#my chest muscle stuff is still kind of flared up so it limits how long I can sketch on the computer

[lucalicatteart]

cannot resist using the polls to make up a little collaborative story lol.. Not sure how much I can keep it up with my low energy/health problems lol, but I'll try to draw a new picture (+ write a small text blurb and new action options to vote on) each day based on the past day's results, at least for a while. Kind of like a 'sketch a day' type challenge, except story based with votes choosing what happens next. :0

[iamtaekooked]

↳Genre: Angst (literally that’s all this is)

↳Prompt: “If you don’t hold me right now, i might just fall apart” 

↳Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Manipulation and betrayal

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Synopsis: 

Jeongguk lets go of you. But when he comes back into your life for the briefest of moments he’s a little too late.

↳A/N: This is for the wonderful @gguksgalaxy for the prompt game which I was doing like months ago. I wrote this long ago and forgot to post it (big dumb energy) Sorry Gwaen. The ending made me super sad though. But I hope you like it!

{18 years of age} 

Your heart thumps in your chest as everyone slowly gets picked into the teams. This is why you hated PE. You were usually the last one to be picked because everyone knew of your thorough incapability to play any kind of sports. It was common knowledge within your high school. So when you were forced to choose physical education as an elective to complete the required credits to graduate, you had no choice but to make yourself resilient to the fact that you would always be picked last. 

It was worse because right now Jimin and Jeongguk were the captains of the dodgeball teams. As soon as he was chosen the captain of Team A Jimin had immediately looked to you and a sly smile tugged on his lips. You could see the wheels turning in his mind and you knew he was up to something. 

So as you stand in the horrible PE attire you hope Jimin chooses you because the alternative will likely end up with you passing out. You can’t be in the same team as Jeon Jeongguk because you have a massive crush on him and every time you see him you feel like you will die. Some people call it being overdramatic but you call it being a teenager with no control over her emotions. You and Gus Isaacs are the only two people left as Jimin picks one of the guys from grade 12 into his team as his second-last pick. Not you, but someone else. 

“Y/n” 

You hear your name somewhere far in the distance but ignore the call and continue ruminating and chewing on your lip in the process. 

“Y/n” you hear your name again, and this time it’s a bit clearer but you still ignore it and think you are probably hallucinating. Until Gus Isaacs elbows your side to bring you back to reality. 

You wince in pain and hold onto the spot, giving Gus the evil eye as he motions towards the front. “Jeongguk chose you to be in his team” 

You blink stupidly at him as if you can’t comprehend what he’s saying. You can’t. You hear the words ‘Jeongguk chose you to be in his team’ but they don’t connect right in your head. In fact they don’t connect at all so you miss the memo while the whole class gawks at you as you stare blankly at Gus. 

“Y/n, do you wanna join the team?” Jeongguk asks firmly and with the usual confidence he carries. 

In your repeated blinking state you turn to look ahead only to be subjected to a questioning look by Jeongguk. 

Then your vision starts blurring and the last thing you remember is a heavy feeling taking over your limbs and someone shouting your name. 

You awaken about an hour later in the school infirmary. You crack open an eye to find a boringly dull white ceiling gracing your view. You open your other eye and lower your gaze to find-

“Jeongguk?” 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

Why the fuck is Jeon Jeongguk here and not Jimin? 

“I am fine” you strain as you try to get up. Jeongguk immediately places his hands on your elbows to help you sit up. You’re too wrapped up in your confusion to notice Jeongguk is touching you, otherwise, there would have been a reaction. “Where is Jimin?”

“He had to go to class and well someone needed to be here with you. So, I stayed” 

“You don’t even know me” it’s a wonder you’re able to speak at all given that you fainted because of him. But he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffs in a non-condescending way. “I have had every class with you since grade 8. Of course, I know you. Plus Jimin never shuts up about you and how great you are” 

“You know me?” your eyes widen

He rolls his eyes. “Stop treating me like I am some damn celebrity. Contrary to the popular belief I am not a jerk” 

“But you are a celebrity” you mumble under your breath, sheepishly casting your gaze at your lap. 

“What?” he squints his eyes at you. 

“Nothing. You can go by the way. I am fine” you swing your legs over the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. You pull yourself up with effort but a light feeling runs through you and you wobble on your feet and fall back down on the tiny bed. 

“Yeah. You’re totally fine” Jeongguk muses sarcastically as he steadies you. “The nurse said you should go home. I’ll take you. Come on” 

Your muscles feel tight and you feel the tension in every limb. This is probably what your mom means when she says she’s had an arthritis flare-up. It’s definitely not a fun feeling. You can’t move a muscle as Jeongguk quietly waits for you to say something. This is the most surreal situation you have ever been in. The eighteen-year-old you, crazed by hormones and prone to fantasizing doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

“I can go home by myself” 

“Sure. If you want faint on the way and then get kidnapped by some random creepy dude. Go ahead. Eighteen-year-old girls are like a hot commodity for those psycho’s” Jeongguk says firmly, clearly trying to scare you into submission. 

“What makes you think I won’t get kidnapped if you’re with me?” you question with a slight intention of teasing. 

He looks scandalized as his nose scrunches and brows knit together so tightly you never thought it was possible for someone to be that offended. “Excuse me. Have you seen me?” 

Yes of course, you have seen him. You’ve memorized his whole fucking face and embedded it so deep into your memory you made sure that even retrograde amnesia couldn’t get rid of it. You have been looking at him from afar for so long, you know every little thing about him. 

“Just because you are slightly buff doesn’t mean you can help me” 

“Wow” his jaw drops. “I have added weights to my routine so I am way stronger than I used to be. I could protect you”

“Spoken like a true teenage guy living on testosterone” you chuckle. 

He rolls his eyes yet again. “So now that I have proven my point, can I take you home?” 

“I’ll spare your ego” your lips pull into a grin which he echoes. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and you stand firmly on the ground, waiting to feel stable before you begin walking. Jeongguk doesn’t let go eyes resting on your face as he watches you inhale slowly before nodding. 

Your skin burns, every limb feels with fiery wrath the effect of his touch. Your mouth dries, throat completely parched. Your hands become clammy as you curl your fists into the sticky palm. 

“Are you good?” he asks

You nod. “It’s alright. You can let go” 

“And have you fall and then I get blamed for it? No way” he shakes his head, resolute. 

You sigh. “Fine then. Walk me home” you say and you won’t lie that even just a little part of you is ecstatic. 

“Gladly” he greets you with a grin when you look up at him. “Where is your locker?” he asks as you both step out of the infirmary and into the quiet hall. 

“It’s okay. I can text Jimin to bring my stuff later” 

“You and Jimin that close?” he sounds resigned about it. 

“I thought Jimin talked about me” you question as you walk side by side, Jeongguk guiding you with his hand on the small of your back. 

“He says you’re friends. But he never mentioned you were close enough for him to go to your house” Jeongguk explains, his previously cheery voice slightly deflated. 

“That’s kinda hard to do when he lives just down the street and he loves my mom’s cooking” you press your lips into a thin smile. 

“Ah” he nods in acknowledgement. “Is he just a friend or…” Jeongguk trails, not really needing to go any further because it is self-explanatory. 

You reach the west side exit and step out into the cool spring afternoon with the sun shining brightly overhead. “Why are you so interested?” you cock a brow at him. 

“No reason” he shrugs. “Just wanted to know if Jimin had a girl” he waves it off casually. “Anyway, so tell me something about yourself” 

Your eyes narrow in confusion. “We’re making small talk now?” 

“I didn’t mention the weather did I?” Jeongguk chuckles. 

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

He pouts, eyes squinting as he looks into the distance. He looks cute when pouts and he does that a lot. It’s creepy that you know this but when you’ve spent a better part of your high school life fantasizing over the guy it becomes second nature after a while. 

“Tell me something Jimin doesn’t know” his eyes widen with a hint of excitement. 

“Oh, that’s hard because I tell Jimin everything” you pause, trying to rack your brain for something you have never told Jimin. 

“There has to be one thing” Jeongguk prompts. 

Your lips just out as you try really hard to think. 

Then it hits you. 

“Don’t tell him but one time when we were younger he thought he lost his favourite toy. But really I took it from him and never told him about it” 

“Wow. What a thief” Jeongguk teases with a laugh. 

“He still talks about it and it’s so awkward” you shake your head, reminiscing about the time when Jimin has mentioned his missing action figurine. 

“Why did you take it?” Jeongguk asks. 

“The day before I took it, he went off to play with some of the other kids. I was mad that I had to play alone while he was having fun with them on the roundabout, and the swings and they were running around laughing. I felt abandoned so the next day I took it and pretended like he lost it” 

“Remind me not to piss you off” he jokes, his hand which was resting on the small of your back, suddenly thrown over your shoulder. 

You look down at his hand as it dangles over your shoulder. It’s awfully intimate for two people who have just met. But you shake your head because you can’t let these thoughts limit you and freeze you up. You’re finally talking to him and you’re having a good conversation. So you can’t jeopardize this because your body automatically reacts to his touch. That can’t be why you shoot yourself in the foot, so you maintain your calm by inhaling deeply and forcing your body to relax. 

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone” you look at him, noticing how he’s chewing on his lips looking into the distance. 

He looks down at you with a soft smile. “I’ll tell you. I promise. When the time is right” 

“How is that fair?” you pout. 

“Wow child” he pinches your nose, wrinkling his own nose in a cute manner. He retracts his hand, letting it fall to his side.

“Fine. It’s not like I’ll die if I don’t know your deepest darkest secret” 

It elicits a hearty laugh from him. 

{20 years of age}

Jeongguk stands at your door, chewing on his lip as he tries to decide if he’s making the wrong move. But then he remembers he promised he’ll tell you something he hasn’t told anyone. Even if that was two years ago and he’s a little too late in keeping his promise he still needs to tell you. He doesn’t know where it’s going to head, or what exactly he’s going to say because you’re kind of his best friend and he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care about you. 

So with a deep inhale he knocks on the door and waits. He can hear the footsteps nearing and then the door opens to reveal you. 

“Who invited you?” you joke, stepping aside and motioning for him to come in. 

“I invited myself. I think I can come to my best friend’s house without an invitation. It’s kinda my right” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple before ridding himself of his shoes and walking down the hall and falling onto the couch. 

You follow him with a shake of the head. After two years of being friends and then eventually best friends with him, you’ve made yourself five percent immune to his actions which border between platonic and romantic. You don’t think he realizes it because he always does things like holding your hand out of nowhere or kissing you on the forehead as a goodbye. 

You collapse next to him, and like a reflex, he pulls you into him wrapping an arm around your shoulder, fingers stroking the soft flesh. “I ask again you’re here because…” 

“I can’t come and see my best friend? I missed you” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes close momentarily as you cherish his touch because this is all you will get. This is as close you will be to being something more to him. 

“You can. But you just saw me five hours ago and we hung out. Now you’re here and you’re…” you look up at him and place your index finger in the middle of his forehead. “Now you’re frowning which means you’re stuck” 

“I am stuck?” he looks down at you, a soft crinkle in the corner of his eyes. 

“I mean something is bothering you” you pull your finger away and rest your hand in your lap. 

“How do you always know?” he smiles softly. 

Yeah. How do you know? 

Is it because you have loved the guy for so long or because you pay very careful attention to him? It’s not like you can tell him so you settle for-

“I just know. Now tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours” you tap his temple with your finger. 

“Okay first, I am not big-headed. Secondly, I have something to tell you” 

“Are you finally going to keep your promise from two years ago?” you shuffle your head so you can get a look at him. He’s lost in thought, a vacant expression holding his gaze away from you. 

“I am kind of dating Kira” he lets out a shaky breath. 

You pull yourself away, suddenly feeling cold all over. Your heart pounds against your chest, the rhythm thrumming so loud in your ears they start ringing. You swallow, looking into the eyes of this majestic man in front of you who has slipped from your fingers like sand. There is no hope now. He’s gone. 

But worse than that he’s dating Kira. She’s the epitome of a mean girl. Even worse. 

“Since when?” you whisper softly, feeling your heart shatter into pieces as each second passes by. 

“Four months” he replies, not meeting your gaze. “I was going to tell you but I thought I’d wait until things get serious enough” 

If there was ever any hope of recovering from this, it’s gone now. You can imagine yourself moping, and crying in the near future because you couldn’t tell him first how you felt. Maybe if you had given in to bravery instead of your fears you might have been the one dating him. 

“Why?” your heartbreak echoes in your words. You don’t know if he can hear it. You’re not even mad that he kept it from you for months. You are so severely hurt you can’t even begin to feel angry about it. It feels hollow inside, like the place where your heart should be is empty. A cold chill runs down your spine as you stare into Jeongguk’s eyes-- the ones that always feel like home-- but now they feel like a strange abyss. 

“Because she’s actually sweet. She’s nice” 

You put your feelings aside for a moment because this is bigger than you. Just because you feel like you’re suffocating sitting next to him; just because it feels like the end and just because you feel like you’ll die doesn’t mean you’ll let him ruin himself. She’s wrong for him in ways he can’t see. 

“Jeongguk. Listen, I know you think you like her. I know you think she’s nice but she’s not” 

“Please y/n” he whispers, reaching for your hand and holding it in his. “Not you. You have to side with me on this” 

“I want to. If this was someone else” your throat constricts even thinking about it. You swallow. “I would be completely happy for you. But Kira isn’t what you deserve. You deserve better. You deserve good and she’s not it” 

Jeongguk’s hold on your hand slackens. “Just because you can’t see the good in her, doesn’t mean she isn’t” 

You stare back at him, the way his jaw sets tightly, the way he’s trying so hard not to be angry at you. “I can’t. I can’t tell you what you want to hear. My job as your best friend is to save you not destroy you” 

He pulls his hand away from yours and gets up. “Whatever,” he says. “I don’t need your approval. I just thought I should tell you” 

“Jeongguk-” 

“Bye y/n” his gaze lingers on you before he walks to the front door and leaves. 

You didn’t think your friendship with Jeongguk was so fragile that it would fracture under the weight of his feelings for Kira. But since he’s actually avoiding you, you presumed wrong. He’s not been answering any of your texts or calls. He hasn’t visited you even once in the weeks after he admitted the truth to you. 

He’s vanished from your life-- like he never existed. 

It leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach to know that he’s just decided not to be a part of your life anymore. You feel hurt, but more than feeling hurt you feel disappointed in yourself. Trust is a fickle thing. It’s earned through effort and broken without lifting a finger. Did Jeongguk not know that? Does he not understand that you want what is best for him? Can he really not see that you have always been on his side? 

But how do you bring someone back from the edge when they have decided to take the fall? 

“Missing your best friend?” Kira makes an unwanted appearance as your eyes focus back to reality. She’s got a sly smirk on her face. 

You roll your eyes. “I am sure you got into his head”

“He’s not a plaything. He knows what’s right and wrong for him” she folds her arms across her chest. 

“You got what you wanted. Fuck off now” you bite through clenched teeth as you gather your belongings, ready to leave. You’re almost out of the door when Kira speaks. 

“He knows you like him.” she says in a condescending tone. 

Your steps halt and so does your heart. You turn around. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower” 

She shrugs. “Your perceptions of me are your problem. Not mine” 

“A snake like you doesn’t deserve him” 

She laughs with a roll of her eyes. “You think you deserve him?” 

Your jaw sets tight as you glare at her. “I do. I deserve him because I’ve been with him through thick and thin. I’ve mended his broken heart, I’ve tended to him when he fell sick, I’ve put my life on hold to help him live his. So fuck yes I deserve him” 

She quietly observes smirk still plastered to her lips like she’s incapable of expressing herself in any other way. But then the smirk falters and sets into a frown. “Y/n please don’t” she reaches for your hands, crushing them between hers on purpose. 

“What?” your nose scrunches in confusion. 

“Jeongguk is your best friend. Don’t leave him because of me” her eyes become glossy, furthering your confusion. “I’ll break up with him” a single tear escapes her eye. 

“Wha-” 

“Kira. Dont.” a firm voice draws your attention. You turn around to find Jeongguk glaring at you. 

With quick strides, he stands between you and Kira and he tugs her hands out of yours. 

“I know you don’t like her but I never thought you would try to go behind my back and try to sabotage my relationship” Jeongguk looks at you with such venom laced eyes it pulls at your heartstrings. 

“What? I didn’t even-” 

“It’s okay kookie” Kira sniffles leaning into his chest. 

You gawk at her, blinking repeatedly at the scene in front of you. 

“Wow” your brows knit together, jaw agape as you look at her completely mortified. “She’s lying” you turn to Jeongguk. His nostrils flare, chest heaving as he stares at you--clearly not believing you, his best fucking friend of two years. He takes the word a girl he’s known for a few months. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. His eyes say it all, the hatred with which he’s looking at you says it all. 

“You know what Jeongguk, she’s changed you and you can’t even see it” your eyes sting with tears. You have so much to say but you bite your words because Jeongguk can’t see past his feelings. 

“You just can’t see me happy because you like me” his voice cracks, and you can see the shine overcoming his eyes before he turns away. 

Your heart sinks in your chest. It’s not what he’s saying. It’s the accusatory tone of his voice that hurts. “Well, congratulations Jeongguk. You don’t have to feel burdened by it anymore. Have a great fucking life” you bite. 

Kira looks up at you, a smile quivering on her lips. She glances up at Jeongguk who’s looking away to the side and then turns to you as she lets herself smile. She’s won. 

You turn on your heels and walk away from them-- from the pain of it all because there is no point anymore. It’s like someone has driven a stake through your heart. It would have been better if that happened because the alternative is losing your best friend which hurts more than any pain that could be inflicted on you. 

There is a sharp ache that settles in your chest as you walk away. But even as you do there is a tiny sliver of hope that he’ll call out your name and tell you to stay. Bit by bit it breaks as you step further away from him, until you are out of the door. 

But you don’t hear his voice

{23 years of age}

You didn’t think you would ever get over Jeongguk. But Jimin helped you in ways you couldn’t imagine. He never took advantage of your vulnerable state, he never inserted himself in your life when you were at your weakest. He was just there, being your friend when you realized that somehow he had pieced your heart back together without even trying. 

