Eli’s Library

he nods, eyes softening. “same here. third night in a row.”

you grab a basket and start wandering the aisles, grabbing ramen, strawberry milk, and those chocolate-covered pretzels you’ve become addicted to. when you return to the counter, he’s already bagging someone else’s items—a drunk businessman who nearly trips on his way out.

“that’s it for tonight,” jungkook says, locking the door behind the last customer and flipping the open sign to closed. “just us now.”

your heart does this little fluttery thing it’s been doing every time you talk to him. you’ve learned bits and pieces about him over your nightly visits. he’s 23, studying graphic design, works the graveyard shift to pay tuition, has a pet dog named bam.

“big night for pretzels?” he asks, scanning your items with practiced efficiency.

“they help me sleep,” you lie. they just help you pass the time until dawn.

“right,” he says, but his smile tells you he knows you’re full of shit. “hey, i’m about to take my break. want to join me in the back? i make a mean instant ramen.”

you shouldn’t. you barely know him beyond these brief interactions, but there’s something about the way he looks at you, like you’re the most interesting person in this sleepy town at 3 am.

“sure,” you hear yourself say before you can overthink it.

the storage room is surprisingly cozy, with a small table, mini fridge, and a hot pot. he moves efficiently, boiling water and adding the ramen packets, his tattoos shifting with his movements.

“so what keeps you up at night?” he asks, sliding a steaming bowl toward you.

“just... thoughts,” you say vaguely. “you?”

“deadlines,” he says, stirring his own ramen. “and maybe too much caffeine during the day.”

you eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the slurping of noodles the only sound. it’s nice—this unexpected intimacy in the fluorescent-lit back room of a convenience store.

“can i ask you something?” he says suddenly, putting down his chopsticks.

you nod, mouth full of noodles.

“why do you keep coming here every night? there’s a 24-hour store closer to your apartment, i’ve seen it.”

you swallow hard. how do you admit that it’s because of him? that seeing his smile has become the highlight of your sleepless nights?

“i like the selection here,” you say weakly.

he leans forward, elbows on the table, and you notice how his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “right. and it has nothing to do with my charming personality?”

heat floods your cheeks. “maybe a little.”

“good,” he says, looking pleased. “because i’ve been hoping that’s why.”

the air shifts between you, thick with unspoken words. his gaze drops to your lips, and you find yourself leaning closer without meaning to.

“i should—” you start, but he cuts you off by closing the distance.

his lips are soft, tasting of artificial chicken flavor and something uniquely him. it’s gentle at first, questioning, but when you respond, it deepens into something more confident. his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer, and you’re suddenly aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

“i’ve wanted to do that since your third visit,” he says when you break apart, breathless.

“why didn’t you?”

“didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits, thumb stroking your side. "you seem like the type to run."

“maybe,” you say, but you’re not running. in fact, you’re pressing closer, wanting more.

the second kiss is different—hungrier and more urgent. his tongue slides against yours, and you make this embarrassing little sound that seems to encourage him. his other hand comes up to cup your face, thumb stroking your jaw as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss.

when his hand slips under your hoodie, you gasp into his mouth. his fingers are warm against your skin, tracing patterns on your back. you’ve never been so turned on so quickly, your body responding to his touch like it’s been waiting for this.

“we shouldn’t,” you say even as you’re pulling him closer.

“no one’s coming in until 6,” he murmurs against your neck, lips trailing down to your collarbone. “plenty of time.”

his words are like gasoline on a fire. you’ve never done anything like this—spontaneous, reckless, in the back room of a convenience store with someone you barely know. but it feels right, somehow, in this sleepless bubble you’ve been living in.

he lifts you onto the table, and your legs wrap around his waist automatically. the position is awkward, your ass pressing against the hard surface, but you don’t care. all that matters is the way he’s looking at you, like you’re something precious and edible at the same time.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he says, and it’s so direct it makes your chest ache.

no one’s called you hot in months, not since you broke up with your ex. you’ve been feeling frumpy and undesirable, your insomnia only making things worse. but jungkook looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

his hands slide up your thighs, pushing your sleep shorts aside. you’re not wearing underwear—too lazy to bother when you’re just stumbling around your apartment at night, and his eyes darken when he realizes it.

“fuck,” he breathes, fingers tracing your folds. “you’re already so wet.”

you can only nod, embarrassed by how quickly he’s affected you. his thumb finds your clit, and you jolt, a whimper escaping your lips.

“shhh,” he says with a grin. “don’t want the security cameras to hear.”

you laugh, but it turns into a moan as he slides a finger inside you. his movements are practiced, confident, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you’re so sensitive from weeks without touch that it doesn’t take long before you’re squirming on his hand.

“please,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re asking for.

he gets it anyway, dropping to his knees in front of you. the sight of him between your legs, tattoos on full display, is almost enough to make you come right then. his first lick is tentative, but when you respond with a choked moan, he grows bolder.

his tongue is magic, swirling and flicking in just the right ways. he’s good at this—really good.

“jungkook,” you whimper, fingers tangling in his hair.

he hums against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. his fingers join his tongue, curling inside you as he sucks on your clit. it’s too much and not enough all at once, and you can feel yourself getting close embarrassingly fast.

“don’t stop,” you beg, hips grinding against his face.

he doesn’t, doubling his efforts until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids. your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your back arching as you cry out his name. he doesn’t stop until you’re pushing him away, oversensitive.

“fuck,” you breathe, collapsing back against the table. “that was…”

“yeah?” he asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

you nod, unable to form words as he stands up, undoing his jeans. his cock springs free, and your mouth waters at the sight. he’s bigger than you expected, thick and curved, with a bead of precum at the tip.

“condom?” you ask, voice shaky.

“shit,” he says, freezing. “i don’t—i wasn’t expecting—”

“it’s okay,” you say quickly. “i’m on the pill. and i’m clean.”

he searches your face for a moment, then nods. “me too.”

that’s all the confirmation you need before you’re pulling him closer, guiding him to your entrance. he pushes in slowly, and you both groan at the stretch.

it’s been too long since you’ve been with anyone like this, and the feeling of him filling you is overwhelming in the best way. he pauses once he’s fully inside, giving you time to adjust, his forehead resting against yours.

“okay?” he asks, voice strained.

you nod, unable to speak. his hands grip your hips, and when he starts to move, you see stars. his thrusts are slow at first, deliberate, like he’s savoring every moment. the table creaks beneath you, a rhythmic protest to your activities.

“faster,” you manage to gasp out, and he obliges.

his pace quickens, hips snapping against yours. the storage room fills with the sounds of your breathing, the slap of skin on skin, and your increasingly desperate moans. you’ve never been this loud during sex before, but something about jungkook makes you lose all inhibitions.

“you feel so good,” he grits out, his rhythm faltering slightly. “so fucking tight.”

his words send another jolt of pleasure through you. you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. the angle changes, and he hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white.

“right there,” you whimper. “don’t stop.”

and he listens, focusing his efforts on that sensitive area until you’re trembling beneath him. your second orgasm builds quickly, more intense than the first. when it hits, you dig your nails into his shoulders, crying out his name as your walls clench around him.

“fuck,” he groans, his movements becoming erratic. “i’m gonna—”

“inside,” you say before you can think better of it. “come inside me.”

his eyes widen at your words, and with a final thrust, he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a guttural moan. the feeling of him pulsing inside you prolongs your orgasm, leaving you both breathless and trembling.

for a moment, you just stay like that, him still inside you, your foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath. the fluorescent lights hum above, a reminder of where you are—having sex in the back room of a convenience store with a man you barely know.

he pulls out first, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. you watch as he uses a paper towel to clean himself up, then tosses it in the trash. you slide off the table, your legs shaky, and straighten your clothes.

