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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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fluttering-by · 7 years ago

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This is amazing!

#I want to draw like this #Kamen Rider Build #RABBIT! TANK!#Best match #ARE YOU READY??!!

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seokra · 4 years ago

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IF YOU LET ME...|PART 8 (JJK)

Series: If You Let Me

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mostly Fluffy, Angst, Smut (very little), Mutual Pining

Word Count: 3710

WARNINGS: Masturbation, nipple play, rabbit vibrator, (I think that’s it...)

A/N: This one is a long one! Let me know what you think!

You get better as the weeks pass. You’ve returned to work and Jimin is happy to see you doing well. Hoseok still tries to contact you, but you ignore him every time. You’ve avoided outings where you knew he’d be present. Sure, it sucks that your friendship is now ruined, but you’re finally valuing your own worth and happiness. He never deserved your time or feelings.

You decided to make a change with yourself, starting with your hair. Jimin was getting his hair toned one day, so you decided to accompany him and chop off your long locks. You’re now sporting a bob that ends right beneath your chin. You even bleached the bottom half of your hair, making you look less sweet.

Jungkook is coming over for your weekly movie night. He hasn’t seen your hair yet, so when he walks in with a grocery bag of snacks, he’s stopped in his tracks at the sight of you.

“Y-you changed your hair!”

“I did,” you smirked.

He stays planted by the entrance of your living room, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“What? Does it look bad or something?” you question, nervously pulling back strands of your hair behind your ears, flashing the platinum blonde layers.

“N-no! I-It looks great! You look great,” he stutters, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally steps into your living room. He places the bag onto your coffee table and sits down on the couch next to you. You lean forward when you spot your favorite bag of chips, grabbing it.

“So what kind of movie are you in the mood for tonight?” you ask him as you scroll through the options. “Christmas movies?” when he doesn’t answer, you glance at him from your peripheral and see that he’s still staring at your hair.

“You okay, Jungkookie?” you ask, turning to face him.

He blinks a couple times before shaking his head. “Yeah, sorry… it’s just… you’ve always had your hair long… this is different…” he answers, cheeks turning a deep rose color.

“Different in a good way?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Thanks, Jungkookie,” you chuckle. “So, what should we watch tonight?”

“Oh, uh… how about we binge the Harry Potter stories? You’re giving me Narcissa Malfoy vibes,” he shyly grins.

“All of the movies?” you quirk your eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” he shrugs.

“But it’s already 7:00 at night… It’s a 20 hour marathon…”

“And?”

“It’s thursday…”

“And?”

“We still have to work tomorrow…”

“So, we’ll play hookie,” he shrugs. You scoff and punch him in the arm. “Ow! Okay! Okay! We can watch something else… You’ve got a strong arm, Y/N!” He winces as he massages the area you just hit.

You smile triumphantly as you stuff a couple of chips into your mouth. You scroll through and land on a Netflix Christmas special.

Half way through the movie, you position yourself facing Jungkook.

“So, I’d like to start working out,” you state.

“Oh? Does this have something to do with your “post-breakup” makeover, or something?” He teases.

You roll your eyes and shove him by the shoulder. “No! I just… haven’t been taking care of my health, and I want to change that.”

Jungkook nods at your words.

“I don’t know where to start… and I know you work out all the time...” you nervously ramble. Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for you to finish your thought. “Could you, maybe, wanna be my workout partner? You know, help me out with my form and find what exercises suit me best?” you propose.

Jungkook brings his hand up to his chin, furrowing his eyebrows as he thinks it over. “Sure. I can help you out,” he finally answers with a nod of his head.

“Oh, thank you, Jungkookie!” You squeal as you jump and capture him in a hug. “You’re the bestest friend, you know that?”

“Ha, yeah… It’s no problem, Y/N,” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes casted down on his lap.

When the movie ends, you stand up and stretch your limbs with a yawn.

Jungkook moves to stand up as well.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow after work?” he asks you.

“For what?” you question back in confusion.

“To workout?”

“Oh! Yeah! Right! Already?”

“Yeah, why not?” He chuckles at you.

“Okay,” you huff.

The next day, you meet Jungkook at his gym. He had texted you the address earlier in the day and you made your way over there as soon as you left work. Jungkook gave you his free guest pass to use and showed you to the women’s locker room. You quickly changed into a pair of mint green athletic leggings and matching sports bra and tank top you had purchased over your lunch break. You change from your heels into your black Nike runners, and throw your hair up into a messy bun.

When you emerge from the locker room you accidentally bump into Jungkook.

“Oh, sorry-” Your jaw drops when you take in the sight of him. His long locks are tied up into a ponytail, putting his undercut on full display. Short strands of baby hair that didn’t reach his hair tie fall over his forehead, framing his face. He has on a cut off white tee, exposing his muscular arms and tattooed sleeve, and a pair of plain grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but stare. You knew the boy was ripped with how he never misses a day at the gym, but you would have never guessed he looked this good.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you teasingly.

You finally break your eyes from him, trying your best to hide the flush on your cheeks, but Jungkook notices and lowly chuckles to himself.

“C’mon, let’s start with stretching,” he says as he gently tugs on your arm, guiding you to an area of foam mats.

Jungkook guides you through the stretches, making sure you’re properly warming up your muscles. He isn’t shy with the way his hands naturally grab your hips or press on your back to help position you correctly. You’d be lying if you said your heart rate didn’t accelerate whenever you felt the heat of his hands on you, but you’re also quick to push the unfamiliar feeling away. You and Jungkook have cuddled many times before and you’ve never felt this little spark in your chest, so why is this any different? Maybe it was because you haven’t been intimately touched by a man in a while, you sum up.

After stretching and a few warm up exercises, he has you do cardio on the treadmill until you’re out of breath with sweat dripping from your face. He hands you his water bottle and you chug all of its contents, making him laugh a little. Next, he moves you to the weight machines and has you do a couple of reps at each machine, working every inch of your body. Once you’ve finished, he makes sure to help you stretch out the muscles you’ve utilized. As you’re stretching, you catch sight of a petite woman, occupying one of the punching bags. The way she punches and kicks the bag with such vigor and force amazes you. Who would have thought someone so small had that much power in them?

“Would you like to try that?” Jungkook asks, breaking you from your reverie.

“You box, too?” you question.

“It’s part of my workout routine,” he confirms, shrugging.

“Could you teach me?”

“Of course,” he gently grins.

You take the moment to admire his features that are usually covered by his hair, like his cheek bones and his strong brows. You don’t notice that Jungkook was staring at you, too until he looks away, cheeks a tint darker than normal. He stands up and lends you a hand, helping you to your feet as well.

“Did you wanna shower in the locker room, or did you want to wait until you get home?” he asks.

“I didn’t bring any spare clothes besides these and my work clothes,” you inform him.

“That’s fine. I was just going to see if you wanted to grab some food before we head home. I didn’t know if you wanted to shower first.”

“We can do that. I’m actually starving, now that I think about it,” you sheepishly chuckle.

“Alright, grab your belongings and meet me by the door. I know a place down the street with the best ramen,” he grins.

When you exit the locker room, Jungkook is already waiting by the front doors, duffle bag slung over one shoulder. His hair is still tied up, but he’s covered his arms with a grey sweater matching his pants. He’s concentrating on something on his phone, eyebrows pulled together when you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, ready to go?”

You nod your head in confirmation and the two of you head out of the gym.

When you enter the noodle shop, you notice that it’s quite small but the ambience is very cozy and comfortable. There are only four square top tables in the dining area and three of them are currently occupied, so Jungkook pulls you towards the only open table, pulling out a chair motioning you to sit down.

“Sit here, I’ll go and order,” he tells you.

As he walks away, you pull out your phone. You have three new messages from Hoseok. You sigh with a roll of your eyes as you place your phone back into your purse. Jungkook returns with two bottles of soju, two shot glasses, and two water bottles.

“Soju?” you question, cocking your eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, why not? It is Friday night,” he shrugs, flashing his adorable bunny smile.

You just smile and shake your head in return. He grabs one of the green bottles and pours a shot for both of you. You bow your head in thanks as you accept the shot, holding it up and he follows suit.

“To new beginnings,” you say.

“To new beginnings.”

As you set down the empty glass, a petite, old lady comes by, setting down a bowl of kimchi and a plate of grilled pork belly on the table. She then places a bowl of ramen in front of you.

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a bow of your head.

She gives you a warm smile before placing another bowl in front of Jungkook.

“Jungkook-ssi, you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend! Aigooo… She’s beautiful!” the old lady comments as she looks between the two of you.

Your eyes widen and a blush paints over your features as you look at Jungkook. His features mirror yours as he starts to correct her, “oh, uh, actu-”

“My goodness, where are my manners! I’ll let you two enjoy your meal in peace, and don’t worry about paying, this meal is on the house,” she states with a wave of her hand as she walks away, but not before shooting Jungkook a wink which has him shrinking in his seat from embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook is quick to apologize.

“It’s fine, Jungkookie,” you giggle at his state.

You go to take the first bite of your ramen and your eyes immediately bulge out of your sockets. “Oh my god, this is so good!” you exclaim with a mouthful of noodles.

