#I finally made him take his jeans off lmaoo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notnctu · 4 years ago

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switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au, ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @dearlyminhyung

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :)

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you.

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you.

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you.

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together.

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts.

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you.

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut.

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter.

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.”

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more.

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal.

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone.

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face.

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car.

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen.

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body.

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire.

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?”

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.”

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.”

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention.

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno.

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat.

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things.

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats.

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink.

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you.

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs.

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel.

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips.

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again.

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship.

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you.

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice.

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper.

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate.

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle.

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you.

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s.

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you.

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him.

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax.

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.”

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.”

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.”

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed.

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.”

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space.

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid.

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?”

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?”

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves,

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again.

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them.

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.”

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s.

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.”

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being.

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.”

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours.

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his.

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior.

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek.

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed.

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle.

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?”

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.”

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him.

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much.

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that.

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious.

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown.

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response.

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.”

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.”

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it.

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.”

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin.

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.”

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further.

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.”

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving.

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him.

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.”

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat.

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile.

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party.

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand.

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough.

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.”

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.”

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard.

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode.

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs.

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect.

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.”

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own.

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer.

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.”

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk.

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car.

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane.

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anothers-trash-my-treasure · 4 years ago

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Take It Out On Me

Happy Smutty Saturday! I seem to like writing things revolving around the pandemic lmaoo I'm sorry, I don't want to make that a habit. This is escapism, after all. Anyways, request from god knows how long ago about angry fucking with our fav gremlin boi

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (Female)

Warnings: 18+. There's some angst, some words exchanged in anger but nothing too crazy. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls don't be dumb) Rough sex, dirty talking, hints of BDSM if you squint, praise kink if you squint.

Word Count: 3K

Tag List: @edteche2 @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar @txmel @gloriousdarkangelsworld @paradoxicaltornado @404-not-found-xix

Enjoy!

When the pandemic started, things weren’t so bad. Your job allowed you to simply work from your laptop, you had turned the second bedroom/storage room into a makeshift office and it worked just fine. Merriell, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He had been laid off, and, at first, was incredibly stressed about it. Thankfully though, you made enough money to cover the rent and the government came through with some financial aid that helped Mer pay for the bills. You’d be okay.

In fact, once the financial stresses were taken care of, it was actually kind of nice. You two hadn’t lived together long, but long enough that you had noticed your schedule differences and long enough to know you had missed each other. Gone were the late nights at the shop that left you lonely and missing his touch. Quite the contrary, during the first few months, you had fucked like rabbits. He had taken you in every room of the house like you were christening the damn thing all over again. The kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, hell, he even had you in your ‘office’ at one point. It was fun, being together all the time.

Until it wasn’t.

Eventually, being cooped up in the same goddamn space all the damn time got to both of you. And you loved him dearly but god he was so fucking annoying sometimes. Usually, you could avoid creating tension either by slinking away to your office for a bit or politely asking him to take a walk. But the office door had been a lost cause ever since he fucked you up against it so hard it came right off its hinges and it was raining outside, so he couldn’t leave. You were stuck.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but the little things that usually didn’t matter had gone unchecked and undiscussed and were beginning to bite at your skin in a way you couldn’t ignore. For you, it had started when you went to the bathroom in the morning, only to discover he had left the toilet seat up and you fell right through. For him it had started when you unconsciously kicked him awake at 6 in the morning on a Saturday. And from there it spiraled. By the time you were ready for coffee, he had drunk the whole pot.

“Thanks for leaving me some.” you had grumbled, and maybe you meant it in good fun, but your sleepy attitude struck a chord, and you knew that because it was met with silence.

So maybe that’s why you didn’t ask him if he wanted some of the eggs you were making for breakfast. And maybe that’s why he decided the be extra loud when he finally made his own breakfast. Pots and pans clanging as he threw them in the sinks, cupboard doors slamming shut and using his fork just a little too violently in a way that set your whole being on edge.

By the end of the day, you had snapped at each other a few times and the tension was so thick that you could barely stand just being next to him. You hated that you were feeling this way, that these stupid lockdowns were driving you away from each other when all you wanted was the opposite. But you couldn’t let go of your anger and annoyance, and it bled through your veins, poisoning any conflict resolution that threatened to act as an antidote to your frustrations.

The last straw came at dinner. He had asked you what you wanted to eat and just the question had you gritting your teeth. So you had replied, telling him that he could make whatever he wanted. That, apparently, was the wrong answer.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he snarled, slamming his hand down onto the kitchen island, “Can you please jus' tell me what the fuck you want?!”

You had done nothing more than glance his way and roll your eyes, not getting a chance to respond before he was launching into a tangent.

“Seriously, what the fuck do ya think I am? Some kinda mind reader?” He asks, one hand gesturing wildly while the other keeps the counter in a white-knuckled grip, “Ya been in this fuckin’ mood all goddamn day and Darlin, I gotta say, ‘m fuckin’ sick of it.”

You bark out a sharp, bitter laugh, “Oh, you’re sick of it?” You stand up from the couch, walking behind it so you can get closer to him, “Like you haven’t been intentionally pissing me off all fucking day.”

His jaw pushes out in annoyance, both hands now gripping the countertop, “I promise you,” and you gotta give the guy credit for trying to regain some composure, “whateva’ I did to make you this goddamn bitchy was not intentional.”

“Oh, so I’m a bitch now?” You counter, folding your arms over your chest.

His eyes close and his chin tucks into his chest, recognizing his mistake but unwilling to apologize for it, “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Tell me.” you insist, stepping closer to him, “Tell me what a bitch I’ve been. Blame all your problems on me. Because that’s just easier, isn’t it?”

It’s not true. You know. He knows it. But right now, all you can focus on is the anger that’s been boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y’know what? Maybe this-” he cuts himself off, but his quick gesture between the two of you finishes the rest of his sentence for him. Silence fills the kitchen and now there’s salt added to the wound. Hurt swirls with your anger and you can’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried.

“No, say it.” you encourage bitterly, crossing the line into the kitchen, “Tell me how moving in together was a mistake. Tell me how you can’t fucking stand living with me. Tell me how I’m so bitchy and how sick you are of my shit. Tell me-”

Before you can finish antagonizing him, he’s got you pushed up against the wall, his hands braced on either side of your head. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath, angry and panting on your skin. You look into his eyes, seeing them hard and cold with his anger but something else lying behind them.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and before you can even begin to be angry about it his lips are on yours and you can’t breathe.

His anger is very apparent, even as he kisses you. It’s rough, bruising, but it’s an outlet for all the negative feelings you’ve been experiencing so you kiss him back just as hard. You reach for him, unsure if you’re working to pull him closer and push him away. It doesn’t really matter though because he doesn’t let you touch him for long. Within seconds both your wrists are taken in one hand and pinned above your head. You fight against his hold, despite knowing it’s futile. In retaliation you bite down hard on his lip, feeling only a little satisfied when he pulls away in shock, his free hand coming up to check for blood. There's not.

You meet his eyes with a defiant smirk. He wants to play dirty? Fine. You can play that way too.

He steps away and for a second you think he’s actually going to walk away. But then-

“Get your ass to the bedroom.”

You almost laugh. If he thinks you’re, in any way, going to be compliant tonight, he’s sadly mistaken. Instead, you cross your arms, falling back to lean against the wall, your eyes never leaving his. He chuckles, an angry smirk crossing his features. He looks away, shaking his head, tongue poking against the side of his cheek in complete disbelief. Before you can think of your next move he’s got you thrown over his shoulder, marching the both of you down the hallway to your shared bedroom. You squirm, trying to push yourself to an angle that would let you fight his grip but it’s no use. By the time you work his hold free, he’s already dropping you on the bed. Although dropping may not be the right word, he all but slams you down, leaving you momentarily breathless.

Even then, he moves quickly. His hands move to his belt, quickly working the clasp back and off so he can slide his jeans off. Despite your anger, you feel heat pool between your legs when the fabric drops to reveal bare skin. It’s nothing new for Merriell, but it never fails to do something to you. He knows it too, a cocky smile gracing his face as he sheds his shirt too. He only lets you look for a second before he’s quickly flipping you onto your stomach. He forces you up onto your knees, hand finding the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you as he climbs onto the mattress behind you.

You put up a bit of a fight, although you’re becoming less and less focused on your anger and frustration and more focused on the feeling on his cock pressing against the back of your jean-clad thigh.

“Always seem to forget how fucking stubborn you are.” He growls into your ear, pressing himself against the line of you body while his free hand starts to unbutton and work off your pants, “Hard headed and difficult.” he continues, biting roughly on your earlobe just to here your intake of breathe and to feel you struggle against his hold, “A fucking brat.” He punctuates the last words by tugging both your jeans and panties down around your thighs roughly. You hiss at the forcefulness of the action, feeling the burn of the fabric against your skin contrasting with cool air against your bare pussy.

You’re completely at his mercy.

His presence is dominating, even though you can’t see him, his hands, one pressing on your neck to keep you still and the other caressing the swell of your ass, let you know exactly who's in charge. You don’t struggle, both of you knowing how much you want him, but you still hold an air of defiance. Your face is turned so you can breathe, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. He tries to draw you out, teasing you by dragging his cock against your wetness. He alternates between taking the tip and rubbing it between your folds and fucking the space between your thighs. He knows what it does to you, can see the way you fight the urge to beg by pressing your lips together.

But you don’t fold.

“C’mon baby,” he taunts, venom laced in his words, “I know you want it.” As he talks the hand on your neck slides up into your hair, “Know you want that attitude fucked outta ya,” He tugs your hair roughly, pulling a gasp from your lips and forcing you to look back at him, “All ya gotta do is ask.”

You breathe heavily for a second, eyes locked with his, “Go fuck yourself.”

He growls, shoving your head back down into the mattress and thrusting into you roughly. Your back arches, eyes rolling back in your head as he begins to fuck you, not allowing you even a second to catch your breath. The second he sees bliss cross your features, he’s insufferable.

He laughs against a moan, “Feisty,” he comments, “but the second my dick’s in ya, you’re putty in my hands.”

You’re desperate to prove him wrong. You force your eyes open, locking them with his and pushing back against his thrusts, the headboard already banging against the wall with the force of both your movements.

“Feel’s good doesn’t it?” He asks, free hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack.

“I’ve had better.” Your voice bounces with each thrust, but you’re determined to keep your composure, despite the pleasure that makes your toes curl.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and he lays another harsh smack to your rear, just to see your body react, “Liar,” he hisses, fingers digging into your skin.

His angle changes ever so slightly so that his cock now drags against your sweet spot with every movement and you can’t force your moan back. His eyes light up, laughing delightedly at the sound, “Had betta’ my ass.” he comments, leaning down to bite roughly on your shoulder, effectively leaving marks all across them, “Ya jus’ can’t help ya’self. You love it. Love the feeling of my cock in you.”

“Who says I’m thinking of you?” You shoot back.

You know it’s not true. Merriell was unlike any lover you had before, you were hopelessly and utterly ruined for anyone else. But that didn’t matter. The comment, however untruthful, hits his possessive streak just like you knew it would. He pulls out of you, flipping you onto your back and nearly ripping the remaining fabric off your body before resuming his brutal pace, this time using your wrists on either side of your head to hold you down. In this position he can ensure that you’re looking at him, leaving no doubt in either of your minds that it’s him that makes you feel like this. Only him.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growls, leaving bite marks all along your skin. By the time you’re done, there won’t be a part of your body that’s not marked by him.

He stops talking for a second, focusing instead on giving you the fucking of your life. He’d never fucked you like this. He’d been possessive, sweet, caring, loving, jealous. But never angry. Not like this. Every ounce of frustration and anger he’d felt was redirected to his hips, the air tense with the hurtful words you’d both said earlier.

“C’mon,” you taunt when he slows for a second, lips turned up in a sneer even as you pant, breathless, “That all you got?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, hoisting your legs up onto his shoulders, releasing your hands so he can move one to your throat, pressing you into the bed that way instead. It’s hard for you to breathe that way, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. And if you thought he was fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to the way he’s fucking you now.

The new angle allows him to trust deeper into you and your stubborn resolve begins to fade a little. Your hands scramble to latch onto his forearm that holds you down, not trying to push him away but just searching for purchase, for support somewhere you’ve always found it. He’s not faring much better, head rolling back onto his shoulders with a groan as he fucks you. You’re both quickly abandoning your anger in favor of the pleasure that you provide each other.

“Merriell,” you mewl, a peace offering without even realizing it.

His head snaps back to look down at you, eyes sparkling at the sound of your name on his lips for the first time tonight, “There she is,” he pants, leaning down to kiss you, open-mouthed and filthy. It’s still harsh, but the anger behind his motions is nearly gone, “My good girl, huh?”

You don’t even need to nod, to voice your confirmation. It’s not even really a question. You both know you’d come to an unspoken agreement.

“Fuck, baby girl.” he moans against your mouth, slowing his trusts just enough so he can really make you feel the drag of his cock inside you, “Oh, you feel so good.”

You love it when he gets like this. When all he can do is fuck into you and voice his pleasure. It’s a sure sign of surrender.

“Yes,” you gasp, back arching up against his as you feel your pleasure begin to reach its peak, “Merriell, I’m close.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding in agreement, “C’mon, baby I gotcha. Let go for me.”

Your eyes lock with his the second you feel yourself slip over the edge. You see the way his eyes watch you, full of love that he had hidden behind his anger earlier. Your nails dig into his arm and your eyes roll back, unable to help yourself as pleasure courses through your whole body. You think that maybe you're shaking, but you’re completely detached from your conscious, knowing only the bliss he’s brought you.

Your senses come back to you just in time to feel him finish inside of you. His head buries into your neck, muffling his moans against your skin. The hand that had previously held you down now cups the back of your neck, the other gripping the back of your thigh with a grip so tight, you’re sure you’ll wear his fingerprints for a week.

He collapses against you, staying buried in your heat but pulling back enough so he can kiss you passionately. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his hair as your emotions begin to rise. When he pulls back your eyes are wet with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

He nods, rubbing your noses together affectionately, “Me too,” he says, just as quiet, “Don’t leave.”

It’s a rare moment of sheer vulnerability, much needed after the heightened tensions throughout the past few days. You both knew, on some levels that the words shared earlier were spoken only out of frustration. But there was always that glimmer of doubt that you both felt. For him, it was always that you could find someone better. And for you, it was always the possibility of him growing sick of you.

You shake your head, kissing his softly, lovingly, “Never.”

After a few more moments of holding each other, he pulls out of you but doesn't move much further. He pulls you tight against his chest, kissing the top of your forehead. You bask in the silence for a handful of moments, just listening to each other breathe, finally feeling the tension between the two of you dissipate.

“Next time, can you just please put the seat down?” You murmur against his chest, a teasing tone to your voice.

He barks out a laugh and you grin against his skin at the sound.

Everything was going to be okay.

#merriell shelton #merriell shelton x reader #merriell shelton / reader #snafu #snafu shelton #snafu x reader #rami malek #rami malek smut #rami malek x reader #smut #angst

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jean-kayak · 4 years ago

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Falling Back Into Your Bed

Summary: One night was enough to have you crawling back to him

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: college!au, (smut 18+!!), fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, degradation, Eren's a little shit, little bit of ass smacking, mentions of sex under the influence (consensual), enemies to lovers sort of?

Word Count: 3120

A/N: This is has been in the drafts for a while, and it wasn't supposed to take the turn it was supposed to but I'm happy with it lmaoo. Completely unrelated, but I like making headers lol

It happened one time. To say you weren't really in the straightest mindset, but it happened once and now you're hooked. Your brain only filled with those images from that night. You groan as you pull at your hair, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on studying. Your brain completely occupied.

"You seem troubled? Need some help?" The snarky comment comes from your right, and you scoff as you rub your forehead.

"Shut the fuck up," you spit with a little more aggression than you intended as you try to focus on anything but that amazing night.

"You thinking about that night? It could always happen again." The words whispered against your skin makes the images flash fully in your head, and you push him away from you, which only gets a chuckle in return.

"Fuck off, Jaeger," you groan as you close your textbook.

"You alright?" Sasha asks you, and you sigh as you nod.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day. I think I'm gonna head back to my dorm." You end your study session with your friends, stuffing your books in your bag, giving them a wave of goodbye as you walk out of the library, sighing in content when the sun rays hit your skin.

You slept with Eren. The only person who can get on your nerves to the nth degree. You woke up in horror realizing what you did, but the horror was that you liked it. It was amazing, the best sex you've ever had. Of course, it has to come from the person you despise the most.

It was a party that Jean wanted you to go to, and he happened to be there, annoying you to no end as he usually is, and then he was kissing you, and then you're walking up to his room and the rest is history. The memories of that night flood your head again.

The way his hands felt hot against your skin, branding a path all over your body. The way his lips brushed all over your skin, stopping to show some parts of your body some love by sucking dark marks onto the skin that took you forever to cover up.

The way his d--

Wait, stop! What am I doing?

You shake your head as you take another deep breath. This is not how you thought your week was going to go.

"I don't know if you have mind-blowing sex what's the big deal? I'm failing to see the problem," Hitch says, and you roll your eyes as you fall back on your bed.

"The problem is that I don't like him. He gets on my last nerve. Why can't I have amazing sex with a guy that I don't wanna stab on a daily basis?" you argue, and Hitch scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

"Well, maybe it's the fact that you don't like each other that's making the sex great."

"I just wanna stop thinking about it," you admit.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be bothering him as much as it is you," she responds, and that part is what makes you the most irritated and confused.