“well,” he says, breaking the silence. “that was unexpected.”

you nod, grabbing your bag of snacks from the floor. “yeah.”

“i should get back to work,” he says, already moving toward the door. “my break’s almost over.”

“right,” you say, following him out.

he unlocks the door and flips the sign back to open. the first rays of dawn are starting to appear outside, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. you pay for your items, the transaction feeling strangely normal after what just happened.

“see you around,” he says as you head for the door.

“maybe,” you reply, pushing open the door and stepping out into the early morning air.

as you walk home, the bag of snacks swinging at your side, you realize something. you’re not tired anymore. not even a little bit. and as you glance back at the convenience store, you wonder if you’ll be back tomorrow night. maybe you will, maybe you won’t. for now, that’s enough.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

part (1/2)

“Yoooo, Tae! Guess who’s on the news again!” Jimin’s voice calls out from the living room as Taehyung steps out of the kitchen, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, still drying his hands. His gaze instinctively shifts to the television where the news is going on.

“Masked Vigilante Foils Bank Robbery, Outpaces Authorities Yet Again!” the headline blazes in big bold letters at the bottom of the screen.

The low quality footage right above the headline is shaky, clearly recorded by a bystander’s phone. Amid the chaos, a red-and-blue masked figure moves with effortless agility, a blur of motion against the grainy backdrop.

He swings from lampposts and somersaults over obstacles, his web-like strands ensnaring weapons and disarming the robbers with precision that feels almost cinematic. The anchor’s voice overlays the footage, tinged with awe.

“This mysterious figure, operating outside the bounds of law enforcement, has once again saved the city. Witnesses say he intervened at the last moment, preventing a potentially catastrophic bank robbery. Who is he? And what drives this masked vigilante to risk his life, time and again for a city that doesn’t even know his name?”

Taehyung leans in, his brow knitting together as he studies the screen. He doesn’t need to guess who it is, he already knows who this "masked vigilante" is.

The fluid acrobatics, the flawless precision, and, above all, the iconic design of that red-and-blue suit leave no room for doubt. “Holy shit.” he mutters under his breath, eyes still glued to the screen. “Wasn’t he supposed to meet Y/n?”

Jimin chuckles from the couch, his posture relaxed as if this is just another Tuesday. “Yeah. But you know him, he probably saw the commotion on the way and couldn’t help himself.”

Taehyung’s gaze remains fixed on the television as the news anchor's voice fills the room again.

“Dubbed ‘The Amazing Spiderman’ by fans online, this masked hero has become an enigma. While officials remain silent, the public praises his ability to achieve what even trained authorities cannot. Love him or hate him, one thing is certain— Spiderman always saves the day.”

Just as Taehyung is about to say something, a faint yet distinct thud echoes against the window right behind the couch where Jimin's seated. Both of them snap their heads towards the sound and... there he is.

Perched on the narrow windowsill is the masked vigilante himself—The Amazing Spiderman a.k.a Jeon Jungkook.

The red-and-blue suit clings to his body, glistening with sweat from exertion. His chest heaves, each breath labored, as he presses his forehead against the window glass.

His mask is in his hand, revealing his sweaty disheveled hair and a face that speaks of exhaustion mixed with determination. With a weak knock of his head against the glass, he signals his roommates to let him in.

Taehyung gasps at the sight and instantly strides towards the window, sliding it open. “Kook, are you insane?” he exclaims and Jungkook practically tumbles inside, catching himself on the edge of the couch before collapsing into it beside Jimin.

“What... time is it?” Jungkook rasps, his voice hoarse, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “Seven.” Jimin replies nonchalantly, his attention still half on the news broadcast.

“Shit.” Jungkook mutters throwing his head back as he continues to pant, struggling to catch his breath. He rises from the couch after a few seconds, trying to balance himself. “Shit, shit, shit.” He repeats, hurrying towards his room.

Taehyung follows behind, leaning against the doorframe as he watches Jungkook throw his mask onto the bed and quickly yank off his gloves, tossing them haphazardly onto his desk.

“Weren’t you supposed to meet Y/n? For that art club thing?” Taehyung asks, raising an eyebrow. “Exactly!!” Jungkook whines, quickly undressing himself. As he pulls a hoodie over his frame, he glances at Taehyung.

“I was supposed to meet her at SIX, but then…” He pauses as he takes a seat on the bed and proceeds to slip on a new pair of socks along with his shoes.

Once he's done, Jungkook looks back at Taehyung, his frustration still palpable. “But there was this huge chaos at the bank, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop myself.” he admits as he stands up once more and heads towards his vanity.

Taehyung chuckles softly, watching his friend pace around the room, doing his best to salvage his disheveled appearance. That fight must’ve been exhausting.

Jungkook's one hell of a character... by day, just another regular college student... by night, the city’s elusive hero, Spiderman.

Taehyung often finds himself marveling at how his best friend, also his roommate, manages to juggle it all... his regular life and his double life... while keeping his true identity locked away tight, hidden from everyone.

"Knowing her, she won’t be too mad, I guess." Taehyung says with a casual shrug. “Let’s hope.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, clearly unconvinced.

After a few more moments of hurriedly fixing his hair into something more presentable, Jungkook strides towards the balcony door and opens it wide.

“Kook, you can literally use the front door.” Taehyung laughs, following him to the balcony, amusement in his voice. “This is faster.” Jungkook replies, already stepping onto the narrow ledge, looking down into the darkened street below.

Before Taehyung can protest any further, Jungkook leaps into the night, vanishing into the shadows with practiced ease.

Your gaze remains fixed on the canvas, eyes locked in concentration as your hand moves with fluidity, the paintbrush gliding across the surface.

The rhythm of your wrist matches the steady flow of the brush, leaving behind trails of vibrant color. You’ve been working on this piece for over two months now, meticulously crafting every detail for the upcoming college exhibition next month.

Jeon Jungkook, your partner, was supposed to be here today at six to help you with the finishing touches on the painting. But as you glance at the time, it's already 7:09 pm.

A soft sigh escapes your lips because he's still not here and frankly, this is so typical of him. Jeon Jungkook is always late.

But beyond his chronic tardiness, there’s something else about him.

He’s the campus heartthrob... the boy with the dreamiest set of eyes and the kind of smile that could make knees buckle.

Since your freshman year, he’s been the talk of the town, effortlessly climbing the social ladder. It’s baffling how, within just two weeks of college, he had managed to make himself one of the most popular guys on campus.

What surprised you more, though, was how, while girls seemed to swoon at his every move, desperately trying to catch his attention, this handsome, almost untouchable man was inexplicably fixated on none other than... you.

You don't exactly know how to explain the dynamic between you and Jungkook. You wouldn’t call yourselves friends... not when the way he acts with you goes far beyond what a friend would do.

For as long as you can remember, ever since the moment your paths first crossed, Jungkook has been nothing short of a flirt. But calling him just a flirt now feels like an understatement, a mere label that doesn't come close to capturing the way he actually makes you feel.

There’s something magnetic about him, something that draws you in against your will. His confidence, oozing from every word and glance, is impossible to ignore.

He doesn’t just flirt, he performs it as though he has an unspoken understanding that you’re his audience. And though his every word seems designed to get under your skin, there’s a strange kind of charm to it, one that makes it impossible to stay guarded, no matter how hard you try.

At first, you told yourself he was just another guy obsessed with his own reflection, someone who thought his good looks could win him anything, someone who believed he could have any girl he wanted.

But over time, it became harder to dismiss the undeniable pull this annoyingly handsome boy seemed to have on you.

He was everywhere. In almost every class you attended, always just a few steps behind you in the cafeteria, trailing you to the library when you tried to bury yourself in your studies, and somehow, no matter how hard you try to stay focused, his presence is impossible to ignore.