Jungkook laughs at your reaction. “I know, right? Here, try it with some kimchi,” he states as he places a few pieces of kimchi into your bowl. You dig in as he watches you. You hum in satisfaction at the flavors and Jungkook grins.

After you’ve both finished your ramen, the old lady returns to collect the empty bowls.

“How was it?” she asks.

“Oh, it was delicious! Thank you, ma’am!,” you answer with a bright smile.

“Oh, I’m glad you enjoyed it! And please, call me auntie,” she smiles back.

You bow back in appreciation and she walks away. Jungkook begins to fill the shot glasses with soju and hands you one.

“How about we play a game?” Jungkook proposes.

“Hmm… what about truth or dare?” you challenge.

“Bet.”

“Okay, I’ll start, since I’m older,” you excitedly say. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“Hmm… “ You start looking around the shop and spot a table of young girls. “I dare you to try and get one of those girls’ numbers.”

“Which one?”

You look back at the table and pick the one that isn’t too engaged in the conversation, just sitting quietly, smiling at whatever her friends are saying. You watch as Jungkook gets up and makes his way towards the table. The girls immediately stop talking and stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man walking towards them. Jungkook casually places a hand on their table and leans closer to the girl you picked out. You watch as he flashes his dazzling smirk of his, making the girl blush profusely. She locks eyes with you nervously, making you quickly turn around. Jungkook returns to your table shortly after, plopping down onto his chair.

“So? Did you get it?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. She told me she doesn’t think my girlfriend would appreciate me flirting with her and sent me back,” he rolls his eyes playfully, a grin playing on his lips.

“Did you tell her we aren’t together?”

“I tried but she shut me down,” he shrugs.

“Lame. Since you failed at the challenge, you have to drink.”

“What? But I did the dare!” Jungkook exclaims in disbelief.

“Yeah but you didn’t successfully get her number.”

“Fine…” he picks up the shooter and downs the alcohol.

“Alright, your turn.”

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Dare.”

Jungkook scans the room before setting his eyes on a jukebox tucked into the corner of the noodle shop.

“I dare you to go and pick a song from that jukebox over there and start dancing by yourself.”

“What??”

“You heard me.”

“Ugh… alright.”

Jungkook hands you a quarter and you make your way to the jukebox. It’s mostly filled with trot songs, so you select the only one you’re familiar with, which just so happens to be “the Twist”. As the music begins to play, you start to twist your hips and try your best to get lost in the song, making a fool of yourself. Jungkook covers his mouth as he tries to conceal his laughter. Once the song is over, a group of drunk guys sitting at the table closest to the jukebox start clapping and whistling at your performance. You smile and dramatically bow in front of them. You saunter back to your table and smirk at Jungkook.

“Drink up, Jungkookie.” Jungkook just rolls his eyes and slams the shot.

You and Jungkook continue with your game until the second bottle of soju is empty, filling up the last shots of the night.

“Okay, Kookie, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Hmmm… How come in the two years I’ve known you, you haven’t had a single girlfriend?”

Taken aback by your question, Jungkook takes a moment to answer. He can’t tell you it’s because you’re the only one he wants to be with, not yet at least. So he shrugs and says, “I don’t know.”

“Oh c’mon… You bring home girls to sleep with every week. You’re telling me none of them seemed good enough to date?” you ask in disbelief.

“Why does it matter, Y/N?” he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I just find it ridiculous that someone as hot as you hasn’t dated anyone in two years!” you exclaim before slapping your hand over your mouth after hearing what you just confessed.

“You think I’m hot?” Jungkook questions, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

You sigh in defeat. “I mean I’d be blind if I didn’t notice how good looking you are, Jungkook,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook just shakes his head chuckling at your response.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“....Dare. No! Truth.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yes,” you nervously reply.

Jungkook smirks at you before asking, “Have you ever wanted to sleep with me?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I…” you pause a moment trying to figure out how to properly answer before quickly grab your shot glass and downing the sweet liquid. Jungkook bursts into laughter at your refusal to answer.

“That’s not fair,” he fake whines, leaning back in his chair crossing his arms dramatically over his chest as a pout sets on his lips.

You smile and shrug at him.

He shakes his head and smiles back.

“Another round?” he asks.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” you chuckle.

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you home.”

You nod your head in response and begin to stand. As the two of you walk towards the door, the auntie waves you guys goodbye.

“Come back soon, kids!” She shouts.

“We will! Thank you, Auntie!” the two of you answer in unison, making her smile.

When you step outside, you shiver a little as the cold wind seeps through your thin jacket.

“Are you cold?”

“I-I’ll be fine,” you answer through clattering teeth.

Jungkook doesn’t listen and digs through his duffle bag for a large hoodie. “Here.”

“No, I’m okay, Jungkook, really.”

“Just wear it, please? You’ll be even colder later on,” Jungkook insists.

Taking the sweater, you begin to pull it over your head. Jungkook looks down and notices that your shoelaces are untied so he crouches down and ties them for you.

“Oh, you didn’t need to-”

“Too, late,” Jungkook interrupts you as he stands up again. “Let’s go?”

You couldn’t find any words so you just nod your head and follow him down the street.

The walk to your apartment isn’t too long. You’re almost there when you think of the brilliant idea of racing the rest of the way. You look at Jungkook with a devilish grin.

“Last one to my apartment has to pay for food and drinks tomorrow,” you challenge. Jungkook barely had enough time to register what you had just said before you’re already sprinting ahead of him.

“Hey! That’s not fair! I wasn't ready!” he shouts after you.

“Too bad!” You yell back, turning around into a backwards jog.

“Y/N! Watch out!”

You furrow your brow and turn around, noticing too late that you’ve just run into traffic. You stare at a pair of headlights coming towards you, the sound of a car horn blaring but it sounds far away. Next thing you knew, Jungkook has slammed into your body pulling you out of traffic. He has you tightly embraced against his chest on the other side of the street. You can feel his heart beating fast against his ribcage. Still stunned you look up at him and he’s glaring at you.

“What were you thinking?!” He scolds you.

“I-I… I don’t know… I-I’m sorry,” you stammer.

“Jesus, you scared me…” he sighs as he hugs you tighter. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. J-just startled…” you answer sheepishly. “Th-thank you, Jungkookie,” you softly say.

“Watch where you’re going, girl!” The guy in the car that almost hit you yells out of his car window. You and Jungkook both look over at him.

“Sorry!” you shout back and the man just shakes his head as he drives off.

“C’mon,” Jungkook says, letting go of you, but he grabs your hand dragging you along.

You don’t miss the electricity flowing through your veins from his hand in yours. His hand is significantly larger than yours, you note, but somehow it fits perfectly into your own. His hand is a little calloused but it’s warm and somehow still soft at the same time.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at your joined hand until Jungkook looks back at you and asks, “Are you coming?”

You break your gaze from your limbs and meet his eyes, cheeks heating up. “I-uh, yeah, sorry,” you reply as you start to walk a little faster to meet his pace.

The two of you walk the rest of the way to your apartment, hand in hand. When you reach the steps to your apartment complex, you turn to face Jungkook.

“Thank you, Jungkook… for everything…”

“Ah, no worries. I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” He stands there just looking at you like he’s waiting for something.

Your eyes travel to your joined hands. “Uh… Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” there’s a glint in his eyes for a quick moment before they glance at his hand still wrapped around yours. He quickly lets go of your hand like it burned him, stuffing both of his hands into the pocket of his sweater. “Ah, sorry…”

You just smile at him. “It’s okay,” you say, turning towards your door. “See you.”

“See you,” he says as he starts to walk away from you.

Jungkook flexes his hand, still feeling the warmth of yours in his. His heart beats rapidly in his chest, remembering how well your hand fit inside of his and how soft it felt against his rough one. On the way to his apartment he thinks about when he’ll be able to hold your hand again.

When you enter your apartment, you kick off your shoes and are immediately reminded of the way Jungkook tied your laces for you. You feel your heart stutter a bit at the memory and shake your head, trying to get rid of this fuzzy feeling blooming in your chest. You head straight to your bathroom for a cool shower, letting it wash off the dried sweat on your body and the heat still lingering beneath your skin from all of the contact from Jungkook. After your shower, you throw on an old oversized t-shirt and lay down on your bed. Your mind goes back to Jungkook’s hands. The way they brushed against your body while you exercised, the way he would grab your waist to help center you, and lastly, the way they felt in yours. You also thought about the way his muscular arms felt engulfing you when he saved you from getting hit by that car. You couldn’t register it at the moment, but you felt safe in them. That fuzzy feeling in your chest started to creep up on you again, so you flip over and bury your face in your pillow and let out a frustrated scream.

“No, it’s just Jungkook. He’s just being a good friend. There’s nothing happening between us,” you say trying to convince yourself. “I just need to get laid…” As you say that, Jungkook’s last question in truth or dare comes back to you. “Have you ever wanted to sleep with me?” Your hands fly up to cover your face as you let out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck.”