You were sure you weren't that bad, but it's like he isn't even fazed by it, only teasing you about it in the best way possible. You groan as you roll over, burying your face in your pillow.

The only reason why you're forced to interact with him is that you're friends with Armin who's best friends with Eren. If that wasn't the case, you probably would never see him again, let alone be in the same room as him where he can annoy you.

"Whatever. Maybe I just need to get laid again, get him off my mind," you mumble into the pillow, and you know Hitch is giving you a look without even turning your head.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say," she muses. "Speaking of getting laid, there's another party tonight if you want to go."

You turn your head to the side to face her. "Weren't you just a party last weekend?" you comment, and she shrugs.

"You only live once." You raise your eyebrows at her answer but shrug anyway.

"If I don't have anything to do, then I'll go."

You should've stayed the fuck home because this party is not it. You don't know if it's because you really don't want to be here or the fact that you're sober, but you can't help but sigh in annoyance as you walk through the crowd until you find a corner where anyone isn't making out.

You nurse your drink, but the taste of the beer is slowly making you sick after two sips, so you just hold it to give you something to do. "You look like you're having fun."

You roll your eyes at the familiar voice, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "I should've known you'd be here." You knew that you should've listened to that weird feeling in the back of your head the moment you stepped into the room. "I'm not really feeling it," you say, and he steps closer to you.

"Well, we could always go somewhere else, and I can make you scream while I split you open on my dick again." You clench your jaw as you find something else to look at, trying and failing to ignore the way his words make your body hot all over.

You scoff. "Yeah, in your dreams."

"Really? You don't miss this?" he asks, pulling you into him, and you can't help when your mouth falls open slightly your breath hitching. "Cause I sure miss the way your tight pussy clamped around me."

Your thighs squeeze together subconsciously as you let out a small moan, luckily it's muffled by the music, but he doesn't miss your reaction. "Yeah, I'll pass," you muster, and he smirks as he chuckles.

"Fine, have it your way. The offer still stands," he says before he walks away, and you sigh heavily as you drink from your cup. You have to get out of here.

Eren can't take his eyes off of you as you walk around the room. You've filled your cup back up, but you haven't drank from it, the only thing on your face is that you want to get out of here. Even as you talk to some blond guy, Reiner he thinks his name is, your face is very evident in showing that you're tired of this conversation, but you're too nice to leave.

He walked over to talk to you just to tease you but ended up doing the same thing to himself. He finds it funny that you seem to deny what happened between you two even though you reacted the way you did. If he could take you in front of all these people, he would.

Well, he can, but he's better than that.

He doesn't tell you this, he doesn't think he will, but you're the only thing that's been on his mind, but he's just better at hiding it. He can't count how many times he's thought about your body, the noises you made, how fucked out you looked as you took his dick. Every time he touches himself, those are the only things he thinks about.

And every single time he finishes, he declares that he's going to get you back into his bed.

Which is why he decided to come to this party even though he didn't want to. He knew Hitch would drag you out here, and he knew that there was no way he was letting you go.

He almost feels bad for the guy. Even though he can't hear the conversation, he knows Reiner is trying and failing to woo you with his awful flirting tactics. He can recognize your fake laugh from a mile away.

He decides that he can't stand to watch this horror show any longer, and he moves over to where you are, rolling his eyes at a lame pick-up line he hears come from him. "Hey, I need to talk to you," he buds in, and you give him a look.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation." You state the obvious, and he gives you a lazy look.

"Yeah, not really," he responds, and you squint at him. "Come on, it'll take a second."

You sigh, giving in before turning to the buff guy next to you. "I'll be right back," you tell him, and only Eren knows that that's not true.

He eyes Eren before giving you a smile and a nod, and you follow Eren as you walk the too familiar walk to his room. He closes the door behind him when you walk in, and you cross your arms. "What was so important that you had to pull me from my conversation?" you question, annoyed, and he smiles at you.

"Yeah, it totally looked like you were enjoying that little chat." You roll your eyes as he takes your cup out of your hand, setting it on his dresser. "How much have you had?"

You frown at him. "To drink? Not enough because it's difficult to have a conversation with you sober."

He chuckles lightly as he walks closer to you until your knees hit the bed. "Can I say something?" he asks, and you try to act like his close proximity isn't bothering you.

"If it'll make this end sooner."

"All I've thought about is that night," he tells you, and he moves closer, making you fall down onto the bed as you look up at him with wide eyes. He hovers over you, one hand on the mattress next to you, the other trailing down your body, making goosebumps break out over your skin.

"How good you felt, how loud you were, how fucking soaked you were." His lips brush against yours as he runs a hand down your tube top, biting your lip when he rolls his finger over your nipple.

"What does this have to do with me being sober?" you ask breathlessly, and he smirks as his hand moves down to your shorts, and he doesn't miss the way your thighs tense like you don't know whether to close them or not.

"Because I want to see if I can make you scream just as loud." He crashes his lips down on yours, making you squeak in surprise before you finally let him in, moaning when his tongue rubs over the roof of your mouth.

You thought your thoughts about Eren would change if you were sober, but he's just as addicting as he was that night, and you find it difficult to object to anything he's doing.

He crawls with you as you move up further on the bed, your body flushing hot all over. He works your shirt off, throwing it somewhere off to the side before trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck before moving to your chest.

Your hand makes its way into his hair, messing up the bun that it was in as he mouths at your nipples, pulling the taut bud with his teeth and his fingers before switching. "Did I ever tell you that you have nice tits?" he tells you with a playful smile on his face as he fondles them, and you scoff at his childish comment as you shift on the bed, the rough abrasion of your shorts against your crotch becoming extremely uncomfortable.

He works his shirt off as he slides down your body, his lips just grazing your skin to be teasing, and he unbuttons your shorts, peeling them off your legs, letting out a huff when his eyes land on your panties.

"You're so fucking wet," he mumbles, and you hiss at the cool air hitting your sensitive core when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs. You start to say something when he doesn't move, but you let out a low moan in surprise when he licks a broad stripe up your folds.

Your back arches off the bed at the sudden stimulation, and he lays an arm over your hips to keep you still, his other hand digging into the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you spread open. "And you taste so fucking good," he groans as he moves from licking between your folds to flicking at your clit.

"Fuck, Eren," you whine, pulling at the roots when his tongue prods at your hole.

"Come on, baby, I know you can be louder than that," he challenges, pushing one of your legs over to give him more room. His tongue prods at your hole before he replaces it with his fingers, his mouth going back to focus on your clit.

He's already curling two fingers inside of you as he sucks on the bundles of nerves, pulling it into his mouth, before circling his tongue around the bud. What you definitely didn't forget was how amazing his head game was. Your toes curl as the grip on his hair tightens, and it takes a few more pumps on his fingers hitting that sensitive spot inside of you to make you cum, moaning loudly as your orgasm hits.

"There we go. That's better," Eren says before moving his tongue to your hole to lap up your release. You're panting as he moves back up towards your face, his covered in your release. "But I still think you can be louder."

"You sound like you're all talk," you challenge even though you're still breathless.

He chuckles darkly before getting rid of the rest of his clothes, putting himself right back over you. "Sounds like you're undermining my skills," he jabs back as he lines himself up.

"Sounds like you're overestimating yourself," you counter, but you trail off before you can finish the last word as he pushes himself in, and you both moan at the feeling.

"Shit, I'll never get over how amazing you feel," he breathes once he bottoms out, and you're urging him to move, which he quickly obliges, your mouth falling open at the feeling of being stretched out with every stroke.

He moves himself so that he's on his knees, your hips angled upwards as he thrusts into you way too slowly for your liking. "Come on, Eren," you whine, knowing he can make you feel way better than he is right now. "Fuck me harder," you plead, and he coos at you.

"Aww, but I'm trying to make love to you, princess," he drawls, and you groan in frustration as you try to move, but he holds you down, making sure he's the only one moving.

"I don't want you to make love to me," you whine, desperate to have him fuck you until you see stars.

"But I like seeing you beg for me, seeing you so desperate, it's cute, keep going," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Fuck--" He cuts you off with a sharp thrust, nailing your g-spot with ease.

"Me? Well, you're already doing that, sweetheart." You scrunch your nose at the stupid pet name, and you scoff before you smirk at him.

"As I said, you're all talk," you taunt. "Pretty sure Reiner could make me scream louder than you ever could." The playful demeanor in his face drops and his eyes are going dark, and suddenly he's pulling out of you, and rolling you onto your stomach.

He pulls you up to your knees, and he slams into you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion as your eyes roll back. "You think you're funny, huh?" he spits before pulling you to his chest by your shoulder. "You wanted to get a rise out of me so that I could fuck you like a filthy whore."

You can barely respond, your body feeling like it's being shocked every time he rams that spot, and you jolt when he pushes on your clit. "Already going stupid? I haven't even done anything yet."

He pushes you back down, pushing your back until your chest is flush against his bed. "You're such a needy slut, aren't you?" A smack to your ass, the sting snapping you out of your daze. "Answer me."

"Fuck yes!" You can barely get it out, your knuckles starting to hurt from how hard you're gripping the sheets.

"Who's fucking you this good?" You don't answer quick enough, it's not like you can, but that only makes him fuck you harder. "Who?!"

"You! God, Eren, you," you moan, and you release your grip on the sheets as you feel yourself starting to drool.

"Who owns this fucking cunt? Fuck." His head falls back on his shoulders as you clamp around him, and he pushes on your clit again when you don't respond.

"You, oh fuck, 's all yours." You buck your hips back, meeting his, and he smacks your ass again.

"Come on, baby, you can say my name." He sounds just as wrecked as you, and his name is the only thing you're coherent enough to say, and you know that you're loud and that anyone walking past the door or on the other side of the walls can hear you.

"Shit, your pussy is so," he cuts himself off with a groan, his body curling as he feels his high building up as you suck him back in.

"Eren, I'm--" You try to tell him that you're close, so close, but you can't, tears running down your face from the constant stimulation on that spot inside of you.

He responds with a groan, and you know he's close too, and the next thing you know, you're cumming hard, your body going rigid. Your orgasm triggers his, and he cums with a moan of your name, his climax hitting him so hard, he falls on top of you.

Both of you fall down on the bed, his ragged breathing fanning against your neck, and he rolls the both of you over before rubbing up and down your top half softly. "You okay?" he asks against your neck, and you can feel the smirk on your skin.

You respond with a content whine, and his grip on your waist tightens when you try to move. "Stop moving. I'm trying to cuddle you."

You scoff before chuckling lightly. "Since when you do cuddle?"

"Since now. Now, shut up, I'm trying to go to sleep."

You roll your eyes at the words, but there's no heat behind them, and you feel sleep catching up to you as well.

Eren Jaeger might annoy to no end, but maybe this isn't so bad.

#eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger smut #eren jaeger x you #eren yaeger x you #eren jaeger x black!reader #eren yaeger x black!reader #aot smut #snk smut #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #🛶.hoarny

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milkacchan · 4 years ago

Text

Request for anon: Ah!! My bad!! Didn't know you couldn't write controversial stuff!! I'll be happy to resend the ask!))May I have Enji, Bakugo, and Deku with a very punk S/O?-Anarchy anon

Bakugou:

• He thinks its very entertaining.

• V e r y

• He likes what you wear 🥺🥺

• He thinks they suit you

• they match your skin

• and your body

• thigh highs?? Yes.

• skirts??? He loves it

• tight jeans?? Baby pop the duck off

• studded collar? Y e s

• all your bracelets? Shits dope as duck

• Listen I know his parents literally work in fashion- but he did not inherit the genes needed to be good at it

• so you're gonna have to help hi

• and your make up blows him away

• You teach him how to do eyeliner

• bc we all know he abuses the power

• so you sit him down and you show him how you do yours

• and then you give him an extra eyeliner pen and he copies each step

• Now his eyeliner is sharp as fuck

• its great

• he'll help you dye your hair

• which you love because the feeling of him playing with you hair or running his fingers through it to even out the dyed strands feels like heaven

• you've fallen asleep from it before

• he thinks its funny

• bc here you are

• big scary punk babe

• falling asleep bc he's playing w your fucking hair

• HE LOVES YOUR ATTITUDE

• There just this ion give a fuck attitude that punks have

• and he lives for it

• except when it comes to school

• or anything else productive

• so basically just when you're dealing with other people

• bc he's absolutely on your ass about grades

• he'll come w you to get new piercings

• stick n pokes are a no go tho

• seriously he'll flip lmaoo

Deku-

• Bro you and Dekj are literally the opposite

• he's ✨🧚‍♀️🥰😍💋💫❣❣

• a fucking bottom

• and youre 🤬👺😈💢♠️⛓💉🩸🗡

• its very amusing to see a babey decked out in black and blue and purple with crazy fucking hair, screamjng profanities at some bitch who had the misfortune of messing w ur bf

• and then a broccoli boy w green hair panicked and trying to pull you away from the fight

• :)

• he's enamored with your makeup tho

• heavy eyeliner?? Yes

• blush??? Yes.

• eyeliner in places thats not your fucking eye? Yes.

• Black lipstick? Yes.

• Babey wants to try and to it 🥺

• its harder than he thinks

• he's looking at the best he just made on your eyelids and he's like 😓

• he likes to try on your jewelry too!!

• just chill with it throughout the day

• like he'll walk into class one day wearing your spiked choker and no one bats an eye

• bc they just know

• its a deku thing

• or he'll come in wearing your cool hand chain things on days they don't have to train

• or your bracelets!

• also?? He sees your coping method of piercings

• and that you do them yourself

• and he'll watch as you do it like 🥰🥰

• he'll make sure its all safe tho!!!

• just because you're punk doesn't mean you can't be safe!!!!

• he likes to see all your cool pins :(

• he'll steal those too

• @ arthur making a fist meme pin

• your favorite one

• he SNATCHES

• HE JUST TAKES IT

• AND YOURE LOOKING FOR IT

• UNTIL ONE DAY YOU SEE IT ON HIS MOTHER FUCKING BACKPACK

• n your like sir??????

• whomst??

• you can't take it from him tho 😔

• he's just too cute and he'd be sad if you took it

• he'll sometimes pick your outfit to go out

• or he'll have you style something he can wear so he looks 😤😤 too

• and its a vibe

Enji:

• You'd never think

• THE Enji Todoroki

• would end up

• w someone

• like

• you

• He's a very composed man

• He dresses well, expensive designer brands

• he's always put together and well-mannered (for the most part)

• and then there's you

• the fucking gremlin from hell that runs on caffeine and energy drinks that looks like a hottopic advertisement

• Its awesome tbh

• Shouto LOVES you

• Bc you're in your late 20's- Early 30's and you fr just living not giving a shit

• Not acting like his mother

• knowing you have like 0 authority over him

• just fucking vibing

• And somehow you managed to snag his dad??

• youre the embodiment of ill marry your date and make you my stepson bitch

• he's like yo, I see you

• Enji lowkey (highkey he just doesn't think its obvious) finds it hot

• that you dress the way you too

• and your attitude

• it just does things to him

• he just really really likes the vibe

• theres an excitement of finally just letting go and saying fuck it after a long day of being composed

• and it appeals to him

• I feel like lowkey part of the punk vibe is making/thrifting/mismatching clothes and just good hard as fuck

• like

• I got these pants from Walmart, this shirt from 7/11 that I cut up and I found these shoes behind the dumpster of an Arby's so here we fucking go

• so when he buys you fancy and expensive punk shit you're like 😤😤😤

• but also like 👁👁

• bc get that bread sis

• mans just watches you kill your hair with bleach and hair dye

• "Would you like me to call and schedule and appointment with Fuyumis hair stylist?" He asks with confusion

"No!! We're fucking shit up is what we're doing. We HAVE to do it this way!!!!"

"Okay, would you like help? I can try the best I'm able to,"

"Aw bby, help is for the week."

• you end up needing help to get the back lmaoooo

• you do your own haircuts

• bc like I said

• fucking shit up

• thats the vibe

• m u l l e t

• PLEASE

• or you know the girls that cut lil bits of their hair so short it looks like lil horns??

• please do that

• I promise he'll get rlly soft about it

• "I believe it suits you," he'll say softly, running his fingers through the ends of your hair

"Thanks, I fucked it up and went for it."

• he tends not to curse as much

• so

• :)

• you'll curse for him

• some shit goes wrong? You're right next to him?

• get ready for the storm bb

• "oh you mother fucking cu-"

• he honestly doesn't mind the mouth

• bc like I said before

• its refreshing for him to know he can come home and not be expected to be composed

• He will absolutely be willing to pay for whatever tattoos you want

• and honestly just take him up on it bc tattoos are expensive like

• 3 letters is like 150 bruh

• but!! Piercings are done at home!

• unless they're in your mouth :)

• tongue piercing or that peircing above your teeth

• he won't let you do shit like that at home

• when you did get them he helped you take care of them

• but esr piercings are free game

• overall he's very very supportive in the way you dress and act all around• he really doesn't mind at all

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bella-donna418 · 4 years ago

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Livestreaming on YouTube w/ Mikasa

A/N: An HC I need to write rn bcs I might forget it later.

More modern AU vlogs bcs why not.

