on, you set this thing up. Can’t you, like, use that to your advantage somehow?”

Easier said than done. But the way he’s practically cooing at you as he talks makes you want to subconsciously do anything for him right now. He could ask you to go find him a dragon egg and you’d most probably follow his orders blindly. Which is a concerning thought that you’d mull over later. For now, you focus only on his voice and try your best to toss the bean bag inside the goal.

You took a deep breath and said you're ready to attempt your shot. Seokjin instructed you to make your throw a bit more vigorous. By how much? You have no idea. Hell, you don’t even remember how hard you threw your last shot. This is literally all up to chance, if we’re being real. So you prayed to every spirit out there to put all odds in your favour.

Around you, some people began cheering. Some people were kind of waiting for you to completely miss again to get some good laughs out of it. Other pairs were taunting you, making a distraction. But you tried your hardest to tune them all out. Right now, all you can focus on is your aim and the nice words Seokjin is throwing at you. With shaking hands, you make a swing with what you hope is enough force to get to the next level.

You weren’t aware of it but to everyone else, it’s as if time went in slow motion. People’s heads comedically followed the direction of your bean bag. Your two best friends were both wide eyed, Jimin had both of his palms on the top of his head and Luna had her mouth wide opened. Seokjin stood nervously behind you with his hands intertwined in front of his lips as if reciting a prayer. Your bean bag’s hang time felt like an eternity but it was more than enough to realise that you still weren’t going to be able to make it. Seokjin almost cried on the spot at that realisation until your bean bag hit the rim of the basket. That split second of it hitting the rim made all the difference in the world. Everyone literally went silent as the bean bag bounced off the rim and went straight inside the basket.

With your vision completely obscured, you were clueless to all the spectacle that’s happening. In contrast to everyone, everything went in fast forward to you. Right after you made your shot, you instantly heard people yelling your name and a pair of arms encaged you from the back. Seokjin lifted you up and started spinning you around, obviously a sign that you made it.

With everyone’s reaction, you would think you made a championship winning shot. You don’t really understand the hype but you were just glad that you did it and it did wonders to your confidence.

“I told you that you were doing great! You just need to follow my voice.” Seokjin told you as he set you down and you took your blindfold off. Everyone still kept cheering wildly as Luna declared the start of the second round.

“Well, it is hard to ignore.” You joked at him but for some reason it made him blush. If his long hair weren’t hiding his ears, you would also see how harshly they’re flushing. He didn’t have a witty comeback and just avoided your gaze. He is flustered. How cute. You openly thought to yourself without even feeling an ounce of shame. It seems that the tides are indeed shifting and you’re not even fighting against the current.

The game continued with less dramatics, oddly enough. Even more odd is that you easily made it through the entire game. In the end, you weren’t even sure why you panicked in the first place. Two pairs got eliminated so you are now down to four. That’s fortunate for you. What’s unfortunate is that Team Rocket still hasn’t blasted off.

The next game was a round of Paper Dance. You were relieved that you both had to actively participate on this one and not have one of you slacking off to the side. You weren’t quite relieved when you remembered the mechanics of the game. Basically. You are given a sheet of newspaper and are forced to dance around it. When the music stops, both persons need to step inside the paper and stay there. Every round, the paper gets folded in half so the pair gets pretty close and intimate with each other.

The thought made you nervous and you slightly broke into a sweat. You were feeling rather uncomfortable with your heavy layers so you opt to take off your outer coat. Some tall and lanky guy dressed up as a sunflower, which you believe is also one of Jimin's close friends, started hollering, “Take it off now girl, just take it off!”

As objectifying his words are, you choose to laugh at how ridiculous he looked. A soft delicate flower uttering such promiscuous things. You thought maybe humour could divert your fluttering heart long enough for one pair to get eliminated so you could all move on to the next game. It didn’t, of course, what were you even expecting?

As the newspaper shrank, the more agitated you became. The fact that it was taking so long for one pair to get eliminated makes you weak in the knees and you don’t know if it’s a positive or a negative reaction. At this moment, the paper is still relatively in a decent size but it could only accommodate one pair of feet inside. Due to your lack of communication, you both stepped one foot inside when the music stopped and you collided with one another rather harshly. You immediately went flying down to the ground but Seokjin managed to grab your arm and pull you towards him. Once you were flush against each other, both of you instinctively wrapped an arm around the other person to gain balance.

The action might have saved you both from getting eliminated but it definitely put you two in quite a dangerous spot. Just like when you were blindfolded a while ago, everything around you tuned out and all you can focus on is you and Seokjin. Only this time, you weren’t facing just an empty dark abyss. You were face to face with the dark abyss of his eyes. Your faces were mere centimeters away. An hour ago, you would willingly defenestrate yourself, horrified at the idea of getting this close to this guy. But right now, as you two stare and hold on to each other, you weren’t so repelled. Neither is he.

You two were just getting comfortable with each other if it weren’t for Jimin blatantly calling you out for this really personal moment. “Oi! The music is back up! You two can get back to your lovey dovey moment later but for now we game.” The actual buffoon roared at the mic. His very public comment made everyone start hollering and teasing the two of you. Just like that, you went back to square one, an awkward mess.

At one point, Seokjin almost fell off when he gave you a piggyback ride. You thought it was either because you were too tense to even jump properly on his back or you are just plain heavy. You’re not even sure which option is better. The way that you are so conscious around him has never been a problem to you. You have an inkling as to why this is happening but you refuse to say it to yourself.

While you mentally kept cursing yourself, Seokjin was having the same problems. He was too shaky to properly hold you. He too was cursing at himself for acting so muddled around you all of a sudden. This is getting pretty bad. He needed to get a hold of himself fast. By that, he means go back to being a cat and mouse with you. In other words, go back to insulting you. But his inner self is telling him to just let this moment be and to let himself indulge in it.

Another agonising round later, one pair finally got eliminated. Thankfully for that, Seokjin was only tiptoeing on one foot at this point whilst carrying you. You, on the other hand, had other reasons to be thankful for.

Now, you were down to just three pairs. The semi finals are up next so you really need to get back to your senses. You are so close to achieving the grand prize. Remembering what the next game is, you knew you were monumentally screwed.

The semi finals, as Jimin is explaining, would be a bat doughnut eating contest. Five doughnuts shaped in a bat are individually hung on a string in their clothesline and both pairs would have to stand on either side, eating them all as fast as they could without using their hands. Both pairs are only allowed to work on one doughnut at a time. Now, that’s just on a completely different level of invasion of personal space. But you can’t blame anyone because you came up with half of these games, including this one.

“Let’s quickly push through this one.” Seokjin told you from his side. “We can’t let the others win. Remember, only the first two pairs get in the finals.”

You admire how composed he is right now. Why can’t you be as unaffected as he is? This is for the sake of the grand prize. Do you even want it? If yes, then you badly need to keep your eyes on the prize and nothing else. Definitely not on Seokjin, or on his piercing eyes, or his soft looking lips. NO STOP. Just what on earth is happening to you?

Realising you haven’t given him an answer, you simply nodded. With that, you heard the go signal and all three pairs started devouring the doughnuts.

They are [word redacted] flavoured. Of course, what did you expect? You try not to gag at that and you also try to avoid accidentally making out with Seokjin while making sure you eat the entire thing at lightning speed. There were way too many things going on at the same time for you to handle. Your brain could not possibly keep up. It’s like your brain and body were being controlled by two separate things.

One doughnut down and you move on to the next one, then the next one, and the next one. “That’s it, keep going!” Seokjin kept on muttering motivating words whenever he could. Again, how could he be so composed at a time like this? Somehow along the way, your brain completely shut down and your body went into autopilot. The two of you fell into an unspoken strategy of having sides so to have some boundaries. The moon spirit knows you badly need that.

Your pair is on the lead when you reach your fourth doughnut. For the first time since this game started, you felt comfortable. Did you stay like that for the entire game? Of course not. Naturally, the universe just loves aggravating you tonight.

Half way through your fourth doughnut, you accidentally brushed lips with Seokjin. The action was absolutely brief, but it was enough to halt you two and send tingles that you would feel throughout your body down to the tips of your toes. You two stared at each other for a second too long because Luna was announcing Team Rocket to have taken the lead. You two couldn’t care less though. For the third time tonight, all you could focus on is each other.

Wide eyes filled with something you two are too embarrassed to accept, lips slightly molding into shy smiles, and faces covered with icing and powdered sugar. In that moment, you two seemed to have some sort of self understanding that didn’t need to be said.

The moment didn’t last though. As brief as your little kiss was, you two were back at the game instantaneously. The other pair seemed to have gotten past you two as well. With a new found comfortness, you find yourselves working together without anymore awkwardness. You were back to your old competitive selves. You gobbled up the doughnuts at a jaw dropping speed. All that matters now, is winning especially since Team Rocket is advancing to the finals. The two of you didn’t even bat an eye when your lips would unintentionally touch a couple of times in your haste. You certainly weren’t complaining about it now. As a matter of fact, you felt him linger a few times. So were they really unintentional? We would never know.

You amazingly caught up with the last pair even with a few cheeky antics on the side. The two of you are currently on top of the world and just breezing through. For sure, you would end up beating them. There is no need to worry about anything.

What sealed the deal was when one person of the remaining pair mildly choked at a particularly large chunk that she had swallowed. You two took that opportunity to finish up your fifth and final doughnut. You swallowed for the last time and cheered for your partner to finish chewing. Everyone else was completely yelling at this point, it was such a euphoric feeling. Once Seokjin finished, you went and engulfed the larger man as best as you could in a bone crushing hug.

You two were all laughs, happily celebrating even if you haven’t won yet. “We are so going to come home with that prize.” You declared with such finality while you break away from the hug. You kept each other very close though.

“Oh yeah? You’re not gonna freak out on me again?” He teased you but you can’t help but just hit him.

“Only if you keep yourself in check.” You playfully replied. You fell into a comfortable silence, once again staring at each other with shy smiles. His eyes dropped to your lips for a second and you felt compelled to lean in. When he realised what you were allowing him to do, he leaned in too. You were slowly leaning towards each other, taking your sweet time and savoring every second of it. Your lips were pretty much fully touching, you could feel the warmth and softness of his.

“You’re lucky that chick choked up.” James, whatever his real name is, from Team Rocket woefully stepped into your moment. It took every fibre in you to not punch the guy.

“She’s obviously inexperienced. Couldn’t be me!” Jessie quipped and they both started laughing together. This time, it took every fibre in you to not bash their heads together. But as mentioned before, you are a woman of honour. You are willing to take the higher road and settle this fairly through the games.

Seokjin, well, he is Seokjin so he didn’t let the two slide so easily.

He let go of you and approached the two. He laughed along with them in such a forced and sarcastic laugh that it pained you. “Yeah, you’re right. We are lucky!” He said then squished himself in between the couple and placed his arms around them. What on earth is he on about, now?

“We definitely were just born lucky. But at least we’re not like other people who are only lucky to be born. Right, hotmen?” He said and slapped their arms in a playful manner but ended up being too hard. He left them completely offended, sauntering back to you with his windshield wiper laugh that you know all too well.

"Was that necessary?" You scolded him with both hands on your hips.

"Don't be such a Katara! I know you're dressed as her but please don't take it too seriously. Unless you really do want to be a sugar queen?" He wagged his eyebrows irritatingly.

You rolled your eyes at his usual foolishness. Glad to know he hasn't gotten fully soft on you. You would prefer for him to stick to his playfulness even if it annoys the crap out of you.

"And then there were two." Jimin starts, grabbing everyone's attention. Yeah just two left and it just had to be with Team Rocket. Oh, it would feel even better to win knowing you were up against them.

You were one step closer from a satisfying free full course meal cooked by Jimin and Luna's parents. Is that heaven or what? In the middle of fantasising and practically drooling about the impending prize, it dawned on you that once you win, (Yes, once and not if) you'd have to go on that dinner with Seokjin. An actual dinner. As in a date???

The thought made you slightly pale. You don't get why the thought of going on a date with him made you all nervous when you were practically stealing kisses from each other just awhile ago. The idea of going serious with him is nerve-wracking when just this evening, you wanted nothing more than to punch his guts. Now, you still do want to punch his guts but also kiss him.

You needed to snap out of it. All you did tonight is think of this guy. You were probably overthinking things. He probably doesn't even want anything serious with you. Maybe, he's just playing with you. Wait, no. That's too cruel even for him.

Your internal battle was stopped when Seokjin, himself, flicked your forehead.

"Oww! What was that for?" You grumply asked as you rubbed the sore spot.

"Your brain seems to be flying a couple hundred miles away. Y/n, now is not the time to be daydreaming about me. Did you even catch what I said?" Is he a mind reader? Most definitely not but even so, you are too embarrassed to say anything so you quietly hummed to him.

"What do you think? You agree with me?" You absentmindedly hummed again.

He clapped his hands together so loud, it made you jump out of your haze. "Good! That settles it. You're bobbing then."

"I'm sorry, come again?" You think you misheard him but it sounded like he said you're going bobbing? As in bobbing apples? What?

He stared at your dumbfounded expression. He realised that you weren't listening to the siblings' explanation and you obviously weren't also listening to his plan of attack just a few seconds ago.

He sighed and repeated everything to you even if he didn't want to. "We're bobbing apples for the last game. Since I don't want to ruin my perfectly good scar, you're up for it."

You scoffed. "And I want to ruin my perfectly good hair and makeup?"

"Hair dries off and without your makeup, you're still Katara. I, on the other hand, would just be some random handsome firebender without my scar. So really, it's better that you do it."

"But I don't want to do it!"

"Well boo hoo for you. You already agreed to it." He said and dragged you towards a large basin near Jimin and Luna.

"Wait, no I wasn't fully aware of the situation!"

"That's what you get for zoning out at a crucial time. It's too late now, you already agreed. A consent is a consent."

He was seriously being mean right now. You pulled your arm back to stop him but he wouldn't let go of you. So you kept your feet planted firmly on the ground. It ended up looking like he was dragging a very stubborn kid. "Y/n quit playing around! You need to do this."

"But Seokjin, I really don't want to do this." Your innocent looking eyes paired with that same whining voice that you used when you didn't make your first shot with the bean bag instantly turned him soft.

He stopped pulling you and placed a hand on your neck. The way he is genuinely looking at you makes you think that he'll probably switch with you. He didn't. Big shocker.

"Y/n, I know you don't want to do it but you need to." He started using that gentle voice of his that he used on you earlier. You knew you were a goner now. He's definitely found your weakness and he isn't afraid to use it on you. Curse him and his captivating soothing voice. What are you supposed to do now other than obey him?

"I, without a doubt, believe that you can do this. I'm sure you can defeat those two wobbuffets over there and we'd win! Don't you want that?" You nod your head yes.

"So will you please do me the favour of winning this game for us?" You nod your head yes without thinking twice. So much for being a woman of honour.

He smiled at you and caressed his thumb over your cheek. "Good girl." He said and you'll be damned if you're not going to do whatever it takes for him to call you that again. Forget everything. You want him to call you that again.