He never tried to get you to move on from Jeongguk. He knew you liked him-- loved him rather. He was there for the drunken nights when all you could manage were sobs because your chest felt tight, and memories of Jeongguk would come rushing back in your inebriated state. Jimin’s silence spoke volumes and even through the haze you could see how much he cared as he would silently place your head on his shoulder and hold you close. 

Since the day Jeongguk let you walk away from his life, Jimin has been there. He’s with you now, holding your hand, squeezing it tight as Jeongguk stands in front of you, puffy-eyed. Jimin slowly laces his fingers with yours, eyes never wavering from Jeongguk. The breath that has been caught in your throat finally releases and relief floods your chest. A slight ache settles deep somewhere, into far depths of your entire being and it begins to radiate until you feel a sharp stabbing sensation in your chest that has you squeezing Jimin’s hand like its your lifeline. 

“Y/n” Jeongguk’s quiet and firm voice reverberates through the air as it reaches you

Pain forgotten, your eyes find purchase on the floor. You can feel your knees beginning to give out, a slight quiver indicating that you won’t be able to stand much longer. You are suddenly steadied on your feet. You look down at your waist to find a hand resting on your side.

“I’ve got you y/n. You just have to be brave” Jimin whispers in your ear. 

You don’t know how to be brave. You thought three years was enough time to prepare yourself, to harden your heart to the fact that Jeon Jeongguk would never be a part of your life again. But maybe you never could move on. Maybe you will never be able to forget Jeongguk. Maybe you will never be strong enough to stand on your feet by yourself in front of him, and perhaps he will always be your greatest weakness. 

But he looks broken. 

As much as you did the day he let go of you without a second of hesitation. You can still remember the look of determination in his eyes, his set jaw, as he had looked away and without even a glance let you walk away from him. 

That should be enough to make all the panic go away. That should give way to anger. But all that serves to do is remind you of how much it hurt to let him go. 

“How have you been?” Jeongguk speaks but this time his voice shakes. 

You shudder. 

“I- I wanted to see you earlier but…” he trails off. 

You just have to be brave- Jimin’s voice rings in your head. 

“Let’s go Jimin” your voice is meek. Your action is anything but. 

Jimin nods and leads you, his hand still holding onto yours tightly as you begin to walk past Jeongguk. It feels slightly nostalgic--walking away from him all over again. 

“Y/n wait” Jeongguk is quick to catch a hold of your wrist just as you are passing by him. 

You’re tugged in both directions as both men hold onto your hands. You’re forced to stop and face Jeongguk. 

“You know you have some nerve Jeongguk” Jimin’s voice is firm as he grits his teeth.

“Stay out of it, Jimin. Please” Jeongguk stares intently at Jimin, but his tone isn’t hostile. 

Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s making her uncomfortable” Jimin bites back, hardly able to control his anger. It seeps through his words.

Jeongguk’s eyes shift focus to you and it’s clear as day that you are in fact uncomfortable. He notices the pained look in your face, the cloud of wispy breath fogging his view as you inhale sharply. He can see it in the way you’re avoiding him, the way your eyes are dancing around, restless and refusing to settle. 

He lets go and licks his lips. “I am sorry y/n” 

That gets your attention. It’s taken him three years to say that to you. “Sorry?” you scoff, anxiety and inhibition are forgotten as you meet his gaze.

“I know I was a dick to you-”

“You broke my heart Jeongguk. You broke--” you stop to gulp the tight knot down your throat. “You broke my heart to pieces and you didn’t even hesitate. Your ‘sorry’ won’t fix it” 

“I know. So tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it” 

“You can’t. I won’t make you feel guilty and tell you that you could have done it. I know you were in love. But were you so afraid of my feelings for you that you couldn’t even have listened to me? We could have been friends in the very least. I would have been fine with it” 

There is a pregnant pause. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter to the ground, and he chews on his lip in silence.

“I wouldn’t have been y/n” his gentle voice cuts through

“What?” 

“You’re right. The moment I found out you liked me, I freaked out. I realized something at that moment and it scared me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I thought the best thing would be for me to let you go. Then I saw Kira crying and I thought you guys got into a fight and it gave me a reason to let you go. Otherwise, I never would have” 

You feel Jimin looking at you through the periphery. You quickly glance at him. Jeongguk lifts his head to meet your gaze. 

“What scared you?” 

“The fact that I liked you. The realization that I had--have-- always liked you scared me. It terrified me because it was too real. I could see it in my head y/n-- being with you. It was easy to imagine but I have been a commitment-phobe my entire life. I just couldn’t bring myself to” 

You gulp hard. Your mouth is dry and in the cold January morning, your hand starts to sweat. You blink profusely at Jeongguk, unable to fathom his words. Jimin squeezes your hand, reassuring you, and reminding you to stay in the moment and not get swept away in the flood of your feelings. It grounds you and enables you to look a Jeongguk without feeling like you will lose your breath at any moment. 

“I am sorry Jeongguk. You’re a little too late” you spare him one moment of a glance before turning on your heels. 

“If you don’t hold me right now, I might just fall apart” his voice squeaks. 

You halt in your steps. You pivot on your heels and face him. He stands with his head hung low, soft muffled sounds escaping his mouth, and you can see a tear fall down his cheek. You quickly look at Jimin. 

“Y/n” he says warningly. 

But you nod your head in reassurance and he loosens his grip on your hand.  

“I’d never let you fall apart Jeongguk. Never” you say quietly as you stand on your toes and wrap your hands behind his shoulders in an embrace. A moment passes as he stands limply in your arms before you feel his hands squeezing around your waist. “I know what it’s like to fall apart and feel alone. I’d never wish that for you” you hug tighter, resting your chin against his shoulder. You can hear the sound of his tears hitting your jacket, and it breaks your heart too. 

A few beats of silence pass while you hold each other. You feel the heaviness that had weighed your heart down for three years melting away. Jeongguk sniffles and steps back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“So does that mean-” you can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“No” you say firmly, holding his hands into yours. “No Jeongguk. I won’t be able to this time” you shake your head and just like that the dull look is back in his eyes. “Look at what not being together did to us. Being together would destroy us. The possibility that it could go sideways at any moment would ruin both of us. I told you, I will not let that happen to you” your voice quivers. 

“Y/n…” 

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember Jeongguk. I still do and maybe I always will. But we can’t always have what we want, can we?” your lips curl into a faint smile. 

Jeongguk sighs heavily. Tears stream down his cheeks as they do yours. “No, we can’t” he replies, his fingers slipping through your hands. 

“Bye Jeongguk” you stand on your toes as you kiss his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. 

“Bye y/n” he whispers, closing his eyes. He hears your footsteps retreat. He feels the cold breeze of wind caressing his face. He opens his eyes. 

You’re gone. 

And he is alone. 

Let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading this!

[iamjungkooked]

Hold Me | JJk

↳Genre: Angst (literally that’s all this is)

↳Prompt: “If you don’t hold me right now, i might just fall apart”

↳Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Manipulation and betrayal

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Synopsis:

Jeongguk lets go of you. But when he comes back into your life for the briefest of moments he’s a little too late.

↳A/N: I am cross-posting this from my other blog! THIS IS NOT PLAGARIZED I’ve been gone for a while from this blog but since I wrote something I thought I should post it here as well. It’s something I wrote weeks ago for a friend. But I hope you guys all like it! 

{18 years of age}

Your heart thumps in your chest as everyone slowly gets picked into the teams. This is why you hated PE. You were usually the last one to be picked because everyone knew of your thorough incapability to play any kind of sports. It was common knowledge within your high school. So when you were forced to choose physical education as an elective to complete the required credits to graduate, you had no choice but to make yourself resilient to the fact that you would always be picked last.

It was worse because right now Jimin and Jeongguk were the captains of the dodgeball teams. As soon as he was chosen the captain of Team A Jimin had immediately looked to you and a sly smile tugged on his lips. You could see the wheels turning in his mind and you knew he was up to something.

So as you stand in the horrible PE attire you hope Jimin chooses you because the alternative will likely end up with you passing out. You can’t be in the same team as Jeon Jeongguk because you have a massive crush on him and every time you see him you feel like you will die. Some people call it being overdramatic but you call it being a teenager with no control over her emotions. You and Gus Isaacs are the only two people left as Jimin picks one of the guys from grade 12 into his team as his second-last pick. Not you, but someone else.

“Y/n”

You hear your name somewhere far in the distance but ignore the call and continue ruminating and chewing on your lip in the process.

“Y/n” you hear your name again, and this time it’s a bit clearer but you still ignore it and think you are probably hallucinating. Until Gus Isaacs elbows your side to bring you back to reality.

You wince in pain and hold onto the spot, giving Gus the evil eye as he motions towards the front. “Jeongguk chose you to be in his team”

You blink stupidly at him as if you can’t comprehend what he’s saying. You can’t. You hear the words ‘Jeongguk chose you to be in his team’ but they don’t connect right in your head. In fact they don’t connect at all so you miss the memo while the whole class gawks at you as you stare blankly at Gus.

“Y/n, do you wanna join the team?” Jeongguk asks firmly and with the usual confidence he carries.

In your repeated blinking state you turn to look ahead only to be subjected to a questioning look by Jeongguk.

Then your vision starts blurring and the last thing you remember is a heavy feeling taking over your limbs and someone shouting your name.

You awaken about an hour later in the school infirmary. You crack open an eye to find a boringly dull white ceiling gracing your view. You open your other eye and lower your gaze to find-

“Jeongguk?”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Why the fuck is Jeon Jeongguk here and not Jimin?

“I am fine” you strain as you try to get up. Jeongguk immediately places his hands on your elbows to help you sit up. You’re too wrapped up in your confusion to notice Jeongguk is touching you, otherwise, there would have been a reaction. “Where is Jimin?”

“He had to go to class and well someone needed to be here with you. So, I stayed”

“You don’t even know me” it’s a wonder you’re able to speak at all given that you fainted because of him. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffs in a non-condescending way. “I have had every class with you since grade 8. Of course, I know you. Plus Jimin never shuts up about you and how great you are”

“You know me?” your eyes widen

He rolls his eyes. “Stop treating me like I am some damn celebrity. Contrary to the popular belief I am not a jerk”

“But you are a celebrity” you mumble under your breath, sheepishly casting your gaze at your lap.

“What?” he squints his eyes at you.

“Nothing. You can go by the way. I am fine” you swing your legs over the bed and plant your feet firmly on the ground. You pull yourself up with effort but a light feeling runs through you and you wobble on your feet and fall back down on the tiny bed.

“Yeah. You’re totally fine” Jeongguk muses sarcastically as he steadies you. “The nurse said you should go home. I’ll take you. Come on”

Your muscles feel tight and you feel the tension in every limb. This is probably what your mom means when she says she’s had an arthritis flare-up. It’s definitely not a fun feeling. You can’t move a muscle as Jeongguk quietly waits for you to say something. This is the most surreal situation you have ever been in. The eighteen-year-old you, crazed by hormones and prone to fantasizing doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“I can go home by myself”

“Sure. If you want faint on the way and then get kidnapped by some random creepy dude. Go ahead. Eighteen-year-old girls are like a hot commodity for those psycho’s” Jeongguk says firmly, clearly trying to scare you into submission.

“What makes you think I won’t get kidnapped if you’re with me?” you question with a slight intention of teasing.

He looks scandalized as his nose scrunches and brows knit together so tightly you never thought it was possible for someone to be that offended. “Excuse me. Have you seen me?”

Yes of course, you have seen him. You’ve memorized his whole fucking face and embedded it so deep into your memory you made sure that even retrograde amnesia couldn’t get rid of it. You have been looking at him from afar for so long, you know every little thing about him.

“Just because you are slightly buff doesn’t mean you can help me”

“Wow” his jaw drops. “I have added weights to my routine so I am way stronger than I used to be. I could protect you”

“Spoken like a true teenage guy living on testosterone” you chuckle.

He rolls his eyes yet again. “So now that I have proven my point, can I take you home?”

“I’ll spare your ego” your lips pull into a grin which he echoes.

He wraps an arm around your waist and you stand firmly on the ground, waiting to feel stable before you begin walking. Jeongguk doesn’t let go eyes resting on your face as he watches you inhale slowly before nodding.

Your skin burns, every limb feels with fiery wrath the effect of his touch. Your mouth dries, throat completely parched. Your hands become clammy as you curl your fists into the sticky palm.

“Are you good?” he asks

You nod. “It’s alright. You can let go”

“And have you fall and then I get blamed for it? No way” he shakes his head, resolute.

You sigh. “Fine then. Walk me home” you say and you won’t lie that even just a little part of you is ecstatic.

“Gladly” he greets you with a grin when you look up at him. “Where is your locker?” he asks as you both step out of the infirmary and into the quiet hall.

“It’s okay. I can text Jimin to bring my stuff later”

“You and Jimin that close?” he sounds resigned about it.

“I thought Jimin talked about me” you question as you walk side by side, Jeongguk guiding you with his hand on the small of your back.

“He says you’re friends. But he never mentioned you were close enough for him to go to your house” Jeongguk explains, his previously cheery voice slightly deflated.

“That’s kinda hard to do when he lives just down the street and he loves my mom’s cooking” you press your lips into a thin smile.

“Ah” he nods in acknowledgement. “Is he just a friend or…” Jeongguk trails, not really needing to go any further because it is self-explanatory.

You reach the west side exit and step out into the cool spring afternoon with the sun shining brightly overhead. “Why are you so interested?” you cock a brow at him.

“No reason” he shrugs. “Just wanted to know if Jimin had a girl” he waves it off casually. “Anyway, so tell me something about yourself”

Your eyes narrow in confusion. “We’re making small talk now?”

“I didn’t mention the weather did I?” Jeongguk chuckles.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

He pouts, eyes squinting as he looks into the distance. He looks cute when pouts and he does that a lot. It’s creepy that you know this but when you’ve spent a better part of your high school life fantasizing over the guy it becomes second nature after a while.

“Tell me something Jimin doesn’t know” his eyes widen with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, that’s hard because I tell Jimin everything” you pause, trying to rack your brain for something you have never told Jimin.

“There has to be one thing” Jeongguk prompts.

Your lips just out as you try really hard to think.

Then it hits you.

“Don’t tell him but one time when we were younger he thought he lost his favourite toy. But really I took it from him and never told him about it”

“Wow. What a thief” Jeongguk teases with a laugh.

“He still talks about it and it’s so awkward” you shake your head, reminiscing about the time when Jimin has mentioned his missing action figurine.

“Why did you take it?” Jeongguk asks.

“The day before I took it, he went off to play with some of the other kids. I was mad that I had to play alone while he was having fun with them on the roundabout, and the swings and they were running around laughing. I felt abandoned so the next day I took it and pretended like he lost it”

“Remind me not to piss you off” he jokes, his hand which was resting on the small of your back, suddenly thrown over your shoulder.

You look down at his hand as it dangles over your shoulder. It’s awfully intimate for two people who have just met. But you shake your head because you can’t let these thoughts limit you and freeze you up. You’re finally talking to him and you’re having a good conversation. So you can’t jeopardize this because your body automatically reacts to his touch. That can’t be why you shoot yourself in the foot, so you maintain your calm by inhaling deeply and forcing your body to relax.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone” you look at him, noticing how he’s chewing on his lips looking into the distance.

He looks down at you with a soft smile. “I’ll tell you. I promise. When the time is right”

“How is that fair?” you pout.

“Wow child” he pinches your nose, wrinkling his own nose in a cute manner. He retracts his hand, letting it fall to his side.

“Fine. It’s not like I’ll die if I don’t know your deepest darkest secret”

It elicits a hearty laugh from him.

{20 years of age}

Jeongguk stands at your door, chewing on his lip as he tries to decide if he’s making the wrong move. But then he remembers he promised he’ll tell you something he hasn’t told anyone. Even if that was two years ago and he’s a little too late in keeping his promise he still needs to tell you. He doesn’t know where it’s going to head, or what exactly he’s going to say because you’re kind of his best friend and he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t care about you.

So with a deep inhale he knocks on the door and waits. He can hear the footsteps nearing and then the door opens to reveal you.

“Who invited you?” you joke, stepping aside and motioning for him to come in.

“I invited myself. I think I can come to my best friend’s house without an invitation. It’s kinda my right” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple before ridding himself of his shoes and walking down the hall and falling onto the couch.

You follow him with a shake of the head. After two years of being friends and then eventually best friends with him, you’ve made yourself five percent immune to his actions which border between platonic and romantic. You don’t think he realizes it because he always does things like holding your hand out of nowhere or kissing you on the forehead as a goodbye.

You collapse next to him, and like a reflex, he pulls you into him wrapping an arm around your shoulder, fingers stroking the soft flesh. “I ask again you’re here because…”

“I can’t come and see my best friend? I missed you” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes close momentarily as you cherish his touch because this is all you will get. This is as close you will be to being something more to him.

“You can. But you just saw me five hours ago and we hung out. Now you’re here and you’re…” you look up at him and place your index finger in the middle of his forehead. “Now you’re frowning which means you’re stuck”

“I am stuck?” he looks down at you, a soft crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

“I mean something is bothering you” you pull your finger away and rest your hand in your lap.

“How do you always know?” he smiles softly.

Yeah. How do you know?

Is it because you have loved the guy for so long or because you pay very careful attention to him? It’s not like you can tell him so you settle for-

“I just know. Now tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours” you tap his temple with your finger.

“Okay first, I am not big-headed. Secondly, I have something to tell you”

“Are you finally going to keep your promise from two years ago?” you shuffle your head so you can get a look at him. He’s lost in thought, a vacant expression holding his gaze away from you.

“I am kind of dating Kira” he lets out a shaky breath.

You pull yourself away, suddenly feeling cold all over. Your heart pounds against your chest, the rhythm thrumming so loud in your ears they start ringing. You swallow, looking into the eyes of this majestic man in front of you who has slipped from your fingers like sand. There is no hope now. He’s gone.

But worse than that he’s dating Kira. She’s the epitome of a mean girl. Even worse.

“Since when?” you whisper softly, feeling your heart shatter into pieces as each second passes by.

“Four months” he replies, not meeting your gaze. “I was going to tell you but I thought I’d wait until things get serious enough”

If there was ever any hope of recovering from this, it’s gone now. You can imagine yourself moping, and crying in the near future because you couldn’t tell him first how you felt. Maybe if you had given in to bravery instead of your fears you might have been the one dating him.

