#originally this was supposed to be a drabble but I just got mentally stuck trying to write it

[lavenoon]

Accidentally Undercover - Happy New Year <3

Just want to say thank you to all of you, you've made this year so much fun and so incredibly memorizing for me, I haven't been this motivated to share my ideas in ages, if ever - not to mention the sheer inspiration I get from so many incredible people in this fandom. I love this space and I am so very happy I was welcomed so warmly. Here's to another year full of shared enjoyment for all of us <3

And also have some kiss close-ups hehe:

[crowandmousewritingco]

Facing The Monster Head On (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x trans! actor!reader

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG-13, there's no spicy scenes. Implied that you thought of them though

Summary: You’re the co-star of an upcoming movie, Cliff Beasts 6. You’re starring next to the -questionable- star, Dieter Bravo. Shooting the scenes was the easy part. The not-so-easy part however? Dieter's habits

Author: Mod Crow (I know it's been awhile)

Author's Note: The reader says their age. This was originally supposed to be a short little drabble for @thepromptfoundry's July prompt list. However, I may have gotten a bit carried away while writing. The prompt number for this fic (and the next part) is 10, 'Invisible Disability'. I chose one that I am intimately familiar with, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

Info on PTSD here

Masterlist || Part 2

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, hints at rated-R thoughts, hints at drugs, drug use, addiction, and death of a parent

You had worked on a film set before, you were used to lights and procedures that happened both on and off camera. What you weren’t used to -at least not yet- was the two week-long isolation before you could even really meet your co-stars. Thankfully, yesterday was the last day of the two-week isolation and today you could finally meet the others. 

As you made your way to the full-body mirror, you thought over your mental checklist, ‘Phone? Check. Bag? By the door. Mask?’ Once in front of the mirror you patted your pockets in an attempt to find your pocket, “Check.” Looking at yourself in the mirror you took a deep breath to help calm your racing heart. Normally filming didn’t make you nervous, that’s not what was making your pulse pound. It wasn’t even the pandemic at this point. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that this is your first Hollywood made movie. No, it was the idea of meeting your co-stars, well more like one in particular. Dieter Bravo. THE Dieter Bravo. The same Dieter Bravo who you’ve had a massive crush on for the last five years. Dieter fucking Bravo is your co-worker, he’s someone who you now have to act completely normal around.

Shaking the thoughts from your head you looked over yourself in the mirror, “You got this.” Turning from the mirror, you grabbed your bag, and headed out to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking down the hotel’s halls, you could hear the muffle murmuring of the others. As you neared the sound of voices, you felt your heart pick up. Stopping you close your eyes and take a couple of breaths.

“Hello, are you okay?” You turned towards the surprise flamboyant accented voice.

“Yeah, sorry. Just trying to…” You gesture to yourself, “Gather myself I guess.” You half heartedly chuckled at your own comment. 

Studying the taller man’s face, you could tell he was trying to figure out how to help. Before he had a chance, you stuck your hand out and offered him your name. Feeling him take your hand, you softly smiled. 

“I’m Gunther. I’m a safety officer, gotta make sure everything is done right and safe.” You watched as Gunther glanced around you, “Are you going to the bar where the rest of them are?”

Nodding, you cleared your throat, “Yeah,” You turned to look towards the open doors, turning back to Gunther you smiled, “Well it was nice to meet you Gunther.”

Closing the distance between you and the cacophony of voices you took a few more calming breaths. Walking into the room you looked around, you recognized pretty much everyone in the room. The only two you didn’t recognize were two younger looking girls, the blonde looked both unhappy and uncomfortable in the room and the brunette seemed to be thriving around all the attention.

Scoffing about the younger brunette you made your way to the mini bar counter, placing your elbows on the counter. Looking over the available alcohols you looked to the worker behind the bar.

“Excuse me,” You watched as they turned their attention to you. Without talking, they were able to convey the question, ‘What can I get you to drink?’ You stared at the worker’s face for a moment, “Oh! Vodka cranberry please.” Watching the bartender make your drink, you were unaware of the approaching person.

“Who are you? Production team? PR?” Hearing the unexpected voice caused you to jump slightly. Whipping your face towards the voice. Seeing who it was, you could feel your stomach tighten.

“I probably don’t have to introduce myself, but you’re old. So,” Watching the brunette stick her hand out, “I’m Krystal Kris, but just call me Krystal. I have over 120 million followers on something called TikTok. You, you do know what that is right?” You reluctantly took her hand and introduced yourself.

“Yes I know what TikTok is, I’m not even that old. I’m twenty-five.” Hearing a clink of glass on the bar top, you turned toward it. Picking up the glass you said a soft ‘thank you’ to the bartender. Turning back to face Krystal, you offered a more artificial smile.

“Look, it was great to meet you Krystal. But I’m going to hang out with the adults, why don’t you go back to that blonde girl over there, you two seemed like friends.” Walking past her, you take a sip of your drink, the tartness of the cranberry juice making you take a moment before your second sip. Standing there, taking another drink, you looked at the little groups that had formed.

As you stood there, looking over the groups, you thought to yourself. ‘I could just rip the band aid off and go introduce myself,’ You stopped scanning the room, your eyes stopping on Dieter. You knew all of the Hollywood drama that this man has stirred, drunk on set, high -on various types of drugs- on set, a handful of instances of disorderly conduct, and so forth; that however, didn’t change the fact that he made your heart race, your palms go sweaty, and caused your brain to start imagining some…not so PG-13 activities.

Shaking yourself from your brain you found that your eyes were still glued to Dieter, and now his eyes were glued to you. Feeling your face warm you turned on your heel once more. As you neared the bar, you downed the rest of your drink and gently sat the glass on the bar top, “Have a good night.” You murmured softly to the bartender as you made your way to the hallway once more. 

Pushing through the doors you noticed that it was empty, no hotel workers, no film crew. Just you and the feel of Dieter’s eyes still on you, was he staring because he caught you staring or could he have… 

“No. Nope. Not letting those thoughts even enter.” You softly said to yourself as you heard the doors behind you close. Stopping your feet, you looked around the hall, the emptiness of the halls a little unnerving. If the eerie emptiness wasn’t enough, the sound of the doors behind you  opened almost made you jump out of your skin.

“Excuse me?” You didn’t need to turn to recognize that voice, Dieter Bravo. Still facing away you wiped your palms on your pants. Clearing your throat you turned to face him. Noticing how close he was almost made you take a step back, but you will yourself not to move. 

“Can I help you?” As you stood there, mere feet away from Dieter, you took in his features. His actual, unedited features. The first thing you noticed about him was his eyes. In films and red carpet events he always looks so lively and happy. But in person? In person you could see the exhaustion and the stress of Hollywood. By the time you had noticed that he had spoken to you, he was asking if you were okay.

“What did you take? Do you have some extra?” Dieter’s eyes had a look to them. A look you thought you had left behind in your hometown, but you didn’t. It was a look of pure hunger. A hunger you had grown all too familiar with. You had tried to run from the look but it was becoming obvious that no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t run from that look. It felt like that hungry look in people’s eyes was always searching for you. Wanting you hurt you by any means possible. 

You hadn’t realized that you had started crying until you heard muttered curses and more ‘are you okay?’s. Pulling yourself out of your head was always hard and now was no different. Wiping your eyes, you offered a soft apology as you turned and quickly made your way to your new room. The hall was still empty as you made your way back to the rooms, but it still felt like someone was watching you or maybe they were just staring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flash Back~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A jolt. That’s what had torn you from your now fading nightmarish dream. It felt like you were in a free fall and then all of a sudden… Squeezing your eyes shut you try to calm your pounding heart. After a moment of laying in the surprisingly silent air you sat up. You could feel the cold sweat that had broken out across your forehead. Looking over you check your alarm clock, 3:22 AM. Groaning you throw your feet over the edge of your bed and force yourself out of the bed. 

Making your way across your small room, you focused on the silence. Normally the sounds of yelling and fighting filled the small house. Tonight though it was quiet. You recalled that right before you had gone upstairs your mom had been fighting on the phone with Travis, your mom’s new boyfriend, or whatever he was to her. Since your dad had died, your mom was never one to stay with the same man for too long. Travis was no exception to that cycle.

Once at your bedroom door, you pressed your ear to the door. “It’s still quiet out there. Did she go to bed?” Pushing open your bedroom door you stuck your head out and listened. Still nothing. 

Stepping out into the hall you quietly made your way to the kitchen. Walking through the still air of the house, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Swallowing dryly, you pushed through the eerie feeling that had now wrapped itself around you. Nearing the kitchen you could hear the soft murmurs of the TV still on in the living room.

“Mom, are you still up?” You spoke just loud enough for someone in the living room to hear. However, at the silent response you stopped walking, that feeling of eeriness from moments before, now becoming suffocating. Willing yourself to keep walking, you swallowed down the palpable fear that had found its way to you in the dark hall.

As you drew closer to the living room, you spoke up once more, “M-Mom did you fall asleep on the couch again?” Rounding the wall that separated the living room from the hall to the rooms you saw the back of your mom’s head. Feeling your heart rate slow slightly, you walked towards her.

As you got closer, you could tell something was wrong. Even though she appeared to be asleep, she wasn’t snoring nor was she muttering in her sleep. Both of which she normally did. Stopping just a couple of feet away you held your breath, you weren't raised religious, but in that moment, you said a silent prayer. Once done you opened your eyes and continued to close the distance between the two of you.

“Mom if this is a joke it isn’t fu-” Once behind her, you saw why she sat there so quietly. Rounding the couch, you were quick to drop to your knees in front of your mom. Turning your head you grabbed the closest pill bottle. Turning the bottle to read the label you noticed that it had been emptied entirely. Still holding the emptied bottle, you turned and reached for the next bottle. ‘Also empty.’ With that realization you felt your arms grow heavy.

Dropping the pill bottle to the ground you turned back to face your mom. She looked morbidly at peace for once, the stress of supporting you and herself no longer carved into her features. Reaching up with shaking hands, you gently cupped her face. When you noticed just how cold she was caused a squeeze in your chest that you hadn’t felt since your dad’s funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of you slamming the door close behind you pulled you from the memory that flooded your mind. With your back still pressed to the door, you feel your knees turn to jelly. Sliding down the door you felt sob after sob ripple through your now shaking body, how could you have been so stupid to believe that Dieter would be any different than any other user you’ve known. Bringing your knees to your chest and bury your face in them, hoping that the barrier between your sobs and the room around you, would be enough to muffle your crying.