That is why you find yourself involuntarily walking up to the water and apple filled basin assigned to you.

"Step aside, filth." Seokjin jokingly muttered at James from Team Rocket. You hear Jimin and Luna giggle but you were too out of it to even appreciate his Zuko reference.

To your left, Jessie stands in front of her basin. She gives you a sly smirk and winks at you condescendingly. You want to burn your eyeballs.

You can't believe you're in this position. You can't believe you would willingly let your hair, makeup, and quite possibly even your costume get ruined. Lastly, you can't believe at just how much power Seokjin has had over you in a single night.

You stared hard at the apples. You've only bobbed for apples once when you were nine and it was one of the worst things you've ever done. You weren't even able to successfully capture an apple with how bad you were. Well, you're back more than ten years later and you're back with a newly found determination. Vengeance will be yours.

You hear Luna count down from three.

Seokjin's "Good girl" rang inside your head. No one's letting this magenta haired girl beside you win. You gripped the sides of the basin hard. Alright apples, it's time to face your doom!

"...One and go!"

Inhaling a sharp breath, you plunge your face inside the deep basin. You tried to keep your eyes open to see the apples but it was proving to be difficult as light was barely passing through the metal basin. Nonetheless, you kept biting around until you reached one apple. You tossed it outside the basin and took another breath, repeating the same actions.

You don't know how many times you did your little routine. All you know is that this is the longest minute of your life and you just want it to end so much. You were having such a miserable time. Your snot, your saliva, and even your sweat too were mixing with the water. Even though you avoid it so badly, you still manage to drink the water in your haste. Some of it even got inside your nose at one point. Bobbing for apples just might be one of the most disgusting things you could ever do. This must bloody well be worth it in the end.

Everytime you come out of the water, you hear the cheers of the people. You most certainly hear your partner, ear piercingly shrieking your name. It further feeds into your hunger to win. You don't care if you look absolutely ridiculous or that you were probably gonna end up throwing up later. All that matters is to win this for you and Seokjin.

At long last, Jimin blows an air horn to dramatically end the game. You came up gasping and snorting for air. How fucking graceful and beautiful. Seokjin rushes to you with a towel in his hand and wraps it around you right away. He pats you dry, careful to not smudge your very wet makeup.

Luna began making a speech on how much fun this year's Halloween Olympics were. You didn't pay much attention to her as Seokjin kept murmuring words of affirmation while he was still gently patting you dry. In all honesty, you could've done that yourself. But after what you were just subjected to, you definitely could use a little pampering.

"Again, thank you to everyone who participated in the games. As for the rest, you've been absolutely wonderful, cheering our players. Until next year's Halloween Olympics!" Luna concluded. Well, they did more than cheer, alright.

"And now, let's count the apples these lovely ladies bobbed so we can find out this year's victors!" Jimin continued and everyone counted magenta head's apples with him.

"Twelve apples in total!" Everyone cheered wildly and you felt your heart clench. That's a lot. What if you had less?

"Twelve?? Ha! Suck on that!" James ridiculed.

Seokjin just glared at him and he grabbed hold of one of your hands. He squeezed it tightly as everyone started counting your apples. Oh please be higher than twelve, please be higher than twelve, please be higher than twelve, please, oh please, oh please.

"Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen!"

"A grand total of eighteen apples! Wow that's a lot more! Which means we have this year's victors!" Jimin announced.

Eighteen? You bobbed six more apples than her? Wow, your nine year old self would be proud of you now.

Seokjin couldn't contain himself, he grabbed you by your waist and lifted you up in an embrace. "Y'all hear that? My girl just beat your asses badly! Suck on my poké balls!" He finally cracked and straight up insulted Team Rocket while still holding you up. You ignored the sickly sweet feeling that bubbled inside you when he referred to you as “my girl”.

"You will never rise from the ashes of your shame and humiliation!" Instead of a maniacal laugh, his windshield wiper laugh came out. The punchline was already perfect if only his stupid laugh didn't ruin it. As annoying as it is, you didn’t seem to be complaining about his laugh now in your head unlike always. Actually, it’s kind of endearing in a way. Crazy to think just how much one night can change. You wonder what happens now to the two of you.

Jimin and Luna called the both of you up on their makeshift stage to properly announce your rain of terror- I mean, your victory. Along with that, they are also going to announce the winner for best in costume. With all the action that’s been happening, people have forgotten that the awarding for best in costume is actually the main event of the night.

As Seokjin predicted earlier, you didn’t win. Some guy, Jung something something, dressed up as Shrek won by popular voting. You think he is also a part of Jimin’s friend group. You can’t be too sure as there are too many guys in that circle of friends for you to care. Which leads you to believe that maybe Jimin did some rigging of the results because his Shrek costume kinda deserves to be kicked out of the swamp. Not that you care though. As far as you’re concerned, you already won the grand prize as well.

“Told ya, you wouldn’t win best costume.” Seokjin says as you leave the stage.

“Neither did you. All because your scar is definitely on the wrong side.”

He groaned loudly. “You’re never gonna drop that, aren’t you?”

You laugh, thinking just how stupid he is for messing up his scar. For someone who seems to be able to quote directly from the show with ease, it’s really funny that he would overlook such a crucial detail.

“Neverrr!” You said in a singsong voice.

“Whatever.” He said while waving his hand in a dismissing manner. “It’s not like anyone else noticed it. I guess you were paying too much attention to my face, huh?”

You blushed at his remark. “Jeez, get over yourself, will you?”

You rushed your steps towards the house to leave him. You are sure Jimin and Luna are now tearing it down on the dance floor. He easily caught up with you though with those long legs of his and draped an arm over your shoulders.

Cackling at your flusteredness, he said, “Okay, then! So let’s say you weren’t gawking at me the entire time for you to notice my mistake.”

You hummed at him.

“Then I guess the only explanation why people seem to have failed to notice is because of my handsome face! They are too distracted by my beauty to notice my misplaced scar. Don’t you agree?” You elbowed him hard and left his yelping, laughing ass. What a weirdo. You giddily smiled though.

The rest of the night went by pretty fast. It was filled with dancing and laughing with people you know and don’t know. You even got to hang out a little bit with Team Rocket. You wouldn’t say you’d become friends with them but they aren’t all that bad.

The only missing thing though is that you didn’t share any more “personal” moments with Seokjin. He disappeared off with his group of friends after you left him. Not that you were fully expecting anything to happen, but you were slightly disappointed. Luna was quite chill about it at the start. She was probably wanting to discuss it in private. You know, for your own sake. But as she got tipsier and tipsier until she was full on drunk, she was practically squealing about it every few seconds. Hence, why you decided to socialise with other people which you would never do. Honestly, what is going on tonight and who are you even?

After the party, you remained to clean up. But Jimin told you that none of you would have to deal with the mess right now. He understands that everyone is completely knackered at this point. There were still a few people left but he ushered you to go home now. He assured you that he could deal with them and his hammered sister.

With that, you said thanks and hugged each other goodbye.

Walking out of their house, you thought back to earlier when you were thoroughly convinced to stay at home. You wonder how things would be if you had stayed. You would have totally missed out on so much! But you also wonder what would happen now. It seemed like Seokjin was unmistakably giving you the vibes that he likes you. You were too. So why did he suddenly vanish?

“You want me to walk you home?” A very familiar voice said from behind you. Ah, speak of the devil.

You faced him and smiled a little too big of a smile. “You live in the complete opposite direction. What are you talking about?”

He chuckled and made his way to you. “I was just thinking, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home all by yourself at 2 in the morning?”

He stopped a few feet in front of you. You find yourself a bit irritated with the distance between you two. You wanted to be a bit closer than that so you made the move to get nearer to him. “I think I can handle myself pretty well.” You said as you approached him until you were inches away from him.

“Oh, I’m sure you can.”

There was a brief moment of silence that fell between you. It wasn’t at all awkward or anything unpleasant. Actually, it was the complete opposite. You were just drinking everything in.

“Surprisingly, I had heaps of fun tonight. I never thought I would ever say that in the company of Kim Seokjin.” You said in a hush tone. You don’t know why you were speaking in such a way. The entire moment just seemed too delicate.

“I told you, you need to put a little faith in me, sugar queen.” He whispered. You smile at the term of endearment he had given you tonight due to your Katara outfit.

“I think I already have.” You said and his face started inching down towards yours.

Just the mere thought of finally getting to properly kiss him released thousands of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to rush him to finally feel his lips but at the same time, you wanted to drag this moment as long as you possibly can. If someone told you this morning that you would be having these thoughts as you were about to kiss Kim Seokjin tonight,you’d laugh at their face. You’d probably also tell them that you’d rather slam your tongue in a car door.

He took his time with you, also wanting to milk every second of this moment. There was no need to rush anything. He was literally ghosting his lips against yours. He was probably teasing you. It annoyed you so much. So much so that you made the executive decision to take full control of the situation. You made the move to press your lips against his but before you could, someone walked out of the house and started yelling towards you two.

“SEOKJIN HYUUUUUNG!” A guy dressed up as Snoopy literally yeeted himself between you two and placed an arm around him. What is everyone’s deal with interrupting you two? At this point, it’s like the universe is telling you a sign or something. Wait, what?

You frown at the thought you just had. It’s a stupid thought. But then why are you having this sinking feeling inside you?

“Hoseok, for the last time, I’m walking home. I live just two blocks away. I don’t have a car to drive you home.” He told the guy, obviously exasperated just like you.

Hoseok started whining and arguing at the older guy. It’s clear that he was dead drunk. You wouldn’t try to argue with him right now. Seems pointless since everything will fly over his head.

“But why walk when you can drive???”

“Hoseok-ah! You’re really gonna ask Seokjin hyung to get you home when I’m here?” Another guy came out of the house. You turned to the voice and saw Yoongi approaching, dressed up as Garfield. You’re friends with him because he seemed to be the closest to Seokjin so you see him more often than not.

Hoseok immediately let go of Seokjin and went to hold on to Yoongi. Yoongi seemed to be in a rush to get home. Can’t blame him. It’s really late and it’s been a long night. So he said goodbye right away. But before they could leave, he turned to you.

“Before I forget, by the way, Taehyung wanted me to tell you to call him. He said you haven’t been replying to him all night. I think he wants to take you out later.” He made a fast but pointed stare towards Seokjin when he said the last part. It seemed like his way of telling him to do something about it. You didn’t notice though.

“Oh, okay. Thanks Yoongi. Good night and drive safely!”

With that, the two went off.

Another silence fell between you two. This time though, it wasn’t as comfortable. You didn’t know whether to continue off from where you got interrupted and how to continue. The both of you looked like you were in deep thought.

Taehyung. You completely forgot about him. Now, you feel really bad and shameful.

You notice Seokjin pulling something from his trousers that appeared to be two small envelopes. That’s probably your prize.

He held them both and looked at them for a few seconds. “I want to ask you something.” He started, not looking you in the eyes. He’s nervous. Is he going to ask you on a date? Well, that just made you nervous.

“Yeah?”

He didn’t say anything for a while. You watch him clearly having some sort of argument with himself. It felt like an eternity when he finally looked you directly in your eyes.

“Y/n, I want to-” Once again, he got cut off. Maybe the universe really is saying something here.

Your phone started ringing. It was Taehyung, calling you.

“I...You should answer that.” He instructed you. You should. But you didn’t make the move to. Your eyes switched back and forth from your phone to Seokjin a couple times. You were completely torn and didn’t know what to do.

You were just going to answer his call. What’s the big deal about that? It’s not like he knew everything that happened and was supposed to happen between you and Seokjin. It’s not like he was going to chastise you for all of that.

Before you pressed the answer button, the call dropped and you became tense.

Seokjin sensed your inner turmoil. He didn’t like seeing you like this. But he thought that this was becoming too much to handle right now. He looks at the envelopes he is holding. Sighing, he can’t believe he is about to do this.

He reached out both envelopes towards you. “Here, take them both.”

“What? Why?”

“Take Taehyung with you.” You could not believe what you were hearing right now. To say you were dumbfounded is an understatement.

Seeing as you made no move to get them, he took your free hand and placed the envelopes in your grasp.

“Listen, it’s bad enough that Taehyung didn’t get to enjoy the night. I think it’s only fair if he went with you.”

“But you worked hard for this too. It was a team effort between us.” You told him, still not understanding why he would give up the prize just like that when he was so adamant to win them the entire night.

“I know. But it’s fine, really. Don’t worry, I could always find a way to get free food from Jimin. Besides, you deserve to spend some time with your Aang.”

You still didn’t fully understand the situation at hand. But it appears that he is not going to let you go until you accept the prize from him.

You finally conceded and pocketed the envelopes.

“It’s getting late. We should really go home. It’s been one hell of a tiring night.” You nodded at his statement.

“Thanks for being an amazing partner tonight, Y/n. I genuinely enjoyed every single moment of it.”

“Me too, Seokjin. Me too.”

You wanted to hug him. But he didn’t make any other move. He was clearly just waiting for you to leave. You thought, maybe this isn’t the right time with him. With all the interruptions and should haves tonight, it’s most likely for the best to leave things here.

With a heavy heart, you gave him one final look and said goodbye. With an equally heavy heart, he watched you leave and disappear down the street.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Jimin’s sudden appearance from the front door made Seokjin jump.

“Yah! Couldn’t you have been a bit more careful?” He asked the younger boy while placing a hand over his chest to calm himself down.

Jimin paid no attention whatsoever to his agony. “You deserve to spend some time with your Aang.” He mocked Seokjin. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I don’t want to- hang on. You were listening to our conversation???” Seokjin felt violated. Does this boy not know the meaning of privacy? First he kept interrupting you two all night then now he eavesdrops on your conversation and has the audacity to mock Seokjin.

Jimin did not feel nor look like he regretted what he had done. If anything, he looks really mad at Seokjin. “That’s besides the point. The point is, why are you just letting her go? You already had her!”

“No, I don’t think I ever had her to begin with. I mean, come on! She went dressed up as Katara and I’m dressed as Zuko. I think it was never meant to be.”

Feeling utterly frustrated, Jimin rubbed his face harshly. He had half the mind to take off his boots and impale his older best friend with them.

“That’s just bullshit! You’re too superstitious. You don’t listen to these signs! You take matters to your own hands.”

Seokjin knew that Jimin wouldn’t understand his point of view. He’s the type of person to chase anything and everything if he so pleases it. Which fair play to him, isn’t a bad thing. But that’s not how Seokjin rolls.

“Listen, you won’t understand me.” Seokjin started and Jimin openly agreed with him. “All I’m saying is if it’s not your time, then it’s not your time. You need to accept that and patiently wait. I did what I had to do tonight.”

Jimin did not respond to him. Truthfully, he does get what Seokjin is trying to explain. He does not agree with it at all though and still thinks it’s bullshit. But he can’t really do anything other than to support his stupid best friends and to let them learn things on their own. When that happens, he’ll for sure throw another party.

“Wow. Just wow. That’s rough, buddy.” Is all he can reply to Seokjin.

Indeed it was.