AND this is somewhat livestreaming 👀👀

~~~

So the house has like this recording studio/room for Mikasa because a few people (Sasha, Connie, Zeke (surprise he knows), Armin and Annie) know she's VERY good at singing)

And since they couldn't think of what to do with an extra room in the house because like, the house is huge asf and you'll need to fill EVERYTHING up.

So let's get to the point.

Sasha usually forces Mikasa to try at least livestreaming on YouTube because she BARELY has any videos.

Mikasa's like, "Sasha, no."

And Sasha would do all desperate pleading sh!t which annoys Mikasa to the point she sighs and says, "Fine. Just once. But DON'T tell anyone."

And Sasha was so happy.

Then ends up doing the opposite (the irony ik)

She's like, "She'll livestream later. Y'all gotta watch it."

And they're like, "Why?"

And Sasha looks at her fellow comrades from the "we know she can sing so good" club and they're like "oHHH—"

And the others who don't know are like '???' and just shrugged.

So here it is.

Sasha is with Mikasa in the recording studio/room and everyone is like somewhere else but they're watching ON someone’s phones and waiting for the countdown to end.

Sasha is there for like reading some stuff/song requests for Mikasa while she's singing so they don't miss anything—also for operating things.

So the livestreaming countdown ended and finally!!

(I'm the one writing this but why do I feel excited LMFAOO)

Ok, so Mikasa went to the regular greetings of like, "Hello, everyone." (Sasha still busy setting things up)

And then... the others were like watching and they're freaking hyped.

Sasha then read the first request (from Twitter) "So, first song is Dangerous Woman."

Mikasa's like, "Seriously?"

Sahsa looking at her while eating some doughnuts be like, "Request is request."

Mikasa rolls her eyes and the music starts.

Ok let's go to the "watching in secret" crew because they're like "Holy sh!t, holy sh!t!" (Ymir the one saying that, gets smacked by Historia)

Y'all let's skip to the high notes, shall we? 👀👀

So when she LITERALLY hit that note Jean almost dropped the phone and everyone bonked him on the head (I mean who in the right mind would drop such expensive iPhone 12 pro?! They rich and all, but thrift is key and it’s something Erwin and Levi implemented)

Everyone went full blown kung fu beating up and screaming of admiration

The vets somehow hearing this then Levi and Erwin went inside the room where the noise was coming from to see the commotion.

Levi's like, "What the f%!k is this?"

Everyone snapping out and looking at him—fear now lingering.

Then Hanji passed by and decided to stop there (she’s like that parent who walks by and sees you then ends up saving your a$*)

And she's like, "YOU'RE WATCHING TOO?!"

And the people who are scared shitless nodded slowly.

Hanji was like, *le gasp* "OMG SAME!!!! SHE'S SO GOOD AT SINGING, RIGHT?! SHE DIDN'T EVEN TELL!!"

Levi and Erwin giving her weird looks—gets ignored though.

Hanji be running to them to join the fun making Levi groan and Erwin sigh as they went back to what work they were doing earlier.

Mikasa seems to be having fun, so she just continues while Sasha is recording on her own and literally laughing to herself because she's looking at her phone and their comments were being buried.

Until she saw the snowman request which was Armin's.

And she was now glaring at Sasha while she laughs it off.

Ignores it and sings it anyway (it's f!#$ing ✨i m m a c u l a t e✨)

So let's list down the songs Mikasa sang

- Dangerous Woman - Take me home (the Bebe Rexha one) - Lover (Taylor Swift duhh) - Willow (I can't help but think of T.S songs lol) - Play Date (Melanie!!!!) - Kings and Queens - Hallucinate - God is a woman - Positions - Driver's License - Snowman (Armin requested this!) - 34 + 35 - Imagine - Love story - Me! - Stuck with u - Blank Space - Can we kiss forever? - In the name of love - Ready for it - Break up with your girlfriend - 7 rings - Dancing with a stranger (sam smith omfg) - Without me - Wildest dreams (Most of the songs are literally Taylor Swift or Ariana Grande lmaooo)

Moment of truth: Everyone was staring at Eren like: 👀 who seem to be let's say... impressed (or something more than that but you get the point)

So when the livestream was over everyone (who didn’t know) was like 😳😳 "She could sing—I didn't know that...

When Mikasa ended her live, they both got out of the recording studio and went inside the room where everyone was, she was now getting lots of shocked looks which made her go like 😳 "Y-you guys—"

And Hanji (no I didn't forget she was with them) beamed at her and was like, "Mhm! You didn't tell us you could sing!"

Mikasa was then blushing like mad and looked at Sasha who smiled sheepishly and went on her way to the kitchen.

Jean was trying to keep his inner peace and not go all like, "AKNCJDSNJNABSJ" (ofc he fails and he left the place)

The people who knew, are just stiffling their laughters right now because (manisfesting EreMika) Eren is literally looking at her with a 'how come I do not know about this?' look and glanced at Armin.

Armin just grinned and shrugged.

Mikasa then left the room to go to the kitchen—maybe to scold Sasha or something—because SHE clearly didn't expect this.

She only has an idea that Armin, Connie, Zeke, Annie and Sasha knew about her ✨talent✨ in singing.

She went to the kitchen for some iced tea and glared at Sasha who grinned while eating her favorite chips, PRINGLESSSS (can I have some too?)

She just sighed and continued.

To be honest she had fun with it and decided she should do more of these when she's free of work (because everyone now knows so there's no turning back now)

In the future, she'll probably do more of those live singing or cover song vids. (She clearly loves singing and it relieves herself when stressed— and so she won't get bored and stop all her videos about how she's so bored asf lmaoo)

~~~

A/N: And that's the headcanon!

Another disappoint one I believe.

I was like, why not make her do a livestream on YT where she sings for like an hour or smth

*adds a subtle EreMika bcs it's my OTP*

She now has an addition to her channel which is cover songs lol (assistant/manager is Sasha duh)

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sunlightandsuffering · 4 years ago

Note

We’re basically writing corruption porn 🧍🏻‍♀️ didn’t even realize 😭 anyways I’m still on the road 🙄

Drunken encounters 🏃🏻‍♀️ same au because I’m on a roll lmaoo. They’re both drunk at home bc mikasa prefers being drunk in her own environment rather than a big scene (mikasa is giggling which is always a good sign and eren is a bit more than tipsy) they start on opposite sides of the couch then miki is sitting in his lap and at one point of the night she’s resting on his thigh, one leg on either side of it. Erens hands are resting on her own. Baby gets a funny feeling in her tummy and tells him but he just laughs. Slowly sliding his hands to her waist, his leg shifts the tiniest bit. Oh boy does that get her…. almost crumples into his chest because something felt so good and she doesn’t understand. Eren can’t help but ask her what’s wrong (he already knows stupid asshole) he’s once again feigning ignorance and uses the grip he has on her waist to rock her once on his jean clad thighs and asks if that’s what she meant. This time she’s fallen forward and is panting so softly next to his ear and they’re both in a drunken haze when he promises her that he can make her feel good just like that if she lets him and she agrees. He spends the next hour or so rocking her slowly on his thigh, bringing her to the edge but never letting her come or go faster until the very end. There’s just a pile of mikasa jelly at the end of it… she passes out on top of him right after 💀 he just knows he’s been ruined for every other girl because if he can fucking come in his pants from those pathetic little noises she made… he’s so fucking whipped.

I made the executive decision that Eren is also in denial as much as he accepts loving mikasa 🙄 lost his shit the second he processed it. Unintentionally mean maybe? Frustrated at the fact that he likes her? Maybe but he could never hold too much of a grudge. Not against her. Who knows 😌

Omg and about her touching herself to Eren and whoever he’s screwing:

Though she likes to believe she’s grown immune to the lewd slaps of skin hitting skin and high moans of the girls Eren brings home, the walls are kinda thin and she can hear everything. He teases her calling her a pervert asking if she likes it and of course she says no…

-🍑

BABE EDGING AND THIGH RIDING??? ADFS;JKL CAN U STOP, UR RUINING ME, HOW AM I JUST SUPPOSED TO GO ON AFTER THIS??

AGH, that's just a fucking lethal combination, HOT! But also his abs too. They're wrestling which is a common occurrence because Eren MAKES SURE, it's a common occurrence because pinning Mikasa underneath him and having her completely at his mercy is his absolute favourite pastime. Perfect excuse for all the little touches he wants and sometimes he takes his shirt off and convinces her she should too because 'you're hot too right Miki? you don't want to get your shirt all sweaty right babe?' and then one day Mikasa does it and she actually pins him, well he lets her pin him and she's wearing those tiny biker shorts he loves so much that show off her ass and she ends up straddling his stomach and he moves just a bit and she bites her lip and then after that it's all over because Eren knows. He knows exactly why she's biting her lip and now clamouring to get off him but he grabs her hips to keep her in place because 'Miki we're having fun, don't leave now, it's been a while since we've hungout like this and I've missed you.' It hasn't actually been a while but Eren knows exactly what to say to get her to stay and he ends up rocking her over his abs and getting her all worked up while he talks her through it, asking her all kinds of questions and watching her struggle to reply coherently until finally he grinds her particularly roughly over the hard ridges of his abs and after that she's gone and Eren lets her fall onto him in a slump, telling her she won the wrestling match.

omg 🍑 anon why are we like this?? WERE JUST OUT HERE WRITING CORRUPTION PORN ADSF;JKL I hope ur having a good road trip peach anon, 10 hours sounds like absolute hell

#this really got away from me #btl💕#besties to lovers ♥️#besties to lovers

11 notes · View notes

oppabimbab · 5 years ago

Text

chasing euphoria | jeon jungkook

genre : angst, smut

parts : 2/2, (part 1)

pairing : jungkook x reader

synopsis : you didn’t see it coming when jungkook confessed that he likes you. how can you expected that coming when he is the person that your best friend is in love with? no matter what happens; you can’t be in love with him so it ends with rejection from you to him. but why does some kind of spark starts to twinkle in your heart, especially when he is no longer making his way, to you?

side note : this short fics didnt turn out like i want because my mind stucked but i gotta finish it or i will forget about its existence lmaoo. i wanted it to be a heavy smut but turns out to be some kind of failed angst and only a lil smut. i hope you enjoy this jungkook fic and im gonna work harder in my upcoming fics uwu love u guys

words count : 4875 words

✻ Fanfics Archive ✻

Few days have passed already. Nothing has changed particularly except the fact that you have become a complete stranger to him. Everything is only business—like from the first time. For some reason, you can’t blame him for keep the distance between both of you—no matter how professional he is. If you were him, you sure don’t want to see that person who already made it clear—that they don’t want you.

You’re not blaming him.

You are not sure what state are you in right now. There will be time—where you would find yourself scrolling through the old messages between you and him at night before you can feel your heart clenches a lot for no reason. You would bury your face on the pillow and it left with a small trail of tears on it.

You cried sometimes, it can’t be helped.

And the next moment—you find that you’re all good even the work required you to meet each other’s eyes and talk like nothing happened behind this work. You can stand like a confident woman even every time he looks at you—you see that woman, who changed his eyes.

It’s confusing sometimes.

You stare at the huge building in front you as you tighten the heels on your feet. Out of 365 days—why do they need to hold the college reunion at times like this where you don’t feel like going, at all?

You flinch for a second when you suddenly heard Chaeyoung calls your name as she comes closer to you—running giddily on her high heels, tighten her hands around his boyfriend before the couple stand in front you—with a huge smile plasters on her face.

Looking at Chaeyoung, you finally remember the conversation you had with her—that left you with so much questions and grief.

“Are you serious right now?” Chaeyoung laughed hysterically as she widen her eyes at you—probably not believing what you just said just now.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, resting your head on the headboard. She chuckled at your remarks.

“Jungkook is only a crush. Did you really think I plan to go any further with him just because I spent most of the time talking about him?” she shook her head, still laughing like crazy every time she remembered your dead serious face when you asked her about Jungkook.

“I don’t know. You were really into him back then. I was scared to even tell you about my work place,”

She scrunched her nose.

“Idiot. So what, if you work at the same place with him? Do I need to be jealous? Babe, I have a boyfriend,” she giggled, making you widen your eyes at her before you sit straight.

“You do?” you squeaked—that was the last thing you would expected from her, your shy and passive bestfriend. Damn. So, you have been worrying for nothing, haven’t you?

She nodded with a smile. Your mouth was opened slightly but nothing came as you have lost any words. What were you going to say anyway? Your wild dream where he is fucking you damn hard and rough?

“Do you like him?” Chaeyoung munched on the chip, cocking an eyebrow at you while squinting her eyes. There was an obvious suspicion in her voice as she looked at you with a smirk across her lips.

You almost choked on the coke—quickly wiping the residue in the corner of your lips before you brought your gaze to your best friend. Of course, she knew. You were a bad liar.

“No. I don’t. What do you mean?” a faint chuckle escaped your mouth. Chaeyoung scoffed.

“Whatever. I can’t blame you if you do. He is damn gorgeous and hot. How the hell you don’t go head over heels for him where you see him—almost everyday?”

You cracked a soft smile. For sure, Chaeyoung ain’t wrong.

Straightening the little velvet dress that have been wrapping your body, both of you and Chaeyoung go inside along with her boyfriend—you can’t help but reminiscing back all of the images from college days as those familiar faces start to squeal when they see you.

It’s definitely a reunion when you see Taehyung and Tzuyu—still head over heels with each other even so many years have passed. You roll your eyes when you see that tall guy would comes closer to her girlfriend and whispers some thing, making her giggles like a school girl.

Nayeon still looks the same—just as sassy and loud as she was before but the only difference is, she comes with her husband, Namjoon. There is an obvious spark on her face—staring at him like no one exists except for him. No longer that single hottest girl in the campus.

Talk about Seulgi—your sweet and shy nerdy desk mate finally becomes a fiancé to Jimin, one of the hottest athlete who used to hit on her like an annoying brat. You still remember how Seulgi always whine at you about the bratty Jimin but end up falling for him.

Life is weird, huh? No, love sure is weird.

“Oh my god! You look so good,” Irene looks at you from head to toe—wiggling her shoulder like she just saw a celebrity. You giggle a little at her sudden gesture which is making everyone to look at you. You receive a squeals from them before the party officially starts.

Everything is fine. You like the food—the musics they are playing—the conversation you between those ex-classmates, talking about future jobs and marriage—the way they bring you into the conversation, knowing how quiet you can be sometimes. You love the environment.

It definitely brings you back to good old days.

Part of you are excited to be in this circle but part of you seems like missing. It’s left empty—especially when everyone is here with a company, unlike you. You try to comprehend this weird feeling as you unintentionally space out in your own thoughts. What are you missing?

You lost in your thought until you hear the girls are squealing and screaming before you look up, bringing your curious gaze just to meet those deep eyes, again. You see him, standing there in black coat and skinny black jeans—showing off his broad shoulder and long legs. Both of you exchange eye contacts for few seconds before he looks away as the boys and girls hover all over him.

Your eyes twinkle at him before it disappear when you finally acknowledge that he doesn’t come alone. The same woman you saw few days ago—is there, looking just as ethereal as he is. Looking like they are perfect for each other, leaving you to feel small.

The same ache inside your chest, starts to throb again.

“Our student council everyone!” Taehyung wraps his arms around Jungkook’s shoulder as he gives some space for him and his girl. You sit across the table, trying to look busy with your untouched food. Chaeyoung glances at you with her raised eyebrow and lifted lips. She grins at you, knowing exactly what’s in your mind. She knows you don’t want to say anything about this so she chooses to keep quiet and let you in your own world.

Just like that—you spend the entire night, sitting there spacing out and playing with the untouched food that is making your appetite to die. You would glance at the short haired girl beside him—smiling and laughing along with them so well. Not to forget, the way Jungkook would pull her closer to his side—looking at her like his life depends on it without noticing, you are here, stealing few glances from afar.

It’s crazy painful for some reason. Not once, he brings his eyes to you—looking at you like he always does. You feel completely small over here, like your existence feels like an absence to him. It kills you inside to carry this unfamiliar pain inside your chest every time he smiles at her.

You wonder, when will this misery end? Why does your heart scream—for him?

“Drive safely,” you lower your body, looking at Chaeyoung and his boyfriend inside the car.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to drop you at home?” Mark frowns at you when you eagerly convinced them that you can go home by yourself even it’s already past 12 am. Chaeyoung pouts, you giggle at her drunk self.

“That’s fine. I can manage this. Bring her home safely,” you say as you take a few step backward from his car. Both of them finally agreed and the next second, the couple disappear from your sight which is leaving you alone in front the building. The place is still busy so you don’t mind spending some time to find a cab.

Your body sores a lot, the heels on your feet feels like a thorn. You don’t care about anything else because all you want to do is going home. Today is pretty tiring already.

You heave a sigh before you wait patiently at the side, to stupidly looking for any cabs or public buses Even for sure, it’s hard to find ones at this hours. The fact that you reject all the ride offers, amaze you. What the hell are you thinking?

“Hey,” a faint voice suddenly fills the quiet place, making you to look back before your heart thumps at the sight.

It’s Jungkook.

You steps aside, to give him some space. His sudden appearance makes your heart races—especially when he cracks a small smile at you.

“Are you waiting for cabs?” he adds, bringing his gaze at the road before he looks back at you. You nod, silently. Curling your lips, you look at him and smile.

“Why are you still here?” you ask him out of curiousity. Well, you are more curious to why he is here instead of being with his girlfriend

Jungkook hums.

“I know you always wait for a cab so I thought....of checking up on you,” he rubs his nape while chuckling at himself—making you to smile. Despite his masculine look, his shy side is interesting to you. They are very rare yet interesting whenever he decided to show them.

“I can send you home if you want,” he adds. You shake your head slowly.

“That’s fine. Thank you,”

He nods.

A short silence fills the space between you too before you open your mouth again.

“Why are you here instead of being with your girlfriend?” you whisper.

He looks up at you to find your eyes.

“She went home already,”

You frown a little at the answer before you nod silently. It’s a little weird for a boyfriend to let his girlfriend to go home by herself but you are not in that place to say anything about his personal life.

Silence again. Swear it kills you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name. He hums.

