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junghelioseok · 4 years

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clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend!au #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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hannah-deactivated20220725 · 3 years

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2020 End of Year Friendship Post

Alright, you guys know that I love to make gushing posts about people I’ve grown fond of.

Well, I’ve decided to make a big one for the end of the year. Celebrate the friendships I’ve created and/or maintained in the last year. This is obviously not EVERYBODY as I have shit memory and some of my friends have left the site (T_T) but this list will be a bit long, so I’m gonna post everything under a cut so that it doesn’t bother people having to scroll past it. (: to the people not mentioned in this but that follow me: thank you so much for supporting me & my writing adventure. I know that my blog has been through ups and downs, has changed immensely in the course of the past year, but I hope that you guys still enjoy and do not regret following it.

If you do, feel free to unfollow. I understand that some of you probably followed me for my games or events, which I no longer post here. If you do follow for my games, don’t forget I have a blog centered around writer games now!! You can find it at mywritinggames. You don’t have to follow this blog if you just followed for games. You can follow that blog. I won’t be offended. <3

Alright, enough of that. Let’s get into some lovey-dovey mushy-gushy words of adoration for all a lot of my friends!

PS here’s a list of everyone I tagged on here with comments and the paragraph number in case you want to skip straight to your mush comments:

1. Toby 2. Franka 3. Szandra 4. Raev 5. Jade 6. Lynxxie 7. Ravage 8. Andy 9. Pax 10. Keena 11. Ariadne 12. Ellie 13. Katie 14. Etta 15. Jake 16. Aurelien 17. LJ 18. Fatal 19. Avery 20. Amanda 21. Ari 22. Galaxy 23. Elizabeth 24. Dawny 25. Cat 26. Kry 27. Eris 28. Vermont 29. Erin 30. Piya

The final paragraph is a general comment to everyone, so please make sure to read the final paragraph as well! Thank you all for existing, for staying alive through a rough year, for being here for me and for being my friends. You are all amazing and deserve everything, all the energy love and positivity you put into the world. <3 I love you guys!

1. @lordkingsmith - I’ve already beaten this dead horse, but you are SO INCREDIBLE and I have no idea what my entire mentality would be if not for you. You’ve saved me from giving up on my dreams multiple times by your positivity and always knowing how to help me!! Any time something happens, you’re right there with a solution and it’s mind boggling. You’re literally the only person that can be like “here, help yourself this way” and I won’t get upset about it because I trust you in a way I trust SO few people. You are my little brother and I am so, so happy Jason Zephyr and a stupid tomato guessing game brought us together ;)

2. @franky-ts - girl... you’ll always be my twinny. Always, always. I can’t imagine life without you in it. Even through me deleting my blogs what, 3-4 times now since we met? I always come back to you. You are always the top 2-3 people I search for when I come back because you are my twinny and if I don’t get to have a tumblr experience without you, I don’t want it! <3 I love everything about you and I’m so glad to know you. I’m so grateful to have friends like you that always reach out to me and try to cheer me up when I’m feeling down. I always want to share my ups and downs with you. If not for the damned timezone difference, I probably would. Love you, sis.

3. @catharticallysarcastic - probably my favorite person I rarely speak to ;) A friendship started with writer games and the beauty of her name (Szandra for those that don’t know)... you are a remarkable and beautiful person and you deserve the world and all of your dreams with it. I wish this world was perfect so you could live in a perfect world because you, my friend, are great. And sweet. And amazing! Thank you for being a good friend to me.

4. @raevenlywrites - I know we don’t talk much anymore. I don’t really bombard you with asks like I used to, but I do still cherish you, not only as a writer, but as a person. You have a beautiful heart and are such a caring individual. You will go out of your way for other people and this world needs MORE PEOPLE like that! You are incredible and I hope you reach the absolute apex of what you think life should be. That is my 2020 wish for you. <3

5. @jade-island-lives - Jade.... Jade, Jade. Another great friend that’s been here through my ups and downs of a couple of different blogs I’ve ended up remaking. Jeez, it’s been so long I can’t even remember how we met. But I’m so, so glad we did. You are beautiful. You are so caring and kind. Your writing is amazing and your characters are just... *chef kiss* But this isn’t about your writing, as amazing as it is. This is about you. This is about how amazing YOU, as a person, are. This is about how much I love and appreciate you as a person. This is about how much I am grateful to have friends like you in my life. This about how you’ve been here for me through so much and how I can’t imagine if I’d never met you. Even though we rarely talk like we used to, I still cherish you like we talk every freaking day. Life gets busy, especially as adults. Shit happens, life gets hard. But through everything, just know I love you and am always, no matter what, here for you. <3

6. @wyldlynxx - Lynxxieeee ~ my little Nane fangirl xDDDD you are amazing. You don’t give yourself near enough credit for how awesome you are. You make me laugh and so happy to be alive. We don’t chat like we used to, which... to be fair there are very few that I do still talk to regularly. But I still love you and our friendship. I wouldn’t trade it - for you - for anything. (: I hope one day we can catch up again and start chatting more again because our chats always, always put a smile on my face.

7. @mrs-raven-writes - Ravage! My savage little Ravage!! My buddy! Hey! Hi! You are awesome. Our conversations are so unique every time. We don’t just have the typical ‘hi how are you’ talks. I mean yes, sometimes we do if it’s been a while since we chatted, but for the most part, we’ve had all different kinds of talks. My favorite is when you randomly approached me saying you almost threw down with someone because of a game. xD And finding out that even through your absence you still keep track of me? T_T I was so flattered and still am. You are amazing and you also do not give yourself near enough credit for how amazing you are. I am so glad to know you and I hope that 2021 treats you better than 2020 did because I’d love more than anything for you to message me telling me how incredible you feel and how much life has improved. I freaking love you, girl, and I want nothing but happiness and love for you. (:

8. @violetcancerian - Andyyyyyyyy~ hi!!! omg what to say... I’m not even sure how to say what I want to say. xD A friendship forged by mutual love of King Arthur fiction... turned into what it is now. Even though we rarely ever talk anymore, I still feel so close to you... and I hope that you know that you’re still a very special friend to me. ^_^ you are so sweet and so ENTHUSIASTIC! You spread so much love to others and it just makes me smile! It makes me so happy to see you on my dash, not just for the fics, but for YOU. You, as a person, are worth so much, and I hope you get everything you ever wanted because I want nothing but the best for you, my friend! Happy new year and thank you so much for being my friend. <3

9. @magic-is-something-we-create - Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaxy!! One of my most enthusiastic friends! I always know that I can just chat your ear off about the things that have me excited because you just get so excited with me! You’re like my “pump me up” buddy because your excitement then causes me to get more excited! Instead of mocking my hyperfixations, you get enthralled with me, and I LOVE that!!! You are so encouraging and so increidbly sweet and thoughtful. You always put a smile on my face and even when it’s been weeks since we’ve chatted, our conversations are never stale. I always know if I message you, we’re about to have a fun, exciting conversation. I never get bored of our chats or of you because you’re just so FUN and put such a big smile on my face!!! I love the friendship we’ve built and I really, honestly hope it never ends because you’re amazing. <3

10. @keen2meecha - hey, buddy! We haven’t really chatted in a while but I wanted to include you because we used to chat a lot more. And it was so fun getting to know you and sharing my passions with you. I really hope that we get into touch more in 2021 because I never want to lose that bond we shared back when we chatted more! I enjoy so much talking with you and getting to know your works and sharing mine with you! I hope you have an phenomenal 2021, my friend.

11. @confundere - another buddy that I always look for when I restart my blog (which has happened an embarrassing amount of times). Ariadne is a passionate person with so much to offer this world and I cannot imagine ever restarting my blogs without contacting her. You are someone I think of frequently, even if we don’t chat as much as we used to, and I’m so glad to have met you. (: thank you for being such a great friend to me, and for being so supportive of me. I hope you have a terrific 2021. Happy new year, friend!

12. @howdy-writes - Ellieeee~ we have had many fun chats via our posts and I have massively enjoyed going from “oh what a cute blog” to “wow this girl is amazing!” I have enjoyed from going “aw how cute, she likes lesbian cowgirls” to “this girl IS a lesbian cowgirl!” You have so many incredible layers that are so fun to figure out and you are such a joy to get to know! I’m so glad I got the courage to reach out to you and talk to you because you are one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met on this site. You always have nothing but sweet things to say and I just.... I look up to you so much. Your kindness, your positivity, your love. You, all-in-all, are a role model I wish I’d grown up watching. I hope that all the youngesters following you realize that you are someone to look up to. ^_^

13. @abalonetea - you... oh, Katie, you. It still makes me laugh how long it took me to stop calling you Emily in my head xDDD you’re incredibly talented. But beyond that, you’re a great friend. Always supporting others. Always willing to be there for others. You’re a great person and deserve as much love and support, if not more, as you give. You are so kindhearted and just all around, the best kind of friend to have. Thank you for being one of mine. <3

14. @ettawritesnstudies - one of my newer friends from this year! It was so fun collabing on a positivity event with you! My hope is we can do something like that again because you were a joy to work with. ^_^ you are so kind though. So kind and so thoughtful and supportive. You are exactly the kind of friend I want in my real life. You are the kind of person I could see myself really opening up to and texting every day if I knew you irl. People like you are what make this world worth living in and people like you are what make the world a nicer, better place. I’m so grateful to know you and that you decided to join tumblr. Thank you for everything this year and I look forward to another year of friendship!

15. @homesteadchronicles - Jaaake!! Omg we don’t chat like we did when I was first recommended your blog, but I still cherish every conversation. I cherish every hi and am always sad when we have to part ways. I think about you frequently, even if we don’t always talk. I’m always wondering how you are, how your writing’s going, how your year’s going. You have been a joy to get to know and I really hope one day we can start chatting more again because our conversations always leave me with a smile on my face by the end, and I simply cannot say that about just anybody. Happy new year, friend, and I hope you have a terrific 2021.

16. @copperplatescript - Aurelien!!! I’ve probably said it before but I LOVE your name. It’s so unique compared to names I’ve heard in the past. But beyond that, there’s an amazing person attached to the name!! I love sharing things with you because interesting conversation always follows. You are so fun to chat with and you have so much interesting stuff to share! Your fascinations are so fascinating and it’s so much fun watching the progression of your projects!! I miss our chats but I know 2020 has been a hectic year for most. I just hope 2021 brings more fun and fascinating conversation and brings us closer as friends ^_^ thank you for several months of a wonderful friendship. (:

17. @ljscrawls - sheesh, I can’t believe it took me this long to get to LJ!!!! My buddy ol’ pal. Talented, sweet, fun, funny!!! Pretty much all the best traits in one amazing person. You always bring a smile to my face and leave me feeling so freaking special. There are very few that can make me laugh, cry, flattered and just so happy in one single conversation. You bring so much joy and love in my life and I just can’t imagine ever losing your friendship. And I hope I never have to because I don’t want to be without you in my life. ^_^ thank you for being such a great friend. I love ya!!

