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piecksz · 3 years

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starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket. “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot au #eren yaeger smut #attack on titan au #eren yeager au

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god-fucking-dammit-mizutani · 5 years

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Title: Stars Above You (WIP) Words: ~2800 Part: 1/2 Notes: So it’s the 20th anniversary since 8/1/1999 and I was besieged by the spirit of creativity to finish out at least the start of this fic to post in it’s honor because I didn’t get it in for Taishirou week like I meant to lmaoo it wraps up nicely enough, I think, as a piece, but I will be adding more to this in hopefully the near future and will add it to ao3 at that point, but also this project of mine started out like nine or more years ago and it is always mingling in the back of my mind, so it feels. Right, I guess. I hope it’s okay lol

Summary: It’s a symbol -- a promise -- of a future together.

~*~

Just shortly before a nuclear missile landed in the Odaiba bay, Mrs. Yagami had boasted a full collection of constantly clattering wind chimes. Koushirou would sometimes spend days too cold to play outside lounging along the Yagami apartment floor with Taichi, tracing his eyes along their silhouettes through the drawn curtains like other children watched clouds. They made him think of galactic squid, imagined them phasing in through the balcony above to dangle their tentacles in the breeze. In his own way, Koushirou could understand why she kept them.

Until the wind blew, and so with it, the tempers of every person in earshot. When they met a rather mysterious, very untimely end, only one person ever missed them.

Sora remembers them, too.

Koushirou suspects so from the face she pulls at the sound of her spoon clinking against the crystal of her near-empty fountain glass. Koushirou feels his chest bubble with a bitter nostalgia to hear it. After that summer, the sound had only conjured in him the sense of fleeting time; a Pavlovian sickness that stains his tongue with the taste of Oolong.

The chiming sounds louder than it should through the midnight hours of the local diner. Across the room from them, the wait staff huddle over a table, prepping for the inevitable rush once the bars take their last call. The clatter of silverware and hushed conversations between them is the only consistent noise when conversations lull between him and Sora.

Excepting, of course, every invariable swear wafting up from the floor of the entrance.

“Another goddamn spider,” Taichi's voice grumbles. Yamato's amused snort follows.

Sora gives a cursory look over her shoulder. Her grin when it rounds back on Koushirou feels, oddly, conspiratorial. Hands cupped under her chin, accented by the curve of her auburn bob, she looks absolutely storybook charming.

“It's a good thing we're in love with those losers,” she tells him, grinning. Which, decidedly, is a very uncharming thing to say. Specifically for as far as her voice carries.

Koushirou chokes on her presumptions, hiding the hiccup by grabbing for his neglected glass of water. It splashes on the table and parts of his shirt when he lifts it. The waitress had been heavy handed when she last came by to fill his still half unused glass. “Precisely who are you implying I'm--?”

Sora beams at him.

Over her shoulder, Koushirou catches Taichi's eyes just before the man resets his sights back on the rows of Gashapon machines, fingers curling in request until Yamato relinquishes yet another coin. Under the harsh, spherule pendant lamps, Koushirou reads the glint of something mirthful, impish in his gaze.

He is not the only one who sees it. The manager spends interminable periods of time by the register, tapping through papers and taking stock again and again. He wonders how often grown men buy children's trinkets as a rouse for robbery. Koushirou hides the curl of his amused smile under the curve of his fingers at the thought. Sora, not privvy to his internal thoughts, smiles with a similar amusement back at him.

Yamato makes his way back to the table first, alone save for the plastic capsules balanced dangerously against his chest. Sora scoots over in the booth to allow him to sit next to her, but Yamato only offers his bulbous collection to her with a shrug.

“Accept these tokens as a gift of my affection, my love!” he proclaims, voice high and pious. The thought of Yamato, flaxen haired and pale skin atop a white steed feels poignant in Koushirou's mind.

Sora eyes the mountain of multicolored plastic bubbles, amusement wrinkling her brow and lifting a side of her mouth until a single dimple emerges. “Be gone, sir,” she returns, whipping her head in the opposite direction. “Your measly trinkets bore me!”

They both shriek when Yamato, instead, releases his hoard upon them, little plastic bubbles hopping about the table.