You reach over to the drawer of your bedside table and pull out a baby blue rabbit vibrator. You pull up some porn on your phone, trying to concentrate on the video you selected as you circle the vibrating bunny around your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you start to get wetter and wetter. You eventually toss your phone to the side, just listening to the moans of the pornstars as you close your eyes. Your mind wanders to a large tattooed hand running from your throat, down between your breasts, along your stomach, and in between your legs. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar coil begin to twist in the pit of your stomach, so you insert the silicone rod of the rabbit into your pussy and start fucking yourself at a steady speed. With each thrust of your wrist, the vibrating bunny hits your clit, making you jolt and whimper. You play with one of your nipples with your free hand as you thrust the vibrator deeper inside of you. Before you know it, your toes are curling and your back arches off of your mattress as your orgasm wracks through your body. You loudly moan out a name as your body shakes from the vibrations of the tiny rabbit still pressed against your clit.

Once you’ve calmed down from your orgasm, you gently pull out the baby blue vibrator, turning it off and throwing it across your bed. You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath. When your mind clears, you finally realize who’s name you moaned out.

Jungkook.

#hoseok x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts fanfiction #bts smut #hoseok smut #jungkook f2l #jungkook smut #bts angst #hoseok angst #mutual pining #unrequited love #love triangle #friends to lovers #jungkook fanfic #hoseok fanfiction #if you let me series #if you let me

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theblackberrygirl · 4 years ago

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Dead Hearts

Summary: The Red Room is destroyed and Natasha has some unresolved goodbyes to say.

Author’s Note: alright I wasn’t super happy with this bc I felt like it was kinda OOC but my beta reader said she rly liked it so here it is!

Warnings: torture, death, death of children, hypothermia, grief. It’s sad alright

This is a song fic and it’s inspired by Dead Hearts by Stars

Tell me everything that happened

Tell me everything you saw

They had lights inside their eyes

“JARVIS, show me the article,” Nat asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Of course, Ms. Romanoff.”

The headline streamed across the TV in her room. Russian training academy, Red Room, has been destroyed and burned by the US government.

Her stomach dropped. No. It can’t be true. The Red Room doesn’t just get destroyed. That’s not possible, it’s not true.

But it was. It was true. The Red Room had been reduced to a pile of burning cinder blocks.

She felt a strange feeling in her heart. She definitely wasn’t nostalgic. The Red Room had kidnapped her from that house fire when she was 4, leaving her parents to die. They tortured her, made her into a killer, messed with her mind and memories.

They made her kill her friends.

When she had escaped when she was 16 and Clint had found her, she never looked back. She ran and ran because running was what she knew, it was all she knew.

But now, she couldn’t run away. No, for once in her life, it was time to run towards something.

“JARVIS, is the quinjet fueled up?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff, but-”

“Get me 29 roses please. I’m leaving in 10 minutes.” JARVIS didn’t answer her, but she knew he was listening.

It was late, around 2 in the morning. Tony would be in his lab. The others would hopefully be asleep. Clint… well, he was a wild card at night. He could be anywhere. But she had known him for years. She knew how to avoid him.

She threw some essentials in a bag before heading towards the quinjet. JARVIS had been listening, because a bundle of blood-red roses laid on the countertop.

She picked them up on her way out to one of the jets. She needed to do this. Not just for herself.

But for them.

Did you see the closing window?

Did you hear the slamming door?

They moved forward, and my heart died

“Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff has just entered the roof.”

“What? Why?” Tony asked, actually pausing his newest project to listen to JARVIS.

“She asked me to make sure one of the quinjets had fuel and to get her roses.”

“That’s helpful,” Tony grumbled. “Is Barton still up?”

“Mr. Barton is currently downstairs in the archery range.”

“Typical. Tell him to come up here, will ya J?”

“Right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony didn’t go back to his tinkering. He wanted to give Natasha her space, since she’d probably kill him if he didn’t. But at the same time, if this was something important, he didn’t want her to be alone.

“Tony? What’s up?” Clint had arrived in the lab, his bow on his back.

“Hey, do you know if today is anything important for Nat? An anniversary or something?”

“...no? Not that I know of anyways. Why? She alright?”

“I’m not sure, Katniss. JARVIS just told me that she was going up to the jet with roses.”

“Where is she going?”

“The GPS coordinates are set for an area approximately 50 miles West of Vorkuta, Russia.”

“Russia? Why would she be going back to-”

“JARVIS, how many roses did she want?” Clint interjected.

“29, sir.”

“That’s specific,” Tony commented.

Clint didn’t say anything. He wordlessly picked up one of the laptops Tony had laying around and typed something into the search bar.

“Oh no, Tasha… I knew you talked about it doing something, but...”

“What? What is it?”

Clint spun the laptop around for him to see. “The Red Room. It’s gone. And I think I know why she’s going back”

Please, please tell me what they looked like

Did they seem afraid of you?

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew...

Even in a quinjet, the ride from New York to Northern Russia was pretty long, giving her plenty of time to think and contemplate.

She did not want to think. Not about the Red Room, or Madame B, or the other girls, anything.

You owe it to them to remember.

All of her memories before 16 were jumbled. But some things… some things can’t be erased or altered by drugs.

She remembers their names. All of them. All 29.

She had been the youngest girl in her class of Black Widows. Some said that was a weakness. Others said it was an advantage.

But when they brought little Natalia Romanova to that place, still covered in burns and ash, she didn’t care about becoming the Black Widow. She wanted her mother, and father, in their little one-bedroom apartment, with her stuffed rabbit Alexei. It was always cold in that apartment, but when she was snuggled between her mother and father, she felt safe.

She learned quickly that safety was not a feeling in the Red Room. That was something for children, and she was not a child. She was Natalia, made of marble.

On her first night there, when she had silently cried from the pain of cold metal handcuff cutting her wrist, one of the older girls had helped her. She was 8. Her name was Nadia.

Nadia had stolen one of the handcuff keys from the guards. She had unlocked the cuffs and hugged her. Made her a makeshift doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Told her stories of magic and heros.

In the morning, they found out about what Nadia had done. They punished her until she couldn’t scream anymore. Just before they killed her, she looked at Natalia. “It’s ok”, she whispered. Just before they pulled the trigger.

Magic had not been in that place in a very long time.

After Nadia had been killed, Natalia funneled her grief and fear into her training. She rose to the top, taking down girls who were twice her age and twice her size. She used untraditional methods on the mat, using her legs to take them down since that was where she was strongest.

Her handlers were very impressed with her sudden prowess. She became the best dancer, best fighter, best liar. She picked up the languages quickly. She was as stoic as stone, never flinching or backing down from the threat of a punishment.

They never knew what fueled her excellence. Never knew that she was motivated by rage and grief. For her parents. For Nadia.

When she turned 9 years old, she decided that it was time to repay her debt to Nadia. There was a new girl, the last one for their class. The thirtieth. Sasha.

No one knew what had happened to Sasha. But they did know that she was good. She was unwavering, unmoving. During the day, anyways.

At night, Natalia could hear the girl in the bed next to her trying to muffle her cries. She took out the key that one of the guards had foolishly left in the washrooms. She carefully unlocked her own cuff and Sasha’s.

She rubbed her back silently. Rebraided her French braids that had come undone in the night. Made her a crude doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Just as Nadia had done for her.

The next morning, Natalia had waited all day for someone to take her to a room to be killed. But they never did. They hadn’t been caught.

Sasha and Natalia continued their routine every night. It was nice to have a friend in a place where friends were a myth.

They were friends for 2 years. They learned to master sneaking around. When Sasha turned 11, someone took her into a room alone. They did this all the time for training, interrogation practice, or just a mental test.

When Sasha didn’t come back that night, she knew something was wrong.

She never saw Sasha again. She didn’t know what happened to her. She still didn’t.

“Landing in 10 minutes,” the jet intercom told her. A wave of anxiety washed over her. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to turn around, go home, and never come back.

She hated the memories associated with this place. This was the closest she had ever been in the 12 years since Clint saved her. She avoided it like the plague.

The clearing the jet had landed in was still about 2 miles from the old academy. She pulled her coat and hat on and began her march through the barren fields and forest.

Tank tops and shorts. No shoes, she thought to herself. When she was 13, Madame B had given them all black tank tops and shorts. She took away their combat boots and forced them out into the bitter winds.

“Only the strongest will survive this challenge. Only those worthy of the Black Widow title will make it through this. If you are not ready, well, hypothermia isn’t a bad way to go,” she had told them. 2 girls out of the remaining 18 had died that day.

Then they had gone inside to train. The cold made their muscles achey and stiff, but the Red Room was not a place for complaints.

Then they did it all again the next day.

By the end of the week, 7 of the remaining 18 girls were dead, either from exhaustion or the cold. 11 remained from a group that was once 30.

Anastasia. Irina. Svetlana. Alina. Manya. Eva. Kyana.

Their dead hearts were everywhere. The lights inside their eyes extinguished. They’re still out there. And she still cares.

She always will.

I could say it, but you won't believe me

You say you do, but you don't deceive me

It's hard to know they're out there

It's hard to know that you still care

Pepper, Tony, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Steve, and Fury had all boarded a jet to Russia as soon as Clint told them what had happened. They weren’t going to let her go through this alone.