“I’m sorry if I’ve hurted you in some kind of way that I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” clenching the purse around your hands, you meet his eyes again. This time, no one looks away. It’s just you and him—everything is fading.

“You don’t need to apologize, you know that right?,” he smiles but why does it hurt you?

“I need to.” you stare at him.

“I want to understand why am I feeling this way for past few days. I mean...don’t you agree we are getting too distant from each other now?” there is a hint of pain your voice, trying to make him see your point.

You are hurting.

“I don’t want us to be that way,” you inhale some air.

“But, today, I think it’s better for us to stop seeing each other like we used to so...you can’t hurt me, I can’t hurt you and...we can’t hurt her,” you can feel your tears are pooling in your eyes before you shake your head, to make them go away. He still there, looking at you, can’t believe what just came out from your mouth.

Before he could say anything, a cab is passing by and you immediately wave at the driver to stop. Looking back at him, your heart breaks a lot.

Being with him is one of the moment that you would look forward the most every day—he makes you secure, he makes you share things with him, whom you never thought the person would be him. It’s crazy to see you cross path with the least expected human being in the world just to end that this way.

For real, he makes you want to be with him all the time. But, you can’t do that anymore.

You come closer to open the car door. before you comes inside, you look at him with a smile.

“The time we shared were great. Thank you,” you crack a smile even your heart is bleeding so much. You could cry anytime soon but you need to grip on yourself. Just a few seconds.

Nothing comes out from his mouth. Not sure if he has lost at words or else so you take it as an okay from him.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you say;pulling the car handle to close the door before he comes closer along with the darkened eyes and clenched jaw. He is flaming with anger all over his body.

Before you can say anything, he grabs your wrist and pull you out from the back seat, making you stumble on your heels as he brings you to somewhere far from the car. Your eyes widened at his sudden action.

“Jungkook! What the hell, stop!” you almost yell as you look at his stiffed back while he pulls you with so much intense. His jaw clenched, his eyes darkened, his voice—it is full of tension. He says nothing, tightening the grip around your wrist.

“Jungkook!” you call him again when the heels are clanking on the ground with so much rush, making you almost trip and break you ankle. Few seconds after, he stops and pushes you slightly against the cold wall along the alley before he traps you between his firm arms. You whimper at the coldness on your back.

“What are you trying to pull?” he grunts—looking straight to your eyes with fiery fire. Even under such dim lights, you can see his eyes gleaming with anger—so much anger which is keeping your feet static on the ground. His face is only few inches apart for yours, making his hot and minty breath brushing your skin slightly.

“W-what do you mean?” you squeak—looking back to his eyes even deep inside, world knows how dangerous can they be. Your legs become wobbly when he makes the gap between you and him disappear as he comes closer.

“Why are you telling me goodbyes even you feel like crying?” he groans.

You are taken aback at his words. How the hell he sees that?

“Why do you drive me this crazy?” nails clawed on the wall, he pulls away from you as he runs both of his hands through his long hair, looking frustrated as ever. It leaves you confused. What makes him changed this much? Why does he look like a beast. A sexy beast.

but The only question is why is your core pooling and wetting the panty when you see those eyes and hear that raspy grunts from him?

“Let me go. I want to go home,” gaining your strength to stand properly, you glare at him just to find his burning eyes again. You can clearly see the veins along his jaw and neck—leaving you breathless.

“Why are you such in denial? I don’t understand,”

“What are you trying to say, Jungkook?! I’m confused. Can you just say what you want and let me go?” you voice screeches a few octave when you no longer can hold the sudden pissed off in yourself.

“Do you love me?” he whispers.

Silence. Intense eye contacts.

“No, I don’t. Can I go now?” God know how bitter it sounds like in your throat when you say those poisonous words. How the hell your mouth says no but your heart says the otherwise? He heaves a sigh, coming closer to you, faces few inches apart.

He stares at you. They have changed. His eyes. No more fire—no more anger. Just pearls and..love. Your heart is thumping hard like it’s going to burst anytime.

“Say that again,” he stops, taking some time to calm himself.

“Say that again and I will let you go. Say that before we stop looking at each other again,” his voice becomes lower like he is hiding a pain behind that. There is silence between you two as you stare into his eyes, trying to contain this pain inside your chest.

His eyes—they always speak louder than anything and seeing those, make your heart feels nothing but ache.

A small trails of tears start to stream down to your cheeks, to your chins before it drops, wetting your dress. You can’t look at him on the eyes anymore so you look to your feet while sobbing softly. You’re not sure how you look like right now but definitely a mess.

“I can’t do it,” you cry. The small alley is filled with your sobbing as there is no reaction from him.

The next second, he lifts your chin before you meet his eyes again. You look at him with a teary eyes before he comes closer.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You nod.

Just like that, he crashes his lips against your mouth with so much force, sealing every part of his lips with yours—not leaving any space untouched. Taking a piece of clothes on his chest, you pull him closer to you, making him to bring his hand on your jaw.

He grunts in the kiss—licking your lower lip to give him the access before you open your mouth just for him to hover them with his tongue. You know he can taste the salty water from your eyes.

You haven’t had such a sweet kiss. Every part of his mouth, tastes damn sweet.

Sucking on your mouth for the last time, he pulls away from the kiss as both of you pants for air like crazy.

“Damn it, I want you so bad,” he whispers.

“Ah!” you whimper as Jungkook crashes his lips along you neck with his hands travelling on your exposed thigh. He presses you against his marble wall before finding your mouth for hundred times, kissing them deeply.

A small yelp escapes you lips when he palms your soaking core—the thin fabric of the panty do no justice to his warm and slender fingers, that are rubbing your clothed clit. You moan to the air.

“Wet as hell,” he grunts, looking down at his fingers while grabbing your hips to support you against the wall. You spread you legs wider, making him chuckle out of joy.

“Impatient, huh?” he whispers as he hovers your mouth for the last time before bringing his hands to the hem of your mini dress. The next second, the sound of ripping fills the room as he rips your dress , leaving you only with bra and panty. Your eyes widened.

“I just bought it!” you whine at him only to receive a boyish chuckle from him as he looks straight to your soul.

“I can buy you a new one,” he whispers—rubbing your wet clit with his fingers and trailing a sloppy kiss along your neck—causing you to moan out loud. You throw your head when he quickened the fingers pace, twirling them to torture you even more.

“Ah! Jungkook!” you moan, grabbing both of his shoulders for support before he unclasp your bra. Grabbing your hips, he lifts you up against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Why are you so wet when you don’t even love me?” he groans on your neck, biting and licking them to bring you to another universe. Your vision and mind seem like it’s leaving your system when you can feel nothing but his touch.

He pulls his fingers away from your clit, making you whimper at the sudden missing touch. Then, with one gesture, he unbuckles the belt and pull down the pants, causing the huge throbbing buldge under the boxer to touch your inner thigh. Along with that, he pulls your panty—showing the soaking wet pussy to his sight.

Another moan and faint grunt fills the room. You look down at him and find his darkened gaze. His gritted teeth, clenched jaw. How the hell this sweet man turns out to be this aggresively sexy beast? Your core is throbbing a lot at the sight. Slowly, he rubs his clothed bulge on your pussy while keeping the eye contact with you—not leaving your eyes while he abuse the pussy.

Mouth opened, you moan while staring at him. Both of you pant hard, chest pounding against each other as he quickened the pace—causing you to grip on his shoulders, even tighter. Your body bounce, synchronizing with his pace.

“Did....you do this with her?” a faint voice escapes your lips along with the endless moans. He groans while clenching his jaws. Moans and moans.

“Do you want me to?” he asks you back before tugging on your hardened nipple with his teeth—making you to lose your mind immediately. You’re sure he can feel the dripping juice on the tip of his head as you almost find the climax at the intense rubbing.

You don’t answer him as you throw your head and moans like a weak kitten. His twirls his tongue on your bud—kissing and sucking it while rubbing your pussy with his member.

“Answer me,” he slaps your ass, making you yelp.

“N-no,”

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip to refrain yourself from moaning even more. You’re so close to your orgasm before he suddenly stops. Opening your eyes, you see his throbbing cock—raw and hard. Before you could say anything, he pounds inside you—grabbing your hips to come closer to him.

“Ahhh!” you scream out of pleasure at the sudden contact as he starts to move without letting you to adjust to his size. He thrusts slowly before pulling them out, to make you whine again and again. He smiles before slamming into you again, burying his cock into your pussy as he starts pounding back and forth.

You moan out loud at his cock stretching inside you—your body bounce against the wall while wrapping your legs around his waist to ease the tension. The slapping sound fills the space, like it is a background music both for you and him.

You meet his eyes and just like before, his eyes never left yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes on your collarbone, clenching his jaw as he pounds your pussy. You feel the butterflies at his words. His eyes—speak thousand love and adoration. Only for you.

“You don’t know how I want to fuck you this way,” he whispers—causing your butterflies go wild in your stomach.

“Do you love her?” closing your eyes shut, you whisper.

“I don’t,” he says. Not sure why but your heart feels like it got lifted.

“Do you still love me?” you moan at him—he smiles and quickened the pace. Oh god. It’s so fucking good.

“I fucking love you, so much,” he groans.

“I love every part of you. You don’t understand,” both of you moan when he find the sweet spot in your pussy. Your breath hitched—finding some air.

Suddenly, he pulls out from you and let you stand on your feet before he tells you to bend down. Just as confused as you are, you bend down, gripping on the cabinet with both of your hands before he slams inside you again.

Your body arches.

“Let me love you,” he bends down to you and kiss your nape while his hands gropping on both of your hips, forcing you to move along with the thrust. You whimper, biting your lower at the pleasure he is giving.

“Love me, then,” you say, peeking at him over your shoulder. He seemed speechless at your remarks before he slams into you again and again, abusing the pussy with his huge cock as he rubs your clit.

You moan his name. Both of you almost losing breath as you can feel the knot in your lower stomach, almost reaching the climax.

With the remained strength, you move your hips back and forth, causing his tip to abuse your walls again and again.

“Oh fuck. Baby, you feel so damn good,” he curses, looking at his dick pumping you while clenching his jaws. You hum and moan, peeking at him while moving rapidly.

“Jungkook...I’m coming,” you whimper. He kisses your nape.

“Do it for me. Cum for me,” his sweet raspy voice growls across his house—making you squirm around him. He moans, so fucking hot and sexy.

“Jungkook...” you call him. He hums.

“I love you,” you moan before you release the juice, coating his cock with the white substances. A trails of scream escaping your mouth when the next second, he fills your pussy with his warm thick cum.

Your body becomes sensitive after he pulls out, making it to twitch and flinch. When your legs feel like it’s going to collapse, Jungkook lift you up and place you on his lap as he sits on the sofa.

You can hear his heart beat is racing, His chest is pounding as you lay your head on his chest—catching some air after the intense fuck. With you Tugging on his arms, he wraps his arms around your hips as he brings you closer to his chest.

“Eunha is my ex-girlfriend,” suddenly, he breaks the silence.

“Our relationship has ended a year ago and she suddenly comes back to me,” he lifts your chin, making you to look at him.

“I was heartbroken when I sent you home, that night,”

“It was crazy for me to move on when you don’t want me like I wanted you,” his eyes changed. There is a pain and sorrow—along with that voice.

“I thought, giving another chance to love her like I used to, would erase you from my mind but the more I look at her, the more I think of you,”

“So, rather than hurting her, I broke the relationship again,”

He stares at you like he is telling you how heart broken he was. Just like you. His bright eyes, his pouty lips, his charming smile—you didn’t know you have been missing him this much. Straddling on his laps, you bring your hands on his face.

You miss every part of him. The way he looks at you this way. The way he talks to you this way. You thought you have lost them all but when you see the familiar spark on his eyes—they are still there. Tears prick on your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lower lip while rubbing your thumbs on his cheek, taking every part of his face into your sight.

You love this man. So much. Not sure when did it start but you know you love him when the thought of him not being yours—hurts you bad.

“I’m sorry for making us this way,” you squeak with tears falling down your cheeks. Brushing the hair from your face, he leans closer and sealing your his lips with yours. Every time he kissed you, you feel like you’re on the cloud nine. It feels like a dream. The way he moves his mouth on yours, you don’t want him to go.

“I thought we will be okay but why does it hurt me so much to see you with her”

You can feel your heart clenches at the thought.

“I love you. I love so much,” you sob when he pulls away from the kiss—staring at your messy face only few inches apart.

He chuckles. Rubbing his thumb across you cheeks before he pecks your nose.

“I know that,”

“I love you too,” he whispers. Your tears flow even more as you wrap your arms his neck and cry on his shoulder. He chuckles as he let you to calm down, letting go the pain in your chest for a while. He secures your waist around his arms, bringing you closer to his embrace.

When you finally calmed down, he looks at you with a grin.

“So...” he bites his lower lip.

“Are you mine?”

You giggle, scrunching your nose at him.

Jungkook grins, bringing his face closer to yours as he speaks,

“Tell me,” he chuckles. With that, you nod with a smile.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,”

He laughs before he takes your face in his hand as he hovers your mouth for millionth times with the other hand, grabbing your hips to grind on his hardened cock, again.

You squeal—completely ready to give your all to him.

i think im failed at this one but whatever, check out my other smuts thirsty hoes *chef’s kiss*

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #taehyung #namjoon #suga #yoongi #hoseok #j-hope #seokjin #jimin #bts imagines #smut #kpop imagines #2020

237 notes · View notes

lordseochangbin · 5 years ago

Text

Bad News

Smut, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: “Badboy” Lee Minho x Aspiring Writer

A/N: So I honestly didn’t want to publish this 4.1k baby because it’s so long but I had so much fun writing it LMAOO so when I finished I was like hmph why not :D After reading it again I realized it actually goes by pretty quickly so enjoyyy

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Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

So annoying.

You’re jotting down every note from this man, this doctor who claims that if humans eat raisins it will save their life from any harm. Evidence? Bullshit. But I suppose that’s what you have to do in order to get into Yale’s English department. Sir Lordseochangbin expects nothing but a good story and you already know he’s going to throw this one in the trash. Just like the others.

“... and so the texture of the raisin is very particular. Every ridge is filled with yum but it is also the color, OH the color! The color of the raisin is magnificent! People may mistake the raisin as a cat's disposal however…”

“Doctor!” you get up from your seat, closing your notebook and showing a fake smile of happiness to leave and resent of the wasted time. “I believe we should wrap this up, thank you for your time!” You tell him, shaking his hand before quickly running off.

“Take care!”

You enter the busy room full of books and posters. Had you never done your research on the professor behind the English department, you would’ve guessed this was some 17 year old fangirl obsessed with some hotshot korean rapper. Pictures of the man were everywhere and you couldn’t help but to cringe, was he obsessed with himself or something?

He’s sitting on a comfortable chair with a mirror in his hands, his fingers forming the classic ‘peace’ sign as he giggles in a cute voice “Mmhpm! Cute binnie! I’m cute binnie!”

You literally want to gag in your throat but okay. “L-lordseochangbin? Lord? Are you there?”

“Oh fuck” you hear in his normal voice as he slides the mirror under the desk and straightens his shirt.

“Ahem. Y/n, how can I help you?” You take a breath of relief to see him back to his old self before handing him your notes.

“I got a story, just wanted to know your opinion” you said with a grin.

He grabs the pack of papers out of your hands and looks at the first page. “How one doctor is raisin-g awareness about the new way to save lives” He reads in monotone before tossing your work on the floor.

Your heart is pulsing and your hands are fidgeting. This is fucking stupid. You don’t need Yale. Fuck it. Can’t deal with this stupid conceiting motherf-

“Y/n… sit down.” he takes a sharp breath before grabbing the mirror out the floor. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at myself?”

Not this bullshit again. “Lordseochangbin, what do you see?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

He looks into the mirror, winking at his reflection before answering “I see perfection. You know why? Because interesting shit happens in my life. They range from being thrown into a dumpster in Sri Lanka to marrying the love of my life, Mel. Like I said, terrifying yet beautiful experiences and what’s best is that I learned from it!”

“W-what are you saying?” You respond, leaning closer to him on your seat as you anticipate his response.

“The first story you sent me, the one about that boy. The boy in your story captured my eye. He helped others by secretly selling illegal drugs, donating the money to charity and supporting his family. I want more guys like him.”

“Like him?”

“Hmm… how do I say this in the nicest way possible? Y/n, get yourself out there man.” He says, sending you a look as if to sympathize with your loneliness

“Oh”

“Yeah.. now go get a life” He says, shooing you off before he could shut the door on you.

Wow. Okay. So not only did he throw away the story you spent 7 hours on but also told you to go do something with yourself?

You turn around, facing the closed door. “One day, I’m going to go inside that room and draw devil ears on every one of those fucking posters! Triangle headass!” You curse, rolling your eyes before hearing a quick “I heard that!” and running out of the building.

-----

You know what the funniest thing was about that story Lordseochangbin mentioned? You made up the name. Your high school memories were long gone and all you could remember was calling him “Daddy” every time he pushed you to the edge. In the story, you called him Eric but what was his name? You just couldn’t remember.

The high pitched screaming ringed through your ears as you remembered the times with “Eric”. You made those scenes extra spicy in your book, replacing high school jerseys with suits and lingerie, old school basketball games with extreme galas throwed by rich people. The whole story was like a perfect manhattan lifestyle until he broke it off with you.

And god, your safe word with “Eric” was the best part… like seriously? The number of times you screamed “CRANBERRY JUICE” as he fucked your insides out was insane and perfectly memorable. His face, unforgettable.

These vivid images ran through your head as you jumped into the taxi with your two friends. You, y/n, were bound to get into some trouble.