#bangtan #bts #bts scenarios #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts humor #kim seokjin #bts au #bts one shot #seokjin oneshot #seokjin fanfic #jin oneshot #jin fanfic

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Breathing

a/n: back by popular demand, i will forewarn you. this might make you cry, either from feelings or disappointment. you’ll know in the end

oikawa tooru x reader

(technically part 2 of that oikawa angst but more like part 1.5)

There was one memory.

A memory from the past shared between two children who were filled with nothing but purity and innocence from the misgivings of the world.

A simple blurb from the past.

But it was then that the childish promise was made that was never met.

And it hurt.

...

She was only 10 when it happened.

He already turned 11, but just a few weeks ago.

They sat together in her room as they looked through the picture book of her parents and their past. Of course, she cringed at every picture because these were the same people who had no shame in showing their love through kisses at the front door for the whole world to see. Yet, she also valued the love that was clear-even in the pictures-because they were the evidence for her hope of love.

Tooru giggled as he pointed at the picture of the baby version of her being carried in the arms of her mother while her father stood behind the two, proudly smiling a grin so big that it made his eyes crinkle.

“You were such a flabby baby, y/n-chan!” You looked up from another picture and glared at him before kicking him with your foot.

“So mean, Tooru!”

He looked offended and gently took the picture off of the plastic slot to prove his point of the wrinkly little bean.

“Look! You had wrinkles right here and you weren’t even a day old yet!” He laughed and you couldn’t help but snatch it from his grasp, thinking that his words were true and that you were indeed a fat baby.

You held up the picture to the light to see the wrinkles more clearly but you saw faint lines on the picture.

There was something written in the back.

You turned it over and Tooru saw you flip the photograph so he scooted over next to you to see what exactly was written.

‘Breathing the same air, in the same space, was enough reason to fall in love.’

You tilted your head in confusion and had to re-read through the sentence again to try and understand what it exactly meant. But you were still confused.

Tooru had the same problem and even took the picture so he could clearly see what was being written and not just a misunderstanding of the different characters placed together.

“Fall in love?” you questioned out loud, furrowing your eyebrows together.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never been in love before.”

“Mommy tells me that she fell in love with Papa because he cooked good tonkatsu. Is that what they meant?”

“Baka,” he playfully nudged. “I think it means your father or mother fell in love with you the moment you took your first breath.”

You looked at Tooru with an impressed look in your eyes. “Oooo, look at you, Tooru-kun! Since when did you get so smart?!”

He gave you an unamused smile before hitting your legs, which were laid across his lap. “I’m literate. And I have brain cells. Don’t think you can relate.”

You pouted then crossed your arms. “What about you, Tooru-kun? Did you fall in love with me when we met?”

He paused, thinking about it. “Hm, I don’t know. I don’t remember our first meeting since we were just babies so I can’t answer your question.”

“What about now?” You quietly asked. “We’re breathing the same air in the same space of my room. It mentioned that this would be the perfect situation and enough reason to fall in love. So, what about now, Tooru-kun? Did you fall in love with me now?”

At first, he was quiet. He didn’t exactly know what to say because he’s never felt the feeling of falling in love. Heck, he doesn’t even know what falling in love is!

But watching your figure beside him, the sun behind you creating some sort of angel-like glow emitting from you, and the strands of your silky hair that fell out from your previous nap. It was enough to make his heart race, he knew that.

So, was it enough to make him fall in love?

Instead, he answered you with a question.

“Do you want me to fall in love with you?”

You merely shrugged, seemingly oblivious to his rapidly blushing face and the weight of those words as you continued to look at the photograph.

“I mean, it sounds scary to fall in love, you know? If it has ‘fall’ in it, it would hurt, right? I’ve fallen before but I was never able to get up without someone to help me so I don’t want to just fall in love with anyone. Mommy already fell in love with Papa so he won’t be there to catch me or to help me up. And you’re the only other person I trust to help me so…. Yes, I want you to fall in love with me so I can also fall in love with you. That way, we can trust to help each other. So fall in love with me forever, okay? I’ll do the same for you. I promise.”

It sounded good enough to the young, innocent Tooru so he agreed, promising that he will fall in love with you and just you.

Unfortunately, not only was he not able to help you up or catch you at the bottom, but he was the person who pushed you in the first place.

....

Sugawara placed a hand on your shoulder for support after he felt the intense air between you and this chocolate-haired boy. There were no words exchanged but the both of you looked each other up and down, your eyes lingering quickly on that brace on his knee. The restraint to keep the scoff in was almost unbearable but you didn’t care anymore. You wordlessly followed Sugawara back to the team and refused to look back because you were afraid of seeing that look in his eyes.

They were sad, lonely.

Kageyama rushed to help you and Sugawara with the basket of water bottles before running off to scold Hinata for taking forever in the bathroom, probably puking his guts out. You inspected the gym and quickly found old teammates, who were your past friends. These mentioned friends, Iwaizumi, Kunimi, and Kindaichi, were shocked to see you standing at their home turf and even having to do anything with volleyball.

“y/n-senpai!” Kindaichi yelled and you smiled from the sidelines before walking across to meet his run to give you a hug. He was the same tall, first year with his hugs that squeezed you tightly. You were released but you turned to Kunimi, who bashfully smiled before walking over to give you an equally tight hug.

“It’s so good to see my boys,” you hummed while ruffling their hair with great difficulty. God, they were about your height when you first met but now, they towered over your form.

“Why didn’t you ever visit us, senpai?” Kindaichi whined but you gripped his ear.

“You’re glad I didn’t visit since I heard you both planned a revolt against Tobio last year.” They guiltily looked down as if they were being scolded but you knew how Tobio was acting. He told you himself, expressing the regret with the way he treated them, and you were disappointed, sure, but both boys were in fault for this.

“We had to do something, senpai,” Kunimi quietly reasoned.

“I know you did. We can talk about that later. But you’re playing right now and you’re in different teams so do your best in this match!” You raised an encouraging fist and they both grinned.

“I’ll win this for you, senpai!” Kindaichi, the ever energetic boy, swore and ran to Iwaizumi, who ruffled his hair.

“You too, Kunimi-kun. Do your best, okay? No slacking off,” you scolded lightly with a smile. He playfully rolled his eyes.

“Okay, mom.”

When you went back to the Karasuno side, they questioned you as to how you knew them but once you explained your past in their old middle school with Tobio, they settled down, only telling you that they weren’t worried because you were their manager now.

By now, you’ve taken responsibility for the water bottles of the boys so you’ve gone back to the same place to refill them with cold water. Only to get lost.

“I swear it was right here. What the hell?” you mumbled repeatedly, getting increasingly uncomfortable with the heavy container.

As you ventured down a hallway, you were so sure you got yourself more lost but you didn’t care because you just wanted to get water. There was a serious lack of water fountains in this school making you wonder how these children were being hydrated.

You hummed a song to make yourself feel at least a bit better from being lost but as you turned a corner, you froze.

There he was, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall with his eyes tightly shut. One would think he was sleeping but you knew he was far from it.

Tooru liked to close his eyes so he wouldn’t have any distractions as he concentrates on the techniques and moves he’d use against a team. This time it was no different so you thought you could easily walk past him without even making your presence known.

But this was Oikawa Tooru.

He was one of the sharpest and most attentive people you knew but when he opened his eyes to peak at your form in front of him, you stopped, eyes wide as if you were just caught doing something bad.

“Hi,” he whispered. You gulped before nodding his way and turning to continue walking.

“I miss your voice, y/n.” His voice was hoarse, hurt and pained, causing you to instinctively stop.

You shut your eyes in annoyance because after all these years, he still managed to control your instincts more than you yourself.

“I know…. God, I know I must not be fair right now since it was my fault for yelling at you and hurting you. But please, just say something to me, anything. Because I don’t want the last time I heard your voice to be your goodbye.”

You remained turned away so you couldn’t see the tears that were welling up in his eyes but you thought that this could be the last thing you could do for him.

“Breathing the same air, in the same space, is not enough reason to fall in love.”

Then you walked away.

He sniffled, crying for both his knee and his lost love.

His wish was never granted.

The last time he hears your voice is your final goodbye.

a/n: yall dont kill me. i just had to do it this way and i know yall are probably screaming and punching the air right now but pls dont be too angry! to make up for this, i have a surprise for yall since youve actually given me so much support and love in such little time. So at 3 PM SHARP (Eastern Time Zone) so watch out for the time and check my account to find your gift!!!

a/n2: also, credits to someone in pinterest for the quote and i thought it was one of the deepest and cutest quotes of love <3

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 years

Text

Breaking Stereotypes–Matt Brody

I became a lifeguard to pay my dues. Along with a paycheck, I got judgmental looks, laughing, and inappropriate jokes. You see, I don't look like most of the lifeguards that work on this beach. I'm not skinny, I'm not tall, I'm not beautiful. And the people—mainly the men and the girls my age—are ruthless about it.

Every day, I go home from work and cry myself to sleep with the echoes of their insults bouncing around my head all night. Today was no different.

"Look," a guy chuckled. "A lifeguard that works as her own floatation device."

"She's so revolting, you don't want to drown because you don't want her giving you mouth-to-mouth," another guy chuckled.

"Gross," someone else laughed. "Could you imagine? Her lips touching yours?"

My eyes filled with tears as he gagged dramatically. I turned to run away but ran straight into Matt. He grabbed my shoulders and glanced behind at the laughing group of boys.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently as he rubbed his hands up and down my arms.

"I'm fine," I whispered, not looking up at him.

"Y/N, are they. . ." he started to ask but was cut off.

"That would be the worse kiss of life," a guy laughed obnoxiously. "It's probably the only way a guy will ever kiss her; he's dying and she's the only one around to save his life."

Matt looked over at the guys and glared. He softened his look before glancing back at me.

"How long have they been saying these things to you?" He asked under his breath.

I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to tell him the truth. The longer it took for me to respond, the more he figured it out for himself. He went back to glaring at the guys as they continued to make suggestive and crude movements towards me.

"Drown or be kissed by that?" We heard a guy laugh. "I think I'd rather die."

"Hey!"

Before I could stop him, Matt angrily walked over to the group of guys. "Say that again," he challenged through his teeth. "I dare you to say something like that about her again."

The guys laughed as they sent each other mocking looks. "Really?" The main guy laughed. "You're sticking up for her?"

"Of course," Matt said with clenched fists.

"Why?" Another guy laughed. "Because she's a lifeguard or because she's so pathetic she needs someone else to stand up for her?"

"I'm only going to say this one more time," Matt said through his teeth. "Knock it off."

"Aww," the main guy teased. "How sweet? The lifeguard is protecting the Beach Whale."

"The only reason he would be standing up for that is because he's screwing her."

"Yeah, right!" A guy scoffed. "She'd crush him."

I stifled a sob as I ran to the lifeguard shack. As I ran away, I heard Matt yell something and the group of boys try to defend themselves. I hid behind the shack, struggling to catch my breath from running and crying. I covered my mouth and sat down against the shack when I heard Matt and Mitch talking.

"Whoa, calm down," I heard Mitch say. "What happened? Y/N just ran by crying and you look like you're about to kill someone."

"Some assholes have been coming by every day and saying rude things to Y/N," Matt explained, still sounding angry. "They've been making fun of her, insulting her, and making crude comments about her. . . They've been making jokes about her weight, Mitch."

"Shit," Mitch said under his breath. "Where are they?"

"I told them to get lost, but they haven't."

"Okay," Mitch sighed. "I'll handle them."

"Did you see where Y/N ran off to?" Matt asked after a few seconds of hesitation. I didn't hear what Mitch said, but I had a feeling he knew exactly where I was hiding.

"Hey. There you are."

I looked up to see Matt coming around the corner. I quickly stood up, brushing the sand off of my sweaty legs.

"Please," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat. "Just. . . Just leave me alone."

Before I could leave, Matt grabbed my hand to keep me from heading inside the lifeguard shack.

"Y/N, stop."

"No," I said forcefully as I pulled my hand out of his grasp. "Don't pretend that you know what this feels like, Matt. To have people constantly judging you, laughing at you, staring at you. You don't know what it feels like to have them point out every inch of your insecurities. You don't understand. . ."

A sob got stuck in my throat as I looked down at his perfect body. I looked back up at him with tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I don't look like you or Summer or CJ or Holden. You guys can walk around the beach in swimsuits comfortably and confidently. You guys don't have to worry about people making fun of you or being repulsed by the sight of you. They're beautiful and I'm. . ."

"You are," Matt said quickly when I tried to walk away again. I scoffed as I turned back towards him and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Matt," I sighed. "Look around. The world loves people who look like you and they thrive on bullying people who look like me. I'm not . . . I'm not super overweight, but I am overweight enough that it's noticeable. Sure, maybe if I was working in a job that I wore normal clothes, I wouldn't stand out as much. But I'm not. I'm a lifeguard at one of the most populated beaches in California."

I stared at him for another minute before turning on my heel and walking around the corner.

"Y/N!" Matt called out to me. I gasped when he grabbed my hand, spinning me back around. "Forget them," he rushed out. "They are just assholes who don't know you. And if they did? They wouldn't even notice your weight. I don't. I never have."

I couldn't help but scoff. "What?" He asked, the look in his eyes dropping.

"Everyone notices my weight," I sighed. "Summer, CJ, Holden. Even Ronnie said something about him being happy he wasn't the only non-stick person here anymore."

"Y/N," he sighed.

"Don't," I whispered. I took a deep breath before saying, "Just forget it, okay?" I shook my head and walked inside the lifeguard shack.

Summer ran up to me the second I walked in. "Hey, Y/N. You okay? Mitch told us what those guys said to you."

"I'm fine," I shrugged. Summer sent CJ a knowing look as I walked past them and headed into Mitch's office.

"Hey, kiddo. Everything okay?" He asked as I walked in. He saw the look on my face and his smile fell. "About what those guys said," he sighed.

I crossed my arms over my body and stared at my feet as he continued. "Y/N, honey. You shouldn't let them get to you. They were drunk and. . ."

"I can't do this anymore," I cut him off.

"Wait, Y/N. . ." He tried to stop me. I looked up at him with tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I can't do this anymore, Mitch. The comments. The looks. It's too much. I don't fit in here and I can't keep pretending like I do. . . I'm sorry."

Mitch walked around his desk and wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay," he whispered. "I don't want to force you to stay somewhere you don't feel comfortable."

He pulled out of the hug, keeping his hands on my shoulders, as he said, "But I will be sorry to see you go. You're a great lifeguard and an overall great young woman. If you ever need anything, a reference, anything, you just give me a call."

"I'll remember that," I smiled. I looked over his shoulder to see Matt watching us with a weird look on his face.

* * * * *

Matt's POV

The day after Y/N quit, those guys were back. I was walking across the beach when they called out to me.

"Where's Lifeguard XXXL?" The main guy chuckled. I tried to control my anger but I quickly lost it when he added, "We were looking forward to a free comedy show featuring the Fat Lifeguard."

I turned on my heel and instantly punched him in the face.

"I warned you what would happen if you insulted her in front of me again," I spat at him.

