#Open your third eye and embrace complexity or you will fail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkedstarlight · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter Twelve

Summary: With the New Year comes new changes: Azriel and Elain are now together, Nesta and Cassian have a moment, and someone new enters the mix. Notes: This was the longest I've gone without posting new content, but I'm back in the groove. I'm officially making Sundays my upload day, so look out for that! There will be a new chapter every week. I already have the next couple chapters written, and it will be a lot more consistent now. Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief mentions of PTSD and sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

January

It was the third week of the desolate, grey month of January. The snow arrived quickly and ruthlessly. The city of Boulder was coated in a thick layer of knee-deep snow, its surface glittering under the sun enough to blind a passerby. Nesta embraced the winter, but there was nothing more she hated than a frozen ground paired with a sunny sky. Going outside bundled in multiple layers only to return home a sweaty mess. It was a suffocating feeling, to be wearing a heavy coat under sunshine.

No, Nesta preferred the unforgiving version of the coldest season. She knew how to dress; she knew what to expect when she stepped outside. It was predictable. Easy.

With the New Year came new changes. To start, Elain and Azriel were now dating, which came as a surprise to no one. When Elain sidled up next to Nesta in the kitchen on New Year’s Day and bashfully told her that she and Azriel were officially together, Nesta just levelled her a look as if to say, No shit, Sherlock.

As much as she despised the fact that their lives were becoming inextricably connected with Feyre's little group, however, Nesta was happy for her sister. Azriel treated Elain like she walked on water. of course, in Nesta's mind, no one would ever be good enough for her sister. Azriel was just managing to wiggle his way over Nesta's impossibly high standards for Elain, the bastard.

He had been spending time at their apartment quite a bit. At first, he and Nesta didn’t speak much. They would both stare at their phones in silence when Elain went to the bathroom or checked on whatever was in the oven at the time.

It wasn’t until the day that Nesta returned home from work to see Azriel playing with Minx in the living room did they 'bond.' When Nesta made her way into the apartment, Azriel explained to her that Elain was switching over the laundry in the complex’s basement. She merely nodded, her piercing stare falling to Azriel's ankles where Minx was rubbing against. She could hear his purrs from where she stood. The fucking traitor.

Nesta watched them play before they began to talk about animals, which turned into shitting on Cassian (Azriel was most certainly joking, but Nesta’s jabs were 100% genuine), which then turned into complaining about the frequency of their little family dinners. Turns out Azriel isn't exactly a social butterfly but Nesta figured that out pretty quickly. When Elain returned with laundry basket in hand, she found Nesta showing off the tricks she’d taught Minx to Azriel, the latter of whom was quite impressed. And that’s how Nesta realized that she and Azriel had more in common than she would've guessed. They both preferred to be in the background, not drawing too much attention to themselves. To Nesta's delight, she also realized Azriel had just as sharp a tongue as she did. The only difference was he knew how to control himself. Although Nesta would never admit it, she could learn a thing or two from Azriel.

But all this was heavily dampened by the fact that Cassian kept worming his way into her life. She supposed it was normal to run into your neighbors, but she had a sneaking suspicion the man somehow memorized her entire schedule. Wherever she turned, he seemed to be there. The elevator was like their rendezvous spot. Nesta was tempted to take the staircase just to avoid him, but her stubborn ass refused to change a thing for him. Even if it was just two flights of stairs.

Cassian had caught her several times in the past weeks. She thought back to a few run-ins that she hadn’t managed to stop thinking about.

“It’s full,” Nesta said dryly, not bothering to look up from her phone. She knew who it was. Who else would go out of their way to enjoy her warm and welcoming presence?

Nesta was just getting back from a short shift she'd picked up at Rita’s. The elevator doors had been closing when Cassian’s foot shot out to stop them.

Cassian looked around at the empty elevator, his eyes finally landing on Nesta. “I think I can squeeze in.”

Nesta looked up from her phone to glare at him. He was wearing a maroon crew neck and medium wash jeans that were rolled up at the ankles. She spied a golden chain around his neck that just slightly peaked out of the sweater. She wondered if it was a cross. Was he religious?

Nesta caught herself before she could think more about it. She didn’t care; she had no interest in getting to know this man. And she knew the feeling was mutual.

She just cleared her throat and looked down at her phone once again, determined to ignore his presence.

Unfortunately, Cassian was just as determined to make his presence known.

Eyes glued to her screen, Nesta did her best to stay as still as possible as she felt Cassian walk into the elevator. She was standing at the back corner, practically a part of the wall herself. Instead of stopping where there was plenty of room, however, he kept walking until he was right next to her. He leaned back against the wall, and Nesta caught a whiff of his cologne. It was warm and fresh and purely male.

She clenched her fist. He smelled good.

She hated that he smelled good.

"Calculating something?" he asked quietly. Nesta detected the amusement in his voice and restrained herself from putting him in a chokehold.

But she followed his gaze that was looking at her phone screen. Brows furrowed, she too looked at the screen.

Fuck.

Nesta hadn't even realized she'd been staring at the calculator app this entire time. When Cassian had gotten into the elevator, she'd opened a random app, a last-ditch attempt at looking busy so he wouldn’t bother her. That plan had clearly failed.

And with her shit luck, she opened the fucking calculator app.

"Yep," she cleared her throat again, scrambling for something to say. "Just figuring out how much it would cost to hire a bodyguard. You see, I have this stalker -"

"Is he handsome?" Cassian feigned ignorance, his lips twitching upward.

Nesta gritted her teeth at his interruption. "No, he's actually - "

"Charming, rugged, good-looking?" Cassian ran his eyes up and down her body and whistled in astonishment. "Wow, you must really like this guy."

She was going to punch him in the gods-damn throat. “You’re an asshole.”

He just stood there smiling at himself, eyes sparkling with mischief. His dark hair was loose, falling at his shoulders. It looked as though he’d been running his hands through it all day. Nesta’s fingers twitched.

She could acknowledge that Cassian was a good-looking man. She wasn't blind, though she would never admit that to him. His head was big enough as is. That being said, there was no appeal beyond his thick hair and fit body. It was a shame, really. Not to mention that Nesta was unable to look at a man with anything other than cynicism after everything that happened with Tomas.

Nesta stopped herself. She didn't need to think about that right now.

Coming back to reality, Nesta realized she'd been blatantly staring at Cassian this entire time, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. He chuckled deeply and angled his body so he was fully facing her. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

Nesta crossed her arms and snorted. Classy.

“Unfortunately for you, my appetite for arrogant meatheads dissipated during college.”

“Oh?” Cassian repeated with a smirk that Nesta wanted to slap right off. “And pray tell, what’s on your menu now?”

“Just the sweet satisfaction of destroying a man’s masculinity.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back with laughter. Nesta rolled her eyes just as the elevator dinged. She took the opportunity and quickly raced for the doors.

He was still laughing when the doors closed.

Nesta inwardly groaned at the memory. She’d acted like a dolt, but at least she’d gotten the last word in.

The next time they bumped into each other, however, things weren’t quite as playful.

Nesta couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, Minx shooting her glares every time she moved. But sleep refused to come.

With a frustrated groan, she rolled to the side of the bed and checked her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

3:38am.

Fucking ridiculous.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. She’d been having nightmares nearly every night for the past few weeks, only managing to get about four hours of sleep at most. It was enough that she could function during the day and go to work without passing out. Nevertheless, it was exhausting.

She did her best to untangle herself from the comforter and get up without waking Minx. He was sleeping at the foot of the bed, his entire body stretched out like dough. As she got up, she gave him some love. He didn’t even budge; he was a heavy sleeper.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Rubbing her face, she padded out to the kitchen slowly and poured herself a glass of water. She drank it slowly as she leaned against the counter.

After fifteen of staring into space, Nesta made her way to the fridge and opened it, the soft light glowing on her face.

She stared into the fridge for another ten minutes.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta slowly padded back to her room and closed the door behind her. She lazily pulled her long hair into a messy updo. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her laundry bin. It was overflowing.

She checked the time again. 4:17am.

Fuck it, she thought to herself as she bent down to pick up the laundry basket.

Nesta heaved it into her arms, grabbed the detergent, and made her way down to the complex’s basement where the laundry room was. She was wearing a grey sweater that completely swallowed her body and baggy sweatpants. Her slippers were cat themed. She couldn't care less.

After dumping her dirty clothes into the washing machine and starting it, Nesta sat on top of the empty machine to the left of it. She crossed her legs in her lap and put her hands in her face.

Gods, when was this going to end?

She would almost prefer a nightmare over this. It was the silence that was insufferable. With nightmares, she woke up, stayed awake for a couple hours, and finally fell asleep once her body calmed. But this? She didn’t trust herself to be alone with her thoughts for the entire night. It was never a good thing.

She was just sick of it. The exhaustion, the darkness, the loneliness. Her father’s death still gnawed at her every day. She hadn’t summoned the bravery to read those damn journals. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she’d ever be.

And then Tomas. That horrible memory still surfaced several times a day. She couldn’t shake it; she never felt safe, even when she was in her bedroom. She hated it. Hated the lack of control, the loss of strength. She felt powerless. And without that, what did she even have?

The sound of footsteps disrupted her from her thoughts. Her head shot up as a body filled the doorway to the laundry room. It was Cassian.

He, too, looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He looked comfortable in his Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and dark joggers. In his hand was a dryer sheet.

He stared at her. She stared back.

Neither of them said anything as he walked over to the washing machine to the right of the one her clothes were in. Nesta watched with half-lidded eyes as Cassian switched over his load of laundry to the dryer, swiping his card to pay for the cycle.

Once his clothes were tumbling around in the dryer, he straightened and faced her where she sat.

Nesta couldn't put her finger on it, but he seemed different. Not because it was the middle of the night and he was tired. No, there was something else. She just didn't know what.

“Can’t sleep?” he broke the silence, voice rough with exhaustion.

Nesta pursed her lips and nodded, looking away. She expelled a shaky breath. “You?”

Cassian seemed slightly taken aback by her question, but he hid it well. He took a few steps closer. There were still a couple feet between them, but now he was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

“Me neither," he murmured, his hazel eyes capturing her grey ones. "Sometimes I don't even bother trying anymore."

They both got quiet. Nesta didn’t know what to say; his vulnerability scared her.

It was strange. To have a conversation with Cassian without banter, without insults being thrown back and forth. Nesta didn’t know what to think of it.

"I could be deported any day," he admitted, so quietly that Nesta almost didn't hear. Then he added, his voice breaking slightly, "I don't want to go."

Nesta watched him as he looked to the dirty tiles of the laundry room floor. Her lips parted slightly and before she realized what she was doing, she was talking.

"I have nightmares every night. Today was the first time in two months I haven't had one. A strange part of me would rather have horrible dreams instead of this silence... and that scares me."

Cassian was staring at her now, his eyes flaring. He looked like he wanted to move closer, but he remained where he stood. He simply nodded at the piece of herself she'd just shared with him.

I see you, is what he seemed to wordlessly say to her.

A strange feeling of deja vu washed over Nesta as they looked at each other. She couldn't place it, but this - talking with Cassian - felt familiar, like it had happened -

The washing machine next to Nesta dinged, signaling that her clothes had finished. She pulled her gaze from Cassian's and hopped off to switch her clothes over.

Cassian merely watched. Then, they both waited in a comfortable silence until their laundry finished drying. Cassian's finished first, but he waited until Nesta's did to walk her back up. They didn't share a word, but something intangible transpired between them.

And even though Nesta still wasn't able to fall asleep, the silence felt a bit less scary the rest of the night.

---------------------------

“Are you excited for the semester to start next week?”

Nesta froze from where she stood washing the dishes when Elain posed the question.

Next week? That couldn’t be right. Nesta counted off the days in her head.

To her horror, Elain was correct.

It was nearing the end of January. She knew she’d had to return to Pryth U after winter break, but Nesta thought she’d have longer. Longer to get over what had happened, to figure out how exactly to avoid him on campus. She thought by now… she thought she wouldn’t be scared anymore.

She was wrong.

“Nesta?”

Nesta peeled her eyes away from the soapy knife that she was clutching tightly in her hand to find Elain peering over at her with a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Nesta forced out, despite every fiber of her body screaming otherwise. “Can’t wait.”

She continued throughout the morning as normal as she could be, even though she was shaking. When noon hit, Nesta called out to Elain who was lounging in the living room waiting for Azriel to come over.

"I'm think I’m going to go to the gym." She willed her voice not to shake.

"Okay, have fun!" Elain exclaimed from the other room.

Nesta had purchased a gym membership to Illyria last week, a pathetic effort at getting out of the apartment more often. She hadn't gone once yet. And either way, her only real plan was to use the hot tub. She couldn't remember the last time she exercised, and she had no intention of changing that.

After getting dressed and grabbing her bag, Nesta headed out.

The drive was quick; the gym was only a couple miles away. Once Nesta parked, she made her way inside the complex.

She forced a tight smile as she approached the woman who was working the front desk, scanning her membership card and continuing forward. Her mind was racing, and she prayed that there wouldn't be many people there. It was a Tuesday afternoon. She doubted it.

Nesta was weaving her way past the space dedicated to boxing to get to the locker rooms when she heard a familiar voice ahead of her.

She instinctively turned her head to see who it was, only to find Cassian standing next to a punching bag, his face breaking out into a grin as he talked to a very beautiful woman.

She was small, several inches shorter than Nesta. Her copper chestnut hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and her hands were on her hips as she attentively listened to Cassian speak. She seemed captivated by whatever he was saying, probably some bullshit meant to charm her.

Nesta didn't think twice as she discreetly did a 180 and started walking the opposite way, desperate to avoid him especially after the night in the laundry room. That'd been the last time she'd seen him, and she didn't want to talk about it. Not with him or anyone else. Even though she'd opened up to him, that didn't mean they were friendly. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She was determined to keep him at arm's length now. Nesta had cursed herself the morning after those events had transpired. She was so stupid to tell him what she did. It was just because she had been severely sleep-deprived, and she had felt bad for him. It wouldn't happen again.

So, she slowly slinked away, praying to the Gods that he didn't notice her.

Her plan was going smoothly until she heard her name.

"Nesta?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Fuck.

She brought herself to a painstaking stop and turned around to see Cassian jogging over to her.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached. He seemed cautious, like he didn't want to scare her off. "I didn't realize you went to Illyria."

"I don't," Nesta replied quickly. He waited for her to say more, but she just blinked up at him.

"Well," he drawled, looking back at the woman he had been talking with. "I'm just about to start a training session." Ah, he works here. She wondered what he did in his free time. "Do you want to join? The first session is free."

Nesta looked to where the woman was methodically wrapping her hands in what looked like Ace bandages. She was more stunning than Nesta originally thought. She wouldn't be at all surprised if Cassian hooked up with his trainees. Especially if they looked like that.

"No, I'm - "

But Cassian wasn't having it. "Gwyn!" he called out, gesturing her to come to where they stood.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nesta hissed, her heart rate spiking as she watched the woman, Gwyn, make her way toward them.

Cassian ignored her, continuing to smile. The bastard.

As Gwyn made her way over, Nesta did her best to put on a friendly face. She was pretty sure she was just grimacing.

"Hi! I'm Gwyn," she introduced herself with a bubbly voice. She looked Nesta up and down. "You must be Nesta. I've heard a lot about you."

Nesta threw Cassian a sideway glare. He'd been talking about her? No doubt complaining about her horrible attitude.

Cassian winked at the look she gave him before turning to Gwyn. "Gwyn, why don't you tell Nesta a little bit about what we do while I go get some equipment from the back? Then we can get started."

Nesta opened her mouth to object, but Cassian was gone before she could even blink. Groaning inwardly, she reluctantly faced Gwyn who was smiling softly at her.

"Well, I assume you know that Cassian is a trainer," she started with an awkward laugh.

Nesta stared at her.

Gwyn continued to smile despite Nesta's coldness. "He actually created this program, Wings of Resilience, a couple years ago. He offers discounted training lessons for people who deal with PTSD. It's helped a lot of people. Cassian mainly teaches kickboxing, but in the past he's taken in some older veterans who aren't really able to do high cardio activities, so he guides them through yoga practices. Everyone here adores him," Gwyn giggles and leans in. "Especially the older ladies who come in every week for their exercise class."

She kept talking, but Nesta was no longer listening. The room suddenly felt tiny, the air stifling. What Gwyn told her triggered her fight or flight instincts. She didn’t know why, she just knew she couldn’t breathe, and if she didn’t leave now, she was going to have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of a room full of people.

“Are you okay?”

Nesta’s eyes shot up from her shaking hands to see Gwyn take a cautious step forward, her eyes wide with something that resembled concern. Nesta nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Gwyn and Cassian - they were such good people. How did they even pretend to give a shit about someone like Nesta?

"I-I need to go,” Nesta blurted, eyes scanning the room for the nearest exit.

"I know it's a lot to consider," Gwyn said quietly. She looked down at her feet. "But it's really helped me."

No, no, no.

Nesta didn't even realize she had started running until her lungs were burning from the exertion of energy. She ran and didn’t stop. She caught a flash of someone – Cassian’s – face as she sprinted past the lobby and outside, but she didn't look back. She couldn't.

The cold air was harsh against her lungs. She welcomed the burning sensation, gasping for more oxygen. Before Nesta could comprehend what was happening, she was spilling her guts on the sidewalk until she was dry heaving.

Passersby looked at her with disgust as they walked past, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care.

When there was nothing more to come out, Nesta wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened herself. Every muscle in her body screamed. How she was able to stand, she had no idea. Nesta beelined to her car, locked the door, and speeded out of the parking lot before anyone could run after her.

------------------------------

That night, Nesta received a text from an unknown number.

Nesta, I asked Cassian for your phone number. I hope I didn’t overstep your boundaries. I just wanted to let you know that there will be a spot here if you want it. Please think about it. Gwyn

Her first instinct was to delete the text, cancel her membership to Illyria, and never face Gwyn - or Cassian for that matter - again. There was no way she was going to show her face in that gym again.

But despite everything, Nesta found herself saving Gwyn’s number into her contacts before she fell asleep.

------------------------------

tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @drielecarla @liquifyme @gisellefigue08 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @loysydark @stardelia @sayosdreams @maastrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thewayshedreamed @booksstorm @laylaameer01 @rainbowcheetah512

#nessian #bittersweet #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #my writing

22 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 11

Bit cliche, but I love it.

Part 11: Acknowledgement

One Week Later…

I failed; and now here I lie in the darkness, banished to the furthest corner of my mind while Sephiroth uses me. I’m a terrible excuse for a hero, unable to vanquish my greatest foe for a third time. Now the planet will perish, taking what I love most with it. I don’t know what I hate more, the fact that I couldn’t win or the fact that I couldn’t get over Cloud. I tried everything to keep him at arm’s length, not to let him get to me, but even in the end all I want is to see him one last time.

The echo travels forever to reach me, but the tone is familiar. It sounds again, a little closer. “Stop!”

You shouldn’t have come here… My thoughts are so heavy and bogged.

“You are not his puppet!”

Just let me die. I’m so tired of fighting.

“You can’t give up now!” Flashes of Cloud’s face flicker in my mind. “Are you gonna let him win?!”

There’s nothing I can do about it. I tried. I failed.

“Are you gonna let some maniac with a god complex beat you again?!” I can see him, brandishing his sword, holding back mine. “Are gonna let him tear us apart again?!”

Those words spark something. Cloud?

I shove him back but he skids to a halt. My legs rush for him. He readies his sword, but a thrown khopesh ties it up and pulls it out of the way. The second is prepared to strike him down from above.

“BECAUSE YOU OWE ME! NO EXCEPTIONS!”

My arm swings forward; however, instead of cutting through the blonde, my hand flips the blade, sending it right through my stomach. His words gave me just enough of a shock to break through.

“_____!”

The pain is enough to bring my sanity back and also bring me down. Knees hitting the ground, I watch the tears drip into the dirt.

“Look at me. Look at me!” Cloud’s hands against my face bring my gaze up. The look of worry in his eyes grips at my heart. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

His forehead rests against mine. “I know. I know it wasn’t you. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna end this and we’re gonna get you some help.” Carefully, the man lowers me to my side. “Just don’t go dying on me okay,” he warns, pulling the belts from his waist.