The night’s off to a boring start as you have time adjusting from candles and Netflix to DJ lights and drinks. You hit your tenth shot before your friends could pull you off to the floor. You sway your hips to the music, throwing your head back as you feel the beat pulse through you. Throwing your hands up in the air, you feel a tight grasp on your hips before turning around to see your friend.

“Yo. 9 0’clock. That guy has been checking you out, go get yourself into some trouble!” She says, pushing you in the guys direction. You start to stumble on your feet, letting the crowd of waving arms and stepping heels lead you to him before you're in his arms.

“Umm… are you okay?” He asks with a smirk on his face. This man is gorgeous up close, and that aching feeling between your legs is just hoping you can get a taste of those plump lips. The ones that lie agaped as he waits for your response.

“Oh right! Yeah, I-I’m fine..” you shake your head, stupid y/n. His arm finds itself around your waist as he guides you to the bar table, a glass of water in front of him.

“No drinks?” You ask with a smile. “I’ve had enough” He simply replies, taking a sip of his vodka as he looks across the table. You’re staring at his side profile and as much as you know you shouldn’t you just can’t help but to gaze at him.

“You’re perfect…” you mutter under your breath before he could turn his attention back to you, “What was that? Sorry the music is a little too loud” He apologizes as he leans in closer.

No..no no no. Please. He’s so close you can smell the cologne he’s wearing and god is it addicting.

“Umm…. hi!” You randomly spurt out, your hands grabbing his shoulders. At this point you are just wide eyed staring at each other, centimeters apart as your gesture seemed to pull you two closer. You have his full attention and you’re not sure what to do with it. The proximity is making your breath hitch and he’s staring at you like an eager kitten, pupils wide and a grin on his face.

“Umm.. hi” he mocks you, “What is it? Virgin that’s trying to get knocked up? Good girl trying to disappoint her parents in a club?”

“What?!” you reply confused, “Oh! Wait I mean I’m not trying to get knocked up and I think I’ve dissapointed my parents enough but you’re kinda hot so I mean I wouldn’t mind having sex with you NOT that I haven’t had sex before or anytime I mean I’ve madeout but like sex with you seems-” You realize how fast you’re talking and wince at his still expression, silence between you two for a few seconds before he finally says:

“Perfect, you’d look so pretty under me kitten” he whispers, his thumb holding your chin up as he pecks your lips.

You close your eyes into the kiss before he could say, “Strawberry chapstick, cute” Looking as innocent as a doll, you look up to him as he gets up.

He sends a wink in your direction before grabbing his jacket, “Let’s get out of here” You get a chance to look back to your friends before they mouth to you, “Use protection!!” and you laugh at their responses and the thrill that’s running through your nerves.

You two exit through the back, a motorcycle helmet in your hands as you throw your leg over him and settle on the backseat. Once the helmet’s on, he turns his head slightly as if to check on you and grabs your hands, wrapping them around his chest. His black denim jacket is covering your shoulders and his white tee is clinging to his body.

You y/n, you just got yourself into some trouble.

----

A million fans blowing at your face simply couldn’t compare to the cool breeze that blew past you as you find comfort on the motorcycle seat. Your initial goal is long forgotten, but this guy in front of you is already screaming danger and you love it.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your question being muted by a nearby car horn.

“Sorry, what?” he replies with a smirk before pulling to the side, pushing the kickstand with his foot and getting off the bike. You’re stunned when he takes off his helmet, his messy hair poking all over the place and when he uses his fingers to comb through his dark locks you realize you are absolutely done for.

“Did you ask something?”

“W-what’s your name?” you ask, your voice muffled because of the helmet. He simply chuckles as he takes the helmet off you, he’s so close that he can hear your shaky breaths and unsteady heartbeats.

“It’s Minho. Lee Minho… yours?”

Your nails grip onto the leather seat on the motorcycle as you attempt to get off when your dress gets caught on the bike. “Aw, fuck!” you curse yourself, you knew jeans and a jacket would’ve been a good idea.

“Woah, woah don’t worry I got you” He says, walking over to the other side of the bike before getting on one knee to help the situation. You’re trying your best to look away because this may or may not have been one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, one leg is mounted to the floor and the other is leaving you unbalanced on the other side of the seat.

“Nice panties by the way” he says with a smug look. Your cheeks are pink when you turn around to see that he's right in between your legs, the inside of your dress completely open for him to see but his eyes are still focused on that one knot that he’s been trying to untangle.

“Oh my god” you pant out, covering your eyes in humiliation. “This is so embarrassing”

“It’s nice to know you were serious when you said you wanted to have sex” his smile is hard to hide when he finally sets you free, the balance of the bike suddenly shiftng your weight as you fall towards him.

“Oh-” you let out as his eyes stare into yours. They’re literally shining, and maybe it’s the reflection of the street light behind you but it looks so magical in the moment as your hands wrap around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

His hands are around your waist, giving your ass a tight squeeze as he stands up, your lips still connected before he could pull away with a smile.

“You…” he says with a quick breath, “You never told me what your name was.”

----

At the sound of the elevator bell, your back is up against the wall. Minho is quick to get his hands on the bottom of your dress, slowly pulling it up to your waist as he presses kisses into your neck.

“The second I saw those white lace panties, I wanted them off you right away” He growls into your ear as he grabs your jaw.

Your legs stiffen as he presses your back on the wall and you gasp as he throws off his jacket, pulling his back tee over his head. “So.. so..” you stutter as your hands grab his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. His tongue is past your lips, his teeth biting down your bottom lip and you whimper at the arousal building up between your legs.

“Aw, what was that kitten?” He asks in a playful tone

“G-god stop teasing Minho.. just fuck me already” you whisper, your eyes close shut as the trail of wet kisses he’s leaving across your chest as he slowly takes off your dress. “Is this okay?” he asks as his hands go to your waist.

“It’s fine.. please just-” your lips shut as his attaches to your breast, the other one being groped by his hand as he massages it. His tongue swerves around your wet nipple as he flicks it softly, your cold buds hardening before he could suck on it harshly.

It’s a moment of pleasure until you feel your core pulsating, your hands diverging between your legs as you rip off your panties, fingers diving into your wet folds before Minho could slap them away.

“Who said you could fucking touch yourself?” He asks, making you whine at his words before he unzips his jeans. “This should fucking teach you a lesson…” His pants are on the floor and before you know it he’s carrying you bridal style onto the bed.

He’s leaning against the backboard, leaving you confused at the fact that you’re just lying there before he pulls his boxers down, revealing his cock covered with beads of pre-cum.

“M-minho..WAIT. Umm.. shouldn’t we make a safe word?” Minho looks at you in surprise before letting out a chuckle.

“A safeword kitten? C’mon, I can be rough.. but not that rough”

“Just say a word Minho”

“Strawberry-chapstick.”

“Strawberry...chapstick? O-oh.. okay”You stutter as you place yourself in between his legs. Your hands wrap around his member as you pump him up a few times, your tongue sucking on his tip as you leave his arousal all over your lips. When you go down on him, he lets out a loud moan, his eyes shut in pleasure as his hands go to your head.

“Nnngh, God.. you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth” he lets out, his eyes watching you attentively. A few more groans pass his mouth before he’s biting onto his lip, trying to let anymore out. When he feels you slowing down, he starts to thrust up your mouth, stuffing it with his cock and watching you gag on it.

“I-i’m so close kitten, I’m gonna fuck your mouth so good” he mumbles as his hips meet your face, your nails gripping onto his thighs as you feel that familiar twitch.

In seconds he’s laid back on the bed, his hands pulling you up to your face as you manage to swallow all his cum before he could align his cock with your entrance, quickly moving past them as he bucks his hips into yours.

“OH!” you scream, a mantra of his name leaving your lips. As if you haven’t said or thought of his name enough already. It’s the only thing on your mind when you’re staring at him in bliss, your hands on his shoulders as you sink down on him, just for him to hit your sweet spot again. The way his cock is stretching your walls feels so fucking good and you can’t come to terms on whether is pain or pleasure. It’s a pattern of thrusts and moans before it could grow slower and sloppier.

“I’m so close Minho, please fuck me Minho! Please!” You cry, his hands playing with your clit as he rubs his fingers on it. His hips buck into yours again, finding that same pace and you look helpless, letting him take over you as your breasts jiggle against his chest, mewls passing your lips.

“J-Just-” You stutter before you could reach your high, letting out a loud pornographic moan as he reaches for his own before filling you up. Your eyes close shut as you get up, falling on the bed next to him.

He lets out a long, exhausted breath before his hands could play with your hair, giving you access to lay on his chest before saying, “For a virgin.. you really know how to suck dick”

You nearly choke at his words before rolling your eyes, “I’m not a virgin”

“Ahh, that makes sense. Who was the lucky guy?” He says with a smirk, leaning down on the side of his bed to grab another liquor bottle and handing you a glass.

“He’s.. not sure how to explain it. High school friend I guess…” you reply as you take the drink down in one go and place it on his nightstand, cuddling into his arm as you start to fall asleep.

“Who was your first?” you mumble before your drink could get the best of you.

“Mine… she was in high school too. I had some shit going on though, couldn’t keep her. You know, it’s hard thinking my parents own some bigshot company, and I'm just here. Going to be heir to a billion dollar business and I just… can’t handle all of it. I’m here clubbing every night because I know no matter what I do I’ll never be able to impress them…”

---

Thank god. Thank GOD for that recorder you snuck underneath your dress. What you didn’t thank god for was all the times you screamed, “Fuck me! Fuck me!” God… it made you cringe in your seat. It was good sex though, you had to admit.

What you weren’t proud of was the fact that you didn’t get anything out of that night. No inspiration, no good story. No nothing. You slumped down your seat in exhaustion before you could hear Minho’s voice.

“It’s like I’ll never be able to impress them…” you hear him pause for a second before rewinding the tape and listening to what he said seconds before you fell asleep.

He has a story. Minho… he’s more than just a guy that goes clubbing and rides on his motorcycle and drinks every night. He’s a boy that was never loved by his parents, using his money to donate to charity, never knowing what his future lies of him as the heir to a billion dollar company.

“I trust you.. you know. I don’t know what it is about you but… oh, are you sleeping?” He giggles. You smile at how attractive his laugh is before looking down at his notes. Would it be bad to use these for a story? His life… as a book?

You remembered his sleepy eyes as he laid on the bed, you trying to put on your clothes in a hurry as you left the apartment without a sound. Should you have left? You throw your face into your hands before hearing the sound of his voice again.

“She looks cute with this cat filter” you hear him mumble before you could hear the click of his camera, a laugh leaving his lips as you could hear him close settle in his spot next to you.

“Fuck me, fuck me” He mocks in a high pitch voice before hear a starling snore. “Oh, she snores. Great.”

You mentally facepalm yourself before turning off the recording, leaning back in your seat as you stare at the roof wondering if it was worth it to break his trust like this.

“I gave you a day, y/n. Got any ideas?” You turn around to see Changbin leaning against the door before looking back at the recorder on your desk.

“I think I do. I’ll have it done in a week.”

----

A month passed and all of your dreams came true. Getting into Yale, publishing a book, and getting the status as an official writer. You regret giving yourself a deadline of a week, but when Changbin saw how well you were doing he extended it, knowing a book could never be done in a week, not even a month. You spent your days and nights on this however, the thought of Minho in mind was only brain fuel.

Some nights resulting in reaching your own high, but you couldn’t even count the number of men who passed by your apartment door. They weren’t just men, men from Yale, and were they hot.

You ended up asking them to leave however, knowing you had to get back to work. None of them used “Strawberry-chapstick” as a safeword. None of them took a cute cat filter selfie when you fell asleep. None of them were Minho.

----

Smile, sign the book, have a conversation and it’s the next person. Minho walked past the book-signing banner as he walked into the library, heading straight to the counter.

“So busy here, it’s not usually like this”

“Mr. Lee, there’s a book signing going on here. New author who just made her way to Yale, you should read her book.”

“Yale? It’s probably a book about Hilary or Bush, i’ll pass on reading about notable alumni” he sarcastically replied.

“Well if that’s the case sir, the kids are eagerly waiting in the room past the signing for you”

“Perfect, thanks..”

Minho tucks his jacket as he walks towards the kids room, catching a glimpse of the fan meeting as he walks by the crowd.

“Shit, shit! Hide me” You whisper, hiding behind Changbin’s back as you watch him walk by you.

“Y/n.. I’m your boss not your friend, get out there” he says, stepping to the side before you could make eye contact with him. You see him stop walking down the hall, his eyes staring right at you.

“Shoot, um changbin can you-”

“Sir you can’t come past this line, it's a book signing.”

“I need to talk to that girl!” Minho exclaims, pointing a finger at you as you continue to hide behind Changbin. Minho tries to fight off the bodyguards before you could tell them to let go.

Brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, you look down at his luxury shoes as you ask, “What are you doing here… you shouldn’t be here”

“I’m always here, the real question is” he looks off to the side, reading the name off the banner, “Y/n.. you left me that night”

You took down a harsh gulp before looking back up at him, “I did.”

He scoffs at your words, “Seriously y/n, you did? No fucking joke, I had no idea what your name was, who you were, all I had was this” he presses the button on his phone, lighting to show you his lockscreen of you sleeping with the cat filter.

“I’ve been thinking about you since that day y/n… please” he says, grabbing your hands in his and giving it a squeeze. You’re left speechless, not sure how to reply before Changbin interrupts you two.

“Y/n, it’s time. You! You must be a friend of y/n, check out her new book!”

Changbin hands him a copy and you try to grab it out of his hands, “No Minho you seriously shouldn’t…”

“Wait y/n this is crazy..” he says, swapping your hand away. He mumbles out the title ‘Bad News’ before turning around to read the description. “Bad boy with a bad reputation. Drugs, Drinks, and girls. A billion dollar company and parents that are more than disappointed. Choi Mino..”

He glares at the words before looking back up to you. “Minho… look I can explain-”

“Don’t bother” he says, dropping the book on the floor, “You could’ve at least thought of a better name for a dissapointment”

Minho bits his lip in anticipation of a response, another try to ask him to stay but you’re left without words. You don’t know how to explain yourself, you can’t.

“I-i’m sorry..” you whisper under your breath before Minho could roll his eyes at you and leave.

“Oh, where’d your friend go?” Changbin asks you, you turn around- trying to hold back the tears that were close to falling before facing the crowd of readers in front of you.. books in their hand and smiles on their faces. Posing a fake smile you grab the book that Minho dropped in your head, leaning against a table.

“Hello everyone, you know my name. I’m the author of Bad News.

86 notes · View notes

evietheninja · 4 years ago

Text

It’s on site, Bitch.

Side story to a fan fic my friends and I are writing. They wanted a fight, they got one lmao.

New Message!

Pikachu 2.0: Yo, what do you guys think of this?

Evie glances down at her phone, reading the message out loud to the guys accompanying her in the living room. Attached to the message is a poster for an event happening tonight. "2000s night huh?" Kiri asks sitting on the couch. "Sounds MANLY!" He practically yells, excitement in his voice. "When was the last time we all went out anyway?" He asks, looking over at Bakugo and Evie who are sitting on the floor. "It's been some time, that's for sure." Evie says, closing the picture and typing out a reply.

Glowstick: Sounds like fun!

PoisonIvyWHO?: CAN WE GET READY TOGETHER LIKE WE USED TO??

BigTittieGothGF: YESSS

Evie laughs as she looks over to the boys who are staring down at their screens as the messages come through. "What the fuck babe, you kicking us out?" Bakugo asks, a smirk across his face. "No, dumbass. I may be getting ready at someone elses place." She says looking back down at her phone.

PoisonIvyWHO?: Evie's?

BigTittieGothGF: YEah! Evie, you okay with that?

BakuBITCH: Really? We JUST got this fucking place and you're already kicking us out?

DaddyShark: That's not very manly of you guys.

Glowstick: Kiri.. We're not men..

Kiri laughs. "Why the fuck are you texting me that I'M RIGHT HERE." Evie and Bakugo laugh. "You fucking texted us instead of SAYING IT." She says, leaning on Bakugo as she laughed.

PoisonIvyWho: I'll be there in 20.

BigTittieGothGF: Too bad, Bakugo. We're already going. Get whatever ur wearing and GO TO DENKI'S

Pikachu2.0: Yeah... Cal already told me you guys were getting kicked. Sorry lmaoo

Bakugo rolls his eyes. "Well FUCK Kiri, I guess we're getting kicked out of our own place." He says, standing up. "Let's go pick what we're gonna wear and get out of here before the girls get here. I'm not trying to fight with Cal when she gets here, and lord knows Nina will tell me some shit and they're gonna piss me the hell off before the night even starts." Bakugo finishes, holding out a hand to help Evie up. She laughs, making a loud HUMPH as she gets up. "Babe, seriously suck it up stop being such a baby." She says, laughing.

"Shut the hell up, dumbass. I'll fight your ass too." He says, pulling her in for a kiss. "UGH GET A ROOOOOMMMMM" Kiri says, tossing a ketchup packet at them. "Oh my GOD Suki when did we adopt a CHILD?" Evie laughed pulling away from Bakugo. She picks the ketchup packet up and throws it back, casuing Kiri to swat at it. It hits the wall, splattering. "BRO WHAT THE FUCK" Bakugo yells, walking over to Kiri and grabbing him. "BRO SHE FUCKIN THREW AT ME WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?" Kiri yelled back, attempting to put Bakugo in a headlock.

Evie takes her phone and snaps a picture, sending it to the group chat.

Glowstick: Alright, who had two weeks?