“Why?” your heartbreak echoes in your words. You don’t know if he can hear it. You’re not even mad that he kept it from you for months. You are so severely hurt you can’t even begin to feel angry about it. It feels hollow inside, like the place where your heart should be is empty. A cold chill runs down your spine as you stare into Jeongguk’s eyes– the ones that always feel like home– but now they feel like a strange abyss.

“Because she’s actually sweet. She’s nice”

You put your feelings aside for a moment because this is bigger than you. Just because you feel like you’re suffocating sitting next to him; just because it feels like the end and just because you feel like you’ll die doesn’t mean you’ll let him ruin himself. She’s wrong for him in ways he can’t see.

“Jeongguk. Listen, I know you think you like her. I know you think she’s nice but she’s not”

“Please y/n” he whispers, reaching for your hand and holding it in his. “Not you. You have to side with me on this”

“I want to. If this was someone else” your throat constricts even thinking about it. You swallow. “I would be completely happy for you. But Kira isn’t what you deserve. You deserve better. You deserve good and she’s not it”

Jeongguk’s hold on your hand slackens. “Just because you can’t see the good in her, doesn’t mean she isn’t”

You stare back at him, the way his jaw sets tightly, the way he’s trying so hard not to be angry at you. “I can’t. I can’t tell you what you want to hear. My job as your best friend is to save you not destroy you”

He pulls his hand away from yours and gets up. “Whatever,” he says. “I don’t need your approval. I just thought I should tell you”

“Jeongguk-”

“Bye y/n” his gaze lingers on you before he walks to the front door and leaves.

You didn’t think your friendship with Jeongguk was so fragile that it would fracture under the weight of his feelings for Kira. But since he’s actually avoiding you, you presumed wrong. He’s not been answering any of your texts or calls. He hasn’t visited you even once in the weeks after he admitted the truth to you.

He’s vanished from your life– like he never existed.

It leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach to know that he’s just decided not to be a part of your life anymore. You feel hurt, but more than feeling hurt you feel disappointed in yourself. Trust is a fickle thing. It’s earned through effort and broken without lifting a finger. Did Jeongguk not know that? Does he not understand that you want what is best for him? Can he really not see that you have always been on his side?

But how do you bring someone back from the edge when they have decided to take the fall?

“Missing your best friend?” Kira makes an unwanted appearance as your eyes focus back to reality. She’s got a sly smirk on her face.

You roll your eyes. “I am sure you got into his head”

“He’s not a plaything. He knows what’s right and wrong for him” she folds her arms across her chest.

“You got what you wanted. Fuck off now” you bite through clenched teeth as you gather your belongings, ready to leave. You’re almost out of the door when Kira speaks.

“He knows you like him.” she says in a condescending tone.

Your steps halt and so does your heart. You turn around. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower”

She shrugs. “Your perceptions of me are your problem. Not mine”

“A snake like you doesn’t deserve him”

She laughs with a roll of her eyes. “You think you deserve him?”

Your jaw sets tight as you glare at her. “I do. I deserve him because I’ve been with him through thick and thin. I’ve mended his broken heart, I’ve tended to him when he fell sick, I’ve put my life on hold to help him live his. So fuck yes I deserve him”

She quietly observes smirk still plastered to her lips like she’s incapable of expressing herself in any other way. But then the smirk falters and sets into a frown. “Y/n please don’t” she reaches for your hands, crushing them between hers on purpose.

“What?” your nose scrunches in confusion.

“Jeongguk is your best friend. Don’t leave him because of me” her eyes become glossy, furthering your confusion. “I’ll break up with him” a single tear escapes her eye.

“Wha-”

“Kira. Dont.” a firm voice draws your attention. You turn around to find Jeongguk glaring at you.

With quick strides, he stands between you and Kira and he tugs her hands out of yours.

“I know you don’t like her but I never thought you would try to go behind my back and try to sabotage my relationship” Jeongguk looks at you with such venom laced eyes it pulls at your heartstrings.

“What? I didn’t even-”

“It’s okay kookie” Kira sniffles leaning into his chest.

You gawk at her, blinking repeatedly at the scene in front of you.

“Wow” your brows knit together, jaw agape as you look at her completely mortified. “She’s lying” you turn to Jeongguk. His nostrils flare, chest heaving as he stares at you–clearly not believing you, his best fucking friend of two years. He takes the word a girl he’s known for a few months. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. His eyes say it all, the hatred with which he’s looking at you says it all.

“You know what Jeongguk, she’s changed you and you can’t even see it” your eyes sting with tears. You have so much to say but you bite your words because Jeongguk can’t see past his feelings.

“You just can’t see me happy because you like me” his voice cracks, and you can see the shine overcoming his eyes before he turns away.

Your heart sinks in your chest. It’s not what he’s saying. It’s the accusatory tone of his voice that hurts. “Well, congratulations Jeongguk. You don’t have to feel burdened by it anymore. Have a great fucking life” you bite.

Kira looks up at you, a smile quivering on her lips. She glances up at Jeongguk who’s looking away to the side and then turns to you as she lets herself smile. She’s won.

You turn on your heels and walk away from them– from the pain of it all because there is no point anymore. It’s like someone has driven a stake through your heart. It would have been better if that happened because the alternative is losing your best friend which hurts more than any pain that could be inflicted on you.

There is a sharp ache that settles in your chest as you walk away. But even as you do there is a tiny sliver of hope that he’ll call out your name and tell you to stay. Bit by bit it breaks as you step further away from him, until you are out of the door.

But you don’t hear his voice

{23 years of age}

You didn’t think you would ever get over Jeongguk. But Jimin helped you in ways you couldn’t imagine. He never took advantage of your vulnerable state, he never inserted himself in your life when you were at your weakest. He was just there, being your friend when you realized that somehow he had pieced your heart back together without even trying.

He never tried to get you to move on from Jeongguk. He knew you liked him– loved him rather. He was there for the drunken nights when all you could manage were sobs because your chest felt tight, and memories of Jeongguk would come rushing back in your inebriated state. Jimin’s silence spoke volumes and even through the haze you could see how much he cared as he would silently place your head on his shoulder and hold you close.

Since the day Jeongguk let you walk away from his life, Jimin has been there. He’s with you now, holding your hand, squeezing it tight as Jeongguk stands in front of you, puffy-eyed. Jimin slowly laces his fingers with yours, eyes never wavering from Jeongguk. The breath that has been caught in your throat finally releases and relief floods your chest. A slight ache settles deep somewhere, into far depths of your entire being and it begins to radiate until you feel a sharp stabbing sensation in your chest that has you squeezing Jimin’s hand like its your lifeline.

“Y/n” Jeongguk’s quiet and firm voice reverberates through the air as it reaches you

Pain forgotten, your eyes find purchase on the floor. You can feel your knees beginning to give out, a slight quiver indicating that you won’t be able to stand much longer. You are suddenly steadied on your feet. You look down at your waist to find a hand resting on your side.

“I’ve got you y/n. You just have to be brave” Jimin whispers in your ear.

You don’t know how to be brave. You thought three years was enough time to prepare yourself, to harden your heart to the fact that Jeon Jeongguk would never be a part of your life again. But maybe you never could move on. Maybe you will never be able to forget Jeongguk. Maybe you will never be strong enough to stand on your feet by yourself in front of him, and perhaps he will always be your greatest weakness.

But he looks broken.

As much as you did the day he let go of you without a second of hesitation. You can still remember the look of determination in his eyes, his set jaw, as he had looked away and without even a glance let you walk away from him.

That should be enough to make all the panic go away. That should give way to anger. But all that serves to do is remind you of how much it hurt to let him go.

“How have you been?” Jeongguk speaks but this time his voice shakes.

You shudder.

“I- I wanted to see you earlier but…” he trails off.

You just have to be brave- Jimin’s voice rings in your head.

“Let’s go Jimin” your voice is meek. Your action is anything but.

Jimin nods and leads you, his hand still holding onto yours tightly as you begin to walk past Jeongguk. It feels slightly nostalgic–walking away from him all over again.

“Y/n wait” Jeongguk is quick to catch a hold of your wrist just as you are passing by him.

You’re tugged in both directions as both men hold onto your hands. You’re forced to stop and face Jeongguk.

“You know you have some nerve Jeongguk” Jimin’s voice is firm as he grits his teeth.

“Stay out of it, Jimin. Please” Jeongguk stares intently at Jimin, but his tone isn’t hostile.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s making her uncomfortable” Jimin bites back, hardly able to control his anger. It seeps through his words.

Jeongguk’s eyes shift focus to you and it’s clear as day that you are in fact uncomfortable. He notices the pained look in your face, the cloud of wispy breath fogging his view as you inhale sharply. He can see it in the way you’re avoiding him, the way your eyes are dancing around, restless and refusing to settle.

He lets go and licks his lips. “I am sorry y/n”

That gets your attention. It’s taken him three years to say that to you. “Sorry?” you scoff, anxiety and inhibition are forgotten as you meet his gaze.

“I know I was a dick to you-”

“You broke my heart Jeongguk. You broke–” you stop to gulp the tight knot down your throat. “You broke my heart to pieces and you didn’t even hesitate. Your ‘sorry’ won’t fix it”

“I know. So tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it”

“You can’t. I won’t make you feel guilty and tell you that you could have done it. I know you were in love. But were you so afraid of my feelings for you that you couldn’t even have listened to me? We could have been friends in the very least. I would have been fine with it”

There is a pregnant pause. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter to the ground, and he chews on his lip in silence.

“I wouldn’t have been y/n” his gentle voice cuts through

“What?”

“You’re right. The moment I found out you liked me, I freaked out. I realized something at that moment and it scared me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I thought the best thing would be for me to let you go. Then I saw Kira crying and I thought you guys got into a fight and it gave me a reason to let you go. Otherwise, I never would have”

You feel Jimin looking at you through the periphery. You quickly glance at him. Jeongguk lifts his head to meet your gaze.

“What scared you?”

“The fact that I liked you. The realization that I had–have– always liked you scared me. It terrified me because it was too real. I could see it in my head y/n– being with you. It was easy to imagine but I have been a commitment-phobe my entire life. I just couldn’t bring myself to”

You gulp hard. Your mouth is dry and in the cold January morning, your hand starts to sweat. You blink profusely at Jeongguk, unable to fathom his words. Jimin squeezes your hand, reassuring you, and reminding you to stay in the moment and not get swept away in the flood of your feelings. It grounds you and enables you to look a Jeongguk without feeling like you will lose your breath at any moment.

“I am sorry Jeongguk. You’re a little too late” you spare him one moment of a glance before turning on your heels.

“If you don’t hold me right now, I might just fall apart” his voice squeaks.

You halt in your steps. You pivot on your heels and face him. He stands with his head hung low, soft muffled sounds escaping his mouth, and you can see a tear fall down his cheek. You quickly look at Jimin.

“Y/n” he says warningly.

But you nod your head in reassurance and he loosens his grip on your hand.  

“I’d never let you fall apart Jeongguk. Never” you say quietly as you stand on your toes and wrap your hands behind his shoulders in an embrace. A moment passes as he stands limply in your arms before you feel his hands squeezing around your waist. “I know what it’s like to fall apart and feel alone. I’d never wish that for you” you hug tighter, resting your chin against his shoulder. You can hear the sound of his tears hitting your jacket, and it breaks your heart too.

A few beats of silence pass while you hold each other. You feel the heaviness that had weighed your heart down for three years melting away. Jeongguk sniffles and steps back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“So does that mean-” you can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“No” you say firmly, holding his hands into yours. “No Jeongguk. I won’t be able to this time” you shake your head and just like that the dull look is back in his eyes. “Look at what not being together did to us. Being together would destroy us. The possibility that it could go sideways at any moment would ruin both of us. I told you, I will not let that happen to you” your voice quivers.

“Y/n…”

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember Jeongguk. I still do and maybe I always will. But we can’t always have what we want, can we?” your lips curl into a faint smile.

Jeongguk sighs heavily. Tears stream down his cheeks as they do yours. “No, we can’t” he replies, his fingers slipping through your hands.

“Bye Jeongguk” you stand on your toes as you kiss his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

“Bye y/n” he whispers, closing his eyes. He hears your footsteps retreat. He feels the cold breeze of wind caressing his face. He opens his eyes.

You’re gone.

And he is alone.

Let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading this!

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Summary: Toshinori struggles with your unfavorable opinion of his heroic alter-ego, but tries his hardest to impress you on a second date! Now… how do people date again?

4,537 words | SFW

“Wh-wh-what are you saying? You don’t like All Might?”

“I am just so tired of how everybody loves him! ‘I got the All Might special-edition action figure.’ ‘Well I got his autograph,’” you parrot in a mocking tone. “Whoop-de-friggen-doo. And he’s such an annoying showboat—like, I appreciate the crime he stops, but half the time he’s just striking a pose in front of news cameras shouting some dumb catchphrase. Go catch a bag guy and quit bragging about it! But you know what pisses me off most of all—all the swooning and fangirling. Why are so many women even into him?! All those beefy muscles are so ugly, he’s like an upside-down stack of potatoes! Who likes that?”

Toshinori is just staring, slack jawed, at you. Like you kicked his puppy.

“Sorry for going off like that, I shouldn’t tear apart something you obviously like.”

Is what you should have said.

Instead, you inhale, and, “Another thing! He’s not even edgy, or interesting—there’s no depth there, he’s just… all powerful and perfect? It’s so boring! All flash and no substance. If I was going to root for a hero, it’d be someone like Eraserhead. So dark and gruff, never putting himself in the spotlight, letting the work speak for itself.”

“I… I’ve gotta go.” He stands robotically and walks toward the door. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks.

“Wait!” you run after him and grab his arm. “I’m sorry. I was being mean. It’s just, All Might stuff is everywhere and it feels like I can’t escape it,” you laugh. “But if you’re a fan, that’s OK. I won’t make fun of him. I really am sorry.” He finally turns around to face you.

“I meant the phone call. I gotta go. Emergency.” He holds up the glowing screen.

“Oh.”

He smiles and pats you on the head. But he’s more subdued than he was a minute ago, and there’s a pain in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. He probably did take it really personally when you insulted his hero. Idiot.

“Do you really think All Might is ugly?” he asks quietly, gathering his things by the door. “There’s nothing appealing about him at all?”

“Like I said, you’re my type.”

He lets out a quiet, almost melancholy breath of a laugh. He turns to you, and wraps his long arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. It’s not a particularly passionate hug—his touch is so light, he’s barely making contact at all—but he’s tall enough to rest his chin on top of your head.

“You’re a strange one,” he whispers.

You close your eyes and breathe him in. He smells a lot like iron and convenience-store floor, actually, could be a lot more romantic. But you feel content so close to this scarecrow, with his soft bangs hanging down and brushing your skin. You almost let out a whine when he finally pulls away.

“So, will I see you again?” You ask, nervous about the answer. He couldn’t have been that serious about that All Might stuff, right? But if you chased him off, at this point, it might break your heart.

“Definitely.” A wide grin splits his whole face as he strikes a heroic pose. “My debating skills cannot be defeated! Next time, I’ll convince you All Might is the greatest hero!”

“Oh my god, get out of my house.”

 ****

Toshinori couldn’t believe it. Today of all days. First he wore himself out doing hero work in the morning. Then USJ was attacked and he pushed past his limit to rescue his students, nearly died, and once again reduced the amount of time he can remain in his muscle form. On top of all that, now, today of all days is when a couple of everyday bullies decide to hassle him.

He just had to go for a walk instead of getting a cab straight home. Had to stop to pick up medicine, even though it was already getting dark. Were such simple things really so hard for the number-one hero now?

He would laugh if it weren’t so pathetic.

It wasn’t like this had never happened before. Every once in awhile some delinquent singles him out, expecting a weak target, but even in his weak form, on a normal day, he would easily dodge and evade them, quickly diffusing the situation.

But today. Today he was done. He had already gone beyond what he had to give, and gone beyond that again, and he was out.

There were plenty of witnesses in the store, but nobody was going to stop to help, just pretending they couldn’t see. He was practically invisible in this form. Nobody cares what happens to some creepy, worn-down old man. It’s better this way, anyway. What kind of hero would he be if someone got hurt rescuing him?

This was really going to happen. He was really going to have his ass kicked by some random jerks. How had he fallen so low?

Then you appeared.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from putting yourself in danger: he could barely move. That kick caught him right in his weak spot, the old wound Nomu had already agitated earlier that day. A sickening, warm gurgling of fluids squished in his lungs, making each breath a battle against the encroaching darkness.

Run away. Just run away!

You obviously weren’t a hero, you didn’t have any training, that was clear in the way you carried yourself. But you were brave. Brave enough to piss those guys off. You just kept telling them off like you had no sense of self-preservation, until—he saw one of them about to throw a punch at you, and his nostrils flared in anger. He would have to—have to force himself to transform, no matter how it would hurt him, no matter how many people would see. He couldn’t let this happen—

Then you did something his pride would never have let him consider: you just started shrieking.

It worked. You saved yourself, and him, though it was even more humiliating than letting himself get beat up. There he was, suffocating on his own blood where anyone walking by could see what a helpless weakling he was… and now there was a girl bawling loudly on that same floor, drawing everyone’s attention to the intensely embarrassing scene.

Time to crawl into a hole and never show his face again?

He had to hand it to you though, you knew what you were doing. You forced all the silent spectators to admit they were paying attention—forced them to get involved. You had the heart of a hero, all right.

Everything after that seemed to happen so fast. Losing consciousness, learning that you had risked your well-being once again for him with your quirk. The shame he felt, seeing you suffering the same symptoms he was. Then suddenly, you were asking him out?

He was used to getting attention all the time in his muscle form, but in his true form, he was so invisible he could transform into All Might in public and nobody ever noticed. Like there was nobody standing there before All Might magically showed up.

His head swam dizzily when you said that he was your type. How could you be serious? But it seemed you were, even though he had been nothing but helpless. Even though you were coughing up blood because of him. What in the world were you seeing?

You were so boldly affectionate with him—though every time you did something unreserved, you started turning red and shaking, like you were acting with your heart before your head could talk you out of it. Even his hideous scar, and the frustrating health issues he doesn’t like to burden others with, you accepted without even a moment of disgust or fear. You reached out and touched it without thinking, and then blushed. It was so cute.