“I don’t know if I can promise that.” My voice breaks.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls. I wince as he tightens the first belt just below my weapon. The second goes just above, placing pressure on the injury without removing the protruding object. “Just hang in there. You’re gonna be fine.” His voice softens, tightening the vice in my chest. “You have to be.”

“Cloud…”

“No! We made a bet and you lost! You owe me one favor and you’re not allowed to die! No exceptions! Say it!” The man is determined with a hint of fear in his voice. “Say it!”

I swallow the sob threatening to come up. “No exceptions.”

His gaze softens, full of the love I’ve been missing for so long. “I’ll be back soon.”

With that, Cloud stands and heads deeper into the Northern Cave. I break down crying. This is the end and I just lied to him. I want so badly to call him back, have him here in my last moments, but I can just watch him walk away from me for the last time.

Why did it have to be now of all times? Why do you remember at the very end?

Alone, in mourning, I slip away from the conscious world.

~~~~~

“Hey, you’re slacking.”

“Huh?” I’m blinded by the white world around me.

“You’re slacking. Come on. You can’t be here when you’re supposed to be taking care of that legacy of mine.”

A pair of boots stops in front of me. Following them up, I find a friend I haven’t seen in years and it breaks my heart.

“Zack.” I take a step forward, throwing my arms around his neck. Laughing, he returns the gesture. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

I lean back to get a better look at his face. “Wait…are you…”

His weary smile is answer enough. “Yeah.”

That single word is enough to break my composure. “I’m sorry.”

Zack pulls me back in. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Besides, I’m not alone.”

“What?”

“I hope we don’t get any other visitors.” Her voice rings in my ears like an angel’s. Whirling around, I find the flower girl standing there with a serene smile on her face. I can’t help embracing her just as I had Zack.

“No no no! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I blather on.

She giggles. “Why are you blaming yourself? Thanks to you, Cloud and the others could save the world.”

My mind jolts. “Cloud…He’s going to be so upset when he finds me.”

Zack folds his arms. “Well you did let him carry on with warped memories.”

“Not that…” I let my gaze fall to the flowers around us. “I told him I’d hold on but I just couldn’t.”

“But aren’t you still holding on?” My gaze snaps back to my friend. A grin lights up his face. “Wait, you thought just because you’re here that you’re dead?” He laughs like I’ve just told a punch line to some joke.

I hesitate, my gaze zipping between the two. “But the both of you are…So I must be…”

“Nope.” A hand ruffles my hair. “You’re just here for a visit. I told you you were slacking. That chocobo is worried sick down there waiting for you to wake up.”

When I hesitate in responding, Aerith leans closer with her signature, sunshine smile. “Just open your eyes.” I dwell on her answer. “Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble watching the waving pair fade to darkness.

~~~~~

I wake up feeling sore but somehow better. The weight in my chest, that’s been there for so long, is gone. The fact I’m alive, that the world still exists, and my future is brighter, it all brings tears to my eyes.

This is a hospital room. I’ve got an IV and blood bag in my arm and a heart monitor disrupting my peaceful silence. I contemplate doing something, ultimately being too lazy to do so and instead rest a bit longer.

A light knock wakes me. The door opens before I can answer, revealing a blonde that brings tears to my eyes. He looks exhausted. His blank expression holds as he sets a bag on an empty chair and sits in the one beside my bed; he must’ve been doing this for a while. The emptiness instantly replaced by shock when he realizes I’m watching him. I’m so overwhelmed with relief that I can’t even say anything, fearing my voice will fail. Back on his feet, he’s leaning over me, arms threatening to choke me with his face buried in my hair. I managed to hold on, but when I hear the man sniffling, I fall apart.

“I don’t know how I ever could’ve forgotten you,” he murmurs, spurring my sobbing. Finally, he leans back to get a look at my face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You thought you were Zack and something about even looking at me freaked you out. I was afraid that if I reminded you, you might break.” Hands to my face, I try to slow the flow of tears. “Even if I reminded you there was no guarantee you’d accept it.”

“You should’ve told me.”

I mutter bitterly, “Why? So you’d have another reason to hate me?”

A chilly hand slips around my face, guiding my gaze to meet his, and he’s very serious. “Because you never should’ve had to deal with that on your own. Even if you had to beat it into me, I would’ve believed you eventually.” Sighing, his hand retreats, instead sliding through his golden hair. “It made more sense than the nonsense I was telling everyone.”

Cloud tells me about what happened and why he claimed to be Zack; of course Shinra would be behind the whole thing. At least it gives me some closure about what happened to him and Zack, but I have to wonder why I didn’t become a test subject too. I have to chalk it up to not being discovered by Hojo after the Mako carried me away.

“So what’s everybody doing now?”

“Going home.”

“What does that mean for you?”

He shrugs. “It means where ever you wanna go.”

My mind freezes and I’m kind of pissed that the heart monitor betrays the slight pace change of my heart. Even though his blue eyes travel to the machine that’s quickly becoming an enemy, I try to ignore it. “Why?”

His attention returns to me. “Because there are things we need to work out.” His hand takes mine and I curse that machine again. “Including what we’re going to do about us.”

That’s an iffy subject I’ve been arguing with myself over for a long time now. “I don’t know.” He frowns. “We’re a far stretch from the people we used to be.”

His thumb draws soothing circles against the back of my hand. “Even if we are different people, maybe we still fit together.”

I emit a puff of laughter. “Your tragedies to compliment mine?”

Cloud’s deep wondering lightens somewhat. “More like I’m pretty sure I’m still in love with you.” Fire surges up my spine, burning in my ears and bleeding across my face. I’m about to throw the heart monitor out the window. A soft chuckle escapes the blonde. Slightly aggressively, I reach into my gown, ripping the little patches off. “Hey hey! Be careful,” the blonde scolds through a grin. I stick my tongue out at him but he’s none deterred. “I forgot how cute you look when you blush.”

And I forgot just how easy it was for him to make me blush.

But maybe he was right; people grow and change, whether together or apart. He’s not the Cloud I fell in love with, but perhaps that doesn’t mean I can’t love who he is now. I was focused on what I lost and terrified of having it flaunted in front of me only to be torn away again; it probably would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life. But he remembers now, he can relate and understand; I don’t have to hide anything from him anymore. The conversations I thought we’d never have now seem far less frightening.

“So is that no?”

Feeling the lightest I’ve felt in a very long time, I let a pure, true smile take over. “Get me out of here and then we’ll talk about where we’re going next.”

#cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #fem!reader

47 notes · View notes

wakaoujisenhime · 4 years

Note

Can you make a part 2 on the levi angst? like maybe a few months later and they still haven't reconciled because levi believes the reader doing well without him then the reader gets badly injured and u can decide what happens next :))

A/N: Of course I can! I actually got a second request from @/centerhabit and even a third one from @/blancc-bunny to finish it so I hope you guys enjoy this happy and fluffy continuation! ੧(❛▿❛✿)੭

Tags: Levi x reader ✅ SFW ✅ slight angst ✅ fluff ✅

image/art source: DeviantArt [art by Bev-Nap]

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

By my side - Levi x reader

A few months had passed since you had broken up with Levi and you genuinely felt better. Your small inferiority complex had subsided and thanks to Hanji you felt like everyday was a small adventure on its own. It kinda pained you to admit that you felt much safer by her side than when you were alongside Levi’s squad.

But if you felt that much better...then what was that empty feeling you couldn’t get rid of?

The answer was simple, but you didn’t want to admit it since you felt like you had no right to actually mourn what had happened. You were the one who wanted to end it all after all. Levi begged you not to do it and tried apologizing to you countless of times, but no matter what he did or said, you just shook your head and remained silent.

“(Y/N)! Are you even listening?”

Hanji’s cheerful and loud voice interrupted your train of thoughts, making you realize that as of right now the two of you were sharing a table in the Survey Corps’ lunchroom while having a small meal before starting your day.

“Sorry Hanji, I was just thinking about something. Would you mind running that by me again?“

With a small pout on her lips she obliged and answered: “So, as I was saying...Erwin asked us to go out today and examine a titan they caught a day ago.“

It was hard to not get hyped up for the mission while observing the big grin on her face.Instead of answering, you nodded multiple times, excited to finally be able to go out again which just resulted into you being teased by your comrade ending with the two of you laughing loudly attracting all kind of looks from the cadets.

But there was one look in particular that differed from any other.

Levi...

He looked at you from the corners of his eyes while silently drinking his tea. Seeing you smile like that made him feel relieved, he had always known that a smile suited you way more than anything else, but knowing that you were able to smile like that because he wasn't a part of your life anymore only made him feel worse.

Every time he looked at you, Levi couldn't help but remember the fight you guys had back in his office. The moment you jumped at him and began punching his face, he was quite startled and even if he could have protected himself he decided against it, knowing that you weren't that type of person to randomly throw punches without a good reason.

After you had broken up with him, he himself was quite depressed and even if he tried hiding it it was taking a toll on him. It all started with small mistakes like being slightly late or forgetting to tie his shoelaces, but it all took a turn to the worse when his mistakes began getting in the way of his missions. Erwin had then called him to his office, he didn't ask any questions since he already knew what the reason behind Levi's change was. All he did was promise to tell him everything what happened around and with you in exchange for Levi reverting back to his old self.

That idea seemed good at first and it even motivated him to a degree, but after some weeks he realized that he might have been better off not knowing anything. He was in constant worry for you and gruesome scenarios just kept on entering his head and dominating his thoughts, the worst part of it all was that up until now you've only been on missions inside of the walls, but never outside...not up until now.

Yesterday Erwin had left him a small note on his desk that said Hanji and you would be leaving the walls to examine a titan, he almost fainted then and there but the thought that he'd see at least see you one more time before that made him worry less.

Suddenly Hanji's loud voice interrupted his train of thoughts. She was standing right besides his table, wide grin on her face and next to her was none other than you...smiling. Smiling? Yes, you were smiling. At him no less. Even if this wasn't your most brightest smile, his heart was still thumping hard against his chest, but thanks to his permanent poker face he was able to hide his excitement quite well from the both of you.

"What do you want shitty glasses?"

The woman completely ignored his harsh comment and proceeded telling him about your mission. Not only was your former capitan good in hiding his emotions but he was also pretty good in acting. The whole time Hanji talked he simply nodded and took several glances at you which you failed to notice. She couldn't finish her entire repertoire, thanks to Mike who came over urging you two to get yourselves ready for the departure.

You whispered a quiet 'goodbye' to your former capitan, but before you could follow your superior, Levi suddenly grabbed your wrist. His hold was firm, but also gentle at the same time, it made you unintentionally remember the times he had held you and that only caused your heart rate to quicken.

"(Y/N)...please be careful"

His gentle voice didn't help you with your embarrassment, the only thing it did was worsen it. You refused to look into his face so you just nodded.

Levi sighed, letting go of your wrist as walked past you. The only thing you could do was close your eyes, praying that he didn't see how red your face was.

——

How could this happen?

All you did was turn around in order to look at the countless notes Hanji had thrown on the ground. Who could’ve thought that the Titan would use that short moment to actually grab you?

A small shriek had left your mouth when you felt the enormous hand tightly wrap around your body. Fortunately Erwin had sent you out with some soldiers (just in case) and they didn’t hesitate to come to your aid before the titan squeezed the life out of you. You were saved quickly, but you didn’t come out of that situation unharmed.

——

“What the hell happened?”

Levi was fuming.

The moment he saw Mike and some other soldier carry you on a stretcher, he dropped everything he was working on and was running after them asking question after question, managing to convince Mike to explain everything that had happened.

Seeing humanity’s strongest soldier sitting in front of the nursing room completely hunched over, face buried in his hands was something no one would’ve dared to even dream about so seeing exactly that was beginning to make some soldiers question either their vision or their sanity.

But Levi couldn’t care less about all of that, right now the only thing he cared about was your health. He still had a lot of questions for Mike, but Levi figured that he’d like to hear the rest from the doctors. He didn’t want any motivational lies...all he wished for right now was the hard truth.

“Captain Ackerman, our work’s done.”

Without looking up the captain just let his hands sink and he stood up, eyes still fixated on his shoes. He didn’t utter a single word, but the doctors knew what he wanted so they provided him with exactly that.

“Everything’s fine now. Luckily (Y/N) was brought here quite quickly so we were able to prevent any fatal injury that would’ve resulted from her broken rib.”

The tension immediately left Levi’s body after he took a deep breath, eyes finally facing forward. Once again words weren’t needed, the soldier just walked towards the nursing room’s closed door and opened it as quietly as he could.

——

You slowly came back to your senses due to a sharp pain in your chest, your whole body felt like it had been hit by a gigantic truck and when you recalled what actually got you in this situation in the first place, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

But there was something else besides pain. You felt a gentle warmth envelop your left hand, making you wonder if that was just your imagination.

So you slowly began opening your eyes and the first thing you saw was the familiar ceiling of the nursery room. With slow movements you turned your head to the left and what you saw stunned you.

The person who was holding your hand and gently circled your knuckles with his fingers was Levi. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts since he still hadn’t noticed you glancing at his profile.

“Levi...”

The sound of your raspy voice immediately made him turn his head and look at you, worry contorting his normally calm facial features.

“(Y/N)...you’re awake. Oh thank god”

Seeing him wrap both of his hands around your own while silently whispering ‘thank you’ multiple times made your heart ache and you could feel how some tears were slowly making your eyes glassy.

“I can’t do this anymore (Y/N). Every single day I’m worried sick when I hear that you’ll be on a mission without having me by your side and today I even warm you to be careful and look what happens! Your broken rib could’ve perforated your lungs or even worse your heart! What would I have done if that happened, huh?!”

Levi raising his voice like that was something you had never seen happening and additionally to that he himself looked like he was about to cry and that made you feel even sadder.

You watched him completely lose his calm composure, watched his poker face being substituted by countless other expressions you had never seen, watched his whole body tremble like a leaf that was being shaken by the wind, watched how his lips moved quicker than ever before and the only thing you could do was slowly get up and embrace him.

Even if your chest still hurt you just ignored the pain and held him tighter against you. His trembling body began calming down until he finally wrapped his arms as carefully as he could around your body to show you that he was now calm enough and that it was fine to let him go, but you refused.

“You’re being unfair (Y/N), embracing me like that and then refusing to let me go. How am I supposed to forget you under these circumstances?”

“Said the person who waited for me to wake up.”

He placed his forehead in the crack of your neck and sighed in defeat, you on the other hand just giggled and gently caressed his back. Somewhere deep inside of you you had missed that warm feeling of his embrace.

“(Y/N)...I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you. Since our fight I’ve been thinking nonstop about you and the things you said to me, made me realize that it was completely wrong of me to use you as my punching bag and I regret it...I really regret it. I even thought that it really might be better for you to not be by my side since I saw how much more cheerful you were compared to back then, but please let me be selfish about one thing. I want you- no...I want us to be back together like before, laugh with each other like before, spend time together like before and most importantly...love each other like before. P-Please...allow me to change everything I did wrong by myself so that I can make you happy again.”

He had no idea just how much it pained you to find out his true feelings, but you were more overjoyed to actually find out that he still loved and wanted you back as much as you wanted him. So you decided to answer him by simply kissing his lips, letting the kiss do all the talking for you, Levi afraid that this would be your last kiss just cupped your face and returned it with the same passion.

When you wanted to separate yourself from him, the man simply whispered a low ‘one more time’ and continued kissing you until his and your lungs gave out.

It was now your turn to answer him, but first you had to catch your breath while he simply continued kissing your face and neck.

“Levi, you have always been on my mind, even after our fight, but I kept on thinking that I had absolutely no right to mourn since I was the one suggesting a breakup. I realized just how lonely I felt without you by my side, but I tried to mask it with fake smiles and laughter, hoping that it would be easier for me to let go of you..but I just couldn’t. And no Levi...I’m not going to allow you to change yourself on your own.”

The man didn’t know if he should be happy or sad since your last statement gave him mixed feelings, but the wide smile you showed him was answer enough.

“You are going to change yourself while standing...by my side.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fluff #aot fluff #snk angst #aot angst #snk scenarios #aot scenarios #levi x reader #━𝚂𝙽𝙺 #━𝙰𝙾𝚃 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #centerhabit #blancc-bunny

91 notes · View notes

gvldntrbl · 3 years

Text

&&. cauldron above, ( geneva d'amati tulloch ) was just spotted in the fae lands — word has it ( she ) is/are affiliated with ( dawn court ). ( she ) is a(n) ( 83 / appears 31 ) year old ( high fae ). it’s been said that ( she ) resembles ( logan browning ). ( she ) has been said to be ( creative & clever ) but also quite ( candid & amiable ). ( she ) is currently serving as ( custom clothier ). @ahqstart

BASICS

Name: Geneva D’Amati Tulloch Nicknames/Alias: Gen, Genny, Eva, Skye (close family) Face Claim: Logan Browning Age: 83 / appears 31 Gender: Female Sexuality: Pansexual Species: High Fae Rank: Custom Clothier, Owner of D’Amati House of Fashion (Lumenopolis); Dawn Court

PERSONALITY

Geneva reminds one of the first glimmer of sunlight after a starless night. Or a literal breath of fresh air. There’s a captivating sense about her. The curiosity that she has about the world reflects itself heavily in her work. Since childhood, a favorite inquiry of hers is two worded. Why? Or why not?

A proper child of Dawn, Geneva’s more inclined to relate to the arts. While her siblings and friends felt drawn to painting, music or literature - she hearkened the call of fashion. Specifically, the thin grasps of ideals and designs that ultimately culminated in its creation. As the youngest child of an adept merchant and negotiator, Geneva’s interest in design and fashion were indulged. Even encouraged.

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Celestia D’Amati Tulloch (mother - deceased), Lorenzo D’Amati (adoptive father - alive; merchant in dawn court), Jacques DuBois (biological father - alive; duke of night court) Siblings/Family: Two older siblings from her parents. Geneva is the baby of the family. Assumed unknown siblings from Enzo’s side.

Spouse: N/A Current Partner/Mate: N/A Current Allies: Whichever court(s) is an ally/are allies of Dawn Enemies: Whichever court(s) is an enemy/are enemies of Dawn

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Blue Distinguishing Marks/Fun Facts: Geneva’s hair and fashion sense are the most noticeable, depending on the day. Geneva is fluent in Italian and Gaelic. She’s learning Arabic with hopes to open a second boutique in the Golden City at Day Court.

BIOGRAPHY

Geneva carried the two names of her family out of pride, love and respect. Her mother, Celestia Tulloch was a high fae from an old family within dawn. Not one for politics - instead the Tulloch clan were known for the artists they produced. Of which, Celestia continued the tradition. It was how she met Lorenzo D’Amati, Geneva’s father, an immensely charming lesser fae merchant whose nature aided greatly in his success. Born and raised in Dawn Court, Geneva understood complex ideas as simple. Such as the ease and normality upon which her parents open marriage was presented. While Celestia and Enzo were in love - it did not hinder the couple from indulging in others. From time to time. Which was why Geneva gave no merit to the whispers she’d hear when her appearance was compared to Enzo’s. Or better yet, the older siblings that her parents had before her. Not that children born of their parents’ lovers were taboo. They were not. At least in Geneva’s experience.

Geneva only heeded the rumors when her magic of daydreaming and dream walking failed to reveal itself. The young fae’s wings and heart matched her home court. But appeared that her magic did not. It was a worrisome time. Geneva being unable to fully feel a part of her home. The choice to blend in and join her friends in developing and progressing their illusory magic did not exist. The rite of passage to dream walk with her friends eluded her. And the magic of her siblings, of her mother and ancestors, it seemed had denied her. Truly, Geneva felt like an imposter. A high fae without magic was well... essentially human. Regardless of the wings. It was during that time that Geneva designed more, created more pieces of fashions, in an effort to make sense of her life. To be able to understand something. From this, the idea for the D’Amati House of Fashion arose.

Until the shadows began to move. Literally. From her own imagination, Geneva fashioned dark creatures at night. While she was born and raised in dawn, it seemed that she was a child of night. Only when both Celestia and Lorenzo sat Geneva down did she learn the nature of her father. ...Not Enzo. Another high fae from night court. While the animosity between their courts crest and waned, it seemed the passions between that of Celestia and her un-named lover from night court had not. And thus, Geneva was made. The news was surprising. Even moreso when Geneva learned that she could not learn the name of her father. As it was not time. A private tutor was sent for and secretly, Geneva learned how to develop her magic.