PoisonIvyWho?: ME BEECH RUN ME MY MONEEEEYYY

Glowstick: *Paid PoisonIvyWHO? $20*

BigTittieGothGF: *Paid PoisonIvyWHO? $20*

Pikachu2.0: *Paid PoisonIvyWHO? $20*

BigTittieGothGF: Here's Shota's piece.

BigTittieGothGF: *Paid PoisonIvyWHO? $20*

PoisongIvyWHO: HELL YEAH IM GETTIN FUUUCKED TONIGHT!!

Pikachu2.0: You bet your ass you are. ;)

Glowstick: BROOOO

Evie laughed, watching the boys continue to wrestle. "Damn a little less clothing and I'd be questioning if I was just a cover up." She says, walking over to the hall towards her and Bakugo's room. Eventually, she heard the boys stop and she assumed one of them looked at their phone, because next thing she knew the boys were at the doorway, glaring at her.

"What?" Evie said, looking between the boys. "You fucking bet on us?" Bakugo says, his hands sparking lightly. "Hey, calm down. I wasn’t the ONLY one who bet. Even fucking Aizawa was in on it! You can't put that on me alone." She says, keeping her distance. "What were the lengths of time?" Kiri asks, genuinely curious. "Uh, Cal said 2 weeks, Ni said a week, Aizawa said an hour, Denki said 3 days." She says. "And YOU?" Bakugo asks. "Me? I gave you guys the benefit of the doubt and said a month. But nooooo." She says laughing. "ANYWAY. You two need to get the hell out.” She says, pushing the boys out of the room. “Wait, dumbass! I kind of need clothes to wear.” Bakugo says, pushing past her to get into the closet inside their room. Kiri laughs and walks over to his room to get some clothes to change into.

Bakugo packed a WHOLE ASS BAG of clothes, a few shirts and a couple pairs of jeans because he wanted to make sure he looked really good. Kiri did just about the same, a whole backpack with clothes inside. What the fuck? Are they spending the night? Why the fuck. Evie laughed lightly as they made their way to the door. They may be men, but god DAMN they take forever to get ready.

“Alright, we’ll be at Denki’s. Text me if you need anything.” Bakugo says, planting quick peck on Evie’s lips before leaving. “:Yeah yeah, have fun I’ll let you know when we leave.” She says as she opens the door. “Wha- why the fuck are you guys taking backpacks? I thought you guys were going just to change not spend the week there.” Nina’s voice echos through the hall after seeing the boys. “FUUUCK I thought we’d be gone by the time you guys got here.” Bakugo complains, nodding at Cal and Nina as they enter the apartment. “Shut the hell up, boom boom boy.” Cal says walking past him. He tugs at her sprout on her head, causing her to yelp. “Stop it, asshole! i’ll get Frank on your ass.” She warns, rubbing her sprout as he lets go.

“Who the fuck is Frank:?” He asks, Kirishima laughing next to him. “None of your business, leave! You take any longer and we’ll be fucking late.” Nina says, closing the door as they walk in. “I thought we’d never get rid of them.” They joke as they smile and hug Evie. Cal jumps onto them, laughing and giggling as they regain themselves.

The next hour and a half consists of the trio getting dressed, comparing outfits and making sure they looked really good for the night ahead. Cal is wearing a green lace bralette, with gloves to match. Shes got a tight black skirt, with thigh high stockings with guarders with heels. Her hair is down and tame, the black skirt and green top complimenting her every feature. Nina is wearing a black and white cheetah print tube top, with leather shorts, thigh high platform boots with her chains rearranged in a choker fashion, with a loop in the middle for an attachable leash, her mullet slick back. Evie is wearing a green long sleeve crop top that ties around her stomach, with a deep v cut, ripped skinny jeans and thigh high heel boots. Her hair is half up, the other half tamed beautifully to compliment the outfit. She puts on her favorite black choker with a silver heart in the middle. She only wears it when she wants Bakugo to replace it with his hand, which she was sure he would do later.

The group looks at each others outfits, gushing on how ridiculously good they looked. After a very long photo shoot, the group locks up the apartment and heads out. They meet up at the club, excited to get the night started. They are (not surprisingly) the first ones to make it. They stand around, waiting to hear from their significant other’s and Kirishima. Denki, Bakugo and Kirishima show up next, Denki walking up dressed from head to toe in black, a silver chain on his belt loops and black and silver jewelry complimenting his outfit. Kirishima has on red cargo shorts, a white t shirt on with a windbreaker jacket that says “Riot” in red letters on the back. Bakugo is in black jeans with an orange tee shirt, with orange converse to match and a black blazer. He, for once, slicked his hair back and hot DAMN he looked good to Evie. Cal and Evie couldn’t help but gawk over their men as Aizawa finally made his way to the group. Aizawa is dressed in a grey v neck t-shirt, skinny jeans, a loose fitting leather jacket with his scarf covering his neck as it always does. His hair is half up in a bun on the back of his head. He probably looks the most comfortable than every one in the group.

They gather in their group, Denki pulling Cal closer as he looks her up and down. Bakugo smirks as he watches Evie approach him, eyeing her figure. “You... you are SO lucky we didn’t get ready at the same place.” He growls as he throws an arm over her. “We would’ve never made it to this damn club.” He finishes, hearing Denki and Kirishima laugh in agreement. “I wouldn’t have heard the end of it.” Kiri says under his breath. They laugh and enter the club.

After a few drinks, dedicating drinks to their accomplishments ranging from graduating college and getting their own places, to them just being happy they were all finally getting to hang out. Feeling the light buzz, Evie urges Bakugo to go out and dance with her. He complains, although in actuality, she knew he loved to dance with her, able to show the girl he was with.

Cal and Denki were laughing and talking amongst themselves for a bit before finally heading out to the dance floor. Lets be honest, they were only a few drinks away from starting their dance battles, and everyone for once was ready for it.

Aizawa and Nina stood close together, Nina dancing to the music while Aizawa watched, almost entranced by her movements. God, the way he looked at her, the way he undressed her with his eyes. Anyone who’d watched them grew jealous of the love they had for each other. Every so often, he would pull them in and says something that would physically cause Nina to shudder. It always entertained Evie. She’d always laugh watching the way just words would make Nina squirm.

Evie looked up at Bakugo, urging him again. He laughed and nodded over to Kiri, inviting him to dance with them. Many people questioned the relationship they shared, were they all in some kind of relationship? Was it just as simple as Bakugo and Evie were just comfortable with Kiri? Pretty much. Nither Evie nor Bakugo saw Kiri in that way, and Kiri just really loved to dance.

The trio makes their way to the dance floor as the music bumped through the speakers. Evie let the music take over, feeling Bakugo behind her, molding to her body with ease. Kiri does the same, only in front. Nina had stopped dancing for a sec to watch her friends dance, and smirked at the three. They knew Bakugo wouldn’t hold his composure long, and would claim Evie in about a song or two.

The song Goodies bumped through the speakers, with it being Evie’s favorite song, she danced harder feeling the boys match her tempo. Every so often, because Bakugo couldn’t make his mind up about how comfortable he was with Evie facing either towards or away from him, he would turn her. She laughed, feeling the drinks work their way into her system, giving her a good feeling.

The song Me&U begins to bump through the speakers. Evie starts to sing the lyrics, the front of her body facing Kiri. Kiri begins to sing as well, looking Evie in the eyes while doing so. Bakugo takes notice, and whips her around, glaring at Kiri from over Evie. She laughs, noticing Kiri pick up his hands in apology and decides that’s the time for him to go find another dance partner. Evie grabs Bakugo by his cheeks, forcing him to look at her as they grind. For a while, it feels like they’re the only two in the room.

Sweat drips, their bodies bumping to the sound of the base. Evie smiles up at Bakugo and kisses him. Then, she jumps, feeling a cold, wet feeling run down her back. She whips around, seeing Ururaka looking her up and down smirking. “Oops, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She says smugly in a monotone voice over the music. Ururaka then turns her attention to Bakugo, her smile turning sweet. “Hey, Kachan, how are you?” She says, taking a step closer to him almost pushing Evie out of the way. Evie looks to her left, seeing Nina already making their way to her with Cal close behind, a worried Denki behind them and Aizawa looking from the distance. “Don’t fucking call me that, one. And two we’re in the middle of something, so if you could, you know, fuck off that’d be great.” Bakugo says, bumping her shoulder and returning to Evie.

“Oh, you’d rather be with that? HA, okay.” Ururaka says, scoffing as she looks at the couple. “Listen here you broke ass bit-” Cal starts, ready to lunge at her. Nina stops her for a second, looking Ururaka up and down before speaking. “Is there a problem?” they ask. “Oh, can’t fight your own fights?” Ururaka says, turning her attention back to Evie. “Oh, I can fucking fight alright.” Evie says, rolling up her sleeves and removing her earrings. “Hold these baby please.” She says, handing them to Bakugo who takes them and places them in his pocket, taking a step back to watch Evie do what she did best. “Oh you got the wrong bitch” Nina says, cracking their knuckles.

Ururaka pushes Evie. She stumbles lightly, and recovers quickly. Ururaka looks at her in confusion. She’s...not floating. Evie looks over to a golden eyed, floating haired Aizawa, who’d activated his quirk, disabling Ururaka’s. Evie smirked, returning her attention to Ururaka who was already on the floor due to Nina using her chains to restrain her, and Cal straight out kicking her on the ground. She laughed, bending down as Cal got in another kick. No one around noticed, nor cared about what was happening to Ururaka.

“Oh honey, you should’ve known better.” Evie says in the sweetest way possible as she stands and gets her kick in. Nina unrestrains her and they step over her, turning to return to Aizawa when Ururaka gets up, grabs Nina by the shoulder and throws a punch. Before the punch even makes contact, Cal jumps on her, throwing punches as Ururaka turns her attention to her. Somehow, she manages to get a hold of Cal’s sprout on her head, making her even more mad. Evie grabs Ururaka by the hair, pulling her off of Cal and punching her a couple times before Bakugo steps in. He grabs Evie, stopping her from injuring her anymore. “It’s not worth it, babe.” He says, attempting to calm her down.

“She isnt worth it!” Ururaka screams, getting up because this girl STILL hadn't had enough. Nina uses her chains to grab Ururaka, throwing her to the ground and planting a platformed boot on her chest. They lean in real close, speaking loud enough for her to hear. “Listen here, bitch. YOU, are a piece of shit, and if we EVER see you trying it again, it’s on site.” They say before getting up. Cal walks up, kicking her down as she tries to sit up. “Oh, the 99 cent store called, they want their dress back.” Cal says, spitting on her before leaving as well. Evie calms herself enough for Bakugo to let her go, and they turn back once more before laughing and walking off.

Before any kind of authorities are called, the group leaves the club, making their way to their favorite after club place, a 24/7 boba tea place just down the street from the club, They order drinks, and all make another toast to a great night. “I’ve really been wanting to do that shit since the situation.” Cal says, beaming. “Same” Nina says, clinking cups and laughing. Bakugo walks over to the table, with drinks in one hand and his phone in the other. The fact they’d forgotten Kiri was fucking hilarious to him. Kiri slams through the door, asking about what’d happened. He was SO upset he’d missed it.

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princess-cordelias-writingblog · 5 years ago

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So Far Away -Five. (Nolan xReader)

A/N: This is the second time i try to post this things eye-

Anyway, in case you couldn’t tell I messed up the timeline and let’s just pretend Nolan found out about Liam’s ability in a different way okay? k’, you’ll know what I’m talking about when u see it lmaoo also, I won’t follown the plot of the show exactly as it went partly cause I don’t remember well and I don’t have the time to rewatch it all, still I hope you like it tho!

P.S. Also, what do you guys think about doing blurb nights? or drabbles? I just want to interact with you more ^-^ they’d be about all the fandoms I have on my bio obvsly, not only teen wolf lol let me know what you think! :D -Danny

Words: 1,745

Warnings: bad writing my dudes. Also a bit of blood.

Pt.4

missing you is a slow burn Every time the earth turns I'm reminded that night is only half the time

The next week went by slowly, from one class to another Y/N was forced to stand there and have nothing but a glance from Nolan every time he walked past. He wasn’t his old self anymore, dry and rough he was nothing but a shadow that followed those boys around.

One day she decided to pay him a visit, he said they weren’t dating anymore but he never mentioned anything about not being friends and the girl was holding onto that little gap, hoping it wasn’t a bad moment Y/N knocked on his door but no one answered. She knocked a few more times still with no reply. Disappointed she turned around and walked towards the street when a noise on the second floor caught her attention.

Nolan was there, looking directly to Y/N. He wasn’t exactly intimidating, but what scared her was that she couldn’t read his expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asked without moving.

“I-I just wanted to talk,” She rubbed her hands to get away from the cold, it was almost night time and she’d brought nothing but a thin blouse and a pair of jeans, naively trusting he’d let her in, “Can I come in?”

“I’m... I have homework,” He replied, and just then Y/N saw something close to worry.

“Me too,” She smiled shyly, “maybe we can finish all faster together?”

“I don’t think is a good idea Y/N, I don’t wanna get distracted but... t-thanks, see you,” Without waiting for a reply, Nolan stepped back and closed his window, Y/N didn’t even get the chance to wish him a good night.

Walking back to her car it felt like a bizarre walk of shame, and Y/N wasn’t exactly the type to give up to things she cared about just like that; in her mind a plan was already forming, she had nothing to lose at that point, and her friends could say she was overreacting and that she should let him go and move on. If it had been any other guy, maybe she’d have agreed with them, but this was Nolan, the same boy she convinced to join the lacrosse team. The same team that helped him beat up innocent kids like Liam and she had to do something about it.

She drove through the streets still distracted by her own thoughts, the town was quiet that night and it was lacking the usual traffic, not that she minded, all she wanted after her disappointing evening was a warm shower and her bed. Maybe snacks. And binge-watch romantic movies so she could finally sink in the miserable feeling around her chest.Y/N drove in silence until Muse ave came into view, a few cars were parked in the middle in the street and people stood around curiously. Assuming it was a car accident, Y/N slowed down, from her side she was the only car, so she could see the scene in front of her. What she saw would change her life forever.

Two bodies covered in blood were laying on the ground, standing in front of them, there was a person. Or at least it looked like one for the most part, it had to legs and two arms, though those arms ended in big, ugly hands with massive claws, and the face was covered in thick hair and his eyes had a golden, savage glow. Not to mention the gigantic fangs coming out of the mouth.

She had to be dreaming. She was totally dreaming, right? There’s no way that was actually happening, there in front of her. A... a big dog-person growling in the middle of the street.

Then the person turned around and he recognized him. Liam.

“Oh my god,” She gasped, her voice muffled by the hand that went up to cover her mouth in shock.

Nolan’s voice came back to her, almost as if he knew what she was looking at right on that moment.

“You have no idea of what he is, what he is capable of!”

She sees it now, in all his scary glory she sees what Liam is and she wants to lock herself in the nuthouse just for thinking about it. Liam’s a werewolf.

The thing is, even now that she sees his true form, for her Liam still looks... like a scared boy. She can see it on his body language, the way he’s ready to attack but not because he wants to, it’s because he’ll do it if he feels like he needs to.

And what about the bodies? They aren’t mangled, their clothes are okay and the blood is coming from their heads, like someone hit them hard.

Like a car just ran them over.

She finds it quickly, the blood all over the front of the car of that man. And he’s fine, he doesn’t look scared, in his eyes, Y/N sees a sickening warmth, like he’s pleased with his actions.

Hidden in the boy’s chest she sees it: the girl’s hand. Although is not a normal hand, it has claws. What did they do to be killed in such a cold manner? They were kids. Couldn’t be older than her and Nolan. And still this man decided to finish them off simply cause they were different.

Granted, it was a terrifying look, a scary kind of different. But she had talked to Liam before, she saw him getting beaten up for the exact reason this man killed his friends and Liam never tried to fight back, for all she knew, they were the real victims.

It was then that even against her better judgement and all that scary movies ever taught her about monsters that she made a decision.

“Liam!” Almost as if things weren’t weird enough, Scott McCall appeared followed by a girl she remembered as Malia from school. She didn’t know from where did they come from but it didn’t matter, apparently, they knew about Liam’s condition cause they walked straight towards him and surrounded him so no one could see his face. Unfortunately, they were now trapped inside the circle of curious people, and Scott looked around, they had nowhere to go. Or so they thought.

“Scott,” Y/N got out of her car and spoke loud enough to get the young man’s attention, “hey, McCall!”

He found her in the middle of the mess and his eyes went wide, surely thinking she was about to freak out and attack them. “Y/N, I’m sorry-”

“Get in the car,” she cut him out, very aware of the looks people were giving her.

“You’re not gonna let them get inside your car with that... thing, going with you, right?” A woman asked from her left.

“I’m sorry, but last time I checked that ‘thing’ was a human being and the people with him were too”

“They’re monsters!” The man in front of her, the same that had killed the other two spoke up, “they’ll kill us at the first chance”

“You’re crazy,” Y/n replied in disgust, “can’t you see what you did? You killed them! They were kids!”

“Monsters!” Repeated the stranger, and the crowd joined, screaming threats to Liam, who was still covered by Scott’s body.

“Scott, I won’t repeat myself” She insisted harshly, opening the back door of her car and stepping aside so Scott could put him in.

“Thank you,” He sighed, and the three of them quickly got into the car and shared no words while Y/N heard a woman next to her calling an ambulance for the other kids that laid inert on the ground.

Y/N went back to the car and turned on the engine once more. She didn’t look back until she left the busy street, and even then a few minutes went by before she realized she had no idea where she was going.

“D-do you want me to drop you all off at your place?” She asked Scott, her voice now a lot shakier than before.