Natasha Romanoff liked to pretend she didn’t feel things. But they were her family. And family helped each other.

They all sat in silence. Natasha only had an hour on them, but that was still an hour where she was alone and hurting. Even Tony didn’t say anything.

Clint was playing with the spider necklace he always wore. Natasha had a matching one with an arrow. It was a symbol of how deep their friendship went.

Fury was completely still. He had his arms resting on his knees, looking straight ahead. His lips were more downturned than usual, and his forehead was more tense. You could only tell if you had known him for a long time, but Fury was upset. Upset that the woman he looked at as a daughter had to relive this. That she even had to live through it at all.

Clint and Fury were probably getting hit the hardest. They knew the most about what went down in the Red Room. They knew the most about how painful this had to be for their friend.

As the jet lightly set down in the field near the jet that Natasha had taken, they all prepared to walk the 2 miles in the cold weather.

The ground beneath their feet was completely frozen. Permafrost. Snowflakes rushed around their faces. It was painfully beautiful.

The sound of dried grass and leaves under their feet was the only sound on their walk. The wind whistled in their ears. The cold air bit into their exposed skin like needles.

Clint’s breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

She was standing on a pile of rubble with her back to them. Her flaming red hair was flying in the wind. In her arms was the bouquet of roses. Each rose had a note attached, written in Natasha’s small, elegant penmanship.

As Clint looked closer, he saw what the notes were. Names. All of them.

If Nat had realized they were there, she made no move to acknowledge them.

She just stood there. As if she was in shock. To be honest, she might’ve been.

“Sometimes, I swear I can see them,” Natasha spoke. She sounded so… broken. “Everywhere. In the reflection of a window. When I heard a door slam, it was like they were right there like they used to be. Like how they were in here.”

They all stayed quiet. She needed to get this out.

“It’s like they’re following me. Protecting me. I miss them. I miss them all.”

“Inna, Katrina, Larisa, Polina, and Oksana were the first 5 to go.” She held the 5 flowers tightly in her hand, like if she squeezed it tightly enough, she could bring them back. “5, 7, 6, 4, and 8. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she whispered. Her emotions were coming to the surface, hidden by a thin veil of control.

“Raisa, Sonya, Ulyana, Vanka. I didn’t know any of you. Not personally. But all of you deserved so much better than what you got.”

“Luda, Lubov, and Klara. You were 8 years old. Triplets. Nothing could come between you three. Not the Red Room. Not even death.”

Clint started to move closer towards his best friend. He could see the way she was shaking.

“That week when we stood outside for hours. The cold and exhaustion took 7. Anastasia, Irina, Svetlana, Alina, Manya, Eva, Kyana. I hope that you weren’t in pain when you died. I hope you’re finally resting.”

Only 10 roses were left in her arms, the other 19 laid out on the ground in front of her. The bright red petals contrasted sharply with the grey cinder blocks and white snow.

“Yelizaveta. Liz. We were in actual hell together, and yet you somehow managed to make me smile with your fucked-up sense of humor. In a place like that, dark humor is the only kind you have.” A small smile joined the tears running down her face. “I hope I’ll see you again one day.”

“Taisiya, Sonechka, Nikita, Mischa, Maya, Luda. You were all so smart. And so strong. You fought harder than everyone. Even now, I have yet to meet someone as smart as you six, and 2 of my best friends have more than one PhD,” she laughed.

She was down to the final three roses. Clint put his arm around her. The dam was threatening to break any moment now.

“Nadia.” She let her tears fall for Nadia. “I wouldn’t be alive without you. I wouldn’t have gotten to meet my family. I wouldn’t have gotten to become an aunt without you.” Clint had already been crying, they all had, even Fury, but that had struck him deep in his heart. “I owe you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she choked out. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she gently set the rose down on the ground.

“When I was 14, we had to do torture training.” Pepper let out a small gasp. “After I had finished the whipping and electrocution day, Anya split her bread with me. She cleaned the cuts that I couldn’t reach. In the morning, I-” Her voice began to crack. “They made me be the one to kill her. She was 15.” She set Anya’s rose on the ground next to the others. “You didn’t deserve it, Anya. You were always so good. Better than I ever was.”

“Sasha. Sasha and I were best friends,” she let out a small bittersweet laugh. “When I was with her, I felt like, maybe, we could lead normal lives. Escape. Be happy. One day, when we were 11, they took her away and never brought her back.” She held the rose with Sasha written on it in her hand. “I’m sorry, Sash. I’m so, so sorry. For everything.”

“You forgot one,” Clint whispered. He held out one more red rose. “Natalia Romanova. A little girl orphaned in a fire, who did what she had to do to survive. Who walked through hell and back and still found herself a family and a home.” He set the rose down with the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cried. Clint hugged her tightly as they sank to the ground.

“We were all so young. We were all kids. Just kids,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

Years upon years, over 2 decades worth of grief, sadness, fear, rage, and pain came pouring out. She had been bottling these feelings up for 24 years, shoving them down, and now they were finally being released. Finally being set free.

“They were kids that I once knew. They were kids that I once knew...”

Now they’re all dead hearts to you.

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you...

#shut up elle #clint and natasha #platonic clintasha #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #Natasha romanoff fanfiction #red room #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #black widow #black widow fanfiction #clint barton #Hawkeye #tony stark #iron man #nick fury #I only wanna add tags for characters that like actually talk and stuff yknow #my writing #Spotify

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lowder-the-koopa · 2 years ago

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Gabu! Rabbit! Tank! Best Match! Are you ready? Hagane no moonsault! RabbitTank! Yeah! Rider Time! Kamen Rider Zi-O! Here's Kamen Rider Super-1, Black, Black RX, Shin, ZO, J, Kiva, Build, and Zi-o. Next up is the main group of my Yo-Kai Watch AU which consists of Komasan, Jibanyan, Usapyon, Blizzaria, Kamen Rider Decade, and Kamen Rider Diend.

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redqueen-hypothesis · 4 years ago

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duo dates ➳ mlqc

KIRO

⤞ visiting animal rescue shelters together

it’s obvious that kiro has quite the soft spot for furry animals from the sheer number of strays he’s picked off the streets one way or another. both amused and inspired by how excited he gets from being around apple box and cello, you decide to feature him in one of your documentaries about abandoned pets, allowing him to work with a rescue shelter for a day. you’ve never seen him so excited, giggles and delighted laughter falling freely from his mouth as puppies and kittens crawl over him, nosing and licking at every part of him. he gets very emotional when he hears about the number of animals that get abandoned and have to be euthanized once they stop being ‘cute’, and the staff lets out a collective sniff from behind the cameras when they see his own eyes filling with tears.

so, it’s no surprise when kiro decides to head back to the animal shelter on his own, and he invites you along with him too! the two of you become longtime volunteers at the shelter, and kiro absolutely loves the animals there (you’d jokingly told him that you’re jealous before, to which he showered you with loud kisses and ardent declarations of love until you were dying of embarrassment). he names all of the animals there with some of the weirdest names, like ‘triangle ears’ and ‘fur tail’, but tends to forget them and mix them up with each visit. will wear the animal mascot suit and stand outside to encourage volunteers to sign up, and gives monthly anonymous donations but the staff all know it’s him. he complains they only treat him extra nice during that time, but you know all the staff adore him (and honestly, who doesn’t, with that pure heart and bright smile?)

not afraid to get down and dirty with the animals! you and the rest of the staff watch with varying degrees of admiration (and horror) as he throws himself into the mud along with the animals, stealing squeaky toys and toy bones alike from right under their noses and running for his life as a pack of dogs chase him from behind. when kiro’s exhausted himself playing with them, he’ll come into the shade damp with sweat and immediately flop down with his head on your lap, pretending to snore loudly, although he really does fall asleep sometimes. refers to himself as the dad and you as the mom, and will sometimes tell the pups to ask you for permission to wolf down their dog chow. “it’s practice for taking care of our future family!” he insists, wrapping his arms around you right after he’s finished chasing the dogs in the rain. when you shake your head and ask him where on earth you’re going to find a family as chaotic as this, he slyly winks and says he wants as many kids as there are dogs in the shelter. you aim a kick at him.