Being adored and praised as All Might was easy to brush off, but this? He had never had someone pressed against his body so affectionately as this drained husk. As the thing he was slowly becoming, permanently. There was at least one person who still saw him. He could get used to that feeling—that warmth in his chest. 

Then his phone rang—that custom ringtone he recorded himself! For a moment, he thought you were putting it together: the blond hair, two long bangs, the eyes, the voice.

But no, instead he got an even bigger shock. You don’t like All Might?!

How can he go out with someone who doesn’t like All Might? He is All Might!

Obnoxious? Ugly?? SHE PREFERS AIZAWA?!?!

Nope. That’s it. That is more than he can take.

But then there you were, pulling at his arm with those puppy-dog eyes, apologizing. You didn’t mean anything against him. You just didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He can’t blame you for having an opinion about a public figure. Even he had to admit his public persona could be a little… much.

He checked the caller before dismissing it. It was Nezu, so it probably was important. Not exactly a lie. It’s a shame to leave early, but he didn’t want you to know how shaken he was.

To be honest, he’s been starting to resent All Might a little, himself. He used to be that brawny, handsome hero, but now… now it’s just a mask he puts on. A flashy act for the crowds, and they eat it up, while his real self is overlooked and treated like a punching bag. Of course he resents it, just a little.

It’s actually kind of tickling that you prefer him this way. Pretty soon, it’s all he’ll be.

But he is All Might, too! If you only knew him better, you would realize how awesome he is! After all, All Might is the same person you had a wonderful evening with, laughing and watching movies—the same person you wanted a second date with. Yes, he’s sure you would like all of him if you got to know him! He’ll win you over!

 ****

“Next time, I’ll convince you,” he said. Next time.

After 15 minutes, you get a text from Toshinori’s number. “Oh good, did he make it home safely?” you wonder.

It’s a short essay about All Might.

Ping!

Another text from Toshi. Also about All Might.

Ping!

Did you know crime rates fell by over 20 percent since All Might debuted?

Ping!

His confident demeanor isn’t just showboating, it’s about instilling confidence in—

Ping!

Look at this video of All Might rescuing puppies! PUPPIES!!

You shake your head and laugh, a warm smile on your face. Hero fanatics may be annoying, but Toshi is kind of adorable. It’s so wide-eyed and innocent how much he loves—

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Yeah, never mind, it’s annoying. You text back a single message:

lol.

You can practically hear his internal screaming from across town. You snicker. He was right, you are a little devious.

*********************************************

Toshinori was as busy as he said he’d be. After the flurry of texts, it was over a week before you heard from him again. You thought he might want to watch the U.A. Sports Festival together, since he was such a fan of hero stuff (and All Might would be involved this year—eye roll), but he said he had too much to do.

You wondered if that was true, or if he could hear your eyes rolling through the text message. Maybe your snarky response to his hero obsession had spoiled things, and he’d keep on making excuses until you took the hint.

But a day later, he called back (yes, called—who does that?) and apologized so vehemently, you knew he meant what he’d said all along. He was just busy. But he was going to have some free time over the next week, and wants to see you again!

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of pink, white, and periwinkle flowers in his hands, wearing an oversized blazer and tie. It’s like he’d watched an old Fred Astaire movie to figure out what people on dates are supposed to look like.

“Aww, Toshinori!” you clasp your hands under your chin. “What did I say about marriage? You’re not here to propose, are you?”

He looks down at himself, then at your casual attire. “I overdid it, huh?”

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“I’ve been told it’s a problem of mine,” he scratches the back of his head, giving a lopsided grin.

“No, it’s adorable!” You take the flowers, brushing your fingers against his, and bury your nose in the fragrant petals. You look up at him with a sultry, playful gaze. “Though… I might need to change into something more formal now, or it’ll look like I hired you.” A fountain of blood shoots from his mouth.

You drop the bouquet and throw your arm under his shoulder in case he falls, the other hand instinctively placing itself over his scar, the source of his affliction. He jumps back with surprising agility, as if evading an attack.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t use your quirk on me again. I’m much better today—the bleeding is always going to happen, so don’t push yourself.”

You hold your hands up in surrender. “OK. I wasn’t going to. Probably. I definitely won’t now. It’s really a regular issue?”

He nods. “I’m sorry if it bothers you.”

“No, no, I was just curious.” You take his hand and lead him inside. He explains his condition, while you find a vase for the flowers. He takes off his jacket and tie, folding them over the arm of the couch. With just a white button-up, he immediately comes down to a more casual level, better matching your outfit. He throws his arms wide to ask, “What do you think?”

You think he looks slender and gorgeous, and just disheveled enough that you want to comb your fingers through his hair, and just dapper enough that you want to undo one more button.

“Perfect!” You throw finger guns at him, “Just a couple of slobs out for a date!”

 ****

Unfortunately, he has a reservation at a fancy restaurant. Very fancy. One of those places where the floors are marble and everyone wears black. Now you feel way under-dressed, and wish he’d warned you that’s why he was dressed so nice. You don’t even want to look at the prices on the menu.

You had hoped this date would be more exciting, considering the first one started with a brawl. That was a real ice-breaker. Here, the atmosphere is so quiet and formal, you’re almost afraid to speak, and a tense silence builds between you. Toshinori doesn’t seem to be having a great time either.

“You’re barely eating anything,” you note him lethargically picking at his plate. “Do you not like the food?”

“No, I just can’t eat much at once, so…”

“But the portions here are really big! Why would you want to come here?”

“It… seemed like the kind of place you’re supposed to go for a date!”

“Are you kidding?” you shout, half standing up from your seat, too loudly for the restaurant, whose more dignified customers glare and scoff. You sit back down and cover your face with your hand. And you just start laughing. A quiet chuckle at first, but soon you can’t even contain it, your shoulders wracking, and your head tossed back.

“Wh-what’s so funny?” Toshi looks scared.

“I hate it here!” you spurt out, still laughing. “This is the worst! It’s way too stuffy, and you can’t even eat the food.”

“I hate this place too! I just thought women like this sort of thing.”

You sputter and howl, slapping the table. “What are we even doing here?”

“We’re getting the bill!” He calls the waiter over, who is happy to shoo you ruffians out of the fine establishment.

 ****

Out in the fresh air and sunlight, you feel like you can finally talk to each other. He apologizes for being too old-fashioned, and, frankly, having no idea what he’s doing. You link arms, and decide to go for a stroll around the city, stopping at a street vendor for pork buns, which Toshi can eat one at a time at his own pace.

However, out in the city, All Might’s unsettling grin was inescapable, watching from every billboard and gift shop. It’s not long before Toshi starts on his favorite subject: prying into why you are the one person on earth who doesn’t adore him. You would be just as happy to let it go, but since he insists, you wind up in a heated back-and-forth.

“…and he’s always like ‘Detroit smash!’ ‘Texas smash!’ but it’s just a bunch of punches.”

“Th-that’s not true at all! Detroit Smash is when he punches downward to create a shockwave, and Texas Smash is when he punches so hard it blows villains away, and—”

“Yeah, that’s just a bunch of punches.”

Choking noises escape his throat. His entire world has been destroyed. Good job.

He hangs his head with a defeated sigh. “So, you really hate All Might.”

You squeeze his arm. It hurts to see him so down, even though it’s silly that he cares so much. “It’s not that I hate him. At the end of the day, I’m glad he’s running around saving lives. The problem is hero culture in general. There’s so much focus on their ‘brand,’ on their market value. I guess I can’t even blame individual heroes for grandstanding, considering their income depends on their popularity, but honestly—they’re public servants, the same as the police. Did you know the police are still responsible for stopping more crimes than heroes, when you take into account all the non-quirk-related crimes they handle, and the detective work used to locate villains in the first place? But you don’t see their faces all over posters, and commercials, and t-shirts!” You point your finger in a random direction, and it lands on a perfume ad in a store window with Uwabami’s face. Amazing, not All Might this time.

“And your hero All Might is the worst one, with that dumb flashy smile, and big inspiring speeches, like he’s gotta make sure everyone knows he’s the greatest.”

Toshinori has been listening silently this whole time, deep in thought. From the solemn frown he was wearing, it seemed some of what you said hit home. But at that last part, he raises his piercing blue eyes to yours.

“You’re wrong… All Might’s smile isn’t about his own ego. He smiles so that people in trouble know everything will be OK. So they don’t feel scared. As long as the hero is still smiling, you know he’s going to win in the end. Being the symbol of peace isn’t about him, it’s about giving the world hope!”

Your heart flutters. It’s not so much the words he said—you’d heard the same line a million times—but the fire in his voice as he said it. Naive as they may be, you can’t help but admire his convictions.

He catches the smile in your eyes, and gives you the biggest, doofiest, triumphant grin. You try to think of something cynical to say to burst that bubble of optimism. You can think of a few: People shouldn’t be symbols, they should be people. That smile is so forced; it’s obvious he’s hiding pain, and you’d rather face the honest truth, no matter how hard, than have hope that’s a lie.

Eh. Maybe you’d tell him later. Right now, you just want him to keep smiling.

“I know!” He rubs his hands together. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you—this way.”

“You cannot take me to a hero museum for a date!” you grimace.

He laughs, grabbing your hand and leading you, “Don’t worry, it’ll be good!”

 ****

The sun is orange in the sky over the ocean, painting the clouds with striking purple and yellow streaks reflected in the waves below. A warm breeze blows your hair back, ruffling Toshinori’s long bangs, and swaying the spiky parts like a field of barley.

“Wow,” you breathe, leaning over the railing of the boardwalk. He leans next to you.

“Better than the restaurant, huh?” he nudges you with his elbow.

“You could’ve at least chosen one of those fancy restaurants where the dishes are tiny, instead of a place you couldn’t eat!”

“Yeah, I really bungled this date thing,” he laughs, hand on his forehead.

How soft would his hair would feel if you twined your fingers through it right now, you wonder? The urge to grab him, and smash your lips against his coils inside you like a spring. But… you’re not sure if he would want that. He’s just so cute!

He offers his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, tipping his head at you. You take it, and stroll together down the steps into the sand and along the beach, the sounds of crashing waves and sea birds like music around you.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago. This was never publicized, but it was cleaned up by an aspiring hero who was inspired by All Might. Not everything heroes do is for fame and glory. Sometimes it’s just about helping the community.”

“Then how did you find out about it?”

He blanches. “Huh?”

“If it was never publicized, then how do you know who did it?”

A bright red river ejects from his lips, and he doubles over, hacking. That’s one way to change the subject. You rub his back as he recovers, but instead of helping him relax, he grows rigid and more on-edge.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. You have no idea how much it hurts to see you in pain because of me. Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I…” You almost swear you weren’t going to. That you won’t, ever again. But… “No. I wish I could tell you that, so you can relax around me and not worry, but I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep. If you passed out again, or if you were suffering in unbearable agony, if… if you were dying… I would use my power, with or without your permission. There’s no way I could let you die, not if I can do something about it.”

“Young lady…” he purrs, stepping in closer, “I like your spirit, but… I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. I don’t want anybody else putting themselves through hell trying to be a hero for me.”

There’s a tug on your heart, and before you can stop yourself, you’re up on your toes, hands around his neck, your lips on his. He breathes in, frozen for an agonizing moment. You pull away, bright red, stammering apologies. Then his palm is cupping your jawline, thumb tracing tender circles over your hot cheek. He lowers his forehead, knocking it gently against yours, the side of your nose rubbing against his. His breath, so close, catching. Your eyes close. He angles his head, and kisses you back.

Eventually, you pull away, breathless. Your hands grip his narrow shoulders. “Listen. I appreciate you not wanting me to hurt myself for you. But you can trust me. If I decide to take some of your pain away, it’s because I decided to—get it?”

His face says he doesn’t. You pick up a seashell and toss it into the waves.

“Let me explain. The person this quirk is most dangerous to is its user. The hardest lesson to learn about it is how to say no.

“I was young when All Might debuted, and I loved him back then. His whole noble hero thing—always putting others first, always answering a cry for help, no matter how much danger he was in—I admired it. I wanted to be like that. And when other kids learned that my quirk could take away their scraped knees and bruised elbows, I was in high demand. I don’t think they meant to be selfish—they probably thought I was more resilient to pain as part of my quirk, but I just wanted to smile through it like that dumb bastard on TV. So I just kept taking, and smiling, until I was hooked up to machinery in a hospital bed for two weeks, barely hanging on.”

He grabs onto your hand and squeezes, almost so hard that it hurts. A pained look etches his face. “I’m sorry, I never meant for…”

“Calm down, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you laugh.

He flinches.

“I don’t blame All Might, either. It was my own stupid mistake. That’s how I learned you don’t emulate heroes! Noble sacrifice isn’t. That. Noble.” You poke his chest with your index finger to punctuate each word. “When you have something to offer the world, it’s important to know your limits, and to set boundaries. Because once people learn you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, they’ll take, and take until there’s nothing left.”

Toshinori touches his scar reflexively, fingers spreading protectively, pensively over the destroyed flesh. Then his hand clenches into a fist. “I understand… but still… if someone’s life is at risk, I can’t sit around and do nothing. Someone has to stand up and help, even if it’s dangerous. Someone has to be a hero, so everyone else can live happy lives!”

A smile spreads slowly across your lips. Partly a smile of admiration, from the vestiges of your youthful heart that still loves heroes… and partly the sly smile of a villain just before they dive into a victorious monologue.

“You’re right. That’s why I can’t do nothing if I see you in real trouble. If I decide to use my quirk to ease your pain, it’s not because you asked me to, or because I feel obligated. It’s because I want to. It’s because I weighed the risks, and decided. It hurts me to see you in pain, too, you know.”

His lower lip trembles. Before you know what’s happening, his hand is circling your waist, pulling your hips against his narrow ones, his mouth on yours. His lips are thin and chapped, but warm, making up for their lack of substance by softly giving way as you press against them, parting against yours. You let out a muffled moan. Your hands run over his back, exploring every jagged vertebrae and defined shoulder muscle hidden under his baggy dress shirt, finally coming to rest at the base of his neck, stroking the edge of that soft yellow hair you had longed to feel.

“Are you… using your quirk?” he pants.

“No.”

“Ah. Then this just feels really good.” He holds you tighter.

[tejoxys]

From the works-in-progress meme... I am intrigued by "dat one fight" and "babysitting brigade". Tell me more!

Ohohoho yes, these are two of my favorite parts in that entire longfic, thank you. It’s going to take me 84 years to get to them naturally even if I start actively writing again, so I’ll give them extra space here.

> dat one fight

I spent a ridiculously long time on this. It’s 72KB, when all five chapters that have been posted to AO3 so far only total 110KB. 

This is far enough along in the timeline that Pitch is still incarcerated in the Whiny Baby Immortal Jail that Jack built for him, but they’ve reached an understanding and have become friendly. They express this through fighting. Also Jack is keeping Pitch alive by encouraging him to feed on his fears like a vampire. Also there’s clear mutual interest that Jack has been studiously ignoring for every reason possible. Also some shit went down the last time Jack visited Pitch, which they haven’t talked about. Also Jack’s powers keep expanding, and he’s freaking out about that. Also Jamie, now 17, is into Jack, and decided to express this one scene earlier, and Jack is freaking out about that, too. The best course of action here, obviously, is to go spend more time with Pitch (???!!).

Somehow, this results in the discovery of a kink.

This fic... had some Stuff going on in it for me, psychologically. Some of it had to do with my feelings about fandom-typical blackice dynamics, a lot of which was triggering for me (no judgment on anyone; I just couldn’t go there, and felt isolated in the fandom because of it), and some of it was even more personal. I gave a lot of my issues at the time to Jack, and this scene, more than any other, exemplified that.

Here’s where they’re getting things going so Pitch can feed.

     He slowly raised his arm to curl around Pitch’s back. Softly, hesitantly, he touched the scar he’d found.        

     Fear flared to life, sparking in his fingers and along the muscles of his arms. Jack imagined the doors in his heart opening to it, fear flowing like blood. To have such weakness presented to him, to feel the same disturbing drive to press on it that he’d felt in a different form the other day, to know the only reason he didn’t was because he held himself in check—it was awful. Hand shaking a little, Jack smoothed his palm across the fabric. Hair tickled the opposite side of his face. Pitch had gone rigid again. Without thinking about it, Jack reached his other hand up to guide Pitch’s head down to his shoulder. “It’s all right, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m only doing this to help me focus.”    

     A sough of fingernails on the floor told Jack that Pitch had unclenched his hands. His dark head rested heavily on Jack’s shoulder. “It should grate me that you’re more frightened of yourself than you are of me,” Pitch said, “but… your fear makes a compelling argument.”

    “It does?”

    “You no longer know your own limits, in several respects at once. Your turmoil right now is only one more expression of that underlying fear.”

    “I thought I had come to terms with it,” Jack admitted. “I thought, well, hey, all I have to do is not slip up. That’s not so bad. But then…” He gulped, remembering his panic as he shouted at Pitch, You don’t understand—I almost went for your eyes!

    “Then you found that there are other ways to slip. Worse ways. What’s that phrase the kids came up with—‘accidentally-on-purpose’?” Pitch’s soft voice slid over him like a veil. “There are too many ways to hurt someone accidentally, and too many ways to make it look like an accident. If I hit a nerve during this talk—and I will—and your fears move your fingers to dig into my scar, could you claim that you didn’t mean it, that you involuntarily defended yourself? You could. But you would know better. Now, tell me it’s not the same when you’re with everybody else.”

    Jack kept his hand on the scar, rubbing slow, calming circles. “People give themselves to me,” he said softly. “The other Guardians, now that they’ve accepted me… they share things with me. They really care about me. And if I had to, I know exactly what I’d do to hurt each one of them the most. ‘If I had to.’ –What does that even mean? I don’t want to think that way. I just can’t stop.” His voice broke. “Why is this happening?”

> babysitting brigade

This is a set of scenes from an even later chapter, after Pitch has been released on probation, Jack and Jamie have dated and recently broken up, and Jack, trying to be a better person and stop leaning on Pitch for emotional support when he knows how Pitch feels about him, finally came out to the other Guardians about his relationship with Jamie. Unfortunately, instead of being a relief to Pitch, Pitch had valued being Jack’s sole confidante so much that he flipped his shit and told Jack to leave him alone indefinitely. Jack is respecting that, because he’s, again, trying to be better for Pitch. It’s extra great because Jamie doesn’t want to see Jack either, so Jack’s basically lost both his closest friends at the same time.