Through the panic in your brain, you couldn’t help but think to yourself, ‘Great first day.’

```````

Credit to the maker of the banner, the lovely @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @carusolikey

[1kook]

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever🥺 the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.  

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected. 

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead. 

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily. 

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook. 

 Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with. 

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke. 

Neither of you laugh. 

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak. 

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got. 

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case. 

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car. 

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight. 

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him. 

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father.  “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing. 

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance. 

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck. 

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering. 

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

[little-mad]

The First Hunt: Chapter Two

A/N By popular demand, here's a sequel to The First Hunt! The original was meant to be a oneshot, but since people seemed to like it, and since I had more to say about the story, I figured a part two was in order. This one is a lot longer and more detailed than the first part cuz I wanted it to be more of a short story than a drabble. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

The warm glow of orange evening sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead. Thomas picked his way through the untamed forest, still wondering what exactly he was doing. The First Hunt had ended a couple hours ago, and Thomas’s peers were all back in town, enjoying the festivities that came with celebrating their passage into adulthood.

Thomas didn’t know exactly what had caused him to slip out of town and make his way back to the spot where he had last seen the human girl. The town elders would probably say hunting instinct. Thomas would be lying if he said he hadn’t been...intrigued by the human’s scent. He may have even followed through and eaten the tiny thing like he was supposed to, that is, if she hadn’t been squirming desperately in his fingers and begging for her life. As good as the little human had smelled, he knew he could never bring himself to eat something he could hold a conversation with.

So if it wasn’t hunger driving Thomas, then what was it? Perhaps just simple curiosity. He mostly doubted the human would have stuck around in the same place for so long, especially after having nearly been eaten, but he found himself itching to know whether she might still be there for some reason. After all, what were the chances he’d ever meet another human again? It was just so rare for them to stray out of the safety of their lands these days. If there was a possibility she might still be there, didn’t he have to be sure?

When he caught sight of a small, shaggy shrub, Thomas knew he had managed to navigate back to the spot where he’d first discovered the human. He heard a scampering nearby and had a brief flash of hope before he saw the sound had been made by a little orange fox that was now retreating further into the woods. Thomas continued to make his way closer to the bush. He could swear he could still detect traces of her sweet scent...unless…

As he walked forward, the distinct scent only got stronger. Thomas walked past the shrub and towards a thick but gnarled tree. At first he noticed nothing, and wondered if perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, but then as he glanced down at the base of the tree, he caught sight of a small crevice.

Thomas dropped down to his knees and bent to peer inside the little nook. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside. Pressed back as far as she could manage in the tight space, was a human, the very same human he had encountered a few hours ago.

Her wavy dark brown hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders was a frazzled mess, bits of bark catching at some of the strands. Barely perceptible beads of sweat were forming on her light brown skin, creating a slight shine to her face. Chestnut colored eyes stared back at Thomas with fear and panic.

---

Tara had made sure to wait a long while after the group of giants had left before even considering leaving her hiding place. She wasn’t willing to risk the chance that they would double back, plus she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had just survived a hands on encounter with a giant.

After about fifteen minutes, Tara had finally deemed it safe enough to exit cover. She’d been just about to do so when she heard an unusual sound. The sound had unfortunately turned out to be that of a giant sized animal sniffing around. Could it have merely been a harmless squirrel? Sure. But given Tara’s luck, she had to assume it was some kind of predator that would gladly snatch up a human for a snack. And for that reason, she had remained concealed in her hidey hole, waiting for the creature to wander off someplace else.

Of course, the animal, whatever it was, had decided it was quite content to remain where it was. Tara had heard it finally give up on its sniffing after awhile and lay down on the opposite side of the tree. Hours passed, and in addition to a growing feeling of hunger in her belly, there was also a new ache developing in her body from being stuffed in such a cramped space for so long. She had just been considering making a mad dash for it and taking the chance that the animal was predatory, when she began to feel a sickeningly familiar rumbling shake the earth.

Tara’s blood went cold. Her window of escape had disappeared. The creature on the other side of the tree was now the least of her concerns. A much bigger predator was coming. If Tara’s last experience with a giant had been any indication, the giant would have no problem sniffing her out. It almost seemed like they had a nose made specifically for detecting humans.

The tremors in the ground increased in intensity as the giant came into view. Tara’s eyebrows shot up as she realized she recognized the massive being. It was the very same one who had captured her just hours earlier. Tara’s heart began to beat erratically in her chest. He had let her go...he’d told her he wouldn’t eat her. She swallowed hard. He must have changed his mind.

Tara could only watch as the young man advanced closer and closer towards her hiding spot. Then there was a rustling sound, from the animal that had been keeping her stuck. The giant’s gaze instantly snapped towards the source of the noise. Tara couldn’t see what he was looking at from where she was, but based on the disappointed look on the man’s face, she had to assume he hadn’t been impressed by whatever it was. This led Tara to a horrifying conclusion. The giant had reacted so quickly to the sound the animal had made, meaning he was looking for something, and Tara had a feeling she knew exactly what that something was.

The giant sniffed the air, an intrigued look forming on his face as he did. Tara had to bite her lip to prevent herself from releasing a whimper. He had caught her scent, it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the towering being was directly in front of Tara’s now useless hiding place. His forest green eyes stared at her in surprise. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting to find her. Which was sensible. Tara should have been long gone by now. She had to mentally scoff at herself. She’d been given a miraculous second chance at life and she had somehow managed to screw it up and end up right back in the jaws of death.

It wasn’t long before the look of surprise on the giant’s face shifted into an excited smile that caused a tight feeling to form in Tara’s chest. She tried desperately to shove herself further back into the small crevice in the tree trunk, as if she’d end up magically getting absorbed into the bark.

Then, suddenly something huge came shooting towards her. Tara yelped as, for the second time that day, devastatingly massive fingers wrapped around her body. Her stomach churned as she was effortlessly pulled out of the nook and up into open air. The movement didn’t stop until she was being held directly in front of the giant’s still smiling face.

Tara wanted to yell, curse, and struggle, but she found herself momentarily frozen in place. She could see her own reflection in the shine of the giant eyes. God, did she look pathetic. The upper half of her body stuck out from the giant's fist, her arms hanging limply over the sides of his fingers. She could only imagine how pitiful she would appear to the immense creature.

After eying her for a couple agonizing moments, the giant made a sound of happy disbelief in the back of his throat before shifting his entire massive form. When the moving was finished, the young man was sitting with his back pressed against the tree and his knees bent. He held Tara slightly below eye level and a few inches away from his face.

“God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” The giant spoke for the first time after finding Tara once again. His expression was filled with awe, not unlike a child that had just been presented a fascinating toy. Tara cringed at the sight of it.

“L-let me go!” She finally managed to spit out. She was still lacking the ferocity she’d possessed when she’d snapped at the giant during their last encounter, but she was hoping she would be able to build back up to it.

---

Thomas couldn’t believe his luck. He’d managed to get a hold of a human not once, but twice in the same day! He only wished he could brag about it to his friends. Of course, then he’d be forced to lie about not eating her. He supposed he could tell them the truth, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t be very receptive.

As he stared at her, wrapped up in his fist, he came to a new realization. Now that he had made himself stop viewing the human as food, he had to say, the little creature was honestly kind of adorable. She looked totally frazzled, but that almost added to the cuteness factor.

The feeling of tiny fingers lightly brushing against his skin sent shivers throughout Thomas’s body. It was insane, a creature that looked so similar to giants but was so damn tiny. “God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” He remarked breathlessly, a grin on his face.

The little human, unfortunately, did not seem to share in his enthusiasm. “L-let me go!” She stuttered. A frown instantly took form on Thomas’s face. He supposed he should have expected this. He had almost eaten her the last time he held her. But he had told her he wasn’t going to do it and he’d released her afterwards. Shouldn’t she know he wasn’t going to hurt her?

“Wait...just wait, this could be a once in a lifetime chance for us to talk.” Thomas insisted. He knew so little about human culture, current human culture in particular. It was hard to learn about the species when his people ate them up if they ever ran into one. There were a few old textbooks back home, but the information was likely horribly outdated by now, not to mention potentially inaccurate considering they had been written by giants and not humans themselves. Thomas was itching to know what life was really like for the tiny creatures.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home.” The minuscule girl retorted, fidgeting uncomfortably in between his fingers. Taking note of this, Thomas repositioned the human so that, rather than being held in his fist, she stood in the center of his palm. His fingers were curled up behind her, creating a sort of barrier.

The feeling of the human’s tiny feet moving around on his hand was unbelievable! Thomas had known humans existed his entire life, but now that he was actually holding one, he found it mind boggling that such a petite species could even survive in the world. He knew things were more proportional for the humans on their side of the border, but still, that didn’t change the fact that they were so low on the food chain compared to so many other creatures. Even the prey animals in giant territory outclassed humans.

“Are you...not a little curious about giants?” Thomas questioned the girl, using his free hand to rub at the side of his neck.

The human gave an immediate scoff, complete with an eye roll. “What’s there to be curious about? You treat us like food, that’s all I need to know.” It seemed the spunk she’d possessed during their last meeting had returned. It was kind of impressive how someone in such a vulnerable position could respond with such moxie.

“H-hey, I didn’t eat you, did I?” Thomas shot back defensively. However, as his mind wandered back to the moment he’d held her dangling above his mouth, he couldn’t help but recall the tempting scent that had wafted off of the human. “Although...you--well you do smell pretty good…” The words leaked out almost involuntarily as he was lost in the memory.

Thomas was pulled out of his reverie by a furious gasp and the feeling of tentative steps retreating backwards on his palm. When his gaze refocused he could see the human wearing an expression of disgust mixed with fear, her little arms wrapped around her middle defensively. “Not that I’m going to eat you!” Thomas blurted out, realizing how thoughtless his words had been. “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.”

---

The moment the giant had mentioned how good she apparently smelled, Tara was struck with a renewed sense of fear. She hated it, being viewed as some sort of tasty meal. She couldn’t comprehend the concept. Humans ate the meat of animals, sure, but they couldn’t sniff out a cow, nor did they consider it to smell good prior to being cooked. Giants were different, more barbaric, more animalistic. And yet, they seemed as intelligent as humans. It didn’t make sense.

“Not that I’m going to eat you!” The giant insisted. She stared back at him with suspicion in her eyes. Had he really come all this way to just talk to her? “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.” He added. It almost gave Tara whiplash, the way the giant could go from commenting on how delicious she smelled, to noticeably cringing at the idea of eating a being with which he could verbally communicate with.

“I’m not a something, I’m a someone.” Tara corrected, folding her arms firmly over her chest.

“Right, sorry.” The giant replied sheepishly. Tara could swear she could actually see his face reddening slightly. “I guess I’m not used to this whole talking to a human thing.”

Tara gave a snort. “Understatement.” If she had to write a rulebook for giants on what not to say to humans, rule number one would be: ‘don’t talk about how delicious they may smell!’ But, if she was being honest with herself, this guy was a far cry better than what she had expected. She supposed she should count her lucky stars that she had been found by what was likely the only giant that showed any qualms about eating humans. Considering the fact that the First Hunt indeed was real, Tara could only assume the rest of the giants were totally on board with gobbling humans up.

“Ok, I deserve that.” The young giant admitted, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was quiet for a moment as he looked over Tara, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. And then, “I didn’t expect humans to have such sharp tongues.”

It was true that Tara’s courage, and accompanying attitude, had come back full force after her initial terror at re-encountering the giant had ebbed slightly. Of course, the fear was still present, her instincts would never allow that to go away entirely. However, she was able to keep it as background noise. That being said, she didn’t very much like the giant’s insinuation. It almost seemed as though he had expected humans to be these tiny quivering wrecks.

“I doubt you giants know much of anything about what humans are like.” Tara snipped. She had a feeling most giants didn’t bother to ask for a human’s life story before devouring them.

“Well then why not educate me?” Came the giant’s quick response. God, he seemed eager. His eyes were almost sparkling with enthusiasm. Tara couldn’t understand why he was so interested in humans. It was his own damn species’ fault that the two peoples couldn’t get along.

“What if you could bridge the gap?” A small part of her mind argued. Tara was quick to shake that thought away. There was no way having a heart to heart with one single giant was going to stop all of giantkind from being obsessed with eating humans. Besides, she needed to convince this guy to let her go. The longer she was around a giant, the higher the chances of her getting hurt became.

“Because--because every second I’m around you, my life is in danger!” Tara exclaimed. She forced herself to walk towards the front of the giant’s hand, ignoring how utterly bizarre it felt to be standing on someone’s actual palm.

A frown appeared on the young man’s face. “Come on, I already said I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He said it almost in a whine. Tara was beginning to wonder if this guy was really like a gigantic puppy. Of course, even a puppy was dangerous if it was bigger than a house.

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Tara asked with a quirked brow. “Besides, you could hurt me without evening meaning to.” What may seem like a small, inconsequential movement for the giant could be potentially catastrophic for someone Tara’s size. Too much pressure from his fingers, a misstep, a sudden jolt; they could all spell disaster for her. The giant clearly didn’t understand that. For him, there was no danger in a simple conversation. Of course there wasn’t, not for him, the one with all the control.

The man remained silent for a moment, apparently digesting Tara’s words. It was a positive sign that he was actually taking her words into consideration. “I’ll...I’ll be careful, I promise.” He vowed, earning a frustrated groan from Tara.

Ever since she was little, Tara had been a headstrong child. Her mother had even taken to referring to her as a ‘stubborn little mule’ whenever she was especially pig headed about something. But now, it seemed the mule had met her match. This giant was relentless in his pursuit to satisfy his own curiosity.

A soft breath from the giant’s mouth ruffled Tara’s hair as it blew past her. He wore a difficult to read expression on his face. It almost seemed like he was conflicted. He kept his silence for a few moments, looking off into the distance and for once freeing Tara from his persistent staring. Before she could properly relish in the feeling of not being the center of a massive being’s attention, his deep green eyes were locked back on her. “Would you at least tell me your name? Mine is Thomas.”

Tara’s eyebrows lifted slightly. She hadn’t even considered that this giant had a name. Giants had always seemed like abstract otherworldly concepts to her. Therefore, the fact that this one had a name, not to mention a seemingly mundane name like Thomas, was a little bit unexpected. “Uh, I’m Tara…” She replied, feeling rather strange doing introductions with a giant.

A bright grin broke out on Thomas’s face. He was way too excited about this. “Pleasure to meet you, Tara.”

---

Thomas found himself unable to keep his hands to himself after he and the human named Tara exchanged introductions. Her awkward body language somehow made her look even cuter! With the tip of a single finger he reached out and ruffled Tara’s already unruly head of hair. He marveled at how soft the locks felt despite how untamed they currently appeared.

The indignant squeak the little human made in response to Thomas’s touch was way too endearing for him to bear, and he was about to go back in to tap Tara lightly on the head when a sudden look of sharp fear came across her face. “Someone’s coming.” She hissed urgently, brown eyes blown wide as she stared up at Thomas.

His eyebrows furrowed and he remained silent while he tried to hear what the human had apparently picked up on. At first he heard nothing. He was just beginning to think Tara had been yanking his chain when he finally caught the sound of approaching footsteps.