GAVIN

⤞ learning self defense from him

it had started for a multitude of reasons. first of all, you had mentioned wanting to get into shape and shed some excess some way, and had been looking for a way to get fit quickly. secondly, there had been a stalker who had been following you home for a few nights when you left the office late, although that had been quickly put to an end when gavin came over to pick you up on a late night food run and promptly made the guy eat pavement. he’d been worried about you, and suggested learning a form of self defense in order to better protect yourself in case he wasn’t there. lastly, you wanted to see gavin sleeveless, sweaty and... yeah. that’s it. that’s the reason.

the first few lessons, you’re so distracted by that tight fitting black tank top and dear lord those arms and abs that you nearly get your nose broken by your dear teacher gavin, who panics for a good entire hour and won’t stop apologising. he suggests stopping the lessons, but you insist on continuing, determined to actually focus this time round (you can ogle his body another time when there isn’t a fist flying at your face). it starts off as a way to spend more time with gavin and allowing him to do what he likes at first, but then your competitive side quickly starts to take over and you find yourself becoming more and more interested in the sport itself. gavin never really goes very hard on you, but he isn’t an easy coach either. he works with you to improve your fitness levels, going to the gym with you, following you on your jogging rounds whenever you want him to, and letting you punch him all you want (your hands probably hurt more than his rock hard body does anyway).

your favourite part, though, is watching gavin truly sink into his element, because he looks extra hot when he’s in the fighting ring squaring off in a practice match against another opponent. there’s a calm, composed expression on his face, but his eyes shine with a dangerous light that remind you of a starving wolf. when he does go toe to toe with his opponent, you rarely have a second to blink before gavin’s already moving lightning quick to take his him down. it’s a side of him you rarely get to see since he’s always so sweet and tender with you, but you can’t help gushing to him about how sexy he is and watching as his ears burn bright red with barely suppressed (but pleased) embarrassment. in the fighting gym, you’re the only one who’s managed a takedown on him before so you’re somewhat of a legend, but you had played dirty, kissing him full on the mouth when he wasn’t expecting it and he had promptly frozen on the spot.

suffice to say no one else has dared to replicate the technique on him.

VICTOR

⤞ teaching him the ways of an arcade

he would have never agreed to this if he had known just how awful he was at these. victor li can conquer the financial business scene in less than five years straight out of college but can’t for the life of him pass a single level of dance off, much less win against a child less than half his age. he looks so... uncomfortable stepping into that noisy space playing all sorts of loud, upbeat music at once, ear splitting hollers from kids playing other games punctuating the mishmash of songs - it’s only then that you realise that victor has never, in his entire childhood, set foot into an arcade before.

you collect your card at the counter before dragging him to the racing games, sitting him firmly down in your seat before teaching him how to customise his own car. he would have spent hours doing this until you nudge him to the next section, the actual race, and that’s when he starts panicking in typical victor fashion, trying to act calm but asking all sorts of funny questions. demands to know what’s the difference in the game for auto and manual steering, protests repeatedly that “this isn’t how a car works”. it’s even more hilarious seeing him try out the dance games, in which he had faced off against a ten year old and promptly lost. it hurt his pride, but you had laughed so hard your face turned red, so maybe it’s worth it. but only a little bit. and he’s still not doing this again. awhile into the arcade he begins to relax a little and his competitive side starts to shine through, he’s no longer worried about looking like an idiot and instead puts his all into every single game. in fact, you find yourself increasingly distracted by that very endearing expression of focus on his face as he awkwardly tries to navigate his long legs according to the beat, and the childish excitement plain on his face when he finally passes a level makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

at this point, he’s calling the claw machine a complete scam and is ready to sue the entire arcade chain when you’ve decided enough is enough and pull him from the arcade. the two of you end up cramped in a photobooth with your prizes, a totoro hood for him and a rabbit ear headband for you, and you keep the polaroids in your wallet ever since then. you don’t realise that he’s stolen one for himself, and now it sits buried deep in the drawer of his work desk where he looks at it secretly when you aren’t there.

LUCIEN

⤞ horror house/escape room to find his weakness

lucien’s practically unflappable in any situation, seemingly able to respond to any crisis or chaos with the same, serene smile. when you ask him what he’s afraid of, he gives you the same cheesy answer he always does: losing you is the only thing he’s fearful of (to which you just don’t stop blushing, no matter how many times he says it. is it the way he looks at you, or the way his voice just drops to a genuine, low whisper whenever he says it?) as such, you had challenged yourself to find out what his weaknesses were, and tried a variety of the strangest ideas on the internet such as sticking toy cockroaches in the kitchen, only to get terrified yourself at the sight of a forgotten dummy you’d left on the shelf and had nearly broken a cup in the process. after that, lucien had suggested taking your attempts out of the house instead - and thus, horror houses and escape rooms it was.

going to horror houses with lucien is probably the best and worst idea you’ve ever had. in terms of effectiveness of achieving your goal, it’s completely useless - even the most terrifying and renowned of horror houses have lucien walking out completely unfazed, or worse, carrying you in his arms bridal style because your legs are shaking too much to walk straight. the only upside to this is that when you’re terrified, you cling to lucien and he just whispers soothing words into your hair, explaining how the horror house uses mist and smoke dispensers here and there, how the lights change colour and where the actors hide. the poor actors have probably gotten tired of being repeatedly exposed and having to change positions, so many of the horror houses just give the two of you complementary coupons and beg you not to come back. the photos you get of the two of you always include you with the strangest expressions, while lucien’s face just looks like a ctrl+c ctrl+v of his usual expression.

in the end, you give up trying to scare him and just enjoy the horror houses with him, clinging to his arm when you’re scared and letting him calm you down. from the content smile on lucien’s face you see in the pictures, he looks like he’s rather enjoying this. you don’t know this, but he actually buys all the pictures and puts them in his own personal photo album. you’ll probably die of shame if you find out.

SHAW

⤞ busking together on the streets

you had mentioned being extremely nervous about your first time performing live at the live house with the band, so shaw had dragged you along with him to go busking on the streets with him. at first, you had been extremely resistant to the idea (it’s on the streets!! where people can just!! take videos of you and the entire world will know if you screw up!!), but shaw had encouraged you in his own strange way that included a lot of teasing, goading and actual breaking down of how the process would go before you felt confident enough to go with him. “don’t worry,” shaw had said standoffishly as he helped you set up your keyboard, not looking at you the entire time. “i’m way more handsome, so i’m sure they’ll be looking at me the entire time and won’t even notice if you play a completely different song.” offended, you had pulled at his ear, but you were smiling secretly to yourself the entire time, and whispered a ‘thanks’ under your breath. he pretended not to have heard it, but from the way his smirk seemed just a hint happier the entire evening, he must have.

you love little moments that lead up to the actual busking sessions every weekend, sending each other songs and working out the keys over the duration of the week. practicing together and watching as your chemistry falls more and more in sync until the two of you can do perfect runs without any words spoken between you, until you can read the little subtle cues in the way he flexes his fingers on the fretboard before going in on a particularly difficult solo, or the way he turns back to glance at you when your parts are coming up. perhaps the best thing of all is the test covers he sends you to discuss the song flows, because you (secretly) love the sound of his voice when he sings and keep every recording, listening to them when you fall asleep at night (little do you know he does the exact same thing, although he would rather die than let you find out).

shaw covers up for you when you play wrong notes, but he relentlessly teases you for them afterwards. throws hands if any hecklers in the audience insult your playing, and you have to drag him away, apologising for the rudeness while trying not to smile too hard as shaw swears loudly behind you. the money you make from the busking is usually spend on a late night supper after your busking sessions in small food joints whose owners and customers all seem to know shaw somehow, calling him a little rascal and thanking you for mellowing him out. shaw retorts by calling them old men spouting nonsense, hiding a fond smirk behind the cup of his pepsi-coke mix and stuffing food in your mouth when you laugh at him.

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theotherwesley · 4 years ago

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tagged by @skyeventide! BRO THANK YOU <3

Rules: Choose your favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

1) Right at the beginning of 2020 (*can we even count the January-February Era as part of 2020? It feels like a separate timeline lol) I designed a homebrew D&D campaign around an extended-universe Watership Down world, where all player characters are rabbits. :3 I designed it over the winter and DM’d my first test game with my family! It was so, so fun, and I had high hopes of continuing to playtest it and refine the rules this year.... ah, the best laid schemes o’ Buns and Men gang aft agley. U_U

Some samples:

2) I got a truly awesome commission from a client on FR to do some stained glass window designs for their D&D campaign’s pantheon of gods. I got 4/6 done with them before my computer staged a revolution amongst our household electronics and went into a coma, taking BF’s laptop, a backup disk, and for some reason the toaster, with it. Then after that, the 2020 vibe got really uhhhhhh, shall we say, intense, and even after I found solution for my computer trouble I basically had zero creative fluid in the tank, so this was the last serious art I did for most of the year. :(

But! I do really like these pieces, and I will eventually get to the remaining two...... sometime. I don’t want to jinx it. >>;

3) Got into a SUPER JUICY and EXTREMELY DENSE long-form RP with @salmaganto over on the Tolkien Blog. It involves so much research into historical and logistical minutiae about running a Big Evil Fortress, surviving sieges, uh... managing thrall labor, transitioning between war and peace... It is absolutely my favorite shit lol, just,,, 100% gratuitous worldbuilding nonsense, with my favorite micro-rarepair ship (or rather, its platonic counterpart). Again, this level of creative output, especially dealing with some controversial topics and in-depth analysis of like, authoritarian regimes, lost a looooooooooootttttttt of its um, escapist appeal. I desperately want to pick it back up, but man, this year was a lot, and I’m still recovering. _( :’| 」∠)＿ We’re all still recovering.

4) Did some nerdy fanart for two of my favorite actual-play shows:

5) Attended a Zoom life-drawing session hosted in Perth, and it was a blast!