18. @fatal-blow - I know we’re not like SUPER close or anything. But I wanted to let you know that you are amazing. Not just because your talent is beyond anything I have the words to voice but... you are such a fun, passionate person to speak with and it’s fun watching you talk about things you love, especially your characters. The way that you make your characters feel so familiar when you talk about them, like you’re talking about an old friend. It’s simply inspiring. I’m so glad I found your blog and started commenting on your posts because the conversations that have ensued due to it have been so memorable. I’ll never forget you, even long after I stop being on tumblr, whenever that happens. Thank you for everything.

19. @just-a-little-bit-of-sugar - girrrrl. You’re someone that I really miss. You are so sweet, just like your name implies, and such an uplifting person to talk about. You’re so positive, and you know. I do really cherish that about you but that isn’t what makes you so special to me. Everyone has down days and I don’t ever want to make you feel like I’ll appreciate you any less for having them, like your positivity is the only thing that makes you worth friendship. Good or bad days, you are a great friend and I want to be here to celebrate the good and help you through the bad! You’ve been a great friend to me over the last year and I only hope you can say the same to me. <3 hope you’re doing well.

20. @amandahoyle - god, our friendship started with a mutual love of DARK writing. Started with my writing of Death Has a Face and other dark stories centered around death and your series I’m reading with DEFINITE darkness in it.... but it evolved into this beautiful thing it is now, that I wouldn’t trade for the world. You are a remarkable friend, always having nothing but nice words for me and I so appreciate how you lift me up during hard times. You’re always here for me and willing to help bring me out of my own personal darkness. And I love and appreciate that so much about you. You are a phenomenal friend and I just don’t want to imagine ever losing your friendship. Thank you for being so kind and so patient with me over the last several months. I’m so grateful to have you in my life, even if just virtually.

21. @leafgreen6 - Ariiiii!!!!!!! One of my earlier friends! I met you through Galaxy and our friendship kind of blossomed. The three of us together create quite a dynamic trio even if we don’t chat together like we used to. You are amazing. I hope you realize how incredible you are. You’re so beautiful, inside and out, and you are so caring toward your friends. You love and support those around you and have such a beautiful heart. You are talented af and a total badass. <3 I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. Thank you. Thank you.

22. @books-of-lunacy - Jesus! Girl, we literally never talk anymore! I hope you’re well. I miss you. We forged a great friendship that I will never, ever forget, even if it fades away. Because you’ve been amazing over the months and I’m so glad to have met you virtually. I used to imagine if we met in person many times xD and I think you’d be a fun person to like go on adventures with at midnight, when the world around us is asleep. (: I’m glad to know you and I hope that 2021 brings you joys that 2020 tried to take away. Miss you and again, I hope you’re well. Thank you for being a friend.

23. @incandescent-creativity - we used to chat sooo much when I discovered your blog, when I originally created this blog! You were one of the first people I sought out when I recreated it because you inspire me SO MUCH. Your passion for your writing and characters... your kindness when answering questions... your silliness and just overall personality and attitude, it all inspires me. Every. Damn. Day. I know I haven’t done my “ask spree” stuff I used to do frequently, which got you accustomed to my url (and was also the reason you apparently actually noticed my disappearance when I deleted my original blog) but just know that I think about you frequently. Not just as a writer and creator, but as a person. As an amazing, inspiring person that I strive to be more and more like. You are incredible. Thank you for showing the world who you are.

24. @dawnsplaceyt - I know you’ve been busy lately and life has gotten hectic but I just wanted to let you know I still think of you frequently and am grateful for the friendship we’ve built over the last year. You are such a warm person with so much passion and love and I’m so glad to have been one of the people that got to witness that. I am so thrilled that your relationship took the next step and I can’t wait to see you start the next chapter of your life. <3 I hope you’re doing well and that the end of 2020 and all of 2021 treat you well. Love ya girl.

25. @missionkitty - Jesus. I can’t believe you’re all the way down at 25. But either way, here we are. One of my favorite people that I met through the odds of an otome game we share a passion for. Your art is breathtaking. I love your style and you as a person are just as breathtaking. You are so free and passionate!! You have so much love for the things you care about and that is so admirable. I look up to you so much, especially as an artist! I strive to be more like you one day. <3 thank you for being so amazing! I look forward to another year of friendship.

26. @kryskakikomi - okay, we know each other more through games and events than we do through actual chats, but I’ve always WANTED to talk to you... and build a friendship? One of my goals for 2021 is to do more outreach toward people I have wanted to talk to but never quite got the nerve to reach out to and you’re one of the top on the list!! I’m thrilled we’ve had interactions at all but I’d be so happy if we could have more in the coming year! Hope your year goes well. (:

27. @leave-her-a-tome - uh, you’re awesome. Enough said, next! No, just kidding. xD but I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re awesome. Even just seeing you on my dash gives me a thrill. You have so much talent, yet are so humble about it and are so happy to support others. It’s quite inspiring to see someone that is so incredible be so down to earth and not full of themself. You are so fun to chat with too! Our chats are usually short but they still bring me such joy. To know that someone as amazing as you LIKES to chat with me? Humbling. And thrilling at the same time! I will never, ever forget you or the time we’ve spent talking and working together!! Thank you for everything and for the support and I hope you have a great 2021!

28. @vermontwrites - okay, I know we haven’t spoken much since the Prompt Pals days but I really enjoy your presence - both on my dash and my DMs. You have been through so much yet hold strong. Yes, I know some days are really hard for you but your strength and resilience are inspirational. I hope you know you’re not alone and that I’m here if you need someone to lean on, if you need someone to vent to. You aren’t alone. You don’t have to push through everything alone. You have friends that care and that want to be here for you. You are incredible and deserve love and friendship. I hope you recognize that. Thank you for sticking around and for being you. I hope 2021 goes better for you, my friend.

29. @rhikasa - okay. I know, we mostly communicate via games, but you have been such a positive force on my dash and notes in the last year. I know we don’t chat much but I do still appreciate you and want you to know that. I don’t know like if you think about me beyond the games, but I certainly do think about you and am always hoping you’re having a great day/night. You’re awesome and creative and kindhearted and I’m so appreciative to have you as a mutual. <3

30. @piyawrites - Piya!!! We haven’t really communicated in a long time but I still cherish the times we did chat. We have had so many good conversations with giggles and enthusiasm and support and I love your energy! You’re such a positive force and such a great person to know and chat with and I’m so so grateful for that. You’re wonderful and I hope you recognize the light that you shine on others lives because you do. And you deserve that same level of loving energy that you bring to others. Thank you for being a part of my online world.

Thank you everyone that is listed on this. You are are all so freaking wonderful and each and every one of you hs made a difference in my life. You all have played a big part in why I have stayed on this site and I cherish each and every one of you for all kinds of reasons. I hope you all know how loved and appreciated you are and I wish you all a very happy New Year. May 2021 show many improvements upon the last year <3

#mushy post #love #love for my friends #end of year appreciation post #my friends #lovey dovey post #30 tags of love #friendos #friendo love

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twokinkybeans · 3 years

Note

Hello! I absolutely love all of your stories! I have a request, can you do a Starker story where Peter and his class go on a field trip to stark tower? I don’t really mind what happens there I just really want to see the ship. If you can thanks so much 💗

CHAPTER 2: BACKPACK

(Read chapter 1: Science Rules on Tumblr / AO3)

Summary: Peter is 14. Recently got his Spider powers and is no longer friends with Flash. Ned is in the picture. They go on a high school excursion and Peter is set on finding Tony to ask if he can join the Avengers. Side note: Tony is not romantically/sexually interested in Peter until chapter 3, when they are in an established relationship. Warnings: Angst. They talk about death whilst not actually mentioning it. Flash is an absolute asshole as always.

Rating: Mature (just to be sure for later on lol).

I actually had this one finished last Sunday but never got around to posting it. It isn’t edited at all, so I hope you enjoy! :P -Lien