Panic was quick to take a grip on Thomas as he shot up to his feet. While he had vowed not to eat Tara, he doubted whoever was coming would share the same sentiment. If another giant knew of her existence, she would be placed in extreme danger. Not to mention the fact that Thomas would have to try to explain why he, a giant, had been holding a casual conversation with a human rather than consuming them.

The footsteps were quickly growing nearer, the new giant would soon be within eyesight. Thomas looked down at Tara to see a look of terror frozen on her face. She looked up at him with desperation in her eyes, as if begging him to do something. He swallowed thickly and gave the human a small nod.

Then, using the hand Tara wasn’t currently standing on, Thomas once again grabbed the human. Swiftly he moved the hand holding Tara around to his back and shifted so he stood as close to the tree trunk as possible without squishing the delicate human he had in his grasp. It was a pretty poor hiding place, that much he knew, but without any kind of pocket or bag to drop her into, Thomas’s options had been severely limited. Although, Thomas wondered if there was even a point in attempting to hide her, any giant with a functioning nose would be able to smell her from several yards away.

A moment later the oncoming giant finally came into view. Thomas’s eyes widened as he realized who it was. The young man’s skin was slightly more tanned than Thomas’s, and his complexion paired well with his medium blond hair. He had angular facial features and a set of icy blue eyes behind a pair of round glasses. He was only a couple months older than Thomas, something he knew because the approaching giant was none other than his best friend.

“Ah ha, I thought I might find you out here.” Lane called, a grin on his lips as he made his way closer to Thomas. “Hoping you’d get a second chance at catching a human, huh?”

Lane and Thomas had been friends ever since they were little kids. It had been their interest in learning that had ultimately solidified their friendship. Thomas was constantly itching for novel, unheard of information. He wanted to discover new and exciting things before anyone else. Lane, on the other hand, was more interested in culture and tradition. He was fascinated by giant history and wanted to analyze it to no end. Within the past few years, Lane had become especially interested in studying giantkind’s history with eating humans.

It was for this reason that Thomas considered Lane to be just about the worst person to come around while he was currently trying to conceal a human. The guy was obsessed with the idea of getting to eat a human. He considered it to be a tradition that connected giants with their ancestors. After the First Hunt had ended, Thomas had been subjected to extensive complaining about the fact that no humans had been found.

Abruptly halting his progress towards Thomas, a perplexed look formed on Lane’s face. He lifted his nose into the air and gave several small sniffs. “Do you smell that?” He asked, continuing to sniff at the air.

Perhaps a bit too quickly, Thomas shook his head. “N-no, I don’t smell anything.” He claimed.

Lane shot Thomas an unconvinced look. “Oh come on, it smells amazing! I haven’t ever smelled anything like it.” He proceeded making his way over to his friend, but didn’t stop sniffing all the way there.

Thomas could feel Tara squirming uncomfortably in his hand. He didn’t know whether it was because of the way he was holding or because of Lane. To be on the safe side, he loosened his grip on her ever so slightly.

“Hey, what do you have there?” Lane questioned, finally taking his focus off of the smell to eye Thomas’s unnaturally positioned arm.

“Is it really that obvious??” Thomas thought to himself miserably. “Nothing.” He told Lane, trying to school his expression into one of casual indifference. “This is just how I’m standing.” Thomas felt a tiny smack on his knuckle. If he had to guess, Tara wasn’t very impressed with his attempt at lying.

Lane quirked an eyebrow. “Alright, then show me your hand.” He prompted.

“I don’t see why--” Before Thomas could even finish his sentence, Lane had grabbed hold of his upper arm and yanked until the hand holding Tara popped out of cover.

For a moment, Lane just stared with eyes as wide as saucers. Then, after he seemed to process what he was looking at, a sly grin slowly spread across his face. Thomas didn’t like that look one bit, especially not when it was aimed at Tara. “You actually caught one!” The blond exclaimed.

Thomas released a low sigh as he moved his arm so that Tara was once again held in front of his body. Rather than return her to her previous position of standing freely on his palm, Thomas kept her gripped in a fist. With Lane now present, it just felt safer.

Although a couple inches shorter than Thomas, Lane still had to bend to get himself at level to where Tara was being held at chest height. He moved his face in close to the human, wearing an expression of exhilarated amazement. “The stories are right, they really are bite sized.” He commented. Thomas could see Tara cringe back at the words. The poor girl’s heartbeat was going crazy, he could feel it pounding against his fingers.

Both Thomas and Tara appeared relieved when Lane straightened and backed up slightly. “Hey, why were you hiding it?” Lane’s gaze flicked from Tara up to Thomas’s face. “What, were you afraid I was going to try and steal your catch?”

“No, I just--”

“It may have ended, but it’s still technically the day of the First Hunt.” Lane stated, apparently too excited about the fact that one of them had found a human to care too much about Thomas’s potential distrust in him.

“Lane, that--”

“You should eat it right here and now, as tradition dictates.” This time, Lane’s interruption sent a wave of alarm throughout Thomas’s body. This was all so overwhelming. He’d just wanted to have a civil discussion with Tara, and now Lane was here trying to get him to eat her!

“What?! No, I’m not doing that!” Thomas cried, loathing the images that were forcibly appearing in his mind of himself dropping Tara into his mouth. What he hated more, was that there was a part of him that actually almost wanted to do so.

Thomas had always found the way giants felt so compelled to devour humans to be strange. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that giants enjoyed eating the tiny creatures, but that they enjoyed eating them whole and raw. With every other kind of meat, giants cooked and seasoned it prior to indulging. It was the civilized thing to do. But with humans it was different. Eating them alive was basically the only way that was considered proper. It was a barbaric practice. Thomas just didn’t understand what it was about humans that turned otherwise civilized giants into hunger driven savages. He didn’t want to be like that, no matter how much his instincts may be urging him to.

“But if you wait till we get home, you can bet someone will try to take it from you.” Lane insisted, clearly misinterpreting Thomas’s opposition to immediately eating the human.

“Lane--” Thomas started, though he didn’t really know where he was going.

“I think Daren wants to eat a human just as much as me, but he’s not your friend so he won’t hesitate to steal your catch.” Lane commented casually. Yesterday this kind of conversation wouldn’t have bothered Thomas in the slightest. Discussing eating humans was fairly commonplace among giants, and he’d never been upset when Lane had brought up the topic in the past. But now, after meeting Tara, Thomas found himself disgusted with how easily his friend spoke about ending another living being’s life.

“I am not eating her, period!” The exclamation had come out louder and stronger than Thomas had perhaps intended, but the way he had felt Tara practically shaking in his hand had elicited an unexpected response.

A look of confusion instantly took shape on Lane’s face, staring at Thomas like he had three heads. “What are you talking about?”

Thomas took in a deep breath. He really hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with any of his friends, least of all Lane. The guy was so lost in giant tradition that he couldn’t seem to consider the possibility that maybe their ancestors hadn’t been such great and admirable people afterall. Thomas didn’t even know how to begin explaining to Lane how he felt, but he had no choice but to figure it out as he spoke. “Lane, humans...eating humans isn’t--it isn’t something I can do.” He started lamely.

Lane narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I can’t bring myself to eat something as sentient as you or I.” Thomas responded simply. He could feel Tara’s little eyes on him, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with the other giant.

“Oh please, you sound like those human sympathizer nut jobs.” Lane scoffed.

Thomas remained silent, unsure of how to respond. He had been raised to view the small number of human sympathizing giants as loons. These days, there were only two left in their small town, and they were both treated as total outcasts. Thomas realized he suddenly had more in common with them than the rest of the townspeople. Now that Lane knew how he felt, would it only be a matter of time before he too was socially shunned?

A noise of incredulity came from Lane as he shook his head in disbelief. “Thomas, we are predators and they are our prey. Eating humans is in our DNA.” He was spouting the same rhetoric as the town elders, and pretty much every adult in town to be honest. Thomas could recall a time when he was eleven, after studying human-giant relations in school for the first time, he’d come home and asked his father why giants loved eating humans so much. His father’s response had been that giants were naturally made to want to hunt humans, that it was an intrinsic part of giant nature. At the time, Thomas had accepted it as fact and moved on. But now, he was beginning to question everything he’d been taught.

“We’re not mindless animals, we don’t have to succumb to base urges.” He argued, almost pleadingly. He wanted his friend to understand, wanted him to see things the way he had started to.

Lane responded with an exaggerated eye roll, clearly not convinced by Thomas’s words. “Ok, you know what? If you’re not going to eat it, I will.”

Realizing what Lane was doing just in time, Thomas dodged to the side just as the shorter man made a lunge for Tara. Thomas’s fingers automatically tightened around the human girl’s body, evoking a sharp gasp from her. He felt bad for causing such a reaction, but he knew it was better for her to be uncomfortable in his hands than ending up in Lane’s at all. Thomas brought the hand holding Tara in close to his body, practically squishing her against his chest. “You need to back off.” He warned Lane as he himself slowly stepped further away.

---

Tara was quite sure that this day would forever rank number one on her list of worst days of all time, that is, if she even lived to see another day. Not only had she been captured and nearly eaten by a giant and later recaptured by said giant, but now there was a whole other giant involved, and one who seemed a lot more interested in eating a human than Thomas had.

This new giant, apparently named Lane, was somehow even more terrifying than Thomas, despite the fact that he looked to be slightly shorter in height. Thomas had never really looked at Tara with outright hunger in his eyes, at least not that she had detected. The same could not be said for Lane. Every time his eyes landed on her, she felt as though she were a piece of meat hanging in the window of a butcher’s shop. She absolutely hated it.

If Lane having just tried to grab her hadn’t been bad enough, Tara was currently in the highly unpleasant position of being tightly clutched in Thomas’s hand. While the grip around her body wasn’t painful, it was certainly far from comfortable. Not to mention the fact that she was being pressed into the giant’s chest, her face barely an inch away from the soft material of the sweater he wore. In order to even see anything except the expanse that was Thomas’s torso, she had to crane her neck around to look over her shoulder.

“If you don’t want to eat humans, then fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” Lane growled.

Tara was very quickly getting fed up with all this talk of eating her, and what was more, she was fed up with just sitting idly by while two giants bickered about her fate. Using her arms to leverage herself, Tara managed to twist herself around within Thomas’s fist. Now facing out towards Lane, she leveled a wrathful glare at the giant. “No one is fucking eating me!”

Terror quickly began to eat away at Tara’s fierce facade when Lane’s cold blue eyes zeroed in on her. For a moment, he looked slightly surprised to hear her speak. She supposed it was likely the first time he’d ever heard a human’s voice before. However, the surprise quickly wore off and was replaced with a look of haughty disdain. “Listen here, morsel.” The blond giant sneered, the words causing Tara to physically flinch. “You broke the treaty by coming onto our land.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“The reason doesn’t matter. So long as you’re in our territory, you’re fair game.” Lane stated simply.

Technically, legally, Lane was right. For all intents and purposes, Tara had broken the treaty and was subject to whatever laws governed giants. But she didn’t care, she didn’t care what the laws were or what the treaty said. “Crossing a border doesn’t make me deserving of being killed.” Tara spat back with a scowl. “You giants are so twisted in the head if you think that’s right.”

Tara could feel Thomas’s fingers twitch around her. She wondered what kind of expression he was wearing at the moment, but she didn’t want to disqualify herself from the glaring contest that was currently taking place between her and Lane. “It’s the way nature works.” He said with an unconcerned shrug. “The predator hunts the prey. Don’t be upset because you got stuck as the prey.”

“Lane, knock it off!” Tara’s heart skipped a beat at Thomas’s sudden roar. His voice vibrated throughout her body and caused a slight ache in her ears. Still, the outburst couldn’t distract her from dwelling on Lane’s words. Was that really how giants saw it? They thought it was natural for them to devour humans, and so never stopped to ponder the moral implications?

“What is wrong with you?” Lane demanded, removing his gaze from Tara to shoot an incredulous look up at Thomas. “You can’t tell me you’re not dying to get a taste, the smell alone--”

“I already told you, I’m not eating her, and neither are you.” Thomas interrupted sharply. Tara was glad he’d stopped Lane when he had, the words the giant had been saying had already begun to make her feel sick to her stomach. Hearing how apparently delicious she smelled was horrific, and even worse was the hungry look of longing that had been on his face.

Lost in her own dark thoughts, Tara didn’t even notice the giant hand coming at her until it was too late. A scream got caught in her throat as her shoulders were shoved into the crease between the assaulting hand’s thumb and index finger. There was a burst of pain as she was forcibly wrenched out of Thomas’s hand. Then there came a disorienting blur as Tara felt her body being carried through the air at nauseating speeds.

When she finally managed to somewhat gather her senses, she found she was horizontal to the ground, her legs dangling while her upper half was forcibly held straight by massive fingers. It was then that she lifted her gaze from the distant earth. The sight in front of her caused a horrified shriek to tear through her throat.

There Tara was, being held directly in front of a wide open giant mouth, and she was rapidly being moved towards it.

---

Lane’s grab for Tara had been so sudden that Thomas hadn’t had the chance to evade it. Before he knew it, Lane had snatched the human right out of his hand, and it seemed his friend wasn’t about to waste any time in eating her.

Thomas could feel his pulse pounding in his neck as he watched almost as if in slow motion as Lane lifted the defenseless Tara to his gaping mouth. “No, this isn’t happening, I won’t let it!” Thomas’s thoughts screamed at him. Just as Tara’s head was about to enter the abyss that was Lane’s mouth, Thomas dove forward and managed to snag hold of the other giant’s forearm. A loud smack echoed through the woods from the impact of his palm on Lane’s bare arm.

Now forcibly holding Lane’s arm back from continuing its mission to deposit Tara into his mouth, Thomas threw a dark glare at his friend. “Give her to me now.” He demanded.

Lane looked back with a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Thomas, you need help. You’ve completely lost touch with your own instincts.” Here Lane was, about to end someone’s life without a second thought, and he had the gall to tell Thomas he needed help. It truly was twisted how giant society viewed things. Yet, was Thomas really one to talk? He’d played along with it all just yesterday. It had taken meeting a human, holding her in his hand, for Thomas to begin to truly question the ideas that had been drilled into his head for so long.

“My instincts don’t define me, I’m not a slave to primal urges.” The words were stated calmly and simply. Lane considered himself a scholar, and so Thomas would try to persuade him as such.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Lane exclaimed. Thomas could see his words were failing to give Lane pause, and instead were just offending the guy and pissing him off more. He was beginning to wonder if this was going to develop into a fight. Thomas may be tall and fairly fit, but he had no experience with physical altercations. But, neither did Lane. If both of them were equally inexperienced, Thomas hoped his greater size would put him at an advantage if it came down to it.

It was then that Thomas glanced down at Tara. Her body was being held in a precarious grip with four of Lane’s fingers on her back while the thumb was the only thing between her and the distant ground. This perhaps explained why she wasn’t struggling at all, she knew if she broke free, she’d be plummeting to what would likely be her own death.

Horrible waves of guilt rose up within Thomas. Tara was in this position because of him. She had wanted to leave the second he had found her, but he hadn’t let her. Now she was trapped in a life threatening scenario, and if a fight did break out between the two giants, the frail human could easily be damaged in the crossfire. Thomas would have to avoid that if at all possible.

“Lane, if you’re my friend, please just let her go.” He urged, allowing some vulnerability into his voice. Despite how it likely appeared to Tara, Thomas’s friend wasn’t heartless. The guy had been there for him at times when no one else had. He had to believe Lane was a good person at his core, that he had just been brainwashed to view humans as objects rather than people. Surely he could be reasoned with.

Lane opened his mouth as if to immediately refuse, but halted when he locked eyes with Thomas. After several moments of silence, he could see the resistance draining from his friend. With his free hand, Thomas positioned his palm just below Tara. Lane hesitated for a second before pulling his thumb out from under the human’s body, causing her to immediately drop down into the waiting hand.

As soon as Tara was safely back in his hands, Thomas brought her back against his chest. He was practically cradling the human, and chances were, Tara wasn’t exactly happy about it. However, he wasn’t about to stop, not when she’d be so nearly killed. And though he doubted Lane would make another grab for the human, Thomas didn’t plan on putting his guard down.

“This could be our only chance to eat a human, you know?” Lane said quietly. He stood back, arms folded over his chest. There was a somber look on his face.

Thomas gave his friend a sad smile. “I think we’re better off never doing it.”

Lane shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”

A glance down at Tara’s tiny form cupped in his hand was all the assurance Thomas needed to know that he was doing the right thing. Lane may not be able to see it yet, but maybe he could someday. He had put his friendship with Thomas over his desire to eat a human. That itself was a positive sign.

“I’m going to take her back to the border, we can talk after I get back to town.” Thomas stated, and with that he turned and left, Lane thankfully not attempting to pursue.

---

Tara was seated in the center of Thomas’s left palm, the giant’s other hand cupped in front of her to create a kind of barrier. As they had increased their distance from Lane, Thomas had transitioned from practically caging her in between his two hands, to at least now allowing her a little bit of breathing room.