For a time, it seemed that was all that encompassed her life. Fashion and magic. The two hand in hand. One embraced in the light, the other hidden away in the night. Finally, Geneva was given his name. Better yet, Celestia dream walked with Geneva. Something her mother had done times before. But it was different, that time. She revealed his face to Geneva, sparkling blue eyes that she’d recognize anywhere for they were her own. ‘You’ve always asked why I called you, Skye.’ Celestia shared. ‘The answer to your question is tri-fold. One is what you’ve always heard, that you are my little sky. Two, that your eyes match its color. And the third is that your eyes are his.’ Unbeknownst to Geneva, that would be the last time she dream walked with Celestia. The highfae had grown ill and, finally at peace with whatever awaited her, Celestia shared one final truth with Geneva. Her father’s name. She wanted her daughter to have all the love available to her from those that could give it. It was why she waited so long, Geneva learned. The timing, according to Celestia, had not been right. But now was. It seemed the young fae had another father to find. Or... rather to learn.

#ahqintro #intro post: geneva d'amati tulloch

4 notes · View notes

staytheb · 4 years

Text

You Live Here, Too?

Pairing: GOT7′s Mark x OC [Linna] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff, slight angst Word Count: 2,050 Summary: It’s been two years since Linna and Mark last saw one another after their breakup. They meet again when Linna tries to enter her apartment, but it’s really Mark’s in her slightly tipsy state.

Warning: semi-proofread. curse words. lol

hello! this piece is actually a re-work from my other side blog with NPC’s Yanjun titled Nice To Meet You. i re-did it for my own piece of mind and to re-do things from that side blog to fit this current blog. anyways, this is like a sequel to LA Confidential, but you don’t really have to read that one to get this one. also, to each their own on how they do their relationship, this was just fitting for me to end it on a better term than what i had previously... plus my sister has been wanting a part two and this one came through lol but yeah, i’m terrible with titles, too. okay happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Linna staggered down the hallway of her apartment floor after stepping out of the elevator. She normally didn't get drunk unless she knew that one of her friends would take care of her, but tonight she needed a drink and had one too many. Her friends made sure she arrived into her complex safely and that she was coherent enough to make it the rest of the way up on her own. Feeling the slight headache coming on, Linna clumsily, but hurried down the long hallway until she reached her apartment's door. She pressed the four digit code, but it didn't work. Believing it to be her drunken state, Linna tried again, but the code failed.

"I know the code can't be wrong unless Serena changed it and forgot to tell me." Linna muttered in frustration.

Linna recently moved into the building with her sister after securing a place together a month ago. She just didn't get why she was having issues now as Linna dialed Serena's number and waited for her sister to pickup. Just as Linna heard Serena's voice, the sound cut off soon afterwards. Linna frowned while gazing at her phone and seeing that the battery ran out. She double checked and sighed in agitation that her phone had to die on her at this crucial time. Inhaling slowly and exhaling a moment later, Linna steadily stared at the nine-numbered key pad. She slowly, but surely pressed the right buttons. The pass-code failed once again.

"Seriously? What the fuck, man?"

Linna groaned angrily as she could feel hot tears build up. She bang against the door in hopes that Serena was home. Feeling a bit woozy, Linna leaned her body against the cool surface and rested her head sleepily onto the door. She hoped that her sister would open the door soon. A moment later the door opened and Linna fell in to the arms that didn't belong to Serena. It was her ex-boyfriend, Mark, she hadn't seen in nearly two years after their breakup due to his infidelity. Mark instinctively caught Linna in his arms as his eyes widened upon their unexpected situation. Linna hadn't taken notice of his presence and just stayed like that unaware of her situation.

"Are you okay?" Mark simply asked a second later wondering what he should do.

Unfortunately for Mark the innocent question opened a dam and Linna burst with all of her pent up tears and emotions exploding.

"No, I'm not okay!" She cried before ranting.

"Nothing's fucking okay. Life sucks. The owner of my job is a fuckin' dick and a cheapskate who gives two shit for his employees and just worries about financial aspects. My general manager is a two-face bitch who won't hesitate to throw someone under the bus to save her own ass, but yet she'll take all the credit for something she did not do. All of my colleagues can't do shit without being told to do something, especially the upper management who are all supposed to work with me and not against me."

Linna let out a heavy sigh before finishing out her rant.

"I hate being an assistant general manager that they still treat like a regular worker, but still expect so much things from me even though they micro-manage me. Like I know so much more than they do and still know how to keep things professional, but they see me as nothing more than some lower employee they can do whatever with. Ugh, all these motherfuckin' idiots think it's easy being in my position and that I don't do shit, but yet always depend on me to handle their fuck ups without actually thinking."

Linna comfortably leaned against Mark, but had still not recognized her current situation. Mark just let his ex-girlfriend rant and do her thing not really sure how to go about their current situation.

"Damn, do I hate stupid people." Linna complained while speaking in a tired tone. "I really wanna quit, but I need the job to make money. I wished they would realize that I'm important individual with feelings and have so much potential to offer. I just wished they realized that without me they wouldn't be where they are right now because they still can't fuckin' operate the system on their own without blowing up my phone left and right to answer obvious questions."

Linna positioned her face against Mark's chest and let the tears continued to run.

"Why can't they use their own brains to actually assess the situation or make sure of it themselves? Or to just look it up on their own without bugging me beforehand?"

Mark wrapped his arms around Linna's body and soothingly rubbed her back in comfort. Although they had broken up and that he was the one at fault, but to this day Mark still cared for Linna. Seeing his ex-girlfriend in her current state reminded him that her work place was still shitty and her co-workers were even more annoying than before their breakup. Mark wanted to comfort her with words, but nothing came to mind. He was even more shocked that she lived in the same apartment complex as him now. He moved in about two years ago after the lease of their shared apartment was up shortly after their breakup. Mark honestly believed that he and Linna would never cross paths again.

"Now I can't even enter my apartment because the code doesn't work, my phone died, and you smell like my ex-boyfriend."

Just as Linna inhaled the familiar scent did her mind snapped her back to reality and to her senses of what she had just said. She instantly backed up and out of Mark's embrace to stare at the person before her. A small gasp escaped her as Linna stared at her ex-boyfriend with widened eyes. Seeing Mark standing there sobered Linna quickly, but the headache remained. She wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the fact that her ex-boyfriend lived in the same complex as her and that she may have mistaken his place for her own.

"You live here, too?" Linna asked rhetorically while checking the number plate to make sure she was at the right place.

She wasn't. The first number she was staring at was for the seventh floor. She lived on the fourth floor, but realized that they both lived in the eighth apartment. Linna didn't understand how that could've happened except that she may have clumsily hit the 'seven' button instead of the 'four' button when she got into the elevator. She softly groaned before slowly fixing her eyes onto Mark while wiping away the stray tears from her face.

"Um, I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just gonna go."

"Linna, wait."

"Hmm?"

"Um..."

So many thoughts crossed Mark's mind as to what he wanted to say to his ex-girlfriend, but none of it sounded right to say at that moment. A 'sorry' seemed too pathetic and just worst to bring up even after two years. A 'how are you' would probably backfire like 'are you okay' from earlier. He wanted to tell her that she looked good despite her tear-stained and red face, but that just may come out wrong and out of context. Mark sighed and resorted to just looking at Linna speechless. Linna could see that her ex-boyfriend wanted to say something to her and so waited. She wasn't sure why she stayed, but she did. Neither said anything as they continued to gaze at each other. It wasn't until a third, much younger voice, interrupted them.

"Uncle Mark."

The duo turned their attention to Mark's niece, Leah, that Linna hadn't seen since their break up. The little girl stood beside Mark and pulled on the hem of his shirt.

"I had a nightmare. I woke up and you weren't there." Leah said while sleepily rubbing at her eyes.

Leah turned her attention onto Linna to see who her uncle was talking to. Her face lit up upon seeing Linna and recognizing her.

"Auntie Linna. Hi."

Leah moved closer to hug Linna's lower body. Linna hugged the child back while casting Mark an unsure look. Mark softly cast her a small smile with a shrug.

"I missed you. Where did you? Did Uncle Mark make you cry again? Is that why you haven't visited me?"

Leah's questions brought tears to Linna's face, but for a different reason. Mark frowned upon hearing his niece's questions.

"I didn't make Auntie Linna cry, Leah."

Leah turned to face her uncle with a pointed look.

"But why didn't she come see me like before?"

Mark couldn't answer his niece honestly and so didn't reply. Linna took this opportunity to do it for him.

"Leah, sweetie," Linna called for the little girl's attention while crouching down to eye level with the child, "Your uncle and I just had to take some time apart. That's why I couldn't come see you."

Leah's facial expression turned to one of hopefulness.

"But you can come see me now, right?"

Linna briefly glanced at Mark who's facial expression didn't reveal much, but she could see in his eyes that he wanted to rekindle what they had two years ago. If she had to be honest with herself, then Linna wasn't sure if she had moved on from Mark. Sure he did her wrong, but they didn't really have any sort of closure. They just broke up without talking about anything and now here they were where she ranted to him about her work life. He comforted her in his own way even though he didn't have to. Linna inwardly sighed that being an adult was too complicated and that being child-like was much simpler back then. Her attention was brought back onto Leah.

"Auntie Linna."

"Hmm?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I dunno, Leah. It's late. Auntie has to go home."

Linna avoided answering the question fully and shot the little girl a soft look.

"It's very late, Leah. We all need to be in bed."

"C'mon, Leah. Let's let Auntie Linna go home now." Mark softly urged his niece while walking over to place his hands on his niece's shoulders to lead her back inside the apartment.

Leah wasn't giving up so easily as she took a hold of Linna's hand.

"Can you come over for breakfast?" She asked hopefully.

"Uncle Mark and me are going to make pancakes, but I know auntie like waffles so I want to make waffles with auntie. Please?"

Linna glanced at Leah's hopeful expression before looking over at Mark unsure, but his only response was to shrug his shoulders with an aloof expression and leaving it up to her if she wanted to accept or not.

"Please?" Leah repeated as she tightly held onto Linna's hand.

Linna wasn't sure if it was just Leah's way of uniting them again or if it was just fate bringing her and Mark's paths to cross one another again, but she would let it be to see where it would go. A lot could happen in two years and although it doesn't change the past it could set something else towards the future by living in the present.

"Okay, Leah. I'll join you for breakfast." Linna agreed with a small smile.

"Yay!" Leah cheered as she happily jumped up and down.

Leah let go of Linna's hand as she went to hold her uncle's instead and tried pulling him further inside the apartment.

"C'mon, Uncle Mark. We have to sleep so that Auntie Linna can come over faster."

"Okay, okay." Mark responded with a chuckle before casting Linna a smile with a small wave.

"See you later, Linna."

"See you later, Mark."

Linna returned the same gestured as Leah happily waved at her while bidding her a good night and Mark closing the door shortly afterwards. Linna inhaled deeply before exhaling a moment later. As she made her way back to the elevator a small smile graced her face as she felt relieved of stress and worries for the first time in a long while. When she get back home Linna knew that she was gonna definitely have to vent to Serena about earlier, but that she ran into her ex-boyfriend again and that their current status may change.

#staytheb #got7 scenarios #mark tuan #duan yien

11 notes · View notes

erosjeon · 5 years

Photo

Part 1|?

⇢ In an age where information can save you or kill you; the concept of wrong place at the wrong time is a funny one. What do you do when you’re accused of stealing the hard-drive that holds restricted information belonging to the government? Particularly when they send a lethal robot to take you down?

Pairing⍮ Jeon Jungkook x reader, Kim Namjoon x reader Genre⍮ robot!au, angst, slow-burn and eventual smut (no specific warnings in this chapter) Word-count⍮ 4.6k

A/N: This fic couldn’t have dropped at any other time just as fitting to celebrate the belated birthdays of my loves Jungkook and Namjoon who also happen to be the main two characters. It’s also my birthday hehe! I had not actually planned to drop this now as a celebration at all since I had written it almost a year ago and had edited and gone back a thousand time. I think its safe for me to say that I had not worked any harder on any other fic on this blog so I hope it receives some love 💜

He took slow careful steps down the familiar stairs confined by white sterile walls leading down to his private laboratory. Tonight marks his fifth year anniversary in that building that filled with tranquillity that was anything but pleasant.

A sigh escaped his lips as he lifted the laminated silver card that hung around his neck to grant him entrance to the lab before he moved his hand to the switch by the door to turn on the lights. His fingers tugged at the plastic material and lifted it off his chest and into some place on the counter.

Kim Namjoon – robotics and autonomous systems specialist. 25.

At first glance, the place appears abandoned. There were barely any white coats other than his floating in choreographed concentration along the benches, as was usually the case. The smell of the setting agar and the faint humming sound of running machinery – as well as the lack of dust quickly dismissed any ideas. The modernity of the laboratory is showcased by the giant steel frames surrounding soundproof glass that welcome a view of the city where the light further brightens the dull lab, contrasting the black metallic roof above and floor below.

Everything was the way he left it the night before, it has been a routine for him now after having completed the project of a life time and for someone so young – it was achieved way too early. He had fallen into a slump, he knew he would never be able to re-create what he had any better. He will never feel the same way he did the first time – the time when he laid his eyes on the smooth sun-kissed coloured skin that capsuled anything but natural. The devices he had the honour of being able to craft and create were the easy part of his job, a task that he was able to do by the end of the third semester years ago while he was still learning at college. It was the half nature of his creation that posed potential for the project to fail as nature screamed at the fusion of what should not.

He ran a hand through his hair as he paced to the pile of paper on the end of his desk where his leather chair waited awkwardly, looking through the notes that he compiled through the years that now serve as a reminding memory as if their content were not engraved in every one of his brain cells. He let out a bitter laugh as he looked at the not so innocent words in the initial research and proposal that gave life to what he had made today.

14th of October, 2015.

Robots.

A concept that has been anciently configured. The fascination with ‘artificial beings’ has been around for thousands of years, evolving recently with the onset of the Industrial Revolution in order to create complex machines powered by electricity with the sole purpose of conducting their allocated tasks - reducing the need for human assistance.

Human reliance on artificial intelligence has increased drastically over the years – first beginning in factories using simple fixed machines programmed to do a single action, over and over again repeatedly. The use of machine for different number of tasks followed right after, extending to the creation of human-sized robots with the capacity for near-human thoughts and movement and so has their purpose.

How to make robots softer or more compliant… less like rigid machines? How can we combine human and artificial intelligence?

Biohybrid robots

Robotics with tissue engineering. They serve as a promising candidate for improved research investigation by providing biological dynamic system template through biological design. The concept of dual nature seems to have chance of success as although previous studies have shown that using skeletal muscle tissue on metal tend to shrink through the course of the tissue culture, it was not the case when an antagonistic pair were grown.

22nd of April, 2017.

Repurposing project to military (I don’t know how to feel about this, but Seokjin says I can’t do anything about it).

Military Robots

The need for reducing human casualty in war has become increasingly apparent by the public outcry and the great downfall in the number of men enlisting into the army over the years. The world is evolving at such a rapid pace which forced the need for rapid adjustment to be almost compulsive, maybe that is what has allowed technological advances in the robot industry and invention to highlight the possibility of using robots in warfare which has been once regarded a topic of science fiction. The use of automated weapon systems is now considered the future of modern warfare and has become largely invested in for research and development by many countries.

Another sigh escapes his lips as he piles the scattered papers into their usual folder and away into the second drawer that he’ll open once again this time, next year. Leaning back in his leather seat and dropping his head back, he realised how much of a mess the place was. It was as if the storm outside had moved beyond the walls and into his rather suffocating workplace but he didn’t have time to think about cleaning up when far more important matters were to be done first.

His mind wandered to the stranded bot on the other side of the building who needed to have his microbiology screen completed today. There was an undeniable thrill in the routine tests he was in charge of, he looked forward to every instance where he finds himself a few feet away from his cell, not that anyone can blame him. He has never had actual contact with the robot – no one has before. He was programmed to comply with his assigned schedules, he knew when and where he had to stretch his arm across the metal barrier to sit it on top of a glass plate where they are strapped automatically to lock him in place for specimen collection.

He wished he had more authority when it came to the fate of him – he didn’t wish to have him locked away for all this time with minimal socialisation, all of which he knew were to be of consequence one day, inevitably.

The walk to the confinement was as any usual – the corridors dark and quiet. Not many people opt for night shifts in the field of his speciality for many reasons, some that undeniably reside in the depths of his mind every single day. This job is by no meant not your typical, there was risk in every move you make – especially when the guards are a bit too tired and a bit too unobservant in the late hours of the night. The secrecy of the projects withheld within confinement were much too important than human lives, the consequence of any fault is to be faced.

Two metal doors opened swiftly as he scanned his card by the projecting blue light. His anxiety swam to the surface as he dwelled on the chances of something going wrong. He knew he had to conquer his fears before coming face to face with the bot he gave life to. He knows just how capable he can use that against him - how he can use anything to manipulate him.

He felt ashamed to admit that despite having built him piece by piece, he almost knows absolutely nothing about what goes in his computer mind. The second nature of Jungkook granted him that liability, the little ability and free will to conceal himself as he wishes from anybody without being coded onto one of these computer screens. Thinking about it now makes the uneasy feeling more difficult to go. There’s endless possibilities of things going wrong, the main concern being the possibility that Jungkook lets loose and decides to use his strength against the metal baring his own nature against his maker.

When the sound of the buzzer resonated in Namjoon’s ears to remind him of the job to be done, an unexpected guard emerges from the side door, he stops his footing a few inches away and inspects Namjoon fully despite the authorisation he received at the gate.

“What? No more naps on the job, Mr. Min?” Namjoon snickers, before giving his old friend a warm embrace, “I didn’t know you were back from suspension, what happened to you anyway?”

“Piss off Kim, one of you has either been a snake or that stupid janitor has ratted me out and told them what happe- anyway it’s nothing, I’m back. There.”

“What? What happened?”

“I said, it’s nothing”

“Look Yoongi, if this concerns your job which requires you to be alert for a reason then it is something, for god’s sake what happened? Is this concerning the bot?”

Yoongi sighs before he contemplates saying anything, If the higher ups know then Namjoon also has a right to know, “He attacked him, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s whole world seemed to have paused when he processed the three words, he’s attacked someone. Jungkook, he’s attacked somebody and…. “What did he do?” Namjoon blurts, he needs to find out more. Why would Jungkook do anything like this unstimulated?

“Well he twisted his wrist till all his bones cracked broken-”

“No, I didn’t mean the bot. What did the Janitor do, did he say anything? Do anything”

“What?” Yoongi asks confused, “I don’t know? Maybe? I heard him speak but you can’t hear much out here. I promise it’s not because I was asleep, I was actually awake the whole day that day.”

“He must’ve said something to push him into violence. What’s the janitor’s name? details?”

“Woah, woah! Look I’m just a guard, man. Take your investigation somewhere else, go ask Seokjin or something.”

“Seokjin knows?” Namjoon feels betrayed, Seokjin out of everyone who was meant to support him unconditionally. His supposed best friend. At least he knows where his royalties lie.

“Of course, he was the first respondent. Was walking in the hallway when it happened actually. Great timing”

“And what did Seokjin do?” he looks down at Yoongi with a blank look, he knows that this was no coincidence. Seokjin’s job position has never required him to be on field, since when was he authorised to enter confinement? None of it made sense.

“I don’t know, I guess he talked both of them down or something. All I know is he was here, took the dude out afterwards for medical attention and they were both gone. Bot was still inside. So, as I said, Seokjin is your guy here I won’t be much help.”

“I see. If you remember anything you know who to look for” Namjoon leaves before completing his sentence to enter the sterile room to find the instruments.

He throws a blunt needle, alcohol wipes, fluid container and gloves on a tray after sterilising his hands. All the routine now familiar to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, something is happening and he knows none of it. Jungkook has been in contact with a human for the first time in his existence, and he just attacks.

Letting the air trapped in his lungs out in a sigh, he puts on the gloves before making it to the double doors leading to the cell. Another buzzer sounded, this time no guard was present. He needed to know when this incident happened, he needed to know more. It was his responsibility if anything else goes terribly wrong, even though he was taken off the assignment.