Hell, the guy even joined the art club just because you were in it and somehow managed to persuade you to be his partner, despite the countless other girls who were practically begging for the chance to take your place.

But it’s not just his presence that lingers.

It’s the way your heart beats louder in his presence, the way you find yourself gulping when he leans just a little too close, when his fingers graze your hair as he brushes it away from your face, his touch sending an electric jolt through you.

But that was nothing compared to the way he’d casually whisper provocative things in your ear... sometimes it was a simple compliment, like how stunning you looked in your new skirt, and other times, it was something much... bolder, like how he could... kiss you against the wall if you’d just let him.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel weak, your knees trembling in a way that felt completely foreign to you. And every time he’s near, your heart seems to race in a silent war with the walls of your chest, as if fighting to escape and be nearer to him.

But deep down, you know too well that you can't give in. No matter how dreamy and ecstatic he makes you feel, guys like Jungkook were nothing but trouble.

Good-looking, charismatic, and fully aware of the effect they had on people and guys like him were a perfectly packaged recipe for heartbreak and chaos.

The way he makes you feel is electric, a sensation that clouds your mind and leaves you breathless, but there’s always that nagging thought in the back of your mind... that maybe, to him, it’s all just a game. A silly way to pass his time.

For all you knew, he was probably doing the same with countless other girls because though you hadn’t believed it at first, you were beginning to see the truth now.

Guys like Jungkook could truly have any girl they wanted.

And yet, you can’t seem to push him out of your life, no matter how much you tell yourself you should. You let him follow you around, you let him flirt, you let him talk to you... because, despite the outrageous teasing and the sneaky comments, Jungkook is undeniably a nice guy.

Sometimes, the two of you have real conversations, ones that leave you smiling without even realizing it. He’s fun to be around, with the kind of humor that could lighten anyone’s mood, and there’s no denying he’s a good person underneath it all.

There’s also no denying the tension between you. It’s thick, tangible, and sometimes too tempting to ignore. But somehow, over these past few months, you’ve become a pro at holding back... at resisting what feels inevitable, even when it’s so very hard to do.

As you continue to work on your canvas, the swirl of racing thoughts crowding your mind, you suddenly hear a faint zapping sound at the entrance of the campus art studio. Your gaze shifts instinctively towards the door, and there he is... Jungkook.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, clearly trying to catch his breath. The way his chest rises and falls with every pant makes it obvious that he ran here.

You can’t help but watch him as he slowly regains his composure. The moment his eyes lock with yours, that familiar grin of his spreads across his face. That damn smile, the one that makes everything inside you stir.

"Did I keep you waiting for too long, Ace?" His voice is playful, teasing, as he strides towards you with that effortless confidence.

Ace. The nickname he’s given you, because in his eyes, you excel at everything you touch. Or at least, that’s how he always puts it with that knowing grin, as if it’s the simplest truth in the universe.

You roll your eyes, pretending to focus on your work, though you can feel the unmistakable flutter in your chest. "You’re a whole hour late, Jeon." you mutter, deliberately turning your attention back to the canvas, doing your best to ignore the effect he has on you.

Jungkook pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he notices the way you tense under his gaze. It's a reaction he’s grown all too familiar with, yet every time, it still amuses him in the most endearing way.

The way you get flustered, desperately trying to mask it, your cheeks flushing just slightly as you feign annoyance, scrunching your nose as if it could hide the effect he has on you... he loves it.

To Jungkook, you're the center of his webbed thoughts, occupying full residence in his mind ever since the very first time he laid eyes on you.

Jungkook had always been used to attention from girls. It was almost second nature for him, the charming, effortlessly charismatic guy who could turn heads without even trying. But you? You were a different kind of challenge, one he couldn’t ignore, even if he tried.

When he first saw you, something shifted. You weren’t like the others. While the rest of the girls seemed to fit into a predictable pattern of admiration, you stood out.

You were a mystery he couldn’t unravel, a riddle he couldn’t stop thinking about. Your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep... it was in the way you moved, the way your laughter sounded like a melody that stayed with him long after you were gone.

It was in the kindness that poured out of you effortlessly, how you treated everyone with a warmth that felt like home.

From the moment your smile met his, Jungkook knew he had to make you his. It wasn’t a question of whether you’d be interested... it was a certainty in his mind that somehow, someway, you would be.

The intensity of his feelings was undeniable, and it made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t before. He was confident, almost to the point of arrogance, but there was something about you that made him feel more vulnerable than he'd ever let on.

For months now, Jungkook has been pining over you, showering you with flirtations, occasional date invitations, and endless compliments. Yet, no matter how hard he tries, you haven’t given in.

It doesn’t frustrate him, though... in fact, it only fuels his desire. To him, it’s a challenge, and if there’s one thing Jungkook loves more than anything, it’s a challenge.

He thrives in the chase, relishes the moments when he flusters you, sees the subtle changes in your demeanor when he's around. The effect he has on you is very obvious, and it only makes him more determined.

He knows you're not one to fall easily, that you probably need time, need to build some kind of trust in him, to feel that giving him a chance would truly be worth it. And that’s perfectly fine with him.

No matter how long it takes, how many games of flirtation and teasing he has to play, Jungkook is more than willing to keep pursuing you. Because to him, you’re worth every second.

"So, you missed me, huh?" Jungkook teases, leaning effortlessly against the table behind you. His voice is smooth, dripping with that familiar cocky charm that always manages to get under your skin.

You scoff, not daring to let yourself get distracted from your painting. "Not only do you come a full hour late, but now you're wasting time with your stupid flirting." you hiss, turning your head over your shoulder to glare at him, but even that doesn't seem to faze him.

"Oh, please, Ace. Flirting with you is never a waste of time." he replies, the mischievous wink he shoots your way causing your heart to stutter. You groan, frustration bubbling up inside you as your insides twist and turn at his words, the very ones you know are meant to get a rise out of you.

"Why were you late, anyway?" you ask, trying to refocus your attention on the painting. You dip the brush into the water, switching to another color, but your mind is nowhere near your work. There's a gnawing curiosity in the back of your mind... something that feels just a little bit off.

For a moment, there’s no answer. But then, Jungkook's voice breaks the silence, low and a bit too casual. "Just got a little busy... with something." His words hang in the air, and you can’t help but feel that tug of suspicion at your chest. Something? A woman, perhaps?

Jungkook watches you work, eyes tracing your movements with a soft, almost reverent gaze. There's something about the way you carry yourself, so effortlessly graceful as you focus on your art, that makes his heart leap in his chest.

He can’t help it... every angle, every direction you’re in makes you look like something out of a dream, and it drives him absolutely crazy.

"Hey, Ace." he calls out, his voice light, but you don’t look back, still intent on your canvas. You hum in response, not trusting yourself to say anything more.

"I’ve got two tickets to a concert this weekend. Wanna join me? Could be a cute date." The words hang between you like a dare, a challenge. You pause mid-stroke, the brush suddenly halting as if your body has betrayed you.

You’ve heard him ask you out like this before, casually, with that easygoing charm of his. But every time, it leaves you breathless... nervous, excited, and undeniably conflicted.

The idea of going on a date with Jungkook, of letting your guard down and seeing where it could go, is like a dream, but it’s one you can’t seem to step into without hesitation, without feeling scared.

You don’t respond right away, nibbling on your lower lip as your eyes remain fixed on the colorful canvas in front of you, your mind a flurry of emotions you can’t quite make sense of.

"It’s… getting late." you mutter, clearly trying to steer the conversation in another direction, anything to avoid acknowledging the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

Jungkook watches you carefully, his eyes never leaving your face as he observes your subtle shift, your attempt to hide the nerves you always try so hard to control. He can’t help but find it amusing, that cute little fluster of yours. It’s endearing. Hell, it’s the part of you he loves the most.