“Mister Thompson, if you don’t take a seat this instant, it’ll be detention for you,” Mister Harrington threatens. Flash immediately presses his ass back into his seat and grins at Peter from a distance. They might resent each other now, but their infinite common interest in science, technology and Tony Stark has never faded. They don’t really talk to each other anymore and Peter is not expecting their broken friendship to ever be mended. Not with how Flash treats him these days, at least. The first cracks in their friendship appeared during their last visit to Stark Industries, when Flash became jealous of Peter for spending time with Tony. Flash’s behavior completely changed with his growing popularity at Midtown High. With regards to friendships, he ended up choosing quantity over quality. This resulted in him attempting to gain the schoolkids’ favors by bullying. Since Peter used to be his friend, he became an easy target. Peter might miss what they once had, but at least he managed to trade his friendship with Flash for an even better one. Ned Leeds enabled his geeky side and ever since the boy had helped Peter up after Flash had pushed him to the floor the first time, they became inseparable. Obviously, the school wanted to go to Avengers Tower to get them interested in pursuing careers in science and technology. Something both Ned and Peter already kind of were. As excited as everyone was to get a look inside the labs and workshops, there is a significantly higher interest in getting a glimpse of not just Tony Stark, but of any of the Avengers, now that Stark Tower has been rebirthed as Avengers Tower. However, there was another occupation that Peter also took interest in now that he had gained his Spider powers a little over half a year ago. Becoming an Avenger was his number one career dream. He’d no longer just help the little guy. He’d be able to help everyone. There’s nothing Peter wanted more than to run into Tony again like he did when they had the class trip in middle school. Maybe Peter could train under him? Learn from him? Tony would be the Master to his Padawan. He’d be an Avenger. All he needed right now was the courage to actually ask. Well, he’d have to find Tony- or any Avenger for that matter- first. … The second they set foot in the building, Peter grabs his bag and takes out the Science Rules cap that he wore as a child. He didn’t expect Tony to actually recognize him after all these years, but at least he has one point of reference he could fall back on. Security reminds him he’s not allowed to wear the cap inside, so he opts to attach it to his belt and have it hang from his hip. Flash makes an off-handed comment about it, but Peter ignores him. It still baffles Peter that Flash seems to feel no remorse for joking about the cap that he knows was Peter’s father’s. After the first two hours of the excursion Peter already starts losing hope. Most locations they go to are quite secluded and it’s not easy to get away from the security’s watchful eyes. They had to put their bags in a locker room earlier, so save for his web shooters, Peter couldn’t show Tony the suit he'd so proudly put together. If he would ever run into him. After hour three they’re finally allowed to go into the labs and actually do some tests themselves. Most of the materials they work with are quite harmless. The only thing that really could hurt them if they’re not careful is the bottle of slightly diluted bleach on their desks. At least all of the students want to make a good impression on Stark’s scientists, so they’re all on their best behavior. Everyone, but… “Whoopsies,” Flash deadpans next to Peter. The teen looks up surprised from his own workbench to see Flash, who is stationed next to him, purposefully elbow the bleach bottle. The opening up top is small, but some of the liquid still splashes out of it. Onto Peter’s hip. Peter stares at the cap that now has bleach splattered all over it and then back up at Flash who grins. “Guess it really is a one of a kind now.” Peter runs away from his spot to one of the security guards. He doesn’t trust himself to not start crying if he actually takes time to ask his question properly so all he can blurt out is: “Toilet?” The guard sees Peter’s panic and lets him out. “Uh, there’s one on the left right there.” “Th-thank-“ Water. Peter needs water right now. Needs to wash it out, even though the fabric is already lightening. Who knows, maybe he could wash it out with the tears that are forming in the corners of his eyes. He rushes and throws open the door, immediately starting the stream of water and shoving the cap under it. The further he can dilute the bleach, the better. His left hand clutches the little tag on the inside in an attempt to keep anything from spilling into it and messing up his father’s handwriting. A soft sob escapes his throat, but he’s startled to hear a urinal flush in one of the stalls. He sniffs and attempts to wipe away the tears with the elbow of his shirt. When he hears the door unlock he looks down in a half-assed attempt to focus on cleaning the cap. He bites on the inside of his cheek and clenches his jaw, feeling the presence of the man from the stall emerge. The man casually washes his hands next to Peter but his movement suddenly halts. “Peter?” Peter could recognize that voice in his sleep. His heart beats loudly in his chest and the world is spinning. He blinks before whipping his head up to lock eyes with Tony Stark. “Jeez, you’ve grown.” The man’s brows curl together at the look on Peter’s face. The boy breaks eye contact and looks forward into the mirror, only to realize his cheeks are red and his eyes are puffed. “What the hell happened?” There’s a moment of silence. Peter barely realizes that Tony recognized him. Knows him, still. Is concerned for him. Peter’s mouth opens and closes and he takes a breath before looking back down at the cap and continuing to attempt to wash out the bleach. “Bleach,” he mumbles. “Didn’t take you to be that clumsy.” “Wasn’t wearing it.” “Still.” Peter scrubs more aggressively now, tears threatening to spill again. He’s making a fool of himself and he wishes he could just disappear. “Hey,” Tony says quietly. “Hey-“ Peter’s eyes widen at a hand suddenly holding onto his lower arm. Peter’s frozen where he stands and can only watch defeated as Tony turns off the tap. Only now he feels how wet his cheeks are. When did he start crying again? “Damage’s already been done.” Tony takes the cap out of Peter’s hands and studies the lightened splotches on the front. “Don’t you think this looks cool?” He tries. “Don’t want it to look cool.” “I’m sure your dad won’t-“ Tony stops himself, knowing exactly why he shouldn’t finish his thought. He sucks at his teeth and looks away. “Sorry, how’s your mom?” Peter nearly laughs at Tony’s inability to read the room. “She was with him.” Mortified at his previous decision on how to continue the conversation, Tony takes a step back. Peter looks down at his wet hands and adds: “It’s okay.” “To be honest, no, not really. Are you taken care of?” “My aunt.” “Didn’t Richard have a brother?” Peter looks up again and grimaces, feeling like every word falling from Tony’s lips is a stab to the heart. “Fuck, I’m-“ “It’s okay.” “It’s not.” Tony shakes his head and moves closer to Peter again. “I’m sorry, kid.” The man scoffs. “I used to be better at this… Well, no actually, that’s a lie.” Peter swallows as the two just stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither of them sure where to go with this. The boy then clears his throat and moves to stand up straight. “I am, eh… Here on another excursion.” “High school this time, I presume? Or are you in uni already?” “Parents wanted me to have a somewhat normal childhood, so they didn’t want me to get ahead that far. My aunt honors that wish.” Peter now properly washes his hands, since his hands had started to tingle from the bleach. “Aren’t you bored out of your mind, then?” Peter raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Maybe.” Tony’s wrist beeps and he takes a glance at his watch, sighing exasperated. He heads for the door and hands Peter the cap back on his trek. “Pete, I’m sorry, I gotta go. Give reception a call-“ No, is all Peter can think. Before he can form a rational though, he reaches out and webs Tony’s hand to the door handle, locking both of them in the bathroom. Tony stares down at the substance keeping the door shut and his hand attached to it. “What the-“ “I want to join the Avengers.” Peter is ready to hit himself in the head. That question was way too direct and now he’s really done it. Tony laughs surprised. “Oh, bother. You’re Spider-Guy?” Peter’s eyes widen. The man hadn’t said no. “Spider-Man.” “Right.” “Wait, aren’t you fourteen?” Tony asks confused. Peter’s aware his physique as Spider-Man is wildly different from what he appears as in daily life. “And a half.” “Kid, if that really is you, you need to stop before you get in over your head, okay?” Tony wants to step towards him, but is held back by the webbing. “You think I’m lying?” Peter crosses his arms offended. “Well, no, but-“ The billionaire shakes his head at the substance and scoffs. “You’re putting yourself in danger when you shouldn’t.” “I’m not stopping.” “What- are you an adrenaline junkie? Please, don’t tell me you’re doing this because of me. It’s not worth it, I promise you.” Peter stares at the wet cap in his hands. “Not everything’s about you.” He wishes he swallowed those words, but Tony seemed to be self- aware enough, taking the comment somewhat gracefully. “Then what is it about?” “Half a year ago I got these… Powers.” Peter raises his hands up to look at them and sighs. “I’m stronger and faster… And I- well…” He trails off and pulls his face together in a frown. “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen? They happen because of you.” “As inspiring as that is, you shouldn’t be doing any of the stuff I’ve seen in those videos.” Tony’s pulls at his wrist and swears silently. “Jesus, what is this made of?” “You… Watched the videos?” “Yeah, kid, I did, now please get this stuff off me?” “Right! It usually dissolves after two to three hours, but I have a dissolver in…” Peter falls silent as he realizes that what he needs is locked away by security. “Kid,” Tony threatens. “My backpack.”

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origami10 · 3 years

Text

Ajin ch 86 thoughts

Okay, it’s been a little bit! Thoughts and spoilers under the cut! (Warning, this is very long)

Writing this in a word doc because a) I don’t want to risk going on tumblr and b) I don’t want to risk the post getting deleted in the middle [note from the end: this ended up being four pages long in a Word document, so I’m sorry]

Ahhhh, last time buying the digital magazine >< Until... if... Sakurai starts publishing something new...

It seems kind of unfair not to have Ajin be the cover feature if it’s ending DX I guess they’re just starting with a new series, though. Is that how that works? (It has a main character with white hair so I might be interested...) It’s at the beginning of the mag.

Okay, yeah, pages 111-175. Aggghhhh I’ve always put off reading the end of series, but I think this is the first one I’ve been up to date with when it actually ended. Promised Neverland was close.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

ooh completely new characters...?????? whoops overshot the starting page by a few ughhhh it’s definitely the last one... I mean we knew that, but still..... OMG NO IT’S IZUMI AND TANAKA ISN’T IT?? jeez woah I can’t wait to hear other readers’ reactions [edit: yes this was about clover, and she recorded her reaction, which was beautiful ;u;] also omg they’re at least appearing together

omg Sakurai’s author’s note: “It’s very cold, isn’t it. Everyone, I hope you don’t catch a cold.” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT’S ENDING?

okay, so at least some time skip Tanaka: New identity, who dis Ooh, Izumi called Tanaka “anta” – the rude/familiar version of ‘you’, rather than the polite one. Honestly I don’t remember but it’s probably what she called him previously. And then turns around and called him anata the next page X’D Okay, I’m glad that not being consistent is okay in Japanese, I always worry/wonder about that ooooh so Tanaka doesn’t have a new identity YET. I wonder how long it’s been?? omg Tosaki prepared it?? Was he thinking that far ahead? Or is he not dead.... ??? okay so he made it ahead of time oh, and Izumi was the one who asked him for it??? Oh wow, Izumi has yet another change of identity. I wonder if she’s back to (omggg I forget D: her original name... Tainaka [hah]) Also another great shot emphasizing their height difference X’) lmaoooo I always love when there manages to be some humor oh, they’re only about three years apart! I wonder if that helps pin down the timeline at all??

Aw, Izumi still respects Tosaki lmao “I’m going home.” “You really have places to be?” Oh I guess that wasn’t quite it- she really was wondering if he was had a living location... so he has been kinda on the run >< [Sakurai. Sakurai, happy ending. There is, right? Right?]

Oh dude I really didn’t think we’d get any resolution on that ship and like, idk if this counts as resolution but it sure looks like it does right now okay I’m really sorry but part of me is like ///we’re using so many of the remaining pages on this/// although oh I guess it’s only been 10 pages... it feels like so many since the chapters have been so short lately...

heyyyyy I mean we kinda knew the U.S. ajin would be back or else what was the point of introducing them Ogura not being dead at the end of the series is extremely impressive (also hopefully Kai :prayer hands: as in I think he survived) so Ogura didn’t tell them he was coming back huh ... with the crew??? :eyes emoji: lmao AND they thought he was dead, I’m cackling oh okay so they had heard he wasn’t dead the close up of Jim’s face reminds of Kai somehow I guess this manga isn’t so long (and the U.S. ajin left enough of an impression) that at least we’re not like WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE “I’ll kill you!!” “Go ahead!!” HA Winnn I think the people in this series need to get their idea of ‘fun’ checked I don’t really understand what he says in the bubble after that... I’ll have to check the English did he like, metaphorically die because he’s out of FKs? I’m not up on my cigarette brands enough to know if that’s an FK or not... I think it’s what the brand turned into...? oh no what’s this omg is it gonna be Kai? Are they all gonna be in there? Kotobuki?? also this is already super sad that not everyone got out of jail free... unless they did and I’ll see... but also it’s realistic so all for the best I guess? i have no idea OH HA I thought it was the juvenile detention center but it’s Takahashi ! o_o not entirely sure I understand what Takahashi says to the guard either at least everyone’s having... fun??? KAI KAI KAI gahhhh this looks exactly like how ch 69 started and agh they’re both in juvie but ahhhhh they’re together?? I’m already scared to read and actually find out –o- oh wait they have dates to get out! and they said plural ‘we’ “That was fast” I feel like that panel represents what this chapter means to me somehow lmao they just want them to be not their problem anymore... that really wraps it up nicely, hilariously, and realistically I’m glad I’m not translating this because there are really a couple lines where I don’t completely understand them “something happened that day” um, yeah WOW I did NOT think we were going to get an answer to whether Kai was an ajin now or not, but I feel like that definitively answers that question????? also that’s terribly funny HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW KEI REVIVED HIM?? -punches a wall- Kai’s whole personality is ‘I don’t really remember that happening’ >_____________________________> Kei... gave Kai a reason to live... because he almost died...? I still kinda have faith in this wrapping up well but GOD Kai is not a character to invest all your emotion into, laughs cryingly Kotobuki: “You literally never make any sense, man.” oh no “ano natsu” GAH

I just realized that this almost certainly means Kai and Kou never met. There isn’t enough keysmashing in the world to express my desire to throw my laptop at a wall right now

In no way shape or form did I ever expect to get closure on Akiyama, even on him getting out of the barrel