Jungkook’s arm was already present by the time Namjoon walks to the edge of the cell. A small rectangular glass above allows him to have eye contact with the bot as he wiped his injection site clean, he knew he had to be calm and collected, as if he had no idea what he’d done. Grabbing the needle, he connected the end with the container before injecting it into a vein and drawing out blood.

Thirium

Blue blood as they call it, it’s the fluid that powers the androids biocomponents, it circulates to provide energy and electrical information as our nerves do. It is an extraordinary finding which has allowed hybrids to exist now as they do. But unlike human blood, it evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye when it comes into contact with oxygen. Perfect for an erasable terror in war where there won’t be any remains to tell the story if the bot’s purpose fulfilment fails.

He knows he shouldn’t instigate a conversation, there were cameras everywhere. If seokjin hasn’t told him anything about the incident then there is a high likelihood it was only meant for a select few to know about it. They had even suspended Yoongi and he doubts that it was because his inability to do his job properly, this ‘incident’ had been done on purpose. Maybe a test? But he had to say something.

“How are you feeling?” he finds himself asking.

But there was no response. Jungkook was looking straight at him and the answer was clear. He wasn’t feeling anything, his eyes completely vacant. What had they done?

“You know, I’ve been meaning to apologise. I know how uncomfortable it feels to have blood drawn… and here you are getting it done weekly. I wish there was a different way to get your routine tests done. This one is going to be sent for microbial examination.”

Namjoon carefully removes the container from the needle, placing it onto the tray before taking his gloves off. He was not really expecting an answer, he was probably reprogrammed to be silent.

“I am sorry for what’s happened to you” he whispers. Not fully sure Jungkook would understand what he’s referring to. He just has a feeling that he hadn’t just randomly lashed out. He has never done that to him.

“You should not be apologising for getting your job done, sir” he hears the bot’s voice from the other side of the door, the dull eyes he was staring into turning rather soft before his hand was withdrawn and the flap closed shut followed by the sound of automated machinery.

Had he just gotten his un-programmed first sentence?

Has Jungkook spoken like that before? There was so much to find out.

As Namjoon made his way back to his private laboratory, he realised how wrong he was regarding his human capabilities. He might have created him but he knew absolutely nothing about the human side of Jungkook for he still has living tissue within him. His mind wandered to a specific conversation he had with Seokjin months ago.

7th of July, 2018.

“He is ready.” Seokjin speaks before he moves the pipette above a beaker, watching the mixture slowly swirl into hues of pink as he releases the chemical fluid. “He’s trained for a long time, he’s more than ready now. We have kept him thirsty for way too long.”

Namjoon sighs before turning away from the laboratory’s senior - his senior.

“Ready to murder every single human on this earth!” he releases a suppressed breath, “He hasn’t even had a single contact with a human before! With zero social skills, we’d be releasing a fucking killing machine!”

“That’s what he’s designed for, remember? We don’t need him for anything else” the senior replies before taking steps towards his subordinate, “Besides, all we have to do to control him is to log on one of these damn computers. He’s already loaded with all the chips required, everyone who we want safe will be safe.”

“We were told he’d only be used in war, we didn’t sign up for this - all of this risk, millions of dollars for a single girl! They could easily have hired someone to do their dirty work.”

Namjoon looks down at the stained bench as his senior joins him.

“He might have cost us millions but I’m sure you can imagine how much more we’d lose if what we know goes out to the rest of the world. This one is out of your hands, I’m afraid”, he patted his shoulder before making eye contact “you seem to be getting too soft for this field of work, Dr. Kim. They wouldn’t be too impressed knowing that, especially not when you’re the creator of something so lethal.”

“You didn’t even witness anything that went down, I’d like to see you act all brave when he’s standing inches away from your face with the intent to kill – for being isolated all these years!”

He had thought so lowly of the bot he’s made from seeing him tackle bodies of plastic and various other instruments as part of his training. Although it is better to be safe rather than sorry he can’t bring himself to think that Jungkook would project his training on someone innocent, why would he harm someone he was not programmed to harm as Seokjin had promised.

Jungkook was to be released next week for his mission, he had received this information on the bulletin the next morning. Namjoon had no regard to time at this point, the night blended into day while he looked through any file he can access on the system, he knew he had to be careful with his investigation to avoid arousing suspicion. He was not stupid after all.

He vaguely remembers the mission Jungkook was set to complete, he had thought it was originally due to fatigue but now that he thinks back, Seokjin had not told him much – and after being removed from the bot’s case, he knows nothing at all. The last training he personally conducted with Jungkook haunted him.

28th of August, 2018.

“Let me run it one more time.”

“It’s your third time already, he’s got it alright. He’s a machine!” Jin sneers as he fondles with the biohybrid’s file.

“Part machine.” Namjoon throws him a look before turning to meet his creation. “State your mission, again”, he orders.

“Eliminate target Y/N L/N”, a monotone voice responds back.

“And?”

“For fucks sake!” A familiar pestering voice behind him speaks again.

“I’m trying to follow the damn safe-conduct instructions here! If you can’t stand it then please, you may leave.”

Namjoon tries to collect his focus onto the robot sat in front of him, hoping that his supervisor won’t run his mouth again for all this is crucial in understanding even the slightest about the way his robot interacts with humans.

He had personally kept an eye on him through his training the past few months since his awakening, gawking from the camera lenses at the way he moves, the way he eats and drink, the way he speaks and conducts human like activities in isolation as after all – the bot was given a schedule to follow for the purpose of serving the scientists knowledge regarding his nature since personal interaction with him was not a viable option.

He was able to witness how he progressively began to speak less like a robot, his voice slowly losing that flat monotone only to flourish into a soft and almost musical one, how he became better at feigning freedom of expression as he recites what was stealthily stored into his system. He learned that just like humans, the robot required to eat and excrete, he’d observed that it had been awkward for him to do at the beginning; he would have been fooled to think of him as a child if it was not for his built body - and the lifelessness that lays between his irises. There was only one issue, he never had the chance to study his interaction with others and he has absolutely no idea what his human side is like, nothing regarding his though process and how much conflict that would bring to prosecuting his commands, there is only one way to truly find that out.

“Alright.” He palmed his face as it crunches in knowing soon regret, this is a terrible idea but what other choice does he have “What’s your name?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He had to find out more about Y/N too. He had one week to do all of this, one week to find something solid and halt the mission till he found more time to investigate into Seokjin, and the incident.

It was that time of the year again, the transition of autumn into winter is not one to be easily recognised when the flakes of snow have started falling ever since early September, just like the way the days have slowly converged into nothing but a stack of passing hours interrupted briefly by doses of sleep. There is no distinct moment where the frost has started chipping away at your skin, you think to yourself.

If you had to describe yourself, you could confidently tell the next person how painstakingly slow-paced your life was. You were nothing but an uneventful person, with an uneventful life. Everything had a schedule, your days began with a morning cup of coffee from your old (almost broken) machine that needed replacement, at 7 in the morning. You’d have not long enough before having to leave the house and attending the unnecessary meeting at your current job at POC where you worked as a reporter. This would typically be when your manager tells your team off for not working your butts hard enough to catch a break. On most days, there would be no one with good news worthy to report after the meeting, which is why Ollie, your manager, ensures the meeting comes first.

You’d spend the rest of your day in your cubicle by Park Jimin, he was your co-worker, and also your close friend. Jimin would usually be one of the few people with a story on the waiting list when the team had not caught anything worthy enough for news and you can’t help but be envious of that sometimes albeit his very hard work. You want to be like him one day, you think.

Work would usually end around 6pm, this is when your forehead is against the table and your eyes are closed shut. You were exhausted, because even though you leave the office at 6, your work never really ends. As soon as you stepped foot out of the intimidating building, you were basically out on field. You try not to get yourself too obsessed with catching a lucky break but you can’t help but feel desperate sometimes. Nevertheless, you usually would grab a takeaway and head home. On a good day, you would be having a barbecue dinner with Jimin and a bunch of other colleagues of yours. Today was not one of those days. It’s also not one of those days where you are enthusiastic to find a celebrity on a date with another to report on.

The way back home was pleasant. You had opted to cook food at home rather than a takeaway to give your body a bit of a break since you remember the groceries you’ve brought home the day prior. You were already thinking of what to make when you locked your apartment door shut, a carbonara sounded absolutely delicious, especially with fresh mushrooms. You left your bag on the sofa by the door where your makeshift living room is. Truth is, you still have not finished renovating your apartment despite having moved here 6 months ago. You were too busy worrying about newspapers to even think about buying a decent coffee table that could be in the centre of the room.

You were letting out a sigh and pulling at the camera that hung around your neck when a figure had moved within the darkness of your flat. You don’t remember inviting anybody over… your nerves shook as you thought of the possibilities anyone you know is inside with you right now. Did you just walk into a robbery of your own home?

“Hello?” you shout out, not knowing where the figure had moved to. You had to think of something.

You managed to grab the tennis racket from the box of all-random-things in attempt to defend yourself, thanking the disorganised part of yourself for having everything sit in the box knowing it’d come handy one day. If this is how you’re going to die then the least you can do is defend yourself. How pathetic would it be to get killed in a robbery? You could just walk right out but how would you know the person won’t chase after you like a dog.

“I know you’re in there, come out!” you tried to sound strong, knowing full well that you’d shit your pants if whoever it is inside shows themselves. Did they have a weapon?

“Hello?” your hands are now shaking, you decided it’s wise to call the police and have them deal with it. The stillness of your apartment did nothing but install more anxiety and fear in the pit of your stomach.

You were walking to where you had left your bag to reach for your phone when the sound of movement and hurtle had caused you to hurry your movements. Someone was behind you. You could feel the heat emit out of their body and into yours, they were close when the phone was in your hand and all you had to do was dial the emergency but you were too late. You gulped - this is your end.

“Drop the phone.” you hear the man behind you say, the sentence resonating in your head as you had thought of what could happen if you just tapped the green button. You decided that nothing could be worse than what you are possibly about to experience when you hit dial and the phone rang but before you could even comprehend you were forcefully turned and pushed against the wall, causing you to meet your offender eye to eye.

You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your mouth when his fingers wrapped around your neck and started squeezing.

You had imagined the worse when you thought of who would take away your life if you had to leave earth that way. You were expecting perhaps… someone filled with hatred, covered with scars that had driven them to commit such an act against you, or maybe just someone plain crazy and evil. But the person who stood in front of you was anything but. He was young, beautiful even. You couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the long brown locks that separated at the centre of his head at the top, the soft doe-like eyes that were filled with emptiness and his soft pink lips. Why would someone like that - so innocent looking, a stranger, want to harm you? What had you possibly done to deserve being choked to death?

Your vision was giving away when you finally brought your hand to claw at his skin, your voice not strong enough to make out any word when the panic had finally set in, you were vibrating in sheer panic when you felt the air refuse to leave your lungs and your eyes started filling with tears, “Please, stop!” you wanted to cry out but to no avail when your vision started fading to black.

#bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon x reader #bts robot au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #robot au #robot jungkook #bts #slow burn #crystal steel #unedited #also forgot to say some stuff are inspired by detroit become human

197 notes · View notes

voyager-into-the-unknown · 5 years

Text

This is the next part of my Plance fanfic series. There’s hints of Plance, Kallura, and Hunay in this chapter, plus loads of action!

This is the link to the previous chapter: https://truegryffindorforever2.tumblr.com/post/188911292170/i-had-fun-writing-this-chapter-lance-and-pidge

Chapter 9: The Morning Workout

At 0800 on Monday morning, the Paladins met at the Garrison’s training deck for a mandatory combat simulation. The Altean technology from the Castle of Lions was the foundation of this enormous new training area that the Garrison had built, not just for the Paladins, but for the future trainees of the Defenders Project that the Holts were developing. Even though Pidge had helped her father design the platform, the scenarios were so varied that even she would be surprised by most of them. She had asked Matt to do most of the programming for their training so that she would not know what kind of dangers they would face. Coran and Shiro had also given Matt some suggestions on the specifics.

Keith had arrived early, and was in the control room with Coran, who would be operating today’s simulation. Shiro and Matt had arrived shortly afterwards to observe and evaluate the results of the exercise.

Allura and Pidge were on the deck by 0750, and when Lance and Hunk arrived, Lance saw that the princess was helping Pidge with her unruly long hair, braiding it tightly so that it would fit under her helmet. “Good morning, Ladies!” Lance called cheerfully. Pidge made a little wave and smiled at them.

“Good morning, boys!” Allura replied as she finished helping Pidge with her hair.

“Good morning!” Hunk replied.

“Thanks, Allura. My hair is so much trouble. I am thinking about cutting it again.”

“Aw, don’t do that. Your hair is so pretty, Katie,” Lance said, never taking his eyes off of her. She blushed a little as she averted her gaze and smiled. Hunk gave Allura a knowing glance, and the princess lifted her eyebrows at him, looked at Lance and Pidge, then back towards Hunk. Hunk knew what the princess suspected, and he gave her a little nod. Allura looked happily surprised.

Keith walked out onto the deck. “Good morning, team. Today’s combat training exercise is an infiltration of a Galra pirate vessel. It’s the flagship of a large fleet of destroyer drones that are maneuvered in tandem by a slave circuit, which is controlled by a computer system that Pidge must hack before the flagship’s main reactor goes critical. Our coalition fleet is engaged in battle with the pirates and they have managed to partially disable the flagship, so our time is limited. To complicate things further, we have discovered that there’s also a small group of kidnapped citizens of the coalition worlds that are being held for ransom, and we must find them before we escape. If we fail, the fleet of destroyers will attack one of the coalition colony planets nearby, killing millions of colonists. We will have 25 doboshes to get through the maze of corridors to the brig and the main control room, complete the mission, and escape to our lions before the ship explodes. Reprogrammed Galra sentry bots will be playing the role of the pirates, but there are a few surprises onboard the ship, so expect the unexpected. Ready?”

“Ready!” they all replied. The plain white platform was transformed into the grey corridors of the pirate flagship, dimly lit by an eerie purplish glow. Klaxons blared and there was the sound of running metallic feet as the sentries charged, firing their energy rifles at the Paladins who drew their Bayards and activated their shields as they charged into the onslaught. Lance took out half a dozen sentries with his rifle, and Hunk incapacitated half a dozen more with his canon. Allura and Keith defended Pidge with electro whip and sword as she ran to the nearest terminal to find the location of the kidnapped citizens. When she found them she transmitted a map to everyone’s wrist displays.

“There are three of them. I’ve sent you their locations.”

“Great work, Pidge. Hunk, Allura, come with me to rescue the prisoners. Lance, go on with Pidge to the main control room,” Keith ordered. Lance was the most logical choice to defend Pidge while she worked. He could strike the enemy from a distance with his rifle and defend her in close quarters with his sword.

“Twenty doboshes remaining,” Coran’s voice announced over their helmet coms.

“Let’s move!” Keith shouted, and they went their separate ways.

Keith, Allura, and Hunk had to fight their way through a corridor full of sentries who were dressed in pirate gear and wielding both energy pistols and swords. After making short work of this obstacle, they entered a larger room consisting of several levels of gantries and cells. The area was filled with guards, one of whom was a huge, troll-like creature who carried a massive club. He swiped at Allura just as Keith pushed her out of harm’s way. Hunk opened fire on the creature, distracting him as Keith attacked the sentry guards, slicing the several bots to pieces, but just then even more sentries poured into the detention area brandishing their weapons. The Paladins were vastly outnumbered. Allura rushed to locate the three prisoners and release them from their cells. Romelle, Shay, and Axca soon emerged from the cubicles that Allura had opened. “I think we have some more allies in this fight,” Allura called to the others.

“Shay!” Hunk shouted. “Get her out of here!”

“I want to help,” the Balmeran girl said as she moved toward the battle. Axca and Romelle had already picked up fallen energy pistols and were combating the sentries nearest them. Shay used her size and strength to her advantage in the conflict, hurling sentries left and right, while Allura ran towards the troll-like monstrosity. She leaped onto its back and encircled the creature’s thick neck with her whip. It screamed in agony as she sent electrical currents through its artificial hide and android body. The pirates opened fire on Allura, knocking her down from the monster’s shoulders. Her armor protected her from the worst of the blast, but she fell to the deck, stunned.

“Allura!” Keith screamed. He ran towards her.

The troll-like creature was still disoriented from Allura’s attack. Hunk spotted a row of gantries and empty cells above the monster’s head and opened fire with his most powerful missiles, collapsing the structure on top of the monster.

Keith had lifted Allura’s unconscious body from the deck while Axca and Romelle provided cover for them. “We have to get to the hangar now! We are running out of time!”

“But what about Lance and Pidge?” Hunk asked, running after the others.

The corridor ahead of them was blocked by four pirate sentries with energy swords. Lance shot the first one who changed at them, but dodged as the second attacked with its sword. Lance’s Bayard transformed to its Altean broadsword form and he engaged in a furious duel with the bot. Pidge had managed to short-circuit the third sentry with her Bayard, but the fourth pirate sentry seized her, picking her up from the deck and holding its sword to her throat. She screamed. Lance heard her just as he had just sliced the second sentry in half, and while his sword was still in motion, his Bayard transformed back into a rifle. In one fluid movement, he aimed and fired at the pirate’s head, blasting it off of its shoulders. Pidge jumped down from its embrace as it collapsed. “Way to go, Sharpshooter!” Lance grinned at her.

“Ten doboshes!” Coran announced from the observation deck. Sam and Colleen had come by to watch the training exercise, unbeknownst to the Paladins. They watched as Lance and Pidge ran through the corridor towards the control room.

Keith helped a very groggy Allura down the passageway to the hangar where the lions were protected by their particle barriers. “Will you be able to fly?” He asked.

“I think so,” she straightened to her full height and saw that Hunk was already leading Shay aboard Yellow Lion. Romelle took Allura’s arm and led her towards Blue, and then Axca quickly followed Keith towards Black Lion.

The control room was filled with sentries, but Lance and Pidge took them out in a matter of moments. Pidge ran to the main terminal as Lance opened fire on the sentries that poured through the open doorway. Pidge’s fingers flew over the key pad as row after row of data scrolled up the display screen. “Hurry! Pidge, there’s too many of them!” Lance continued to pick them off.

Pidge didn’t answer him. Even if the flagship was destroyed, she had to send out the signal to disable the destroyer drones, or they would continue on their predetermined plan of attack on the colony. The program that she was trying to hack was one of the most complex she had ever seen. Her brow was damp with nervous perspiration. She began to panic.

The last of the sentries had been taken down by Lance’s sword, just as Pidge yelled, “I’m in!”

“Five doboshes,” Coran announced.

“Red and Green just took off without them, Keith,” Hunk’s voice announced over their comm channel.

“Lance, Pidge, report in. What’s your status?” Keith asked from Black Lion’s cockpit.

“She’s reprogramming the destroyer drones now,” Lance replied.

“Keith, Red and Green have flown away from the battle, far beyond the blast radius. The coalition flight group has disengaged as well. The destroyers are almost to the planet’s surface!” Allura cried, despair in her voice. “They will never make it out in time.”

“Red and Green would never abandon them like that, would they?” Hunk asked. “How will they get to their lions?!”

“Pidge, we have to go now!” Lance yanked her from the terminal pulling her towards the corridor.

“There’s an airlock to the left side of the next corridor,” she said, and they ran towards it.

Just then a sentry opened fire on them from behind. Pidge fell to the deck. Lance turned and blasted the robot to pieces. “Pidge! Are you alright?” He knelt beside her, then helped her to stand.

“My suit’s Okay, But my jetpack isn’t.” Lance opened the airlock and pulled her inside.

“Then you’ll just have to hold onto me. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

Lance opened the door to the hull, and they were pulled into the vacuum of space. Pidge was holding on to him with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, and Lance clasped her to his chest with all of his strength. Screaming, they tumbled through the void.

Allura was monitoring the drone attack. “The destroyers...they’ve stopped!”

“Pidge’s hack worked!” Hunk exclaimed. “But where are they?!” Hunk and Allura both had tears streaming down their faces.

“Keith?” Allura called.

Keith didn’t respond. His eyes went blank, and he glowed with quintessence. Black was communicating with him, telling him what he must do. He inserted his Bayard into its port, and suddenly Black Lion was no longer there.

Lance had activated his jetpack and was flying away from the inevitable destruction of the flagship. He held Pidge close to him. She was sobbing. “We aren’t going to make it.”