6) Okay so this is a weird one, but, I edited a font??? I’m disproportionately pleased with this niche accomplishment. I had ZERO working knowledge of font design programs, and I went with a free, super nuts-and-bolts shareware application, taught myself how to use the basic functions, and then muddled my way through editing one of my favorite fonts, HamletOrNot:

“Well, this font isn't really Blackletter, but it has a certain historical touch, so it is welcome on these pages. The typeface Hamlet was designed by Edward Johnston for a Shakespeare edition, Cranach Press, 1929. The award winning book Hamlet was considered “the most beautiful book of the year 1930”. HamletOrNot – digitized by Manfred Klein & CybaPee.“

If you hunt down the mysterious user “CybaPee”, you find typographer Petra Heidorn and her many, many preserved, historical fonts, which have been painstakingly digitized and made available for free on... well, pretty much every free font website ever, which made it a real pain to source.

I love this font with my whole heart, and I very much wanted to use it for parts of my comic (you know, the one) but HamletOrNot has a couple of readability failings that made it a bad match for small dialogue, and worse for ME, SPECIFICALLY: it does not include most diacritic marks. *cries in Tôlkíën*

So I embarked on this fool’s quest to do some touchups and add the diacritics and special characters I’d need to spell all the crazy bullshit for the comic, because HOW HARD COULD IT BE, HAHA, TO ADD A FEW MARKS AND CLEAN UP A FEW TANGENTS? HAHAHA. HAHA. .....Anyway, I think I actually started this process sometime in like, 2019, but I FINISHED IT IN 2020, and I’m proud of myself.

I’m calling the modified font ArdaOrNot, and it looks something like this:

7) Oh yeah, about that comic (you know, the one):

‘Ey, would you look at that! Progress! :D Slow, agonizing, unoptimized progress! I was hoping I’d have the first six full color pages ready with lettering and everything by the end of 2020, but.... well, here we are. Wow, I am SO TIRED OF BEING SICK, I HAVE THINGS I WANT TO DO SO BAD HAHAHAA FUCK

8) Another minor accomplishment that I’m disproportionately proud of, I made some new baller playlists and polished up a few old ones to a fine gleam.

Anyway-- I don’t know who has and hasn’t been tagged, but consider this an invitation to anyone who has the energy to post your highlights from the last year. It was actually pretty therapeutic to see some things I DID manage to accomplish, because so much of this damn year felt empty and lonely and barren. But there they stand: the weird little triumphs that were sprinkled throughout the months, somehow improbably blooming in the wasteland. :’)

#WesleyArt #art by me #Lapinland #Forging Arda #long post #Wesley's 2020 Art Recap #Despite Everything

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Dive - Racetrack Higgins

A/N: More Racetrack. No warnings, just fluff. Obviously, an AU.

///

You adjusted the matching bottoms of your bandeau style bathing suit, checking yourself in the mirror. You had tried on enough bathing suits over the last week that you felt like you hadn't worn anything else. It wasn't like Racetrack asking you to spend time at the waterpark was unusual, it was just that usually it was more than the two of you.

You loved waterparks. Amusement parks were too crowded. Besides, you always got tired and sweaty from walking around. Waterparks were different though. Maybe it was just the fact that you could walk around in a bathing suit comfortably and not worry about getting gross and warm. Still, you always went with a group. Usually Racetrack and the other guys. Occasionally girlfriends or boyfriends would tag along. Or Davey would bring Les and it would be like a big family outing. You never just went with Racetrack.

Racetrack was your best friend but you were still cautious not to spend too much one on one time with him. Because you knew you were attracted to him. To his constantly mischievous eyes and his adorable boyish features and that lopsided grin he got on his face when he was thinking something he shouldn't be thinking. You were attracted to his personality too, completely vulnerable and guarded at the same time. He was the biggest flirt you knew but he was an honest guy at the end of it. So you were nervous to go out with just him. It was like setting yourself up for disaster.

"Hey," you heard the familiar voice on the other end of your door, "are ya ready yet?"

"I'm coming Race!" you laughed, "hold on!"

"It'll probably be closed by the time you're ready. Or all the water will evaporate and there will be none left!" Race said.

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing as you opened the door. You had pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a loose tank to cover yourself up. Race was leaning against the wall opposite your door, juul in his mouth and when you came out, he pushed off, heading down the stairs ahead of you.

"The water will still be there Harry," you joked as you followed him down the stairs to the front door.

"One can only hope," he muttered.

You pulled your sandals on and grabbed the bag you'd packed the night before. You were trying to remind yourself to be excited for the park. To not think that it was just the two of you.

Racetrack had texted you last night, asking if you wanted to go. You'd asked who else was coming (because you always did) and he'd replied that he was hoping it could be the two of you. That was what the text said.

'Just the two of us.'

The ride to the waterpark wasn't any indication that 'just us' was any sort of code for a date. Racetrack mostly concentrated on driving as erratically as one person soberly can and you tried to distract your already nervous stomach from getting even more sick by fiddling with the radio.

The waterpark itself was fairly dead, being that it was Tuesday at noon and most people were working. There were a few kids running around with their moms or babysitters but nothing to really bother with. Race was dragging you through the entrance, away from the guy who'd taken a whole three minutes to stamp your hand during check in.

"We should do tubing first," Racetrack mused, cutting through a mess of women with strollers to head to the slides.

You shrugged, getting in line beside him. Pairs tubing was fine with you. Usually when they went Mush went on the pairs tubing ride with her. Mostly because you were deathly afraid of going by yourself (after a tube flipped on you halfway down a slide).

"We should ride that lazy river thing," you commented, watching some people floating by under the bridge you were on.

"Yeah, yeah," Race nodded.

"I can wait on the side if you want," you laughed, assuming Racetrack was watching the blond a couple people up from them. She was obviously babysitting because she was way too young to have the two kids she was with.

"What?" He turned back to look at you, his brows knit in confusion.

"The blond you’re checking out is partner-less," you pointed out. You smiled at the end of it, trying not to seem bothered by it.

"I wasn't checking anyone out, thank you very much," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

You glanced over at him. You'd stopped at the outdoor lockers to drop off your things before finding a first ride, leaving you in just a bathing suit and Race in swim trunks. You were sure you'd checked him out at least five times since.

"Stop looking at me like that," Race muttered, sending you a glare.

"Looking at you like what?" you asked.

"All accusatory. I wasn't staring at another girl."

"Another girl?" You grinned, "you say it like we're dating."

Racetrack just huffed and turned away from you, throwing a mini tantrum like a five-year-old. You could hear him muttering under his breath about you.

"Two?" The girl at the stairs asked you, glancing at the rafts piled behind her.

"Yeah, just one raft," Race wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You smiled awkwardly and nodded a confirmation.

He took the double raft from the girl and head up the stairs first. You hated the stairs. It was the worst part of the rides. Having to walk up metal stairs that you could look through made you feel like you were going to fall. Race kept your hand in his, the bad mood he'd had two seconds earlier already gone.

"So," Race started, scrunching his face up as he tried to think of a viable topic to discuss. He felt more nervous than he was supposed to. This was supposed to be easy.

"Why are you wearing your hair like that?" You asked, pulling your hand out of his to reach up and tugged the thin elastic head band that kept his curls out of his face. You’d seen Finch wear his hair that way when he was dancing but you’d never seen Race with his hair like that.

"What's the matter with my hair?" Race swatted your hand away before shaking his hair out and fixing it back into place.

"Nothing," you laughed at his cranky mood, "it looks cute."

"Hmph," Racetrack tried to cross his arms but he couldn't because of the raft so he just looked the other way.

"What's the matter with your hair being cute," you asked.

"I was going for mature."

"Race," you grinned, "you and mature don't go in the same sentence.”

Racetrack pouted at you, his face once again scrunching up and making him look somewhat like an adorable rabbit. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at him.

"Maybe I feel like changing my look? Attracting different people." Race stumbled in the end of the sentence, realizing how stupid it sounded as the words left his mouth.

"That's irrelevant," you rolled your eyes.

The guy at the top of the stairs took your raft and Race climbed on first. You got on after him, sitting in between his legs and leaning back, letting him wrap his arms around your waist. The waterpark was a wonderful reason to snuggle up to a half-naked Racetrack Higgins. It was the best reason you were going to get.

"It's not irrelevant, it's actually extremely relevant, it's the most relevant thing in the world," Race stated as you waited for the guy to push you off.

"Race, we're about to go down a giant slide into a pool of water," you reasoned, "now is not the time to discuss your love life."

Just as you said it the guy behind you pushed the raft, causing Race to tighten his grip as you slid down the tunnel. You let out a small scream, grinning like a maniac as you went down the slide. The crash at the end was your favorite part.

Race shouted your name, right before you hit the water.

You turned to face him but you went under at the same time, missing whatever it was that he said. You sputtered to the surface, pushing the hair out of your face and locating Racetrack. He was only a foot behind you, swimming off to the side with the raft. You kicked over to him, grabbing the other side of the raft.

"What did you say?" you asked, climbing out of the pool.

Race climbed out, letting one of the workers grab the raft out of the pool. He shook his hair out and wrapped the headband around his wrist, finally meeting your gaze.

"What?"

"You said something when I went under," you mentioned.

"Oh, yeah, I said that what I was saying was relevant," he answered.

You groaned, was he really still arguing with you? "Okay Race, tell me how your love life is relevant to my comment about your hair being cute."