Manabe definitely stole whatever it is he’s holding but it was probably some kind of personal effects...? [my powers of prediction suck most of the time] he really looks beat up now ;u; Izukyū-Shimoda... Win, that’s not where you traveled, is it? Maybe I saw it on the Sunday NHK travel program... but it’s also the end of the train line and has ferries going out into the ocean islands. Is he getting away, or going home.......? or to Hirasawa or something...?

well that was an extremely abrupt shift are they really shooting Satou up into space they’re not using him as a test subject are they that sounds like an even more awful idea than I ever could have come up with okay... oh jeez can we please please not have Satou be Captain America you just KNOW he’s going to make trouble again, ,, , , ,!!

oh jeez Eriko! I didn’t expect to see her but it’s nice! it’s really sinking in that that’s all the closure we’re going to get on Kai isn’t it Eriko tsundere as if that needed confirmed okay cool, so she’s out of the hospital (for now)

It does seem appropriate? Likely? That Kei didn’t go home. WE BETTER SEE KOU THIS CHAPTER oh, it’s fall (or winter? Izumi said it was cold...) oh phew

Sakurai said RIP KeiKai shippers I guess.... but they still influenced each other so that’s still shippable even though they’re not together? sigh not everything is so straightforward and I guess it’s good it reflects that

Kei looks happy enough was Kei working a blue collar job with Kou or something? That’s 100% unexpected Kou adorable omg what is his new name gonna be Also ;-; so they’ve giving ajin rights but everyone’s still staying undercover...? or Kou isn’t I guess, that’s sweet oh wow we admit Tosaki’s great I guess last chapter’s statement that they found his remains must have settled whether he’s alive or not ‘iroiro atta na’ YOU THINK also pretty sure that’s Kai’s line from the drama CD what’s with that Kei face??? OMG PERF also that is scarily close to what I wrote in a fic, but also pretty much to be expected crap I guess at least Tanaka and Izumi are with each other? KAI’S MOON JACKET WITH THE SMILIE we really messed up characterizing Kai as the sun haha he’s out he’s out he’s out is he going to meet someone literally zooming out on everyone (like at the end of last chapter too) is kinda messing with me Like they’re still around and doing stuff but we aren’t (don’t get to) watch them anymore Kou saying ‘let’s all meet again’... my heart is warm ;0; LMAO

we can at least rest assured that everyone stayed in character

I can’t I can’t I can’t [note, this was when I thought Kei saying ‘nah’ was the last page]

O MM FRICKING GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

omg Sakurai you’ve done it again bwahahaah a coworker hit him and is like ‘oh cool fine nevermind’ this is WAY more hilarious than I was expecting for this chapter How do I always forget that Ajin has so much comedy not remembering what page number the chapter ends on is nice

Tankobon releases May 7th in Japan Elizaaaaaa Kei’s got a Shion coat

alright uh well I guess that’s good, in a way, we still get to imagine whatever we want

Finishing it hasn’t sunk in yet, I’ve have to get back to you on that one.

#Ajin #Ajin spoilers #ch 86 #ahhhhh

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shnuggletea · 3 years

Photo

This is my attempt at EdWin pairing from Full Metal Alchemist. It’s for @kalsies bday and since you like EdWin and FMA I thought I’d switch it up for you. I also realize that you don’t really know me but I’m a fan of your work! And I hate it when I miss a bday; we all deserve some love especially on our bday!

I’m going to post this on Tumblr only for now to see how it goes. Idk if this is any good and I kinda rushed it but here goes.

I do not own Full Metal or the art used in the cover above (came from here) I just own the story!

Happy Birthday Kalsies the Derp!

I also made a playlist but it is also a WIP! You can listen to it here!

The Coffee House

It wasn’t like I was looking for the place or planned to ever go inside. I blame the damn wind. It blew my hair free of its tie and damn if it didn’t want to quit! So I had to duck in somewhere and I’m not a coffee drinker. As soon as I stepped in out of the wind I was nearly pushed back out by the smell of the place.

I never had a problem with the smell of coffee really. It has a decent scent to it. But I knew that the scent was misleading and that the taste was far from the enticing smell. So much so I had distrust in coffee and everything to do with it.

Especially the baristas that slung it at you with a false smile.

And this place had all the bells and whistles of your usual coffee house. Tables and ‘comfortable’ chairs. Dark lighting and soft music. Everything you needed to get people to stay and drink more. The only difference was, this place had huge pieces of twisted metal sticking out of the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Probably considered ‘art’ but I wasn’t buying it. I did find the piece that was half an engine from an old tank stuck to the wall interesting.

There weren’t a lot of people inside so maybe this place made even shitter coffee? It made getting my hair back in its place a hell of a lot easier, slipping off to the bathroom for a mirror. That turned out to be an added blessing because I hadn’t noticed the smudge of oil on my face. Undoubtedly from work cause not even Al would tell me it was there. They would laugh while I walked the streets unknowing.

A few more bodies were in the place once I returned. It made the place loud and I hated loud. “You have to buy something!”

Turning to the shrill voice, I expected a doughty old maid. Instead, it was just a girl. She was pretty... I guess. If you’re into tall blondes. With her hair pulled back to the top of her head and the dirty apron covering her front, it was hard to say anything else about her other than tall and blonde. And irritated since she was still glaring at me for some reason.

“Huh?”

“Are you dumb? You used our bathroom; I saw you. Only customers are allowed to use it so either buy something or I’m going to punch you in the dick.”

I laughed because it was ridiculous. But that only pissed the blonde off more as she started to jump over the counter to get to me. “Okay, okay I’ll buy something. Jeez!”

She stepped back and stopped all attempts to get at me… with violence. Now she had arms crossed over her chest (couldn’t tell how big her chest was still) and went back to glaring at me. “Well? Order something!”

“Look, I just needed to fix my hair…”

She snorted. “Your hair? Seriously?!”

I growled back at the woman. “Yeah, my hair! Like you have room to talk!”

“I do since my hair is actually cute.”

“Who the hell do you…”

“Are you gonna order today or next week?”

I took a glance around. It wasn’t like I was holding up the line or anything. “I don’t even like coffee…”

“You’ll like my coffee,” the strange and annoying girl said, stepping back to a large and intimidating machine, “my coffee is the best in town.”

“Hasn’t this place only been open a week?”

“Two!” She shouted with pride and pulled down a lever. It was like an old fashioned slot machine that was ready to explode. Cause as soon as she pulled down the lever the whole thing shook and twanged like it would get up and breakdance. “It’ll just be a minute.”

The wall behind me became mine as I leaned against it. The girl didn’t talk her eyes off me so I didn’t take mine off her. She was… strange. Pushy and arrogant and rude. Her eyes eventually got to be too much and I didn’t like how she was studying my body. Not that it would help but I crossed my arms over my chest. Which most people took the hint when someone did that but not this girl.

“Who did your Automail?” The packs of coffee beans that held my attention for a second could have been set on fire and it wouldn’t have changed the glare I was giving this nosy woman. “Doesn’t look like they did a very good job. I can see it hitching at your shoulder.”

The hell she could. I had on an undershirt, long sleeve henley, and my red leather jacket. Add in my gloves and there was no way. “I haven’t been in for a tune-up in a while, that’s all.”

She couldn’t see shit, she was guessing or something. Messing with me. “How did you lose your arm?”

“That’s none of your business,” I shouted as fiercely as possible. She nodded as if I told her I didn’t want sugar though. “You know, I didn’t even use your damn bathroom. I shouldn’t have to…”

“So what are you? Street cleaner?” The woman was unphased by my angry stupor. “You have some dirt here.” She pointed to her left temple and I wiped at mine. “You do look familiar, have we met before?”

She was leaning on the counter between us, scrutinizing and sizing me up even more. The only part of her skin that was visible (other than her face) was her hands and they were covered in little bandaids. I was marveling at how tiny her fingers were and a snarky response slipped past my filter. “Maybe I cleaned your street before.”

Then she giggled. I swear there was a twinkle in her eyes, I didn’t imagine that. And adorable, mischievous, god damn annoying twinkle that made me want to burn the place down. Even more so when she stood back up and twisted a small golden tendril around one of her tiny fingers. “How do you like your coffee?”

“What is it with you and personal questions?!” She held up a small cup, innocently and I felt flames lick the skin on my cheeks. But she said nothing about it, staring at me with doe eyes that would have reminded me of a lake on a calm day but they were far from calm. More like the ocean before a hurricane. “I don’t like coffee at all so…”

“Right, cream and sugar then.” She moved away from me and I moved towards the counter. “How tall are you?”

She was crouched inside a small fridge pulling out bottles but looking up at me. Her golden hair almost touched the floor and yet she still had all her attention on me. “What’s it to you, Blondie?”

I struck a nerve with that one, finally. She slammed the fridge shut and handed the coffee to me so hard I nearly got burned. “It’s Winry.”

If she hated the name then why did she have blonde hair? It was nothing to change the color of your hair these days. She flicked a few loose locks behind her ear and showed that it was full of metal. Studs and hoops went from her lobe up to the corner of her cartilage. A lot of girls had their ears pierced but not quite like that and it made me curious if the other looked the same.

“Are you always this nosy, Winry?”

If she was offended, she didn’t show it; shrugging and looking at her bandaged hands. “Just thought I’d ask.”

“Oh, you asked. About everything that has nothing to do with you.”

Saying nothing else, she held out her hand and after a minute, I pressed a few credits into her outstretched palm. She took them and then plastered on a smile. “Come back soon and tell all your friends!”

“Tell them what? Come here and get pushed into buying?”

Her smile faded, but it was fake to begin with. “Well, just tell them the bathroom is for customers only then!”

The woman (Winry) was done with me so I left. The wind blew my hair out of my tie again but I was already at the shop by then.

“That was the longest lunch break you’ve ever taken, Edward!” Louis yelled from somewhere in the back and although out of sight, I still glared in his direction.

“Shuddaup you Bald bastard and mind your business!”

The bald man with the fabulous mustache just chuckled and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in irritation. Slamming the door behind me I walked over to where Al sat, looking up at me as I approached. “You got coffee?”

I had actually forgotten, still holding the cup in my hand. “Sorta.”

He took it from me and I let him. “Shouldn’t drink coffee. It’ll stunt your growth.”

I ignored his smirk. “I freaking hate coffee and you know it. I only got that cause I was forced.”

Al chuckled while I still simmered from the barista Winry. “When has anyone ever forced you into anything, brother?”

I smirked back at him but not because of his teasing. He tried to duck but it was too late, rubbing my knuckles into the top of his skull hard and making his dark blond hair fly all around. “Get anything done while I was gone?”

He shoved me away as hard as he could with his free hand. “We got a lot done for once!! Must be you holding us back!!”

Chuckling, I let him off easy and took off my jacket to hang up. Looking back at Al I caught him sipping on the coffee. “Hey! What about stunting your growth?!”

Al wore a sad smile but at least it no longer reached his eyes. “That’s not really a problem for me, is it?”

I had nothing to say to that, watching as he rolled himself away in his ancient wheelchair. I couldn’t even afford to get him a nice one; like the kind that roll where you want them to with a single thought. But that wasn’t what was important. What was important was getting the funds for Al’s body.