His friends helped him up, mumbling about how I was crazy as they walked away. With a frustrated grunt, I turned on my heel and quickly walked back to the lifeguard shack.

"Whoa," Ronnie laughed when I walked in. "Who did you kill?"

"No one, yet," I said between my teeth. "But I did punch the guy who made Y/N quit yesterday."

* * * * *

It's been a week since Y/N quit. Back when she worked here, she was always laughing and making us laugh. Until she went out on her shift. Then she would come back, her head down as she grabbed her stuff and quickly left.

I walked in and immediately noticed Mitch staring at me. "What?" I asked.

"Thought you would want to know," he said, sending me a knowing look. "Y/N's stopping by to pick up her last paycheck."

"Really?" My interest peaked.

"Yep," he chuckled. "And if I were you, I'd tell her just how much you've missed her."

I spent the entire day, continually glancing at the door, waiting for Y/N to walk through. When she finally walked in, my breath got caught in my throat. She was wearing a sundress that made her look gorgeously tan. She almost looked like a completely different person.

Almost.

I followed her with my eyes as she walked straight for Mitch's office. I watched them as he hugged her and they talked for a little bit before he gave her her last paycheck and hugged her again. He walked her out of his office as Summer, CJ, and Holden walked into the shack.

"Y/N!" They cheered. I watched, a small smile on my face, as the girls ran over and gave her hugs.

"We miss you!"

"For real!"

"What are you up to?"

"I actually got a job at a realtor's office," Y/N smiled.

"Really?" The girls asked in sync.

"Yeah," Y/N smiled. "My aunt owns one and it wasn't too hard to get my realtor license. I've worked there a week and have already sold two houses and three beach houses."

"That's amazing!" Summer cheered.

"You go, girl!" CJ laughed.

As the girls laughed, Y/N finally looked up and noticed me watching her. Her smile slightly fell when we made eye contact. The girls must have noticed because they smirked and quickly gave her goodbye hugs before leaving the lifeguard shack.

"That's great about the realty job," I said awkwardly.

"Thanks," Y/N said as she blushed. She reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You look great," I said. She looked up at me, the blush brighter. "I mean. . . Not that you didn't look great before. You just look. . . You look happier."

"I am," she smiled, chuckling slightly. I nodded, an awkward silence falling between the two of us. We stared at each other, neither one of us saying anything.

"I guess I should. . . Get going," Y/N stuttered.

"I miss you," I blurted.

She looked up at me with wide eyes. I held my breath as I slowly took a few steps toward her, closing the gap between us. I hesitated before grabbing her hands and intertwining our fingers. I looked up from our hands to see Y/N watching me closely.

"I hate that you quit," I said, breaking the silence. "I especially hate that you thought you didn't fit in when the truth is, you are too good for this place, Y/N. Those guys didn't know what they were talking about. People who judge a person based on their appearance are the ones with the worst personalities. But not you. You, Y/N, were the only one who looked past my cocky attitude and my Olympic medals. You saw me as more than that. So why didn't you believe me when I told you that I didn't notice your weight when we first met?"

I waited but she opened and closed her mouth, unable to find the right words to answer me. I let go of her hands and reached up, gently cupping her face. She didn't pull away as I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers.

It took her a second before she started kissing me back. I slowly dropped my hands from her face and wrapped my arms around her waist. As our lips moved in sync, I felt her relax into my arms.

We finally broke apart, leaning our foreheads against each other as we caught our breath.

"I'm not going to beg you to come back," I whispered. "What I will ask is, can I take you to dinner tonight?"

She leaned back and smiled at me. For a brief second, her smile fell and I could see her hesitate.

"Y/N," I whispered. "Let me prove to you that I'm not like those guys. Let me show you that I like you for you. Nothing more. Nothing less. Please?"

Y/N bit her lip, slowly starting to smile. "Tonight is perfect."

"Great," I smiled widely. "Pick you up at 6?"

"6 works for me," she said softly. I smiled as I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, my hand lingering on her face.

"It's a date."

#matt brody #matt brody imagines #baywatch #plus size reader #plus size reader x matt brody #zac efron #zac efron imagines

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 4 years

Text

My Angel (M)

Part Two of the 13 Days of Seventeen Series

Summary:

As punishment for not being God’s perfect little angel Jeonghan is sent to Earth with a mission. To get a girl who has been single for too long a boyfriend. While meticulous, he figures it can’t be that difficult, his deadline is Christmas, surely, he can get a girl a boyfriend by Christmas.

Warnings: Porn with Plot but some of the plot is rushed, Dirty Talk, lots of cum talk, again sex without protection- please don’t forget to use protection guys

A/N: Bear with me on the plot, this was really trying to be a whole full-length novel and I had to hella rush the plot to get to the smut so that it wouldn’t be posted too late. I guess Jeonghan and I both struggle with deadlines. *badumtish*

Your Christmas plans were just as special as anyone would expect them to be.

You were donating to the local orphanages, signed up to assist at a soup kitchen. You were sending out Christmas cards to your family to assure them that you were doing okay, and in-between all of that you were simply making sure that spending the season alone wasn’t too completely draining.

So, when you got an unexpected knock at the door, you sort of expected carolers. The last thing you expected when you opened the door was a man. Dark eyes, and long white hair that matched a pressed white suit. You swallowed hard the moment that your eyes fell on him.

You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he seemed so ethereal.

“Um-”

Before you could get out another word, the man grunted.

“Great, you’re even more pathetic in person,” he stated. He brushed past you; your eyebrows furrowed at the combination of odd actions. You glanced over your shoulder, just to make sure he was in fact in your house- he was, and you shrugged and closed the door.

“Sure, yeah, just come in,” you mumbled. “I mean I don’t see why you wouldn’t be allowed in since we are such close friends.”

The man shot you a look at that, clearly not appreciating your sass.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” the man stated back. “My name is Jeonghan. I’m an angel- yes I know! Wow, angels are real that’s so cool- Yeah, I don’t feel like autographs right now. The facts are, I got in trouble and now I have to help you get a boyfriend before Christmas.”

You stared at this guy… Jeonghan did he say? With a bewildered look on your face. He couldn’t actually expect you to believe this? He just walked in and said he was an angel and that was supposed to be all you needed to just… What? Fall at his knees and worship the ground he walked on.

You put a hand on your hip.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded certainly, trailing around your living room without much care at all. He tapped his fingers uncertainly against your couch.

“Yes, yes, angels are real and whatnot. And yes, God believes you’re so important that he decided to grant your Christmas wish, and find you someone to love before the holiday is over.”

“But-”

“Do you have anything to drink?” Jeonghan interrupted. You stared at him blankly, which made him roll his eyes. “I swear, you humans get more difficult to work with every year.”

He snapped his fingers, and out of thin air- literally out of thin air a wine glass appeared in his hands.

“Back in the good old days, I appeared, and I get recognized on sight. There was no question whether or not angels were real- no. I just showed up and I was worshipped.”

He paused to sip the wine from his glass, ignoring the way that you were gawking at him from the hallway.

“Nowadays you humans really worship that of a fat man in a red suit breaking into a house through a chimney rather than a heavenly angel showing up at your doorstep. I ought to show you my true form and show you what it really means to be mystified.”

Still you couldn’t manage a word out of your mouth, but this Jeonghan really genuinely didn’t seem to mind.

“But that my dear would probably render you blind, and a blind human, is a much harder you human to find a male companion for wouldn’t you say?”

He hummed and tapped your couch with his free hand, and in an instant, it was replaced by a completely different sofa. One that looked like it could have cost thousands of dollars, and yet here it had just appeared in your house. The self-proclaimed angel plopped down onto the sofa, and dramatically splayed himself across it.

“You don’t even know how fortunate you are to have me as the angel finding you a man. I never stoop this low. I haven’t had to deal directly with a human in centuries. I’m one of the topmost honored angels in heaven. Thirteen of God’s most trusted.”

“Then why are you here?”

For a first thing to say to an angel who was clearly so full of himself he couldn’t think straight, you had to admit- you were impressed with yourself.

Jeonghan did not look so impressed. He looked downright miserable.

“Too much sass. I’m too self-absorbed. I’ve forgotten what it means to be an angel, blah blah blah.”

He scoffed.

“The only reason I’m here is because I’m too perfect,” he grumbled. “Everyone else is intimidated so I’m stuck down here doing mop work.”

You were feeling a lot of emotions, and honestly, you weren’t sure whether or not you should be offended or honored that this angel was here to supposedly get you a boyfriend before Christmas. It was a little bit insulting that it was a punishment.

And while you really wanted to get to the bottom of this whole situation, and figure out exactly what was going on, and if this guy was telling the truth or just neurotic, or maybe if you were just hallucinating, you also really had to get to work.

So instead of talking to him and wasting time with someone who seemed to be an entire psycho, you turned away from him, slipped your shoes on, grabbed your keys and headed out the door.

Before the door was even open, you heard the so-called angel scramble to his feet.

“Where are you going?” He demanded.

You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Work?”

“You can’t go to work!” Jeonghan blurted indignantly. You shifted your weight and glanced at the time on your phone. You really didn’t have much time for this.

“Why not?” You asked him. He sighed.

“I only have until Christmas to get you a boyfriend,” he mumbled. “And look at you! You’re a mess. No wonder you require divine intervention if you are going out in khakis.”

“It’s a work uniform and I’m not getting fired from the job I love just because you want to get me a boyfriend,” you exclaimed. He sighed.

“God wants you to get a boyfriend,” he insisted pointedly. You rolled your eyes and continued to exit through your front door. Sure, maybe leaving a psychotic stranger in your house wasn’t the best idea but you didn’t want to be late, so you were willing to risk a minor robbery.

You closed and locked your door behind you, already feeling calmer to have the man out of your sight.

“It’s quite rude to shut the door on someone. A human, rude enough, an angel and I honestly don’t even know what to say.”

You jumped turning around in horror to find the man standing in front of you. Same outfit, same fiery gaze, same wine glass in hand. You couldn’t believe it.

“B-but-”

“I told you, I’m an angel. I can be wherever the hell I want to be, doors be damned.”’

You stared at him, mouth gaping a bit. You shouldn’t be surprised by the news- you really shouldn’t. But you couldn’t help but think about all that this meant for you.

Sure, all the signs pointed to it, but could Jeonghan really be an angel?

“And I told you,” you mumbled, forcing your mouth to close, and your shoulders to square themselves intimidatingly. “I have to get to work.”

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Jeonghan insisted. You brushed past the pompous angel, a scowl on your lips.

“You absolutely are not,” you snapped back.

“I am not spending a second on this planet longer than I have to.”

He kept pace with you with no problem, seeming to fit along pretty well on the small city streets with you. Your job was about a ten-minute walk from your house, and it took you right through the busiest parts of town.

Your town itself was admittedly not very busy. It was small and cozy, but a big tourist spot. There were always all kinds of people crowding the sidewalks, especially during the Christmas season.

“Honestly, all you humans are so… Revolting,” he continued to complain, not caring about the way that everyone in the general radius turned to look at him for his words. “You are all smelly, and selfish-”

You did your best to ignore him. You waved high to the children you two passed by and you smiled widely when you spotted a handful of your friends leading a small group of tourists through the park. The smiled back and waved back at you. Sending you short questioning looks when they noticed the complaining Jeonghan by your side.

You just shrugged.

Even if you could explain it in a single gesture, you weren’t really sure what you would be explaining.

You were really just hoping that the more this day progressed the less real this Jeonghan would become.

Yet, even as you slid on an apron and punched into the time clock, Jeonghan was there. He didn’t care when you said that he couldn’t come behind the counter. He was so frustrating.

“What about that guy?” He’d ask you, leaning over your shoulder. You’d roll your eyes.

“Married.”

“Him?”

“A girlfriend.”

“Okay, he’s not committed to anyone.”

“He’s gay!”

Jeonghan pouted at your every response as if you were the one only pointing out the non-dateable guys in town.

He was hoping to be there for only a day. He wanted to be able to point at someone and them to be the one. You supposed he knew nothing about romance.

He followed you everywhere. He tried to set you up with the homeless man that you gave breakfast to. He tried to set you up with your coworkers, and he tried to set you up with every tourist that tried to give you your phone number.

“You are impossible to set up with anyone,” Jeonghan complained. You glared at him from your couch. You had tried to set him up on your couch, but he had been offended by the simple prospect- lectured you on it for about an hour and then finally just made his own room appear for him in your living room.

He was annoyed you used it to read.

You were annoyed he was still there at all.

Two weeks in and he had gotten less insistent on making you go out with every man in a two-foot radius. He started insisting you guys go home after your shifts instead of going out to bars to teach you how to flirt. He started glaring at the guys you spoke to on shift.

And you suspected the significant less amount of numbers you were getting on shift had something to do with him.

You weren’t entirely sure where the sudden shift in his behavior had come from… But you had to admit you liked it better.

The soft smiles you two shared across the counter while you worked, the extra hand carrying goodie bags to the kids at the local school, the warm chest to lean on while you read by the fireplace.

You started to like having Jeonghan around.

And you even started to kind of dread the fact that Christmas was coming soon. Because either way, when the clock hit midnight on Christmas Day, Jeonghan would have to leave.

And once again, it would just be you.

“So, what exactly happens if you don’t complete your task like you are supposed to?” You asked Jeonghan thoughtfully. He quirked an eyebrow at you, clearly finding it curious that you would choose to bring this up now of all times. You shrugged, so he put a bookmark in the book you had suggested he indulge in and stretched out his limbs.

“I suppose I get another task,” he replied. “I certainly won’t be punished for it. It will just be a tad embarrassing.”

You stared at him; a small frown riddled over your lips as you looked at him. He seemed to find the look intriguing because he got to his feet and wandered towards you.

“But I may have discovered a new way to accomplish my mission after all.”

Jeonghan’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he tugged you close to him. The smirk that was spread over his lips was borderline terrifying, but for some reason, it just made you that much more excited. A shiver ran through your body.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You mumbled. “I thought your angelic mission or whatever was to find me the perfect guy.”

“Oh, I found one,” Jeonghan assured. He grew closer to you, his grip on your wrist feather-light. Honestly, it felt more like he was caressing you than anything else.

“And, where is he?” You asked. “It’s Christmas Eve you know. Not a lot of time left.”

Jeonghan laughed, and the sound went straight down to your core. You shivered, trying your best not to think too much about what Jeonghan could possibly be referring to. After all, he was an angel… No angel would…

“He’s closer than you would think,” Jeonghan replied. You weren’t sure when he had gotten so close to you, but if you moved your head just a little bit further you knew you would be able to brush the tip of your nose against his.

He reached up his hand, his thumb briefly passing over your lips. He parted your lips with his finger, quirking his eyebrow in amusement at the small whimper that escaped your lips at that touch.

“I can bring you heaven,” he mumbled. “And all I need is the okay.”

“You’ll make all my dreams come true?” You asked breathlessly. Jeonghan smiled and nodded.

“We can seal it with a kiss,” he assured softly. You looked up at him, his eyes dark with lust as he stared at you. You could tell he was holding a lot back. You knew that there was so much that he wanted to say to you, so much that he wanted to do to you.