"You told Mush last week that you wouldn't mind a guy like Finch, because he's mature," Race stated.

"Yes, we were discussing Finch specifically and I said that he was nice and I didn't mind him. Why? Do you also want to date Finch?"

"Ha!" He pointed a finger at you, "so you do want to date Finch?"

"What are you smoking in that vape?" you pushed his hand away, "because I'm pretty sure that you sound like you're doing drugs."

"I'm not doing drugs! I'm mature, and responsible, and sweet," Race answered.

"Yes Race, you're the total package," you rolled your eyes. You were still standing by the pool. Those two little kids with the sitter were going down the slide again.

"So you like me?"

"What?"

"Well I was nervous because you told Mush that you liked Finch. So I was trying to be more...Finch-ish. Responsible, mature, sweet, you know. But then you were all 'we're not dating’ when I was clearly not checking that other girl out and I thought...my date at the waterpark is ruined because she doesn't like me. I was trying to tell you that I liked you before we hit the water because I thought it would be romantic if we kissed underwater but then you didn't hear me."

"What?" You were sure you looked like you'd seen a ghost. Race liked you? And he was jealous because he thought you liked Finch?

"Oh my god," Race paled, "you don't like me."

"Are you kidding me? It's like, physically impossible to not like you. I mean, seriously, you're you."

"So you do like me?" Smile back in place. You could see the mischievous glint in his eye.

"Don't smile like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like that!" You waved your hand.

Race laughed and grabbed your hand, dragging you back to the stairs.

"What are we doing?"

"Going back down? Did you miss the end part? I wanna kiss you underwater!" Racetrack bit his lip, looking down at you.

"Oh," You nodded.

The people in front of them moved up in line and Race took your hand as you moved up too.

"Hey Race?" You asked, turning to face him.

"Ye-" Race was cut off as you grabbed the side of his face with your free hand, kissing him right on the lips. Race. gladly kissed back, pulling you closer to him.

As you pulled back you smiled at Race's clueless expression.

"I really didn't feel like waiting in line for that."

"And I'm totally okay with it," Race grinned, pulling you into a hug.

This was another old thing I wrote that I recycled to post on here.

#racetrack x reader #racetrack imagine #racetrack fanfic #racetrack fanfiction #racetrack higgins x reader #racetrack higgins fanfic #racetrack higgins imagine #racetrack higgins fanfiction #newsies au #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #newsies imagine #collecting stories imagine #cs discography series

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poppibranchlover · 4 years ago

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Nine Lives, One Fight - The Final Chapter: Part 34

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 33. Now get ready for the grand finale of the story - Part 34!:

A day has passed since Branch had transformed back into a Troll, and life begins to resume normally for him. For now, he was busy doing his usual job; collecting sticks around the village to bring back to his bunker. As he walked past the crowd of Trolls, he greeted them, and they all greeted back, happy to see their beloved village grump doing his business once again.

Branch took a deep breath to admire the fresh air. “Ahhh…what a good day to walk around the village again,” he said, smiling happily.

As he walked, a familiar building with a smiling carrot caught his eye. He took a few moments to recognize it. One glance confirmed that it was Tommy’s carrot restaurant!

Branch gazed down at the restaurant door and saw his best friend cradling a bunch of carrots and surrounded by three baby rabbits. “Wiggles!” he called out to him by his bunny nickname.

Tommy saw him approaching the restaurant and waved back at him “Hi, Branch!” he said.

Branch ran and gave him a big hug. “Hey, man!” he said, shaking hands with him. “I came to see what you’re doing! So your restaurant’s back in business, huh?” He looked up at his newly-reopened carrot restaurant. It was even better than before!

“Yes, of course!” Tommy said, nodding. “I got my job back after the spell reverted, and since I want a place for my kids to stay, I let them in here, all warm and cozy.”

He started petting the little bunnies near his feet. Branch knelt down and patted their tiny heads as well. “It’s so good to see you guys again!” he said. “Now they can live with you forever since you raised them!”

“Yeah, you’re darn truly right!” Tommy agreed in his new accent. He bumped fists with Branch, like they did before when they were animals.

It was a warm and fuzzy moment to be with his best friend he had ever known, until Branch began to think what he wanted to say to him. He sighed as his hands clutched tightly to his bundle of sticks. “You know, after all we’ve been through, I just want to ask you regarding our friendship,” he told Tommy. “Is this okay for you that I’ll be your best friend?”

Tommy laughed. “Oh, you stop being so hard on yourself, kid. You’re being naïve! Times have changed, and we go to our usual business! But of course, we’re friends to the end!”

He put his hand to Branch’s shoulder, smiling. Touched, he smiled back as well, glad to accept this Troll as one of his friends.

A baby rabbit tried reaching for a carrot in Tommy’s arms. “Uh, I could use some help here, kid!” he said.

Branch took a carrot from Tommy’s hand and offered it to the little rabbit, and the critter began chewing on it.

“So, how long you’ve started a business of your own?” Branch asked as he fed the baby rabbit.

“I don’t know...a couple years,” Tommy replied, matching his tone. “I didn’t want to hide in a burrow waiting for my life to change. After you found that magical mushroom, you did helped me along the way.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Branch said, looking over at Tommy. “For your information, you’ve handled this farming business better than I can with my survival skills.”

“Well, you’d be surprised,” Tommy said with a smile. “I guess we know that we’re different yet we can change our own perspectives. It’s nature.”

“Really, huh?” Branch asked, raising his eyebrow. “I never thought of that.” After the baby rabbit finished eating up her carrot, she jumped into his arms.

“Ah, kid. You’re selling yourself short.” Tommy patted his tiny rabbits and offers them more carrots to eat. Then he turned to Branch and began to say what came out in his mind. “I think that you’d make a perfect invention for Poppy’s next Show-and-Tell party tomorrow.”

“What?” Branch asked, shocked. His jaw dropped when he heard these words. “But I thought it’s just one party few days ago! She’s making another one…for me?”

“According to her, it’s dedicated to you!” Tommy said, patting him on the back. “After the incident where we became cat and bunny, I was hoping the Queen would give you another chance to get on stage!”

Branch just stood there, still shocked at these exciting news. He couldn’t believe Poppy is setting up another Show-and-Tell festival, and it would be made specially for him! When he was a cat at the time the festival began, it was a complete disaster. Now that Branch is a Troll again, the party will be a success once more if he had come up there.

“Besides, she did put you back in the list,” Tommy added. “So what do you say, kid? Ready to go up on stage for one last time?”

Branch quickly began to think for a moment, rubbing his chin with his finger. “Hmmmm…so Poppy is making another Show-and-Tell festival and it will be specially made for me,” he said with resolve. “What should I be inventing?”

As a survivalist, Branch is a great expert on inventions. Soon, another brilliant idea had struck him, and his eyes widened with determination.

“Oooh! I know what I can make!” he said proudly. “This time, my effort will be perfect!”

Then he leaned in closer to Tommy and whispered his idea incoherently into his ear. All he was whispering was, “I will make a…and it will be different than before…”

Tommy leaned forward, attempting to listen to every word he was saying. “Huh? What you saying, kid? What is your idea?”

He didn’t understand what this idea had meant, but Branch will be sure that this will settle the entire festival quite well.

Moments later, Branch went back home, with the idea still in his head. With sheer confidence, he whipped out his tools and began to build his newest invention.

Hammering, painting and using as many tools as he can, Branch worked so hard this evening to come up with an invention that will truly surprise the Trolls in the festival. For the finishing touches, he covered his face with a welding mask and used a blowtorch to weld some pieces of metal together.

After he was done, Branch took a few moments to admire his work. He stretched his measuring tape to ensure the perfect size of his invention. He was certain that he will be declared first place as soon as he finished some preparations.

“I won’t let you down this time, Poppy,” he said under his breath, ready for the main event tomorrow.

The next day, the second Show-and-Tell festival had finally begun. After the rest of the Trolls signed up to go on stage already presented their projects, it was now Branch’s turn. Poppy skipped her way to the stage and held up her microphone to address the crowd.

“Drumroll please…” she announced as drums played in the corner. “Here comes the final contestant! Our beloved village grump…Branch!”

As the Trolls cheered, Branch pushed a giant object that is covered with a big red cloth on the stage.

Poppy is surprised at this enormous material he brought out. “Whoa! And it looks like Branch’s project is something HUGE!!!” she gushed. “Something very different entirely!”

Branch took out the red cover, revealing a giant metallic machine! “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…my homemade Fruit-Presser 2.0!” he announced confidently.

The Trolls cheered excitedly as Branch proceeded to explain about his invention. “As you all know, I made this invention as a test to ensure proper nutrition, so any of you can use it whatever you want!”

He pointed out to every part of the Fruit-Presser, explaining how it works. Then he pulled out a cup from his hair. “With this, you can make delicious fruit punches, juices, smoothies and milkshakes out of this machine! Let’s test this baby out!”