As you set the brush down and hastily begin to remove your apron, trying to make it seem like you’re just wrapping things up, Jungkook can't stop the grin that spreads across his face.

You're so cute when you’re flustered, so adorably oblivious to the effect you have on him. But that just makes him want to chase you more.

"Hey, I just got here. Leaving already?" Jungkook asks, falling into step with you as you grab your bag and head for the door. You don’t spare him a glance, keeping your eyes forward as you reply, "Well, blame yourself. You came late, and I want to go home now."

He chuckles, his footsteps quickening to catch up with you. "Well, let’s get dinner then." he suggests, his tone light, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. "No." you respond flatly, not even bothering to look at him.

"Alright, what about ice cream?" His grin never falters, the mischievous gleam in his eyes making it clear that he’s not giving up that easily.

You can’t help but feel that warm flutter in your chest despite yourself. It’s something about his persistence, his charm, that always seems to melt away your resolve, even when you’re determined to stay unaffected.

You feel the corners of your lips twitch, a betraying smile threatening to break free, and you try to keep your expression serious. "Also, no." you manage to say, keeping your gaze fixed ahead as you both walk down the long hallway.

"Can I at least walk you to your apartment?" Jungkook asks, the hopeful tone in his voice undeniable. You narrow your eyes, glancing at him with a raised brow. "At this point, will saying "No" even make a difference?" you ask, the teasing edge to your voice not lost on him.

He just smiles wider, as if he knows he’s already won.

The moment you step into the open campus, the late evening breeze brushes against you, cool and refreshing, yet it does little to ease the heat bubbling inside.

As you walk, Jungkook casually falls into step beside you, his presence somehow making the air around you feel warmer.

"So, when are you gonna answer me?" he suddenly asks, his voice playful as you both pass by the soccer field, nearing the gates of the campus.

You know exactly what he's talking about, but you decide to act oblivious. "Answer?" you ask, not daring to glance at him, keeping your gaze ahead as if the question is of no consequence.

"Come on, Ace, you know what I’m talking about." His chuckle is unmistakable, and you feel a nudge on your arm as he inches closer to you.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to stay composed, yet your pace doesn’t falter. "Why me?" you ask, feigning nonchalance. "I’m sure tons of other girls would want to go instead of me."

He pauses, matching your stride as he looks at you with that same confident grin. "But none of those girls are you, so it quite literally doesn't matter." he says simply, and though the words should comfort you, your doubts still creep up.

It’s hard for you to believe him, to fully trust his intentions. Your trust issues keep you cautious, always questioning the sincerity behind every smile and every word.

"Whatever, Jeon. I’m not interested." you reply, trying to steer the conversation away. "Plus, I have a test on Monday."

"Oh, please." he retorts with a teasing glint in his eyes. "I’m pretty sure you’ve already finished studying the entire syllabus and revised at least a thousand times by now. You could use a break."

You can’t help but smile despite yourself. "That’s not true. In fact, I still have an entire chapter left." you answer honestly.

"Just a chapter? Ace, I have the whole syllabus left. You don’t see me stressing, do you?" he grins as the two of you step onto the familiar pavement, cars passing by on the street every now and then.

"You say that like you don’t manage to ace the tests even when you don’t study. You call me Ace, but honestly, I think it’s you." you joke, though there’s truth in your words. Jungkook is effortlessly good at so many things, and that includes academics.

Jungkook grins at the subtle compliment, warmth spreading through his chest. Suddenly, you pull out your phone, scrolling through your notifications. He walks quietly beside you, relishing the simplicity of this moment.

Somehow, just doing mundane things like this with you feels exhilarating... like a high he never wants to come down from. Being near you feels like heaven.

"Wow, Spiderman’s on the news again." you suddenly remark, stumbling upon an article as you scroll through your phone.

At this, Jungkook’s shoulders tense slightly. You’ve never mentioned Spiderman before, and now he doesn’t quite know how to react. He knows you have no idea about his double life, but hearing the name still makes him feel just a little paranoid.

"Oh... really?" he asks, leaning in slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of your screen. "Yeah." you reply, eyes still fixed on the article. "He apparently stopped a bank robbery."

Jungkook sneaks a glance at your face, noting the faint smile tugging at your lips. It tugs at his heart. Then, curiosity gets the better of him.

"What... are your thoughts on him?" he asks carefully. He knows exactly what he’s doing... he’s just a little greedy to know what you think about his alter ego, his other side. You glance up from your phone, eyebrows furrowed. "About Spiderman?"

He nods, his eyes searching yours as you look away, seemingly deep in thought. "Well, you know, a lot of people think he’s in the wrong," he begins, testing the waters.

"They say he’s reckless, breaking laws, making hasty decisions, taking justice into his own hands instead of letting the legal system do its job. So... I was curious... what do you think about that?"

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze distant. "Honestly speaking... I think he’s pretty cool."

Jungkook’s heart races slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, keeping his expression neutral. He assumes that’s all you have to say until you speak again, clearly not finished.

"I understand why people would think that..." you say, your voice softer now as you turn back to him. "But... I think what he does is extraordinary."

His heart skips a beat, though you don’t notice.

"I mean, think about it..." you continue, your voice gaining quiet strength. "He's someone who could use his powers to live an easy, selfish life. He could focus on himself and never worry about anyone else. But instead, he puts himself in danger every single day to protect people he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t have to do any of it, but he chooses to because he believes it’s the right thing to do. That kind of selflessness? It’s rare. And it’s brave."

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat tightening as your words sink in.

"Sure, maybe he doesn’t always follow the rules, but sometimes, doing the right thing means bending them. At the end of the day, he saves lives. And I think that’s what really matters." you finish, a soft smile gracing your lips.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on yours. For a moment, he forgets everything... his fears of being unmasked, his doubts, his double life. All he can think about is you and the way you see him, even without realizing it.

"Yeah..." he finally murmurs, his voice quieter than usual. "I think you’re right." he adds. You give him a curious glance, noticing how moved he seems, but before you can question it, he clears his throat, masking his emotions with a playful grin.

"So... are you saying Spiderman’s your type?" he teases. You narrow your eyes at him, a small laugh escaping your lips. "What kind of question is that?"

He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. "I mean, you just gave this whole heartfelt speech about how selfless and brave he is. Sounds like your dream guy to me."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head in amusement. "Just because I admire what he does doesn’t mean he’s my type. For all we know, Spiderman could be... I don’t know, the kind of guy who puts pineapple on pizza."

Jungkook gasps, clutching his chest in mock horror. "Whoa, hold on. Pineapple on pizza is elite. Are you saying Spiderman’s taste might actually disqualify him?"

"Exactly." you reply with a teasing grin. "Hero or not, some things are just dealbreakers." you shrug, giggling. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Seriously what's wrong with pineapple on pizza?"

"Everything." you reply with a smirk. "But anyways... he might not even be my age or someone I could actually hold a conversation with. Just because someone’s a hero doesn’t mean we’d click, you know?" you add, returning back to the conversation.

"Fair point." Jungkook concedes, though his smirk doesn’t falter. "But let’s just say, hypothetically, Spiderman showed up right now, unmasked, and he was your age, charming, and funny. Would you give him a chance?"

You bite your lip and narrow your eyes, pretending to think about it. "Hypothetically?" you ask. He nods, leaning in slightly, as if your answer means more to him than he’s letting on.

"Maybe." you admit with a small smile. "But only if he’s not cocky about it." you say. Jungkook chuckles, looking ahead as you both continue walking. "Noted." he says softly, the faintest hint of relief in his tone.

The walk towards your apartment continues, his playful flirtations refusing to take a pause. At one point, he casually takes your hand while crossing the road, and somehow, you don’t pull away.

Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s hosting a full-on festival in his chest, but he works super hard to play it cool, hoping you don’t suddenly get self-conscious and snatch your hand back.