So far, the journey to the border had been completely silent. Tara had no idea what to even say after everything that had happened, and Thomas apparently didn’t either. The silence hanging between them was beginning to become uncomfortable, and Tara was about to relent and just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, when Thomas finally spoke up. “Tara, I’m sorry.” The statement was simple, and yet caused her eyebrows to shoot up.

Turning around to face the giant, Tara tilted her head back to look at Thomas, only to be met with the underside of his jaw. He kept his eyes forward, but she could still make out a regretful frown on his face. His words had been genuine.

“My actions put you in danger.” The giant affirmed.

Tara gave a snort. “Yeah, they sure did.” She could see Thomas’s frown deepen as he gave a slight nod of understanding. “But,” Tara continued, “you did stand up to your friend for me, so I guess I can’t hate you completely.”

She was sure that if she ever recounted this story to any other humans, they’d never understand how she could not despise the giant that had caused her so many problems. And of course, Tara wasn’t about to join the Thomas fan club anytime soon. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the courage and kindness he had displayed when he protected her from Lane. Yesterday, she never would’ve imagined in a million years that a giant would not only refrain from eating her, but also willingly oppose their own friend for her sake.

These recent events were going to force Tara to reevaluate her views on giants. Thomas certainly seemed like an outlier, but surely he couldn’t be the only one. Lane had mentioned something about “human sympathizer nut jobs”, which seemed to suggest there were other giants who defied the norms. Perhaps giants were more human than she had thought?

The frown had faded slightly from Thomas’s face, though he still wore a serious expression. “Listen, I know that was a pretty bad first impression, but Lane really isn’t an evil person.” He insisted.

Tara held back a dry laugh. Lane was probably on the top of her list of least favorite people. Almost eating her proved worse than the former top spot holder’s offense of calling Tara a “vulgar swine.” Despite her clear dislike for the guy, she didn’t want to denigrate him directly to Thomas’s face. He clearly saw something redeemable in his friend, and while Tara couldn’t see it, she really did hope he was right. She knew that if it were her best friend, she would be giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” was all she said.

A few moments later, Tara began to notice the trees beginning to loom over her less and less. Soon, Thomas was wading through trees that reached his stomach. The sight of normal sized trees was like a breath of fresh air. She was eager to stop feeling so miniscule.

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to the border.” Thomas muttered.

From the tales she’d heard from her town’s scouts, there were times when giants would stand at the very edge of the border. These giants would apparently stare into human territory, and if they caught sight of one of the scouts, they would attempt to lure them over the border. Tara was glad to hear Thomas had never been among them.

A chuckle escaped her at the nervous look on the giant’s face. “Don’t worry, you’re not about to start getting shot with arrows.” She assured him. So long as Thomas never stepped a toe over the border, no human could cause him any harm.

Thomas’s gaze flicked down to Tara, a slightly abashed smile on his face. She smirked. It was almost endearing, the way something so massive could manage to appear so awkward and innocent.

It wasn’t long after that that the pair finally reached the border which separated giant and human territory. The boundary was distinctly marked by an extensive creek. It was shallow enough to easily wade through if need be, but thankfully they had arrived at a section with a few well placed stones that could be used to hop across.

“So that’s human territory, huh?” Thomas remarked, staring out at the land across the creek.

Tara gave a shrug, it wasn’t anything special, especially not this part, which was just a stretch of woods. Really, it wasn’t much different from the giants’ forest. Size was really the only major disparity.

“Hey,” Tara could feel the giant’s eyes back on her, “you never said why you were past the border in the first place.”

A rush of heat instantly began to warm her cheeks. The tale of how she’d wound up lost in giant territory wasn’t exactly a flattering one. However, she had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t stand for no response. “Primrose only grows on the other side of the border.” She started. “I only planned on going a little ways, but then a giant wolf came after me and chased me further in.”

Rather than the amused expression she had been expecting, Thomas was looking down at her with wide eyes. “That sounds terrifying.” He breathed. “Wolves are scary enough at normal size.”

Tara chuckled. “Not as terrifying as a giant person.” She meant the words sincerely, but she said them in a joking tone.

Thomas gave a sideways nod. “Fair enough.” He said, a small smile on his lips. There was a brief pause, and then, “I supposed I should put you down now, huh?” His disappointment at this prospect was evident. For whatever reason, the guy really seemed to like holding Tara. She, on the other hand, would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to get out of giant hands.

Tara gave Thomas a shrug that said ‘well yeah, duh.’ The giant’s response was an over dramatic sigh before he moved his hands back a few inches from his chest. He then abruptly dropped into a crouch at a jarring speed. Tara involuntarily took a hold of Thomas’s nearby thumb to prevent herself from toppling over. A perfect example of why she was more than ready to be back on solid ground.

When Thomas looked down to see Tara clutching his thumb, his face morphed into the embodiment of the word ‘awww.’ She scowled back up at him and was quick to release her hold on the huge appendage. Her mother still sometimes called her cute despite her being fully grown, something Tara greatly disliked, so she certainly wasn’t going to take it from this giant. Seeing Tara’s grumpy face, Thomas was quick to try and wipe the expression off his face, although the soft smile remained.

“Move a little more slowly, would you?” She griped, crossing her arms over her chest.

A low chuckle came from the giant, but he nodded in understanding anyways. “Sure thing.” He then began to carefully lower the hand holding Tara down to the grass below. When the back of his hand was flush with the ground, Tara got to her feet and quickly hopped off of the warm palm. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, relieved to be mobile of her own accord once again.

With a grin on her face, Tara turned around to face Thomas. “Sheesh, I forgot how much bigger he looks when I’m down here.” She thought to herself as she stared up at the giant’s enormous figure. Even when he was crouched down, he still absolutely towered over her.

“Hey.” Thomas started, preventing Tara from dwelling on her growing size related anxiety. “I--I was wondering if maybe you might want to see each other again sometime…I could even bring you some primrose.”

The immediate answer that sprung to Tara’s mind was a resounding “no.” But, before she voiced it aloud, she stopped herself. The day’s events had proven one thing very clearly to her: giants were incredibly dangerous. Though she’d managed to escape with her life, she hadn’t come out unscathed. Tara’s shoulders still ached from where Lane had grabbed her earlier. However, she couldn’t pretend Thomas’s unexpected behavior hadn’t intrigued her a little. Plus his offer of bringing primrose was tempting. And, she had just thought of a way the two could talk safely, without any risk on Tara’s end.

While on very rare occasions humans would cross over the border as Tara had done, giants never did the same. For whatever reason, even the most vile giants seemed to obey the treaty to a T. For that reason, Tara figured it was safe to assume that Thomas would do the same. Therefore, if each party remained on their respective side of the border, in theory they could still converse with one another. It was something Tara would need to spend some time considering.

“I’ll think about it.” She told Thomas. “Come back in a week and check under that rock,” she pointed to a large stone behind the giant, “I’ll leave a note there with my answer.”

Thomas beamed down at her, clearly pleased he hadn’t been outright shut down by the human. It was amazing really, he was giving her the power to decide whether or not their relationship continued. It was something someone as big and powerful as him didn’t need to do, but in doing so, he showed that he had at least some respect for Tara’s autonomy. Definitely a good sign.

Tara made her way over to the edge of the creek closest to the path of stones. Not in the mood to get soaked, she carefully picked her way across, trying to ignore the giant eyes on her back. The moment her feet touched down on the grass on the other side, Tara could feel the muscles in her body relaxing. No longer was she in giant territory. She was back, safe and sound on her own side of the border.

When she turned back around to face Thomas, she could see him looking back at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He brushed strands of light brown hair away from his face, and as Tara took in his appearance, she was reminded how scarily human-like giants were. It would be far easier for humans to dismiss them as monsters if they had huge horns, or razor-sharp fangs. Now that she had met Thomas, it was now even more difficult to do so.

Holding her arms in front of herself, Tara returned Thomas’s smile, though hers was much less easy going than his. “Well, thanks for not eating me, I guess.” She said with an awkward chuckle.

Thomas made an amused sound in his throat. “You’re welcome.”

Lifting her gaze up to the sky, Tara noticed the sun was nearly halfway hidden beyond the horizon. Night would fall soon and she still had the walk back to town ahead of her. Not to mention there were probably some people wondering why her herb gathering trip was taking so unusually long. She still wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to tell her friends and family about her experience. It was something she’d have to mull over on the way home.

“So long, Thomas.” Tara gave a short wave.

“See you soon.” Thomas replied, a playful edge to his tone.

With that, Tara turned around and began the trek back to town. She didn’t feel the vibrations of retreating giant footsteps until the border was completely out of sight.

A/N I don't necessarily plan on making another part to the First Hunt per say, but I am making Tara, Thomas, and Lane official OCs on the blog. I'm thinking of taking story requests and prompts in the future, so if anyone wanted more of the First Hunt universe, perhaps that could be arranged 😜

[thelazyhermits]

A New Furry Friend

So, my original intention was to just write a cute little drabble to go along with something that was brought up near the end of the first chapter of @euan112358‘s, A Bright Celebration, but I just kept writing until I got over 3000 words. Oops lol

I hope y’all enjoy it! ^-^

After preparing and eating a light lunch with Class 1-A, you find yourself cleaning up in the kitchen while the students are practicing their super moves that they have to have ready in time for the provisional license exam. Several of the students wanted to help you out with the cleaning, but you told them it’d be wiser to spend all their available time practicing rather than worry about taking care of some dirty dishes.

Besides, you don’t really mind being on cleanup duty since it gives you something to do. Aside from helping Hagakure improve on her hand-to-hand combat skills, you haven’t really been able to contribute much to the special training, meaning you’ve had a lot of free time on your hands.

So, right now, you’re perfectly fine doing anything that keeps you preoccupied since the last thing you want is to be stuck on the sidelines with nothing to do. Even something as mundane as washing dishes is more preferable to you than that.

Still, it’s not like you have a lot of cleaning up to do, so it doesn’t take you very long to take care of everything. As a result, it’s not long before you find yourself with nothing to do again.

Deciding you might as well see what’s going on with the students rather than try to find something else to do at the dorm, you head outside and make your way to the auditorium where Class 1-A is currently practicing. Not long after you start walking, a sound you’re not used to hearing on campus reaches your ears.

Your brows furrow. Am I hearing....barking?

Confused, you turn toward the direction the sound is coming from and see a brown and white bulldog running toward you at top speed. All you can do is stare at it with wide eyes. A dog?! Where in the world did a dog come from?!

As you’re mentally questioning his origins, the bulldog finally reaches his destination and starts running around you, giving you a little woof every so often. By the looks of it, the animal seems very excited to see you.

Once you realize that, your shocked expression fades, replaced with an excited one. “Awww, you’re so cute! Come here, boy!”

When you kneel down and outstretch your arms, the dog doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation. You start giggling as he licks your face. “That tickles!”

For the next several minutes, you just pet the animal while showering him with compliments. Eventually, once you get over your excitement caused from meeting and interacting with a dog for the first time, you remember how strange this situation is. “It’s not unusual to see cats on campus since cats can pretty much get anywhere, but the same can’t be said for dogs. How in the world did you get here? You have a collar, so you’re obviously someone’s pet. Do you belong to someone here on campus?”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t get an actual answer from the bulldog just a soft woof. Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to realize there’s someone who could get a proper response from the animal.

Smiling, you rise to your feet and motion for the dog to follow you. “Follow me! I know just the guy we need!”

Fortunately, you have no issues getting the bulldog to come along with you. Despite how enthusiastic he was to see you, you had thought he might not want to follow you to the gymnasium, but by the looks of it, the pet has no problem with accompanying you.

It’s when you both eventually come to a stop right outside the gymnasium that an idea comes to mind. “I wonder if you know any tricks.”

Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to try, you face the bulldog and hold out your hand toward him with your palm facing downwards. “Sit!”

A grin forms on your lips when the dog immediately sits down. “Good boy! Now, roll over!”

When he does just that, you clap your hands together before holding out one to him. “Shake!”

Your grin grows when he places his paw in your hand. “Amazing! You’re so well trained! What a good dog you are! I really wish I had some treats to give you!”

After you say that, the bulldog gives you a look that can only be described as being disappointed, making you feel really guilty. “Aw, please don’t look at me like that! I’m not used to meeting dogs, so I never thought to have dog treats on hand!”

Since your words don’t seem to appease the animal, you come up with an idea to hopefully cheer him up. “How about I learn how to make some doggy treats? I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that they can be made at home, so all I’d need to do is look up a good recipe. Once I find one I think I can do, I’ll make a batch and bring them to you. How’s that sound?”

Considering how the dog is now energetically circling you, you think he likes your idea a lot. Giggling, you move to open the door to the gymnasium, allowing the bulldog to enter first before you follow after him.

Shortly after you walk into the gym, you hear Aizawa’s voice addressing you. “Care to explain why you brought Vlad’s dog to the gym?”

You do a slow blink. “This is Vlad-san’s dog?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know whose dog it was? Then, how the hell did you find it?”

While Midnight and Yagi take turns petting the bulldog, you move to approach the underground hero. “I didn’t find him. He found me. I was just walking over here from the dorm when he suddenly came running toward me out of nowhere. Since he’s not wearing any tags, I thought I’d ask Kouda who he belonged to, but I guess I don’t need to now.”

Aizawa sighs, “Not quite. We still have no idea why the dog is running free when Vlad should currently be off campus for hero work.”

Guess Kouda’s assistance will be needed after all. Before you can offer to go find the quiet boy, Ectoplasm says one of his clones has already told Kouda to start heading your way. How convenient.

Not long after that, a confused Kouda comes to a stop in front of you and Aizawa. He takes turns looking in between the two of you and the bulldog which is currently being doted on by the other teachers much to your amusement and Aizawa’s exasperation. 

The corners of your lips curve upwards. “Sorry to take you away from your training, Kouda, but we were hoping you could shed a little light on this situation. I found Vlad-san’s dog running free on my way here, but according to Aizawa-san, Vlad-san should be off campus right now. So, we’re wondering how his dog got out. Do you think you could ask him for us?”

Nodding, Kouda walks over to the bulldog and kneels down in front of him. You watch fascinated as the two hold a conversation that you can only understand half of all the while wondering what exactly the dog is saying.

A few minutes later, Kouda pets the animal’s head before rising to his feet and turning to face you. “Wally says that Vlad-sensei left his class in charge of him while Vlad-sensei was gone. Since it’s such a nice day, Vlad-sensei didn’t want to leave Wally cooped up inside all day, so he asked Class 1-B to look after him.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “Obviously, they’re doing a great job at that considering where he is now. Did he explain how he ended up with Y/N?”

Kouda scratches his cheek. “It seems he ran away from Class 1-B while they were distracted. Wally said he smelt a delicious scent and went after it which eventually brought him to Y/N-sensei.”

An amused huff passes your lips. “I guess he smelled what I made for lunch and wanted a bite for himself.”

Wally barks in response to your words, making most of the teachers snort. Kouda hides a smile behind his hand as he nods his head to show that the bulldog is agreeing with you. 

With a sigh, Aizawa tiredly runs a hand down his face. “Most likely, Class 1-B is currently running around campus frantically looking for him, hoping to find him before Vlad gets back.”

Midnight laughs, “Oh yeah definitely. Those kids are in for some hellish training if he comes back and finds out they lost his dog. His training will make yours look like a walk in the park.”

Taking pity on Class 1-B, you decide you should ensure that doesn’t happen. “Then, I better hurry and get Wally back to them before it’s too late. I really don’t wanna see what training that’s more hellish than Aizawa-san’s looks like.”

A large scary grin appears on the underground hero’s face. “I dunno. Might be good inspiration for what I can do next for Class 1-A. Maybe we should just sit back and watch the show.”

As Kouda goes pale, you shake your head before gently patting the quiet boy’s arm. “It’s alright, Kouda. That won’t happen ‘cause I’m gonna take Wally back now. Thank you for translating for us.”

After giving you a shy smile, your student hurries back to the pillar that he was training on earlier. Meanwhile, you approach Wally who appears to be enjoying all the attention he’s getting from the teachers. “Alright, Wally, let’s go find Class 1-B. I bet they’re going crazy looking for you.”

Ectoplasm chuckles, “I think that’s an understatement. They’re likely looking for him like their lives depend on it.”

Cementoss nods, “Thankfully, Vlad should still be off campus, so if you hurry, I think you’ll be able to return Wally to his class before he can find out.”

Midnight smirks as she rises from her crouched position beside Wally. “Of course, that is if no one here tells Vlad.”

A frown forms on your lips as you wag a disapproving finger at her. “Midnight-san…”

She pouts, “Come on, Y/N. Let me have a little fun. I wanna tease them a little bit.”

While the other teachers shake their heads, Yagi sighs, “I don’t think that’s something a teacher should be saying, Midnight-kun.”