It was why I worked at this shop, rolling up my sleeves to get back to work. There were a few projects still waiting for my touches so I had to hurry up. I needed to get to work and get it done for tonight. I’d already wasted too much time dealing with crazy coffee house girls.

oOo

It was a warm night but I still wore my red leather jacket. It protected my skin and it had my symbol on the back. I never intended for that symbol to mean anything, I just thought it looked cool. But now I almost have to wear it so people know who I am and what to expect.

That symbol was why (when I rolled up to the line) others either stepped out or changed their bets.

My bike wasn’t anything special but I knew how to take care of it. Unlike the others here who spent thousands of credits to fix up or buy new bikes; mine was old and cheap. Before I made a name for myself, it was what gave me the advantage. Everyone knew how I raced now so there was little point. The only reason I came here night after night was for the money cause the thrill had left long ago.

I had my hair tucked up inside my helmet so it didn’t get knocked like crazy; not to hide even as my helmet hid my face. Anyone that saw me on the street would know it was me thanks to my jacket. But not everyone here wanted to be known. It wouldn’t be a surprise if an Under was mixed in the crowd. My jacket made me known but also gave me deniability on the streets in daylight.

It was this reason that I wasn’t surprised when a stranger pulled up next to me on their bike and had a blacked-out helmet. Mine was blacked out as well but that was more out of preference than fear. It had been years since a new person showed up to race here; so I busied myself sizing them up. Their bike was nice, a newer model than mine. And an actual brand; a Tomoaki. It was a decent ride but I wasn’t worried.

The new guy refused to look anywhere but the track ahead. They were clearly a Newb, it was showing in their laser focus as well as the small shake in their arms as they waited for the ‘gun’. It had me chuckling in my helmet and fogging up the glass.

It was me, Newb, and three other guys ready and waiting for this race. Two of them were from the Homunculus gang so they would be trouble. As they were every time they lost. The other guy I knew pretty well; Roy on his trademark Mustang bike was hard to miss. That meant Risa was somewhere in the crowd. He was a good guy and a decent racer. But I was better.

This was going to be another easy win; easy money.

Olivier stood before us, taking her place with the flag to start. She was how I learned about this place; her brother complaining about the illegal activities his dear sister was involved in. Not sure what he’s so worried about; there are far worse things to be into as far as illegal activities go. Far more lucrative too but I was pushing it with Al doing this much.

The tall and buxom blonde lifted her arms for our full attention. A few idiots in the crowd with death wishes whistled at Olivier. She was a beautiful woman but if you ever told her that she would break your face. Olivier started the races for one reason only; to be a distraction and throw a few of us off guard. I looked at the Newb next to me to see if it worked. The rest of us were used to it by now. Newb didn’t look shaken in the slightest but he still shook.

Olivier dropped the flag and it was time to stop dicking around, hitting my accelerator and jumping ahead of the rest instantly. There was no one ahead of me; the track was mine. Our location switched every week and you had to be in the know to find it. You also had to use the GPS to stay on the assigned track. Mine was beeping that there was a hard left turn ahead. This was one of the reasons I was unbeatable. Without skin on it to worry about losing to the pavement, I was able to dip lower on left turns and take them faster than the rest.

It was right turns that slowed me down and this track had two right at the end. Even so, I still have the lead and little to fear.

This was it. Alone on the track, going as fast as I pleased. The only thing missing was the wind in my hair and on my skin. This was where I felt peace; felt free. Winning was no longer a thrill for me. I only enjoyed this moment now; being my own boss and in control of everything. My speed, my movements, and my life. It was easy to forget the troubles I faced daily while I raced away into the night.

Nearing the end of the track, I leaned into the first right turn. Of course, I slowed and dipped a little less than before. This was my real leg, the only one I had left. It was expected. What wasn’t expected was the other racer that passed me in the middle of it.

It was the new guy, flying by dangerously on the turn. I had been cocky and stupid, getting lost in the freedom instead of actually racing. Now they had the lead. If it was a straight away or another left turn, I could have taken the lead back. But it was neither of those and even as I dipped lower and went faster than I was comfortable with, they still had the lead.

The Newb was going to win.

There was a strange pressure that I felt in my chest. I hadn’t felt it in a while. It was… excitement.

I pushed my machine to its limits to gain a few seconds on the Newb’s lead but the race was pretty much over. We crossed the line with a two-second difference and the crowd was a mix of shock, awe, and anger. Just like the first time I raced and won.

A lot of people just lost a lot of money.

The Newb stopped and I pulled up right next to them. “Follow me, NOW!”

They shook their head at me. “Why? I want my money.”

Their voice was garbled by an electronic voice changer. It wasn’t weird; a bit uncommon but again there was always the possibility of Unders in the crowd and with this person a Newb it was a good thing they were protecting their identity.

“I’ll get your money tomorrow and give it to you later. You need to get out of here!”

Newb glanced behind us at the crowd and I looked as well; even knowing what I would see. The crowd was restless, shouting, and pushing. There were more races to be had (the night was still young) but it was clearly over as the others were already fighting.

“Great. How am I supposed to come back with that?” The Newb asked.

“It’ll be fine, they’ll get over it. But those guys,” I said, pointing to the two Homunculus members that had raced and lost to the Newb, “they will come and tear you apart if we don’t get out of here now.”

There were no more questions after that and as much as I wanted to help the guy out, I couldn’t force him. So I was glad the guy shut up and followed closely. The Homunculus followed for a while but it wasn’t too hard to lose them. We came to a stop miles from the track. A few quiet shops sat to one side while an empty park on the other. Without a word or sign, we both made for the park and killed our engines; turning our bikes into chairs with our kickstands out.

“That was too easy.” The Newb spat. “I thought they wanted to tear me to pieces?”

Even with the voice changer, I could tell they were mocking me. Resting on my bike, I pulled my helmet off so I could get more air. “Yeah, well they probably figured that they’ll get you next week. You should consider taking a little break for a while.”

They huffed, the automated voice struggling with the sound and came out like singing. “You just don’t want to lose again.”

My Automail was stiff from the ride. As were both my shoulders. So I stretched my hands high above my head and then rolled my shoulders around. “Nah, you got lucky this time. It won’t happen again.”

Newb was silent and I enjoyed the quiet while it lasted. “Why did you help me?”

His question was soft but in the silence, it was easy to hear. “Why not? I used to be right where you are now. New and talented. The Homunculi are a bunch of jealous assholes who don’t care about rules as long as they win.”

“What about you? Is winning that important to you?”

I looked at the dark window of their helmet, trying to see through it even with it impossible. My mouth still pulled into a smirk. “Of course it’s important. You get more money if you win. But only if I do it by my own merits.”

“So it’s the money you really care about?”

I shrugged, looking at my gloves and fixing the loose hold they had on my hands. “I need it. Everyone there does. It’s how this all works, right?”

“I’m in it for the racing, not the money.”

I grimaced hard back at the guy, thankful I took my helmet off so they could see the fire in my eyes. “Then you should be going pro, not slumming it with the rest of us.”

This Newb really needed to learn when to shut the fuck up; still talking away but I was no longer listening. I cut him off with the roar of my engine. He was a stranger; he had no clue who I was or the life I’d lived. My past was as much a mystery as his was to me. Only I no longer cared to know his past or present. His judgment could eat shit; I took off and left the fucker there.

He could find his own way home.

#Full Metal Alchemist #full metal alchemist fandom #edwin #coffee house trope #with a twist #same setting #so still steampunk #still working on it

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nurseofren · 4 years

Text

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #ao3 #st kyp

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sunnomnoms · 4 years

Note

Hi!! I wanted to request an scenario where the reader is a teacher in UA and is also good friends since their school years with Aizawa and Hizashi. She finds her old notes with some doodles and brings it to work so she could revive some memories with her friends. What she didn't remember is that she used to write Aizawa's name in her notebook with hearts around it... Kind of thing.... Thank you in advance ❤️❤️💖💖

AYYYY AN AIZAWA REQUEST yesyesyesyes this is so cute I love this. I hope I wrote him to your liking!! Also I am super sorry for the long wait! I had an unannounced hiatus and everytime I went to write this scenario Tumblr deleted it!!! >:,( but here it is!!

“It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these things!!” You squealed happily as you flipped through the pages.

“We were probably, what, second years back when I used this? God, that felt like centuries ago!”

You had found an old note book of yours that you used to use all the time in high school. You were a teacher now at UA, alongside your high school best friends, Shota and Hizashi. The three of you were often around each other along with other friends you had had. Though it felt so long ago, it’s as if you could remember that chapter of your life clearly...

“When do you plan to tell him?” Hizashi whispered teasingly at you as he peaked over your shoulder. You squeaked, pulling your notebook to your chest as a deep blush crept onto your face.

“C-can you not?? jeez Hizashi!” you whisper-yelled at him, to which he only laughed. The racket you two had caused caught a certain someone’s attention.

“What are you two doing?” Shota asked, turning around in his seat to face the two of you. He placed an elbow on your desk, propping his head on it. The teacher wasn’t in class yet so some students chatted away, it wasn’t a crime for you three to do the same.

Shota shifted his gaze to you, your slightly pink cheeks catching his attention.

“H-he’s flirting again, you know how he is.” You lied through your teeth, holding your notebook to your face to try and cover your blush. Hizashi laughed at the remark, adding a “yeah, okay.” Shota sighed, humming a little as to say “ah, of course” before he let out a small yawn.

“I’m gonna nap. Wake me up when sensei gets here.” He said groggily as he rested his head in his arms on your desk. Before you could even respond, he was fast asleep on your desk. pulling down your notebook a tad, you revealed the heart filled smile you had towards his sleeping form. Hizashi has made some teasing comments here and there, but you hadn’t paid much mind.

It was true, you had a crush on Shota back then. To say your attraction towards him disappeared would be a lie, but the two of you were professionals now, and there was no room for fluffy feelings like that. While occasionally you wished for such a romance between the two of you, you always shook the thoughts away. Shota was your coworker, as well as just your friend.

With that said, you made sure to try and avoid bringing one of your notebooks that had love poems and confessions in them. You had a bad habit of day dreaming back then, and when you’re a teenager, you can imagine what kind of things you day dreamed about.

“You used to draw that little thing on all of my papers, I couldn’t escape it.” Shota said, pointing to a familiar, simple cat doodle you often did. You laughed, flipping a few pages to see the same doodle reappear several times. He chuckled softly as well.

“Oh! And here’s that freaking S!” Hizashi said, pointing to the infamous ‘S’ symbol probably all teenagers drew at one part of their life. “That thing haunts me!! I have no idea what it is or where it came from!!” Hizashi exclaimed over dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “I’m pretty sure everyone drew it.” You added.

The three of you sort of huddled around, reminiscing on old notes and doodles you all once did. Most of them were done by you, but some pages were filled with doodles done by all of you. Hizashi’s doodles usually contained random things, even memes at the time. Shota seemed to write small notes that usually were filled with sarcasm, and would occasionally draw little cats. Your doodles were always all over the place, from things like skulls to bunnies, or sharks and flowers. If hero work wouldn’t have worked so well in your favor, perhaps you would have been an artist. Who knows?