“No, take us to Liam’s”

“Alright,” She replied, still shaking, “Can someone tell me where’s that?”

Scott proceeded to give her directions until the house came into view, she parked right outside the house and watched as Liam and Malia got out of the back.

Liam glanced at her with fear, and she wanted to let him know that it was okay, that she didn’t judge him or that she wasn’t afraid. But it was a blatant lie. She was scared shitless and she had no words for what was going on. Y/N was in for big, big trouble.

“You can go home now,” Scott told her once his friends were away, waiting for him at the doorstep.

“You don’t need a ride home?” She inquired, trying to sound as calm as possible, “I mean, a bunch of people just saw you walking out next to... him, you could be in danger”

“Believe me, I’m used to it by now,” He gave her a sad smile.

“I insist”

“Why?” Scott eyed her up and down, a frown now appearing on his face, “you saw what happened there, right? How come you’re not screaming and running for your life”

“Because, like you said, I saw what happened. And they didn’t have the fault. Liam isn’t dangerous”

Scott nodded, She saw his train of thoughts going for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

“Fine, give us five minutes and you can drop us at my place”

“Okay,” Y/N sighed, finally letting go of the steering wheel, not even conscious that she was holding to it like her life depended on it. “I’ll be here”

“And Y/N?” He added once he was out, bending a little so he could see her through the window, “thank you for helping”

“Scott?” She didn’t want to ask the next question, but she had to, if she wanted to save Nolan, she had to know everything, “the reason why Nolan and those guys were beating Liam up that other day... was it because they knew what he was?”

He hesitated for a moment but after sharing one look, he couldn’t lie.

“We think so,” And with that he walked towards Liam and Malia, leaving Y/N with a pit in her chest.

If she didn’t stop him before things went too far, Nolan was going to make some huge mistakes.

_______________________________________

Taglist: @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @im-planning-something-look

#Danny's writing #nolan holloway x reader #teen wolf imagine #so far away

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threeletterslife · 6 years ago

Text

Too Young, Too Old

→ summary: What’s that one saying? Right. Childhood friends goes a long way. It’s literally the truest thing you’ve ever heard of in your life. In fact, you and Jimin are the very epitome of genuine camaraderie, the paradigm of romance. Quite precisely, a match made in the heavens — if heaven lasts forever that is.

→ pairing/rating: jimin x reader | PG

→ genre: tooth-rotting fluff and the ending is angst but only if you use an 800x microscope lmaoo | f2l!au

→ warnings: none (omg hOw)

→ wordcount: 3.6k

→ a/n: i’m still fucking amazed how there’s no cussing in this story??? also literally this whole plot stemmed from ONE sentence. it’s the last one ;)

♫: Beautiful Moment by K. Will | Evening Sky by Ailee | Ending Scene cover by Jungkook

You’ve been in love with him even before you knew what love actually meant. The fluttering feeling in your heart when you were around him had felt so foreign but right. And for the longest time, you’d thought it was due to your unbreakable friendship.

AGE 12

“Y/N, stop holding on to me!” Jimin giggles, lightly swatting your hands away from his arms.

“I can’t help it, Jiminie — I’m so cold,” you pout, stomping your two feet on the ground in a mock tantrum.

“Should’ve listened to your mom,” Jimin tsks, sending you a little wink your way before slipping his jacket off of his shoulders and wrapping it protectively around you.

“I’m twelve, you poophead, I don’t need to listen to my mom,” you huff, tugging his jacket tighter around your shivering figure. It smells like him. Familiar, warm, amicable.

“Right. You don’t listen to her on purpose so you can wear my stuff,” Jimin accuses, poking your cheek fondly with his finger. “When will you learn?”

“Never,” you tease. “Not if I can continue wearing your stuff.”

Jimin scoffs, nudging you playfully to the side. “Who’s the poophead now?”

You grin, eyes crinkling up into shining crescent moons as you nudge him back, your heart beating ever so quickly at the slightest contact with him. “Both of us, of course.”

AGE 5

“What are you looking for, Y/N?” Jimin asks, crouching down to watch your hunched over figure.

You huff, finally plopping down on the pebbled ground and sighing deeply out loud. “I wost my wucky pwebble.” Sniffling, you wipe your runny nose with your pink sweater sleeve, cursing your missing two front teeth for making you sound more pathetic. “The one you gwave me.”

“The white one?!” Jimin exclaims, lips pulling out in a sulk as his eyes scan the ground littered with hundreds of little stones. “Oh, Y/N…”

You’re a hiccuping mess, hands digging at the ground in desperate search for the lucky pebble. “I’m sowwy, Jimin. I’m so sowwy. I was wooking at it because it’s so pwetty and I just… dwopped it. Now I can’t fwind it!”

Jimin plops down on the ground right next to you. “It’s okay, Y/N. I thought you’d lose it anyway.”

“I’m sowwy,” you sniffle, looking at the myriad of pebbles on the slightly muddy ground. You had actually lost your lucky pebble an hour ago and had searched for it until now. In fact, your sniffling was more due to a light cold than your crying. “It’s gwone,” you confirm, turning to Jimin with a lost look on your face. “I’m sowwy.”

Your best friend says nothing, only slowly intertwines his soft, clean hands into your muddy ones. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I’ll find it for you.”

“Weally?” you exclaim, face immediately lifting up into a bright smile. “Thwanks, Jiminie, I — ACHOO!” you sneeze, head jerking forward from the force. “Sowwy,” you mutter again, wiping your nose with your sleeve once more.

Your friend giggles, squeezing your tightly interwoven hands. “You need to get warm. You’re sick,” he says authoritatively. “Get inside, I’ll find it for you.”

You nod your head obediently as your hand slips from his. “Okay, Jiminie!” you chirp, giving him a final, enthusiastic wave before you skip off. Externally, you’re a mess with red eyes, runny-nose, dirty jeans and hands; internally, the chaos is much worse. Your heart acts as a butterfly cage, harboring thousands of winged-insects fluttering around every which way possible.

You don’t understand the feeling but you do know it’s because of Jimin.

AGE 17

You’re now quite old enough to understand that the fluttery feeling in your heart you had for all these years was what they call love. You love Park Jimin, your best friend, favorite person, dear confidant.

You love the way he never hesitates to protect you, never stops charming you with his wits, his dazzling smile. You love the way he puts you first, and how you put him first. You love the way that when you’re out in public with hundreds of others walking by your side, he’s the only one you see.

It’s love. And you’re sure of it.

The only thing you’re not sure of is how to execute a confession — if you can muster up the courage to do so, anyway. But in the end, you know you won’t be the one to say anything about your feelings.

Jimin had always been the more outgoing one of the two of you. He was usually your savior, your guardian angel while you were his loyal friend, no more than two feet away from him; always.

The only problem was — you have no idea if your feelings are reciprocated.

As you watch your best friend sleep peacefully on his physics textbook, you can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the urge to run your fingers fleetingly across his smooth, ethereal face. And as if he heard your thoughts, Jimin’s eyes flutter open, meeting yours instantly.

“No worries, Y/N, looking is free,” he mumbles sleepily, giving you a gorgeous smile.

“I wouldn’t look at your face if someone paid me to,” you quickly deny, busying yourself with the many worksheets splayed across the library table. “Besides, unlike you, I was studying for that physics test next period.”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, give yourself a break. We’re seniors! What’s a few D’s on a test?” Jimin leans back on his chair, stretching his arms out and yawning loudly. “We tried so hard for the last three years. Honestly, we deserve a break.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you fidget with your hands before pulling out a small object from your jacket pocket and setting it on the table.

“Oh my god,” Jimin breathes. “You still have that?”

“Well, duh,” you say, shrugging it off. Needless to say, you would honestly keep Jimin’s dirty sock if he gifted that to you too. Oh, how love makes you want to do crazy things. “You told me it was a lucky pebble. How do you think I’ve been getting all these good grades the past few years?”

Jimin laughs quietly, picking up the white pebble and rolling it between his fingers, examining it as if he was studying a sparkling diamond. “Should’ve shared it with me so I got them good grades too,” he chuckles.

You beam, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket before responding: “Well, I’m giving it to you now, aren’t I?”

Jimin looks up at you, face indicating that he was mildly shocked. “Wait, I was joking, Y/N. You don’t have to —”

“But I’m not joking. Take it before I change my mind.” You awkwardly look down at your feet, feeling your cheeks stupidly flush. Curse love and its visible side effects!

“Not complaining,” Jimin says. “I think I might actually need this back.” He snorts, carefully tucking the pearlescent pebble into his pants pocket. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You can’t say anything back. You can only manage to look up and give your best friend, your crush a brilliant smile, cheeks blushing and all.

AGE 22

You admit you’re not the most resilient person in the world, opting for fictional activities to distract harsh realities from getting into your head. But when your love wraps his warm arms around you, kisses your cheeks with his soft lips and tells you that you’ll be okay, you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

And when you’re in this state of pure euphoria, you become the most resilient person you know. All your weaknesses wash away; you don’t feel feeble anymore; you feel, no, you know you can do anything your mind desires.

It’s the power of love.

And you’re quite familiar with it now, especially now.

“Remember when I asked you out back in high school?” Jimin mutters, running his hands through your hair as you lay your cheek on his firm thighs.

Your shared dorm room television plays a movie neither of you are paying attention to.

“Of course I remember,” you giggle, flipping over on your back and tilting your head to smile at your boyfriend. “It was the best thing to happen to me — I thought you’d never say anything! And obviously, I’m not the one to ever confess first. So I actually believed that I’d have to be in a one-sided love for the rest of my life. Dude, I actually thought I’d have to live to see you date another girl, marry her and have kids with her or something while I sit in my cramped apartment with my hundred cats. Man, I thought I was going to be that cat lady. I don’t even like cats! Do you even understand how hard that was? Especially for a hormonal, dramatic teenager?”

God. You’re rambling and you hate it.

Jimin smiles softly, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek, making them heat up automatically to his touch. “You’re forgetting the fact that I thought I was in a one-sided love as well.” His thumb slightly brushes over your lips, making you part them delicately. “Remember that lucky pebble?”

“Of course I do,” you mutter, leaning into his every touch, listening closely to every word.

“This probably isn’t the best time to confess this but…” Jimin trails off, looking a bit hesitant while avoiding your eye contact altogether.

You immediately sit up, tenderly grasping his hands and leaning forward. “Confess what?

“When we were like… five, remember how you lost that lucky pebble?” Jimin asks, squeezing your hands.

“Mhm…” You give your boyfriend a strange look. “Where are you going with this?”

“Okay and remember how I found it after a few minutes?”

“Yes…”

“YeahImight’vepickeduparandomwhitepebbleandcalleditlucky,” Jimin rushes out, releasing your hands to move away from you, as if you were going to lash out at him.

“What?”

“I… I picked up a random pebble and said I found the original,” Jimin sighs. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I literally kept this from you for what? 17 years?”

Your mouth drops open in an unattractive way. “You’re telling me… that I was stupid enough to not notice?!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “What in the actual heck?”

“You’re not mad, right?” Jimin asks cautiously, peering into your eyes to detect any sort of rage. But nope, you’re negative.

“Not really.” You scratch your head, rather confused. “I just can’t believe I didn’t notice. I was one dumb five-year-old…” Your face blossoms into a bright smile and you shrug. “Nevertheless, that pebble was still lucky. Look at how things turned out. I couldn’t have asked for something better.”

Jimin smiles, taking you into his arms to kiss the top of your head. “I think I might have to disagree, Y/N.”

“Huh?” you ask, pulling your face away from the warmth of his chest. “Disagree with what?”

“I don’t think the pebble is lucky — not for me at least…” he trails off only to peck your lips lightly with his.

“Is it time for one of your infamous platitudes?” you breathe against his sweet lips, leaning in to feel his warm breath on your skin, his soothing scent calming your nerves.

Jimin chuckles, bringing you in for another kiss, this one lingering — searing. “You know me so well,” he mumbles, parting your lips with his as he allows you to relax underneath him. “The pebble was never lucky,” he continues, “you are.”

AGE 29

You like to think you have a very vivid imagination — that’s how you’re so good at your job. It’s also how you can shut down all of Park Jimin’s outrageous choice of colors for the unborn baby’s new room.

“Really, Jimin? Pink plaid and green polka dots?” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “What’s next, neon yellow with magenta plaid?”

Jimin sulks in the corner of the empty room, looking down at his shoes with his lips pulled out in a pout. He literally looks like a petulant child. You’re worried you won’t be able to tell the difference between him and his son (when he’s born, that is).

“I thought they would give our son a… bright life. Pink represents love, you know, so our son can grow up to learn the best feeling in life. And green symbolizes luck… You know how important that is to us,” Jimin mopes, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

You giggle slightly at his cuteness, shaking your head. “It was a nice thought… But as an interior designer, I assure you that we go for softer colors, you know? So our son won’t die from saturation overload.”

Jimin huffs. “You want me to return these then?” He holds up the horrendous wallpapers, looking at you for approval.

“Well, I would prefer you do it,” you joke, gesturing at your protruding belly. “Unless you would like your pregnant wife to get cranky.” You smile innocently.

“You are so lucky I love you so much,” Jimin mumbles, grabbing his jacket and pecking your cheek before opening the door to the apartment building. “But I get to choose his name!” he calls before the door swings shut.

AGE 11

“Do you want kids?” Jimin asks shamelessly, picking at his broccoli disdainfully with his plastic fork.

“Yeah,” you answer, nodding vigorously. “Three daughters! Yeji, Yejin, Yeju!” you exclaim excitedly, stuffing half a hot dog in your mouth before stating with your mouth full: “dwey’re gfwunna bfe twifwlets!”

Jimin laughs, his shoulders shaking and eyes scrunching up. “Oh yeah? I want three sons!” He flings the broccoli onto the ground, standing up and declaring: “I’ll name them Luck, Lucky and Luckiest!”

Your eyebrows scrunch up and you frown. “What kind of names are those?” you say while scrutinizing the poor cooked broccoli collecting dirt on the ground.

“Great names, of course,” Jimin answers. “Just you watch — it’ll happen.”

AGE 30

“Lucky, baby, here comes the airplane! Wee!” you announce enthusiastically as you wave a spoonful of mashed broccoli at your son of eight months.

Your son huffs, glaring at the mashed greens sitting on the silver utensil. “Nuhh!” he gurgles. “HhH! NuhH!”

“I think he’s trying to say ‘no,’ Y/N,” Jimin says, swooping over to kiss Lucky’s head and leaning in to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Won’t it be quite sad if Lucky’s first word is ‘no?’ And all thanks to you, hun,” he giggles sarcastically.

You huff, just like your son. “Okay, but it’s your fault for passing down your broccoli-hating genes to Lucky.”

“I think it’s kind of cute. He’s my mini-me,” Jimin coos, making his son giggle. “Besides,” he turns to you, fingers interlacing with yours, “I love how he inherited your cute little huffs.”

You’re about to huff again but think better of it, replacing that with a scoff. “God, you’re so lucky I love you.”

Lucky giggles at the sound of his name and you laugh, scooping the baby into your arms and rocking him back and forth. “And you’re so lucky I love you, Lucky,” you coo.

“If you say the word ‘lucky’ one more time, I might just do something I regret later,” Jimin whispers, pressing his warm body against yours.

“Your fault you named your son that… Lucky, that is,” you giggle, kissing your son’s cheeks.

“That’s it, Y/N, you asked for it!” Jimin yells. “Tickle time!” He attacks your neck — which, you might add, was your most sensitive spot.

You screech, always the most ticklish one out of any group. “No! Jimin! Stop! I swear, I’m sorry!” Your grip around your son tightens but Lucky doesn’t seem to mind — he’s actually quite enjoying his parents torture each other.

“What’s the magic word? What’s the magic word?” Jimin yells over your persistent screeching, tickling your waist that leaves you gasping for air.

“Love! LOVE!” you shriek desperately. “I love you!”

Your husband stops his attack immediately, smiling as he hugs you and your son tightly. “That’s right. The magic word is always love.”

“W-wub?” Lucky repeats, his face beaming in all smiles.

“OHMYGOD!” you and Jimin squeal in unison.

“Love! Lucky, baby, love!” you repeat excitedly.

Your son basks in the attention, erupting in a giggle fit. “Wub!”

“Love!” Jimin cries, “love, Lucky! Sweet mother of pearls, Y/N, his first word’s gonna be love!”

“Wub! Wuve!” Lucky giggles, waving his chubby arms around and eyes crinkling from his wide smile — just like his parents.

“Love, baby, love!” you exclaim. Your hands shake from the intense amount of happiness and your head is light, almost as if you could float in the skies. It seems like just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant, that you were discussing names, that you were arguing over the room’s wallpapers.

“Wuve!” Lucky cries. “Wuve!

“Love, Lucky. We love you!” Jimin squeals, grasping onto your hands in excitement.

Lucky lets out a final, jubilant laugh and announces: “LOBE!”

It’s silent for half a millisecond before:

“Wait, does this count?” Jimin whispers.

“Of course!” you whisper back. “Of course it counts! LUCKY! YOUR FIRST WORD! IT’S LOVE!!”

“HnHHH!” Lucky laughs. “LOBE!!” he announces louder than the last.

You can feel the tears of joy about to drip down your beaming face. You can hear your precious son’s laughter ringing throughout your apartment. You can see your husband’s radiant smile brightening the room. You love them so much. So, so much.

But it’s beyond that of joyous laughter, affectionate smiles and unadulterated love. It’s that obscured curtain hidden in the deepest crevice of your mind. The impenetrable veil that buries years and years of sorrow. Mostly regret.