The restaurant stills around them.

"I sure hope you're going to pick those up," Sora stage whispers. She squashes her hands together, mouthing an apology to the employees until they turn back to their work.

"Of course," Yamato snorts. "I wasn't raised in a barn." In a good faith effort, he leans down and grabs a few off the floor at his feet, catching them in empty glasses still scattering their table.

Koushirou flinches, mostly on instinct than from any pain, when a few stray capsules rain off the table and plop against his thighs. "Do you still think it's a positive attribute, Sora?"

She furrows her brows at him for a moment until she catches on, her lips quirking into a secretive, rueful little smile. "I meant it more for their sake," she clarifies.

“Do I want to know?” Yamato frowns at them. The fabric of his jeans squeak on the taut vinyl material when he slides in next to Sora finally.

Sora smirks at him and very pointedly steals a fry from the neglected tray in front of him. “Nope.” She makes a show of biting down on half of it to Yamato's scandalized expression.

“Rude,” he says. “Stealing a man's fries in front of him is low, Sora.” He picks several up and crunches down on them at once. Koushirou grimaces, wondering how cold the fries must have grown since they were first brought out.

“Should I have done it behind your back?” Sora giggles. She laughs harder when Yamato intercepts her fingers from taking any more, lacing his own through hers.

Koushirou turns from the couple then, cheeks heating over the flirtatious display. There's a half empty basket of fries on the table beside his, and guiltily, he wonders how Taichi would react if Koushirou tested his theory on how cold the fries really taste. He pats the empty space on the bench next to him and frowns.

The front end of the diner is quiet, vacant. When Koushirou glances around he notices the manager has snuck back into the kitchen, his salt and pepper hair visible over the counter window. The waitstaff have gone back to their work; when he meets the eye of their waitress he has to shake his head at her unspoken question if they need her.

“Where's Taichi?” He asks when his survey of the restaurant yields no results.

He turns back to see Sora pop her head up and away from Yamato's shoulder, eyes hawking the area for their fourth member. “Yeah, where did he go?”

Yamato sops up the remnants of Sora's shake with a swipe of his fries over the rim of her glass. “Getting ready,” he says. He pops his chocolate soaked fry into his mouth, grinning with satisfaction as Sora eyes him with mock disgust.

“Ready for what, precisely?” Koushirou asks.

He sees it. The conspiratorial little glint of something sparking in Sora's eyes, lips crawling upward again. It catches in Yamato's expression when he meets her gaze, the two of them sharing a jubilous energy that Koushirou cannot fathom.

But Koushirou's patience barely wanes before the bathroom door slams open across the diner, catching the attention of their group and the adjacent wait staff. The manager rushes out from the kitchen to purvey the scene and they all stare at none other than Taichi, his hair slicked as far back as water alone will tame it down.

"Here he comes," Yamato says, sounding like a host before his audience. "Taichi Yagami, rocking the drowned rat chic look. Super popular this year."

Koushirou snorts when Sora gives him a soft whap on the arm. He looks back down the long hallway at Taichi, who has taken to waving at every booth as he descends on the group. His pageantry is well rewarded with attention. Their waitress waves back when Taichi passes by their set up station. His shadow is long under the lights, falling across Koushirou where he come to stand before him.

"Your hair--" Koushirou starts, instinctively starting up to his feet to let Taichi take back his place at the far end of their shared booth, but the rest of his sentence is swallowed by surprise when Taichi drops before him instead.

One knee bent to the linoleum, he reaches into the pocket of his pea coat and Koushirou, rightfully, feels betrayed when Taichi lifts yet another capsule up to him.

"Koushirou Izumi," he says, timbre reminiscent of a Shakespearean actor. "Please accept this token as a symbol of my affection."

"You line thief," Yamato accuses him, pointing a soggy fry at the culprit. Taichi crinkles his nose in the blonde's direction, and Koushirou feels vaguely proud that he has matured beyond sticking his tongue out.