I should mention that one of my goals in writing this fic was to let characters mess up.

Anyway, this chapter has been published on tumblr once before! I put it up on its own as part of a blacksand week, actually, because of what starts to happen between Pitch and Sandy. It can be found here [x].

However! Tooth’s part in this chapter—actually my favorite part, there’s a really good screaming match and a panic attack in it (Pitch’s)—was cut out because it was too long for my purposes at that time. So, here’s some of that, right before it goes south.

(Note: Pitch “sees” fear almost as a form of light, kind of like sharks see electrical fields.)

    Toothiana’s smile faded into something almost genuine. “I suppose the rumors were true, then,” she said. “He actually means something to you.”

    Pitch’s mood flatlined instantly. “What do you know about it?”

    “Next to nothing! …Only what Sandy told Aster told me. Say, what’s that around your neck? Is the truce back on?”

    “Oh. No. Not you, too.” Pitch would have said more, but something about the way Toothiana kept angling her head was making him uneasy. He took a few steps back. She followed. “What are you doing?” he ventured, and he saw it. Oh no. She was trying to get a better look at his teeth.

    He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop it!”

    She blinked. “What? Oh! Was I..?”

    “Yes, you were!”

    “Oh. Sorry.” She hovered there, still half-smiling, and he felt her gaze like a hundred little knives, not cutting, only… crawling. “I found one of your teeth,” she said abruptly.

    The crawling sensation intensified. “Really.”

    “I, uh, took a look, and… well…”

    “How dare you?” Pitch lunged. Toothiana squeaked and zipped away, only to stop a short distance above his head. Pitch recoiled, enraged that she wasn’t even frightened enough to flee. Meanwhile, his own fear crept higher, blurring his sight. “Is nothing private from you people?”

    “I was doing my job!” she shot back, hand on her chest. “I thought you might be interested to know what’s in there!”

    “Well, I’m not!”

    “Well, you should be.”

    “Why, you meddling—”

    “What? Meddling what?” Toothiana put her hands on her hips. “First you’ll do anything to get everyone’s attention, and now that we’re all looking at you, you want us to stop? Do you think any part of this is easy? Do you think I want to be here?”

    “If it makes Jack happy,” Pitch sneered. The little flashes had begun, lighting him from the inside, and he was losing her shape in the static. She gave the tiniest flinch at his words, the tiniest thread illuminating itself.

He pulled.

[tarithenurse]

Valentine’s Fool

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!reader Content: All the Fake Dating tropes as well as smut (don’t be a fool, wrap the tool), and some fluff. And cussing. A/N: I never celebrate Valentines, but that shouldn’t stop a good one-shot. Enjoy! 

I should have known it would backfire! Stomping back and forth in the cramped space of the elevator, you barely notice the door opening let alone whoever you march past (accidentally shouldering them) when you hurry to get out before it is too late. Crapcrapcrap.

The hallway is comparable with a long tunnel without discerning details – a fact you logically know not to be true. The boom of the door to your quarters closing is reduced to a soft thud…unfortunately echoed moments later when Sam bursts in.

…   Flashback   …

”ExCUSE ME?!” The words were hurled at you echoing through the kitchen.

Rounding on him, your fists were balled tightly. ”Excuse you? Excuse YOU?” At least he backed up a tiny bit. ”You want me to pretend to be your DATE?! No. Scratch that…your part of a DOUBLE date?”

Having been friends for half a decade, it should not have come as a surprise that Sam had talked himself right into trouble of the most embarrassing kind. Steve, Bucky and you had saved his ass more than once though he rarely got any of you involved before giving some kind of warning. So yeah, of course there was more to it. It was obvious the moment he shuffled the feet, suddenly more interested in the floor than the argument.

“Well…” he mumbled, “I might’ve told my coisin we’re…steady.”

“And then y’wonder why’m NOT won over by the promise of CAKE?”

“It’s the b–“

“I DON’T CARE what sorta cake it is!”

He still managed to slip out “triple-brownie caramel”, and while you might not have cared, your stomach was certainly paying attention all of a sudden. Should’ve had a snack after training. He sensed the shift within you –used to dealing with two super soldier’s food urges – gently nudging the flaring cravings by describing every single detail until drool started to fill your mouth faster than you wanted to swallow.

In the end, he managed to convince you after promising to owing all of two favours – no questions asked.

…

You arrived early on Valetine’s day, bringing a backpack full of random personal belongings and a few real and photoshopped pictures: all of it a part of the elaborate cover story that you, idiotically, had accepted to adhere to. In some twisted way, that was the easiest part because of the many missions in the name of the Avengers. This is too personal, but you would be damned if you gave up now and let down Sam…and miss out on the cake.

…

Everything was pretty much perfect with the setup making the two of you look like a couple sharing places randomly but often, and of course Sam’s cousin (Kaylah) was brilliant and her girlfriend funny. What could have been a tedious evening evolved into something closer to second nature with the only difference being the physical proximity of Sam though small touches and handholding.

There was nothing strange about it, actually. You got physical with Sam (and other Avengers) on a daily basis due to sparring, and movie nights often included semi-wrestling for the good spot on the couch (plus if the movie was boring, people would fall asleep more or less on each other).

“Jeez,” Kaylah admonished Sam, quickly stealing the glass with the last bit of white wine from him and passing it to you, “you gotta learn to share, man.”

Agreeing with her, you winked at the wineless guy. “That’s what I try to tell him…but really he ain’t all bad.”

“Bloody hope not! I taught him ev’rythin’ about datin’ and stuff.”

Kaylah’s girlfriend turned around with terror on her face, making you sober up until: “Oh, I’m so so sorry, sweetie [Y/N]! How did y’ever get this far??”

“Haar haar!” The couple bickered lovingly back and forth, while you enjoyed a chance to usher Sam to the kitchen for more to drink for all of you.

Yes, no hitches in the plan.

Not until Sam (tailed by his cousin) had to squeeze past you in the kitchen, his fingers curling around your hipbone…and it ignited something within, making you sigh a little to audibly. Next thing you knew, the two other women were peeking around the corner (“discreetly”, according to their wine-laced minds) to spy on Sam kissing you.

It was not that you had to kiss to keep a cover. It was not even the fact that it was Sam Freaking Wilson, one of your best friends.

No.

The thing that caught you by surprise was how right it felt as the pretend kiss developed, drawing him closer to you or vice versa. Your little moan, which he swallowed so neatly, did not even register until he pulled away with that soft look in his eyes.

 …   Now   …

“What’s goin’ on? All rest of th’evenin’ t’was like Antarctica sittin’ next to ya! Gotta talk to me, sugar.” The nickname is far from strategic unless his hope is to shut you up instead.

You recover from fish-mode, finding the use of your voice once more. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it’d be better to cool things down b’fore your cous’ dared you to go further!”

I’m behaving like a teenager! But the little logical voice in your mind is drowned out by the turmoil that is making your knees weak and pushing your heart to beat like you have run a mile. Sam is your friend. He has been for ages and has never ever made a move to indicate that he would be interested in more than a platonic relationship, so it is uncalled for that your body or hormones suddenly want more. Need to get my head straight.

Where you cannot think, the man before you seems plenty capable of it. “Yeah. She dared me…didn’t hear ya complain, though.”

“Wh-…that’s a low blow even for you, Wilson.”

“Maybe, but tell me I’m wrong, then,” he insists, confidently stepping closer, “tell me ya didn’t feel anythin’…t’was just me?”

He has got you against the window, but you are still searching for an answer when his words register with you, playing on a loop until it is certain you heard right.

It is like seeing him in a new light, finally unveiled with every subtle detail on display: the slight gap between the front teeth which is nothing short of perfection because it adds a boyish charm to his smiles; the searching flicker in those warm, dark eyes boring into your soul.

“C’mon, babe…I didn’t just ask ya to help me ‘cause ya like cake…”

“…was a good cake…”

“I can get ya somethin’ better if you’ll let me.”

Hot hands have found yours, skin caressing skin and sending little sparks of comfort with the rush of blood to nestle in your chest, and though your heart still is galloping it is not because of anger anymore. Sam is a hair’s width away. You can smell the coffee on his breath that he had with the triple-brownie caramel cake – both dessert and lips delicious as sin according to your experience. It is impossible to glance at the lopsided smirk and not want to enjoy the gentle greed of his mouth in action one more time.

You do not know when you began nibbling on your lower lip, you just know that he pulls it free from your teeth with the soft brush of a thumb before holding you close enough to feel his heartbeat mix with your own. Wild and passionate. In contrast, the kiss is hesitant as if he is afraid of rejection even now. Or to give me a chance to back out? There is no going back. The bridge is crossed and ablaze, and you are ready to dance in the scorching heat.

“Don’t hold back, please,” you mumble against his lips, moulding against him with a firm grip of his neck and a satisfying squeeze to his butt. What an ass!

As the dam finally bursts, any and all indecision are swept away to make room for pure lust. Sam’s hands are everywhere though favouring your hips in an effort to create friction between your pelvises where an increasingly prominent bulge calls for attention without getting any. Not yet. You are both too busy exploring the reactions conjured by increasingly slobby kisses anywhere with access to skin – so caught up that you barely register when Sam moves you until your calves hit the bed and you tumble onto it. He is out of breath (just like you) with swollen lips and heavy lidded eyes that only let go of you the few seconds it takes to pull the shirt over his head.

Hot damn.

Oh, you have seen him shirtless before and even admitted to yourself then how good looking he is. Gorgeous and off limits – just like all your teammates. Knowing that this time Sam is all yours to touch and adore? It is overwhelming and sends sweet waves of heated impatience to your core. Sitting up, he is only out of reach until grabby hands and a pout has done the job to bring him to stand between your knees.

Rapid fingers manage to make short work of the belt and zipper before he stops you. The roguish charm will be the end of you some day, but you feel more alive than ever as he takes over and removes your shirt before his jeans. A quick lift and shove sends you properly sprawled out on the bed and you obediently lift your hips so he can pull down the skirt and pantyhose in one go.

“Daymn, your sexy too!”

“Is that your way of fishing for a compliment, Wilson?”

Surprise flickers before laughter takes over. “Feel free to shower me with ya sweet words…but I did mean you.” Sam has taken to kiss and caress his way up your legs, giving you a generous view to the flex of his back muscles. “Smart,” he punctuates with a soft bite to the inner thigh, “funny,” once more he pauses, “strong,” this time he has reached the fabric of your underwear and kisses your pussy through it, “everythin’…and fuckin’ gorgeous too.”

The heat, which has been centered around your core, spreads to your face at the sound of the adoring words. Any reciprocating compliment is halted as Sam surges up to reclaim your lips, and amidst dazzling tongue action and teasing bites he tells you, no…begs you, to just accept the praises because “this is all about you, sugar”.

Your friend/lover/partner/boyfriend takes his time to explore all of your body and remove the last bit of clothing, turning you lazily around to trace the length of your spine or seat you in his lap while his cock nestles between the folds until you moan in delirious anticipation. By the time he finally aligns with your craving pussy, Sam hands have massaged their right into every cell of you – traced it onto your clit with his tongue.

“Yeah?” It is a whisper against your throat.

“Yes,” you confirm, already anchored to him with bruising grips. Oh, yes please!

With all of his attention tuned in to your reactions, the gentle lover eases his cock in as he takes time for both of you to adjust before the game of learning continues. Each of you chase the keening sounds of the other as bodies find a common rhythm and soon, surprisingly so, the coil in your core snaps to release waves of pleasure.

A guttural groan escapes Sam, “Oh, fu-uck!” You can barely feel through your own high how he stutters, face buried in the crook of your shoulder. “Damn, princess…”

When he resurfaces to meet your gaze moments later, you can see a hint of chagrin in his eyes.

“You’re amazing!” You do not give him time to protest. “It’s hard to ‘magine round two’s going to be even better now the pent up need’s blown.”

Sam’s crooked smirk is back in a second. “I’m sure we can beat all records, sugar.”

[lovelahela]

❛ it lives in the woods ❜ ─ prologue

⇢ masterlist ; check masterlist for fancast!

⇢ pairing: noah marshall x f!mc (marisol reyes)

⇢ genre: horror

⇢ chapter: zero (prologue)

⇢ words: 2687

⇢ description: something old and powerful lives in the woods surrounding the small town of westchester... something that knows their names. tensions flare, old wounds are reopened, and lives hang in the balance of one, very important question: are you scared?

⇢ notes + warning: this story will include disturbing scenes, potentially dark/triggering subjects (including but not limited to underage substance/alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety) and strong language. reader discretion is advised.

        Tonight, the moon is playing peek-a-boo, weaving in and out of ribbons of black clouds scudding across the sky. Accompanying the flickering radiance of lampposts scattered across the small town of Westchester, the light of the moon stretched across the vast cluster of trees that surrounded it and to a cosy, modern house far away from said lampposts that stood out significantly next to the worn-out, withering shack that stood meters away from it. The town was characteristically quiet, its folk invested in whatever dream of winning the lottery and marrying the most good-looking Hollywood actor they were having. It was almost peaceful.

        The functioning word here being almost.

        Inside that modern little house lay a young teenage girl, fast asleep in the comfort of her mattress and scented candles. Marisol Reyes tried very hard to be normal, thank you very much. She ran two clubs, maintained outstanding grades, and managed Westchester High's successful swimming team as an efficient captain. Some might even say she was one of the "popular kids," but she was no where near that (proven by the constant degradation courtesy of Britney and her posse), and preferred to keep it that way. All Marisol wanted was to blend, to be away from the spotlight - she had enough of it after being drowned in all the wrong kinds of attention when one of her best friends perished a decade ago. Being pointed at by judgemental kids and gossiping parents took a toll on her, and she swore to go out of her way to erase the devastating, untimely death of Jane Marshall from her life - she would never be the "best friend of that girl who died" ever again.

        Although Marisol strongly refused her mother Soledad's advice to see a child psychologist and cope with the horrible trauma that cost her her childhood, she insisted that she was able to, get over it. She pushed aside the recurrent nightmares and the obsession with self-defense and martial arts classes, plastered on a smile, and said she was fine - every single time, all through the ten years of looking over shoulder and denying just how damaged she really was.

        The sound of violent vibrations against a wooden surface startled Marisol Reyes out of her uncharacteristically peaceful slumber. She jumped out of her bed and grabbed the kitchen knife that always lied stoically on her bedside table like a war veteran, hair frazzled and muscles tense. The focus of her almond-shaped eyes darted around the room frantically, fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Once she could not make out an outline of an intruder in the darkness that enveloped the area, she realized the vibrations were coming from her phone, buzzing enthusiastically with text notifications. She groaned at her overreaction to such a harmless event while rubbing the sleep from her eyes and picked up the small electronic device in her tense hands.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:12 AM

UNKNOWN NUMBER

marisol, you there?

it's dan.

i messed up. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry

Mark as spam?

Block number?

        "Oh my God..." whispered Marisol, rereading that one text over and over again to make sure she didn't imagine it.

        it's dan.

        Those two words stole the breath and heat from her very skin. Suddenly her defenses are like paper, paper being soaked by rapidly falling rain drops. Dan Pierce. They hadn't spoken since the tragic incident a decade prior - after the funeral, the eight children went their separate ways, determined carry the truth behind that catastrophe with them to the grave no matter how deep they buried it inside of them. She debated replying - she hadn't so much as greeted him in so many years, and suddenly he bombards her phone with frantic messages in the middle of the night? Something seemed off. Marisol could practically feel danger creeping up slowly but surely behind her.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:15 AM

DAN PIERCE

marisol?

MARISOL

dan, hey.

it's been a while, u okay? what's up?

DAN PIERCE

i went into the woods.

i had to be sure, i had to prove to myself that he wasn't real.

that it was all in our heads.

but he is, mari. he's real. it was all real.

read 3:16 AM

        Marisol's previously tense hands began shivering vigorously along with the rest of her limbs, all of them weakening by the second. She closed her eyes and drew in long, deep breaths, attempting to calm down and muster up whatever courage she had left. She wasn't sure if the texts she responded with were an attempt to convince Dan, or herself.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:17 AM

MARISOL

hey man, u sure ure not drunk?

DAN PIERCE

he was whispering, just like when we were kids.

MARISOL

dan, please stop.

we made all that stuff up, we were kids.

mr red was just a dumb game that spun out of control.

we made it all up.

DAN PIERCE

 he does. he's with me right now.

MARISOL

for fuck's sake dan

if ure in the woods get out NOW

it's not safe in the dark

DAN PIERCE

i can hear him in the trees.

i can hear him whispering...

read 3:18 AM

        Marisol hissed a long string of curse words, fumbling around in the dark for her jacket. It didn't matter that they lost touch with each other, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him - of losing someone else in the disbanded group that she once would have said she trusted with her life. Maybe, if you dug deep enough through the traumatic, emotional baggage she lugged around every waking moment, she still would.

        Just as she snatched the keys to her mother's car (which she was only allowed to use in the case of an emergency, much to her dismay), someone rapped the window harshly, startling a shriek out of her. Her phone slipped out of her hands and landed on the wooden floorboard with an upsetting thud, just barely illuminating the room with a disturbing glow.

        With the manner of a paranoid animal about to get preyed on viciously, Marisol snuck a peek at the window. Her blood ran cold when she made out the shape of what she was hoping was a human. Wasting no time, she jumped towards her lamp and turned it on. A yellow light filled just enough of the vicinity - enough to see that the man waiting outside her window was none other than Dan. She heaved out a relieved sigh and opened the window  (reluctantly so), ushering him inside outside of the chilly embrace of the crisp night.

        He climbed into his former friend's bedroom, hoodie dirtied by mud and hints of dead leaves. His long hair was unkempt, his eyes were accompanied by worrying and prominent bruises under them, and what used to be his beautifully tanned skin was then pale and sickly as though he was near death itself. Dan sat hunched over on the floor like a frail puppet being held up by a single fraying string. It was horribly peculiar to see him like this - he always held himself with confidence, tall and muscular frame towering over even those taller than him. To see him lying on her floor, so vulnerable and beaten down, it was heartbreaking to say the least.