As your apartment building comes into view, he feels an ache in his chest. He doesn’t want this to end. These little moments, these stolen evenings when he manages to walk you home, are everything to him. He treasures them more than you’ll ever know.

When you finally stop outside your building, you turn to him, flashing him a soft smile. "Thanks for walking me home, Jeon." you say, your voice warm but casual. That’s when you realize your hands are still intertwined... so naturally, so deeply.

You can feel his thumb lightly brushing against yours, and though you’re hyperaware of it, you don’t pull away. It feels too… right. Hopefully, he doesn’t hold this against you later and claim you're like... madly in love with him or something.

Jungkook looks at you, and there’s a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. He clearly doesn’t want to let go. "Well then... I’ll see you tomorrow?" he asks, his voice almost hopeful. You nod, smiling back at him.

You think he'll let go of your hand first but somehow, neither of you move. The world around seems to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there in the golden glow of the streetlights. Seconds tick by in silence before he speaks again.

"Ace, think about that concert date, okay? I really... really want to go with you." His voice is soft, but the weight of his sincerity makes your heart feel unsteady, as if it might tip over any second.

You let out a quiet sigh, your gaze dropping to the pavement. You want to say yes. You really want to say yes. But that familiar paranoia, that nagging voice in the back of your mind, refuses to loosen its grip. It holds you back, whispering doubts you can’t quite silence.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your brows knit together, the subtle hesitation in your posture. He notices how your fingers unconsciously tighten against his, as if reflecting the weight of the thoughts racing through your mind.

But then, like an unwelcome intruder, a sound cuts through the quiet night... the faint, distant wail of a siren. His focus shifts instantly, and he knows what it means. Somewhere in the city, someone needs him.

The conflict in his chest is palpable. He doesn’t want this moment to end, this fleeting bubble of time where it’s just the two of you, but the sense of duty outweighs his desires.

Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand, his fingers brushing yours one last time, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle. He offers you a small, almost apologetic smile. "Sleep on it and let me know tomorrow, okay?" he says, stepping back.

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s already grinning, that playful, heart-melting grin that always leaves you breathless. "Goodnight, Ace. I’ll miss you until tomorrow."

And just like that, before you can even think of what to say, he’s jogging off, the rhythm of his steps fading into the night. You stand there, rooted in place, staring after him as he turns the corner near your apartment.

The words you wanted to say hang in your throat, unspoken. Something inside you stirs... a flicker of impulse, and you instantly feel the undying need to call out to him, to stop him, to at least reassure him that this time… you would truly think about it.

You find yourself taking a step forward towards the corner of your building, your feet carrying you towards the direction he ran. You peer into the dimly lit alley that stretches endlessly ahead, the streetlights casting long, faint shadows. But to your surprise, Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

You blink, your brows furrowing. The stretch of road is empty, eerily quiet except for the distant hum of the city. It’s as if he’s vanished into thin air. You linger there for a moment, the cool night air brushing against your skin, and you wonder with a small, bemused smile...

Just how fast can Jungkook run?

Your pen moves swiftly across the page, the sound of it scratching against paper blending with the hum of the classroom around you. You’re fully immersed in Mr. Choi's lecture, absorbing every word with precision.

While everyone else around you is still shaking off the fog of sleep, struggling to find their rhythm, you’re deep in the flow, your thoughts sharp and disciplined. The lecture hall, with its rows of slumped, half-conscious students, seems like a distant world to you, as if you’re the only one who’s truly awake.

Suddenly, the smooth cadence of Mr. Choi’s voice falters, interrupted by the abrupt sound of a door creaking open. “Late again, Mr. Jeon?” Mr. Choi’s voice is laced with the usual mix of amusement and annoyance as his eyes narrow in mock disapproval at the figure standing at the doorway.

Of course, he's late. Jeon Jungkook is always late.

You lift your gaze, your focus momentarily broken, and you catch the playful, almost apologetic bow he gives Mr. Choi before he makes his way through the aisles.

With practiced ease, he navigates his way through the rows, his presence so familiar, so effortless, that it feels almost like the room adjusts itself to accommodate his presence.

And just as always, his eyes find yours, as if drawn by some invisible thread, and a mischievous smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. He gives you a wink, subtle but unmistakable, before he settles into the seat right behind you.

“Good morning, Ace.” he whispers, the soft murmur of his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the lecture hall. You hear the faint shuffle of his bag as he slides into his seat and despite yourself, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

You fight it, focusing back down at your notebook, your fingers still gripped tightly around the pen.

Soon enough, the lecture wraps up, and Mr. Choi gathers his things, his footsteps echoing through the quiet room as he exits. As you stand to pack your bag, your eyes naturally drift towards Jungkook, who is already in the process of putting his belongings together.

You don’t say anything at first, the familiar rhythm of his presence next to you doesn’t need words. But just as you turn to head down the steep stairs of the lecture hall, you feel his arm slip around your waist with that effortless familiarity.

“Hi.” he greets, his voice low, the sound of it so casual yet intimate. It’s not the first time he’s done this. In fact, it’s something he’s done countless times before, despite the many times you’ve asked him to stop.

Not because you dislike it... even though you tell yourself to, you just can't, not when his touch feels so natural, so right... but because of the unwanted attention it draws. The way all eyes seem to latch onto the simple act of him holding you close.

“Heading to the cafeteria ??” he asks, turning his head to meet your eyes, his expression full of that unshakable playfulness that always makes your heart beat a little faster.

You carefully reach for his wrist, gently peeling it away from your waist, the skin beneath your fingers suddenly tingling with warmth. You step a little further from him, trying to steady the swirl of emotions coursing through you.

God, why does the touch of his skin against yours make your insides feel like jelly? The warmth of his hand lingers, even though he's already let go, and it makes your chest tighten with something you can’t quite place.

“Yes.” you manage to answer, keeping your tone steady despite the storm brewing within you. You turn back towards the stairs, forcing yourself to walk at a pace that’s somehow slower than usual.

But, as always, Jungkook follows. He trails behind you like a puppy, each of his footsteps matching yours, and you can feel the weight of his attention even without looking at him.

He just can’t help it. His devotion to you is palpable, an invisible thread that binds him to you in the quietest, most powerful of ways.

There’s something so deeply affectionate in the way he always tries to be around you, so undeniably tender in the way he never lets you go, even when you don’t always ask for it.

Once you step into the bustling cafeteria, the scent of freshly made food fills the air, making your stomach grumble despite just having a light breakfast. Jungkook, ever observant, glances around before turning to you with that signature playful smile of his.

"Why don’t you go ahead and sit over there?" he suggests, pointing at an empty table tucked in the corner near the windows. "I’ll grab your strawberry milk and—" He pauses, eyes scanning the cafeteria for something. "Maybe that pastry you like too."

You smile softly at his attentiveness, nodding in agreement as you part ways and walk towards the table. As soon as you sit down, the familiar warmth of the cafeteria wraps around you, and just as quickly, two figures approach your table.

"Hey, Y/n !!" Soomin’s voice cuts through the air, bright and infectious. Yeji follows closely behind her, her smile just as warm. They’re two of your closest friends from university, and you share quite a few classes with them, making their presence all the more comforting.

You smile and wave them over, the three of you exchanging greetings as they take their seats across from you.

"God, I have a test at two, and I’m so unprepared." Soomin groans, flopping her head onto the table. Yeji chuckles beside her, clearly used to Soomin’s antics. You let out a soft laugh, reaching across the table to pat Soomin’s hand reassuringly. "You’ll do fine, don’t worry. You always do."

Soomin groans even louder, but it’s clear she appreciates the reassurance. "Did you have a morning class?" Yeji asks, taking a bite of her sandwich as she looks at you with curiosity. You nod. "Yeah, Mr. Choi’s lecture." you reply.