Just then, Black Lion appeared out of nowhere, his mighty jaws open to catch Lance and Pidge, then teleport away to where Red and Green were waiting for them. The flagship exploded, bright as a nova.

“End simulation,” Coran said, and everyone in the control booth stood in shocked silence. The Paladins, along with their rescued “hostages” were once again standing on the white floor of the training deck: Hunk and Shay, Allura and Romelle, Keith and Axca... But Lance and Pidge were floating in midair, still clinging to each other as the antigravity field lowered them to the deck. They were both breathing heavily, and when they landed, they took off their helmets.

“That was terrifying,” Pidge said weakly. Lance hugged her.

“It was so realistic. I thought we were going to die,” Lance admitted. They were both shaking.

“Well done, team,” said Shiro, who had just come down from the observation deck.

“Keith has unlocked Black Lion’s ability to teleport,” Allura said proudly.

“Hunk and Allura managed to take down the troll by working as a team,” Keith added.

“And Lance’s combat scores are the highest he’s ever earned,” Shiro added. “His Bayard transformed from rifle to sword and back again, and he used those transformations flawlessly. I have never seen him fight like that.”

“I had the right motivation,” Lance said. “My mission was to protect Pidge.” Lance had his arm around her shoulders, and he gave her a little squeeze. She blushed and smiled shyly.

“Pidge, That slave circuit program was designed to be unhackable in the time you were given. What you did was nothing short of astonishing,” Shiro said with admiration for the youngest Paladin.

“She saved the entire colony from the destroyer drone attack,” Hunk added.

“Outstanding work, everyone.” Keith had his arms around Allura and Hunk. He gave them each a side hug, then moved to hug Lance and Pidge. “I’m really proud of you two,” he said while hugging them both simultaneously.

“You saved us, Keith,” Pidge said.

“Yeah, man. You were amazing.” Keith smiled, then gave Lance a little pat on the shoulder.

“The whole team was amazing. Let’s hit the showers and meet up at the Paladins’ lounge for lunch.”

#plance #hunay #kallura #pidge #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #keith kogane #allura #shiro #coran #matt holt #sam holt #colleen holt

38 notes · View notes

archangel1961 · 5 years

Text

Jercy Headcanon #08

It was pure coincidence that Percy arrived in Camp Jupiter to see a disguised Jason. The older teen was back to restock and to re-calibrate their strategy against the supposedly dead emperors. Despite the other’s cover, the son of Poseidon can recognize him anywhere.

But Jason is dead. It can’t be him.

And yet, the kid’s aura and power reminds him very much of the son of Jupiter.

With a shaky hand, Percy grabbed the brunet’s shoulder. Said guy’s grey eyes widened, pausing his conversation with Reyna.

Bellona’s daughter stared at Percy like he’s mad. She was about to reprimand him, Percy saw her moved. But his entire focus is on the man in front of him. Who smiled gently, a soft golden glow erasing the false colors. His blond hair and bright blue eyes that never fails to awe the older taking its rightful place.

“Hey Percy”

The older teen couldn’t helped himself and hugged the other buy tightly. Hands roaming Jason’s face when they slightly parted, as if grounding himself in reality. That Jason is really here.

Jason’s face held a sad smile that Percy often seen in his dreams. Where they argue whether he could offer the world in exchange for Jason.

“W-What- How- “

With a crooked grin the other stepped away from the embrace.

“Doors of death. Things stirring in the underworld again. You know, usual stuff.”

Their moment was rudely ruined by a fuming Reyna who slapped Jason’s arm with such force that the other yelped in pain.

The current praetor yelled at the other for the son of Jupiter’s ‘stupid exploits’ and ‘hero-complex’. All the while crying and trying not to hug or punch the other at the same time.

Percy watched all this in the sidelines, thinking of a way to convince Jason to stay back in the mortal world.

As if hearing his thoughts, Jason glanced at him and shook his head sadly.

He watched his cousin look away after that response. Knowing he had the look of grief and brokenness etched upon his face. Like he always has whenever they have this topic in his dream.

“It’s only for a while.”

It’s what Jason said after they asked him how long the entire going back to life thing is going to last.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Days passed and reunions happened. Thalia slapped and hugged her brother and gave him a 3-hour lecture about stupid stunts and heroic bullshits. Reyna joining her during the 2nd hour. Annabeth joining during the third. Jason and Leo finally met and cried like ugly babies. Nico punched the other with all his might. The rest of the seven all hugged and spent time with the blond. Apollo came with Meg, and the former god apologize profusely. For not being able to protect him properly and for being a horrible older brother.

Jason smiled through everything and accepted it all.

Percy was iffy with Piper’s presence at the start but one glare from Jason made him behave. He still hasn’t forgiven the other for breaking his cousin’s heart but he’ll try to get over the hate.

“Hate doesn’t suit you so stop it.”

Was what his cousin told him so he’d give it a try.

They talked again a few days later, when they both opted to relax by the Tiber river.

“Don’t you wanna live again?”

The blond was silent before facing him.

“Of course I do.”

“Then why won’t you let me?”

Smiling sadly (Jason’s been doing that a lot lately and each time it hurts Percy more than the last), he replied, “I technically don’t have a home to go back to.”

Perking up Percy was eager to reply.

“You can come home to us! To our apartment in Manhattan. And don’t you say it’s for family because you ARE my family. You can come to me.”

He added the last part when he saw the younger opened his mouth to protest.

The son of Poseidon can practically hear the gears working on his cousin’s mind. And knowing him, Percy already knows what he has to say.

“I’ll have to bear with your hideous snoring though”

“HEY!”

They both laughed together with no care in the world.

“So what do you say?”

And again, Jason would shake his head sadly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And then the day of Jason’s second departing came. They all knew because the children of Hades felt cogs of the underworld shifting.They felt the doors being back to its rightful place and souls coming back to where they came from.

That and Jason started glowing that soft golden light that probably signals for something important, judging their previous experience.

After glowing, Jason stood wearing a white long-sleeve tunic with brown laces in the chest area, and white pants.

The blond searched for Percy’s sea-green ones, a silent message that it’s time to go.

The demigods of both camps gathered at the center of Camp Jupiter, ready to bid their last farewell.

Percy made a brief prayer to Hecate and in a snap of a finger, he was wearing his orange camp shirt and armor, completed by a praetor’s purple cape.

He can see the puzzled expression of the blond but he offered no explanation.

Instead, he walked towards him, the whole of the demigods making path for him. He stood right in front of Jason, head held high.

He can feel the stares of their friends, watching his every move.

Percy with every bit of confidence in his being, knelt right in front of Jason, like he’s a god to be worshiped, and looked directly to widened twin blue skies.

“Pontifex maximus Grace, I, Perseus Jackson, former praetor of the 12th Legion, am here to express my eternal gratitude for your sacrifice and dedication for Rome, your friends and family. It is my greatest honor that I get to fight beside you in order to save the world and the people we held dear.”

Percy’s voice was clear and strong. Everyone heard and felt the emotion that he was conveying. Jason’s very eyes are watery but he held his ground. He cannot, doesn’t want, to ruin the other’s spiel.

“It is my deepest regret, that you die earlier than you should. You’re supposed to be just experiencing life. Free of responsibilities and free of war. In this I hope you forgive me, that I cannot have done more to extend your life.”

Percy knows his hands are shaking. But he kept his left fist on the ground, the other resting on his elevated knee. It’s the first time he was determined to be proper and formal. Jason deserves this much.

“I would like you to know, that I am grateful for you trust, for laughing at our enemy’s face knowing that despite your absence, your trusted friends are here to avenge not just you but the beaten, the tortured, and the misguided. I hereby promise, in the river Styx, that I will not rest until I have Caligula’s head as my trophy.”

It was eerily quiet. Every single demigod and former god waiting for the Jason’s response.

Finally, in one swift movement, Jason wiped his tears and mirrored his cousin’s form.

“Former praetor Jackson, I, Pontifex maximus Jason Grace, am more than grateful for the family you had given me. For the lessons you had taught me. And for the love that you shared with me. It is my honor to fight alongside you, and to lay my life knowing that you would be here to fight our battles. My only regret, is that you aren’t able to rest after fighting one war too many. I hope for your happiness, for our friends’ and families’ happiness. It is a gift to have lived in the same generation as you.”

Percy saw tears from almost everyone. Even the tough-shells Reyna and Nico.

Smiling, he offered his hand to Jason and stood up with him. He watched the son of Jupiter take a few steps back before resuming his final agenda.

Without facing the crowd, eyes locked onto blue ones, he boomed, “12th Legion Fulminata! Column formante!”

All of New Rome stood in formation, Jason watching everyone with awe as the crowd followed the Greek’s order.

“Ave Pontifex maximus Grace!”

“Ave! Ave! Ave!”

They repeated the cheer thrice, banging their weapons and shields together. Even the greek demigods are joining the cheer.

And with the spur of everything Percy watched his cousin brighten and start a cheer.

“Ave Praetor Perseus Jackson!”

“Ave! Ave! Ave!”

They all clapped and hugged and cheered. Greeks and Romans celebrating the unity of their people.

Percy stepped towards Jason and grabbed his cheeks.

“You’re a child of Rome and of Greece. Never forget that.”

Through tear-streaked face Jason nodded, grateful for his family, for his friends. But most of all, he’s eternally grateful for Perseus Jackson.

Percy felt Jason disappear. The other forming into a scatter of bright golden lights floating towards the heavens. He watched him go, sea-green eyes never leaving the golden specks of light, knowing Jason would be back. He’s a got a strong feeling that he would be back.

Caligula better watch out because whether Jason is gone or not, he’s gonna fight alongside Percy. Like they did before.

#PJO #HOO #TOA #riordanverse #Jercy Headcanon Series #Jercy #percy jackson #jason grace #made myself cry when I thought of this #it's been a headcanon for a long time but never got to make into a full story #I write shit in ao3 so you might've read some context from there #I forget the latin terms they used in BOO and I'm too lazy to check so #anyways this is a headcanon #one of the most canon of canons

62 notes · View notes

lazybugsbunny · 4 years

Text

Yours Lovingly

“Hundred and fifteen participants from over seventeen colleges across the city, seven rounds of intense competition, ninety minutes into the quiz and it all comes down to two participants. Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for our finalists, Rishi from Xavier’s College of Sciences and Sanjana from our very own Imperial College of Engineering” announced the host energetically. The two finalists took their seats on the stage of the magnificent auditorium which was booming with applause. The competition was neck to neck and the scorecard showed no variation at all. “One question each, and if this ends in a tie as well, we shall move on to the rapid-fire round,” said the host anxiously as he pulled out the card to ask Rishi his final question for that round. “Times Up!” exclaimed the host. Rishi had failed to answer his question. This meant that if Sanjana answered her question correctly, she would win the quiz. The host read the question out loud “In the Harry Potter series, what is the full name of the Headmaster who was killed by Severus Snape?”. Sanjana’s eyes were lit up because this was a relatively easy question to her when compared to Indian History, Modern world politics, arts and culture, etc. The Potterhead knew that the answer was Albus Dumbledore but she was trying to recollect his full name. The clock was ticking and while she racked her brains she saw a guy in the audience seated in the third row who was eagerly waiting for her to look at him. As the two made eye contact, she noticed that he was mouthing something, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore” she understood instantly and said it out loud just as the host was about to yell TimeUp in his bold voice yet again. After a momentary pause, the host slowly chanted “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is… THE RIGHT ANSWER! We have a winner, put your hands together for the winner of Q-Fiesta-2016, Sanjana from Imperial College of Engineering.” Most of the audience had left as soon as the prize distribution was completed but the guy from the third row stayed where he was, hoping that he could talk to the winner. Sanjana noticed him and quickly walked up to him and in an exuberant tone said: “Thank you, I would’ve cursed myself if I lost the quiz because of a Harry Potter question.” With a slight smile on his face, he inferred “So you’re a Potterhead too!”. “ALWAYS” she quoted and extended her hand to introduce herself “I’m Sanjana, Computer Science-Fresher”. He gently shook her hand and replied “Nice to meet you. I’m Arjun, first-year Electronics.” That’s how their friendship began. Over the next four years, they shared many more Harry Potter references and quite a few memories. From time and time again, Arjun showed Sanjana that in the veil of a friend, stood an ardent lover too scared to confess his feelings to her. Arjun was sipping his favorite chocolate milkshake while he listened to his friends talk about how quickly four years have just gone by. Dhruv was deeply involved in the conversation. “I have no regrets. I’ve done almost everything I wanted to. Made good friends, played my share of pranks, got decent grades” he said contentedly and added “Also found the girl I love and who loves me too” looking at Kavya who was sitting right next to him blushing at what Dhruv had said. Everyone started recollecting their memorable experiences in college while Arjun was lost in his thoughts. He realized that he might never get to see Sanjana after the college ends and wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. How he planned on doing it remained a mystery. After a lot of thought and reminiscing the past, he halted at his very first meeting with her. “Harry Potter” he cried hysterically. A week later, Arjun called Sanjana and asked her if she could meet him in the canteen during lunch. Sanjana politely agreed. The two of them sat in the canteen and had lunch together. As the crowd slowly started to disperse, Arjun slowly took out a package from his bag. The rectangular package was covered with a fancy crimson red gift wrap. He held the package out and slowly moved it towards her and hissed “It’s for you”. Sanjana was indeed surprised and asked him what the occasion was. “I…It’s something to remember me by after college,” said Arjun with a sigh, disappointed that he had missed his chance yet again. The grin on Sanjana’s face slowly faded away as if she was disappointed with what Arjun had said as well. She opened the gift wrap neatly and found a box of her favorite chocolates, and a book- ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’. She opened the first page of the book and found a note, “Dear Sanjana, I’ve been told by your friend Arjun that you’re a fan of my work. It’s overwhelming for me to know that my work has fans from across the globe, across all ages. Its people like you who encourage me to do what I do. I wish you all the success in life and I hope all your wishes come true. Yours Lovingly, J.K.Rowling” under which was the autograph of the renowned writer. Sanjana was ecstatic and her face was beaming up with joy. “Thank You very much, Arjun. This is the best gift ever!” she gushed at him whose face was red as a tomato. Before Arjun could say anything, he heard the bell. Sanjana quickly put the book and the chocolates in her bag, thanked him again and left. Arjun also went to his class but he could barely think about anything apart from Sanjana’s joyous face after she read the note. As Arjun walked out of the gate in the evening, he found Sanjana standing along the sidewalk. She was baffled and completely out of breath. He understood that she had missed her bus. He offered her some water and allowed her to calm down. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked cordially. She looked around a bit and nodded her head with an innocent smile. She got on his bike, put her bag in between them and held on to the rear handle of the bike. With a hint of dissatisfaction, Arjun started to drive. The roads were flooded with vehicles. The journey which would otherwise take an hour took almost two hours. “Right here, that’s it” Sanjana signaled him to stop near the supermarket. Arjun stopped to the side and balanced the bike as she got down. “My house is a couple of streets away, I’ll walk from here. Thank you for the ride” she declared and started walking. Arjun parked his bike to a side and quickly galloped to keep up with her. “I’ll walk you home” he insisted. She did not want to risk being watched walking along with a male companion in her conservative neighborhood and explained the same to him. He reluctantly stopped and just stood there as she marched ahead. Almost instantly, her phone buzzed, It was Arjun. “Well, now we’re just two strangers walking on either side of the road” he grinned as he looked at Sanjana who turned back and chuckled at the hopeless romantic. The conversation was rather engaging and before she could realize, they had reached the corner of the street, from where her home was just a couple of houses away. Sanjana bid adieu and hung up hesitantly. As he walked back, he had an uncontrollable smile on his face which didn’t seem to wear off until the next morning. Both Arjun and Sanjana found the next morning young and mellow. Both of them were eager to meet each other. Both of them were hoping that they would run into each other in college. But both of them were left disappointed. Just as Arjun dialed Sanjana’s number to call her, his phone chimed -I’m staying back late after college to work on my project. Can you drop me home today as well? He knew what he’d say, it was obvious. But what he didn’t know was that Sanjana had completed her project three days ago. By 4:40 pm most of the students had left and the few who stayed were in the sports complex except Arjun and Sanjana who sat alone in their empty classrooms, thinking about each other. At around 6 pm, Sanjana called Arjun to tell him that she has completed her work and was ready to go. As Arjun switched on the engine, she slowly got on the bike. Her hand was on his shoulder and her bag was not in between them. And this time, Arjun had a smile on his face. There was not much traffic but Arjun had no intention of driving faster. It was around 8 pm by the time they reached the supermarket where Arjun parked his bike the previous day. As Arjun parked his bike at the same spot and took out his phone to talk to Sanjana while they walked, she stopped him with an intense look in her eyes and smirked: “It won’t be necessary today!” The street was completely isolated with nothing to be seen except for the shadows of the branches of the trees, that ran along on either side. Both of them silently walked side by side enjoying the cool breeze that whistled past them. Sanjana gently brushed her hand against Arjun’s. He swiftly receded his hand after which he noticed a livid expression on her face. He then slowly moved closer to her and gently held her hand and looked at her again. This time, she had a smile on her face as she clasped his hand. They continued walking hand in hand relishing the moment. When they reached the corner of the street, they stood there silently exchanging passionate glances. They refused to let go of each other. And in a whiff, Sanjana hugged Arjun tightly and murmured “I love you too!”. Arjun, who was initially taken aback, took a moment to process the moment and embraced her. He delicately held her face and looked into her deep black eyes. He pushed her cascading dense black hair behind her ear and whispered, “I love you!”. In his arms, she found the warmth she desired and with her in his arms, he found the peace he longed for. At that moment, their hearts surely did skip a beat.

#love #firstpost #scribbledstories

1 note · View note

cupofteaguk · 6 years

Text

exchanges (m)

summary: in which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head!

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: spiderman au | fluff/smut

warnings: descriptions of bullying, minor injury, unprotected sex

word count: 14k

(the present)

If Jeon Jungkook is against anything in his life, it’s one’s ability to exaggerate certain situations or problems to make those things seem much bigger than they probably were. Well, actually, take that back. It’s not that he’s against it per say, it’s just that his peer’s daily struggles of pop quizzes and missing the morning bus aren’t exactly headliner news—especially in comparison to what he has to go through.

Jeon Jungkook is against exaggeration, probably because he can’t get away with it himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like to exchange his fair share of embellished stories or fabricated events weaved into true experiences, it’s that he can’t afford to do so. Sharing stories of his nightly routines and dashing superhero adventures may seem great, but only if he could manage the burden of a personal life and a masked life intertwining.

As an 18-year-old boy, he can probably say it's safe to assume that he cannot. Manage the overwhelming, opposite pressure both of his lives take him, that is. It's difficult enough being a college freshman, a tiny fish in an ocean of whales and sharks, but throw in his late night Spiderman facade would be too much of a tale to share with other people and peers who probably ask too many questions and know too much about him. He's never liked the exposure that comes with being in the spotlight, and he can't hide behind his mask if people knew who he was.

Oh. Right. Speaking of his Spiderman facade, that's who is he. Haven't heard of him? You know, the dashing hero of Seoul, red and blue spandex attire with a web shooter, fine tuned senses and amazingly quick reflexes? The boy who swings around the city, volunteering for trouble and always coming out right on top? The boy who constantly maintains that casual, slightly amused tone throughout a majority of his rescues?

Yeah, well, that's Jungkook.

It's a role he has occupied gladly for about two years at this point, after an unfortunate accident at a lab he was interning at during his junior year of high school cursed him with these abilities of spider-like sensibility. Rather than run away from his powers, he chose instead to embrace it and it's almost been two and a half years at this point and he doesn't see any signs of stopping. He keeps that shadow of his life private, refusing to indulge, avoiding those conversations like the plague, keeping a wry eye out in a way that usually isn't perceived as paranoia, and for the first two years of his Spiderman role, he actually gets along quite nicely.

Until one eventful night, a day he remembers quite clearly leading up to that point. It's a Tuesday when it happens, a domino effect of bad luck prior to the inevitable in a way that tells Jungkook that perhaps he shouldn't have been all that taken aback that something like this would happen to him. First off, he had overslept his alarm that morning, leaving in a mad rush across the campus to try and get to his art lecture on time. His calculus professor had completely called him out today for his decreased academic performance on the last test—although to be fair, Jungkook actually didn't study for that test, he was too busy stopping an armed robbery at a bank. His history professor had dropped a pop quiz on the class, an assignment that Jungkook is almost 99.99% sure he had failed.