        "God, Dan, what happened to you?" asked Marisol, eyes softened with concern as she scanned his body for the injuries littered on his skin and mud staining his clothes. He looked up at her, expression shallow, striking a faint but growing fear inside of her. "How... how did you even get here? We're on the second floor."

        "I climbed." His answer was curt and simple, no emotion to his voice at all. Nothing in his eyes or the tone of his voice supported the signs of terrifying struggle that blemished him. Marisol gulped.

        "Oooookay, Spider-Man!" Nervous laughter cut through the uncomfortable silence choking them. She frowned and took small, careful steps forward as to not startle him. She crouched down to look him in the eyes as calmly as she should, slowly pulling down the zipper of his hoodie.

        "Listen, bud, why don't you take a shower? I'll wash your clothes, give you some of my dad's, and you can tell me happened, yeah?" Her voice was low and soft, as though she was consoling a frightened child. Peeling the hoodie off his slouched shoulders, she avoided his eyes, which were - very creepily - trained on her paling face. She sighed, visibly relieved when he decided to focus on the string of Polaroid pictures and what looked like dozens of framed award certificates hung up on her wall, suddenly completely neglecting her physical existence next to his enfeebled body.

        "I'm fine." His words resembled that of an accused, soulless criminal awaiting his punishment in court, perfectly trained to deny his guilt to his grave no matter what the situation was — it seemed to rehearsed. Then, abruptly, his head snapped in her direction and he grabbed her forearms tightly, staring at her with wide, crazed eyes. She could have sworn she felt all of her internal organs cease functioning for a split second and yelped pathetically. "Come on! We need to get the others!"

        Her breath hitched in her throat. She searched and searched her brain for the proper response, hyper-aware of the growing madness that distorted his handsome face. When she spoke, the pitch of her voice was a bit too high for her liking. "What — What others?"

        Dan's hold on her tightened noticeably, causing her to flinch and whimper involuntarily. A curt, mad laugh that sounded like one the Joker himself would utter left his lips. "Our friends, of course! Noah, Lily, Ava, Lucas, Andy, Stacy — the whole gang!" Another laugh that deepened the pit in her stomach, a laugh that would haunt her for days.

        Suddenly, Marisol regretted turning away psychological help. The rate of her breathing quickened anxiously as she felt a gate in her mind burst open, letting unwanted memories flood it mercilessly at the mention of their names. She could not see Dan anymore, only flashing images of ruins, of an eerie forest, and of nine children irresponsibly skipping through the trees, on their way to revisit the entity that would then change their lives forever. Her eyes were coated with a glossy sheen of tears that were more than ready to flow down her cheeks against her weakening will. When she finally mustered the courage to speak again, she whispered: "I've barely spoken to them for years, Dan. Not since Jane — "

        Before she could register what was happening, Dan stood up and pulled her with him with an unimaginable force that was sure to leave bruises. Their faces were uncomfortably close, so close she could smell the scent of blood and dirt that replaced his usual cologne. He stared at her like an enraged panther, tiny bubbles of froth forming at the corners of his mouth and face contorted with a venomous outburst. Fear was struck inside her that she felt in her very core — she almost thought he would kill her right then and there. "They have to come. Everyone has to be there. That's the rule."

        She could feel the sweat trickle down her neck, the throbbing of her tear-filled eyes, the ringing screaming of a little girl in her ears, and the thumping of her horror-stricken heart against her chest. "Rule?"

        The world stilled around them. Suddenly, she could not hear a single thing, not even her own breathing — only the awfully familiar words that the boy hissed: "Everyone plays together."

        Marisol could not have been more thankful for the sound of her phone buzzing yet again against the floorboards. She took that as an excuse to gingerly wiggle out of his loosened grip and, with shaking legs, approached her cell and picked it up. A crack tarnished the previously pristine screen, but she decided to worry about that later when it was a more appropriate time to fret over a slightly broken phone. 

        But what she saw was her breaking point. Her free hand reached up to cover her mouth and stifle a sob threatening to spill out of her quivering lips and before she could control it a steady flow of salty tears coated her cheeks.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:26 AM

DAN PIERCE

are you still there?

i think i'm lost

marisol? my battery's almost dead, please help me!!

read 3:26 AM

        The shock ricocheted up her skeleton; an enormous engulfing terror made her feel so, so sick in her mind and body. She's seen darkness before, the kind that makes an empty street look like an old-fashioned photograph, but this was different — this was the kin of darkness that robbed her of her common sense and replaced it with a paralyzing fear. By her genes, she is a predator with the intelligence and perceptive eyes to hunt, but in that moment, she felt like a helpless prey. Marisol slowly rose from the illuminating screen of her phone, her wide, suspicious eyes meeting his. 

        "Dan?" She sniffled weakly.

        Although his eyes were cold an empty, right underneath them a grin stretched his lips impossibly from one ear to the other, radiating clear indications of raging madness.

        "Marisol."

        She lunged for the knife on her bedside table yet again, shrieking as he took large and quick steps towards her violently shaking form. She searched desperately for an escape route that wasn't blocked by the towering body of the intruder in front of her but to no avail. He grabbed her wrist with a bone-crushing hold, squeezing yet another helpless screech out of her. Her voice broke when she cried out: "Dan, please! Don't make me do this!"

        And he did nothing but widen the frightening smile that would permanently etch itself into her retinas, haunting her every time she closed her eyes.

        So Marisol did the only logical thing her frantic brain could come up with — with a heart-wrenching scream, pained by having to inflict pain on a friend who was once very dear to her, she drove the blade of the knife into his abdomen. Much to her increasing horror, he did not so much as flinch at the pain, only tightened the hold around her throbbing wrist. He merely growled like a feral animal, burning holes into her with his enraged gaze. "Wrong move."

        Dan tackled her effortlessly to the floor, straddling her hips and forcing her into a cage that she would never break out of in her wildest dreams. He smashed her head against the rough surface underneath her, darkening her fading vision. "We all have to go back, remember?"

        "LEAVE ME ALONE! GET — OFF — ME!" She thrashed in his hold, no longer attempting to swallow the sobs. Finally, after agonizing attempts to kick and thrash and flail, she was able to free one of her hands and in result scraped her previously perfectly manicured fingernails down the skin of his face.

         A cry of disgust and disbelief bounced off the walls of the room when it peeled right off, revealing putrid flesh under it. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, leaving her to stare into milky whiteness while the stink of stale dirt burned the  insides of her nostrils. His long, skinny fingers curled around her neck, pressing, closing with a lack of mercy or remorse, feeling like tendrils wound around her oxygen supply. Despite her lungs blazing with agony, Marisol continued to fight fruitlessly until her energy started to dissipate like water going down a drain. Her hands fell to her side and her body grew limp, using her last breath to scream for help that, somewhere in the back of her min, she knew would never come. The last thing she saw before she embraced the coming blackness of unconsciousness was the ghastly monster that rendered her powerless and savagely tore open her old wounds.

[snailcomicz]

“I can’t live without you…” for KoTOR with that one ship you love, and for a second choice... Miles from Into the Spider-Verse, “I thought you were smarter than that!”

@owldart​, listen, in fact sit down why don’t you.

You asked me to make the pair that refused to admit the fact that they liked each other out loud unless they were on the timeline where one of them was dying say something as gut wrenchingly honest as “I can’t live without you.”

The fact that I wrote over five pages of this stuff is your fault, not mine.

[I will come back and write the second prompt too, because turn about is fair play and also I wanna]

The party sure does have to spend some time fighting the hidden Sith outposts after the final war against evil with Revan... It sure would be a shame if something were to... Happen...

"GLADIOLUS!”

“Rand, don’t go back there-”

He tore through the Sith apprentices, kindness be damned, hostages be damned, even watching his own back be damned, several tons of rock and dirt had just collapsed on the only person here that was worth a damn-

“RAND!”

Because they had trusted her to hold the rockslide off, to have their backs, when the only reason he was here, the only reason Kreia had kept him around, the only reason he came on this specific mission was to watch hers-

"ATTON!”

“SHE’S ALIVE!”

“WILL SHE FIGHT OFF THESE SHUTTAS WHEN WE FIND HER?!?”

The fact she didn’t say ‘if’ was the only thing that made him turn around, snarling into the gas mask and hurling a poison grenade at his feet. The Sith apprentices impulse to flee or cover their mouths left gaps in their guard, places he and Revan took savage advantage of in their mutual desperation. Revan was all brute force, brute Force and raw muscle, shattering one of the Sith’s lightsabers through the power of her strike alone. Atton had to fight smarter, using the apprentices uncoordinated moves against each other and hurling a handy grenade when the best opportunity struck. Their mutually destructive tactics were usually tempered by the more practical strategies of the Exile.

She wasn’t tempering either of them now.

The battlefield was quiet for barely a breath before both of them whirled back around. Some distant, emotional, soft part of him had expected her to have blasted a hole in the rubble and already started treating her injuries with a medpack, ready to remind them both to take the edge off of their fighting strategies. Instead they found a wall of rock, with dirt still drifting down from it’s landing, and utter silence.

“At-”

“She can cut herself off from the Force.” He started towards the cave in, trying to figure out how to even approach this.

“Don’t touch it Ran-”

“Do I look like I’m touching it?” Explosions would be useless, too uncontrolled, it could crush her. He should have felt something by now, she should have opened back up to the Force by now. They couldn’t start at the top and burrow down, she would be at the bottom of the silt and it would take too long. He whirled back around. “Do something useful and help me! Help her!”

“Trying, Rand.” Revan stood stock still, hand barely raised, staring at the wall with that distant ‘solving a puzzle but only in my mind’ look. Her greying hair lifted away from her face slightly, and all the dirt that had started to settle started unnaturally floating back into the air. Her voice was low and tight as a crossbow string when she said, “I don’t have her precision, you’re going to have to go in and pull her out yourself.”

Then, the rocks started to shift. Barely by an inch near the top of the rock slide, and even when Revan’s powers got to the bottom of the rubble there was only a small gap, but some part of Gladiolus would have still been on the ground when the whole thing came down and it was the best shot they had. Getting to his knees and dragging himself forward with his arms, he breathed through the filter of his mask and tried to push his senses outward. It was too dark to see, even with the dim lights still on on their side of the cave in, and pushing against the rocks might break Revan’s concentration so he had to calm down and use his other ‘sense’. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard, thinking of how boring meditating was usually and who would guide him through it.

-It’s basically an extension of your gut instinct, Atton. I’m teaching you how to focus power you already have, just in ways you haven’t thought about using it.-

He pushed his senses outward, using the gut instinct concept as a crutch he hadn’t needed in some time. Danger was everywhere, pulling his at his nerves and making him grit his teeth, but where was it worse? What place scared him most? He shifted left and pulled himself forward a good few feet, not daring to open his eyes and lose his train of thought, when something streaked gritty liquid across the edge of his cheek.

“Gotcha.” He barely breathed, feeling none of the confidence his tone tried to convey. Quick exploration with his hands found her hand coming off the low ceiling, and after that finding the rest of her was easy. Revan had, by accident or on purpose, pulled Gladiolus to the temporary ceiling with the rest of the rockslide. Finally finding her belt, he also found more gritty liquid and realized it wasn’t water.

“Come on, Exile, I got you.” Tracing upwards until he found a catch in her chestplate he pulled her down slowly, waiting until her feet dragged on the ground to start pulling her in and shuffling backwards. Gravity seemed to come back to her slowly, like Revan was trying to pull her back up, but he was just strong enough to manhandle her out of the rubble before he saw the extent of the damage.

“No.”

“Rand, get back.” Revan’s horse whisper barely registered as he stared in horror. Gladiolus wasn’t just bleeding, she was bleeding heavily from multiple places.

“Rand,” Headwounds always looked bad, but the shoulder that bore the hand he brushed against looked ripped open, and her side was bleeding too. He tried to pull healing energy from the Force, silently begging it wouldn’t fail just this once, and nothing happened.

“Atton. Move. Back.” Revan hissed, ignoring the Exile’s condition, ignoring her healing duties because her healing spells worked, ignoring-

Revan was sweating, he could see that from several feet away, with her hand fully extended and shaking all over with effort. Even her breaths were clipped, and the darkened lines that appeared when she tried to push past her limits or use the Force too much-

Oh.

Only taking the time to be gentle with her shoulder he hoisted the Exile up and started forward. Moments later the entire rockslide slammed back into the ground. Revan choked, stumbling and falling backwards, but he didn’t have any time left to spare for her. Laying Gladiolus back on the ground he pulled out one of the Life Support packs and jammed it into her thigh, waiting until he heard the distinctive shift in air pressure and beep from medicine being released before opening its outer case and gathering gauze for her shoulder.

Revan had crawled close enough to see out of his periphery, dark lines still coating her cheeks and pulling at her creaselines, but as soon as she was in range she held up her hand in the healing shape and tried to draw healing light to Gladiolus’s shoulder.

“Take a breather.”

“I’m not losing her either Atton! Y-”

“I know how healing works, even if I can’t do it, Revan.” He snapped. “Just stop and recover so you can actually heal.”

Revan bared her teeth at him before quickly crossing her legs and rifling through her bag, tearing open something sealed and biting into it. Her face faltered when her eyes fell back on her friend though, and she shifted closer to put pressure on Gladiolus’ shoulder with her empty hand. “She’s, she isn’t reconnecting to the Forc-”

“She will.” Another Life Support pack, click beep gauze, wind it around the gauze already on her shoulder, he thought, the next one goes to the side wound, then head, then what’s bleeding worse, he thought, they should have brought more people, he thought. He knew he couldn’t lose her.

Revan’s healing light flared up around Gladiolus’ head, and he shifted back to put pressure on her side. “Is she breathi-”

“She will.” He didn’t dare check, not her breath or her pulse, pressing firmly on the wound in her side. Because he was a coward, a deserter, selfish beyond belief, and if she was gone not only was the rest of the universe done for, but he wouldn’t have anything left. He used up all his hope in the Mandelorian Wars, his loyalty on the figurehead the woman beside him used to be during the Jedi-Sith Wars, his luck on Pazzak, and his sheer doggedness on keeping the last person he expected to love alive. Without her support, his slowly growing empathy and healing would collapse in on itself. In her solid, unshakeable light he had changed too much from the shell of the man he used to be to go back, but not enough to hold on to any of the good he’d scraped up in himself without her.

“Please, ‘Lus.” He whispered. “I can’t do this- I can’t live without you.”

The one person, the only one of the three of them that didn’t deserve any of this, he should have gotten over himself and made sure she was breathing seven, twelve, twenty one seconds ago, damn it-

Revan slapped him on the shoulder with unregulated strength, almost bowling him over. “It’s your stupid card game!”

He thought four barely a second. “What?”

“Listen.”

He glared at her wordlessly, double checking the Exile before glancing over his shoulder-

“No, idiot.” She flicked his head with one hand, before pointing at his chest and trying to pry into his mental wall, oddly grinning when he automatically started counting cards to rebuff her. “That kind of listen.”

Tension prickled up and down his back from her intended intrusion and distrust surged back into the forefront of his mind, leaving up his mental walls and checking his tally, putting down a plus four-

He held his breath and reached out once more. He kept counting his cards, hoping that she would respond with her own play, that Revan was saying what he thought she was saying, he hadn’t imagined Fourteen

Reaching out for Gladiolus in the Force most of the time was like trying to find a massive searchlight in the middle of the day, where yes, other light and connections were everywhere, but it was always blindingly obvious where she was. During the rare times she cut herself off from the Force, reaching out for her was like looking for a specific light that wasn’t turning on a navigational console, scrambling for something that should be there but wasn’t even if you knew it would turn back on eventually. In this moment, when he faintly felt her for the first time, it was like trying to find a shorting flashlight beam in a fully illuminated room.

But she was there, barely flashing out numbers without any of the addition or colors the two of them normally conveyed when they had to play this mental game. Wetness gathered along the edges of his eyes when he felt the barest hint of satisfaction at twenty and realized she really was going to be alright. 

Revan switched which hand was putting pressure on Gladiolus’ shoulder and held her other hand out, healing light surging back stronger than before and finally stemming the bleeding on her forehead. “I can’t believe you. Minutes after getting crushed, you regain consciousness and you’re inspiring us instead of healing yourself?!?”

The almost hysterical note in Revan’s voice matches the deep seated twist in his gut, with them both feeling that sickening terror of too close, too close hanging in the air. But even when Gladiolus’ lost consciousness again and her numbers faded back out her light didn’t, barely there but there where he can reach her.

[thetreeshavenotongues]

Gajevy Week ‘19 Prompt: You’re Beautiful

So,I haven’t really kept up with the prompts, and I have a half-written fic for each one that I just haven’t gotten around to finishing, whenever that does happen it’ll probably go on my AO3 account though - no offense to Tumblr, i just actually know how to maneuver Archive and every time I post a fic here I feel like I’m doing something wrong. 

Anywho, this is inspired by one of Rboz’s works, my story is very different, but I love her council Gajevy stuff so, any council works I do for them is heavily inspired by her comics.

Beautiful

They were everywhere. Around every corner and down every hall. Tittering behind their hands and gnawing at her sanity.

It was an infestation, and God how Levy wished she could just swat them with a newspaper.  

“So, Levy-san, what was it like? You know… working with him.” The words were a conspiratorial hiss over the stacks of files on her desk, and, unsurprisingly, did little to help Levy’s mood.

Honestly, she wanted to throw her hands up, roll her eyes to the heavens and possibly light the end of the annoying chit’s uniform on fire; instead Levy only sighed and kept her eyes on the mountain of paperwork in front of her.

“It was fine.” She grumbled, hoping the curt words would be enough to shoo away her annoying assistant and her even more annoying questions.

Over the few months that she had been at The Council, Levy had grown all too used to this vein of conversation, and her day to day mood had suffered dramatically for it. She had been accosted in hallways by dithering coworkers, they had swarmed around her in the cafeteria, and one obsessive soul had even waited for her outside the bathroom door to ask if Gajeel wore boxers or briefs.

It was as if none of the women at The Council had seen a man until the iron dragon-slayer had shown up, practically oozing the type of masculinity that sent them all into a mating frenzy the likes of which Levy had assumed were limited only to nature documentaries.