The time came when your off period was up, and the three of you had to go back to class and teach. You had left your notebook in the lobby, expecting to take it home with you when you left.

Unfortunately, you were a bit of a clutz that day, and had started to run late for your train.

“Ah, I’ll talk to you all tomorrow!!! My train is about to be here in ten minutes and it’s usually a fifteen minute walk, I gotta run!!” You called in a panic as you dashed out of the school.

“W-Wait, I could-” Shota called out to you, before stopping himself.

“... just give you a ride...” he sighed as he watched you scurry off without a second thought. He had to stay back for a half an hour anyway to file some paperwork, he would have had no issue bringing you home. But you were quick on your feet, and already too far and too determined to catch that train.

Aizawa laughed softly. You were always like this it seemed. You weren’t an idiot, no, but... an airhead? Sure. You often were oblivious to things going on it seemed. Not to mention how forgetful you could be.

On the topic of your forgetfulness, it seems you had yet again left something at work.

Shota looked over at you desk, noticing the notebook you seemed to have left behind while dashing off for your train. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Shota was basically expecting it at this point. He let out another sigh, picking up the notebook. Upon noticing it was your old notebook from highschool, he opened it up to relive a few memories before getting back to filing papers. It was the same nostalgic things he had seen earlier, some things he didn’t remember, some things he remembered all too well. A small smile played on his lips as he flipped through the pages.

“What are you doing?” Shota inquired as he watched you scribble in your notebook.

“Nothing!! You can’t see yet!!” You giggled as you continued to intently sketch away.

Shota wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but find you cute like this. Maybe it was the way your hair fell in your face as you worked, maybe it was the little smile on your face, he couldn’t put his finger one what exactly caught his eye about the familiar sight. And yet, any time you did your little sketches, he’d sneak glances. Not at your notebook, but at you. You were just so cute when you were determined.

“Okay, I’m done. Lookie!” You said, placing your book on the desk for him to see. Shota blinked a few times before he realized what he was looking at. “It’s you!” You giggled.

It was a sketch of a cat, a black one, with the binding cloth around its neck. Shota felt a small smile pull on his lips as he looked at it.

“It’s so cute..” Shota muttered, before realizing what he had said. He looked up to you, expecting some sort of weirded out expression, but instead was met by your flustered expression.

“It’s just a doodle, it isn’t that cute! Haha!” You said sheepishly, waving him off.

As far back as Shota could remember knowing you, he had always recognized you as a strong girl. And yet, when you weren’t busy kicking ass, you found the time to be cute and endearing. Perhaps it was the duality you had that attracted him so much. But with how things have been recently with hero work and teaching, he doubted now was the right time to act on any sort of feelings. Shota couldn’t risk ruining the healthy work relationship the two of you had.

Shota flipped through a few more pages, and was ready to leave his reminiscing session there, until his eyes caught his name in one of the pages he passed. Blinking a few times, he flipped back a few pages, and scanned the page for his name. It didn’t take much scanning at all though. He felt his heart stop.

Not only did he find his name surrounded by hearts, but he found entire heartfelt notes. Little notes about the little details you noticed and loved, notes about how much you loved his long hair, notes about how you adored his love for cats, notes about how you admired his hard work on mastering the binding cloth...

Shota hadn’t felt his heart swell like that in years. It hurt almost, he even almost let out an audible swoon. Sitting down at his desk, he tried to process what he was reading. How many other Shota’s did they go to school with at the time? Was it really him she was talking about?

It had to be. Who else could it be?

Shota closed the notebook and sat back in his chair. His heart pounded against his chest, his head swarmed him with thoughts on what to do now that he had this information. He wanted to just kiss you, call you stupid for not saying anything for long, telling you he felt the same and still does. But that begs the question, do you still feel that way? The idea of your feelings fading away all these years later made his breath hitch. It was totally possible. You were teenagers, what if it was just a little phase? Something you were in and out of within a week?

Shota sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, settling for an idea he had. He’d come over to your apartment to drop it off, and he’d ask you about it then, right? Surely that was a fool-proof plan, right?

“What am I, 16?” Shota mocked himself out loud. He was acting like a nervous teenager again. Why?

Packing up and calling it a day (despite not filing a single paper...), Shota set off towards his car.

He held a hope in his heart that things haven’t changed too much from when you two were teenagers.

#shouta aizawa x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha requests #bnha requests #mha imagines #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #ryu bnha tag

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captainsolocide · 4 years

Text

Okay we’re trying this again because last time I tried to write this out Tumblr crashed.

I’ve been watching Avengers Assemble a lot lately, and I’m on s2 where the Avengers decide that the time to split up is when Ultron comes back, and it really strikes me just how ooc it is, mainly for Steve, and I’m gonna get into why after I give a little context.

So right before Ultron makes his grand appearance (I mean literally right before, maybe thirty seconds? A minute tops) The Avengers got done dealing with Thanos, which, you know, is a lot. Tony got the other Avengers to stall Thanos for time while he programmed this robot named Arsenal (a gift from his dad, and the only thing Tony has left of him) to be able to contain the Infinity Stones, which he did, but Tony cut it dangerously close, something Steve was quick to point out once everything was said and done. So Ultron comes back by taking over Arsenal’s body, and Tony manages to build a virus thing that’ll be able to take down Ultron, but won’t be able to save Arsenal...or so everyone thought. The Avengers were able to take down Ultron and Tony gave him the Ultron Destroyer (yes that’s what he actually named it) except it didn’t completely destroy him. Tony didn’t want to give Arsenal up without a fight, but he wasn’t able to save Arsenal and Ultron got away. Given previous episodes, the course I expected Steve to take was a fairly routine one: he would talk with Tony, tell him he fucked up, and tell him that someone else is going to be in charge of taking down Ultron, since Tony has proven that he isn’t able to do so. Except that’s not what Steve did. Instead he completely lost his shit, he told Tony that he’s been taking too many risks (I’m gonna get more into his whole thing with risks later) and that he’s put his own self-interests above the fate of the world one too many times (not even a little bit true) and then he tells Tony he can’t trust him anymore and leaves the Avengers.

It was...shocking. I remember the episode, I watched the first two seasons when I was 11, this show was actually what got me into Marvel, but now that I’m a bit older and I understand a bit more about characterization and other plot things like that, I was able to see how totally out of the blue it was for Steve to have reacted like that. He has consistently been Tony’s #1 fan, always defending him from other’s and Tony himself, and being a constant source of support for him from quite literally the first episodes of the show. So what gives? What on earth could cause Steve to so completely change how he views Tony?

(I hope you don’t mind if I take a shot at answering)

Let’s break down Steve’s reaction to how Tony handled the Ultron situation. His bit about Tony putting his own interests above the world is.....just complete bullshit, and I think Steve was just so angry with Tony, he was just searching for excuses to leave at that point, so I’m not gonna go into anymore detail on that particular detail. That risk line though...

Let me give you a bit more context. The episode after Steve leaves the Avengers, he joins S.H.I.E.L.D. but he ends up fighting Ultron with his old teammates at Avenger’s Tower anyway. Ultron has taken over Tony’s extra Iron Man suits and is attacking the Avengers and Steve, when Falcon has an idea to stop them. He tells Cap it’s a little risky to which Cap replies with something along the lines of “Enough with the risks. Can’t we try something a little more viable?” Jeez, Cap, since when have you been allergic to risks Mister “I’m gonna crash my plane into a fucking iceberg and get myself frozen for 70 years”? I’m sure nobody on that team enjoys taking risks like that, but in your line of work, that’s sometimes (all the time) your only option. It’s almost like something has happened recently, something to make Cap scared about his team taking risks....

Huh. Tony took a pretty big risk when they were fighting Thanos. And another one when he tried to save Arsenal from Ultron. Maybe Steve....is scared....about Tony....taking risks?

It’s an interesting thought at the very least, and can also explain his line about not trusting Tony. It’s not that he thinks Tony is a bad leader or would ever put the world behind his own agenda, it’s that he doesn’t trust Tony to know when to stop taking risks and take care of himself.

Steve didn’t leave the Avengers because he hates Tony and can’t work with him. Steve left because he loves Tony too much to see him get hurt.

#marvel #avengers assemble #2x13 #2x14 #2x15 #thanos triumphant #crack in the system #avengers dissassembled #stony #aa stony #steve rogers #tony stark #sam wilson #captain america #iron man #falcon #thanos #ultron

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creationcitystreet-em · 3 years

Text

His Southern Belle 1

Masterlist Full book 1 summary in the link

Chapter 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (face claim: Rose Leslie)

Word count: ~2450

Summary: Maddi starts her new school in Brooklyn and meets some new friends.

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I started this fic when I was still in high school, and I have worked really hard on it since. I’m not a fan of some of my writing from earlier chapters, but I don’t want to change them until I at least finish writing the entire story. I will be updating this fic here on tumblr one chapter a day until I am caught up with where I am at on the other platforms I’ve posted it. If you’d like to read ahead of that schedule, you can check them out on from the links on my masterlist. I just also wanted to make the fic available here on tumblr with the rest of my fandom interactions, so this is the plan to do that!

Unless otherwise indicated, all date entries are from Maddi’s POV.

September 5, 1932

I stood in front of the small class while my new teacher introduced me. I was in my best knee length dress trying to make the best first impression but I quickly realized the style in my hometown was very different from that of teenagers in New York. The girls seemed to have a little more money than my family as they wore nicer clothes and styled their hair to the newest fashion. My long red curls were probably a little too messy and I didn't wear the same socks and shoes as the them. I tried not to show how uncomfortable I felt when our teacher asked me to say my name to the class. I smiled and said "My name is Madeline Bennett, but my Mama and Daddy called me Maddi." I immediately heard laughter from the students and it made me feel twice as self conscious. It must be my accent, people in Brooklyn definitely sounded different than those in Tennessee. As soon as the teacher let me sit, I chose the only empty seat next to small and skinny boy with blond hair. He smiled at me but it was not cruel like the other kids when I walked to my seat, so I gave a small smile back.

During lunch, I sat alone until I heard the sound of a boy talking in front of me, "hey new girl, you know I can show you around if you want. I know some great places we can sneak off to together." I politely declined as I could tell his intentions did not seem innocent. He continued to push "Come on, look I know a lot of people laughed at you in class, but I can keep you safe baby doll. Once you're with me, nobody will be laughing." I immediately looked back down at my food trying to ignore the group of boys as they snickered behind the nameless boy who talked to me. I could tell this was probably a trick considering they were clearly still mocking me like before, and I just wanted to be left alone. I tried to hold back tears as I thought about how much I wished I could go back home with my family. I didn't want to be in Brooklyn hundreds of miles away from the only home I ever knew. I didn't want make new friends or learn how to live with a new family I barely knew. I wanted my safe little town where everyone knew who I was and nobody would dare pick on me unless they wanted my brother going after them. I missed my brother more than I ever would have admitted to him.

Just then, two more boys came to my table and I thought it would only get worse. "Leave her alone Jason, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you right now," the smaller of the two said. I now recognized him as the boy I sat next to in class.