You never would have wanted this before. And god when you met Jeonghan you had honestly kind of hated him. How could you like a guy, after all, who teased you nonstop for everything that you did?

Yet somehow, you had fallen for him. A man who sometimes you felt like didn’t care about you at all and other times, when he looked at you, you could tell that he saw the entire world in your eyes.

“I want this more then I have wanted anything in a long time,” you stated. Before Jeonghan could say anything else, you surged forward, your lips colliding with Jeonghan’s. For a moment, it was you in control. Your fingers desperately gripped at his clothes, pushing at the buttons of his shirt, doing whatever you could to get those clothes off his body.

It made him laugh a little, and you could tell that he was really enjoying how desperate you were just to get his clothes off of him. It wasn’t until you had gotten his shirt off and had finally unbuckled his belt that he took control.

His fingers dug into your shoulders, and he pressed you backwards until your back hit the wall behind you. His lips left yours, but as soon as they were off of you his eyes were glued to your heaving chest.

“Oh sweetheart, you just signed up for something bigger than you could have ever imagined,” he insisted. “My rules? Be loud, be clingy, and if you do something, I don’t like I can punish you for it.”

You scoffed, but you were a bit distracted by his eyes, to be all that concerned with his words.

“How do I know if you won’t like it?” You murmured back. For a moment Jeonghan stayed completely still, you honestly wondered if he had even heard you at all. But then he leaned forward, his lips pressing to your collarbone as he looked up at you through hooded eyes.

“Guess you’ll just have to guess. I know what you like and don’t like after all,” he mumbled. His hands moved to your blouse, and he took the hem, slowly pulling it over your head. Once it was off of you entirely, he pressed some small kisses across your chest, and as he did, he began to work your bra off with one hand.

“But that’s because you know like everything about me,” you mumbled between biting back whines. He chuckled and leaned back his eyes taking in the view of your bare chest with complete amazement.

“So, I do have some advantages. Maybe that just means I won’t punish you,” he stated. His hands cupped your breasts and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to one, and then the other. Then his lips latched onto your tit, sucking and nipping at you with his teeth while he simply fondled the other with his other hand.

You had never thought that your breasts were sensitive. The last few partners that you had been with had only focused on their pleasure and weren’t ever very concerned with touching you and finding out what made you moan the loudest.

“But then again, I also know that you like punishment.”

But Jeonghan just knew where to touch you to make you squirm. It made you a little bit uncomfortable to have someone understand your body that well- better than you knew it, and so you decided to do something about it. You pressed forward, moaning just a little under your breath.

“I want you,” you mumbled. Your fingers started to fumble with the button on Jeonghan’s pants. “Let me show you just how badly I want you.”

You got his pants off, and your fingers hooked in his boxers, pulling them down as fast as you could manage. He let you sink to your knees and wrap your fingers around his length, and it gave you your first good look at his cock.

He was thick and long, and veiny and it was absolutely gorgeous. You could barely contain how excited you were just to look at him, especially as you admired his beautiful mushroom tip. You couldn’t believe that you had his cock in your hand, that it was this hard for you, and that soon enough, you would have that inside of you.

Jeonghan’s fingers interrupted your awed daze, as they slowly ran themselves through your hair, tightening a bit so that he could get a good grip on you. He led your lips to the tip of his cock, a movement to which you obediently opened your mouth so that he could lead it into your mouth. He paused and hummed at you.

“You think I don’t know why you suddenly wanted to suck my dick?” He asked you. You latched your lips down around the tip of his dick and sucked it innocently.

“I do have a bit of an oral fixation,” you mumbled around his tip. He smiled in amusement and lead your head further down the length of his cock. It sent another thrill of excitement through you as you began to salivate around his girth. He chuckled at the reaction.

“You do,” he agreed softly. He released his fingers from your hair and put his hands behind his back. “Show me what you’ve got firecracker.”

You tightened your fingers around the base of his cock and began to work his cock in and out of your mouth, sliding as far down as you could go without choking before working your way back up his length to suck on the tip of his cock, teasing it to the point where it leaked precum. After a few minutes of that, you pulled off his cock to lick up its underside, liking the way that Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

You loved his reactions, and you wondered what his reaction would be if you…

You wrapped your lips around his the tip of his cock again and slid him down until you were at the base of his cock. You had to move your hands to his waist so that you could keep his cock down your throat as you choked around his length, and you were going to stay down on him for as long as possible because the sound of his airy moan filling the air the first time you choked on him was just the noise you had been hoping to hear from him.

But after only a short moment Jeonghan’s fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled you off of his length. You whined your disappointment, which made him lightly roll your eyes.

“Not going to let you choke on my dick before I get to bury myself in your pretty little pussy,” he murmured. “I can tell how aroused you are, and it’s time for someone to do something about it.”

Jeonghan released your hair and pulled you back up by your waist, pressing his lips hungrily to yours, moaning against you as he did so. The kiss made you wrap your arms around his neck, which made Jeonghan take your waist.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he mumbled against your lips. You immediately did as he told you and in a flurry of motion, he moved you rapidly.

Your back hit the floor, and you arched it when you felt him kiss your inner thigh. His fingers tightened their grip on your thighs, and as soon as he had a firm grip on you (and your pants and underwear discarded elsewhere on the floor) he pressed your thighs further open.

“Oh, baby you are positively soaked,” he groaned, his voice dripping with excitement. “And if I couldn’t see your excitement, I sure as hell can smell it.”

Your face burned in embarrassment, but before you could protest his rather rash words, he continued to speak.

“Oh, but don’t worry, it just makes you all the more alluring. For a human, I must admit that it’s been hard to resist you,” he mumbled. “I’ve wanted to touch you from day one.”

His fingers pressed against the lips of your pussy lightly, and he slowly spread your soaked lips.

“Do you always get this wet for men? Or am I just special?” He teased.

“You’re not even really a man, you’re an angel,” you replied back.

“And this angel loves how much control he has over your body. You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. “Stop holding back, darling.”

Without warning he slipped a finger into your tight pussy, making you gasp in surprise. His fingers looked bony and skinny, but that wasn’t the way that they felt when they were deep inside of you. Your teeth gnawed at your bottom lip, as you tried to hold back a moan.

Jeonghan didn’t seem to mind too much. His tongue darted out of his mouth and flicked at your clit. This seemed to just make him want to taste you all the more because he pulled his finger from your wet core and instead buried his face into you. His nose bumped against your clit and holding back a loud moan was just that much more difficult when Jeonghan was moaning against your core.

You tried to buck your hips up against Jeonghan- his tongue was so busy lapping up your juices, that you were left wishing you had more of him inside of you.

The man, of course, didn’t let you buck your hips at all against him, but he did roughly push two fingers into your center and begin to pummel them in and out of you. He scissored his fingers with each thrust, stretching you out for his cock.

“You’re so goddamn, tight sweetheart. I’m half-convinced that you're going to milk the cum out of me at my first thrust if I don’t manage to spread you out for me.”

He added a third finger into the mix.

“But I feel your orgasm coming up love, I could just make you cum on my fingers and lap up your release. Then bring myself to my own orgasm down your pretty little throat,” he teased.

Your thighs squeezed around Jeonghan’s head and it made him chuckle.

“You like that don’t you? Cum?” He teased. “I could feel the way you were sucking up my precum… Don’t tell me that you’re a desperate little cum slut.”

Your back arched again, and you couldn’t hold back the wrecked moan that left your lips at his words.

You bit down on one of your fingers to muffle yourself a bit.

“Please Jeonghan, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me so bad,” you begged. “Please don’t make me beg for it- please just-”

Before you could continue, Jeonghan’s mouth had left you entirely. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up off the floor.

“Anything that my pretty little princess demands,” he murmured. He pressed you back against the fluffy cushions and lined his cock up with your entrance. But instead of thrusting into you, he simply splayed his hand over your stomach, and gazed down at you. “I’ve been imagining this since I first walked in your front door.”

You rolled your eyes at that.

“Please, but you said-”

“Even angels lie,” Jeonghan replied his voice dropping an octave. “But I’m not lying right now. You’re gorgeous, the purest being I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Your face reddened at the compliment.

“Now, if I have to tell you one more time to be vocal while I’m fucking you- I really will punish you.”

He thrust his cock into you in one fluid motion, and that action in itself was enough to make you feel like maybe you were hallucinating. You reached up blindly, your fingers wrapping around Jeonghan’s biceps nervously.

“Oh Jeonghan.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jeonghan murmured back. “I want you screaming my name so that this whole neighborhood can hear.”

He slowly pulled his cock out of you, so far that it almost fell out of you, but just before the tip of his cock fell entirely from you, he pushed back in. Hard and fast.

It made you gasp out a moan, and your fingers squeezed his biceps harder.

“Do you feel that?” He asked you. “Every inch of my cock sliding out of you?”

You whined your response, which made Jeonghan latch his lips to your neck. His teeth nipped at your throat teasingly.

“I want you to be able to feel the entirety of me. Become familiar with it since you are going to be feeling quite a bit of it in the near future.”

He repeated that slowly- a long pull out, and then once again thrust into you fast, but this time between the slow and fast thrusts, his fingers fell to your sides. It was an odd contrast from the pressure that you were used to feeling and quite frankly, it simply wasn’t enough.

“Jeonghan, please,” you managed to say between your pants. “Faster, harder, please.”

“You’re quite a needy little human, aren’t you?” Jeonghan teased affectionately. You were about to tell him off for that but before you could he snapped his hips into you- just the way you had asked. Hard, and fast, and additionally deep. Your fingers curled in pleasure as he picked up the pace.

“Sex with humans, has always seemed so boring to me,” Jeonghan started to say. “You humans are all so obsessed with your own pleasure, and once it is achieved you are practically done with one another until the next chance at achieving that pleasure. But you… You seek other’s pleasure. Never seeking out your own until everyone around you is pleased.”

He snorted when he hit your sweet spot, causing you to yelp out in surprise.

“I never thought I’d see the day, but I want nothing more than to turn you into a selfish lover just like all the rest. I want you to crave your own release. Be desperate for it and for anyone who can bring you to it.”

He grinned as he began to pound you, each thrust was perfectly timed so that you bounced on his cock. He pressed down on your pelvis so that he could drive his cock deeper into you with every thrust, and it made you moan.

Each time you clenched around his cock, you drove him closer to the edge, and every once in a while, you could feel his cock twitch in you. It drove you crazy to be so helpless to him, and it drove him crazy the closer and closer you got.

“You’re so pretty with my cock shoved in you,” he mumbled, his voice catching a little in his throat. “You look so full and content. Maybe one day I should just sit you on my cock and see how long you can go being a good girl. I bet you’d last a really long time. You seem like a good girl.”

“I am,” you agreed with a nod. “I’d be such a good girl for you Jeonghan.”

He smiled at you.

“Dirty words coming from such a pretty mouth,” he stated. He leaned down and took your lips between his teeth. “They could be dirtier; I’m going to corrupt your pure little mind.”

He reached down and began to fumble with your clit with his thumb, rubbing it faster when it made you moan louder.

“My God, you really are everything.”

He was starting to get increasingly more desperate; his thrusts were becoming less precise and deliberate. It was amusing to know that even a man… An angel you supposed, as composed as Jeonghan could completely lose himself as well. And even more flattering to know that it was because of you that he was losing himself so much.

“Jeonghan, I want to feel you spill your seed inside of me,” you moaned out. “I want you to fill me up with you, mark my insides as if I were yours.”

There was a gruff grunt at that.

“Sweetheart, one drop of cum inside your pussy from me and you would have 100 little Nephilim’s flying around here,” he grunted. “But don’t worry. I’ll still make this worth your while.”

Tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes. You could feel the pressure of all that pleasure building up in your stomach like an unbreakable knot. It made you desperate for your release, which only made you want Jeonghan to cum in you even more.

“Please, oh Jeonghan, please. I want nothing more than for you to come inside of me,” you whined. The words seemed to shock Jeonghan. He let out a strangled moan and as he did so another noise sounded out. One that you quite honestly didn’t recognize. It made you open your eyes, and to your surprise, when you looked up at Jeonghan, you didn’t just see him. You saw a widespread set of fluffy white wings hovering above you.

Jeonghan didn’t seem to have noticed that he had lost control in himself to the point that his wings were now spread out before you, and you knew that you shouldn’t touch an angel's wings without permission, but you really couldn’t help yourself.

You were so close to coming, and you could tell that Jeonghan was too, and his wings were so big and fluffy and so totally alluring that you couldn’t resist. You reached forward and buried your fingers in his wings.

The minute you made contact, Jeonghan’s moans rose a pitch. His eyes shot open, and he fixed you with a scary look.

“Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch an angel's wings without permission?” he grunted. He leaned down and his teeth latched down on your shoulder. Rougher than you were used to, but not as rough as he could be- you knew that for sure.

Your fingers withdrew slightly from his wings, but when you did, a whine of disappointment escaped from Jeonghan’s lips.

“Then do I have-” Before you could even finish asking, the tips of Jeonghan’s wings brushed the sides of your body.

“Touch them,” he barked out. You didn’t have to be told twice. You became fascinated as your fingers buried themselves deep into his feathers. You weren’t all that gentle either. Your fingers ran through them, fascinated with the way that it made Jeonghan’s hips stutter. He wasn’t nearly as put together when you were touching him somewhere sensitive, and apparently, he was extremely sensitive when you touched his wings.

You found one spot that had him panting loudly. A magic spot, that had his cock twitching inside of your body. He was close. You could feel it.

“Jeonghan, please,” you begged lightly. He whined and his thrusts became even more erratic.

“What? You still want me to cum in you?” He asked. “You think you deserve that when you’ve been such a brat? After you grabbed my wings without permission. When you haven’t listened to me the way you should?”

His fingers reached down and pressed down on your clit hard. You cried out, your eyes shutting tightly and your fingers burying deeper into his wings. That made him thrust into you harder, faster.

“Your pussy is just begging for me to release myself into you. Your whole body is just as slutty as your mouth,” Jeonghan teased. “You really want my seed that badly? So much so you really aren’t even afraid to beg?”

You nodded desperately, pulling yourself closer to Jeonghan.

“Please, I need you to cum Jeonghan,” you begged. Jeonghan scoffed at your words, but his breath hitched in his throat. He was holding back at this point you could tell.

“I’m going to countdown from five. Once I get there, you are going to cum,” he insisted. “Or… You get nothing.”

“But-”

“5.”

At this point, you were so entirely desperate to cum you didn’t even care. You felt the pressure building up in your body. Now you wouldn’t even be that surprised if you found out you had been holding back.

“4.”

He didn’t have to get any closer, from his fingers to his cock plummeting in and out of you, to the sounds that left his lips as your fingers tugged on his feathers- it all had you coming unraveled in seconds. His name fell from your lips in a desperate cry as immeasurable pleasure ran through you. Your eyes rolled back, and your back arched your body up against Jeonghan. His wings wrapped around you, his soft feathers brushing your back even as he felt your walls convulsing around his cock.