Koushirou narrows his eyes at the offending bauble. “Is this what you squandered all that time for?” But he cannot stop his own lips from quirking up on their own as he plops back into the booth. It lets out a soft puff, like a resigned sigh, sounding off through a hole in the seat cushion that had been just barely tapped down to keep the stuffing inside. Tentatively, Koushirou plucks the bobble from his pronged grip.

Taichi beams up at him, watches expectantly as Koushirou attempts to remove the pink little cap from the top. His expression is not dampered even when Koushirou's grip proves useless to separate the two pieces.

"When I saw it," Taichi says, still grinning, "I knew I wanted to get it for you."

Silverware clatters again. It's an orchestra lending itself to the affair, but the importance of it all falls flat on Koushirou who has lost in his bout of strength against the gashapon capsule. Koushirou’s own heart feels like it could be playing the drum, for the tempo in his chest is thunderous. He could blame the slide of his fingers on the plastic surface of the capsule case, but Koushirou knows this is only half the truth.

Yamato reaches across the table, motioning for Koushirou to hand him the present instead. It does not yield immediately to him, and Yamato digs into his forgotten coat for keys. The grooves scrape along the plastic sphere, wedging underneath the lip of the lid. Next to him, Sora beams back at Koushirou when their eyes meet, her face soft and only vaguely apologetic. Eventually the edge gives way with a soft pop and Taichi intercepts the return, holds it up on three fingers in front of Koushirou like an impromptu pedestal. Yamato’s keys have left their teeth marks indented into the side, white blemishes standing out starkly against the cloudy, gray clearness of the rest of it. He peers over the lip and frowns.

Inside the capsule’s plastic basket is a small, circular item and Koushirou knows that it is a joke, that there is no meaning beyond a simple laugh and a simple, logical connection that had spun the plan into action. But even if Koushirou knows, it is not logic that his heart works on.

“Taichi,” Koushirou snorts. It sounds as hollow as Sora’s now cleaned out milkshake glass. He pulls the ring from it’s home, rolls it around between careful fingers to investigate it closer. A tiny, little ladybug of casted in resin and cheap paint sitting atop an even cheaper adjustable sphere. Beady, poorly drawn on eyes stare up at him. “Rings carry a connotation, you know?”

Which is, honestly, a joke, too. A bad joke, but one nonetheless.

Taichi folds the capsule that had contained the ring back into his coat pocket and then beckons Koushirou to return the present. There is a small, petty part of Koushirou that almost refuses to relinquish it. It had, after all, been meant for him. I wanted to get it for you, Taichi had said, and that weight leaves him dizzy.

When he does surrender it, Taichi puts up the palm of his other hand.

“Take it,” Sora stage whispers across the table. It might as well be a scream, because the wait staff hear and turn to watch the spectacle again. Koushirou feels his face heating as he takes the proffered hand.

“Taichi,” he grits out, quietly, but he stops from any admonishment when he meets Taichi’s eyes. That same glint of mirth is there, undiminished since Koushirou had first spotted it, shining with the road lights through the window to Koushirou’s back, but it feels like there’s more and it quiets his tongue.

“Koushirou Izumi,” Taichi says again, puffing up his chest, back straight. Koushirou hears Yamato hiss as Sora delves out a quick apology. When he glances at them, she’s rubbing his hand with the one not currently holding Yamato’s, smiling sheepishly up at him. Koushirou looks back at Taichi and breathes in, tightly through the little spaces that the butterflies in his chest allow him. “You are my best friend. I’m under strict orders to mention that Yamato and Sora are runner ups.”

“Thank you,” Yamato says, pleased sounding.

“Sora is clearly in second, though.”

“Fair,” Yamato decides.

“Anyway,” Taichi says. This time his grin is definitely tinged in embarrassment, the reddening of his cheeks enough evidence. It’s endearing. “I hope that I’m yours?”

Koushirou nods along. He can feel his lips curling, but he isn’t quite sure that it comes off as a smile. He’s not really sure of anything. He could be dying and this time there are no windchimes to send him on his way.

“And I want to be your best friend forever,” Taichi adds in, slowly. “So what I’m going to ask, well, I hope that doesn’t change anything between us. Actually,” Taichi laughs, rubbing at the back of his head. “I hope it changes a lot. But in a good way,” he clarifies. Koushirou watches, not quite sure who the confirmations are supposed to be directed towards: himself or Koushirou.