"Alright Rogers, what are you going to do to stop me?" It was a fair questions, the boy was half a foot smaller than Jason and clearly much skinnier than the already developing teen.

"Listen Gally, I know you can see me standing right next to Steve here so you clearly should know when to keep your mouth shut. Now the lady said no earlier so I think you should respect her wishes and take your friends and leave." Jason Gally stared at the taller boy, who looked more like a man, and finally decided to leave. I continued to remain frozen in place after everything that happened, until I saw the two that helped me start to walk away as well.

"Wait!" I called to them as I wanted to tell them I appreciated what they did. They turned around and looked at me and I gathered up all the courage I had left to keep talking despite knowing they will clearly hear my accent. "Thank you for that. I got your name, Steve, but I didn't really catch yours," I said to the taller one.

"James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

"Well Bucky, Steve, thank you again."

"It was no problem, Maddi right?" Steve questioned to make sure he remembered my name correctly. I was pleasantly surprised and nodded my head yes.

I took a leap of faith and suddenly asked, "would y'all like to sit with me?" They stared at me for a second and I tried to explain myself quickly, "It's just that I'm new and don't have any friends yet. You two were so kind to stand up for me and I just wanted to know if maybe you would want to sit with me." I prayed I didn't just scare the two nice people in front of me off, but then they looked at each other and sat down across the table from me. I started to smile as they began to ask me about where I was from and why I moved to Brooklyn. "I'm from Tennessee, and I moved here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. They're the only family I really have left." they stayed quiet knowing I didn't want to go too deep into that subject just yet. The two nodded and didn't push anymore about it. I was very grateful for that.

It was towards the end of lunch and Steve said "Well Maddi, I'm glad we met you. Bucky is a year older than us but we still hang out after school. Where do you live, maybe we can walk home together?" I told them the general area I moved to and they both eagerly said they lived near there. We made plans to meet after school and for a brief second I thought that maybe moving to the big city wouldn't have been as terrible as I initially thought. I wished I could be back home, but knowing that I would never get to go back, having a couple friendly people here was the best I could ask for.

September 24, 1932

“How has school been going, Maddi?” Aunt Lily asked as I ate dinner with her and Uncle Ryan.

“Alright. I made a couple friends, but I don’t really seem to fit in with the class. They dress and talk different than back home.” I played with my food a bit while I thought about how the last couple weeks have been. Steve and Bucky were definitely very nice to call friends and I liked spending time with them, but girls still gave me strange looks and boys would bother me if I wasn’t with my new companions.

“Well, our neighbors have a granddaughter on the other side of town about a year or two older than you. I’ll see if she has any extra dresses you can have,” Aunt Lily offered. I knew she and Uncle Ryan felt bad for not having enough money to spend on me, but I really didn’t mind. With their two children already grown and moved across the country, they didn’t exactly plan to pay for an extra mouth to feed. Times were hard enough as it was without unexpected expenses. I never actually met these family members before: we never had the money to travel, but I heard about them a lot.

September 30, 1932

I wore my new dress that seemed to match more with the girls at school and it made me feel a little less nervous, but I also felt sad to be giving up more and more from my life in Tennessee. I sat with Steve and Bucky at lunch like I did everyday, and we talked about frivolous things until I asked Steve what was in the book he always carried around.

“It’s a sketch pad, I like to draw,” he said shyly.

“Can I see?” I asked and he hesitantly handed me his sketch pad and I flipped through the pages in awe. Each piece of paper had beautifully drawn pictures of buildings and landscapes. He had a few with people, but one close up of a young woman and man who looked in their early 20s. “Who are they?” I curiously questioned.

“That’s my parents,” he said quietly. “It’s from a picture when they were newly married. I don’t really remember my dad, he died in the Great War.”

“I’m sorry,” I said hoping I didn’t make him feel sad as I knew how it felt to lose a parent. “I lost my ma when I was young too, not as young but still I was 5 when she got sick.”

“Is that why you moved?” Bucky asked me.

“No, I still lived with my daddy and brother, Alex, until this summer when a storm hit and they both died. I was with a friend when it hit and a tornado took down my entire house and my family inside.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry Maddi,” Steve said as I fought back a few tears thinking about what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. I was lucky to have Aunt Lily and Uncle Ryan to take me when they heard, and now I got to meet you two so that’s good I guess.” I tried to look towards the better things in situations but it was always hard.

“Well, you’re officially our friend so there’s no getting out of it now,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Only now it’s official? What has been the last month then?” I asked with a laugh.

“A trial friendship,” Steve stated smiling.

“Yeah, just to make sure you weren’t crazy or anything” said Bucky.

“I’m glad y’all think I’m worthy of being your friend then!” I winked at them as I continued the joke. We all laughed as we finished our food and headed back to class for the day.

December 24, 1932

“The snow is so beautiful on Christmas,” I sighed as I walked through the park with Steve and Bucky like we sometimes did together.

“It sure is, but I’ve always wanted to see snow where there were no buildings in sight. Just miles of it with nothing else to mess the blanket of white up,” Steve told me as we saw children running through the already played in snow.

“That is a sight to see, but I think that's just wasted? Look at how happy all this available snow makes everyone, that’s something worth drawing.” I said this as I knew that was one of the reasons he probably liked the idea of untouched snow: to be able to draw the scene. “Draw me and Bucky!”

“What?” Bucky questioned, not sure what he had to do with this topic.

“Draw us playing in the snow,” I requested with a smile. Bucky quickly got the idea and ran towards a clean pile. He made a snowball and threw it directly at me hitting me on the shoulder. “Alright Barnes, you have it coming to you now!” and I laughed while I ran to make a snowball as well except I missed when throwing it at him. He laughed at me until I made another and hit him square in the face. I heard a chuckle from Steve and I looked over at him sitting on a nearby bench watching us and making small rough sketches in his book. “Come one Steve, put it to memory and come play with us!” He looked slightly surprised for a second until he put his book down and came over to join our snowball fight. We did this for about an hour until we sat down on the bench to rest. Steve quickly went right back to his book to continue his scene he started on. We sat in silence for a while just taking in the day.

“What are your holiday plans, Maddi?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t really talked about it. We’ll probably go to Mass tonight and I got a small present for my aunt and uncle tomorrow. I don’t really expect much of a present for myself; besides, my favorite part has always been Christmas Eve Mass. My daddy and Alex and I would go and then always visit mama after. I guess I can’t see any of them this year since their all buried in Tennessee.” I had never really thought of that until now and it quickly took away all of my joy from playing in the snow before. “They would have liked you guys,” I added before they could reply. “You're both gentlemen and passionate about what you care for.”

“They’d like Bucky,” Steve tried to clarify as he continued to draw.

“No, they’d like you both,” I told him with confidence. “Especially you, your heart is much more kind than this silly guy sitting next to me,” I laughed as I sat between them and gestured towards Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky said with a smile. “Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!” Steve just stayed quiet and had a slight blush on his face.

I put my arms around both their necks and said “thank you for making Brooklyn more bearable.”

“You did that,” Steve said as he looked at me and I smiled back at him.

December 25, 1932

There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it. When I opened the door, Steve stood there waiting and I gave him a surprised smile. “Hey,” he started. “I know today is mostly spending with family so I’ll try to be quick. I just wanted to give you your present.”

“Steve, you didn’t have to get me anything!” I began to feel bad as I had nothing to give in return.

“It’s nothing, here.” He handed me a piece of paper and I saw it was a beautiful drawing of Bucky and I in the snow from the previous day. I just stared at it for a few seconds in awe before he continued, “Sorry it isn’t that detailed, I was trying to finish as quick as I could and the shading might not be-” I cut him off by hugging him.

“I love it!” I said as he wrapped his arms back around me. “I love the art you make, it’s so good. Thank you for giving me one, it really means a lot.” We both let go and and he was redder than I had ever seen him before.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle. We then said our goodbyes and he went back home to spend the rest of the day with his mother.

Next Chapter

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ripley95 · 4 years

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Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 8

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 2.9K

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

Shepard has some bonding time with all of Kaidan’s sisters, leaving her with more regrets. Shepard and Libby work through their differences.

Link to Chapter 8 on AO3

Tumblr Links:

Read the chapter here below the cut:

Raiya and Shepard made their way upstairs after finishing their coffee on the porch. Raiya still hadn’t elaborated on her plan to get Shepard on Libby’s good side. The house was still silent. None of the other Alenkos had woken up yet. Shepard was starting to fear that Raiya was about to wake Libby up to moderate some harsh discussion between the two of them. Sometimes the direct approach was the best, but Shepard wasn’t too keen on the idea, scared that waking her up in such a way would do nothing to sway Libby. Her fears were quickly alleviated when they ended up in front of Maisie’s door instead.

Raiya barged right in without so much as a single knock, and sat down gently on the bed next to Maisie.

“She sleeps like a rock, so hopefully she’ll want to wake up,” Raiya said, looking at Shepard before prodding her sister on the shoulder to no avail. “I’m sure if she knew Commander Shepard was in need of her help, she’d be more interested,” Raiya said, with a raised voice this time, while fully shaking Maisie’s shoulder this time.

“Uuuggghhh,” Maisie said, while rolling over, still not bothering to open her eyes. “Someone better be dying,” she groaned out.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m afraid not.”

“What do you want, then?” she said, basically slurring her speech with how tired she was.

“Jane’s here, and we need your help.”

Her eyes jolted open, and she looked towards her doorway to see Shepard standing there, waving as a greeting. Maisie promptly sat up, wondering what was going on.

“What is it?! What do you need?”

“Do you have any of that hair dye left?” Raiya asked, pointing to Maisie’s hair.

“Hair dye? That’s it? That’s what you had to wake me up for?” she asked, clearly irritated.

“Sorry. I know it doesn’t seem like something worthy of being woken up for, but I didn’t want to use any without your permission, and we’re kind of on a time crunch.”

Maisie looked over to Shepard now, with an entertained grin on her face. “Why? Trying to disappear from the Alliance, so you can run off with Kaidan or something?” Clearly, her imagination had already run wild with ideas.

“Jeez, Maisie, why are you always so dramatic?”

“I’m not dramatic,” she said, looking scornfully at her sister. “You’re just boring.”

Shepard held back a laugh, contemplating once again what a life with siblings must have been like. It was certainly interesting from this side of the conversation, at least.

“So, if it’s nothing so dramatic,” she said with an emphasised distaste of the word, “what was so dire that you had to wake me up?”

“You saw Libby yesterday. She was practically seething at Jane.”

“You could say that again.”

“Yeah, well, the wedding is tomorrow already, but I think I’ve figured out a way to extend an olive branch.”

“By dying Shepard’s hair?”

“Well, Libby’s problem with Jane being here is that she’s too recognizable, and she doesn’t want the attention taken off of her on her big day, right? So maybe if we make her not look so much like ‘Commander Shepard,’ Libby won’t have to worry about that.”

“Hmm. Yeah, okay, maybe that’ll work.”

Shepard still hadn’t even gotten a word in edgewise, but she had to admit that the idea sounded promising. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt anything, so it was worth a shot.