Before you had even ridden all the way through your orgasm, he slipped from your body. You whined in disappointment, but before you could utter a word you felt his warm cum splattering against your body and you were too tired to say anything at all.

You collapsed in a heap on the floor, your body heaving as Jeonghan’s touch left you entirely.

It was cold without him there, and for a long scary moment, you thought he had left you. You thought maybe he was just like any human man and had decided that you weren’t worth it. He had gotten what he wanted, and now he was gone.

But before you could spiral too far, you felt the warmth of a wet washcloth on your stomach. You were dabbed lightly with the cloth; his wet semen being cleaned off of your body with every dab. You whined at the touch, your body a bit sensitive for the warm soft cloth. Jeonghan was light with his touches, and it made your eyes flutter open.

“Why-”

“I was serious about the Nephilim’s,” Jeonghan replied pointedly. “No amount of your human birth control could keep you from getting pregnant from my semen.”

You pouted, weakly propping yourself up on your elbows so that you could look at him better.

“You called me a slut,” you grumbled, even though God knew you had loved it.

“And you grabbed my wings.”

He puffed them out expressively, which made you look at them again in surprise.

“Speaking of… Your wings… They’re…”

Jeonghan folded his wings behind his back, his eyes trailing away from yours.

“No human has ever seen them before,” he stated. You reached forward, splaying your fingers across his chest.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmured. His eyes sparkled as he stared at you, and before you had the chance to protest or say anything he leaned forward and pressed your lips together. You melted into the kiss, your fingers falling from his chest.

“I never imagined this was possible, or even saw this future coming for me,” Jeonghan started softly. “But… I’m in love with you. I’d fail any assignment, have every title stripped from my name, and I would even fall from grace if it meant just one more second with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession.

“You mean it?” You asked him uncertainly. He nodded, a smile gracing his lips.

“Every word.”

The smile on your face was so wide, you couldn’t cover it with your mouth.

“Then I’d say that your mission has officially been accomplished,” you mumbled gleefully. “You found one pathetic human, the person that she wants to spend the rest of her life with.”

You reached forward, cupping Jeonghan’s cheek.

“You.”

Jeonghan laughed.

“I’m not sure if the other angels will see it that way.”

“Jeonghan, it’s Christmas Eve, I have your cum on my stomach, and a minute ago, I was begging for you to put your Nephilium’s in me,” you stated pleasantly. “I’m willing to work this out with you. If your willing to risk it all for me, then I am willing to do the same. I love you too.”

Jeonghan raised a finger into the air, taking you by surprise. Before you could ask him what it meant he pointed at you thoughtfully.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured. You leaned forward, bumping your nose against his.

“Merry Christmas Jeonghan.”

#Let’s pretend this was posted on time #Thanks #It doesn’t help that I can’t get my keyboard back to English #My cat broke my computer smh #Anyways! Hope this is enjoyed #jeonghan #Seventeen Jeonghan #Seventeen #seventeen smut #Jeonghan smut #Kpop smut #seventeen fanfiction #13 Days of Seventeen

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adenei · 4 years

Text

Gryffindor Bonding Tales - The Follow Up

I couldn’t resist. Here’s what happens immediately after Hermione storms out of the truth or dare game! This WIP is closer to being Complete!

*************************************

Hermione made her way swiftly back to the Common Room. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed by kissing someone in front of her classmates. No, it was because she kissed her best friend who she’d been harboring feelings for, and had been too afraid to tell. It was just a dare, though. You don’t have to tell him anything unless you want to.

She’d taken the cowardly way out again, leaving the game before it was over, but she couldn’t bear to see his reaction. So she entered the common room and made her way halfway up the girls staircase before realizing that she’d left her books in the boy’s dorm because they were running late earlier.

********************

“Ginny! Ginny, wait up, will you!” Harry was calling down the corridor. It was hard to move quickly in clothes so tight without worrying he was going to tear something.

She finally paused long enough to turn around, “You should have stayed back!” she hissed at him.

“What? Why?” Harry was confused.

“I can’t explain it now, I need to go find Hermione!” Ginny said as she turned around and continued on her way.

“Okay, but can we at least change back first? No offense, but your clothes are kind of uncomfortable,” Harry said.

Ginny sent a smirk his way, “What? Don’t like women’s clothing?”

“Not on me, I don’t,” he muttered as she laughed.

They turned the corner to climb the last staircase to the common room, when they saw Professor McGonagall walking down the staircase towards them. “What on earth…?” she looked bewildered as she saw Harry and Ginny clearly wearing each other’s clothes.

Harry was trying to look anywhere but McGonagall, while Ginny embraced the scene. “Hi, Professor! Just an innocent dare for some Gryffindor fun!” They kept going before she could stop them and possibly take any points away for...indecency? Harry wasn’t really sure.

The Fat Lady gave them an amused look as they gave the password and entered the portrait hole, and much to Harry’s chagrin all eyes were on them when they entered the common room. It was still quite full considering it was barely eight o’clock.

“Uh, Harry,” Colin Creevey called, “I don’t think girl’s clothes really suit you, but Ginny could definitely pull off the boyish look!”

“Thanks, Colin,” Ginny waved him off, “I’d like to thank my six brothers who helped with this success.” Always the witty one, Harry thought, as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the boy’s staircase.

Harry could hear Romilda Vane say, “..But I thought she already had a boyfriend!” in a clear tone of dismay.

**********************

Hermione was in the boy’s 6th year dorm retrieving her bag from Ron’s bed where she’d left it. Her hands were still shaking, which caused her to drop the bag, the contents spilling everywhere. Hermione groaned and knelt down to retrieve everything. When she was putting the last book in the bag, she heard voices on the staircase.

In a moment’s panic, she jumped onto Ron’s bed with the bag and quickly shut the curtains around it so she wouldn’t be seen. She’d just finished in time as Harry and Ginny stormed into the room.

“What is all the rush for? Am I missing something?” Harry asked as they entered.

“Yes! Of course you are! Now, quick, we’ll get back into our own clothes and then I can go find Hermione.” Ginny lifted Harry’s shirt over her head and tossed it to him. He froze and stared at her, she was only wearing a bra and thin vest. They’d changed in the stalls of the bathroom and threw their clothes over the wall before.

“What are you staring at? I’m still wearing more than I would in the Quidditch locker room, which you might want to get used to since I’m planning on making the team this year,” she said.

That snapped Harry out of it. “Oh, you are, are you?” he said as he peeled her shirt off of himself and tossed it back in kind. “Sorry if it got stretched out a bit,” he said, putting his own shirt back on.

“It’s fine. Not like I’m a witch or anything to set it back to its original fit,” she said, taking off his trousers. It took a bit longer to switch the bottoms back because Harry had to peel her jeans off himself. They were so tight that he couldn’t remember how he even got them on in the first place.

Once they were decent and in their own clothes again, Harry said, “Now, what is going on?”

“Alright, alright! Remember when Hermione was fixated on the heart that Lavender put on Ron’s letter this summer?” Harry nodded. “Well, Lavender and Parvati had been planning this whole thing out, and they recruited Seamus and Dean to ask certain questions that would result in Lavender kissing Ron in the game because she fancies him.”

“She does?” Harry asked.

“Have you not noticed all her annoying giggling and girlishness when she’s around him? It’s revolting,” So, anyways, when I was on the train with Seamus and Dean, they were telling me about it. That’s why I asked to join the game. Once Lavender said yes, I worked with Seamus behind her back and convinced him to ask Hermione the question he was supposed to ask for Lavender.”

“So you’re the reason Hermione kissed Ron?” Harry was trying to make sense of it all.

“Try and keep up, will you? It wasn’t all me. Seamus didn’t like that Lavender was rigging the game, and he vividly remembered Hermione storming out in fourth year, so it was fairly simple to get him on board,” Ginny explained some more.

“Have you told Hermione yet?” Harry asked.

“No! I didn’t get a chance to before the game! That’s why I was trying to get to her.”

“But why’d you want me to stay?”

“Because I don’t know if Lavender was going to retaliate, and if Ron’s still down there, she may still find a way to kiss him, too!”

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t pick her over Hermione….”

“One would hope so,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“..but he said he liked it when Neville asked.” Harry was going through all of the evidence against that happening.

“Yes, I know, but you don’t know how manipulative girls can be when they want something!” Ginny protested. “Now, let’s go down and you check the common room, and I’ll check her dorm.”

They bumped into Ron who was entering the dorm. Neither heard him approach. “Hey, have you guys seen Hermione?” Ginny and Harry both stopped dead in their tracks.

“Is the game over?” Harry asked.

“Dunno, but it was getting weird. Lavender was having a major meltdown, so Neville and I bowed out.” Ron looked over towards his bed and noticed his curtains were drawn. He hadn’t left them like that.

“Oh, er no we haven’t. I was just going to check the girls dorm,” Ginny explained.

“You didn’t do that first?” Ron asked her.

“No. Someone wanted to change clothes back first,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Come on, Harry let’s go.” Ginny once again pulled him along as Ron walked over towards his bed, verbalizing what he’d thought moments before.

“Huh. I don’t remember these being closed when I left earlier.” Ron flicked his wand and the curtains were immediately pulled back.

“Shite,” said Hermione, covering her mouth at the uncharacteristically offensive word.

Ron laughed and sat down next to her. It was an awkward silence before Ron finally broke it. “So….you kissed me.”

Hermione made a small nodding motion with her head. A small smile played at her lips. “And you liked it?”

“You heard about Neville’s truth after you left then?” Ron cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Harry and Ginny weren’t as observant as you, so yes, I heard their whole conversation, including how Lavender tried to rig the game so she could kiss you.”

Ron stared at her. “Oh. Well, I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

“You are?” Hermione asked, trying not to get her hopes up.

“Well, yeah, the way it played out was way better,” he flashed his lopsided grin at her.

Hermione was feeling braver now, “So, does that mean you’d like it if I kissed you again?”

“That depends,” Ron said slowly.

“Oh?” Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat as he moved closer.

“Only if I didn’t do it first,” he said as he closed the gap between them. His lips met hers as she finally let herself feel him kissing her this time, and she was kissing him back.

When they pulled apart, neither could suppress the shy happiness on their faces. “So, does that mean we’re-” Hermione started to say.

Ron cut her off with a “Yes.”

Hermione leaned in again to kiss him because she could do that now. It wasn’t just in her dreams!

“As much as I like this, we should probably head downstairs before Ginny loses her mind,” Ron told her.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Hermione said as Ron stood up. He held his hand out which she gladly took, and they made their way back to the common room.

#romione #hinny #gryffindor friendship #hp fanfic

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johnjohnsonjohnson · 3 years