Taichi sucks in a deep breath, like he’s about to go cliff diving off a waterfall and Koushirou understands. “I really, really like you. I’ve been afraid for a super long time that if I acted on it or told you, that maybe I’d somehow chase you off. But it’s not fair to hide this from you.” His cheeks are a brilliant red now and his eyes moves further down Koushirou’s face, settling somewhere along his jawbone. Where their hands are connected feels warm and comfortable. Koushirou wouldn’t mind if he didn’t let go, ever. “And well, it feels like it would be a new adventure and we’ve got a great track record with those, you and me.”

“Taichi,” Sora whispers in an ushering tone. He looks astonished for a moment, as if he had forgotten where they were, that others were in the audience. Koushirou had.

Taichi takes another long breath in and finally sets his grin up with more confidence when he asks Koushirou, “Whaddya say? Will you go out with me, Koushirou?”

Pinched still between Taichi’s fingers, the ladybug stares up at Koushirou expectantly. Something clinks in the background and for once, it does not feel bitter or terrifying, but it does seize his chest, reminds him of the clicking clock and everything that has laid stagnant in fear.

“Most people would simply just ask for a date,” Koushirou manages to say. He breathes out. “But I suppose it was a display worthy of a yes.” He thinks he hears a round of applause, but Koushirou keeps his head down, doesn’t dare to look up. It is only partially from self-consciously, and mostly because Taichi’s smile is so efferesent, Koushirou thinks it could light all of Odaiba for the rest of their lives. He’s not sure his is any less exuberant.

He pushes the ring up and onto Koushirou’s ring finger. Made for children with tinier hands, it barely passes the first knuckle before they have to tinker with the adjustable strap, but soon it settles to the base of his finger, rather nicely and hideously. “When have I ever been most people?”

The manager waits for them at the register. His stern expression speaks to his lack of amusement experienced from their shenanigans, but Koushirou cannot even find a sense of shame this time. It feels like someone has replaced his heart with a spectacle of sparklers, a sky filled with fireworks. Taichi squeezes his hand, but he thinks that only makes it worse.

When they leave, for the last time, Yamato deposits a single capsule into the hand of every employee unfortunate to pass them. He makes sure to pat the manager on the shoulder on his way out, as if parting from a dear friend in a respectable manner. He bestows the man with a rubber bouncy ball. Koushirou knows this only because it follows Yamato out the door a beat later. Sora waits for him to finish, sitting on the cement stoop and blinking up at him slowly when he rushes down to meet their group.

He returns the look. "Gifts are polite," Yamato says, indignantly. His arms are still plenty full of toys, like the santa of rock stars. "I told you I wasn't raised in a barn."

The rubber ball plummets down each step slowly, poking around Yamato's shoe and finally plopping into Sora's lap. She looks down at it, pressing her lips together. "Debatable."

#taishirou #taishiro #otp #odaiba day #digimon #koushirou izumi #taichi yagami #there's also some Sorato !#Fake proposals #if that isn't your things #it's mostly humor and romance and slice of lifey #Sparkle garbage #also I'm aware the bay is technically Tokyo bay but I'm ??? trying to convey it was the bay of Odabia I guess?? Idk it felt fitting to me??

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erenjaegur · 6 years

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Snk Positivity Day 6: Love Your Series

Im gonna put this under a read more because I cant think of express my feelings on something without turning it into a full length incoherent ass essay so!!

I’ve been in the snk fandom since I was like 12 lol - Im 16 now so that’s like, five years?? I can still remember like I’d see a lot of gifs n stuff of it going around tumblr and for some reason I just really felt I wouldn’t like it like I had smthing lowkey against it?? But then I decided to watch it one day, n i still remember, I was just chilling on my laptop watching it in the sitting room, my family around me and stuff and goddd it was soo good... but it made me tear up... n bITCH I was NOT! about to cry in the sitting room around my family. I was not! prepared for that. That night I stayed up till possibly 1 or 3am just watching it, I must’ve gotten to like around episode 6 I think? I loved it so much I rlly fell in love, I finished it all in just three days.... three days of which I also went to school and stuff and had to go to my friends party.... bitch i was pissed i didnt even like that person....i just wanted to finish snk lmaooo 😭

Im pretty sure Id spend sm of my time invested in snk and looking through snk tumblrs and stuff and other fandom stuff of it, I loved it so much!!! like!! thats all I did and even then I was still forcing my friends to read/watch it. I was really cringey in 6th class wow lmaoo I would literally go around during break with the snk manga like xD!!! eren is my baby!!! saying shit like that yikes.... bitch first of all hes 4 years older than you...your literally 12.....