It’s the hospital visits. Sometimes it’s that pungent smell of rubbing alcohol that tinges the air, the unsettling white walls usually trapping those in the vicinage. Yet it’s always the slack patient gowns. You can draw them from memory — every stitch, every inch of fabric — quite possibly because you were in love with the person dressed in it.

Personally, you have a deep hatred of the patient gowns. How they make one look so sick, the flimsy cloth hanging loosely on pale skin and thin bones. They look horrible on Jimin as if something in the material of the gown was gradually sucking the life out of him.

“Why are you sick?” you ask, pulling up a chair next to Jimin and grasping his cold hands in yours.

“I dunno,” Jimin answers, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding your eye contact completely. “Actually I do know,” he confesses. “Something about my heart not doing its job…” His hands fidget with the hem of the plain patient gown.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“He’ll be fine,” your mother tells you when you insist on living in the hospital with him.

“He’ll be fine,” his mother tells you when you’re starting to miss your own meals to take care of him.

“He’ll be fine,” everyone tells you when you cry for days, hoping your tears could heal him and his stupid heart.

“I’ll be fine,” Jimin says, holding your hands and rubbing small circles on the back of them. “I’ll be okay soon.”

You believed him. Even though the once bright light in his determined eyes was starting to dim, you believed him. Even though every time you stepped in his room there were more machines attached to him, you believed him.

You knew that Park Jimin was going to get better and continue living his life with you.

But it was as hard for him to breathe as it was for you to understand.

“Y/N… too young… won’t understand…”

It was always the same whispers. The same shushed discussions everyone was having behind your back. You couldn’t care less.

It all came down to Jimin. His shallow breaths. His worsening condition.

He wouldn’t even talk to you anymore when you came to visit him.

You didn’t realize that the whirring machines surrounding his bed were there to keep him alive. You didn’t realize his heart was slowly failing to do its one job — to let him live.

It was hard for you to understand.

And you were too young for that.

Now you’re too old to be fantasizing about the possible what if’s. You really did have a vivid imagination. In fact, you know he’s been gone for years — you attended his funeral when you were only seven. You know you need to move on, maybe, even possibly find another love or a life.

But perhaps it was the regret that holds you back from walking away from all the heart-warming fantasies. Remorseful pain is excruciating and never tends to ebb away; it always comes back to stab at the place where it hurts most. You’ve got to live with that rue for the rest of your life.

Never getting to say goodbye to your best friend, the love of your life as he silently left the world was completely your fault, and you acknowledge it.

You’d been too young to understand what terminal meant.

masterlist

#btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #bangtanidx #park jimin #jimin #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin x reader #best friend au #fanfic #too young too old #tyto

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god-fucking-dammit-mizutani · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Stars Above You (WIP) Words: ~2800 Part: 1/2 Notes: So it’s the 20th anniversary since 8/1/1999 and I was besieged by the spirit of creativity to finish out at least the start of this fic to post in it’s honor because I didn’t get it in for Taishirou week like I meant to lmaoo it wraps up nicely enough, I think, as a piece, but I will be adding more to this in hopefully the near future and will add it to ao3 at that point, but also this project of mine started out like nine or more years ago and it is always mingling in the back of my mind, so it feels. Right, I guess. I hope it’s okay lol

Summary: It’s a symbol -- a promise -- of a future together.

~*~

Just shortly before a nuclear missile landed in the Odaiba bay, Mrs. Yagami had boasted a full collection of constantly clattering wind chimes. Koushirou would sometimes spend days too cold to play outside lounging along the Yagami apartment floor with Taichi, tracing his eyes along their silhouettes through the drawn curtains like other children watched clouds. They made him think of galactic squid, imagined them phasing in through the balcony above to dangle their tentacles in the breeze. In his own way, Koushirou could understand why she kept them.

Until the wind blew, and so with it, the tempers of every person in earshot. When they met a rather mysterious, very untimely end, only one person ever missed them.

Sora remembers them, too.

Koushirou suspects so from the face she pulls at the sound of her spoon clinking against the crystal of her near-empty fountain glass. Koushirou feels his chest bubble with a bitter nostalgia to hear it. After that summer, the sound had only conjured in him the sense of fleeting time; a Pavlovian sickness that stains his tongue with the taste of Oolong.

The chiming sounds louder than it should through the midnight hours of the local diner. Across the room from them, the wait staff huddle over a table, prepping for the inevitable rush once the bars take their last call. The clatter of silverware and hushed conversations between them is the only consistent noise when conversations lull between him and Sora.

Excepting, of course, every invariable swear wafting up from the floor of the entrance.

“Another goddamn spider,” Taichi's voice grumbles. Yamato's amused snort follows.

Sora gives a cursory look over her shoulder. Her grin when it rounds back on Koushirou feels, oddly, conspiratorial. Hands cupped under her chin, accented by the curve of her auburn bob, she looks absolutely storybook charming.

“It's a good thing we're in love with those losers,” she tells him, grinning. Which, decidedly, is a very uncharming thing to say. Specifically for as far as her voice carries.

Koushirou chokes on her presumptions, hiding the hiccup by grabbing for his neglected glass of water. It splashes on the table and parts of his shirt when he lifts it. The waitress had been heavy handed when she last came by to fill his still half unused glass. “Precisely who are you implying I'm--?”

Sora beams at him.

Over her shoulder, Koushirou catches Taichi's eyes just before the man resets his sights back on the rows of Gashapon machines, fingers curling in request until Yamato relinquishes yet another coin. Under the harsh, spherule pendant lamps, Koushirou reads the glint of something mirthful, impish in his gaze.

He is not the only one who sees it. The manager spends interminable periods of time by the register, tapping through papers and taking stock again and again. He wonders how often grown men buy children's trinkets as a rouse for robbery. Koushirou hides the curl of his amused smile under the curve of his fingers at the thought. Sora, not privvy to his internal thoughts, smiles with a similar amusement back at him.

Yamato makes his way back to the table first, alone save for the plastic capsules balanced dangerously against his chest. Sora scoots over in the booth to allow him to sit next to her, but Yamato only offers his bulbous collection to her with a shrug.

“Accept these tokens as a gift of my affection, my love!” he proclaims, voice high and pious. The thought of Yamato, flaxen haired and pale skin atop a white steed feels poignant in Koushirou's mind.

Sora eyes the mountain of multicolored plastic bubbles, amusement wrinkling her brow and lifting a side of her mouth until a single dimple emerges. “Be gone, sir,” she returns, whipping her head in the opposite direction. “Your measly trinkets bore me!”

They both shriek when Yamato, instead, releases his hoard upon them, little plastic bubbles hopping about the table.

The restaurant stills around them.

"I sure hope you're going to pick those up," Sora stage whispers. She squashes her hands together, mouthing an apology to the employees until they turn back to their work.

"Of course," Yamato snorts. "I wasn't raised in a barn." In a good faith effort, he leans down and grabs a few off the floor at his feet, catching them in empty glasses still scattering their table.

Koushirou flinches, mostly on instinct than from any pain, when a few stray capsules rain off the table and plop against his thighs. "Do you still think it's a positive attribute, Sora?"

She furrows her brows at him for a moment until she catches on, her lips quirking into a secretive, rueful little smile. "I meant it more for their sake," she clarifies.

“Do I want to know?” Yamato frowns at them. The fabric of his jeans squeak on the taut vinyl material when he slides in next to Sora finally.

Sora smirks at him and very pointedly steals a fry from the neglected tray in front of him. “Nope.” She makes a show of biting down on half of it to Yamato's scandalized expression.

“Rude,” he says. “Stealing a man's fries in front of him is low, Sora.” He picks several up and crunches down on them at once. Koushirou grimaces, wondering how cold the fries must have grown since they were first brought out.

“Should I have done it behind your back?” Sora giggles. She laughs harder when Yamato intercepts her fingers from taking any more, lacing his own through hers.

Koushirou turns from the couple then, cheeks heating over the flirtatious display. There's a half empty basket of fries on the table beside his, and guiltily, he wonders how Taichi would react if Koushirou tested his theory on how cold the fries really taste. He pats the empty space on the bench next to him and frowns.

The front end of the diner is quiet, vacant. When Koushirou glances around he notices the manager has snuck back into the kitchen, his salt and pepper hair visible over the counter window. The waitstaff have gone back to their work; when he meets the eye of their waitress he has to shake his head at her unspoken question if they need her.

“Where's Taichi?” He asks when his survey of the restaurant yields no results.

He turns back to see Sora pop her head up and away from Yamato's shoulder, eyes hawking the area for their fourth member. “Yeah, where did he go?”

Yamato sops up the remnants of Sora's shake with a swipe of his fries over the rim of her glass. “Getting ready,” he says. He pops his chocolate soaked fry into his mouth, grinning with satisfaction as Sora eyes him with mock disgust.

“Ready for what, precisely?” Koushirou asks.

He sees it. The conspiratorial little glint of something sparking in Sora's eyes, lips crawling upward again. It catches in Yamato's expression when he meets her gaze, the two of them sharing a jubilous energy that Koushirou cannot fathom.

But Koushirou's patience barely wanes before the bathroom door slams open across the diner, catching the attention of their group and the adjacent wait staff. The manager rushes out from the kitchen to purvey the scene and they all stare at none other than Taichi, his hair slicked as far back as water alone will tame it down.

"Here he comes," Yamato says, sounding like a host before his audience. "Taichi Yagami, rocking the drowned rat chic look. Super popular this year."

Koushirou snorts when Sora gives him a soft whap on the arm. He looks back down the long hallway at Taichi, who has taken to waving at every booth as he descends on the group. His pageantry is well rewarded with attention. Their waitress waves back when Taichi passes by their set up station. His shadow is long under the lights, falling across Koushirou where he come to stand before him.

"Your hair--" Koushirou starts, instinctively starting up to his feet to let Taichi take back his place at the far end of their shared booth, but the rest of his sentence is swallowed by surprise when Taichi drops before him instead.

One knee bent to the linoleum, he reaches into the pocket of his pea coat and Koushirou, rightfully, feels betrayed when Taichi lifts yet another capsule up to him.

"Koushirou Izumi," he says, timbre reminiscent of a Shakespearean actor. "Please accept this token as a symbol of my affection."

"You line thief," Yamato accuses him, pointing a soggy fry at the culprit. Taichi crinkles his nose in the blonde's direction, and Koushirou feels vaguely proud that he has matured beyond sticking his tongue out.

Koushirou narrows his eyes at the offending bauble. “Is this what you squandered all that time for?” But he cannot stop his own lips from quirking up on their own as he plops back into the booth. It lets out a soft puff, like a resigned sigh, sounding off through a hole in the seat cushion that had been just barely tapped down to keep the stuffing inside. Tentatively, Koushirou plucks the bobble from his pronged grip.

Taichi beams up at him, watches expectantly as Koushirou attempts to remove the pink little cap from the top. His expression is not dampered even when Koushirou's grip proves useless to separate the two pieces.

"When I saw it," Taichi says, still grinning, "I knew I wanted to get it for you."

Silverware clatters again. It's an orchestra lending itself to the affair, but the importance of it all falls flat on Koushirou who has lost in his bout of strength against the gashapon capsule. Koushirou’s own heart feels like it could be playing the drum, for the tempo in his chest is thunderous. He could blame the slide of his fingers on the plastic surface of the capsule case, but Koushirou knows this is only half the truth.

Yamato reaches across the table, motioning for Koushirou to hand him the present instead. It does not yield immediately to him, and Yamato digs into his forgotten coat for keys. The grooves scrape along the plastic sphere, wedging underneath the lip of the lid. Next to him, Sora beams back at Koushirou when their eyes meet, her face soft and only vaguely apologetic. Eventually the edge gives way with a soft pop and Taichi intercepts the return, holds it up on three fingers in front of Koushirou like an impromptu pedestal. Yamato’s keys have left their teeth marks indented into the side, white blemishes standing out starkly against the cloudy, gray clearness of the rest of it. He peers over the lip and frowns.

Inside the capsule’s plastic basket is a small, circular item and Koushirou knows that it is a joke, that there is no meaning beyond a simple laugh and a simple, logical connection that had spun the plan into action. But even if Koushirou knows, it is not logic that his heart works on.

“Taichi,” Koushirou snorts. It sounds as hollow as Sora’s now cleaned out milkshake glass. He pulls the ring from it’s home, rolls it around between careful fingers to investigate it closer. A tiny, little ladybug of casted in resin and cheap paint sitting atop an even cheaper adjustable sphere. Beady, poorly drawn on eyes stare up at him. “Rings carry a connotation, you know?”

Which is, honestly, a joke, too. A bad joke, but one nonetheless.

Taichi folds the capsule that had contained the ring back into his coat pocket and then beckons Koushirou to return the present. There is a small, petty part of Koushirou that almost refuses to relinquish it. It had, after all, been meant for him. I wanted to get it for you, Taichi had said, and that weight leaves him dizzy.

When he does surrender it, Taichi puts up the palm of his other hand.

“Take it,” Sora stage whispers across the table. It might as well be a scream, because the wait staff hear and turn to watch the spectacle again. Koushirou feels his face heating as he takes the proffered hand.

“Taichi,” he grits out, quietly, but he stops from any admonishment when he meets Taichi’s eyes. That same glint of mirth is there, undiminished since Koushirou had first spotted it, shining with the road lights through the window to Koushirou’s back, but it feels like there’s more and it quiets his tongue.

“Koushirou Izumi,” Taichi says again, puffing up his chest, back straight. Koushirou hears Yamato hiss as Sora delves out a quick apology. When he glances at them, she’s rubbing his hand with the one not currently holding Yamato’s, smiling sheepishly up at him. Koushirou looks back at Taichi and breathes in, tightly through the little spaces that the butterflies in his chest allow him. “You are my best friend. I’m under strict orders to mention that Yamato and Sora are runner ups.”

“Thank you,” Yamato says, pleased sounding.

“Sora is clearly in second, though.”

“Fair,” Yamato decides.

“Anyway,” Taichi says. This time his grin is definitely tinged in embarrassment, the reddening of his cheeks enough evidence. It’s endearing. “I hope that I’m yours?”

Koushirou nods along. He can feel his lips curling, but he isn’t quite sure that it comes off as a smile. He’s not really sure of anything. He could be dying and this time there are no windchimes to send him on his way.

“And I want to be your best friend forever,” Taichi adds in, slowly. “So what I’m going to ask, well, I hope that doesn’t change anything between us. Actually,” Taichi laughs, rubbing at the back of his head. “I hope it changes a lot. But in a good way,” he clarifies. Koushirou watches, not quite sure who the confirmations are supposed to be directed towards: himself or Koushirou.

Taichi sucks in a deep breath, like he’s about to go cliff diving off a waterfall and Koushirou understands. “I really, really like you. I’ve been afraid for a super long time that if I acted on it or told you, that maybe I’d somehow chase you off. But it’s not fair to hide this from you.” His cheeks are a brilliant red now and his eyes moves further down Koushirou’s face, settling somewhere along his jawbone. Where their hands are connected feels warm and comfortable. Koushirou wouldn’t mind if he didn’t let go, ever. “And well, it feels like it would be a new adventure and we’ve got a great track record with those, you and me.”

“Taichi,” Sora whispers in an ushering tone. He looks astonished for a moment, as if he had forgotten where they were, that others were in the audience. Koushirou had.

Taichi takes another long breath in and finally sets his grin up with more confidence when he asks Koushirou, “Whaddya say? Will you go out with me, Koushirou?”

Pinched still between Taichi’s fingers, the ladybug stares up at Koushirou expectantly. Something clinks in the background and for once, it does not feel bitter or terrifying, but it does seize his chest, reminds him of the clicking clock and everything that has laid stagnant in fear.

“Most people would simply just ask for a date,” Koushirou manages to say. He breathes out. “But I suppose it was a display worthy of a yes.” He thinks he hears a round of applause, but Koushirou keeps his head down, doesn’t dare to look up. It is only partially from self-consciously, and mostly because Taichi’s smile is so efferesent, Koushirou thinks it could light all of Odaiba for the rest of their lives. He’s not sure his is any less exuberant.

He pushes the ring up and onto Koushirou’s ring finger. Made for children with tinier hands, it barely passes the first knuckle before they have to tinker with the adjustable strap, but soon it settles to the base of his finger, rather nicely and hideously. “When have I ever been most people?”

The manager waits for them at the register. His stern expression speaks to his lack of amusement experienced from their shenanigans, but Koushirou cannot even find a sense of shame this time. It feels like someone has replaced his heart with a spectacle of sparklers, a sky filled with fireworks. Taichi squeezes his hand, but he thinks that only makes it worse.

When they leave, for the last time, Yamato deposits a single capsule into the hand of every employee unfortunate to pass them. He makes sure to pat the manager on the shoulder on his way out, as if parting from a dear friend in a respectable manner. He bestows the man with a rubber bouncy ball. Koushirou knows this only because it follows Yamato out the door a beat later. Sora waits for him to finish, sitting on the cement stoop and blinking up at him slowly when he rushes down to meet their group.

He returns the look. "Gifts are polite," Yamato says, indignantly. His arms are still plenty full of toys, like the santa of rock stars. "I told you I wasn't raised in a barn."

The rubber ball plummets down each step slowly, poking around Yamato's shoe and finally plopping into Sora's lap. She looks down at it, pressing her lips together. "Debatable."

#taishirou #taishiro #otp #odaiba day #digimon #koushirou izumi #taichi yagami #there's also some Sorato !#Fake proposals #if that isn't your things #it's mostly humor and romance and slice of lifey #Sparkle garbage #also I'm aware the bay is technically Tokyo bay but I'm ??? trying to convey it was the bay of Odabia I guess?? Idk it felt fitting to me??

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