"Ah, Mr. Choi..." Soomin says, nodding knowingly and soon enough she's slipping into casual conversation with Yeji as you listen, comfortably sinking into the rhythm of the discussion.

Amidst their chatter, your attention shifts to the far side of the cafeteria behind Soomin and Yeji. You spot Jungkook, navigating through the crowd with ease, a tray of food balanced carefully in his hands.

On the tray, you can already see the familiar strawberry milk and your favorite snack from the cafeteria... things he’s memorized with startling precision. It makes you smile without thinking.

He’s always so thoughtful, remembering even the smallest details about what you like to eat. And though you’ve always tried to resist letting him fetch your food, his determination, combined with how cute he looks doing it... eventually won you over. Now, you just sit back and let him.

Soomin, ever the observant one, notices your gaze and follows the path your eyes are tracing. She turns her head to look over her shoulder and spots Jungkook making his way towards you, a grin spreading across her face as she leans closer.

"Oh, so you're here waiting for 'loverboy' as usual." she teases. You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. "Oh, come on. He’s not my loverboy." you say, trying to dismiss her comment, though there’s a warmth that creeps into your voice that betrays your calm demeanor.

"Here she goes again." Yeji laughs, shaking her head knowingly. "You always say that, and yet he’s never not by your side." she adds, her voice full of amusement.

You look down at your lap, suddenly shy under the weight of their teasing. "He’s just… a good friend." you mumble, though deep down, you know the truth... Jungkook is just so much more than that.

"Hey, guys." Jungkook says, his voice easy and casual as he approaches the table, unaware of the playful conversation that had just taken place.

He flashes a grin at Yeji and Soomin before placing the tray of food in front of you, his movements natural and fluid as he takes a seat right beside you. They greet him cheerfully, and once you begin eating, the topic shifts seamlessly.

"Guys, oh my god, did you see the news yesterday? Spiderman stopped a bank robbery!! He looked so cool doing it." Yeji exclaims, eyes wide with excitemen.

Jungkook hides a grin behind his hand, amused by their enthusiasm, while Soomin jumps in, agreeing wholeheartedly. "He's sooo hot, oh my god." she says, her tone filled with admiration.

You chuckle at their exaggerated reactions, and Jungkook's gaze flickers to you. There's a warmth in his eyes, something deeper than before.

Ever since last night, when he discovered how you truly feel about his alter ego, his feelings for you have intensified. It’s as though a switch has been flipped, and what he feels now is so much more than before... more profound, more intense.

"I so badly want to see his face." Yeji continues, her voice dripping with longing as she playfully covers her mouth with her hands. "Like, think about the amount of handsomeness he's gatekeeping from the world under that mask." She giggles, the thought clearly thrilling her.

Jungkook can't help but smirk at the conversation, his heart thumping a little faster as his eyes linger on you. He wonders, with a hint of curiosity and something more, how you would react if you ever found out who he truly is.

Once you're ready to head to your next class, you bid your goodbyes to Soomin and Yeji, making your way out of the cafeteria. Unfortunately, this is one of those rare moments when you don’t share a class with Jungkook, but, as always, he insists on walking you all the way there.

The walk towards the classroom is filled with silence, the only sound being the soft shuffle of your steps and the occasional hum of distant conversations. Jungkook walks beside you, that familiar, easy smile still on his face, while you're trapped within your own mind, battling the conflicting emotions swirling inside you.

Each day, it becomes harder to ignore the growing pull towards him. You’ve always been able to keep your feelings at bay, but lately, every moment with him feels like a thread tightening around your heart.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop pushing him away. You’ve been fooling yourself, trying to deny what’s so obvious now. There’s something real here, something deeper than you ever let yourself admit.

The small things he does for you... the way he remembers the smallest preferences, the subtle gestures that show how much he cares... these are not signs of a passing flirtation.

Probably Jungkook isn’t playing games. His kindness, his attentiveness, it all feels genuine, too sincere to be anything else. Could it be possible that he’s been this dedicated all this time because what he feels for you is actually something real?

“I’ll catch you after class, Ace?” his voice breaks through the storm of your thoughts, and you suddenly realize that you've reached your classroom. You look at him, meeting his gaze, and see that same, unshakable smile. You nod, offering him a small smile in return.

“Okay then...” he trails off before playfully saluting you with a grin and turning on his heels, ready to head to his own class. But as he starts walking away, something shifts in you.

You feel the weight of everything you've been holding back for so long... the hesitation, the reluctance, the fear and suddenly, it becomes too much to bear. In that moment, you realize you can’t do it anymore. You can’t keep holding back.

“Wait !!” you call out before you even realize what you’re doing. Jungkook stops in his tracks, turning around to face you with wide eyes. He’s standing a few feet away now, the hallway suddenly feeling too quiet, too still, save for the distant murmurs from the nearby classrooms.

“What’s up, Ace? All good?” he asks, stepping closer. You swallow hard, locking eyes with him, your gaze steady, conveying an unspoken determination to finally unpack everything you’ve been feeling.

There's no going back from this. No more hiding, no more second-guessing. You’ve wrestled with your doubts long enough, and now, it’s time to be honest with yourself... honest with him.

“What time are we meeting at the concert venue?”

You gaze at your reflection, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You’re about to do the unimaginable... finally giving Jungkook a chance. A chance to take you out, to show you a good time.

Your mind drifts back to his reaction when you finally gave in.

He had been so shocked, his happiness so genuine that he couldn’t contain himself. He had practically swept you off your feet, spinning you around in excitement, his cheers echoing so loudly that even the professors in neighboring classrooms had peeked out to see what the commotion was all about.

Smiling at the memory, you grab your bag, running your eyes over your reflection one last time. Everything feels perfect... just the way you imagined it would be.

It's about 6, and the concert is set to start at 6:30pm. Jungkook had suggested that he'd meet you outside the venue at 6:15pm and after the concert, he’d take you out for dinner and then walk you back home.

It’s simple, but honestly, it’s perfect for you. Though giving in to him was a difficult choice, the excitement building within you now makes it all worth it. You can’t wait to see where this night takes you, to finally spend time with him in a way you’ve always wanted.

You take a cab, and before you know it, you arrive at the concert venue. The place is alive with energy, bustling with fans, people roaming around holding posters and chatting excitedly. You wait near the entrance, a smile fixed on your face, your heart racing with anticipation.

He should be here any minute now, and the mere thought of him sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You glance at your phone, the time flashing in front of you— 6:21 p.m.

He’ll probably be here soon, and since Jungkook has a reputation for always showing up late, you decide to give him some extra time... after all, you're nice like that.

You remain in the same spot, eyes fixed on the entrance, watching the crowd shuffle by as people get their tickets verified and enter the venue. Each person who passes by only adds to the knot in your stomach. You try to stay calm, hoping that any second now, you’ll see Jungkook running towards you with that bright smile of his.

But somehow, that moment never comes. You keep glancing at your phone, the seconds creeping by. 6:25... 6:27... 6:32...

And then, before you realize it, you're standing alone near the entrance. The crowd has long since filtered inside, and you’re left in the growing emptiness.

The guards, noticing your solitude, kindly inform you that the concert is about to start. You force a smile, awkwardly explaining that you’re waiting for a friend who’s bringing the tickets.

You cross your arms, a sense of vulnerability washing over you as you realize how small you feel in this vast sea of people who have already moved on with their evening. Another glance at your phone—6:45pm.

He’s still not here. Maybe it’s time to call him.

But of course, as if the universe itself has conspired against you, the call goes straight to voicemail. You try again. Same result. A wave of frustration builds in your chest, mixing with a strange sense of abandonment.

By the time it hits 7:00, impatience starts to bleed into worry. You expected him to be late, but not... this late. The music from inside the venue filters through the walls, a distant reminder of what you should be experiencing right now, with him.