He had known that perhaps after all those things, the best way to spend the rest of his evening would have been to actually pick up a book and actually try to study for history or actually put some effort into a math question that would probably only take 10 minutes to complete. But no. Jungkook wouldn't be Jungkook if he didn't chase the nightlife, didn't chase after the rush and thrill of the powers he still hasn't completely grown accustomed to having. He had decided, instead, to dawn on the red and blue spandex, adjust the web shooters he had to manufacture on his own, before taking to the sky. There's always a difficulty sneaking out of the dorms, and even more so trying to get off the campus. But he moves with a certain stealth and a certain practiced grace that he's learned to embrace that excitement of sneaking off a college campus.

It's returning back that night that changes everything, all because of a dormitory power outrage and just the simple fact that Jungkook doesn't really know the layout of the building (or the placement of his room) as well as he thought he did. The ever-present darkness that encompasses the complex leaves Jungkook with little option but to estimate the area of which he believes his own dorm is located, as he crawls his way up the windows, pretty confident that he lived on the third floor, fourth window over from the edge.

Or was it the third floor, sixth window from the edge?

Fuck.

This momentary lapse in his assurance comes a little too late, however, because he lets down his guard at the sight of seeing an opened window. He always left his window open before leaving, so maybe he's been overthinking the situation and maybe he really does know the location of his dorm from the outside.

So he slides through, landing with a soft plop onto the carpet as he lets the exhaustion of the day finally start to catch up to him. Because of the darkness, the only light coming in through the moonlight, he fails to notice the Captain America posters that line the walls, or the polaroids from strings, or the floral print on the bed as he lets out a sigh into what he thinks is an empty dorm and practically throws himself atop what he thinks is his mattress.

A shift of movement underneath him, a startled scream, jerks Jungkook out of his lapse into dreamland as he springs out of bed at the same time the figure underneath him straightens up as well.

“What the fuck!” A startlingly familiar voice cries from below.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I thought this was my room—!”

At once, the lights overhead turn on and the sight makes Jungkook's heart drop, beat a sudden mile a minute, and also feel as if it might crawl up his throat all at once. He feels his breath catch in his throat, the color flush against his cheeks that would probably match the red of his uniform had it not been for the mask covering his face—but this reaction to seeing someone in a bed is not for the reason one may think.

Because sitting in said bed, blanket pulled up to chest, no makeup, hair reduced to waves and curls that spray out across shoulders, eyes wide, but still the same face that he's spent the past three years admiring and crushing on hard from afar—is you.

Yes, you. The same you he's been crushing on for three years, the same you who smiled at him in the halls as if he was the only person in the room that mattered, the same you who didn't hesitate to help him gather his books back when he was getting shoved into lockers and being told that he would never mean anything to anyone.

You were alway the exception to his tragic high school life, one that is defined by his attempts to get a hang of his powers whist balancing school and his worrying parents, and trying to stop flinching every single time he turned the corner in the school hallway. You were always better, always that shimmering stardust in the pits of his night sky, as cliche as that sounds. To say he's been in love with you for three years would probably be a bit dramatic, given that the pair of you have rarely ever even exchanged a word of conversation since he met you, but the small hellos and shy waves of acknowledgment the pair of you have been exchanging since the very first encounter would probably be enough to say that Jungkook has always been incredibly fond of you and nothing in his right mind was going to change that.

He had heard through the grapevine that you would be attending the same university as him, and felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement at the thought of being able to see more of you around the campus and outside of the embarrassment that was his high school career. Even though the college campus is much bigger, and the differing majors keeps the pair of you apart, he really does learn to cherish the moments he can catch a glimpse of you around the campus. Whether it's walking to your classes, or talking to a friend, or reading a book, or listening to the music, he feels like they're all pieces of the puzzle that make up your life and he wants to learn as much as he can. Is that creepy?

Maybe. But okay. Back to reality.

The reality where he's standing right across from you, close enough where he can see the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the wild look in your eyes. It looks as if you had been seconds away from drifting off to sleep and while he feels bad for interrupting that process, since he can only assume from the bags underneath your eyes that you aren't getting as much sleep as you would probably like, there's also a swelling in his chest and a rapid thumping of his heart because if he had known he was going to be seeing you today, he might have tried to avoid the sight of him in a ridiculously tight spandex attire.

Speaking of the spandex attire.

It's something your eyes brush down upon immediately, taking in the red and blue mix of the fabric to the black spider across his chest and your eyes grow wider, but with a different kind of recognition. You're about to open your mouth to say something, anything, and his heart is in his throat and he thinks you might scream again, but a sudden pounding against the door of your dorm startles the pair of you out of your resolve.

You meet his gaze across the way, eyes alert and a thousand questions packed into a flicker.

Another knock jerks you into movement as you kick off the covers and make your way to the door, leaving Jungkook little choice but to throw himself behind the bed and hope that the boxes and drawers you have packed underneath your bed would do enough to keep him hidden from whoever lay waiting on the other side.

He can hear you throwing open the door. "A-Ah, hey Namjoon, what's up?"

"You alright?" A deep voice inquires immediately, and Jungkook recognizes the voice and your acknowledgment of the figure on the other side as Kim Namjoon, the RA of the hall. Even though he knows he's in absolutely no position to feel this way, Jungkook can't help the pang of jealousy that spikes itself in his heart. Did Namjoon have any idea how difficult it was for Jungkook just to inhale oxygen around you? How could the older boy speak to you with such ease?

But Jungkook keeps his mouth shut. It's not like he's in a position to start snapping about that right now.

"I heard you scream," Namjoon continues from whatever previous conversation you and the older boy had been having while Jungkook was dozing off.

"O-Oh right," You say in a small, slightly squeaky voice. "Sorry for worrying you, I just... fell off the bed," You end lamely. "I was napping and didn't know the power had gone out, so when it did go on I guess I just started freaking out. Sorry about that."

"Oh, alright," Namjoon dismisses, although he doesn't sound entirely convinced. Jungkook wonders just how much time you and Namjoon spend together for the older boy to get accustomed to your tone of voice and how the air around you hangs and the thought only leaves an even more bitter tang in the pit of his stomach. "Just be more careful next time."

"I know," You wave away, and Jungkook can practically hear the smile in your voice, knowing the tone of it from his own personal experience from the handful of small conversations the pair of you have shared in the past. "But it's good now. Thanks for checking up on me."

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

That's the last words Namjoon gets to throw in before you're closing the door, and Jungkook can hear the shift of your movements as you spin on your heel to face the vicinity of your dorm once more. "U-Um," You stammer out. "You can come out now."

Realizing that you're talking about him, Jungkook springs up into a standing position with a little more force than necessary. The sudden gesture leaves him slightly winded and he almost tips over because of the sudden head rush, but he forces himself to keep his ground with the knowledge that if he said something or did the wrong thing then you would figure it all out. Although he has his doubts about your ability to see who he really was under the mask, given that the pair of you haven't exchanged enough conversations or spent enough time around one another to gain the knowledge about certain characteristics such as nervous gestures or a general idea towards the tone of each other’s voices, Jungkook stills finds himself worrying. He uses your momentary lapse of silence to think through his situation. How should he address you? Should he just whip off the mask and announce himself as Spiderman right before your very eyes? Should he keep the mask on and just play the role of the friendly neighborhood superhero? What if he mixed everything up? What if he kept the mask on, but stuttered and stammered so much at the very sight of you that you picked up on his identity immediately?

It’s always been easy to differentiate Jeon Jungkook from Spiderman, always easy to pretend like the mask was a way to actually hide away all the things that made Jungkook Jungkook—but things have never been easy when it came to you, which is ironic given that walking with you and being with you has always as easy as breathing. It’s a difficult sensation to describe.

His heart starts to pound quicker with the realization that his time to come up with a proper response to the issue at hand is gradually starting to dwindle. It’s hard to think and run through his options consistently, especially when you’re standing before him in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that’s about an inch above your thigh. The senses he had been gifted with are of no help, everything around him feeling like the intensity has been dialed to some double feature. It feels as if he’s hyperaware of everything now—from the breeze of the opened window to the movement of footsteps outside the hall to the overwhelming smell of lavender and he stiffens because you smelled like lavender—!

As it turns out, you end up being the one to find your voice first. “Holy shit,” You say by way of greeting, and Jungkook swears he can feel his head growing light from the sound of your voice. He’s pretty certain that you sound as if your vocal chords have been laced with strands of silky gold that float out every single time you open your mouth. “You’re Spiderman.”

He chokes on the next words, physically having to restrain himself from accidentally letting your name slip past his lips with the knowledge that that would bring on a whole other slew of questions. He covers the strangle in his throat with a cough, hoping that you would think he’s merely trying to clear his throat. “Y-Yes I am! Nice to meet you… here in your room.”

You follow the craning of his neck as his gaze flits over your wallpaper and your room. There is another bed next to the door and he briefly frets about your roommate but your next question does good work in ridding of that previous worry.

“Do you… attend school here?” You finally ask, incredulous voice and arms crossed over your chest and oh boy, oh boy, if you knew, if you knew.

Jungkook stands still under the facade, watching you just as intensely as you are watching him, and he wishes he could tell you everything right here but the timing of it all feels distant and awkward enough. If he could barely keep himself together with the mask on, who knows what kind of burning bridge he could create with the mask off.

“D-Don’t tell anyone,” He settles with disclosing, lowering his head slightly. “It’d be really helpful, and I would appreciate it.”

Lips still parted, you nod. “O-Of course.”

Seeing you in a momentary stump gives Jungkook the confidence to carry on with the conversation, finding it easy to not act like himself since you’re not acting like yourself either.

“Great, thanks,” Jungkook takes a few steps away from you to reach the open window. He extends his arms behind him to grip the edge of the ledge, deciding for a moment that he likes seeing you so taken aback at the sight of him—even if not for the reason he wants. “Sorry about the mix up, by the way.”

You’re still staring at him, and although your arms have lowered, your eyes are still widely fixed on him. “It’s okay,” You speak, voice barely just above a whisper.

Jungkook nods towards your walls. “I like your posters, by the way,” He remarks casually, gesturing to the giant photos of Captain America and you follow his head tilt as if you had completely forgotten you had Captain America posters in the first place. “Although I’m a more of an Iron Man fan myself.”

You whip your gaze back towards him. “Now wait a moment—!” You point out, but the rest of your words are swallowed back into your mouth when you turn your attention back to the window only to find that the space where Spiderman once stood is empty.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook remains stuck to the outside right next to you window, heart stammering as he keeps his hands and feet firmly pressed against the plaster of the building. From his position, he doesn’t see the way your gaze lingers on the window, the way you look back at your Captain America posters, nor the way the corner of your lips turn up at the strange unexpected turn of your Tuesday evening.

(the past)

The first time you ever saw Jeon Jungkook, you are 15 years old, and he is getting shoved into the lockers right next to you.

It’s strange how well you hold this memory to your consciousness.

But it had been an unusual first-day-of-school, granted that you were moving in from a different town in the middle of the year and the experience is not unlike being thrown into the middle of a movie set where the movement and daily routine whirls around you and leaves you breathless and forced for adjustment. You had known before setting foot onto the campus that there was definitely going to be some catching up on your part, but you hadn’t known that you’d be encountering a bully attack right out of the gate.

So, naturally, you jump and make a little noise in the back of your throat as the contact of body meeting metal locker hits your ears. You tighten your grip on your books before it slips from your grasp as you immediately fix your gaze on the source of the noise. Standing next to you with his face scrunched in pain and teeth clenched together, the boy looks to be about your age, a tender 15-years-old, second year at this horror hell of educational means. Your eyes are quick to scan his appearance, gray jacket zipped up with the sleeves frayed from overuse. The hoodie he once wore over his head is knocked clean off the top, revealing a mop of unkempt black hair. He's got soft looking features across the paler complexion of his skin, and the sight makes your heartbeat quicken in your chest as a rush of sympathy and protective nature overcomes your nerves.

You long to open your mouth to say something, anything, but the rough voices behind you cut you off. "Watch where you're going Jeon; the morning excuses no one." The tone is rough and sharp, amused and cruel, before it's gone much too soon as if this type of activity is like clockwork and has been practiced on more than one occasion.

The thought isn't entirely comforting, which is probably what propels you to fix your gaze on the boy pressed against the locker. His eyes are still shut, and he's taking measured breaths. You notice almost immediately that no one lingers near him. No one stops to make sure he's doing okay, or that the shove hadn't caused permanent damage to his back, or if he can still manage a smile after this kind of morning. No one even makes eye contact with him as they rush past him with the excuse of making it to first period. The sight is practically heartbreaking as you watch students avoid the boy like he is the plague, no one desperate enough to catch his bad luck. He opens his eyes, casting them downwards, collecting his thoughts.

Still cradling the books in your hand, you shift in your standing position before attempting to reach an arm out towards the boy to ask if he's okay, but the boy flinches when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He fixes his gaze on yours for the very first time and his eyes are like the night sky, a shade of darkness that is surprisingly far from angry or frightened or moody. Instead, there is a loneliness that lingers like glimmers of a night sky, an emotion that you feel brewing in the pit of your own stomach—the idea that it’s possible to be surrounded by people every single day but still feel entirely and inescapably empty.

You don’t know a thing about him, and he doesn’t know a thing about you, but you find yourself gravitating towards him at once. You sympathize for him, but you also relate to his feelings and you wonder if he can see the concern flickering in your wide eyes once the initial shock of a rather unique morning greeting starts to fade away.

You, however, do not get to find out whether or not he’s noted of the emotions in your eyes. As soon as you try to open your mouth to say something, the boy is gone. He is a rush of blurred movements, pulling further and further away from you until he is darting away and not even sparing you a second glance. He leaves you alone, standing in the gradually emptying hallway, questions springing into your mind like wildflower, until the tardy bells rings and you curse. Nothing to start off the first day of a new school by being late.

You wish you could forget the boy as quickly as he could run away from you, run away from the bullies and the pain he’s probably hiding underneath that gray sweatshirt and eyes only you seem to be able to read, but life doesn’t work out in the way you wish it could. The earth continues to rotate, the day continues to pass by, the time continues to tick, and all of those things are like seeds of curiosity that plant themselves in your mind until you can physically feel it festering into a tree.

(the present)

The question of whether or not Jungkook would return the following night becomes a debate in it of itself as he spends a majority of the time leading up to the darkening sky pacing about in his dorm. His roommate has a tendency to let the day slip past his fingers wasting away in the library in desperate attempts to fill up his mind with Philosophical terms and conditional means—not that Jungkook minds the alone time. In fact, the constant absence of his roommate makes sneaking out all the more easier.

But sneaking out to chase trouble and sneaking out to see you, while both situations somewhat involve the same circumstances of Jungkook dressing into the suit and leaping through the opened window, feel different. Would using the Spiderman facade just to see you, and using the opportunity to have you see him not as Jeon Jungkook for once, be an abuse of power?

Maybe. Was that wrong, though? Was it wrong that he can’t get the mental image of you looking so taken by his physical appearance out of his head? Was it wrong to feel like the roles have reversed for once in his life and maybe catch a glimpse of what you saw every time he looked at you? Was it wrong that he finally had the covering he has always so desperately longed for that could help him look you in the eye for once in his life?

He thinks about feelings and validation, and starts out of his chair. He pulls the suit up and over his body, running a hand through his hair one last time before slipping on the mask, grabs the item resting upon his desk, and darting through the opened window. A web shoots out from the slinger, taking him across the way into the adjacent dorm building just a few feet away from his own. He rolls onto the rooftop, straightening and turning back around to face the structure he just escaped from. He stares through the windows, taking in the drawn curtains or the opened ones, the loud conversations and the ones he can’t hear at all.

Drawing only from his memory of yesterday, Jungkook fixes his gaze upon the general area he remembers lingering about in last night. Of course, his only real memory to draw from is the darkened area from the power outage, but maybe if he’s quiet and patient and the timing is right then maybe, just maybe—!

The answer presents itself to him within the next five seconds, when the flicker of movement from the window on the third floor, fourth from the edge, catches his attention and he narrows his eyes on the activity going on inside the room. In spite of the fact that everything he is currently doing is intentional, he can’t help the way his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you opening up the window of your dorm. Your hair falls forward like a curtain as you poke your head outside, as if you’re looking for something, before retreating back in.

The eleven o’clock hour finds you at your desk, as Jungkook watches you slip on your headphones and flip open the pages of a textbook along with opening your laptop. He finds himself tilting his head, curiosity blossoming in his features as he feels this desperate urge to know as much about you as humanly possible overcome him. The nerves grow in his chest at the thought of his arrival having a more negative, more distracting result, but the weight of the item in his hand brings him back.

Stealing away the hesitancy in his features, Jungkook leaps and shoots webbing just above your window, slipping in through and somehow managing a landing on his feet. The ruckus of his movement catches your attention as you jerk up in your seat and immediately pull the headphones out of your ear. “Spiderman?” You inquire incredulously.

He barely misses the way your lips quirk up at the sight of him, because he overshoots the sturdiness of his feet and accidentally tips forward enough to send him faceplanting onto the carpet of your dorm. “Hey—oh, shit!” He scrambles, but of course to no luck as he finds himself, once more, making a giant fool of himself in front of you.

As he tries to ready himself back up into a standing position, he fails to see the way your lips split out into a wider grin. “A-Are you alright?” You try kindly, reaching out for him, only to stop and bring your hands back down to your sides.

“Y-Yeah, of course. I’m great,” He brushes off, trying to keep his cool composure even though his cheeks feel like they’ve just been set aflame. “Thought I’d just drop by real quickly.”

‘Real quickly’. As if the thought of slipping into your room had been a spur of the moment idea, and not something that he has been losing his mind over for the past few hours.

You’re still staring at him, light smile dusting across your face, already looking more relaxed at the sight of his presence, as if you were expecting it, as if you were anticipating his return. “Any particular reason why?”

As soon as Jungkook has straightened up into a proper standing position, he notes the way you take a step closer and he hopes that the way he tenses up at the gesture goes by unnoticed. You’re so close that you have to look up at him through lashes, and he sees how big your eyes are, how many specks dance underneath the colors, and he’s fairly certain that he could get lost in the seemingly vast endlessness of the whole thing.

The way you quirk the corner of your lips leaves Jungkook to return to the fact that you had asked him a question and he coughs, knowing that the phrase ‘Because I was thinking about you’, while true, would probably not be appreciated and he did not want to make you uncomfortable with the knowledge that Spiderman was trying to flirt with you. Which, while may be the case, wasn’t something he was eager to drop on you right out of the fucking gate. As far as you knew, this was only your second encounter with Spiderman.

“Because,” Jungkook fills in after a moment. “I, well, I’ve brought something for you. An exchange of sorts.”

You raise an eyebrow. “An exchange?” You repeat. “I didn’t do anything wrong—you were the one who threw yourself on me—!”

“Alright, fine. Maybe the incident was my fault.” He finds himself smiling a little. “But I only want a small price from you—your name.”

You blink. “My name?”

He feels his lips quirking up into a wider smile. “Well, yes, don’t you have one?”

“Of course I do!” You retort, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips, even though he already knows the answer to the question. “It’s Y/N.”

“See, was that so hard?” He finds himself teasing, heart racing when he catches your lips turning up as well. “Here’s my half of the exchange—an apology gift for scaring you yesterday.”

Suddenly, you laugh—that beautiful melody that makes him crack a smile of his very own. “It wasn’t that terrifying,” You brush off with a shrug. “And I was supposed to be getting up anyways for studying—so in a way, you actually helped out quite a bit.”

He doesn’t know what’s more satisfying: the fact that he’s not falling apart or the fact that you seem to be enjoying the conversation immediately. It’s probably part of your pleasant nature, sure, but he doesn’t feel that desire to say some practiced phrase before throwing himself off a cliff this time. “That’s reassuring to know,” He says, pulling the item from his side anyways. “Regardless, I’ve decided to bring you sometimes anyways.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” You gush, taking the gift from Jungkook. It appears to be a poster of some kind, rolled up into a cylinder shape, but you don’t comment as you unroll the paper. He can see the anticipation drawn heavily in your eyes, lips curled up as your gaze takes in the photo across.