Especially then, when I was younger it brought me sm happiness like when little me was going through shit then little insecure young me, you know how people say u use entertainment to escape or whatever, a distraction, idk.... like that was rlly it man idk ho to describe it without sounding weird i swear it was like my main source of happiness omg lol

Almost always, its very rare like I’ll be watching a movie, listening to music, anything like that just consuming some piece of media or literally just like. living my life and I see something and im like. omg snk au in which.... or I just somehow relate it back to snk or some of its characters lol. Like even when I was on holiday in Venice last year I was literally like thinking of a fanfic of like, the 104th on holidays in Venice like how wholesome...

Like I really do love snk I think about it every day without fail, and I honestly think I’ll always always always love it, and even if I don’t, it’s always gonna have a special place in my heart. Like, I liked it since i was literally 12 years old and it helped my through shit and I just have so much good memories associated with it. I honestly rlly do picture myself being like a 40 year old woman and still loving snk but like the fandom is dead or something... 😭 I rlly hope that never happens.....bc that will happen my 40 year old ass will b like boiis whens season 10 coming out ? Like I really hope snk is one of those series that kind of just lives on forever, or atleast for a very long time - Like Harry Potter for example

Okay, all that was really personal and I’d be surprised if anyone is reading this anyway, but I love looking back on it and talking about snk like this, I love it :) Butttt, getting to one of the reasons why I think I might love snk so much, and I mean, I can’t really pin it down why I love it so much, I dont think anyone can pin down EXACTLY why they love something, especially a series, but I think one thing I really like, and it becomes really apparent when I look at other series is like, they have a good balance between male and female characters if that makes sense. Like theres not way more men in the show than there is women, like how it is in some series or like, theres not way more men in the show than there is women, and the female characters in the show aren’t just like background characters pretty much, and they’re all good fleshed out and developed characters n shit. I think people have talked about this before but yeah.. And the female characters aren’t sexualised or anything like that and like, theres basically little to no fanservice at all which is nice. Supereyepatchwolf said something about it in his video about snk, how it can appeal to everyone because anyone of any age and gender and such can be in the survey corps n stuff... :P

And the characters just in general of course :) I honestly think the characters is one of snks strongest points, like... im not about to do a full on character analysis on anyone here lol but they’re just so amazing. Like I think on first glance it can probably be easy for people to sort most of them into like a trope or something or just write them off as cliche - mostly eren is victim to this bc people are like typical shounen boy !!! but like. you know anyway. I wish I was better at expressing my feelings and thoughts lol. Like god idk i feel like its so easy for someone who idk might just be a casual fan or smthing to just kinda see the characters on their more surface level without seeing how much depth they actually have - and I feel like that could also easily happen with anime only ppl. Like snk really does have so much great n complex n developed characters, especiallyyy now with the timeskip, more so now than ever. Like you know when you love something so much that you cant just pin point one thing about it... because its like.... everything about it i love n everything within it works to like compliment everything in it if that makes sense u get me?? like i cant just pinpoint ONE THING its the whole thing.... why i love snk? *directs u to link of readsnkmanga.com* or something lol