Of course, Gajeel’s blasé attitude, new rank and the fact that he looked positively sinful in The Council’s uniform didn’t help matters much either.

“Oh, come on Levy-san, you’ve got to tell me more than that,” her assistant pressed, plopping her bottom on the desk and disturbing the organized stacks that had just been placed there – Levy scowled and felt her pen poke a hole clean through the paper she had been working on. “He barely talks to anyone but you and Lily-san. He’s just so mysterious and broody… and have you seen those arms! I mean, he just so….so….” the woman pulled in a deep breath and released a strangled sigh, “ya know what I mean?”

Yeah, Levy knew. She knew all too damn well. When he would stomp down the halls, wearing those shirts that looked like they were painted on, with his jacket held onto his shoulders by some sort of magic she couldn’t quite comprehend and acting for all the world like he owned the place, even she found herself dry mouthed and weak-kneed. Still, she wasn’t about to stoop to the point of agreeing with the woman nor would she offer her two-cents regarding Gajeel’s appearance.

Not that it would matter much anyway.

When they had first arrived at The Council and Gajeel had claimed his spot as a favorite obsession of the fairer sex, she had been subjected to an onslaught of questions – “are you dating?” “Have you slept together?” “Do you like him?” “Does he like you?”- and, in a move that she would forever regret, she had vehemently denied them all and stupidly claimed they were “just friends.” Unfortunately, this had only served to make her the go-to person for all questions relating to and requests for the dark-haired man.

What she wouldn’t give now, to be able to go back in time and tell them all “yes! He’s mine!” Even if it was a bald-faced lie.

She sighed again and pulled herself out of her thoughts, only to realize that the woman on her desk had yet to stop talking. “- each other in the hall yesterday and I swear he checked me out.” It was all Levy could do to keep from rolling her eyes. “So, do you think, that maybe,” Levy groaned, “well, could you ask him if he’d-“

“Sara-san,” Levy cut her off, finally pulling her eyes from her papers to level the woman with a hard stare, “if  you’re interested in Gajeel, then go tell him, but right now, we have a report due by Friday for Jura-san and you were sent here to help me. So, can we please get this done?” A pointed look at her backside currently resting on some treaty copies had the girl blushing crimson and sliding off the desk. 

“Oh,” she mumbled, looking properly contrite, “sorry.” For a moment Levy was relieved – forgiving, even – but the next words out of the other woman’s mouth had her seriously contemplating how quickly she could send a small fire spell at the end of her coat. “So, you really think he’s interested in me too?”

Levy groaned, it seemed like it was just going to be one of those days.

The sun was already setting when Levy finally left her office. Normal business hours had ended, and while she could hear the echoed shuffle of distant feet down the wide marble hallway, she was relieved to find The Council, more or less, empty.

All she wanted to do was make it to her little apartment and take a long, hot bath, read a book and forget all about her day. But even as she made her plans in her head - ticking off everything from the type of tea she would have in the bath to the name of the book she wanted to read - her shoulder ached under the weight of her work bag, a nagging reminder of what really awaited her once she got home.

“I guess there’ll be time for that after I get this done,” she mumbled to herself as she readjusted her bag and rounded a corner, her mind heavy with drafts of reports that had yet to be written. When her nose crashed into a familiar wall of iron muscle however, she knew that even those plans were about to be shot to hell.

“Took ya long enough, Shrimp.” Gajeel’s gruff words were offset by the two hands that reached out to steady her and the almost playful smirk that pulled at his lips.

She took a step back and rubbed her nose, using the time to discreetly look over the man. He was outfitted in his usual sleeveless forest green  shirt and wide legged white pants tucked into a pair of black boots, his Council jacket, however, was nowhere to be found, so she could only assume that he had already gone to his apartment and came back to fetch her.  “C’mon, Lil’s outta town and I’m cookin’ yer favorite.”

 “Gajeel,” she sighed “not tonight. I’m heading home.”

Gajeel’s arms folded over his chest and he gave her the kind of look that told her this would be an uphill battle. “Ya couldn’t feed a mouse with what you’ve got at yer place, Shorty.”

“I’ll pick up something on the way,” Levy replied, side stepping him to continue on her way. She was unsurprised when his heavy footfalls fell in step behind her, she sighed. “I’ve got a ton of work to finish up for Jura-san and after that all I want to do is sink into a warm bath and go to bed.”

“Last I checked there’s a bath and a bed at my place. Not to mention all that damn clothes you made me clean out a draw-“ The little mage spun around and slapped her hand across his lips so quickly that Gajeel barely saw it coming.

“Gajeel!” She hissed, her cheeks a fierce red as her eyes darted around the empty hall. “Shush!”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and when he gently pulled her hand away his mouth was already twisted up in a predatory smile. “What’s the matter, Shrimp?” His words were practically a purr as he stepped closer, still holding her wrist to ensure that she stay put – not that he thought his little Shrimp would ever back down from a challenge. “Scared someone’ll think we’re shackin’ up?”

Her eyes narrowed in a glare that was almost threatening, were it not for the red that clung to her cheeks in the cutest way.

“Gajeel-!”

“- Gee hee,” he backed off and released her hand. He knew she would take it as some tactless joke - as she always did when he put forward these clumsy attempts at flirtation – and, for now, that was best. “C’mon, I’ve got work to do too. Let’s have a quick dinner, finish this shit and go to bed, yeah?”

Levy sighed, and shamelessly let her eyes run over his frame. He looked tired – not just from his work and ladder climbing at the Council – but from all of this. And, dammit, so was she - from her aching head to her sore feet to the emptiness that had wrapped itself around her soul for nearly half a year now. An emptiness that was slightly less intolerable in the presence of this emotionally stunted, red-eyed man who did live 10 minutes closer to The Council than she did.

“Fine,” she breathed out, “but if I find out that you’ve just collected scrap metal instead of real food, I’m going home.”

He grinned, “why would I do that when I have you and yer amazing iron around?” Something about the words had Levy’s stomach doing flips and she was all too happy when he sauntered ahead of her, oblivious to the renewed flare of red on her cheeks.

She shook her head and quickened her steps - honestly, the man was turning her into Juvia.

They had just made it out of the winding, cavernous halls of The Council’s main branch when she became aware of his eyes on her. The look was hard and calculating, complete with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and just when she was about to ask “what” he shoved his hand towards her and said “hand it over.”

“Huh?”

He wiggled his fingers and frowned. “The bag, Shrimp. Give me the bag. It’s too heavy for ya.”

She scoffed and pulled the strap a little higher on her shoulder. “It is not.”

“Yer steps are off, I can hear it.” He knew she could be stubborn, more so than him sometimes, and from the hands she had just crossed over her chest and the pout she was sporting, he knew this was going to be one of those times. He dropped his hand and sighed, “you can glare at me all ya want, Lev, but ya look like you’re about to break in half carrying that thing. So,” he stopped walking and turned to face her fully, he bent at the waist and brought them almost nose to nose, meeting her defiant glare with an insidious smirk, “you can either give me the bag, or I’ll take it. Yer choice.”

Her obstinate gaze didn’t so much as flicker and his smirk only widened. “Fine,” he leaned back and shrugged, “you asked for it.”

He bent low, wrapped an arm around her legs, and before Levy could fully register what was happening, he had her slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“What the hell, Gajeel?!” Her small fists pounded on his back, but she received little more than a “Gee hee” from the man in response.

When he started walking again, showing little sign of putting her down anytime soon, she relented on her abuse and settled into a more comfortable position.

“So,” Gajeel was the first to break the silence, “gonna tell me what’s got yer panties in a twist today?”

Levy huffed, “my panties are not in a twist.”

Gajeel scoffed, “Gimme some credit, Lev,” his words came with a gentle squeeze on her thigh and she couldn’t help but sigh.

“It’s nothing serious,” she mumbled, doing her best to ignore the warmth of his large hand on her leg, “just a bit annoyed. I wanted to finish these reports today. I mean, I don’t mind the work or anything, but I haven’t had a night where I didn’t have to take something home with me in so long.” Gajeel grunted, he knew all too well what she meant. Levy had become a fixture in his life over the years, and when they joined The Council, she quickly became a fixture in his home as well, so he had been there on countless occasions, watching her scribbling away at his desk until the wee hours of the morning.  

“Maybe if ya didn’t keep sending yer assistants to be reassigned, yer workload would be a little more bearable.”

Levy stifled a groan “I though Lily was out of town, how did you hear about that already?”

Her answer came in the form of his trademark laugh. She didn’t have a response, so she settled for pouting as she rest her cheek against his shoulder blade.

From her place on his back, she had little else to look at besides his boots and the floor, so when the pavement started to change from the pristine white of the area surrounding the Council, to the dark grey of the city proper, she noticed immediately. Half of the reason she hadn’t put up much of a fight when Gajeel had picked her up was because she knew that at this time the streets around the Council would be deserted – security had been tripled when they rebuilt after the Tartaros incident and the whole surrounding area was off limits to all non-members – the streets of the city, however, were a different story entirely, and there was no way she would allow herself to be carted through the bustling streets ass first.

She sighed, “Gajeel, if I give you my bag, will you put me down?”

He stopped and hummed thoughtfully, “I dunno…I’m kinda enjoying the view.” He squeezed her thigh again and laughed when she released a surprised squeak.

“Gajeel!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He lifted her easily and placed her down.

His hands lingered a moment too long on her waist, and she found herself missing the warmth of his palm on her thigh.

She cleared her throat and he stepped back. “Here,” she offered the bag and muttered an almost shy “thank you” when he took the bag.

“Jeez Shrimp,” he feigned a show of weighing the bag in his hand before easily tossing it over his shoulder, “what’d yer assistant do that made bringing half the library home a better idea than having her help you?”  

Levy scowled and dragged the toe of her boot along the pavement before she grumbled out a response, “she was a little too focused on a Department Head to get any actual work done.”

Gajeel’s brows drew together and his nose scrunched in that way that Levy knew meant he was really trying to figure out who she was talking about. Not for the first time, she wondered if this level of obliviousness was some sort of dragon-slayer specific trait. “That frog guy?”

She rolled her eyes, “you, you dummy.”

For a moment Gajeel looked genuinely confused - his eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline before descending back into a frown  - but his confusion was brief, and before Levy could blink his features had rearranged into an expression of such smugness that it had her groaning before he even spoke. “So, you were jealous?”

“I was not!” Levy sputtered, “It’s just unprofessional is all.” She sniffed indignantly and folded her arms across her chest. “Besides, I told her if she was so interested, she should talk to you herself.”

She threw a glance his way trying to see if the words would garner any reaction, but aside from the disappearance of his grin he was impassive. Two seconds ticked by before he offered a grunt and started walking forward. An awkward silence settled between them.

Levy frowned - after all this time, she still found that she had difficulty reading the man and it irked her to no end. There were moments when he was an open book and they could practically share a conversation with a glance, but then there were still times like this, when he would close himself off completely and even she had no idea what was going on in his head. Was he just intent on getting home? Was he mulling over the possibility of a date with that woman? Or was he upset that she had told Sara to approach him?

She was more than a little ashamed to admit that she hoped it was the latter. She’d hate for him to be upset with her, but at least then she would have a better idea as to where he stood with their…whatever it was they had. But those thoughts were selfish, and she wanted to kick herself for entertaining them at all.

Even with all they’d been through and how close they were, she knew it didn’t make them a couple, at least, not really. Yes, they spent a lot of time together, but aside from the time he had almost drowned, they had never really kissed, they didn’t whisper sweet nothings to one another, they hadn’t so much as held hands in public. But, whatever they had, labeling it as “friendship” also just didn’t seem right – she had lots of male friends, and never did she ever feel for any of them what she felt for Gajeel. It was a little before Tenrou Island that they began to grow unexpectedly close, then the feelings just kind of snowballed from there until they had landed themselves in that strange “not quite a couple” but “more than just friends” grey area.

It was this undefinable something between them that kept them together after the guild was disbanded. Yes, they couldn’t put a name to their relationship, but neither of them had even entertained the thought of going separate ways; so they traveled together, and somehow along the way whatever it was only grew.They ate together, trained together, depended on each other, and when she woke up panicked and crying from the shock of losing her family, he was there, pulling her into his arms and stroking her hair until she fell asleep next to him – a habit which stuck even after the nightmares had stopped coming.

When they found themselves settling down at The Council, propriety dictated separate apartments, but the transition had been a strange and wholly unwelcome one for her. A week after their arrival he had slid her a key to his place over breakfast, and while the gesture wasn’t grand – it was Gajeel after all, the key had been sent her way with little more than a “here, this is yours, Lily’s making Stroganoff tonight,” – it still warmed her heart to know that maybe he missed her constant company as much as she missed his. It wasn’t long before she would have a toothbrush in the bathroom and a drawer in his bedroom and her favorite blanket decorating his bed, and almost overnight her apartment became a place she visited more than lived in.

Still, a conversation about what everything meant eluded them. The topic had never come up even once, and beyond her presence at his apartment nearly every night, they had never actually done anything even remotely coupley, and Lord knew there were plenty of opportunities – they did sleep in the same bed after all. But, aside from the occasional innuendo and the heavy, pierced arm slung over her waist every morning, he had never made an actual move.

On more than one occasion she had attempted to screw up the courage to just bring it up and see things through once and for all; but then, something would happen, he’d make some crack about her height or one of the girls at work - one of those taller, prettier, chestier girls - would come to her for advice about how to get his attention – and whatever resolve she had mustered up would just fade away. It was beyond frustrating and it was probably one of the reasons she was in such a funk after today.

Levy was so lost in thought over the matter that it took a moment for her to realize that Gajeel’s heavy footsteps no longer accompanied the light tap tap of hers on the cobblestone street. When she looked around, she found he was standing some feet behind with a light frown pulling down the edges of his lips.

She closed the distance in a few quick steps and met his hard, red eyes with her curious brown ones. Before she could ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue he asked one of his own. “Why?”

“Why?” She repeated, her brows drawing down in confusion.

“Why’d ya tell her that?” The words were curt, but lacked any actual malice, nonetheless, Levy was not a fan of this avenue of conversation and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Well, you are, you know,” she hesitated for a moment, as if the next word was some sort of curse, “single.” She fidgeted again, “And I just assumed – well - she has a thing for you, and I’m sure you’ve noticed all the girls following you around, I mean, she is pretty and –“

Gajeel’s hand landed on her head lightly, startling her into a blessed pause from her ramblings. At some point she had dropped her eyes to the floor, but the surprise of his touch brought them back up again. He was staring at her intently, his expression was a jumble of emotions, but at the forefront was confusion and a tinge of disbelief. Then, in a move she would never have expected, Gajeel actually threw his head back and laughed.

“Jeez, Lev,” his shoulders shook lightly, but his laughter had almost completely subsided by the time he spoke again, “and ya say I’m oblivious.”

Levy puffed up, ready to deliver a scathing remark, when the hand atop her head moved. His fingers tangled gently into her blue locks before sliding down to cup her cheek with a tenderness that had her at a loss for words.

He bent down and brought his forehead to rest against hers before closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, “Why the hell would I want “pretty” when I already have the most beautiful girl in the world followin’ me around?”

He opened his eyes and moved back, taking the warmth of his hand from her cheek, then he stepped around her and continued on his way home.

She was left dumbstruck for a moment, her mind reeling and her jaw slack. Gradually his words sunk in, and when they did, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop the grin that pulled at her lips even if she wanted to.  

It wasn’t a love confession, it wasn’t even a kiss, but it meant more to her than she had ever expected such simple words ever would. She turned to look at his retreating back and felt her grin grow even wider. He didn’t care about those other girls, because he thought she was beautiful and–

Wait… she replayed his words in her head one more time and her smile dropped like a lead weight.  

“Gajeel!” She yelled at his back, “I do not follow you around!”

He was already smirking when he turned to look at her stomping her way up the street towards him. “I dunno, Shrimp. Looks like yer following me right now.” He threw a laugh over his shoulder before speeding up into a run.  “Gee hee.”

She faltered for half a step, blushed and sputtered before picking up her pace, yelling at his back as she went. “I- you- ugh! Gajeel, you dummy!”

As she raced to catch up with him, she couldn’t completely hold back the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. They still weren’t a couple and she had no idea when they would ever figure that out, but it was fine. He thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and right now, that was all she needed to know.

[commaeleons]

The ramble about bird!Dirk’s wings in The Price for Fire that literally no one asked for

but i'm up hours before my alarm and i’m having Feelings(TM), so here have some word vomit anyway sorry if i make you cry

So okay let’s talk about anatomy and motion and flight and how this all plays into Dirk’s narrative arc.

I mention in...chapter 4, I think? that despite having these massive wings strapped to his back, Dirk can’t fly. And okay the real reason behind that is that frankly I didn’t want to deal with the complications that allowing him to travel in three dimensions like that would involve, but as is so often the case, that gave me the opportunity to do some interesting things with him.

So, first of all: The in-universe reasons why Dirk can’t fly.

Reason number one: He doesn’t have a keel bone. Birds’ sternums are shaped very very differently from humans’ in order to support the flight muscles across their chests. Without that, Dirk’s muscular structure is literally incapable of flapping his wings strongly enough to carry his weight. Whenever Dirk does flap his wings, it’s as a slight boost to his jumps, usually to get him up to the lower branches of the trees.

(Note also that Dirk does not have hollow bones--except possibly in his wings; i haven’t decided--so he weighs substantially more than a bird of his size would. This is reason number two.)

Reason number three: Dirk’s skeletal structure severely limits his range of motion in his arms and wings. A bird’s wings emerge from the torso at the shoulder, and they have a fairly similar range of motion from that joint. Dirk’s, however, come out of his back. I have admittedly fudged this a few times already for dramatic effect (blah blah if he rolls his shoulders forwards in a certain way it opens up room on his back for the wing joints to move more freely but it’s not very comfortable so he doesn’t do it often i can make excuses all day), but at least in theory, he shouldn’t be able to bring his wings forward much past his ribs because the connection to his torso literally doesn’t work that way. When Dirk’s wings are relaxed, they don’t go sideways, they go backwards. (at an angle, but still.)