Branch started pouring some berries into a funnel and pushed a button on the machine. It began to churn as the berries got sucked into the hole of the funnel. As the fruits were compressed by the mechanical supports of the Fruit-Presser, liquid began to spin around in the tank. Poppy and the audience watched as fruity liquid dispensed out of the machine and poured into Branch’s cup. He pushed a button to turn it off, and started drinking the fruit juice.

After he finished testing his project out, Branch turned to the crowd. “Don’t just sit there and eat lots of sugar,” he said. “Just try it in my heavily-fortified bunker for free!”

Poppy took a moment to admire his project. Then, with an excited squeal, she stepped forward. “Would you look at that? Branch’s speech and project is 10 out of 10 excellent! He is declared a winner!”

Branch was astonished. “What?! Really?!” he asked. “I AM A WINNER?!” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.

Poppy smiled at him and held up a shiny gold medal. “Congratulations, Branch!” she announced. “You deserve a 1st place medal and you get to be the co-leader of Troll Village from now on!”

Branch gasped, overwhelmed with intense excitement. He took the medal from Poppy’s hands and placed it around his neck. “YEAH!!! WOOO-HOOOOO!!!” he cheered happily, accepting the reward while jumping up and pumping the air with a victory fist.

Poppy held his hands, grinning. “We are all so proud of you, Branch!” she told him.

Just then, everyone starts to cheer very loud that Branch is now a first place winner in the Show-and-Tell festival. “YAAAAAAY!!! HOORAY FOR BRANCH AND HIS AMAZING FRUIT-PRESSER PROJECT!!!”

Behind the rest of the crowd, Poppy’s friends are also cheering for him. Even King Peppy and Tommy are joining the fun as well.

“WOO-HOO!!! Way to go, kid!” Tommy whooped from the audience as he congratulated his best friend’s greatest effort.

Branch looked around at the crowd, beaming proudly at them as his medal in his neck shone bright. He had never been this proud before, and now all of the Trolls are cheering for him, recognizing him as their newest hero.

They begin to chant out his name over and over. “BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!!”

Looking over at the happy crowd of chanting Trolls, Branch is even more happier than ever. He was glad that, despite of the magical trouble that had happened, everyone is safely happy and are glad to see that his invention is a complete success.

“It’s good to be me again!” Branch whispered happily to himself.

Later that day, Poppy and Branch went out to their favorite meadow to have a picnic again. This time, they gathered here in celebration of Branch’s Fruit-Presser project becoming a huge success during the Show-and-Tell festival’s next attempt.

Poppy gazed up at the beautiful white clouds in the blue sky, while Branch sat on a beach chair, wearing sunglasses and reading his favorite SuperTroll comic book. They were having a great time together as they ate their snacks, drinking up their favorite drinks and sharing moments with each other.

Poppy sighed happily as she looked up at the fluffy clouds. “I really like open skies!” she said, grinning.

Branch raised his sunglasses up to his hair to look clearly at her. “Yeah, me too,” he replied. “Never would’ve really thought it was fun to set up our picnic here once again.” Then he went back to reading his comic book, posing it like a tanning mirror.

Poppy smiled at him. Then she picked up a scrapbook that laid beside the picnic basket and approached him. “I have something for you,” she told him, nudging his arm. “I should have given it to you before, but I thought you might like this!”

Branch took out his sunglasses and placed his book down on the ground. He got up from the chair and stood up with his arms crossed. “Hah! Okay, my Queen,” he said smugly, displaying a sarcastic look on his face. “What is it you want to show me?”

Poppy held the book up for him to see, opening it to reveal the first page. It depicted miniature felt cutouts of herself and Branch as a cat on a field landscape. The title on top of the picture read:

The Adventures of MR. TICKLE

“TA-DAH!!!” Poppy cried, smiling widely. “A book dedicated to taking care of you as a cat! What do you think?” She stared at Branch, waiting for his reaction.

He looked embarrassed, grabbing his chest and groaning. His cheeks instantly blushed purple. “Ugh. Why did you make this?” he asked feebly.

Poppy grinned as she turned the pages of her new scrapbook. All of the pages she made were about Branch’s adventures that happened a few days ago. “Isn’t this so adorable?” she squealed, admiring every single one of them. “I made this scrapbook to recount my experience on adopting you!” She pointed out to some of them. “Look, see how I fed you milk and cat food, throwing a ball of yarn for you to catch, tickling your furry tummy and tugging at my dress! Look how cute you are!”

Branch interrupted her reading, looking more embarrassed at every second of it. “Uh…that sounds cute, Poppy,” he said nervously. “But I felt like these were all about my adventures.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...” Branch rolled his eyes, trying to forget what he saw, but he couldn’t resist admiring his girlfriend’s creativity. “On second thought, I…probably wanted to save it as a souvenir just in case.”

“That’s great, Branch!” Poppy said. “At least you will remember everything we did together!”

“Uh-huh.” Branch nodded, agreeing with her. “After all, it is one of your hardcore-mastered scrapbooks!” He couldn’t help but smile.

Poppy placed her scrapbook inside her hair as an idea struck in her mind. “Maybe someday, I’ll adopt a real pet of my own when I visit the animal shelter again!” she told him. “I was hoping it was another cat as cute as you!”

Branch looked doubtful. “You sure?” he said to her. “If you’re gonna keep a pet, you will need to take care of it responsibly. Give it a good hygiene, play with it inside and out, cuddle it and don’t let it run away to the dangerous outdoors…like I once did before.” He looked away, remembering his days when he was a little cat.

Poppy patted him on his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Branch!” she said. “Unlike you, it will always stay with me forever!”

“I hope so,” Branch whispered, looking away from her with shame. “And I hope you will do a great job as the queen throughout these years.”

Poppy listened carefully to his sentence. But it suddenly hit her and she gasped, realizing what the problem could be. “Are you okay? I never realized that you feel embarrassed about my new scrapbook.”

Branch shook his head, looking upset. “Uh, no. It’s not about your scrapbook,” he insisted. He hesitated a moment longer before blurting “It’s just I’m feeling tired.”

Poppy grabbed his hands and settled him down onto the picnic blanket. “Oh, come on. You’re doing great!” She quickly thought of a solution that would cheer him up and pulled out their love blanket she used to transform him back into a Troll. “I know what you need.”

Branch moved next to her and let Poppy wrap the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

“I know what you’re doing, Poppy!” he said teasingly.

“Just hold still,” Poppy said with a giggle as she finished wrapping the blanket around him. It wasn’t long before he yawned and laid down on her lap, falling asleep.

Poppy smiled; this comfy blanket had always known best. Without another thought, she placed her hand on Branch’s side and caressed him, just like when she used to pet him in cat form. As she stroked him, he began to purr softly. “Puuuurrrrrr…”

When Poppy heard the sound, she stopped caressing the blanket and stared at him. “Uh, Branch. Are you purring?” she asked, confused as if maybe the spell that turned him into a cat is half-broken.

Branch sat up and opened one eye. “What? No,” he replied. “What does it look like I’m purring? I’m just snoring.” He shrugged to show no problem in him at all. He was still the same old Branch as always.

Poppy ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. She didn’t know what to make of his silly sleeping noises anyway, so she just went with a general compliment. “That’s okay! I prefer you snoring anyway!”

“Well, that’s just very simple in my opinion.” Branch stood up and playfully swished his blanket like a superhero cape. “I always made the best impressions!”

He giggled, and Poppy did the same. Then he drew closer to her and said in a sweet voice, “Meow!”

Poppy gasped at the sound of his voice, suddenly worried.

But then, Branch spoke to her in a normal voice, “Just kidding!”

He and Poppy both laugh out with joy, relieved that it was only one of the blue Troll’s mischievous pranks. She reached out her arms and hugged him. “Not bad for an adorable sarcastic mopi!” she cried out with a laugh. Then she kissed him on his cheek again. That is what Branch usually loved best about his experiences with her. He always loved to be there for her all the time.

“I love you, my sweet kitty!” Poppy said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Grinning, Branch wrapped his arms around her, returning her embrace. He was so proud that he is able to spend a lot of time with her every day. If it weren’t for him sticking along with Poppy and listening to her warnings, he would still be a cat, but he was glad to be his regular self again. The two Trolls both looked lovingly at each other as the sun began to set, making the meadow around them even more beautiful than ever. Poppy couldn’t resist her smile as she brought her lips closer to Branch’s to kiss him under the sunlight.

Deep in his heart, Branch knew this is exactly where he was meant to be...totally free from his nine lives.

Yep, I’m actually crying. I can’t believe it’s the end! 😭😭😭

I passed a few months on that fanfiction, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone for reading this story. I remember the day I saw Eva’s drawing of Branch as a cat in a posting thread about Trolls as animals, and taking inspiration from that drawing, I never thought I can try making a story about it. And if I did work on this fanfic, it’s not only because I made up this idea for myself, it’s my self-motivation that made me do it because I would like to make the result of this story to look cute and amazing for everyone to see.

So thank you, and enjoy the end of Nine Lives, One Fight. It’s been a long and fantastic journey to make this story with any of you reblogging and liking all the parts. You are all great people! 🥰😊

#dreamworks trolls #poppy and branch #broppy #poppy #branch #cat branch story #nine lives one fight #fanfiction #the final chapter #happy ending #tommy #tommy the troll

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