Text

I’m dumb, now read this

Warm afternoon on Cross street, sounds of loud talks, children's laughter and occasional car passing by in haste were filling the air, creating a soothing but lively music that everyone associates with The City. I was contributing to my part, humming to myself an old melody, with my walking cane in my hands, I rarely used it, being still younger than most of people I spent time with, it was more of a decoration at this point, same could be said for my suit and my top hat. -"Ah, yes, a day for myself, finally!"- I thought as I watched world around me, all the beggars, all the shops, all the kids, and all the adults- "there is going to be a movie at 7 o'clock, oh but I'm too far, unless I..." I stopped by a small intersection going between 2 large housing block, so slim that no car could pass, nor more than 3 people side to side. -"Oh well.. I guess it will be a good change of pace"- I thought as I slowly descended into shadow engulfed passage. Moving forward, the sounds of the main street faded as clap of my boots hitting the ground, water seeping down from drying clothes and occasional sound of people, coming from the tall apartments. Further I went, the sounds coming from the concrete blocks became much more common, I could almost make out what they said, but I didn't wanted to, it's bad to eavesdrop on others. Soon, the passage ended on a small open area with entrances to housing blocks, a shop, and a barber, owner of which was peacefully smoking he cigarette. I knew that I made a mistake, the street I had to follow was definitely longer. -"great thinking mr useless"- I called myself-" I need to find a way out, I still have a chance to get home in time..." My eyes looked at the back aisle between a shop and a barber, definitely not made to be used as a passage, but I was out of ideas. Moving forward, hard stone turned to dirt.. or rather mud, the ground was really mushy and gave out a weird smell, thankfully, it was just cleaning water and booze probably, anyone can accidently drop a bottle out of his window, I know that from experience. The sounds however became even more faded and replaced by distant car horns and a squishy mud that my sad boots had to endure, and the light howls of the wind. -Beautiful... - I said to myself, with annoyance in my mind- I could have gotten by the normal route, but no.. let's try something new... The space between the buildings was just wide enough for me to walk in, but I could feel my shoulders rub against the plastered walls, it was getting harder to walk there, or maybe I just thought to not get any more plaster on me, whichever it was, it made me uneasy, but I finally got free, but I didn't arrived at my destination, I was... I didn't even knew where I was. Before me was a quite wide street, partially taken by cheap flee market, people were selling mostly books and a used cloths, mostly with a old, foldable tables to keep their "valuables" as clean as possible, but many didn't had that luxury, sitting on the cold ground, with only thin layer of material under themselves. Some people were already taking notice of me, half of them smiling, hoping for a wealthy customer, to make their day, other half however was either angry or preoccupied with various magazines, I however moved past them, which was probably disappointing for them, and turned right, while doing so I accidently brushed against someone, I didn't know who it was so I just muttered silently and coldly. -Excuse me..."what an imbecile". I moved forward, ground was less muddy and more dirt-like now, which was nice, but I was still a bit lost , I needed to find a way out not to get in time for the show, but just to escape this part of The City. And then, the sounds became interesting. I heard my steps, firm and heavy, but now there were sounds of other people's steps as well, three people to be exact, two were heavier than me, and one was extremely light, it was almost unnoticeable. Suspecting the worst, I picked the pace to try to lose them, I couldn't go too fast however, with my bear like body, I was afraid I will fall to the ground, turning corners, getting progressively faster and faster, the steps always behind me, I could feel myself sweating a bit both from rising fear and a running which my walk became, but then I fell down. -End of the road, huh?- that's when I was sure that I was followed by three people. -What is the meaning of this?!- I slowly got up, getting dirt off myself, before looking at people that followed me, I was quite surprised, as I saw that two of them were built like a truck, they looked like they were made primarily of mass to make them look as intimidating as possible . The third however looked as if he wasn't even human, resembling more a shadow, a living pile of tar, with slight hit of something similar to a muzzle, but it was hard to say, maybe he was just dirty, but I didn't care enough to ask. -I noticed you didn't bought anything at our majestic market... then slammed your fat frame against me, and we don't like that behavior here- "thing" said with voice like slimy tentacle penetrating my ears- I think you need to pay a "travel fee" -I don't think I will- I muttered and began to walk again, but I soon stopped, when I heard a shot hit the ground next to me, a warning from the "thing" that made me flinch. -Oh, but I know you will- Turning around, I saw the gun in very bad condition , pointed at me, as the "thing" got closer- if you won't reach for cash, I will. Slimy hand moved closer, and almost touched me, which I found revolting, instead I slapped it away and moved back a bit. -You have some balls to act like that on MY territory! - it said, shaking his hand a bit and pushing the gun against my chest, which was also awful, it left big greasy circle on my suit, of course soon worse happened. In my futile attempt to save myself, I decided to act, striking the tar monster with my cane, making him bend a bit, and giving me a slight chance to escape. -Don't let that fuck run away!- Tar said as I tried to run, futile attempt with my bear like physique, as soon I was pushed onto the ground again, probably by one of the burlier men, but this time I decided to stay down and gather my thoughts. -"maybe I can pay him to leave me alone..." My thoughts were interrupted, as I heard the "thing" talk again. -Usually I don't like taking money from corpses, but for you I will make an exception - Not seeing anything I imagined that it was pointing the gun at my head, unless he had one of his goons do the dirty work for him - See you in hell yo- His voice was cut short, as a powerful as noise of a cannon, came, with it a hiss of a bullet, which pierced the "thing's" head, making me glad I didn't saw it, must have been a bloodbath. -Holy shit, run! - One of the goons said as soon there was another shot, and a loud thud of a body hitting the floor, the other one must have gone away. Completely terrified, I slowly raised myself, not sure what happened, looking for my top hat, I didn't even noticed that I lost it. -Come on... where is it? - I looked behind me, it was right next to the lifeless body - Oh god... I hope it isn't dirty. I picked up my hat and brushed off any dust, and dirt, soon however I heard light steps coming from behind me, they were slow, light, with a sound of something metal hitting each other, slowly turning around, I saw him, stranger was dressed as in a cloak so long it almost made his leg movement impossible to notice, it was also incredibly filthy all covered in blood , bottom also sporting a lot of mud stains, and the top crowned with what appeared to be grease stains, his face was covered with some kind of mask, making out his long muzzle, his eyes were cold, pupils dark as a void itself, and he moved closer to me. -I better... yes.. - I began to run back, my shoes splashing into a pool of blood, but I just run back, turning corner as soon as I could. It was hard to see where I was going, as the passages were smaller, and then trapping me at the dead end, with a wall, not too high, I could have climb it easily, if there wasn't something, or rather someone behind me. -Mph... - Stranger said before I turned around, startled. -Thank you for your help, but... but...- I moved back a bit. I think Stranger tried to say something but his mask made it hard to talk, but he must have knew about it, because he kept his talk to a low hum. -Ah... yes, yes... I should pay you for your act.. yes..let me just - I saw how his eyes got angry for some reason, but I took out my wallet, and opened it, much to annoyance of the Stranger. -No you... - He spoke, pulling his mask up a bit, I saw his creamy and orange fur and what appeared as bunch of whiskers, as well as some blue spots of paint, but we were both interrupted by the loud sound of pair of people running towards us, could have been police or more goons, but I wasn't taking my chances, with shaking hands I threw my hat over the fence and then began the climb myself, which was easier said than done, but I managed to do so before anyone, apart from that stranger saw me. Hitting the ground 3rd time I started to curse this day, I was tiered, exhausted, hungry, I decided to end that day short, tomorrow I would do all the relaxing, for now I just wanted to lay down, and not think of today. I brushed dirt off myself and off my hat, before putting it on, I left the passage, as I gladly saw perfectly cut stone pavement of the main street, going to it quickly, and realizing my "shortcut" almost worked, but I wasted so much time in the dark passages it didn't matter, and I didn't care about it, with a quick walk I rushed through the city street, the sweet melody of The City came back, but this time it only made me mad. After a small walk I reached my housing block, I got up to my floor and took out keys to my house. The typical sight of mess and chaos of my house greeted me, as I walked in and locked doors, taking off my clothes, and cleaning my face off all the cosmetics I had put on at the morning, after which I collapsed onto the bed like harder than ever before. However, the terrific events for me didn't start nor ended here, I woke up with sore throat in the middle of the night, I got up and got myself something warm to drink, all the light coming from massive widows of my apartment, making everything look as if no one lived here, but there I was sitting by the window, half awake, I almost thought I heard something, to calm myself, I grabbed a cigarette and lit it, taking a slow and calming drag, trying to get myself a bit more relaxed and calmed. I opened the window, slowly, to air out the room, get rid of stale warm air, but as I looked out, my face went pale and made me regret ever getting up tonight. There he was, in his long cloak, soaked with blood, moving slowly but surely, looking around mostly at the apartments with lights on, but he briefly looked up at mine, hopefully he didn't saw me, if he even was here, at that point I didn't knew if he was real or just figment of my imagination, cigarette butt kept slowly burning in the old ashtray, as I run to hide under blanket on my bed, like I was a child hiding from a monster. -Please go away, please - I whispered softly to no one- please... leave me alone, please...

#is this even good?#story #my grammar sucks #furry #dont ask how it is furry

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linebreaker · 5 years

Text

Birthmark

Also on AO3.

Warnings: light angst; brief mentions of past violence; mentions of past discorporation; discussions of historical anti-Semitism and violence against Jewish people.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

Aziraphale first noticed the mark one morning when Crowley was puttering around the kitchen. The buttery sunlight was filtering through the herbs in the cottage window and fat bees were bumbling about outside, bumping against the glass in their search for flowers.

Crowley had just awoken from one of his week-long naps and stumbled out into the kitchen. Aziraphale regarded him over his reading glasses. He looked soft and sleep-worn, red hair flattened charmingly on one side. His yellow eyes were half-lidded and he was rubbing at one of them with his knuckles.

“Coffee?” he grunted.

“Afraid there’s nothing fresh, dear, but I can—” Crowley flapped his hands at him when Aziraphale went to snap his fingers.

“No, no, no. No. I can get it,” he muttered and then promptly banged his hip against the table corner as he made for the kettle. “Shit!”

Aziraphale huffed out a breath of laughter. “If you insist. That’s what you get for doing it the hard way.”

“It doesn’t taste the same when it’s miracled.”

Looking no more alert—but decidedly more aggravated—than he had before, Crowley went about preparing the kettle. Aziraphale’s morning paper was open in front of him, but it was mostly for show now. He enjoyed watching the demon do mundane things like cook and tend to his garden, so he took ample time to glance up and observe between each line he read.

—carry out services themselves rather than employ private firms, the chancellor has said. John McDonnell said he—

Crowley was still in his sleep clothes. He normally kept to his waistcoats and jackets and sinful trousers, but he’d been noticeably more lax in his apparel over the last few months of their retirement. Aziraphale didn’t mind.

—wants to limit the outsourcing of services such as bin collections by obliging councils to run them—

His loose-fitting pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips. The long-sleeved grey shirt he wore looked soft, its collar wide enough to drape aside and expose a portion of the demon’s shoulder. Aziraphale let his eyes trace along his skin, forming constellations out of the freckles there.

—when existing private contracts expire. Cleaning and school dinners could also be taken back under the plans. The government—

Crowley was barefoot. As he filled the kettle, Aziraphale watched his toes curl against the tile. He rocked up onto the pads of his feet, exposing their delicate arches briefly, before settling again.

—said decisions should be left with local councils. The Confederation of British Industry said Labour’s proposal was “an extreme move devoid of evidence yet—

He managed to get the kettle on without further incident and turned to rest against the counter. With his back to the window, the morning light streamed in around like a halo, silhouetting him. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beams of sunlight.

—dripping in dogma.” In a speech on Saturday, Mr. McDonnell said outsourced contracts were costly and lacked accountability as decisions—

“What’re you looking at, angel?” Crowley asked when he glanced up again. The sunlight made it hard to see his face, but Aziraphale thought he sounded amused.

He smiled and, heart stuttering, answered, “You.”

Crowley froze momentarily. Aziraphale watched as his entire frame went rigid, his edges rippling like a mirage in the desert, before he relaxed again. He scoffed and grumbled something incomprehensible, then turned away again.

Something small and fragile unfurled in Aziraphale’s chest like a blooming flower. He smiled to himself and went back to his paper.

It wasn’t much longer before the kettle started whistling. Crowley moved to take it off the flame and go about preparing his coffee. It was while he was reaching to retrieve (see: steal) Aziraphale’s novelty angel mug off of the top shelf that his shirt rode up to reveal a band of skin. Aziraphale’s eyes were drawn briefly to the divots at the base of the demon’s spine, a little thrill running through him at the sight of them.

Then he noticed the mark.

It was a swath of skin—paler than that which surrounded it, a small swirl of white—that sat just above the jut of Crowley’s hip. Aziraphale squinted, but the shirt fell down and obscured it from view before he could get a decent look.

“Crowley, what is that?”

“Hm?” He was distracted adding heaps of instant coffee to his mug. Personally, Aziraphale detested the stuff, but Crowley was unaccountably attached. Probably because he’d had a hand in inventing it. “What’s what?”

“That mark—there, on your side.”

Crowley finished his preparations and took a sip, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Then he seemed to take in Aziraphale’s question. He paused, rim of the mug pressed against his mouth, and blinked his reptilian eyes at him. “Huh?”

Aziraphale scowled at him as he made his way over to the table—he had a feeling that the demon was being deliberately obtuse. “What is that mark? I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”

Crowley looked bemused as he took his seat across from Aziraphale, mug firmly clutched between his palms. “Never seen it before? You’ve seen me without my clothes on, angel.”

He lifted one eyebrow suggestively and Aziraphale felt his face go hot. Images flashed through his mind—Crowley beneath him, his sweat-slicked thighs up around Aziraphale’s hips, his body arching up like a bow and his slitted pupils blown wide as he came—and he quickly looked away.

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat and focused on folding his paper for a moment. “I was rather preoccupied at the time.”

When he glanced up again, he noticed that Crowley was sporting a lopsided grin and there was a rather fetching shade of pink staining his cheeks. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale huffed and rolled his eyes. “You know perfectly well that I was, you wicked thing, so stop trying to distract me. What is that mark?” he asked again, pulling off his reading glasses and pointing them at the demon. He knew he sounded petulant, but he was terribly curious.

Crowley’s grin faded slowly, an ember burning out until it curled black and lifeless at the corner of his mouth. He shrugged and the wide neck of his shirt draped further down his shoulder. “That mark’s the reason I hate the 14th century.”

Aziraphale, whose gaze had been inextricably drawn to the gentle slope of demonic clavicle that was now on display, blinked and looked back up into his eyes. “What?”

“Well,” Crowley quickly amended, “it’s the main reason, anyway.”

“I thought you once told me that you hated the 14th century because of the Papal Schism?” Aziraphale asked.

“That was certainly part of it, yes,” he confirmed and took a sip of coffee. He looked more alert now. The soft, sleep-mussed air that hung around him after his naps was quickly dissipating. “As well as that Hundred Year War thing and The Plague.”

“As I recall, those were both terrible things that you took credit for,” Aziraphale reminded him with a quirked eyebrow. As much as Crowley seemed to despise the 14th century, it hadn’t been all fun-and-games for Aziraphale, either. Three simultaneous popes, millions dead, revolts and uprisings—it was all enough to make an angel crazy.

“Yes,” Crowley whined, slumping forward in his seat dramatically. “It was full of terrible things and I was terribly busy.”

“Oh, well, you poor dear.”

Crowley scoffed. “Angel, I get the distinct impression that your sympathy is not entirely genuine.”

“My sympathy for devils—you or otherwise—is limited, but I do genuinely adore you, so do with that as you will.”

“I shall,” Crowley said with an absurd waggle of his eyebrows. Aziraphale’s stomach swooped and he rolled his eyes with a fond tolerance.

“Crowley,” he said mildly and tried again. “The mark on your side?”

The demon’s bright yellow eyes regarded him over the top of his mug and, for the first time, Aziraphale could see weary resignation in them. It suddenly struck him how difficult Crowley was making this. A frisson of worry ran down his spine.

“Is—is there something you don’t want me to know? I mean, if so—” he hastened to say when Crowley’s mouth opened. “—that’s perfectly fine. We don’t have to tell each other everything. I just—Well, I just thought—”

“It was an exorcist.”

The rest of Aziraphale’s sentence died in his throat. He felt it whither and turn to dust, coating his tongue with bitter ash. He coughed and asked, “I, uh—beg pardon?”

“An exorcist gave me this mark,” Crowley repeated calmly and gestured towards his left side with a nod of his head. He’d put his mug down and was now focused on Aziraphale. “Back in 1349.”

Aziraphale’s mind began to race. 1349? Where did this happen? Italy? It must have been. Wasn’t I in Italy around that time? Why didn’t he call me for help? Unless—no, we still weren’t really considered acquaintances then, were we? Let alone friends. I don’t think The Arrangement was even in place for another few hundred years—

“Stop.”

The gentle command cut through his increasingly distressed train of thought and Aziraphale jerked in his seat. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and blinked up at Crowley. At some point, he had gotten up and come around to stand beside Aziraphale’s chair, half-sitting on the edge of the table.

“W-what?” he asked, thrown by the demon’s sudden proximity and still reeling from his confession. An exorcist. Why would—

“I said stop.”

Aziraphale blinked. Crowley crossed his arms with a beleaguered sigh and stared down at him. He’d pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and Aziraphale’s heart gave a squeeze at the dusting of light freckles he could see across his skin.

“I know your brain,” Crowley said. “I know it’s going hell for leather right now trying to figure everything out and I’m sure you’ve somehow managed to blame yourself.”

Aziraphale swallowed and looked away, his eyes lowering to study the wood grain of the table.

“Angel, we weren’t even friends back then,” Crowley said in exasperation, echoing his earlier thoughts. Aziraphale looked back up at him. “You thinking that you were in some way responsible for a run of bad luck I had nearly 700 years ago is just your—” He stammered briefly, jostling his shoulders like he was trying to knock the right words loose. “—angelic guilt or whatever.”

“You saved me more times than I can count and I couldn’t even—”

“I saved myself,” Crowley insisted.

Aziraphale swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t have had to,” he said softly, heart fluttering like a wounded bird within the cage of his ribs.

Crowley made one of his incoherent little noises and then turned away, casting his angular features into profile. The corner of his mouth was pulled down in a frown, jaw grinding back and forth. Aziraphale wanted to reach out to him—to press love in the shape of fingerprints into his warm skin. However, he didn’t think his touch would be well-received at the moment.

Instead, he asked, “Will you tell me about it?”

Crowley looked at him out of the corner of his eye, seeming to consider him. “I think it’ll just upset you,” he finally said.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed, my dear,” Aziraphale told him. His throat squeezed around the words as he spoke them, rasping against them until they were little more than a whisper. “Please tell me.”

The sigh that passed Crowley’s lips was an ancient thing—something he’d been carrying around for nearly a millennium in his chest. He rolled his neck back and forth. Then he said, “It was in Basel.”

“Switzerland?” Aziraphale asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t Switzerland at the time, but the sentiment is the same. That’s where it happened. Y-you remember how, after The Black Plague, there were—well, um, there was a lot of hatred towards the Jewish community?”

Aziraphale nodded once, a grim set to his mouth. “I remember,” he said. “The pogroms.”