Her pout deepens. “You guys are no fun! Live a little!”

Aizawa just rolls his eyes. “Hurry up and get the dog to where he’s supposed to be, Y/N. The sooner this mess is taken care of, the better.”

Nodding, you motion for the bulldog to follow you out of the gymnasium. Once you’re outside, you decide to head for the 1-B dorm, figuring you’re more likely to find some 1-B students there even though you’re sure a lot of them are currently running around campus looking for Wally.

Not long after you start walking toward the dorm, you hear familiar voices shouting in the distance.

“Wally! Here boy!”

“Wally!”

You give the aforementioned dog, who remains at your side, an amused look before heading in the direction of the voices. That’s how you eventually find a frantic Tsuburaba and a strangely calm Honenuki. 

When they notice your approach and see who’s walking beside you, both boys’ eyes widen in surprise. Relief quickly replaces the surprise as they immediately run over to where you’re now standing.

“Miracles do exist! We’re actually gonna live to see tomorrow!”

“See? I told you things would work out in the end.”

“You were the only one who thought that, Honenuki! I still don’t know how you could be calm while I was literally starting to see my life flash before my eyes!”

The corners of your lips curve upwards. “Lose somebody, boys?”

Honenuki sheepishly smiles as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, actually. Vlad-sensei asked us to look after his dog today, but he slipped away while we weren’t looking. Has he been with you all this time, Sensei?”

Nodding, you crouch down so you can pet the bulldog. “According to Kouda, Wally ran off ‘cause he smelled a delicious scent which happened to be coming from me. Apparently, he was very interested in what I made for lunch.”

While the taller student chuckles, Tsuburaba snorts, “Can’t say I blame him. But, I still wanna complain about him almost giving me a heart attack.”

An amused huff passes your lips. “Well, just let this be a lesson to you guys that whoever’s in charge of watching Wally better keep an extra close eye on him from now on.”

Both boys quickly nod their heads at your words. After you see that, you bring your gaze back to Wally. “And, you be a good boy and don’t run off anymore, okay, Wally? These kids are too young to be having heart attacks, you know.”

Wally gives you an acknowledging woof which hopefully means he will. Figuring you better let the students take over from here, you bid goodbye to the boys and turn to head back to the gymnasium.

Those plans are quickly derailed when, rather than stay with the kids, Wally follows after you and starts running around you. All you can do is stare at the dog with obvious confusion. “Uh, Wally? You’re supposed to go back with Honenuki and Tsuburaba, not me.”

Tsuburaba tries to grab the bulldog but is unsuccessful. “Come on, Wally! You gotta come back with us! Haven’t you already played enough with Sensei?”

With a bark, Wally evades capture again all the while remaining close to where you’re standing, watching the events unfold before you with a mixture of confusion and amusement. Meanwhile, Honenuki rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I guess Wally wants to hang out with her more. In that case, Sensei, would you be willing to come back with us to the dorm? Maybe Wally will be more willing to part with you if he got to spend some more time with you first.”

Since you don’t have any other plans this afternoon, you don’t see the harm in agreeing with his request. Besides, you wouldn’t be opposed to spending time with Class 1-B and Wally.

Just as you open your mouth to agree, an idea comes to mind that makes you grin. “Actually, I have an even better idea in mind.”

You quickly turn around and start walking in the direction of the front gate. “Come on, boys! We’re going shopping!”

Wally barks excitedly before quickly running after you. Meanwhile, the two surprised students share a confused look. 

Shrugging, Honenuki calmly follows after you. “I have no idea where this is going, but I guess we’ll be finding out soon enough. Better text the others so they’ll know they don’t need to keep searching for Wally.”

As his taller classmate is pulling out his cellphone, Tsuburaba just sighs, “Sometimes, I worry that you’re too flexible in your thinking, Honenuki. At least, consider questioning where the hell she’s taking us.”

A grin appears on Honenuki’s face. “Rather than worry about that, maybe you should think about how the rest of the class we’ll react once they realize who we’re with, especially one particular classmate of ours.”

There’s a brief pause before a matching grin forms on the other boy’s lips. “Oh hell yes. This is gonna be hilarious. I cannot wait to see his reaction.”

Because you’re preoccupied with searching for something on your phone, you completely miss the students’ conversation. You eventually don a triumphant grin when you finally find what you were looking for on the Internet. “Got it! Now, all we need are ingredients!” 

Tsuburaba raises an eyebrow. “Ingredients for what exactly?”

Your grin grows. “Doggy treats! Since I promised to try making some for Wally earlier, I thought I might as well give it a try while hanging out at the 1-B dorm. Learning how to cook something new is always a fun way to pass the time!”

As if to show his agreement, Wally woofs as he excitedly runs around you. Seeing this, Honenuki chuckles, “Well, Wally seems to be all for the idea.”

His classmate snorts, “Can’t say I’m surprised. Considering how good Sensei is at cooking human food, I bet that dog is about to get some of the best treats he’s ever had.”

You reach over to ruffle his hair. “Aww, thanks, Tsuburaba. I’m flattered you think so highly of my cooking.”

While a flush colors Tsuburaba’s cheeks, Honenuki grins, “You won a lot of people in our class over with those eclairs you made, Sensei. Awase was just the most vocal about it.”

With a laugh, you clasp your hands behind your back. “In that case, we’ll need to buy more ingredients so everyone at the 1-B dorm can have a tasty treat.”

You wink at the two boys. “I’ll let you boys be in charge of deciding what we make for your class. You can request whatever you want.”

Both students’ faces brighten at your words. A large grin quickly forms on the brown haired boy’s lips. “Hell yes. This is gonna be awesome. I take back all the complaints I made earlier about losing Wally. That near heart attack was totally worth it.”

Honenuki smiles, “Things worked out even better than I expected. I always love when that happens.”

Your expression turns amused. “Just don’t make a habit of losing him, okay? You managed to avoid Vlad-san finding out this time. You might not be so lucky next time.”

Tsuburaba quickly shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I love how this turned out, but I am never allowing myself to be put through that torture again. If we ever have to babysit Wally again, I’ll keep an eye on him the whole time myself if I have to.”

While an amused Honenuki nods his head in agreement, you look down at Wally and giggle, “You hear that, Wally? No more disappearing acts for you.”

Wally barks before breaking off into a sprint. You blink in surprise as the dog runs off into the distance while a cursing Tsuburaba chases after him. 

“Dammit, Wally! That wasn’t a challenge! Get back here!”

As the brown haired boy goes after the bulldog, who is thankfully still heading in the direction of UA’s front gate, you turn to give a strangely calm Honenuki, who remains at your side, an amused look. “Looks like you guys have your work cut out for you.”

Honenuki huffs in amusement. “I think those dog treats you plan on making are gonna come in real handy in the near future.”

His response makes you laugh. “Guess I better make a lot just in case, huh?”

At that moment, the sound of Tsuburaba’s voices reaches your ears. “Wally! Quit chasing that squirrel! You’re going the wrong way!”

The taller boy scratches his cheek. “Yeah, the more, the better.”

All you can do is shake your head. Oh well, you were looking for something to keep yourself preoccupied today, and this situation definitely fits the bill.

At least, now you won’t have to worry about being bored.

[ladybugsfanfics]

Strangers On A Train [2] | Tom Hiddleston x reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Style: Originally a drabble (here), but this is part two

WC: 2308

Warning: Pining, so much pining, really this is the most pining I’ve written

Summary: Original drabble is based on this prompt :“we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine” - prompt source, part two is for @sabine-leo‘s 1,5K follower celeberation writing challenge (congrats btw <3) and my prompt was the setting “sleepless nights” so here u have one long sleepless night

A/N: Uhh, so this became so much longer than the first part and I’m in love with it and really proud of what I wrote and kind of ready for a part three if you guys want that.. ^_^

If you wanna be added or removed from my taglist, please let me know ^_^

Part One  | My Masterlist

Your phone vibrates where it lies next to you on the couch, carelessly thrown when you got home. It’s a text, or more a reply to the smiley you sent that morning to let the stranger on the tube know you got his note. 

It bubbles lightly in your stomach and a smile grows on your lips. However, not sure how to reply, you put it back down and let your attention follow to where it had been. The TV plays an episode of The Big Bang Theory. You didn’t really follow it when it first came on, but now, your mind travels to another place entirely. 

Last night’s tube ride had, after all, been very different from the usual. But it had been nice, way too nice. The disappointment in not seeing him on the tube ride home today is still at the bottom of your gut. There’s just something about him, something about the way he held onto you, made you feel safe. It’s unlike anything you have ever felt before. 

Your phone starts ringing, the vibration affecting the couch and making an annoying sound that scares you enough to jump. You take it up and see the name flash. Stranger From The Tube

Something stirs in your gut as you stare at the screen. The smile you had grows wider, and you shake your head before you slide it and answer. You carefully put the phone to your ear, and say a small ‘hi’. 

“Hi,” comes from the other line. A voice as soothing as when you first heard it. “It’s Tom,” he adds. 

You chuckle. “I saw that.” You bite down on your lip, trying to keep from saying something stupid. “Why did you call?” 

He lets out a sigh, a huff more like it, with a small ‘hehe’ laugh. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” The line goes quiet. You can hear his breathing on the other side, and just that has the hairs on your neck stand. “I guess I couldn’t… I couldn’t wait to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” you say, “we didn’t really get to talk before.”

“Not with you half asleep on my shoulder, no,” he says and chuckles. “Do you maybe want to go out for a drink? Tomorrow night?”

Your words get stuck in your throat. How do you say yes without sounding like you couldn’t wait? Without feeling like you sound desperate (to be honest, you are kind of touch starved)?

“Or does that not work?” His voice sounds smaller, insecure. 

“No, no, no,” you hurry, “it works great.” A mental reprimand to not use too long to answer, flies through your head. “I… I was just thinking, uh, that the night is…” You purse your lips. “... still young.”

You pinch your eyes shut. Your heartbeat loud in your ears and your breathing gone because, god you just proposed that, and you don’t know if you can breathe before you hear his answer. 

“Oh,” he says, “sound great. Meet at your tube stop in an hour?” 

You nod furiously, biting your lips to keep from squealing. Only to realize this is a phone conversation and he can’t see you. You take a deep breath. “Yeah, that sound lovely. See you in an hour?”

“See you in an hour.” The line clicks and the conversation is over. 

If he could see you now, the big smile on your face and knew how hot you felt, he would cancel. You’re sure of it, but instead of pondering whether or not he actually likes you, you rush out of the couch, turn off the TV and get to the bathroom. 

Before going out, there are some things that need to be done. 

Shower. You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower. Every bit of you is cleaned, and despite knowing time is short, you still take the time to shave. You’re not even contemplating not doing so. 

Make-up. Most of the time, make-up isn’t that important. Some mascara goes a long way, and you don’t use much more now either. You use some eyeshadow, a natural matte nude palette that blends in with your skin tone. You pair it with some mascara and eyeliner, making your eyes pop. And as a final touch, you find your favorite red lipstick and apply it. Happy with how you look, you move on to the next step. 

Clothes. What the hell are you supposed to wear? The make-up alone is much, but also kind of natural and toned down. How do you pair that with something cute, yet showing you want to get to know this guy? In the end, you pick a black button down dress that ties around the waist, and even though it fits rather loosely, shows off your figure. You’d recently bought it as something casual you could wear to a birthday party, and this is the first time you get to use it. Studying yourself in the long mirror in your bedroom, you have no problem thinking you look cute. 

Shoes. The dress being casual, and the knowing that’ll you’ll walk and probably stand, calls for something else than high heels. So, going rather tomboy-ish, you pair it with a pair of flat, black sneakers that match the dress. The soles are white and gives some color to the otherwise black outfit. 

Hair. And the best for last, you style your hair. You let it fall naturally, spray it to get some style in it, and when you’re happy with the look, you smile at yourself in the mirror. 

Seeing the clock, you have about two minutes before the hour is up. You search around your apartment for a little purse to go with the outfit, trying desperately to find something small yet able to have a phone, keys and wallet. It takes two minutes, but you finally find a black one that you’re happy with. One last look in the mirror, you smile happily and get out. 

It’s fortunate it takes about five minutes to walk, because if it took more, you’d be a lot more late than you want to. Five minutes is within reasonable time, especially for a spontaneous ...date? 

You get to the tube station and look around. The man you’re meeting stands off to the side of the entrance. Seeing him, you get even happier with what you picked out. He wears a pair of black jeans, tucked in is black shirt that clings to his body and the arms are rolled up to his elbows, and a jacket slung over his arm. You hadn’t even thought of taking with you a jacket. Maybe if you get cold, he’ll let you borrow his. 

With light, nervous steps you walk towards him. A nervous purse of your lips as you stop and say hi. He smiles, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s eyes study you from top to toe. It lingers a little on your lips, his tongue just out for a second, before he finds your eyes. Every part of your body feels like it’s on fire. 

“Hi,” he breathes. “You look… wonderful.”

Your gut churns and you resist the urge to bite your lips. “Thanks,” you say. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His smile widens, and he offers his arm. “Shall we walk?” 

You nod, and take the arm he offers. The touch of his skin against yours is pleasant, a slight burn that traces its way up to your neck and down your spine. The chill air helps, as you would rather not start to sweat. Yet, at least. 

The two of you walk in silence, steering into the tube and getting ready to fine one that gets you to the city centre. In little time, you step off and walk into the city night. You’ve let go of Tom’s arm, but you still walk close. Every once in a while, your hands brush and a shot of electricity courses through you. 

“Where would you like to go?” asks Tom. He casts a glance your way. 

You tilt your head up to glance at him, and catching his stare, you divert it back down and purse your lips. Why is your heart beating so fast? “Uhh, I don’t… I don’t have any…”

“Any preference?” he asks. 

You nod, a blush creeping its way into your cheeks. The heat feels like too much, especially mixed with the constant heat of your skin whenever you accidentally touch. 

He smiles and lets out a small laugh. “What about…” He looks around and his eyes land on a place. “...there?” A long finger points at it. 

“Sound nice,” you reply. 

--

11.38 PM

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, really. I don’t know why, but he did that.”

“Oh, but you did that other thing, right?”

“Shh, we don’t talk about that.”

“Of course we don’t. You wouldn’t do anything stupid, would you?”

“Fuck off.”

--

12.52 AM

“A hat? She got upset for a hat?”

“Oh, yeah, I can’t say why, but the hat meant something.”

“The hat meant something. What did it mean? That it was supposed to be on her head?”

Laughter. “No, apparently, it meant to be in the sea.”

--

02.23 AM

“What? You don’t want to dance?”

“No, that’s not really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Talking. Getting to know someone. Laughing.”

“Those are some great things.”

“Yeah, it’s that and being awkward.”

Laughter.

“You’re not awkward.”

“Oh, sure, because I know how to speak. Yeah.”

“You haven’t been awkward the times I’ve met you.”

“You met me exhausted on a tube where I literally sat on you, and today, where I’ve gotten alcohol.”

“There was no alcohol for four hours ago.”

“No, but there was no conversation either.”

“That’s not a criteria for something to not be awkward.”

“Well, I am, deal with it.”

“Now, what you do have is attitude. Not in a bad way.”

--

04.12 AM

You fiddle with the keys for a moment before the apartment becomes unlocked. Inside, you take off your shoes and lay down your little purse on your coffee table. Tom follows right behind, taking off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat stand. 

“You want something to drink?” you ask and take a wine bottle out of the fridge. Before he’s even answered, you set down two glasses on the counter. 

Tom comes into the kitchen. He leans against the counter, “that would be lovely.” His gaze travels over you as you pour the glasses, and you shiver at the feeling. As with the whole night, your body responds to how he acts, how he speaks, and you love every minute of it. 

“Here,” you say and hand him one of the glasses. He takes it and your fingers graze, sending your heart into overdrive and setting your skin on fire. 

You move to the living room, and you sit down on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you―making sure your dress covers you and doesn’t show anything you don’t want shown. Tom sits down close by, his knee touches yours. Neither of you pull away from the touch. 

“What were we talking about again?” you ask him. 

He chuckles lightly. “About my work, I think.” 

You nod. “Yeah. An actor and a pretty famous one, too.” Something flickers in his eyes, but you don’t catch what it is. “How is that?”

“Exciting. Tiring. And every bit as fun as when I started out.” Tom smiles, it grows fond as he talks. Fonder and fonder as he retells stories, and talk about the friends he’s made. You listen intently as he speaks. Eyes flicker between his lips and his blue-green eyes that burn with a passion. 

The night continues. You talk about everything, about nothing. Stories from your childhood, stories from now. Those little details. Those small things that mean something. 

And suddenly, the night is over. 

The clock reads eight AM. Tom chuckles at it and stands up. You follow him to the door, lean against the wall as he puts on his shoes and grabs his jacket. 

“I had a great time.” He balances back and forth on his feet and puts his hands in his pockets as you stop leaning, a smile on his face that you return without hesitation. 

“Yeah, me too.” You bite your lip and look down on the floor, on your feet. You glance back up at him. “We should do it again sometime.”

He nods. “We should.”

Neither of you say anything. He moves to the door and turns the lock. Tom looks back at you and you smile at him. Your gazes lock. His flicker down to your lips, his tongue takes a quick trip out. You smile, wanting him to take that step. 

“Bye,” he says and opens the door. 

You move to close it as he walks out. “Bye,” you say. Your heart pounds in your chest, nervousness courses through your veins and hope keeps you from uttering more words (or sounds) than you want.