Then there’s the trouble with having too many limbs in a space that’s not really designed for it. I’m hand-waving the details here because tbh life’s too short to go on a dissertation about how the bones would articulate, but what I imagine is that Dirk has a second set of shoulder blades that support the wings, and his two sets of shoulder blades interfere with each other. So, in addition to not being able to stretch his wings forward, Dirk also can’t roll his arms back. Very much limited range of motion.

What this all means for Dirk

Basically, that his life sucks. He can’t use his wings to fly, they fuck with his ability to move his arms, they’re fucking heavy (there’s a reason Dirk usually keeps them folded up tight; the closer he keeps them to his center of gravity, the easier it is to support their weight), and oh yeah if he falls into a body of water they’ll get waterlogged and possibly drown him. (Most birds have oil glands, and they spread the oil over their wings while preening to waterproof them. The birds that don’t generally have specialized feathers that disintegrate into a powder that does the same job. Dirk has neither of these.)

On top of that, they’re really unwieldy and actually put him at a significant disadvantage if he needs to physically defend himself. Sure, he can try to use them to bat at whoever he’s fighting (like swans do), but again: He doesn’t have the muscular system that would give him real power behind those kinds of hits. Frankly, he’s much better off using his talons. But at that point, the wings are basically just huge weights that can easily be used against him because, like, if you’re trying to take Dirk down, all you have to do is grab hold of one of his wings and twist, and down he goes. Pin him on his front, and he can’t even use his talons. Game over.

And Dirk is very aware of this. It’s one of the many reasons he was so wary to interact with Jake when they first met. Like, Dirk was absolutely stalking Jake every day that he went out there, sizing him up and desperately hoping that Jake wouldn’t come back the next day. He only made his presence known when he determined that Jake was just not going to give this up and might, in fact, escalate if Dirk didn’t put an end to it. Coming down out of the tree at the end of that conversation was already a huge risk for Dirk, but he decided that if push came to shove, he could flare his wings, flash his talons, and startle Jake enough to get the space he would need to escape. (Dirk is very much flight over fight in this ‘verse. He’s not interested in taking down his opponent; he just needs to get away.)

How this plays into his narrative arc (aka that’s a hell of a symbolism no one thought was a symbolism but damn if it didn’t just get symbolized so nice job)

(okay so before i go into this section i need to admit that most of this was not stuff that i consciously planned for when i set out, but fuck it sure turned out this way and i love it)

So we’ve got Dirk with his big pretty wings and his tragic fucking past, and guys. Guys. It is the height of poetic irony.

Because wings are so often a symbol of freedom, but in Dirk’s case, they are very much the opposite. Even beyond the fact that he can’t fly, they literally limit his range of motion (anatomically) and his freedom to travel (because those wings are hella distinctive, and it would be all too easy for his past to catch up to him). They limit him immensely in so many ways.

Dirk sees his wings as ornamental, functionally worse-than-useless lies. And he’s not wrong.

One of the themes I play with in The Price for Fire (and for Dirk, especially), is that of deceptive appearances. We’ve got his “cozy cave” which turns out to be a sort of self-made prison; we’ve got this fantastical bird boy who turns out to be pretty much mundane, aside from his backstory and truly impressive anxiety; we’ve got those ember-bright eyes which turn out to be a subtle dig at humanity (“the price for fire,” indeed: you can have your fire, but it comes with the rest of this package); we’ve got his whole backstory where a blessing turned out to be a curse; we’ve got that beautifully decorated jar, which turns out to be...well, you get the point.

And we’ve got these gorgeous wings that make him feel ugly and trapped.

And Dirk doesn’t--can’t--take care of them like he should, because he was never meant to be able to. He was meant to be a disposable plot device; used and then tossed out. (How many other myths do you know of where the big P plays a role?) But his story doesn’t end there, and he has to struggle to find a reason to love himself now that the one that was given to him is gone--now that the one that was given to him turned out to be a venomous snake that poisoned everything about him that he thought could be good.

But he’s still carrying the weight of that disregard and that lack of care/love literally on his back, and it weighs him down. Disillusioned, he’s so cynical when this beacon of hope appears in his life and tries to convince him that there is something in him worth loving, that he can reclaim his beauty, his body, his life, his story and make it what he wants. And he wants to believe that’s true, but he’s spent so long knowing down to the core of him that he was made to be a trick, a trap, and it’s so hard to trust in anything when you can’t even trust yourself.

But he’ll get there.

And maybe he’ll even find a little bit of freedom.

i just fucking love this sad sad bird boy okay T_T

[vintage-story-time]

MANHATTAN MADNESS by Chili Peeler

Chapter 8

Julie sat up and reached behind her, unfastening her now unnecessary top. She pulled the leather straps off her shoulders and peeled the top off her body. Her fresh-fucked silicone breasts barely sagged as she threw the top on the floor. "Fuck, I love your body," Jim said as she lay on her side by him, "Did you ever dance like Beth?" Julie laughed, "No." Then continued, "That was never an option for me." Her hand dipped down between his splayed legs and began stroking his deflated balls. "I prefer being in the background, pulling the strings." Jim turned his body so he was on his side facing her and let his right hand begin massaging the underside of her breasts, enjoying the firm heavy weight of her fake tits. "Why are we doing this tonight?" Jim asked, sincerely curious, "I mean.. is it because I'm Beth's brother."

"Now why would you think that?" Julie said, that wicked smile beginning to creep back onto her face. "I sort of get the idea that would be something you'd go for...I should be off limits since Beth is your...girlfriend....but I think you like wild stuff like that." "I'll admit that that was part of it." Julie conceded as her hand squeezed his nut sack lovingly. "I also can't resist young men; you're always so hard and eager to please....but, I could ask you the same question. You knew Beth and I are lovers and it didn't stop you." Julie had a point there. Here he had gone a slept with his sister's lover and a portion of his attraction was probably found there. It was a real turn-on in fact, sharing Julie with Beth. Still he didn't want Beth to find out; it might ruin her thing with Julie. "I hope we can keep this to ourselves," Jim confessed, "I'd hate myself if Beth found out and it caused any problems between you two." "Our secret is safe with me...you know, if you want to fuck me, we better stop talking and get down to business." Just like that, Julie slipped back into her temptress voice as her hand slid up along the bottom of his half-hard dick. "Oh, man, am I going to fuck you!" Jim chortled, "Just get me hard and get those pants off." "First things first...I've got your cum on my chest...I'd really like it if you'd rub it into my tits." With pleasure!" Jim moved his fingers up into a puddle of his juices and then went to work smearing her left nipple with it. Encouraged by the way her hand began beating his rising member, he was soon using his entire palm to knead and rub his spunk on both her tits. Julie was loving it, too. "Mmmmmm, feel how hard my nipples are!" "I can't believe how small they are," Jim confessed. Julie must have had a pretty small pair of tits before her surgery. "Suck on 'em!" Julie sighed as her she arched her back, lifting her left melon-like mammary toward his lips. Jim lowered his face and took her pencil-thick nubbin into his mouth and began swirling his tongue against its stiff rubbery stalk. Julie began almost immediately to vocalize her pleasure, "Oh, that's it, stud!...Mmmmm....oh, you hot fucker.....lick your cum off my nipple." Jim almost pulled his mouth away; he hadn't been thinking about that since he'd rubbed it into her skin but that salty taste wasn't all sweat. He was tasting his own cum. Back in Nebraska, that would be homo activity so he had some natural ingrown trepidation. But it was turning Julie on, so he forged ahead. He let his hand start sliding down between their prone bodies, down her stomach and under the top band of her short skirt and the tight pants underneath. He wanted to diddle Julie's puss before he peeled her pants off and dropped between her thighs....... In a flash, Julie's hand was off his dick and pushing his hand away. Surprised by another denial of entry into her holy of holies, he raised his mouth from her succulent teat and leaned away from her. "What now?!" he asked, breathing hard. "If I'm gonna fuck you, I should be able to finger you." "Oh, you poor boy....I must have given you the wrong idea." She leaned toward him and kissed his chest, then continued rolling onto her stomach. "Did you think you were going to get my pussy?" "Christ, you said you wanted me to fuck you!" Jim said exasperatedly. "I do want you to fuck me," Julie assured him, "just not where you had in mind......I want you to fuck my asshole!" Her eyes danced with a wicked mischief as she knew the proposal would be unexpected. "Holy....are you serious?" Jim asked excitedly. He'd seen a girl in those blue films take on two guys at once, one of them taking her up the ass, but he'd never dreamed he'd be in bed with a woman that wanted it there. Of course, Julie was just the kind of woman that would - no sexual hang-ups at all. "Pull off my skirt and you'll see just how serious I am." Jim did just that. He moved onto his knees, straddling the

back of her knees and pulled down on the skirt to reveal an oval-shaped slit in the bottom of her tight leather pants. Julie's voluptuous ass filled the pants so completely that the slit was naturally spread wide, revealing the deep cleft in her buttocks. Julie's leather-strapped top had been made to accentuate titfucking and her pants were made for backdoor sex and backdoor sex only. The slit did not dip low enough that Jim could get any view of her pussy; Julie's stinginess even went that far. "Niiiiiiiiiiice," Jim said as his hands began to stroke her ample ass; he loved the contrast of the soft leather and the even softer skin of Julie's asscheeks. He'd always gone for girls with small, tight butts; school cheerleaders or even cruising some sophomores. But Julie's ass was....substantial. That was probably the best word to describe it. It was a full-grown woman's ass.....and she wanted it fucked! Julie twisted her upper body to look back at him over her left shoulder. Her left hand came back and pulled her ass open. Jim found himself looking at her sweaty, lightly-haired asshole. The dimpled area surrounding it was darker in color and striated. "Finger it...go ahead, it won't bite you!" she prompted him. Jim used his right hand to pull her right cheek apart and he slid his left index finger down onto her puckered opening. He ran his fingertip around her hot, damp entrance a few times and Julie hunched her hips back at him to spur him to investigate further. Slowly he stuck his finger against her sphincter and it slid through her elastic barrier. "Yeah, stick it up there," Julie hotly demanded. "Mmmm, I like that." Jim was amazed at the heat that surrounded his probing digit; it felt like it had been inserted in an oven on low heat. It didn't feel particularly tight around his single finger except at her sphincter where it gripped his knuckle. Experimentally he began thrusting his finger in and out, watching it draw out her moist butthole slightly before it slid down his finger. He wondered if he'd be able to get all of his cock up her ass; Julie was large in stature, so his money was on her. There was no time like the present to find out. "Ready for some cock up your ass?!" Jim put on a confident tone as he looked up at Julie's watching face. He knew she'd liked hot talk and he wanted to show her that he was eager to try it. "Always," Julie said sexily, "Pull my skirt all the way off." Jim did so and as soon as he cast it on the floor, Julie grabbed a pillow and slid it under her hips, raising her derierre slightly as she spread her legs wider on the bed. Jim kneeled now inside her legs instead of straddling them. "Now, before you go plunging in there, I want you to use some spit to get your knob slick. The rest should go in without much trouble," she promised. Jim spat several times into his hand and rubbed the slippery wetness all over the flared head of his renewed erection. He scooted forward until his knees were against the inside of her thighs. That was Julie's signal to lower her chest onto the bed, reach around with both hands and pull her cheeks wide for him. "Man, I wish I had a camera," Jim told Julie as he leaned over her stretched out frame, supporting himself with his left arm as his right hand guided his glistening dickhead down into her asscrack. It really was an erotic sight - this lovely goddess holding her ass open for him, inviting him to sample yet another new sexual activity. She was being a great tour guide; it appeared she liked everything under the sun except straight sex. He ran his dick cap slowly down her crack until it fed into the deep indentation of her asshole. He pressed downward and had no success at first. "Shove it a little harder," Julie encouraged. "Get the head in and we're home free, baby." Nervously, Jim hunched forward, then tried even harder. All at once his cock helmet disappeared through her tight sphincter ring. "Oh, God, that's tight!" Jim gasp. Her sphincter

squeezed his shaft just behind his buried knob like a vise. "It'll loosen, baby, just let it sit for a minute....don't tell me you never had to let a girl adjust to your big dick?......I've bet you've stretched out quite a few teenyboppers back in Nebraska!.......feel it, it's not so tight now, is it?" "No, that feels a lot better," Jim had to admit. The muscle ring had loosened to the point that it was still tight but not so tight that it hurt. Julie released her ass, brought her arms back up under her body and raised herself up on her elbows. She whipped her long black hair to the side with one of her sexy head tosses and twisted her upper body to look back at their union. "Ooh, look at that big fucker sticking in my ass!" she said like a X- rated porn star, "Okay, give me the rest!" Jim kissed her shoulder, then moved his mouth to nibble her earlobe. He slowly began pushing his hard dick down into her musky hole, leaning further over her to get the right angle instinctively. "Oh, yeah!...God, shove it in, baby! Aaaaah...mmmmmm.....open my ass right up, lover!" Julie throatily whispered, her mouth so close to his own ear. Her ass felt like a hot, tight, oily glove; it seemingly sucked him inward until the top of his hand, which clenched the base of his half- buried prong, pressed into her soft ass cheeks. He took his hand away, sliding it under her stomach as he worked another inch into her gorgeous rear. "Fuck, this is wild!" Jim groaned as he moved his mouth forward along her jaw line, until his lips were on the side of her mouth and her tongue was coming out to greet him. Their kiss was awkward due to the way her body was twisted but her heat was transmitted. She was getting really turned on now, there was no faking going on. Like an excited, anxious stallion, Jim lunged forward and the final two inches of his throbbing cock pushed into Julie's seemingly bottomless shithole. The front of his hips and dangling nuts lay on her slightly trembling, leather-covered ass. She moaned into his mouth, the vibrations coursing through her captured tongue. After another moment, their lips parted with a wet smacking sound and it was Julie's panting voice that filled the still bedroom. "God, I love it!....I love getting fucked up the ass....come on, do it, Jim!" "Okay, okay," Jim rasped and he dragged several inches of cock out of her hot depths and then sank it back in. "Oh, man, I could get used to this! Shit, I can feel your muscles squeezing me. Are you doing that on purpose?" "Mmm hmm," she sighed as he began fucking her ass. "Feel this?" "Aaaah, Christ!" Jim grunted as her shitter tightened up, then relaxed again. He took the opportunity to begin screwing her butthole faster, enjoying the series of sexy clenchings that Julie began with her tail muscles. "That's the way to fuck that ass!...aaahh....aahhh....Fuck it, you horny bastard.....oh, yeah, uunnhuhhh...mmmmmm!" Julie was using her voice like she was using her inner muscles. Jim attacked her ear with his tongue, worming it in there, knowing that he loved it when a girl did that. Julie sighed and then shook her head to make him stop. Either it was too sexy or she was ticklish. Undaunted, his right hand slid up the front of her body and began groping her fabulous tits, the tits he'd fucked about fifteen minutes ago. His fingers slid into the bottom of her cleavage and he could feel some of his spunk hiding in there. "Found some..of my jizz between..your tits." Jim said into her ear as he continued plunging her upthrust ass. She gave an excited squeal but he wasn't sure whether it was due to his discovery or to a hard thrust he delivered to her immediately after. Then he felt her hand move over his and she drew his hand up to her face and began sucking on his fingers, nursing on them like they would spurt more cum than what she could taste on his fingers. Jim was glad he'd come once already because Julie's erotic finger sucking and her hot asshole taking

his hard dick would have made them blow his load. As it was, he felt good, felt strong. He began pumping her anal chute strongly. "Stuff my ass with cock!" Julie blurted as she drew his fingers from her mouth, "Fuck it.....oh YEEAAHH.....just like that, just like that, stud! ...God, I'm gonna come big time....." That's just what Jim wanted to hear; he wanted to get Julie off good. He wanted her to want him. He wanted to fuck her again and again while he was in New York, before he went back to the boring farm. They continued their anal ballet for another ten minutes before Julie finally got her rocks off. Julie had begun grinding her hips into the pillow that she lay on and throwing her ass up to meet his descending rod. Jim slowed his thrusts, wanting to catch his breath, and Julie just went on fucking herself on his near stationary prick. During the course of their lovemaking, Julie had moved her legs nearly together and Jim had moved his knees to straddle her thighs. Now he leaned back on his knees, letting his hands grip her straining waist as he looked down to watch her stuff her asshole again and again with his still member. She did that for about 30 seconds and then became flustrated. "Please, God, fuck me...fuck my ass hard!" Julie commanded as she swept her left hand back to grip his ass. There was an urgency in her voice and he knew she must be near her orgasm. "I will!...take it, Julie...ah, shit......fuck that ass up at me!" Jim said, getting caught up in her dirty language as he slid his hands up to grip her shoulders and began throwing his thick prick into her squirming butt with wild abandon. "OOOH....AAAHHH.....MMMMMMMMMMAAAAHHHHHH!" Julie's ass began jerking and her asshole clamped down hard on his flashing manhood. His sister's lover was getting off from his energetic ass fuck! He felt his own peak racing toward him then. Her tight, spasming rectum was begging for his own explosion. He gritted his teeth as he tried to delay it..he'd had the hottest sex of his life that evening and he didn't want it to end... he wanted to remember every detail....her tits wrapped around his dick....his cum splashing onto her neck.....her hot butt milking his ready-to-blow joystick. "UUUUUUUUUNNGGHHHH!" he bellowed as he slammed his cock deep one last time in Julie's undulating tush and began firing his second cumload of the night, "UUUNNGGH...UNNGGH....OOH, FUCCCKKK!" His dick twitched and jerked in her nasty hole as Julie purred in delight. "Mmmmm, I can feel your cum," Julie reported to her sweating teen lover as her ass muscles, back under her control after her orgasm, worked to drain every last drop of love from his deflating cockshaft. Finally both became still and Jim began massaging her back as she slumped forward on the bed. "You got off, right?" Jim asked. "Sure did," Julie said dreamily. "You were great...but I think you ought to get out of here now. Liz might be here soon." Jim looked at the clock and decided she was right. He could probably get it up again but it wasn't worth the risk of discovery. He pulled his prick from Julie's stretched out asshole and sat beside her. She made no move to get up, so he kissed the side of her face and got off the bed. "Hey," he heard her say and turned back to her. She had raised herself back up on her elbows. "I've got something planned for you tomorrow, stud...if you're interested?" "You know I am." "Good." she said, her voice full of the promise of more delightful sin. Jim went to bed that night like it was Christmas Eve.