It’s an Iron Man poster.

Your lips part slightly, darting your attention back over to him, already finding him taking a few steps back towards the window once more. “Now wait a minute—!” You retort.

“You’ll thank me later,” Jungkook interjects, raising two fingers towards his forehead to salute you off. “See you around Y/N,” He says, wondering and hoping that you could hear the grin in his tone, the promise in his words, the longing to see you again even before you’ve left his sight.

You’re still standing in the middle of the room, poster in hand, before you look up to smile at him. “See you around, Spiderman,” You return.

He sees your slightly timid wave before turning back around to face the window to hide his own embarrassment, as if the mask alone wasn’t enough to hide his own private smile. He wonders if you’ll hang up the Iron Man poster; but above all he wonders if you mean it.

(the past)

The sight of your second encounter with Jeon Jungkook, while it is so much more different than seeing him getting shoved into a locker, is equally as depressing. It’s enough to make you feel as if all hopes of attempting to rid your memories of the boy have gradually started to fade away.

The days since you’ve seen him—Jeon, they had called him, leaving you with a vague feeling that perhaps that was his last name—slowly start to turn into weeks that you can count with one hand. Your relatively quiet and knowledgeable disposition lands you a small group of friends after a success partnered chemistry lab, girls who keep to themselves just as you do. They give you a place to sit during lunch and invite you into their conversations, supplying backstories and names, sharing their childhood in exchange with yours. It’s the fastest group of friends you ever make, so your smile is one of genuine nature as you finally feel equipped to bring up a question that has been plaguing your mind since your very first day of school.

It’s a question you’re almost afraid to lead into the light until you see him taking a corner table at the far end of the cafeteria during lunchtime, the point furthest away from the crowds of other students. You watch carefully and openly, observing the way he takes nibbles of his sandwich and doesn’t look over his shoulder to see if anyone can see if he’s eating alone. Like he’s use to it.

“Who’s that boy over there?” You find yourself asking before you could think about the gravity of your question. “I saw him on my first day getting shoved into the lockers.”

Karly barely spares a glance at the direction you are gesturing towards. “Oh, that’s Jeon Jungkook,” She answers quietly. “He’s been a target of the bullying since freshman year.”

“Why?” You ask, only tearing your gaze away from Jungkook when Karly tugs hard at the sleeve of your sweater.

“The other boys say he’s too weird, or too smart, or too different…” Karly explains. “Don’t stare for too long, he’ll drag you down.”

Drag you down? You throw Karly an incredulous look at how she uses too much practiced ease to describe Jungkook as an offensive weight rather than an actual human being. Something about the way she says the statement doesn't sit entirely well with you, but the finality in her tone keeps you from saying anything more on the subject.

(the present)

True to the unspoken pact conveyed through words, longing glances, and shy smiles, Jungkook elects to return back the following night without an ounce of hesitation. The desperation to see you is something that he can feel throughout all his nerves, making everything inside of him shake and curl with anticipation. He makes his way to the college, to the dorms, to you, all with a smile tugging broadly at his features.

He brings Thai food that night with the excuse that he merely needed to continue with the apology gifts in the form of food, to which you excitedly exclaimed that you were desperately in need of a pick-me-up at the eleven o’clock hour. His lips quirk up when he sees the Iron Man Poster hanging over your desk, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you.

His active participation in your life starts to become a regular occurrence. Always at the same eleven o’clock hour, always accompanied with a gift of some kind, always provided forth with the same excuse of the little exchange game Jungkook has come up with. Always a present as a reward to hear about your day: from the bad to the good and the little small moments in between. Even though he has a full day of classes and studying (or, okay, perhaps not that much studying) much like you, it’s always interesting to hear about a life not threatened by the abnormality of outside robberies or attacks or having to listen to the news constantly or living practically every single day of a life to ensure that he could protect another.

He wants to hear about a day that’s, essentially, normal and untouched by the terrors of horrible people. You provide that reassurance, that comfort, by never asking too much or too little of him. By having his mask on, he gets to see you with yours off—and there is a freeness to your laughs and your smiles, your interesting stories and your ability to always see the positives in every situation. You indulge in your insecurities and it’s in those little moments where he’s Spiderman, but he’s never felt more closer to who he really is. He likes hearing about your classes, about your asshole of a math professor, or the roommate who rarely shows up because of her boyfriend.

“Do you have a totem?” You ask one particular evening, picking up a piece of orange chicken from the Panda Express takeout he had run by before coming over to see you. He’s also come to find that you’ll pretty much eat anything and your dislike of food is quite limited—again, it’s like another piece of the puzzle he has learned to take full advantage of in getting to know you better.

Jungkook stills momentarily. “Ah, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” You start, shifting a little and tugging down on your sweater before it could ride too far up your side. “You put yourself in a lot of danger, right? Sometimes, aren’t you ever afraid?”

He doesn’t say anything to the question. He stares down at the chow mein on your plate. “I-I don’t know,” He lies, because of course he’s been afraid. Who wouldn’t be afraid of the fear that one day, all the sneaking around and the hidden traces of his identity would be for nothing? Who wouldn’t be afraid of the thought that someone would find him and hurt not just him but everyone in his life who he loved and who he held dear to? He doesn’t speak of the nightmares that plague his dreams, the nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat because he hadn’t been careful enough. “I’ve, uh, never really thought of that before.”

You hum, studying him closely and Jungkook can feel himself shifting underneath your attention. How was it that you more often than not had these looks that made him feel that he was without the suit and you could see every raw emotion that danced behind his eyes? “Well, let’s just say that you were afraid,” You reply. “Is there anyone you could think of that could ground you? Or, at least, remind you that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel?”

Light at the end of the tunnel. The last part of your question stirs something inside of Jungkook, who knows the answer to it before processing it in his mind. His mind whirls back three years to that fated encounter in the hallway and the many different instances that followed, the first genuine smile of understanding and not of sympathy he ever got, the only person who made him realize that perhaps he could get through the remaining years of that hellhole called high school.

“Y-Yeah…” He replies rather breathlessly, keeping his eye on you as you lean over to grab another orange chicken. “There’s someone that I have in mind.”

“Aw,” You coo, adjusting your position on the ground, continuing to give him all your attention. “What’s this person like? A family member? A friend?”

“Oh n-no,” He stammers, turning his head to the side to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s this girl that I knew. From high school.”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, well, a crush, huh? Who knew the infamous Spiderman has a soft spot? What’s she like? Do you bombard her with posters of Iron Man as well?”

He laughs tightly at that, because if only you knew, if only you knew. “I-I do, but I doubt she knows that I exist. But she’s—wow. She’s amazing. She’s been through a lot with me and I just, I just wished she knew how much she meant to me. I would do anything for her.”

He sneaks a look back at you, heart stuttering when he sees the glimmer of admiration in his eyes, as if the thought of him finding happiness in the simplest things and the most seemingly insignificant of moments and people made you happy and holy shit. This is it. This is why he’s been in love with you for three years, this is why he’s had and will always have a soft spot for you. “It sounds like you’re really fond of her. Well,” You add, a hint of grand finality in your tone as you take the last orange chicken and grin at his whine of protest. “I hope you’ll get the courage to tell her one day. You should definitely go all We Bought A Zoo on her.”

“We Bought A Zoo?” He repeats, furrowing his eyebrows as he watches you take that last lovely piece of orange chicken.

“Yeah,” You exclaim. “You know, that line.” You swallow, gaping slightly at his blank look. “That line! ‘Sometimes all you need is just twenty seconds of insane courage’. That should be your motto.”

You finish up your chow mein, too preoccupied with the sudden consumption of your food to notice his own dazed disposition. He rolls the quote in his mind. Twenty seconds. It didn’t sound too hard in theory. It could take twenty seconds to pull the mask off, twenty seconds to spill his guts and his love for you, twenty seconds to say it all.

Or, twenty seconds to rip the mask off, kiss your cheek, and throw himself out of the window; never to be seen again.

“I’ll consider it.” That’s all he settles with disclosing, watching as you hum around your bottled water.

(the past)

The third time you see Jeon Jungkook, it's the end of the day and the sound of a body making contact with the ground snaps you out of your resolve as you whip around to see the boy who has been occupying your thoughts for the past few days on the ground. His books and paperwork are scattered about and he suddenly looks smaller than he did getting shoved into a locker or sitting by himself in a sea full of people. The same group of boys from before are towering over Jungkook, equal smirks and snarls across ugly faces as a notebook is kicked away from the boy's grasp. It slides across the floor, hitting the heel of your shoe as you linger near your locker, trying to blend in yet make your feet move at the same time, Karly's previous warning in your mind be damned.

The warnings that leave lips go by completely unheard of by you as you find that the only thing you can focus on is Jungkook and his crumpled figure on the school floor, not moving an inch in or out of place as the boys give each other one last side glance before heading off in the opposite direction. Given that it's the end of another school day, the hallways are completely devoid of students, with the exception of you and Jungkook now. You watch him, and you don't know if he's watching you, but he definitely makes a point not to look up at you as he pushing himself up so he could sit on his knees. He starts reaching out, grabbing for his fallen books and pencils and notebooks, reminding you that one of his own spiral bound journals is near your feet.

You settle with not closing your locker, afraid that the noise of the slamming metal would disturb the unusual peacefulness that has settled between the pair of you, bending down instead to gather the notebook in your arms. The boy is just finishing up his collecting before you kneel down next to him. "Uh, I believe this is yours," You say by way of greeting, cursing the situation at once because out of all the things you could have possibly said in the English dictionary, you just had to say that. Of course the notebook was his, how could it not be after someone thought to kick it out of Jungkook's grasp as he was reaching for it.

You wish you had given yourself a second just to mentally prepare what to say before opening your mouth, if only to make the first words you ever said to this boy to be ones of comfort or reassurance and not ones of obvious means.

Jungkook swallows thickly, flickering his gaze up to you and you see it again: the isolation and loneliness and these different emotions each taking up a glimmer in his dark eyes. There is more of a hopelessness this time that you can read as clear as a book, and you wonder if anyone has ever been close enough to Jungkook physically to see this type of activity. Even more, if anyone has seen his eyes the way you see it and has actually tried to do something about it.

Given that he's still here, alone, probably as he's always been, does not do reassuring things to your stomach.

"Thanks," Jungkook says stiffly, voice low and somewhat cracked from underuse as he takes the notebook without even trying to meet your gaze.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through this," You say quickly before your mind could stop the words from escaping, not missing the way he visibly stiffens at your apology.

"You don't have to apologize," Jungkook grumbles, tucking the notebook you had given him underneath his arm. "You aren't doing anything wrong."

"I..." You start again, trailing off when the words fail you. For someone with too much to say, there seems to be only silence greeting you on the other side as there are so many things you long to say to Jungkook. But your shyness, your hesitance, your fear of disclosing too much and frightening him, or saying too much only to be met with even more quiet, keeps your throat closed. "No one deserves to go through what you're going through," You mumble instead, actually unsure if Jungkook can hear you or not.

With the way he suddenly turns his head to look at you, you can only assume that he has. Bravely, you lift your head up to meet his gaze, if only to take in that endless shade of darkness with a flickering of light that shimmers like a speck behind his eyes. You keep your eyes on him, even as his eyes roam across your face, clearly trying to gauge your expression for signs of sarcasm or amusement. You wonder if he's worried a group of people will come out with cameras, only to be told that the event going on before him had been nothing more than a means for a horrible, horrible prank. But you keep your silence, you keep your eyes on him to show off your genuine intentions.

Jungkook looks away suddenly, not quite sure how to hold himself in the face of you. You are, essentially, a stranger, yet you're here and you've somehow managed to say the right thing at the right time. He wonders if it would be appropriate to disclose how he recognized you immediately after he almost crashed into you that faithful morning at the lockers. Or, if it would be socially acceptable to blurt out how looking at you made him feel seen for the first time in his entire life.

But he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, as Jungkook straightens up and you quickly follow suit. The pair of you continue with your silence, unsure whether or not to break it, unsure if he should thank you for helping you out, or if you should continue supplying some kind of reassurance to the boy. For some reason, all those things feel excessive and unnecessary; which is why Jungkook leaves you by your locker with a sort of quiet understanding of one another. It's not a bad place to walk away from.

(the present)

Jungkook is no stranger to the white hot agony of physical pain, he’s definitely had his fair share of attacks that don’t always swing his way or enemies that have a lot more backup or quick wit or strength than Jungkook has. This is not new to him. In fact, the boy is actually quite use to returning back from his nightly adventures with bruises along his side or cuts along his face that take more than a few weeks to heal. He’s partially glad that his roommate nor do any peers bother to ask questions about his whereabouts or how he’s acquired certain scars in the first place—and it’s not like there’s anyone around him seeing him without a shirt on or anything of the sort. It helps with keeping his life private.

But this, this is new.

And by this, it means a knife wound right in his side, one that’s much too deep to rely on the healing abilities of his own body that makes every single step and every single flex of his body feel like someone is driving a metal fist right into his gut. A knife wound in the side, a slice along his cheek.

“Fucking shit,” He grunts, staggering out of the alleyway, gripping his side that’s warm and wet with blood—his blood and maybe some of the other guy’s too—but it doesn’t matter because there is pain and there is pain everywhere and he can practically taste it in his mouth and it’s like bile in the pit of his stomach. A part of him wants to roll onto the dirty sidewalk of the city, let the breeze take him away, but he can’t. He has something to return to, he has someone who’s waiting for him.

After a few moments of limping, he leans against a wall and pulls his hand away from the wound, only to be greeted with that burning torment of having a wound that deep so exposed. Immediately, he brings his wrist up and tugs at the fabric, exposing a watch.

12:03AM.

“Fuck,” He curses again, leaning against the wall, gritting his teeth, bringing a hand to his wound that now showed no signs of slowed bleeding. It was serious. He needed to go to a doctor.

He stills in his movement. No. He couldn’t do that.

He can’t even begin to lay out all the risks that come with going to the hospital. Doctors, as professional and careful and effortless they may seemed, asked question. Doctors required personal information. Jungkook didn’t trust doctors. He couldn’t.

He always thought that taking up the role of that friendly neighborhood Spiderman would keep people out of danger. And while it has, he’s put his own life at risk, threatened to bleed to death on the very ground he stood on.

He couldn’t go back home—his parents would have a fit and he wouldn’t survive the drive home.

He couldn’t ask his roommate—the boy would likely sell him out to Kim Namjoon and the whole school would likely find out. He couldn’t text his group from that one science project that one semester.

The boy furrows his eyebrows, but then it stops. His eyes widen.

He did have someone he could ask. He did have someone he could trust—someone he trusted more than was probably appropriate. But trust he did, and that was the best option he had so far. He had no choice. This was the only option.

After all, twenty seconds was all he needed to make up his mind, right?

(the past)

The fourth time you see Jungkook is marked by an aisle of novels and books, silence, and seeing him hunched over in the manga section of the school library. The sight makes you smile, as you are momentarily glad that you had dismissed yourself early from the cafeteria with the excuse that you really needed to check out a particular novel for an upcoming English assignment.

You find him so intensely immersed in his story that you almost feel guilty for breaking him out of his trance. But your need to say something to him is the driver of that last minute reflexive action as you take a step towards him. "Hi," You whisper once you're sure you're within earshot of the boy.

He jerks up at the noise so close to him, nearly dropping his book at the shock of your abrupt visit into his consciousness and you stare at him for a moment before he gives you a quick side glance and seems to deem your presence acceptance. "Uh, hey..." He returns, closing the book and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

You hold up your required novel. "I have to read The Great Gatsby for an extra credit assignment."

He nods slowly, cheeks looking as if they've been set aflame and you wonder if this is the longest conversation he's ever had with another person.

You take in a breath, steering yourself for the alternative routes of direction your new conversation starter could lead to. "How are you feeling? After what happened the other day?"

The other day is something that Jungkook already seems to understand, and although he doesn't look entirely too keen on brushing upon that particular topic, he does look relieved that the responsibility of keeping silence comfortable is no longer something he has to worry about. "I'm okay," He says with the shrug of his shoulders, and you study him closely, having already partially expected him to come up with that sort of answer. “T-Thank you for helping me with that. I don’t think I, uh, got to tell you that.”

You smile a little. "Of course. Like I said, it's not fair what people are trying to put you through." You look at your novel for a moment, before casting another look in his direction. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

Your smile is meant to be one of comfort and reassurance, but it seems to only make him more nervous. "Jungkook," He stammers out, looking over at you through his lashes and the sight is so strangely endearing that you can't help but muster a laugh.

"Well, it's nice to officially meet you, Jungkook," You say, unable to help yourself from speaking his name. It sounds nice on your tongue, a rolling effect, a slightly pouting of your lips. "I hope we'll see more of each other soon."

"M-Me too," He returns, casting another look at you whist reaching up to run a hand lightly through the locks of his hair. You're immediately set on noting that this is gesture Jungkook does when he's nervous and you wonder if you'll ever get the complete puzzle set that is Jungkook.

The pair of you bid each other goodbye with one last shy smile, one last shy wave, before you're turning on your heel and down the aisles. You miss the way Jungkook's eyes seem to follow your departing figure as it grows smaller and smaller the further away you move. Just before you reach the end of the aisle, Jungkook looks back down at the text, fixing his attention back down on the drawings of titans and a certain Eren Jaeger flinging his way to safety.

You do not turn the corner immediately upon reaching the end of the aisle. You stall, lingering in your movement for a moment, before risking one last look over your shoulders. You watch Jungkook, watch the way his lips curl up at the corners as the images on the page before him seem to jump out. You wonder what kind of story he's reading, what kind of pictures draw themselves out in his mind, if he's as brilliant as everyone claims him to be, and you wonder why how someone so calm could call in such a storm.

Your high school experience with Jungkook is categorized in this manner: stepping forward and reaching out, shy glances in the hallways when neither of you think the other is paying attention, shy smiles in the hallways as your gaze pierces Jungkook's from across the span of distance usually always placed between the pair of you and he lets his heart race at how completely tangible he feels when under your gaze.

(the present)

Jungkook never imagined that crawling up a wall would turn into such a struggle, since he's always managed to perform the task as easy as breathing or walking. But, then again, he didn't have a knife wound in the side during those previous times. It feels like needles are pulsing underneath his skin with every movement he takes, every inch he's crawling upwards towards your dorm. The window is opened, but it's the fear that you'll close it and close him out of your life that keeps him propelling forward.

Each reach up, each inch upwards evokes a gritting of teeth and a grunt of pain along every fiber of his nerves that makes everything feel like his body has been set on fire. He doesn't know if he'll make it, because the third floor is almost the same painful and longing sensation as scaling a fucking skyscraper and it's not enough. The bonding movement of his hands to the walls don't feel like enough, his strength doesn't feel like enough, and it feels like he's going to die; he's going to die right here and fall to his death and he's never going to do it. He's never going to tell you how he feels about you, he's never going to kiss your cheek, or use his twenty seconds of insane courage.

Somehow, someway, through the force of his sheer willpower, he crawls in through the opened window and practically falls to the ground.

"You're late!" There it is, that beautiful voice, something that seems to momentarily blind him from the pain and the fact that he's going to be bleeding all over your carpet very soon. "I thought you said you were bringing over Star Wars tonight for our exchange. I was really looking forward to telling you about this really awful thing my History professor said to one of the students today..."

He coughs instead, the weight of the pain making his head spin and holy shit, he's never felt anything like this before. He might pass out if he's not careful, if he lets the pain cloud his vision and his judgment.

"S-Spiderman?" You inquire, voice considerably softer and filled to the brim with concern as he feels a presence kneeling down beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright—!" You cut yourself off as soon as Jungkook rolls over to expose all the cuts that decorate his suit. "Oh my god," You whisper.

Jungkook peels open an eye, taking in your panicked expression, gaze wide with worry, and he tries to speak up. "It's... only a scratch," He manages.

You scoff, unable to believe he's trying to mask his pain with layers of humorless amusement. "Doesn't look like a scratch," You protest. "Oh my god. Can, uh, can you sit up for me?" You move closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and allowing him to lean on you as you do your best to pull him up into a sitting position. "How bad are the wounds?"

"I think it'll need stitches," He grumbles. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by like this..."