He lingers in the doorway. You’re closer now, closer than the moment before. Your heartbeat pulses inside your head, your throat feels tight. Just lean in, it’s not that hard. But you don’t move. 

Neither does he. Instead you stare at each other, both lick your lips. 

“You have my number,” you say, and tiptoe up to kiss his cheek. 

He nods. “I do.” And with a smile, he walks away. 

You look after him. Your pounding heart not slowing down, and your brain telling you to run after and kiss him. On the lips. But you don’t. You watch as he turns smaller, and you feel the butterflies in your gut. And you know, with a hundred percent certainty, that you’ve met the love of your life. 

NEXT PART!

Permanent tags:  @devilbat @adefectivedetective

Tom tags:  @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress 

[shedreamsofstars]

Subtlety, Thy Name Is Sonic

“Sorry I’m late Ames,” Sonic said guiltily as he dropped onto the couch beside her. “I got a little caught up with some bots and stuff on the way over. You know how it is.”

“I do, and it’s fine. I’m just glad you made it,” Amy replied, offering up a kind smile.

“Did I miss much?” Sonic said, nodding towards the movie that was currently playing across the screen. He squinted at it as he tried to place what was going on. “What are we watching again?”

“It’s some old silent movie about dancing I think. I’m not too sure but the dances are really good. You haven’t missed too much.”

“Alright, sounds cool,” Sonic said, shuffling on the couch to get more comfortable as he turned to flash her a smile. Amy responded in kind but that look on his face was so magnetic that she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Not until she’d taken a good look at him.

Forget the movie.

With Sonic’s windswept quills and bold green eyes, Amy could have dreamily stared at him all night. Perhaps she would she thought, biting her lip as the hint of a sigh escaped her. The sound was loud enough for the boy to pick up and he turned to look at her.

It didn’t take him long to realise that she wasn’t paying much attention to the movie. Then again neither was he as his eyes roamed her face, slow and languorous. Her heart skipped a beat as his gaze drifted down to her lips before flicking away quickly.

He did it once more before training his eyes on hers, an endless collision of greens, but it wasn’t until Amy arched a brow at him questioningly that he seemed to notice just what he was doing. Or how close she actually was. Close enough to study every minute movement of his face as he chuckled nervously at the attention.

“You mind if I … uh,” he said, scratching at the back of his head as he spoke.

Amy hummed in response, waiting for him to finish the rest of his sentence but the boy was silent. Her brows dipped into a frown as his gaze drifted down again and she followed suit, staring at the bowl of snacks sitting on her lap.

“Oh, did you want some popcorn?” she asked brightly, holding the bowl out towards him. “Here, help yourself.”

Sonic glanced between her lips and the bowl, mouth ajar as if caught in an objection but the only word that escaped was a simple thanks. His lips were pursed tightly as he reached out and gingerly plucked off the topmost piece of popped corn. The blew hero let it fall carelessly into his mouth, crunching on it loudly.

“It’s sweet,” he remarked offhandedly, releasing a sigh so deep that Amy could see the rise and fall of his chest. She bit back a smirk, humming in response as she turned back towards the movie.

The pictures flashed across the screen, but Amy wasn’t seeing any of them. Her mind was stuck on the boy beside her. She knew perfectly well that Sonic wasn’t after popcorn, but she also wasn’t going to indulge his avoidance of his own feelings.

She had fallen for his ploys time after time, but not this time. No. If he wanted a kiss form her, then he was going to have to suck it up and ask her for it. This time she’d play him for the fool until he had no choice but to speak his mind.

A strong arm draped over her shoulder and pulled her a little bit closer to the boy. There was still a significant amount of space between them, but the act alone was enough to send her cheeks blazing. His fingers dug gently into her upper arm, sending searing sparks up and down her body.

She was struggling to focus on the movie when the fingers moved to her shoulder, rapping against it insistently. Amy glanced to the side to see Sonic looking terribly confused. “I think I have something on my lip. Would you mind checking for me?”

Amy was close enough to see that there was quite clearly nothing on his lip - nothing but a clear-cut lie that was. “Sure,” she said with a casual shrug. She leaned in towards him, so close that if she had wanted to, she could have given him exactly what he had really been after.

If she had wanted to that was, which right now she didn’t. That would be too easy. but it didn’t means he couldn’t be a tease about it.

Slowly, the girl lifted a thumb to the edge of his mouth. She let it graze over his skin in a gentle stroke, noticing just how soft Sonic’s lips truly were. She resisted the urge to just give in and drop a quick peck onto them, but Amy kept herself under control.

Sonic on the other hand didn’t seem to hold the same reservations. He drifted towards her touch with desire in his eyes, but before he could turn the moment into something else Amy pulled back abruptly.

“Huh, that’s strange. I can’t see anything on your lip,” she said coolly. “It must just be a trick of the air or something.” With that she turned back to the dancers twirling across the screen, savouring the thrill of being chased for something for a change.

Beside her, Amy felt the other hedgehog flop against the back of the sofa in irritation. He’d come so close, and yet somehow, he had still failed. His hand landed on the couch beside hers and his fingers began drumming against the fabric as he no doubt pondered his next move.

It wasn’t long before the drumming stopped, and the boy cleared his throat with purpose. It started with a simple cough, but it only took moments before it devolved into hacking so loud that Amy was forced to pull her eyes away from the movie to make sure the boy wasn’t losing a lung.

“Sonic, are you okay?” she asked.

The blue hero toned down the coughs enough for him to shake his head and wheeze a simple “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked when he forced another cough. “You look like you could do with some water …” Amy trailed off. Chaos knew his thirsty ass needed it.

“Actually, I think some chocolate might help,” Sonic said, a curious glint in the forests of his eyes. “It’s supposed to be good for tickly throats,” he added, cough miraculously vanishing.

Amy bit her lip as she wondered where Sonic was going with this. “Yeah, it is. I have some in the kitchen,” she said, deciding to play along for the time being.

“Some Hershey’s would be great if you have them,” Sonic said pointedly.

Hershey’s kisses. Of course. Amy mentally facepalmed herself for not catching on to his cryptic clue sooner. The boy seemed to be getting bolder and bolder, although she still hadn’t actually heard him utter the word ‘kiss’ itself.

“I’m not sure I have and but let’s go check,” she said, standing and leading the way to the kitchen down the hall. The boy followed after, a barely concealed pout gracing his lips as she pretended to scour the pantry for chocolates she knew weren’t there.

“I’m sorry Sonic, it seems like I’m all out of … Hershey’s,” Amy said eventually, mustering an air of disappointment as she closed the wooden door. “It looks like you’re just going to have to settle for gargling some good old-fashioned ginger infused salt water.”

Sonic’s face dropped instantly. He took an involuntary step away from her with his hands up in defence. “Don’t worry about it Ames, I’m sure it’s nothing anyway,” he stammered, regret flashing through his eyes faster than he could run.

“Are you scared of a little medicine hedgehog?” Amy teased, pointing at him accusingly.

Sonic lowered his hands, straightening his posture. “Of course not,” he scoffed, puffing out his chest with a grumble Amy couldn’t quite make out. “I don’t need that garbage water to make myself feel better.”

“Oh, yeah? Don’t tell me you’re just going to miraculously fix yourself with positivity.”

Or in this particularly case, by doing absolutely nothing. There was nothing wrong with his throat, but Amy was curious just how far he’d go to avoid having to take some herbal concoction he couldn’t stand.

“Well the chocolate was just a bonus, it’s really the sugar that soothes,” Sonic drawled, making sure to get his point across. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was starting to lose his patience.

Just a little more.

“Oh. I used up the last of the cane sugar making the popcorn.”

“Any type of sugar will do,” Sonic countered.

“Really? Because I think icing sugar will just irritate your throat even more,” Amy said matter-of-factly, placing a thoughtful finger on her cheek.

“That’s … not the kind I meant,” Sonic grumbled.

“Did you want … honey?”

A frustrated growl escaped the blue hedgehog. “God Amy, why won’t you just kiss me!?” The boy scrunched his face up in annoyance, pointing around himself like a madman before deflating with a sigh.

Laughter bubbled out of Amy as she rushed towards Sonic, circling her hands around his neck even as he scowled down his nose at her. She bumped her nose with his affectionately and his frown loosened a fraction.

“You wanted a kiss? Gosh, I had no idea. Well, if that was all you wanted hedgehog, then you should have just said so sooner,” she said with a smile. The boy’s gaze turned sheepish and she felt him shrug against her.

“I … tried?” he offered, letting his forehead rest against hers as he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace. Amy smiled brightly up at him.

“Try again,” she said quietly, closing her eyes as she waited for him to say the words she needed. A moment passed with nothing but the sound of soft breathing between them, but then Sonic shifted. One hand came up under her chin, lifting her face up so their lips were barely touching.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, voice nothing but an echo on the wind as it brushed up against her. But that echo was all she needed.

... xxx ...

Oooff, I have been editing this for weeks (literally) and I’m *finally* happy with it! (curse you lack of motivation) I originally posted an drabble version of this on the sonamy discord but I really wanted to develop it a little more so lo and behold the above.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to let me know your thoughts if you have the time. Until next time lovelies, chao :)

[tauntaun-rider]

I realize that I’ve been posting rather sporadically, and I'm sorry about that. (Moment of real life honesty here: The combination of chronic pain and debilitating depression is not something that I would wish on anyone.) However, I am not here to apologize or vent, but to share something.

So, I have a folder in the Notes app on my phone where I occasionally write drabbles about my OCs that will maybe one day be turned into something. There’s one in particular about my Agent that I not only finished, but nitpicked to death. I finally decided to bite the bullet and post it to my pithy AO3 account. (Because what better time is there to face your fears than 2:00/3:00 AM?)

Here is the link: Shadows and Regrets.

Below the cut is the beginning to the first chapter. (There are three actual chapters and the fourth acts as an epilogue of sorts.)

I hope anyone that takes the time to read it enjoys!

CHAPTER ONE

This is too risky. This can only backfire. You'll end up with a blaster hole in your head. At best.

Rae bit her lip and looked down at the letter she had been writing and rewriting on her datapad during her free time over the last few evenings. Everything she had experienced since initially joining Imperial Intelligence brought her to the same conclusion: delivering this letter had the potential to yield catastrophic results. Not just for her, but for her crew and her husband as well.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man peacefully sleeping in the bedroll on the floor of the tent they shared. Rae took in his tousled black hair and the hint of a smile on his lips and couldn’t help but smile herself.

Her husband.

Rae never even considered the possibility of finding someone to love that would love her in return. Being an agent in the shadows ensured that she would be alone. Or so she thought. Vector changed all of that.

There wasn't a single person that she trusted as she trusted him. Vector knew she was working on the letter and who would be its recipient, if all went as planned. He understood it was something she needed to do, or at least try to do, to bring herself some peace. And most importantly, he supported her decision, despite the colossal risk.

Convinced that the letter couldn't be better phrased and willing to accept its consequences, Rae saved the final draft of the letter to the datachip she'd already prepared and turned off her datapad. After sliding it into her duffel bag, she slipped on her boots and stepped out of the tent into the muggy Yavin-4 night. A breeze lifted the wavy, emerald locks that refused to fit in her bun away from her face as it meandered through the makeshift camp.

There was a clear divide between the tents: Republic on the right and Empire on the left. It seemed only fair, as the truce was temporary while the combined forces worked to bring down Revan before he revived the Sith Emperor.

Rae wandered through the camp to the back corner, away from the tension that existed even in slumber. She had come to sit by the pond almost every night since they had arrived on Yavin. Vector had accompanied her a few times, but he seemed to understand that she needed space to break free of the invisible ropes that pulled her in every direction, if only for a little while, and merely held her hand while they sat in silence.

Rae sat on a reasonably flat rock at the water's edge and pulled her knees up to her chest. She laid her forearms on top of her knees and rested her chin on top of the tower of limbs. The letter and its implications kept overpowering any other thoughts she had and thwarted her attempts at meditation.

Her frustration was interrupted by the sound of twigs snapping beneath boots as someone walked toward her cozy nook. Her head lifted off her arms with a jolt as she strained to hear any noises that would identify who it was. Out of habit, she reached down to grab the vibroknife hidden in her boot before mentally chastising herself and putting her arm back on top of her knees.

"Can't sleep either?" Theron asked as he took a seat next to her. His normal faux hawk was a bit misshapen and he still wore his clothes from the previous day.

She nodded, gazing out at the stillness of the water.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Your hair was kind of glowing in the moonlight," he chuckled.

Rae turned her head towards him and smiled. She thought of their first meeting. Their first verbal communication occurred while she was stuck on a research center on Manaan that was on the verge of being entirely submerged. Theron had directed her via comm to the only remaining emergency pod, while going out of his way to point out that a Pub was saving her life.

After escaping unscathed, Rae and Vector, both still slightly sodden from the ordeal, walked into the hidden base that Lana had procured for their mission to find the new, unlikely allies huddled over a table covered in datapads and sheets of flimsy. Theron said he didn't need to know who she was, but insisted on introducing himself anyway. Rae, both tired of his attitude and in need of a laugh after the near-death experience, made a mildly flirty comment in an attempt to break down his brash exterior. In some strange way, that seemed to decrease some of the early tension between them.

Despite that initial experience, she had every reason not to trust him. After all, her stint as a double agent didn't exactly go smoothly. And he, who she assumed had no knowledge of her past experiences with the SIS, had no reason to trust her either.

Yet somehow, they had forged an unusual bond. Rae initially thought it was a polite courtesy, as they had the same goal of uncovering the Revanites' plot and were in the same line of work. But the more time they spent together on Rishi, the more she got to know him as a person. She was surprised to find that they actually had a lot in common. Just in the first few days alone, she discovered that they both hated undercover work on Nar Shaddaa, they both were uncomfortable with having to use seduction as a means of gathering information in the field, and that they both preferred working alone whenever possible.

They shared some embarrassing stories from being undercover, without the confidential details, of course. Rae shared the story of her first time pretending to be a pirate while on Hutta, while Theron told her about one mission in which he ended up running around an Imperial battle cruiser in his underwear. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to hold in the giggles that threatened to pour out and avoid waking Lana. Rae still distinctly remembered the way Theron's eyes had narrowed at her and how his frown conveyed an impressive amount of disapproval while she shook with barely concealed laughter. After a few moments, however, he lightened up and the frown turned into a vaguely amused, self-deprecating smirk.

She recalled another night when they stayed up late talking about the lives they led. Always working, always keeping a distance from other people, always being on high alert and looking for threats. It was nice to talk to someone who understood; no one else in her life really comprehended the toll it took on her the way he did. She learned a bit about how he ended up in the SIS, and she told a bit of her unusual spy origin story as well. Rae felt rather comfortable talking to him, even though he was supposed to be the enemy. She couldn't help not knowing how to feel about the development; he gave every indication that he was experiencing the exact same flurry of confusing emotions.

Rae turned back toward the pond, once again focused on the present.

"What's keeping you up?" she asked.

"Honestly? Pretty much everything. It's all just hitting me now." Theron paused to readjust his position on the rock. "Rishi... Teaming up with a Sith Lord and an Imperial Cipher... Being tortured by my ancestor... The awkwardness with my mother... It's a lot. And after tomorrow, it'll be over. Win or lose, it'll be over."

Rae nodded.

"I don't blame you for being overwhelmed. This strange journey, full of twists and turns, along with pirates and insane cultists, of course... It's taken us across the galaxy and formed what seemed like an impossible alliance. But here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Theron decided to ask her the same question.

"Regrets," she said as she wrapped her arms around her knees. "Too many."

"What, you're regretting all of this now?" He gestured to the camp behind them. "Wishing you had stayed in the shadows instead of getting wrapped up in this madness?" The small smirk on his lips worked as a way to both lighten the mood and prompt her to share more. Rae was well aware of the tactic being used, but indulged him anyway.

"Actually, no. I don't regret any of this. It's led to some... personal revelations. I've made some interesting acquaintances. One might consider them friends, while the focus is on Revan." Rae glanced over at him to see him listening intently. His eyes were widened a bit in surprise, but he wasn't laughing at her or the way she openly admitted to enjoying the experience, which she found oddly relieving.

"Whatever happens," she said softly, "I'm glad I met you, Theron. And thank you for saving my life on Manaan."

He nodded, his hazel eyes focused on her.

"I'm... glad I met you, too. Can't say I was expecting to get along with you after finding out who you were, let alone stay up at night talking to you," he chuckled quietly to himself. "I guess I should also thank you for helping me get the rest of the way out of Revan's stronghold. And having my back with Lana after all that."

Rae raised an eyebrow at the last part.

"Lokin told me what you said to her while I was out," Theron explained. "How you walked that line on my behalf."

Rae knew exactly what line he was referencing: the line between Force users and Force-blind people, or more specifically, the line between Sith and everyone else beneath them. It was one that she personally never cared for very much.