Instead, you're left standing outside, alone, while the night continues without you. The excitement that had once bubbled within you now feels hollow, replaced by an uncomfortable sense of being left behind. You were supposed to be inside, enjoying the concert with him, not stranded here like some forgotten afterthought.

You find a nearby bench and sink onto it, feeling the weight of your own exhaustion pulling you down. The night has already taken a turn you never imagined, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to leave.

Something inside you clings to the hope that he might show up, even though deep down, you know the truth. Still, you force yourself to stay, to wait, just in case.

But time drags on. 8:00 p.m. passes in a blur, and then 8:45 p.m. follows soon after. He's still not here. The longer you sit there, the more the crushing weight of your emotions presses down on you. It’s like something inside you is slowly breaking apart, unraveling piece by piece.

Your chest tightens, and you feel nauseous... not from the food you didn’t get to eat, but from the overwhelming wave of hurt that seems to take over every inch of your body.

You've lost count of how many times you've called him. At first, it was in the hope that maybe something came up, maybe he just needed a minute. But after the countless unanswered calls, the realization hits you like a freight train... Jungkook had stood you up.

And it stings more than you ever imagined it could.

By the time it’s 9:36 p.m., you finally notice the crowd emerging from the concert venue. They all look so happy, so full of life, with bright smiles and hazy eyes, as if the night was everything they hoped it would be.

But for you? It’s like everything had shattered. The sharp contrast between their joy and your deep, empty ache is enough to make your heart feel hollow.

You feel like a fool. All this time, you were waiting for someone who never showed up, for someone who clearly didn’t value your time or your feelings.

With your head down, you begin to follow the crowd out of the venue. You don’t make eye contact with anyone... you don’t want them to see the quiet hurt written all over your face. All you can do is walk, every step heavier than the last, as you try to hold yourself together.

As you walk further and further from the concert venue, the quiet of the night wraps around you like a cold, suffocating blanket. The hum of the city feels distant, the bustling crowd now far behind you.

And with that silence, a single tear escapes your eye, trickling down your cheek. You quickly sniffle, wiping it away, furious at yourself for letting it fall. This... this is exactly why you were so paranoid, so hesitant in the first place. You were scared of this. Scared of letting someone in, only to be left standing alone.

Your vision blurs with the mix of emotions swirling inside, but you force yourself to look up at the sky, willing your tears to stop, praying they won’t fall anymore.

With a shaky breath, you pull out your phone, desperate to distract yourself. Your thumb scrolls aimlessly through the screen, trying to avoid the thoughts that threaten to consume you. But then, the latest news catches your eye.

"Spiderman Rescues Family from Burning Building"

The headline stands out among the others, and for a moment, you're frozen. You scroll further, reading more articles, hoping the news will help you forget the mess of your own emotions.

"Spiderman Dashes into Fiery Inferno to Save Trapped Children" "Masked Vigilante in Action: Spiderman Saves Dozens from the unexpected fire."

But as you read the headlines, a deep sense of irony gnaws at you.

Well, at least this Spiderman guy was showing up on time to save people’s lives, you think bitterly to yourself. Here’s someone who doesn’t make excuses, someone who actually follows through with what he promises.

And then there's Jungkook. The one who had practically begged you for a chance to take you out, only to leave you waiting, completely abandoned and alone.

You're so engrossed in the article you're reading that the world around you begins to blur. The flashing images of Spiderman saving lives seem to temporarily distract you from the sinking pit in your stomach.

But as you continue to scroll, an unsettling shift in the atmosphere pulls you from your thoughts. You suddenly realize the alley you're walking through has grown eerily quiet. The bustling sounds of the city seem to fade into nothingness, replaced by an unnerving stillness that sends a chill down your spine.

Just as you register the ominous change in your surroundings, an unfamiliar voice cuts through the silence. "Well, well, well... What do we have here?" The words drip with malice, each syllable sending a shiver down your spine. You snap your head around, your heart immediately leaping into your throat.

There, standing in the shadows, is a group of four men. Their eyes are fixed on you, their smiles twisted into something dark and predatory.

A sharp intake of breath escapes your lips as your pulse quickens, and instinctively, you step back, your feet heavy and uncooperative. Your mind screams at you to run, but your legs feel weak, as though they’re unwilling to obey.

The cold air around you seems to freeze, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You curse yourself silently, realizing too late how foolish it was to carelessly venture into this alley... one that looks too shady, too quiet, too dangerous.

"Don’t be scared, sweetheart." one of the men says, his grin widening, his teeth glinting under the bright moonlight. His voice drips with cruel amusement, and the other three step forward, the sound of their footsteps sending a tremor through your already fragile composure.

Your body instinctively takes another step back, but the weight of their gaze pins you in place. Every instinct in your body screams at you to run, to escape, to get away... but the terror coursing through you is paralyzing.

You can't think. You can't move. The fear is suffocating, and you're trapped under their gaze, unable to do anything but stand there, frozen.

"We just wanna have fun, beautiful." the same man calls out again, his voice a twisted mockery of sweetness. The words slither in the air, sending a rush of panic through your chest.

Your breathing grows erratic, shallow, as the weight of their intentions becomes painfully clear. You can feel the blood in your veins turning cold as your fight-or-flight instincts surge to life.

In an instant, it's as if a fog has cleared, and your body reacts before your mind even registers. You whirl around and start running, your feet pounding against the rough ground.

Your heart races, the beat hammering in your ears, the only sound louder than your frantic footsteps is the deafening laughter of the men right behind you as they mercilessly chase after you.

It’s as if they thrive on your fear. The sound of their boots slapping the ground echoes in the alley, relentless and close, sending a fresh wave of terror surging through you.

This alley is like a maze to you, completely unfamiliar, and the more you run, the more hopeless it feels. You don’t know where you’re going... just hoping for some miracle, some escape.

Every turn you take feels like you’re running deeper into the trap, their laughter reverberating around you, a sickening reminder of how far out of your control this has gone.

Tears spill down your face now, hot and stinging, mixing with the fear clawing at your chest. You just wanted a normal night, a fun time, a simple date. Instead, you're running for your life, your every breath coming out in ragged gasps.

This was the worst possible turn of events, and you absolutely hate it.

In the chaos, your foot catches on something, your ankle twisting painfully as you lose your balance. You don’t have time to react, your body toppling forward as the ground comes up to meet you.

A sickening scrape sounds as your knee crashes against the rough, jagged concrete, the sharp sting of pain shooting through your leg.

For a split second, everything is frozen... your breath caught in your throat, your body sprawled on the ground, knees scraped and bloody. The echoes of the familiar laughter seem to grow louder, nearer, filling the space around you like a nightmare you can't wake from.

And just like that, the men close the distance, their boots stopping mere inches from you as they loom over your crumpled form. Their smirks are triumphant, twisted with a sense of sick satisfaction, as though they've already won whatever vile game they’re playing.

"You shouldn't have ran like that, princess." the leader sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. He tilts his head, staring down at you as if you’re a pathetic little thing he’s cornered.

"Look at you... all scraped up and trembling. Such a shame." His words slither through the air, making your skin crawl.

You’re shaking uncontrollably now, your hands bracing against the cold, rough ground as you instinctively push yourself back, desperate to create even a shred of distance. But they move forward with you, step by step, their shadows stretching over you like a suffocating shroud.

"Please..." The word falls from your lips, broken and barely audible, a breathless whisper of desperation. Your tears blur your vision as they keep streaming, unchecked and unending. "Please leave me alone..." you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear.

One of them chuckles darkly as he strides closer. "Oh, we will, darling." he says, his grin widening with something cruel and sinister. He crouches down, his knees cracking slightly as he brings himself eye-level with you.

The proximity makes your breath hitch. "But not so soon." he says, his smile is razor-sharp, the kind that makes your stomach churn.