“Great, so do you still have any?”

“Psht, of course.”

“Well, can we use it?”

“Use it? Come on. I’ll even do it for you,” she said as she flung the covers off of herself, shoving her way past Shepard, still standing in the doorway.

She walked across the hall, into the bathroom, and started rummaging around in the cupboards, Raiya and Jane following after her.

“Oooh, I think you’d look good with this,” she said, holding up a box of what looked like the rest of the blue dye she must have used in her most recent colour change.

“The point is to draw less attention to her, Maisie. Don’t you have anything a bit more basic?”

“Ugh, yeah, fine,” she said, going back to the cupboards to rummage around again. She stood up with a box in her hand, showing them the new option. “Here. I think this is about as opposite as it’s going to get while still looking natural.”

“I think that’ll work,” Shepard said, taking the box and turning it over in her hand, sounding pleased. “How long does this stuff last, exactly?”

Maisie laughed at that, eliciting a slightly worried gaze from Shepard.

“Oh, you’re serious? It’s permanent, so until your hair grows out.”

“Of course it is,” she said, slightly exasperated, handing the box back to Maisie. “Oh well. It’s not a big deal. I really don’t like the thought of ruining Libby’s wedding, so whatever it takes.”

“Well, if you don’t like the colour, we can always dye it blue after the wedding,” Maisie said teasingly as she opened the box.

As she studied herself in the mirror, Shepard had to admit it was a pretty substantial difference. She was rather pleased with the outcome, hoping it was enough to make Libby feel better.

“It looks good,” Raiya said from behind her.

“Yeah? You don’t think I’m too recognizable still?”

“I mean, you do have a pretty recognizable face,” Maisie said.

“People only really know you as a soldier, though. Maybe with some makeup and a dress, most people won’t even notice,” Raiya said.

“Hopefully,” Shepard agreed.

“My husband will be arriving later today. I didn’t get a chance to tell him that you were Kaidan’s date, so he can be our first test subject to see if this might actually work,” Raiya said with a laugh.

“Ooh, that’ll be fun,” Maisie said from behind them, as she started cleaning up all the supplies. “Make sure I’m in the room for that!”

“Sure thing,” Raiya said with a smile.

“I think I actually forgot you were married,” Shepard said, looking back towards Raiya.

“Yeah, almost 8 years now. He’s a teacher. He’s set up a school closer to our house. He’s trying to provide structure for all of the kids in town again since the war ended, so he wanted to wait to come here until a little closer to the wedding. He’ll be bringing Austin, too.”

“Your son?” Shepard asked. She vaguely remembered Kaidan telling her something about a nephew during their time together on the Normandy.

“Yup,” Raiya said with a smile. “But anyway, I think this could do the trick.”

“Unless people are a little too curious about Kaidan finally bringing someone home that they start asking a ton of questions,” Maisie said.

“I guess that’s a possibility. At least this is something, though, right? Maybe it’ll at least make sure the ceremony goes well since people won’t get a chance to mingle until the reception for the most part.”

“It’s not like I’m going to introduce myself as Commander Shepard at a wedding,” she cut in.

That made Maisie laugh. “Could you imagine? That would be hilarious. That is a good point, though. We didn’t even know you by your first name, so if you introduce yourself as Jane, maybe this actually has a good chance of working.”

“See, now we just have to get Libby on board. I’m sure she’s awake by now. Probably best to rip the bandaid off and get it over with, right?”

“I’ll go check if she’s up,” Maisie said, running over to her door and knocking urgently, Raiya and Shepard following after.

“What?!” came a yell from the other side.

“It’s Maisie, can I come in?”

“Yeah, fine,” they heard from the other side.

Maisie opened the door, and all but shoved Shepard into the room before closing it on the two of them.

Shepard heard a “Wow, Maisie, really?” from behind the door, followed by a “Yeah, it’s better to let them deal with it by themselves.”

Shepard would have preferred to deal with this herself anyway, but she might have liked a smoother entrance. Now she was left a little dumbfounded, standing by the door. Libby was sitting in front of a vanity, putting makeup on. The commotion made her look in the mirror towards the door to see what was going on. Shepard made eye contact with her through the reflection and gave a subtle wave.

“Um, hi,” Shepard said, still caught slightly off guard. “Sorry about that, but I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute. Not exactly the way I would have gone about it, but here we are.”

Libby took a good look at Shepard through the mirror before letting out a sigh and turning around. “Yeah, Maisie can be... forceful,” she said, pointing towards the end of the bed, her way of telling Shepard she could have a seat.

Shepard smiled in acceptance, and went to sit on the bed across from her. She was pleased by the fact that Libby didn’t sound too annoyed.

“Did you do that for me?” Libby asked, pointing to Shepard’s hair, immediately recognizing the gesture.

“Yeah. Listen, I really feel like I need to apologise. I never joined the Alliance intending to be in the spotlight. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that I’m this public figure, especially when I’m just trying to live my life, you know? The last thing I ever wanted to do was ruin your wedding.”

Libby shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re the one apologising.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on. I think we both know I was pretty terrible to you yesterday.”

“I think I just took everyone by surprise.”

“You’re too kind. I know it wasn’t my finest moment. None of this was your fault. There’s no excuse for me being so standoffish. I’m sorry about that. My reaction wasn’t even really about you, to be honest.”

Shepard nodded slowly, accepting the apology, sensing the tension easing between them slightly. “Wait, so are you telling me I did this for nothing?” she said, pointing to her hair, laughing.

That elicited a laugh from Libby, too. “Well, not for nothing, I guess. I appreciate you wanting to make a peace offering. And honestly, I could see that creating less of an upheaval throughout the wedding, so I’m still grateful that you did it. I’m just sorry that you felt like you had to,” she said, a little more solemnly.

“Don’t worry about it. I can always change it back or let it grow out. It’s just hair dye. It’s not a big deal.”

Libby forced a smile at that.

“Hey, I know we only just met, but if you want to talk about it, or need extra help or anything, I’m not just here to be a bystander.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking down at her hands. “It’s just that nothing about this wedding is going how I expected it to. I think seeing you yesterday was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Shepard nodded, perceiving that there was a larger issue going on. “I can understand that. But hey, you don’t owe me an explanation. I know this must be a stressful time for you.”

Libby huffed out a sigh. “You could say that again. And I may not owe you an explanation, but after the way I treated you yesterday, I kind of feel like that’s the least I can offer you. You probably didn’t know this, but I was supposed to be getting married the same week the reapers landed.”

That suddenly made a lot of sense. Of course, all of her original plans would have gone flying out the window.

“The whole family was here. Kaidan was even in Vancouver for work, and the timing was perfect since he wasn’t assigned to be off-planet for a while. It was going to be the first big family celebration since Raiya’s wedding. Dad was here…” she trailed off.

And of course, now he wasn’t. Shepard hung her head, understanding the significance of everything that had changed for Libby.

“Derek, my fiancé, enlisted almost immediately after the reapers landed, otherwise we might have just eloped. He and my dad were both shipped out so quickly, we didn’t even have the chance. Obviously, Derek made it through to the end of the war just fine, but we ended up holding it off for so long now. Things have been rough with the rebuilding efforts, and Derek has been shipped out on duty more often than not, making it hard to plan anything. Kaidan was missing for so long, and Dad’s status was officially changed to KIA. The entire family was so distraught that we didn’t particularly feel like having a wedding for a while after the war.”

“But then when Kaidan finally made it back,” Libby continued with a smile. “Everyone was so happy. There was finally a reason to celebrate something again, and I kind of thought that a wedding was a perfect excuse to get everyone together and be happy for once. But nothing feels happy right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still thrilled that Derek and I are finally getting married. We’ve been waiting for so long. But nothing else feels right about it. It feels so trivial to be doing something like this when the galaxy is still rebuilding. It feels wrong, trying to celebrate when there are people that were supposed to be here, but aren’t. Dad should be here,” she said, letting out a sigh and rubbing her forehead.

“Obviously, none of this is your fault,” she amended quickly. “But I guess something about seeing you felt like it was just another wrench being thrown into my plans. It really shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. I think everything’s just been getting to me. I haven’t seen Derek for months. He wanted to help with all of this, but we decided it would be nicer to spend quality time together after the wedding rather than wasting all of our time together planning it, so we timed his leave around that. I miss him. I miss my dad. With the weight of it all… well, I guess I just overreacted,” she said as she turned back toward the vanity, looking regretful.

“Libby,” Shepard said softly to gain her attention again. “I know nothing I can say can fix everything you’re going through, but I think if there’s one lesson that we can all learn from this war, it’s that we shouldn’t squander these chances to celebrate the good things in life. I didn’t know your dad, but he seemed like a good man who valued his family more than anything. I know this is easier said than done, but I think he’d want you to be happy and enjoy your life.”

Libby nodded, and turned back towards the vanity. Shepard took that to mean that Libby likely wanted some privacy, so she stood up from the bed. Before moving to leave, she went to put her hand on Libby’s shoulder as a sign of comfort.

“You don’t have to feel guilty for being happy about something so important to you.”

Libby looked up at her in the mirror and gave her a weak smile. She squeezed Shepard’s hand with appreciation.

Jane took that as her cue to leave. Right as she was about to go through the door, Libby spoke up one last time.

“Thanks, Jane,” she said, watching Jane’s face through the mirror.

“Any time,” she said genuinely. “And hey, if this doesn’t do the trick,” she said, pointing to her hair, “Then I’ll just excuse myself to try to make things as easy for you as possible.”

Libby huffed out a laugh as her smile turned into something more authentic. “It’s okay, Jane. I’m not going to make you do that, even if you do cause a scene.”

Shepard nodded in acceptance. She was glad that Libby wasn’t actually mad at her, at least.

“No hard feelings, I hope?” Libby continued.

“Of course not. I’m just glad we got to clear the air.”

“Thanks for the talk,” Libby said. “Damn, you really are diplomatic, aren’t you?”

Shepard grinned. “So I hear.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Libby said in thanks.

“Don’t mention it,” Shepard said, taking that as her cue to leave, closing the door behind her to grant Libby some privacy.

As she closed the door, she stood in front of it silently in contemplation. It was good that she managed to fix so much, yet she was worried about the ever-growing hole she was digging herself into with everyone thinking she and Kaidan are in a relationship. It was almost easier when she thought that Libby and Raiya really didn’t like her. It would have been so much more simple to go back to her life without Kaidan, thinking that his family at least wasn’t fond of her. But now their whole mishap had gotten so out of hand. Libby was apologising, and Raiya was giving her a second chance. Kaidan’s family was nice. Too nice. She could already feel them weaselling their way into her heart just like he had. It was bad enough having feelings for Kaidan, but now she could feel herself beginning to care about his whole family.

‘It’ll all be over soon,’ she reminded herself, as she finally decided to move somewhere that wasn’t right in front of Libby’s door. One way or another, it was true, and that damn saying would become her mantra.

#f!Shenko #f!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko #f!Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #mass effect #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #mini slow burn #angst #friends to lovers #accidental dating #my fic on tumblr #my writing

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