Rae's gaze intensified and the corners of her lips were tugged downward. She could feel her teeth clenching out of habit.

"She had no right to put you in that position. She has no idea what it's like or what it can do to a person." Rae broke eye contact and looked at her reflection in the pond. Even in the stillness of the water, she looked broken. She bit her lip and tried to get the haunting image of Hunter's sneer out of her mind.

"No, she doesn't. But I appreciate that. She could have gone all Sithy on you, and you still took that risk."

Rae tightened her grip on her knees, her knuckles turning pale with the action.

"Sometimes, risks are necessary. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself what you're fighting for in the first place."

She could feel Theron's eyes on her and knew that he was trying to restrain himself from asking what she meant. Before he could ask, she turned toward him.

"Besides, I think it's clear that people have 'gone all Sithy' on me before," Rae added bitterly as she looked down at the scars visible on her chest in her sleeveless tunic. "Lokin thinks my so-called moral compass is going to get me killed one of these days," she laughed.

Theron's eyes followed hers to the web of violet scars and bits of puckered skin just below her collarbone. He had to have noticed it before; she made no move to cover any of it up while on Rishi. However, she had never talked about it openly until now.

Rae stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to head to bed. You should, too."

"Alright. Night, Rae."

"Goodnight, Theron."

Rae walked back to her tent, let herself back in, and pulled off her boots. She slid into the bedroll next to Vector and nestled into his side, pulling him close with one arm across his chest.

Tomorrow would be a big day, indeed.

[lasersheith]

Lasersheith’s Sheith Month 2018 Masterlist

These are also on AO3 if you’d rather check that out instead!

Total word count: 19750

I thought it would be a fun challenge to myself to do all the prompts for Sheith Month as pre-Kerberos fluff/humor drabbles. The original plan was to keep them all under 600 words, but I went over on about half of them lol.

Some of the snippets sound angsty, but I promise all of them are silly and light-hearted and fun.

July 1 - Dynamics // Trust

Trust |  Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 600 

Keith’s hands were barely long enough to hold both handles at the same time, and he was leaning too far to the right. Even with what little he weighed, it still made the delicately balanced machine lilt just enough to throw them off course. “You’re leaning again.” Shiro gently corrected.

July 2 - Training // Headache

Training | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 600

Of course Keith had grown, Shiro had known that he was going to, eventually. He just hadn’t been prepared to notice so acutely. After a brief 4 week training mission in LEO, Shiro had crashed back down to earth and taken his first shaking steps back in 1G only to find the solid ground swept out from underneath of him. The surly, scrawny teen with a chip on his shoulder who would fight you for looking at him sideways had grown into almost a man right before Shiro’s eyes.

And Shiro’s eyes couldn’t tear themselves away.

July 3 - Sandwiches // Drinking

Drinking | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 900

Some junior officers relished their time on the night roster, scouring the halls for cadets out of bed, busting up parties, giving their friends who were still senior cadets loads of demerits just for fun. Shiro was never one of those junior officers. Sure, he’d busted Matt’s chops once or twice to get him back for a dumb prank, but generally he would look the other way and let most things slide when his turn came up on the duty roster.

July 4 - No Prompt/Free Day

I worked on my Sheith big bang fic this day!

July 5 - Guiding Light // Galaxies

Guiding Light | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 800

Shiro was always up early, but Venus was supposed to be rising at 0413 on the nose, and it was a half hour drive followed by at least an hour’s hike to get to the best spot to see it. 0200 was a much more acceptable time to go to bed than wake up, but he quietly made his way to the senior cadets’ barracks and keyed in Keith’s door code just as his watch flipped 0210. Keith was already up, boots on and backpack shouldered, sleepy but excited smile brightening his face.

July 6 - Pre-Kerberos // Post-Voltron

Pre-Kerberos | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 500

The rooftop of the junior officers’ barracks was technically off-limits, though that had never stopped Shiro from sneaking his way up to stargaze or get some fresh air. The past several months he found himself drawn to the roof more and more; just off the southwest corner the upper stage of the SLS-6 was visible far off in the distance.

It was the orbital launcher that would be taking him and his crew to the very edge of the solar system.

July 7 - Royalty // Clones

Clones | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 650

Shiro frowned as he looked in the mirror, running a hand over his head. “Matt, I thought you said you were good at cutting hair?” He grumbled, turning his head to see the slightly uneven sides. Matt shrugged. “I said I could cut hair, not that I was good at it. You’ve seen what I look like.” He protested. “It doesn’t even look that bad, you’re just being dramatic.” 

July 8 - Save Me // Hover-Bike

Save Me | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 500 

Keith was trying hard to stay awake as he stared at his computer from his suddenly very comfortable desk chair. His morning schedule was pulled up as he tried to remember what order his new classes were in. The door to his room swung open and shut again in a flurry, as a very panicked Shiro first tried crawling under his desk and then slid underneath his bed. “Shiro? What are you doing?” Keith asked, tilting his head to stare at him.

“Matt’s coming, he’s really mad. You have to save me.” Shiro begged quietly.

July 9 - Quality Time // Physical Touch

Physical Touch | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 775

There are a lot of ways Keith would describe Shiro: kind, loyal, strong, dependable, funny, smart, gorgeous, and unfortunately…

High strung.

July 10 - Suspicion // Fidelity

Suspicion | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 970

Keith hadn’t gotten a single demerit all week, not even for staying in the sims past curfew. It would have been a cause for celebration, but it just happened to be the week before Shiro’s birthday. Shiro knew Keith had to be up to something.

July 11 - No Prompt/Free Day

Another SBB day!

July 12 - Eternal // choices

Choices | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 540 

Keith groaned at his screen as he scrolled through the seemingly endless form. Concerned, Shiro looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, everything ok?” He asked, walking up behind Keith’s seat and leaning to look at the screen.

July 13 - Happy Ending // Tragedy

Tragedy | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 1.7K (whoops) 

Getting the quartermaster to agree to sign over the newest and best hoverbike in the garage for an evening wasn’t easy. Matt had tried and been denied on the basis that he was awful at driving, which while entirely fair, had thrown a wrench in Shiro’s plan when he asked only a handful of minutes later. “You gonna let Holt drive?” The quartermaster asked, glaring suspiciously.

July 14 - Alternate Realities // Star-Crossed

Alternate Reality | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 1K 

Matt knew something was off the moment he woke up. It was 8am on a Saturday and he could hear people in the living room. Normally Shiro woke with the sun and he and Keith would have long been in the sims training or out wandering around in the desert by then. He pulled on his shirt and sweatpants and walked out of his room suspiciously. “What are you guys doing here?” He mumbled, stumbling his way to the kitchen and the promise of coffee.

July 15 - Sin // Habits

Habits | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 450 

Every Wednesday at 12:30, almost on the dot, Shiro and Keith ate lunch together on top of the roof of the junior officers’ quarters. Technically, it wasn’t allowed, but the area wasn’t well patrolled and it had the best view of the surrounding mountains and open desert out of the whole Garrison.

July 16 - Ignite // Error

Error | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 675 

“If we die, I’m haunting both of you.” Matt grumbled, massaging his rapidly swelling ankle.

Keith looked away from the cliff face to raise an eyebrow in Matt’s direction. “If we all die how will you haunt us? Can a ghost haunt another ghost?”

Shiro groaned under his breath. “Ghosts aren’t real, and we aren’t dying. We’re gonna be fine.” He assured, trying hard to keep both of them calm.

July 17 - Sacrifice // Rebirth

Sacrifice | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 400

Keith looked up from his desk in shock as his door flew open. “Smith, get out.” Matt demanded.

Smith looked up from his desk as well, but more in outrage than surprise. “What? This is my room!” He shouted back.

Matt rolled his eyes and pointed to his shoulder. “Cool story, I’m a Second Lieutenant. Get out.” He challenged. Smith grumbled to himself and shook his head at Keith, grabbing his books and stuffing them into his backpack. “Bye, now.” Matt called with mocking sweetness as Keith’s roommate stormed out.

July 18 - No Prompt/Free Day

SBB!!

July 19 - Pilot // Ninja

Ninja | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 500

Not that Shiro had ever been small in the time Keith had known him, but he’d come back from a month-long training mission absolutely huge. It made sense- astronauts had to be at the top of their game, mentally and physically. Keith wasn’t the only one that had noticed.

July 20 - Simulation // Exploration

Simulation | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 1.2k

Shiro paces when he’s nervous. He’s done it ever since Matt’s known him. Normally, it wouldn’t bother Matt so much, but he was stuck on the couch with a broken leg and no homework left to do and nothing on TV and Shiro wouldn’t stop pacing.

“Shiro, buddy, you have to sit down. For like 3 minutes. Please.” Matt practically begged.

July 21 - Coping // Stress

Coping | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 800

Matt’s idea of coping with finals was to lock himself in his bedroom and turn off his phone, forbidding any human contact whatsoever until he was sure he’d get top marks in everything. Shiro however, didn’t believe in cramming for exams. He’d studied all he was going to and was confident in his ability to pass all of his tests and simulations with flying colors, no matter what his pounding heart told him.

July 22 - Parents // Orphan

Parents | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 450

Keith sounded like he was nearly in tears when he’d called Shiro and begged him to meet up on the roof. It had set off every alarm in Shiro’s brain and he raced to the stairs as fast as he could to see what was the matter. Keith was holding something bundled up in his jacket when Shiro came bursting onto the rooftop.

“I got here as soon as I could. Are you ok?” Shiro asked, slightly out of breath, as he walked over to check on Keith.

July 23 - Zodiac // Concert

Zodiac | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 600

It is said that only the dead have seen the end of war.

It was almost an enviable position, Keith mused as he took in the all-too-familiar face smiling back at him from the poster. A lifetime felt like it wouldn’t have been long enough to pinpoint all of the follies that had led him there, to that moment. He brought a trembling hand up and closed his fingers around the paper. The handsome smile crumbled in his fist as he stalked down the hall.

July 24 - Betrayal // Fame

Fame | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 500 Shiro was used to being the Garrison’s Golden Boy. It was a little annoying, a little isolating, but mostly it suited him just fine. He knew how to be confident in his abilities without being arrogant and how to use his status for minor indulgences without being accused of being a diva (by anyone but Matt, at least).

Keith was always used to being the troublemaker, the discipline case, the odd man out. That suited him just fine as well. He did his best to stay out of trouble at the Garrison for Shiro’s sake. Keeping his head down, working hard in class and blowing off steam in the sims or the gym or out in the desert was a system that had taken time to perfect but Keith figured it out with only a few missteps along the way.Yes, their roles suited both of them just fine… until the first time Keith broke one of Shiro’s records.

July 25 - No Prompt/Free Day

Hit 40k on my sheith big bang fic 👌

July 26 - Rest // Nightmares

Nightmare | Canonverse | Pre-kerb & Post-canon | G | 500

“This is a nightmare.” Matt groaned, threading his fingers through his hair. “Youare a nightmare, Takashi Shirogane.” 

Shiro looked up at him with a mixture of shock, hurt, and confusion. “How am I a nightmare?”Matt glared. “Don’t give me those puppy eyes. You know you’re like this.” He gestured to Shiro’s desk and then to his body.

July 27 - Sports // Stargazing

Sports | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | T | 1.4k Most of the cadets and instructors go home for the holidays in the winter, but Keith wasn’t one of them. He didn’t dwell on the fact that he didn’t really have a home to go to, he made the best of making the Garrison his home. The only part that really bummed him out was the boredom.

He’d already finished all of his homework assigned over the break, and the simulator was down “until further notice” for maintenance, so things had started to get… weird. Gathering all his pens and pencils, he placed a coffee mug on his own desk and sat down across the room at his roommate’s desk. One by one, he started tossing the pens towards the cup, adjusting his position on the chair and the angle he threw with each miss.

July 28 - Protect // Attack

Protect | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 500

Matt had seen Shiro do a lot of dumb things over the years- he wasn’t as cool as he pretended to be. He’d seen Shiro get stuck in more than one t-shirt that had allegedly shrunk in the wash, accidentally put ketchup into his coffee because he was too exhausted to function and then drink it anyway, and he’d watched Shiro hit his head on the sim door more times than he could count.

All of that paled in comparison to the second-hand embarrassment he inflicted upon Matt every single time he was around Keith. 

July 29 - Honesty // Lies

Lies | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 400 “It’s nothing I wouldn’t do for any cadet that was struggling,” it’s not a lie the first time he says it, or if it is, it’s a lie that he believes in his soul. It might be a lie later, after a dozen trips to Iverson’s office, after countless sleepless nights in the library, after hours baking in the hot sun on the back of his bike when he knows he should be studying.

“We’re just friends,” Shiro knows it’s a lie but he says it with conviction. They never become more true, no matter how many times the words leave his lips. And they do- he says it a dozen times, maybe more. There’s nothing just about the kind of friends they are.

July 30 - Feline // Hippopotamus

Feline | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | G | 680 They named the chinchilla Churro. Keith had been adamant. Shiro had suggested Cinnamon, originally, but Keith’s eyes had lit up and when he whispered the word so reverently, Shiro was powerless but to agree. They’d done their best to find Churro’s rightful owner, but it wasn’t like he’d had a collar or anything, and he was technically contraband.

Luckily Matt’s middle name might as well have been contraband, so he and Shiro were locked in a battle of mutually assured destruction should he say anything about Shiro’s illegal pet. 

July 31 - Hero // Pain

Hero | Canonverse | Pre-kerb | PG | 900 

“I can be your hero baby,” the earplugs weren’t working. Not that Matt would have been able to sleep with the foam stuffed halfway into his brain anyway.

“I can kiss away the pain,” he pulled them out with a grimace before tossing them into the trash, putting his glasses on and stalking into Shiro’s room.

“I will stand by yo-” Shiro stopped singing and tore off his headphones, staring up at Matt from his desk like a deer in headlights.

“I say this both as your friend, and as someone dangerously close to committing homicide, you have to tell him.” Matt’s stern tone left no room for discussion or argument.

[piddle-puddle]

Some Old Tikal Drabbles

SO SOMETIME A GOOD 4000 YEARS AGO IN THE RP VERSE, EVERYONE WAS DOING THIS ONE DRABBLE ASK GAME AND I TOOK FOREVER TO DO ANY OF THEM. of course ol Tikal mun sent a few and I did these a while ago but just to have them somewhere I figure i’d post em just cuz. so yeh.

Enjoy some old writing of the two. here yall go.

Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]

Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]

Leave a “Remember Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them [be it from an accident, meeting them after years apart, feel free to specify.]

Unbind me:

It was almost nightfall, Tikal didn’t usually take this long to come home. Chaos was getting a little worried, but she’d been gone much longer then this before and been okay. He was originally waiting for the little orange mammal to return to the shrine as his indication feed the Chao dinner. Perhaps this would be one of her more lengthy walks. 

Considering the possibly she might not arrive until much later, the aquatic form decided now would be as good a time as ever to go check on that weird area over yonder on the opposing side of the island. He picked up a faint energy signal while experimenting with exactly how much energy he could drain from the Master Emerald without causing any change in the island’s altitude (his results were rather depressing). It didn’t appear to be a threat and leaving the Chao after just messing with the Master Emerald didn’t seem like a good idea, So he’d put investigation off until someone else was available to watch the Chao while he was away. 

It’d been a while since then, and he finally convinced himself they’d be fine for the few minutes he was out. Proceeding to the nearest chao-fruit-tree to him, knocking down some of its produce, and instructing the three eldest Chao to distribute them to the others; Chaos warped himself near the source of the signal.

aaaaaand found himself in a mess of jungle, vines, and vegetation all around. This was a pretty dense forest, the person emitting the energy must have gotten lost in the middle of it. The poor fool… 

Not much time had passed before the deity found himself within range to sense the origin point himself, though at this point he didnt really need to sense it to determine the location. Whatever it was was doing a huge amount of moving. Enough to the point he could hear it over the rest of the jungle. That is, until the noise suddenly stopped.

Chaos followed suit, did the target sense his presense? He thought he was being pretty quiet, much more then they were anyway. His question was answered as a burst of chaos energy shot into the air. Chaos stood still shocked for but a mere moment before beating feet toward its origin.

What he found though, left him speechless 

A small, orange young girl hung tangled in numerous tree vines and was clearly frustrated. Chaos, holding in a laugh, surveyed the mess the poor echidna had got herself into. How that even happened was not something he planned to ask, as he himself would have been far too embarrased to answer that question. Not that the question he finally did end up asking was any better. No not by a long shot

“Are you in need of assistance?”

Tikal stopped her squirming for a while, letting a dead silence set in. 

“No of course not! Just thought spending an entire day struggling to get out of these vines would be a great way to spend my time~!” Her voice was delightfully snide. For a moment Chaos considered returning the favor, but she already looked miffed enough for one day.

“A-apologies, Tikal. Here, cease movement while I cut you out.” With that, Chaos dissolved into a puddle and began to encircle the floor right below the girl. In one simple, swift movement, a wave shot up from the very edge, slicing straight through the vines. Traveling the circumference of the circle, Chaos cut each cord in such a sudden fashion that Tikal didn’t have time to angle herself, and she fell right to the ground with a little peep. the deity just sort of giggled, reforming a bit off to the side. “Shall we be off toward home?”