"Look at you..." he murmurs, his voice low and taunting. Slowly, he raises a hand, the movement making you flinch violently. But it doesn’t stop him. He drags the back of his knuckles down your cheek, his touch slow and burning, like he’s savoring your helplessness.

You gasp, the air caught in your lungs as you jerk your head back, straining to pull away. "Don’t be shy..." he coos, leaning closer, his breath fanning your face.

The metallic tang of your scraped knee mixes with the acrid stench of sweat and smoke clinging to him, making you feel even more nauseous.

You try to glance over his shoulder, frantically scanning for someone... anyone, to come to your rescue. Your heart pounds as your eyes dart around, searching for an escape route that doesn’t exist.

The moon shines bright tonight, illuminating the men’s devilish smirks, making their expressions even more menacing. As the man’s hand inches closer to your face, the air behind the gang seems to shift, a subtle disturbance that pulls your focus.

Your breath hitches, and your tear-filled eyes widen as you catch a clear sight of a figure descending through the air... a silhouette both strikingly familiar and entirely surreal.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, a sharp, wet squelching sound cuts through the tense air.

The man crouched in front of you lets out a muffled yell, his voice quickly stifled as sticky, glistening webbing splatters against the back of his head and encases his entire face.

He stumbles back, clawing at his face, but the more he struggles, the tighter the strands seem to stick.

You gasp, frozen in place, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sudden movement has drawn the attention of the other three men, and they whirl around, their shock evident as they come face-to-face with the figure that has just landed, only a few feet away.

Their expressions twist into disbelief, and one of them stammers. “Is... is... th-that... is that...S-Spi... Spiderman?”

The name reverberates in your mind, almost surreal. You blink, still trying to make sense of the situation. Was this really happening right now?

The man at your feet continues writhing, desperate to peel the webbing from his face, but your focus shifts. Spiderman doesn’t give the others a chance to react.

With a swift, effortless motion, he launches himself into the air, his body moving with a fluidity and precision that you’ve only ever seen in the numerous viral clips circulating on social media.

Before the nearest thug can draw his weapon, Spiderman swings low, his legs extended, catching the man square in the chest. The force sends him sprawling backward, crashing into a stack of crates that splinter on impact.

The remaining two men shout in alarm, their bravado crumbling as they scramble for some semblance of control. Spiderman doesn’t stop. Launching himself onto the wall of the alley, he runs along its surface, the soles of his boots clinging effortlessly.

He shoots another web, snagging a metal trash can, and hurls it with precision. It connects with the second thug’s hand, sending a knife skittering across the pavement. The man yelps, clutching his wrist, but before he can retreat, Spiderman flips through the air, landing right in front of him.

A quick jab followed by a sweep of his leg sends the man crumpling to the ground.

The final thug, now trembling, looks between his fallen companions and Spiderman. “I... I don’t want any trouble!” he shouts, raising his hands.

“Oh, you’ve got plenty of trouble.” Spiderman retorts, his voice calm but laced with authority. With a flick of his wrist, another web shoots out, pinning the man’s arms to his sides. He stumbles back, stuck against the brick wall, writhing futilely.

You sit frozen on the cold ground, unable to look away as Spiderman surveys the scene. His movements are controlled, efficient, as if this is just another routine patrol.

Finally, he turns towards you, his masked gaze locking onto yours. Though his eyes are hidden behind the opaque lenses of his mask, the slight tilt of his head exudes concern. He doesn’t say a word, just quietly observes you, or at least that’s what you assume he’s doing.

With slow steps, he moves closer, crouching down in front of you. Yet, unlike the men who had terrified you moments ago, his presence doesn’t evoke fear. Strangely, you feel a sense of safety. Your breathing remains uneven as you stare at him, catching a fragmented reflection of yourself in the glossy eyes of his mask.

“Thank… thank you.” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling.

He doesn’t reply. Instead, his hand moves hesitantly, almost unsure, before brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture is gentle, and for a fleeting moment, it feels oddly familiar... like a memory or a déjà vu you can’t quite place.

But your mind is too frazzled, too overwhelmed to make sense of it.

Still silent, he rises to his full height and extends his hand towards you. The gesture is simple yet reassuring, his gloved palm outstretched as if to say, Trust me.

You hesitate for a second, searching his masked face for answers you know you won’t get, but eventually, you place your trembling hand in his.

With a careful tug, he helps you to your feet. The moment you shift your weight, however, a sharp pain shoots through your leg, and you let out a small yelp, nearly losing your balance.

Instinctively, his other hand settles around your waist, steady and reassuring, as if he anticipated your faltering step. The contact is firm yet gentle, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

He pulls you closer, his presence commanding yet calming, and guides your arms around his shoulder.

“Hold on tight.” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet reassurance that leaves no room for doubt. You blink, startled, still trying to piece together what he’s about to do.

Before you can even question him, he raises his free hand, aiming it with precision. A sharp thwip cuts through the air as a strand of web shoots out, latching onto the edge of a distant building.

And then, with a sudden jolt, you’re airborne.

A gasp escapes your lips as the ground disappears beneath you. Instinctively, your grip tightens around him, your fingers clutching at his suit as if your life depends on it. Well in this case, it does actually.

The rush of wind tears through your hair, and your heart pounds in your chest as he swings effortlessly between the towering buildings.

Despite your initial panic, his hold around your waist is unwavering and firm like he's silently assuring you that he won't let you go, won't let you fall.

It’s surreal... the way he moves with such fluidity, his motions precise and calculated, almost as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Each swing feels like a dance between gravity and defiance, the world blurring around you as he carries you through the cityscape.

Before you can fully process the ride, he lands with practiced precision on the pavement outside your apartment building.

The abrupt shift from soaring through the air to solid ground leaves you momentarily disoriented. You exhale shakily, your heart pounding relentlessly from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

His hands release their steady grip on your waist, but he doesn’t immediately step back. Instead, he lingers, watching you closely, as though ensuring you won’t falter.

Your fingers are still clutching at his suit, a reflexive hold from the chaotic blur of moments before. It takes a few seconds before you register that you’re safe, your mind catching up to the fact that you were literally flying just moments ago.

That was, without a doubt, the most insane thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

Finally, your gaze drifts away from him, focusing instead on the familiar outline of your apartment building. The normalcy of it feels almost jarring after the surreal turn your evening has taken.

You take a cautious step forward, putting some distance between you and the masked hero as you try to untangle the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

How did Spiderman know where you lived? Did superheroes have some kind of uncanny ability to figure out people’s addresses? Or was it just a lucky guess? The absurdity of the question makes you pause mid-step, your mind scrambling for some kind of explanation.

You turn around to face him again, your thoughts still a jumble. "How... how did you know where I—"

But before you can even finish, the familiar thwip slices through the quiet night. Your words falter as you watch him propel into the sky, his silhouette a fleeting shadow against the dim glow of the city.

He’s gone. Just like that. Swinging effortlessly through the labyrinth of buildings, leaving you rooted to the spot, your unfinished question dissolving into the stillness around you.

Maybe he was in a rush... he’s a superhero, after all. People probably needed him more than you did now. But the thought doesn’t soothe the ache of unfinished gratitude sitting in your chest.

You didn’t even get to thank him properly... for saving your life, for pulling you out of the nightmare of that alley, and for bringing you home safely.

The faint echo of his departure lingers, merging with the soft hum of the night, as does the strange medley of emotions swirling within you.

Gratitude and confusion take the forefront, but there’s something else, something deeper and unnameable, tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You glance up at the sky where he disappeared, your heart heavier than it was just moments ago. A superhero had saved you, yet all you can think about is how familiar something about him felt... and how impossibly far away he seemed now.

part 2 ->

check out-> drabble 1; the one with the damn suit

my masterlist <3