"Don't apologize," You reassure. "You're lucky, I just finished a first aid class on the campus. Except, I don't know how well I'll be with a needle..."

"It's okay," He cuts in, breathing shallow. "I trust you."

There is a silence that hangs in the air, one that you are quick to break with a noise of understanding that sounds from the back of your throat. "Okay, I'm going to take you to my bed now, so I'm gonna need you to stand up..."

A nod of understanding, another grunt as Jungkook grits his teeth, bites his lip, does anything to keep himself quiet and not worry you even more than he already has. He finds himself leaning heavily on you, the pain making his head spin as he grips onto you with a little more force than necessary. You do not seem to mind, letting him hold you like this as he rests himself down on your mattress.

You disappear for a moment, reappearing from your closet with a first aid kit. Your eyes narrow, taking in the torn fabric of his uniform. You bite your lip suddenly, as if struck by an idea that makes you nervous. "S-Sorry Spiderman. I hate to say this to you but, um, the suit as got to go. I won't be able to reach your wounds otherwise..."

"N-No, it's okay," Jungkook manages, the reality of the situation sinking in at about the same time the words leave his mouth. He really did not think this through, did not think about how those twenty seconds of insane courage he had saving up on would strike him when he least expected it. He should have known that of course he would have to reveal his identity to you someday; just not under these unusual circumstances and not when he's grappling with the pain that feels like needles in his temple now. "I understand."

"I can look away if you want," You offer kindly, but Jungkook just grits his teeth again, shakes his head.

"It’s fine,” Jungkook cuts in. “D-Do you mind helping me with the mask though?”

You swallow, probably knowing the direction this was taking much like him. “Of course.” You slowly place the first aid kit onto the desk next to your bed. You take a step towards him, and he finds himself naturally parting his legs for you to move between them. The close proximity makes both of you very much aware of the natural body warmth both of you seem to be emitting off.

The silence feels tense and suffocating, and Jungkook knows that his time is running out. Although he's not sure he's ready for you to see him for what he is beyond the mask, he remembers your talk about twenty seconds of courage and knows that this is the right thing to do. And he means what he said to you. He trusts you.

"Um," You start hesitantly. "Can I...?" You're gesturing to his mask.

"Y-Yeah," He stammers back, holding his breath as you gently grip the edge of the mask right at the base of his neck. He keeps his gaze locked on you, as you do with him, before you tug off the mask in one swift movement.

He watches you very carefully for your reaction, honestly expecting a look of betrayal for the fact that Jeon Jungkook has been Spiderman this entire time, or maybe even something of hurt, but he doesn't get that look of anger flashing behind eyes or anything else of the sort. He sees something flickering in your eyes, recognition and something else: something deeper and fonder, before that concern comes back with the full force of a train. "Jungkook?" You whisper, his name on your lips like his favorite melody. You haven't stepped away from him, haven't tried to build that wall, instead taking that second of silence to scan his face. Your eyes roam across every inch, from his nose to the cuts along his cheek, to his lips, to his eyes.

He tries for a weak smile. "H-Hi Y/N," He whispers back. His hands twitch, desperately longing to place them on your waist, if only to generate some sort of reaction to the big reveal. But it's at that moment that the pain at his side returns as he hisses between his teeth.

This is enough to startle you out of your previous resolve as you jump slightly and look down. "Do you think you can take the suit off for me?" You inquire quietly. "I-I know it might be difficult I just, I don't want to hurt you anywhere..."

The fact that there is no drastic change in your attention or attitude, even with knowing the truth of his identity, helps Jungkook relax slightly under your care. He manages a nod, and gets to work attempting to peel the suit off his upper body. It's hell trying to get his arms out, and even harder trying to tug the material down his body, but he tries to remain careful as he shifts and rolls his body until the suit is bunched at his waist.

You turn your attention back to him, and he watches the way your eyes trace down, outlining the muscles along his figure, from his arms to his collarbone, down to his chest and finally to the increasingly obvious wound at his side. You start forward, instructing Jungkook to lay on his side as you ready the materials out on your desk. “Have you ever gotten a wound stitched?” You inquire.

He shakes his head. “Just do it,” He manages, gaze roaming across the room and realizing that he should probably try to focus his attention on something. Eventually, he settles on your face. He takes in the furrowed eyebrows and the eyes that study his wound. He grits his teeth, trying to remind himself that he is here and he is alive and he trusts you and your intentions on not hurting him too much, even after you start. There are little pinches of pain, some parts worst than others, but the sight of you here, not running away, is enough to keep Jungkook’s nerves and anxiety on the low. “Are you surprised?” He finds himself asking after a few beats of long silence that take on neither a comfortable or an uncomfortable sensation.

You’re quiet for a moment, clearly trying to decide how to go about his question. “I probably shouldn’t have been,” You finally settle on disclosing. “In hindsight, it should have been obvious. Only you would do something so selfless for the sake of other people.”

He stills at that, turning his attention up to the ceiling of your room, so caught up in your words that he doesn’t notice that you’ve finished healing up his wound until you’re wrapping it up.

“Okay, your side is done,” You say, placing the needle in the alcohol to clean it off. “Can you sit up for me? I want to take care of the cut on your cheek.”

Jungkook does what he is asked, gingerly pushing himself up to resume his position of sitting up on the edge of your mattress. Legs open, you step between them. His gaze continues to follow you as you bring a cloth to his face to start gently dabbing at the cut. It stings, but he keeps his mouth shut, and you can probably see the pain flaring up in his eyes like fireworks. He watches you the whole time, eyes big and adoring and careful all at once, that it’s almost necessary that he has to say the next words. “I’m sorry,” He whispers.

You pause. “For what?”

It’s almost amusing how quiet the pair of you are. It’s the weekend, the halls are probably deserted and your roommate had already given you the heads up that she would be spending all of her time in her boyfriend’s apartment so it’s not like anyone would come bursting in or threatening to break the air that has settled between the pair of you. But it’s like this moment is private, intimate, as Jungkook reveals a part of his life he’s kept hidden in the shadows for two and a half years and you, perhaps his biggest secret of all, telling him that it’s okay.

“For not telling you earlier,” He answers. You shift your gaze from the cut on his cheek to his eyes and the pair of you are so close that he’s fairly confident that you can hear his heartbeat. “I wanted to, it’s just…”

“I know,” You cut in gently and he breathes out, because that air of understanding that had developed in high school has only remained the longer the pair of you look at each other. He wonders if you can read his eyes just as he can, he wonders if you can see the overwhelming amount of affection that curls at his heart, the way he can’t stop flickering his gaze down to your lips, the way he’s practically shaking at the close proximity. “That question about the totem from the other day,” You bring up after a moment, lifting your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb lightly dusting over his skin in a gesture that seems almost mindless but Jungkook doesn’t care. “Who were you talking about?”

But she’s—wow. She’s amazing. She’s been through a lot with me and I just, I just wished she knew how much she meant to me. I would do anything for her. The words that Jungkook had spoken about aforementioned totem come barreling back to him. “I thought it was obvious,” He says, light humor and he averts his gaze. “I was talking about you.”

He turns his attention back to you, heart ramming in his throat, laying everything down on the line. He watches your unreadable expression carefully, before you flit your gaze and you’re staring right back at him. He sees the memories that unfold behind your eyes like flashes of a movie, from the very first time you saw him in the hallway, then the library, and every little moment afterwards that made him feel cared for and watched over.

Without a warning, your grip on his face tightens just the slightest to pull him upwards as you lean forward to deliver a chaste kiss against his mouth. Actually, it should hardly constitute for a kiss. It’s just a brushing of the lips, but it’s enough to send a shiver of electricity through Jungkook’s whole body. It’s like he’s being brought back to life, all the reflexive power returning back to his limbs. Just before you could pull back, he reaches up to grip your waist, pushing you against him so he could crush his lips back to yours. Your lips are just as soft and warm as he’s always pictured it to be, and the sensation of that on top of you lightly tracing patterns along his jawline makes him moan.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath, but Jungkook keeps your body pressed to yours, hands tight on your waist, overtaken by the desire to plant kisses along your neck. “Jungkook,” You whisper breathlessly, trailing off, tilting your head to the side and getting lost in the sensation of his lips tracing across your skin. “Y-You’re hurt, maybe we shouldn’t—!” You start, already getting an idea for the direction this was heading, if the burning fire starting in the pit of your stomach or the hardness pressing against your stomach is an indication to go by.

“I don’t care,” Jungkook interrupts, hands traveling up to cup your face. “I’ve waited so long for this.” He brings you forward to kiss him again, and you melt underneath his touch, the tenderness you’ve always felt for him coming back to hit you with the full force of a bullet train. You can taste the sweetness on his lips, the softness and the love he holds for you in his touches, which are soft in contradiction to the frantic desperation of his lips.

Although you’re still hesitant about his injuries, Jungkook gives you little choice to dwell on the manner because soon, he’s scooting higher up onto your bed and bringing his hands back down to your waist to attempt to bring you up too. As soon as he settles back down, head on your pillow and body lying completely flat on the bed, does he pull you forward in to straddle his waist. You lean forward, planting both hands on either side of his head to ensure not putting all your weight onto his wounds before kissing him again. He kisses back urgently, angling his head, using a hand to curl around the back of your neck. You emit soft noises from the back of your throat as he continues dragging out your moans.

You’re close, but you’re suddenly not close enough, and he can’t seem to feel enough of you. Your warmth floats from your body, curling around him and blinding his senses to everything but you. He whimpers, using the hand still at your waist to push you against his body and you melt, you fold into his touches and his physical commands—!

Your knee accidentally nudges the wound at his side; a soft tap that feels intensified by a sharp spike of pain. There’s a gasp as Jungkook pulls away, the waves of pain momentarily electrifying a part of his brain that distracts him from the current subject at hand.

You pull away at once. “Are you okay?” You inquire immediately. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you—?”

It feels as if Jungkook is getting sagged back to reality and the question generates a violent shake of his head. “No, no,” He whines, opening his eyes when you cup his cheek with one of his hands, shaking his head again at the concern that floods his features. “I’m okay, just keep kissing me, please.”

He cranes his neck back up to kiss you again, swallowing your protests until you’re too caught up to continue speaking. You yield to him once more, and Jungkook desperately tugging up your sleeping shirt to feel along the hot skin of your waist. It feels like his mind is trying to roll through honey, still quite unable to believe that you’re here, on his lap, kissing him back. He chokes on a moan when you start rolling your hips against his, the additional friction making the blood rush straight down between his legs.

“Y/N,” He stammers, a panting mess as you pull away and immediately start dusting kisses along his jawline, down his neck, below his ear. He’s already a mess, he’s already too sensitive for this onslaught of emotions to his system. Both his hands have now found their way to your waist, holding onto you much too tightly, if only to keep him grounded when it feels like all he wants to do is spin out of control. “I haven’t… I’ve never done this before…” He finds himself confessing in a breath, letting it float in the around the pair of you.

He feels you smile against his neck. “It’s okay.” You shift slightly. “Just relax Jungkook,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, sending vibrations up his spine. “Let me take care of you.”

Suddenly, you push yourself up into a sitting position and tug off your night shirt. Jungkook’s eyes widen, jaw slacking when he realizes that you aren’t wearing a bra underneath. “Holy shit…” He whispers, drawing patterns along your skin as his gaze continues to stare unblinkingly at your exposed upper figure, as if he’s afraid that this is a dream, as if he’s afraid this would all fade away if he didn’t appreciate every second of this moment the way he should have. “You’re so beautiful—mm.” His voice fade away to a moan as you slowly start to rock your hips against his once more, applying pressure over his erection. Even with the cloth of his suit and boxers, it’s like he can feel everything and he whimpers. He cranes his head back, baring his neck towards you, hands curling tighter around your waist. Relying purely on instinct, he finds himself meeting your grinding movements in a way that leaves you breathless.

"You're not so bad yourself," You manage fervently, leaning forward to press your palms against his shoulders in order to steady yourself. The foundation of having something sturdy underneath your touch allows you to press harder, teasing your core over his length.

Jungkook lifts his head up, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over, gaze narrowing at the movement of your hips against his. The sight of seeing him so wrecked because you is enough to make the desire pulse through you as you speed up the pace of your rolls.

Sucking in a breath between gritted teeth, Jungkook's head falls back against the pillows. "Y/N," He whines, high pitched and filled with so much need that it makes your head spin. "Y/N, I... I need..."

"What do you need, Jungkook?" You coax, trying to keep your mind together enough to ask him a question. "Tell me what you need."

The flush that dusts his cheeks merely deepens at the gentle request to spell out what exactly he wanted you to do to him. He's never been too eloquent with words, so he stammers. It doesn't help that you continue rolling your hips against his clothed cock, the additional fabric adding to the friction that only seems to dip his mind further into ecstasy. He opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows thickly when you lean down to kiss his cheek, his upper lip, the gesture surprisingly chaste for the hell you're putting him through down below.

You giggle lightly, smiling against his cheek, taking pride and amusement at your ability to render him completely speechless. "Do you want me to take the suit off?"

He nods quickly, thankful that you could not only detect his clear struggle, but also filling in his voice with your own. "Y-Yeah."

You pull back, flashing another reassuring smile as you move down his body just enough, tugging at the suit that has collected at his waist and pulling it down his legs. You only make it down to his ankles before he's pulling you back and using his own feet to rid of the rest of his suit and boxers. He kisses you harder, the excitement and the nervousness and the anticipation of what would follow making his hands shake, as they settle on the waistband of your sleeping shorts. He attempts to tug down once, twice, but he can't seem to get the direction right and you're laughing against his mouth.

"Don't laugh," He whines, tugging on your bottom attire once more time. "Take this off, Y/N."

"You're so assertive Jeon," You tease lightly, but you pull back enough for him to see your own glazed expression. Keeping your eyes on him, you tug down the last remaining articles of clothing separating the pair of you. The shifting in the bed signals the kicking up of your legs to rid of the shorts and panties entirely. Both of you refuse to break eye contact the entire time until finally, you break it to look down to take in the sight of his length, hard and needy with the tip spilling over with precum and the sight is so mouthwatering that a part of you longs to just slide down Jungkook's body to score a taste, to see if perhaps he tastes as sweet as his tongue does.

But the sound of his voice breaks you out of your previous resolve, his hands moving up and down your side to get your attention. "Should we, uh," He starts, clearly embarrassed and nervous and hesitant at the sight of being exposed to one another. "Do we, well, do you have a... um..."

Your face breaks out into another fond smile. You lean down to kiss reassurance onto his lips. "I'm on the pill," You report. "Are you sure about this Jungkook?"

He watches you carefully for a long second, that previous lust and haze in his eyes dissipating for just a moment and being replaced with something more steady, something more confident, something more loving. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

Your heart stutters in your chest for just a moment at his trust, at his hope, in you, and in what the pair of you could become. You sit up, lifting yourself up by the knees and gently taking him to rub him over your slit. Jungkook reacts immediately to this by sucking in a breath, and you hardly give him time to think or process or overcome the sensation before you're lining the tip to your entrance and sinking onto him. The stretch is overwhelming that you throw your head back into a whimper, eyebrows furrowing, as Jungkook is emitting something drawn between a desperate whine and a sigh of finally getting to feel you around him.

"Y/N," He chokes out, hands settling back at your waist as soon as you've gone hilt deep, fingers digging into the skin with more force than before, leaving you little doubt that there would be bruising within the next few days. But you don't care, and he doesn't care. Your hands find refuge on his shoulders once more, gripping tightly, finding foundational comfort in the touch, as you use that base to help you rise up his length slowly before sliding down his cock. "O-Oh fuck," Jungkook moans, arching his back at the sensation, just as you're whimpering out his name. "Oh fuck Y/N, do that again. Do that again please."

You're too caught up to reply, so you merely settle with repeating the movement until you've developed a pace that has the both of you whining and groaning in timing to the rhythm. Once Jungkook starts to gain a sense of the tempo of your hips, he acquires half a mind to start returning the thrusts.

"Mm, Jungkook," You whine, driving yourself faster down his length. "Just like that, ah!" You crane your neck up slightly in response to the overwhelming pleasure that floods your system right when Jungkook hits the spot that makes you sees stars. Feeling your release just right there, you bring one hand up to rub at your clit, the sensation making you dub over and Jungkook watches the sight of you adding additional pleasure to yourself with deep interest.

"Y/N," He groans out, trying to focus on helping you reach your end first before he could blow his load right then and there. It vaguely surprises him with just how long he's been able to last up until this point, but he's not going to survive much longer, as he feels himself beginning to get dragged towards the edge at an alarmingly quicker pace. "L-Let me."

You open an eye to peer down in time to see him brushing away your fingers from your clit, immediately replacing them with his thumb. As soon as he touches the bundle of nerves, you tense up, your lips parting slightly as the ecstasy you feel goes beyond the vocal capability. "Yes Jungkook," You whine. "Right there, right there, right there, oh god, I'm gonna—!" Your eyes shut tightly together as your lips part in a silent scream as the white hot pleasure courses through your system and light a fire to every single one of your nerves.Your hips slow down. Your legs tremble on either side of him before the high of your release fades away and is gradually replaced with overstimulation. With a high pitched whimper of protest of Jungkook's fingers still on your clit, he pulls his fingers away. He, however, does not stop pumping in and out of you. His thrusts increase in force, since he no longer has you to meet him halfway.

Overwhelmed with the large amount of pleasure washing over your body like a wash, you fall against the boy's chest, trembling from the new pace that he has set. Feeling you shake against him, Jungkook wraps his arms around your frame to keep you in place and, quickly forgetting the stinging in his side from the adrenaline surging through his body, starts rutting up into you. Still spent and recovering from your earlier release, you are left with no choice but to grip the blankets next to you to try and stop the room from spinning, gasping and whimpering Jungkook's name until he's reaching his own end. He groans loudly, his first release hitting him like a train as he drops a broken version of your name into the void. He rides out his high, slowing down the rhythm of his hips until he's stopping entirely.

The room is filled with the sounds of pants and heavy breathing, the frantic heartbeat against each of your chests gradually starting to slow down into something more normal as the pair of you bask in one another's presence.

Finally, Jungkook pulls himself out of you and you whine momentarily at the loss before you lift yourself from Jungkook's chest to roll onto his side. Your eyes roam his face, taking in the sweaty complexion and the flushed cheeks, the half-lidded way he's watching you, and you reach out to brush some of the hair out of his face.

"That was so..." Jungkook speaks after a moment, staring right back at you. "Wow."

You laugh. "Wow indeed."

"Does this mean..." He speaks suddenly, lowering his head slightly to show his bashfulness on the subject. "Does this mean that you... that we...?"

"Does this mean that I like you?" You fill in softly, soft laughter filling the room. "Well, I don't ask anyone if I could take off their suit."

Jungkook bites his lip, reaching over to take some of your hair and tuck it behind your ear. "I really, really care about you Y/N," He manages thickly. "And I don't think... I wouldn't want... It's just that I..."

You press a finger to his lips. "Did you mean it?" You whisper.

"Mean what?"

"That I was your totem."

He doesn't hesitate to answer. "Yeah." He nods. "I meant it all." He pauses for a moment. “Did you mean it?” He returns. “When you said it should have been obvious that I was Spiderman?”

“Well, maybe not obvious, but… it makes sense,” You explain. “You’ve always been selfless and understanding and thoughtful. You always care so much for other people, even if people might not care for you. And you’re really funny, Jungkook. You’ve always been quiet and trying to hide from the world.”

“But you always saw me,” He fills in.

“Of course I did.” You say this like it should have been obvious, and it’s in that statement that he’s sure. Twenty seconds, right?

"I know that me being Spiderman might... make things complicated,” He starts with a cough. “But, uh, do you think I could... if we could go out some time?"

You look at him, smile dusting along your features as if he's just returned from hanging all the stars in the sky just for you. "I thought you'd never ask, Jungkook." You shift slightly to prop your head up slightly. "Was there something you had in mind?" Your eyes widen as soon as you ask the question before you're leaning forward to rest a hand against his chest. "Wait. Can we go swinging around the city?" You inquire, bright smile reaching every corner of your eyes as you crane your neck up to stare at him fondly.

Jungkook's shoulders shake with his laughter as he moves downwards slightly to kiss your forehead. "Anything for you."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts scenario #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #repost: workofteaguk #traci writes

3K notes · View notes