The Jewish Black Death massacres. They’d started up in 1348 as a result of the plague sweeping across Europe and had lasted for a few years. Christians killing Jews because they thought they were somehow responsible for the disease that had ravaged the continent—that they had invoked the wrath of God or were poisoning the well water. Ridiculous, Aziraphale thought viciously.

Crowley uncrossed his arms so that he could gesticulate while he spoke. “Right. It was a crazy time; everyone was dying and people wanted someone to blame.”

“They usually do,” Aziraphale said without humor. He reached across the table for Crowley’s abandoned coffee, brushing his arm against the demon’s hip. “Human nature.”

“There’s nothing natural about wanting to wipe out an entire race or religion.”

“I don’t disagree.” He took a tentative sip of the coffee and grimaced, quickly holding it out to Crowley. “That is terrible,” he coughed, smacking his lips to try ridding himself of the burnt flavor.

“You just don’t have my exquisite taste,” Crowley sighed, taking the mug out of his hand. His fingertips slid across Aziraphale’s knuckles and an involuntary shiver ran up the angel’s spine. “Anyway, that’s what I was doing in Basel. My people had sent me there a few days before the massacre—I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t have anything to do with the previous pogroms in Savoy or Erfurt or Toulon, really. I think they just assumed I had.”

Aziraphale believed him. Though Crowley had definitely softened during the course of their 6000 year acquaintance, he had never seemed the type to tempt people into mass-slaughter. He was more the inconvenience-people-into-sinning kind of demon. He’d said so himself that, many times, the humans basically took care of the big stuff themselves. No tempting needed.

“And Basel is where you met the, uh, exorcist?” Aziraphale asked.

“Mm-hm,” Crowley mumbled, staring down into his mug with pursed lips. “And, really, I use the term exorcist extremely loosely. He wasn’t what I would consider a professional by any means. I think he just got lucky.”

What Aziraphale wanted to say was that, if the man had truly been an amateur, maybe it was Crowley who had gotten lucky. He bit his tongue, though. Crowley’s posture was hunched, defensive—his shoulders curled forward and his back bowed. His eyes had a distant, vaguely haunted look to them. So Aziraphale swallowed down his anxiety and waited.

Eventually, Crowley blinked like he was coming out of a trance and looked over at him. His yellow irises were blown out, encompassing his eyes. “He got me the day after the riot. There was still ash in the air from, um—from where the townspeople had locked the adults up and set the building on fire. There were kids that the Christians were forcibly converting and I was—I had been drinking. I just, uh—” Crowley paused. Took a breath. “I just don’t like it when they get kids involved.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said, infinitely gentle.

“Anyway, I think my—my glasses slipped and he saw my eyes or—I dunno, he smelled sulphur on me or something—”

You don’t smell like sulphur, Aziraphale thought, but didn’t dare interrupt. You smell like frankincense.

“—but I p-passed out or he knocked me out and the next thing I remember is that I was strung up somewhere. It was dark and smelled like—like hay and shit. Probably a barn. He, uh . . .”

Crowley trailed off, looking away again. He was running his nails along the rim of his mug, filling the silence with a low, chittering resonance that set Aziraphale’s teeth on edge. He longed to reach out and lay his hands over Crowley’s—to still them and imbibe some comfort. He linked his fingers together on the tabletop instead.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked in an even tone, trying to sound as though he wasn’t crawling out of his skin.

Crowley’s eyes skittered back over to him. Tension was evident in the set of his jaw and the stark whiteness of his knuckles where he gripped his mug. “Do you want to hear about it?”

Aziraphale frowned, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He’d been present at an exorcism before. Rome, around the turn of the 19th century. He’d stood back and observed as two Catholic priests attempted to drive the demon Leraje from the body of a young woman.

It had laughed and snarled threats, and Aziraphale had felt its opalescent eyes rake over him. Then Father Cancio had begun chanting his Latin phrases and Father D’Agostino had thrown blessed oils and holy water in its face. The demon’s skin had split and steamed, blisters forming over blisters as Leraje writhed and shrieked. Its dirty fingers had gouged marks into the arms of the chair it was tied to, blood pooling along its cuticles as the nails snapped off, its joints buckling. It bit off the woman’s tongue—spat it onto the floor at their feet—and blood had boiled in its mouth as it shouted obscenities at them.

It had lasted for hours. In the end, Leraje had been exorcised and the woman had died in the chair. Aziraphale could still smell the blood; could still hear her skin sizzling under the holy water.

Then he imagined Crowley in Leraje’s place and his stomach turned so violently that he nearly threw up.

“I never want to hear about you getting hurt, my dear,” he eventually whispered. “But I am here if you want to—”

Crowley waved a hand, cutting him off. “No, I, uh—I’d rather not discuss the details of that, if it’s all the same to you, angel.”

Aziraphale’s breath left him in a messy rush and he felt lightheaded with relief. He had asked Crowley to tell him. He would listen if the demon wanted to explain what had happened to him during his own exorcism attempt, but Aziraphale would rather peel his own skin off than have those images in his head.

“Of course,” he said, voice weak.

Crowley set his mug down on the table behind him, then folded his arms across his midsection, hands grasping loosely at his own elbows. “In any case, after—after everything, I managed to get loose and kill the silly bugger.”

Good, Aziraphale thought viciously.

“I was in pretty bad shape,” Crowley continued, staring blankly off into the middle distance. There was a fine sheen of sweat glistening at his temple and Aziraphale watched his throat move with a swallow. “I got out of Basel and only just managed to make it to the next town before I collapsed. The exorcist—he didn’t have any holy water, thank Somebody, but he did have this, uh, I dunno—a coin or a pendant. I didn’t get a good look at it. It must’ve been a holy relic or something, because it burned like a blessed sonofabitch; left welts all over that I couldn’t heal.”

Crowley reached down absentmindedly and touched his side where Aziraphale knew the mark to be. “This one was the worst. It got infected and I got a fever. I’m sure you can imagine what that looked like back in 1349.”

A lump of dread settled in the pit of Aziraphale’s stomach, poisonous apprehension seeping out into the rest of his body like lead into drinking water. “Like you had the plague.”

Crowley clicked his tongue and said cheerlessly, “Got it in one, angel.”

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked and Crowley sighed wearily.

“The fever wiped me out—put me into a coma, most likely. The townspeople thought I had died, so they buried me in a mass grave with other plague victims—”

“What?” Aziraphale gasped, horrified.

“—and I don’t remember much after that. I discorporated at some point; wound up back in Hell. After lots of paperwork and whatnot, I got back topside around 1378.”

“Y-you discorporated? How—how did I not know that? You, erm—” Aziraphale stopped. Drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to center himself. When he opened them again, he found Crowley’s gaze on him. The yellow of his irises had retreated back to their centers. “You don’t look any different,” he told the demon. “You got—what? A-a copy of your body?”

“Did I mention: lots of paperwork,” Crowley said and Aziraphale was relieved to hear humor in his voice.

“1378?” he asked, then sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just in time for the Papal Schism, I see.”

“Three popes are three too many, angel.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he said lightly, letting a small smile pull at his mouth. Then he amended, “In this case.”

Crowley chuckled and the pressure seemed to ease off of his shoulders, the tension that had gathered around him like graveyard mist breaking apart and abating. The soft morning sun had transformed his hair into a coppery halo; it caressed his face, highlighting the delicate lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.

Aziraphale watched him for a few moments, then asked hesitantly, “And, um—the mark was, uh, still there when you—when you came back?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “It was the only one. Everything else hadn’t left so much as a scar, but this one—it stayed. Dunno why. Maybe because it was the deepest wound or maybe because it was the one that eventually discorporated me. Or maybe Hell just left it there as a reminder when they remade my body.”

“A reminder?”

Crowley shrugged, the loose nonchalance he was trying to affect ruined by the way his eyes flitted away from Aziraphale’s face. “A reminder that I’m weak or—or maybe reliant on them?”

Aziraphale ached for him. His heart was a crushing weight in his chest. You aren’t weak, he thought.

He swallowed and lifted a hand towards Crowley, hovering just shy of touching him. “May I see?” he asked in a quiet voice.

There was a moment when he thought that Crowley would refuse; would push himself away from the table and disappear into the bedroom; would hole himself away and sleep for a hundred years. But then Crowley sighed, resigned. He reached down and lifted the edge of his shirt, pivoting slightly so that Aziraphale could view the back of his hip.

The mark was obvious, but Aziraphale let his eyes drag over the rest of Crowley’s golden skin before he examined it. He ran his gaze along the shallow dips between each rib, counted the lumps of his spine. Patches of freckles stood out like tiny galaxies.

“You’re beautiful,” he said absentmindedly. Then he blushed.

Crowley huffed out a laugh, relaxing. “Thank you, angel. You’re not so bad yourself.” Aziraphale looked up at him just in time to catch a cheeky wink. He rolled his eyes.

“You’re also ridiculous.”

“You like me.”

“I certainly do not,” Aziraphale said airily and his heart gave a little flutter when Crowley chuckled. With a smile, he returned to his perusal of the warm skin before him, finally letting himself look at the white mark on Crowley’s side.

It was smaller than Aziraphale had initially thought—no bigger than a two pence—and was almost perfectly round. He suspected that whatever had made the mark had been intricately decorated, but the curving lines it left behind were now blurred and he couldn’t make out any details.

“You didn’t try to miracle this away?” he asked.

“Oh, I did,” Crowley said, sounding resigned. “No good. It’s one scar that I can’t make go away.”

It doesn’t really look like a scar. More like a patch of vitiligo, he thought, reaching up unthinkingly to touch the mark. He laid his fingertips against its edge and Crowley hissed out a shocked breath.

Aziraphale jerked his hand back, distraught. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he stammered. “I-I didn’t—”

“You’re fine,” Crowley said, a slight tremble in his voice. His shirt was still pulled up, but he’d reached down to cover the mark with his own hand, rubbing at it. “Just startled me is all.”

Aziraphale watched him run his fingers along the skin, worry gnawing at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You can touch me, if you want.”

“Well, dear, I always want to touch you,” he said without thinking and with far more levity than he felt. Crowley lifted his eyebrows at him and Aziraphale huffed. “Oh, hush. You’re hardly scandalized.”

Crowley grinned. “Here,” he said with a little sigh and reached over to take ahold of Aziraphale’s hand. His grip was a loose circle around his wrist, fingertips stroking over his pulse point and sending frissons of pleasure up his arm. Crowley pulled and Aziraphale went willingly, his heart in his throat. He let the demon press his palm against the mark, his own fingers smoothing over the back of Aziraphale’s hand before he let go.

His skin was warm and pliant, and Aziraphale let himself enjoy having it beneath his fingers once again before he really focused on the mark. He ran a thumb along its edge. It was smooth, not raised like he expected a scar to be—more like a birthmark.

And then it struck Aziraphale. That’s exactly what it was: a birthmark. Crowley had been tortured, branded, killed, and then had carried the mark into his new body after his resurrection. A reminder of his failings.

Before he could think about what he was doing, Aziraphale leaned forward. He placed his lips over the mark, sucking a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the white skin. Above him, he heard Crowley hiss in a startled breath. Fingers wove through his hair, caressing his scalp.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, sounding breathless.

He kept his mouth where it was. Using his tongue and teeth and lips, he pressed love and reassurance down into the skin, marking Crowley’s side. The demon’s ragged breaths filled the kitchen and his fingers dragged through Aziraphale’s curls when he pulled back to examine his handiwork. Where the white birthmark had once been, the skin now stood out red and blotchy.

“Did you just give me a hickey?” Crowley asked, sounding equal parts offended and impressed.

“Not really,” Aziraphale said and passed a thumb over the red mark. Angelic power tingled like a static charge as he miracled the erythema away and Crowley gave a little jolt.

“Hey! What did you do?” he huffed and craned his neck to take a look.

Then he froze.

Aziraphale watched him, his pulse thrumming like hummingbird wings in his throat as Crowley touched the skin where the mark had once been. In its place, a mass of dark freckles now stood.

An angel’s kiss.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Aziraphale told him, his voice reedy. “I just—I adore you. I worship every inch of you. And if there is a part of you that causes you pain—a mark that reminded you of an event so traumatic you would despise an entire millennium because of it—Well, if I could take that mark away . . .”

Crowley looked up at him, his eyes wide, but said nothing. Aziraphale swallowed down the worry that threatened to choke him and continued.

“You aren’t weak,” he told Crowley. “You are wily and resilient and you care so much. I know that you’re a demon and you don’t want to hear it, but I see so much good in you that naming everything I love would be like counting the stars. I can’t do it. You are made of starlight. I wish that I was half as strong as—”

He didn’t get to finish. Crowley swooped down and caught his mouth in a bruising kiss. Aziraphale gasped into it and reached up to catch ahold of Crowley’s shoulders, hanging on. The demon’s fingers traced over the tops of his ears and down along his jawline as he kissed him, eliciting tiny shivers from Aziraphale.

It lasted only for a few seconds before Crowley retreated, playfully nipping at Aziraphale’s bottom lip as he went, but the angel was left winded. Crowley smiled at him, looking beautifully rumpled, and said, “Thank you, angel.”

It sounded remarkably like I love you, too.

Aziraphale grinned back, relief and happiness pouring out of his bones like sunlight and warming the garden blooming in his chest. His heart pounded. “You’re quite welcome, my dear.”

They spent a few moments quietly regarding one another, Crowley absentmindedly touching his side through his shirt. Then he reached out to Aziraphale, laying a hand against his cheek.

“I,” he said in a gentle voice, drawing out the syllable as he swept a thumb across the skin just beneath Aziraphale’s eye, “am going to take a shower.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Been asleep for a week,” Crowley said by way of explanation. He dropped his hand and pushed himself away from the table. Aziraphale watched him go, eyes drawn to the sway of his hips, and tried not to feel disappointment that Crowley was walking away instead of kissing him.

He sighed and mumbled, “Well then, I suppose I’ll make some tea.”

“Or you could join me?”

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley. He was standing in the kitchen entrance, leaning heavily against the doorframe. There was a smile on his face, and he looked soft and vulnerable in his too-big shirt and bare feet. Then his eyelids fluttered and his smile morphed into a predatory grin, lips curling up to reveal his straight, white teeth. Arousal dropped into Aziraphale’s stomach like a lead weight; his breath shuddered out of his lungs.

“C’mon, angel,” Crowley said, his voice a deep rumble like the beginnings of a summer storm. “I’ll put marks all over your skin this time.”

Then he disappeared through the doorway, leaving Aziraphale gaping in his wake. The angel sat there for a moment, listening as Crowley moved about on the other side of the small cottage. The shower started up.

Aziraphale thought about Crowley’s naked skin; about steam curling up around his legs and hips and back; about water beading along freckles instead of white birthmarks. He smiled and stood.

The tea could wait.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

Based on the prompt: “Why does Crowley hate the 14th century?” Requested by @needscaffeine. This took FOREVER, as I had to wrestle it to the ground and get it back on track several times.

#good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #fic prompt #fic request #crowley #aziraphale #angst #light angst #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #oneshot #this turned out a longer than i thought it would #holy jeebus it's a monster

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