“Thanks..” The echidna remarked, not quite appreciating the sudden drop, but very thankful to be free. She attempted to get to her feet, struggling slightly. She’d been stuck there for quite a while. The girl nodded to her friend though, “I wouldn’t guess you already have food prepared there?”

“It shouldn’t take long to fix up something. Wouldst you I carry you back until your feet regain their fullness?” He smiled. Or at least attempted to.

“I’ll be fine… Thank you again. That was really unpleasant.”

“Not to worry dear. I only wish I arrived sooner.”

Quiet me:

Had this sort of circumstance happened to anyone else, she might have managed to chuckle a bit at it. However, Tikal knew how much the deity loved gardening; she knew that next to caring for Chao, that was the thing that brought him the most joy.

The sheer scale of the issue also took a large hit on the humor value. Gigantic, towering fungi loomed over the whole zone, it was a wonder none of them were harmful to anything but the vegetation. This whole place was somewhat of a natural miracle.

Chaos had another word for it however. Several in fact, “Disaster”.. “monstrosity”.. “abomination”… Those seemed to sum up pretty fairly the sort of feelings Chaos was emitting through the energy he naturally produced. Often times, he took great care to keep his energy from reflecting his emotions, as this would allow those able to sense Chaos energy, like Tikal, from knowing how he felt. However, this time he was far to focused on being demoralized to bother with that.

“Knuckles said they call this place Mushroom Hill Zone now..” The girl remarked, recalling how he had just a mere few moments ago been so enthusiastic about taking her to his private garden. many times when she was younger seeing her friend appear at the shrine from this direction every now and then. He couldn’t speak clearly during that time, but he had seemed to have a sense of pride about him when returning home. At this moment, she could tell even without his aura actively communicating it, that he was filled mostly with despair at the sight of what had happened. That prooooooooobably meant the gargantuan mushrooms weren’t supposed to be here. “I’m sorry Chaos.” She said, attempting to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Aaaand it went right through him. He apparently wasn’t even mentally present enough to focus his body into a semi-solid state. The comfort hugs would have to wait a while then.

In the meantime, Chaos continued his whimpering. There had been outbreaks of the spores before, but he was always there to cut them down before they had the chance. He’d been tending to that garden for what felt like ever sense he adopted the Chao. In fact they actually used to live there until the shrine was built for him and the emerald. It’s beauty was awe-inspiring; lush, green, glimmering and filled to the brim with life, blooming flowers and fruit the hundreds. It was his pride and joy, second to only the children he cared for. But… this was all that work had resulted too..

After what seemed like half an hour, he managed to whimper out a “h-h-…how..??” That was almost rhetorical though. His energy had a bizarre strengthening effect of living things, which was mostly how he managed to get so much verity in his garden all in one place. The area was always plagued by some kind of fungus infestation, an issue he realized a little too late. But as long as he kept them under control it was fine. The problem, was that they were allowed about 4,000 or so years to grow without his constant maintenance. That was something both he and Tikal managed to piece together a little while after the fact. Of course, unaware he had been able to guess at that, Tikal explained the whole theory to him outloud, and being rewarded with a severely upset groan. Chaos then proceeded to flop on the ground and continue his moping until the poor girl couldn’t take it anymore. 

She stayed there until sundown, trying to think and say and do things that would cheer him up, although it appeared to accomplish nothing. She eventually gave up and had to drag him back to the shrine using a water basket; where he continued to sit and mope and the foot of the stairs with all the Chao sitting with him, trying to be of some comfort.

Needless to say, Chaos never went to that half of the island ever again.

Remember me:

Dust clouds filled the air, pile upon pile of rocks falling to the ground after each earth-shattering blow struck the ground. She’d arrived late, and had missed whatever was causing the creature to begin his rampage once again, but it hardly mattered. Chaos’ mood was easily effect by surrounding forces, and it certainly seemed someone around here had been putting out a lot of negative chaos energy. Even without the concentrated pool radiating off the elemental himself, Tikal could sense someone else had been here before, most likely driving the poor being over the edge.

Perhaps Chaos’ sluggishness was a blessing in disguise, because he was having one heck of a time landing a hit on the girl. This was a new experience for the both of them, never before had Chaos ever attempted to harm Tikal throughout all the time he’d been acquainted with her. It was… frightening.. to see him like this. Not just because he himself was quite dangerous, but because of how caring she knew he was underneath. She’d only been able to witness his drastic shift of personalities from a far, but up close and directed at her was a whole nother story..

And to think, it was yet another blessing he only took one emerald with him, she could only imagine how her family felt facing him at the shrine was all those years ago. On his face was a cold, dead expression. His aura radiated hate and rage, being near him was sickening.

Another three jabs struck the ground with no contact. Chaos had never been exceptional at one on one combat. His aim was atrocious. Easily dashing backward, the echidnan girl called out to her friend once again in hopes of reaching his conscience, but to no avail. Just once she’d like for that to work. To not have to put herself and her friends at potential risk of being hurt by getting up close and personal. One blow to his brain ought to keep him still enough to try and transfer some positive energy to him, but that meant hurting him. And while hurting him was a much better option then wait for him to get lucky and land a hit, not only did that mean she’d have to fight him, but he had a horribly bad guilt-inducing cry. It was like kicking a puppy to her, you just can’t do it and remain happy afterwards.

She spent too much time in thought this round, Chaos was already right above her with his next attack, charged and ready to break more earth. She acted quick, leaping of the ground at the enraged deity. If Chaos was rearing to punch, he’d have to solidize his fist in order for it to have much an impact. She’d seen this technique of his a number of times, Nicknaming it Chaos Impact, after the large shock-wave it produced. Mid-way through Chaos’ strike, Tikal reached her arm out, placing her palm on what equated to his wrist. She pushed off right when his punch struck ground, the impact aiding the girl in her flip over her friend. This would have provided the perfect opportunity to return fire, but still feeling conflicted over the situation, Tikal failed to take advantage of this. 

This proved to be a bad decision, as Chaos had anticipated this. Hearing a loud smack, the orange girl found herself spinning uncontrollably through the air, a sharp pain in her side. Her vision blurred, unable to identify anything she caught a glimpse of. Chaos however, having just swatted his opponent upward with his tail, aimed to make the most of his upper hand. 

Not that he had any specific idea what he was doing. Thinking was exactly something he was capable of at the moment. He was fighting something before and it… did something and now there’s this other something and everything just kind of meshed into one indistinguishable mess. All that was functioning properly in him was pure instinct, and that was telling him very clearly that whatever was making him feel so horrid would go away if he kept fighting. That was usually the only thing his instinct ever told him and it was usually a load of bull. Chaos often wondered why he ever listened to bit, but again, thinking was a bit out of the question at the moment. Anger dulled his senses, and he behaved according to any impulse he had.

Liquid planted itself firmly in the ground, the rest of the tail trailing back to its origin on the deity’s body. In one simple, swift movement, Chaos flicked himself up into the air. The arm that had once held the charge for his first attack now swung out, and the liquid form flipped himself upward. Tikal, who had finally begun slowing down enough to see what was going on, found herself being caught rather comfortably by the god. The spinning finally stopped, and it was strangely reassuring Chaos didn’t punch her when he could have. Although she knew it wouldn’t last long.

Chaos flipped their positions on the decent, pushing his friend to the ground and landing on his feat. The arm he used to catch her was now pressed down on her stomach, pinning her to the ground. He realized he couldn’t keep up with her, so he knew he had to stop her movement completely. Succeeding in doing so, Chaos raised the one arm he hadn’t used, containing yet another charged chaos impact, shooting a cold, cruel glare at his opponent.

This situation was extremely bleak; breathing was getting increasingly harder, and Tikal knew what was going to happen next. Yet.. somehow she didn’t feel scared. She stared Chaos straight back; and not with a face of anger but one with compassion. She didn’t feel mad, just sorry. All at once, every action in the aquatic being’s body halted. Instinct told him to attack, but he could not force himself to drop his fist. Neither moved a muscle, and silence fell over the battle field.

Seeing the confusion in the others eyes, Tikal spoke. “…Chaos.. c-can you see me now?”

There was no response. The beast just continued to stare, eyes big and bright with bewilderment. His ability to think seemed to have returned, but nothing he was seeing was being understood.

“You tend.. to forget yourself at times..” Her voice was calm and quiet. “That’s.. that’s okay Chaos, really.. you j-.. just need a reminder sometimes..!”

The hand raised only a little from her abdomen, allowing her to breath easy again. Silence fell once again while the echidna gathered her breath. Chaos had frozen completely still, paralyzed in shock and fear. Thoughts were now running wild through his head and he was unable to grasp a one.

“You’re.. you’re a kind and gentle guardian. A-and you protect those who cannot defend themselves.” She rested her hands on his, softly patting it in a reassuring manner. Gone was the anger that pulsed from his being, replaced by fright, regret, and panic. Tikal slowly began concentrating her own positive energy into her palms, hoping to channel them to him.

“You’re not a monster Chaos, no matter what you or anyone else say… Don’t ever think that, because it’s wrong.” It seemed that Chaos finally regained most of his consciousness. Tikal smiled at him in her friendly way, although she was beginning to feel faint. Reaching up, she shut her eyes, hugged his arm and said the last bit she wanted to add.

“You’re my friend Chaos, and I can’t think of anything that will change that.”

…

 When the little orange girl next opened her eyes, she found herself in a familiar location. Chirping was heard a moment later from a Chao sitting next to her, apparently waiting for her to wake up. She soon realized that she was back at the shrine, resting on an incredibly shoddily made bed composed of leafs. Chaos lay curled up on top of the master emerald, obviously attempting to take up as little space as possible. 

She’d have to smooth things over with him later, but for now, she was just happy to be back home.

[ofheroiism-blog]

LETTERS (ORIGINAL MALINA & NATHAN DRABBLE)

The house sits in quiet stuck in that hazy space in-between the darkest night and the beginning rays of the rising sun signaling a new day. Wandering aimlessly through the house having checked on her kids, and avoiding her lab.

The irony of avoiding the lab her only space where she felt the world even began to make sense. Because ‘he’ was down there with ‘her’ .

“Unable to sleep?”

It feels like ice water running down her spine as storm grey eyes, look over her shoulder a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding escaped her lips. “Doctor I didn’t think anyone was awake.” Moving to the coffee machine almost mechanically having resigned herself to a lack of sleep, painfully aware of his silence and critical eyes watching her…analyzing her.

The doctor was able to unnerve her, and make her almost as tense as ‘Nathan’ himself could. Maybe it was his silence, his ruthless calculation at times of crisis… or was it how being around the doctor the two making conversation so easily and his ability to gain the trust of the kids who for all understandable reasons were guarded and tense. He’d gained the trust of her eldest the child so much like her who carry a burden that wasn’t even hers to gaining the trust of her youngest and most fragile son…

It was his eyes… yes that’s what made her tense about him, those damn godforsaken green eyes.Those eyes that made her heart ache due to their familiarity and made her blood run cold at just how different they were from…Nathan’s own eyes. He motion to the chair across from him and with a sigh Malina moves to sit across from him. The silence thick between the two as she hold her coffee cup in her hands letting the heat make her feel anything…while he seem to debate what words her wanted to say to her.

“I have a proposition for you….but it has conditions.” His voice is smooth and simple her eyes flicker to his a storm in her own as she try to figure out just what he had planned. His ability to mask his intentions better than Nathan’s even if they were the same person just molded by different realities and events he was like a different person completely. “And that would be?” Her voice is clear despite her weariness to hear him out her curiosity winning over her thought process as he tilt his head to the side staring at her as if searching for something in her.

“I want you and the children to join me over summer, traveling through all of time and space.” He pauses before stating his condition “My condition is…you and the original Nathan need to come clean… I have a theory that I’d like to test with you two, I need you to write a letter and pour your heart out to be honest and truthful with yourself for once…free yourself malina from your agony.” His hand reaching across the table to rest over her balled fist as she sit tense staring him down guarded now. “I’ve told him to do the same for you… I think it’d be good for both of you to face what you both seem so intent on dancing around and never facing. I can see how you and him carry these…anchors and ghosts of your past together with you dragging you down every step you take breeding anger at each other because you both are so afraid to admit the pain and aches that you refuse to acknowledge.

When Malina doesn’t reply to his words he stand “ Those are my conditions.” And turn away to go back to his time machine for rest.

Pour her heart out, Pour her heart out to… him. The person who hurt her more than anyone else in the world ever could of.

It’s later locked away in her room laying in bed unable to shut down her running mind, that she pulls the box she’d hidden away under her bed. Memories she tuck away now being freed as she open it and set it’s contents on the bed… a photo of baby Claire with soap bubbles in her hair and soap bar in her tiny hand as she laugh no older than a year, a photo of her parents and brother. Eyes gloss as she puts their photo aside her hand picking up the old wedding ring that she’d once worn, her chest aches. She picks up a photo of Noah in his lacross jersey with Karalina and Maia his arms thrown around them the trio laughing it’d been so long since she’d seen her son smile a genuine grin, Farah and her husband Elysian putting Christmas decorations up. The final item a wedding photo. Her clad in white seventeen looking at Nathan with the purest look of love… A part of her wants to scream at that foolish seventeen year old girl and tell her to not put the ring on, to not accept the proposal, to not walk down that aisle because their story would only end in her being broken in the end.

A rage builds itself in her chest and she’s gathering the objects stuffing them into the box wanting them out of her sight these ghosts of a life that should of been.

“It’d be good for both of you.’ The doctors words ringing in her head as she pull a notepad from her nightstand and pen.

Closing her eyes malina takes a deep breath and begins to scrawl…write away the pain in her chest.

“We never really saw eye to eye, just eye for eye, lie for lie, my fight and you chose flight. So much baggage on both our backs but we carry on with our public outbursts and spats.Like it was all fun I actually used to run to the battles and you’d  give me a tongue lashing and I fight back we thought it was funny.back in our childish youth but now we see that it wasn’t once we both knew that we were done and actually through.But if i must admit one fraction of truth, if our story could be respun there are so many things I know I would do so many things different. Because our ending was a tragedy with no excuse. I hurt you once and you used that to make your escape right for you. Now you wonder why the girls look at you like their dad is a scumbag…like your so confused.

Could you explain how you can be the hero and the villain…how come you can be a good father, a great friend but a awful husband.

You were the first thing i ever truly loved despite everything I was taught…we laughed a little and cried a lot. I’ll never forget how your eyes lit up when you held our first baby our miracle and dream Claire in your arms. The way we swore she would never have to fight the wars we did and be a kid and live a life without chaos…a life free of fear and doubt.Then things started to get dark and we fell apart you picked yourself up and a line was crossed. Then we decided to give it one last try and everyone thought we should not. Because you were my glowing star when the sky was dark, remember that rock in that tiny box promising a life never apart when we tied the knot, but you broke the knot and every line we crossed we were supposed to not and our words got too harsh everytime we fought. The words we spat that we didn’t mean, the words we that we meant that we didn’t say, and the words that we thought that we should of said.letters written that we could of read when we had clearer heads and led to some good for us instead.

We brought out the worst in each other, and you decided to make the sparring end. Cause I loved you but you started to hate the dark in me and I was afraid she’d win, but I’m sorry Nathan more than you could ever even try to comprehend losing you was more painful than anything Erika could of ever did. 

Once upon a time we were all we had and maybe thats what drew us to each other, it was true love a thing I never knew was possible and we loved each other too much and maybe thats whats made us do what we did to each other. All our screw ups because I’m sure you always thought you were more in love with me and I was thinking I was more in love than you were. For all the times we thought we worked then we saw how wrong we were when the smoke clears and we still have raw wounds and they hurt. It feels like an exhaustive mental search I just talked to the doctor and had the urge to jot this letter. My purpose is not to stir or open wounds. I’ve made a few but so have you and argue who’s fault it was partly yours but partly mine but really no ones.

This is so tough god I’m feeling choked up.

God damnit we both suck we broke up and got back together…we both thought we’d have forever were not bad people just bad together.

Our love was nuts, backstabbed each other another blow struck. But theres no dodging this blow because what we had is over and I need this closure.

But I’m not sure how to close this…I’m just not sure how two people can be so good at fighting everything but we can’t even face each other.”

Tears slip down her cheeks as she fold the paper and put it in an envelope writing his name with blurry eyes and teleporting it to the lab where he’d be…

@familyofevoution