as for the characters themselves, obviously u can tell, with my url, u can take a guess at who my favourite is :) since the timeskip, i dont like him as much - not that i dislike him, i could literally never - but timeskip eren is basically a whole new person - and im not saying that in a bitter tone or anything, if anything its cool and i appreciate it and i understand why eren is like this now, all the shit hes been through- stuff so singular that barely anyone else would be able to understand, no one, if anything. So i understand why hes like this, and as i said earlier, this’ one of snks strong points its complex and rlly developed characters... The things I admired about Eren is just like... his good and bad, everything. How passionate he is, how he wears his heart on his sleeve - that of which being his most notable quality imo, and he expresses himself in an unapologetic manner like.... the courtroom scene... he rlly shouted that in front of all those people... how headstrong, stubborn and impulsive he is. I relate to Eren alot, thats part of the reason why I love him so much because I think I can kinda see myself in him.. but on the same hand, I think it’s also because he possesses a lot of traits I admire. Eren never backs down even when the whole world seems to be against him. He holds on firmly to what he believes in and never gives in, even when literal guns or canons are being pointed towards him. He’s full of determination and will power and he knows what he wants, and he’s also not afraid to express his opinion, even if he knows that he’ll be laughed at or be largely disagreed with.. And I admire his impulsiveness too. Those are all things I admire and other things I didn’t mention.. like me, I’m a very non confrontational person, I always feel things out before getting to it, and even then a lot of the time I just don’t at all. I might second guess my emotions and feelings when it comes to relationships with people especially, and I can a lot of the time stifle or keep quiet about my own beliefs, not completely keeping quiet, but not speaking them out as firmly as I believe them in my own mind, yielding? more I guess, if people disagree with me, I might step down a little - Which isn’t a completely bad thing, it’s good to be openminded and to see other sides, but when it’s coming from a place of embarassment or insecurity, not so much. So I really admire those traits in Eren :) I relate to him a lot, but I also know that in a lot of ways too, we are veryy different. I’ve even thought before, if I knew someone like Eren irl would I even like them lol?? Who knows lol. But as a character, I love him :) My other two favourtie characters after Eren, Levi and Jean, I won’t go into them as much as I did Eren but with them, and not just that, all of the other reasons they’re my faves.. I have like more of a ‘crush’ on them lmaooo like with them i could read so much /reader fanfic lol... but even though Eren is my #1 I could nEVER...god NO lol. And I think thats also down to the fact, as I’ve been saying I seen myself in Eren... rather than the other way around :))))))))

Like god there have been so many times I’ve laughed, cried at stuff in this fandom, made good memories as a result of it irl too... bullied my friends into watching it.... Like I have nothing but good memories. I really can’t express enough how positively snk has impacted my life like I genuinely can’t, it’d be impossible.. I seriously love it :) I’ve made friends bc of it, gotten closer to friends bc of our mutual interest in it, stuff like that...:) And even if those things didn’t happen, I’d still love the series and its fandom itself. :) I seriously can’t thank enough, the ppl that contribute to this fandom, I really can’t. Everything, and everyone to small and big creators, thank you so much. Well known and lesser known creators, like just everything and everyone, seriously. Everyone is just why this fandom is so great and!! Like I just think how lucky am I to have smthing like snk have such a big fandom and stuff and so many great people in it. Like y’know when you see your favourite fanfic update, you see your favourite artist has put out smthing new, even just see a funny snk text post or something, it all can really brighten and even make your day, and its so good :) There are so many amazing creators in this fandom, fanfics that are honestly better than published books I’ve read - like seriously, some of this stuff seriously deserves to e published or something!! And the fact that so much of these creators are putting their work out there and sharing with us for free, is just so great, and I’ll never not be grateful for it :)

Like seriously, returning back to when I was like 12-14, some days back then when I was younger it really felt like y’know the only things I could take comfort in was this series and its characters and stuff yknow.... and maybe im just being and emo teen but im getting kinda emotional thinking about it just now :’) Like seriously... I feel like im maybe being too much in this post lol but seriously this series means a lot to me.. as I said, I can honestly really picture myself being like 40 and still rlly loving snk like no matter what, whatever happens, wherever the series goes, whatever the hell, it’ll always hold a special place in my heart, because its helped me through a lot, a lot of bad days, I have nothing but good memories associated with it, made friends, seen some of the most beautiful art and read rlly great writing!! Just like yeah. Thank u Isayama and this entire fandom.....

and I was gonna peace out but I also want to appreciate and throw some love @ Isayamas art and art style. Obviously, Isayama was a bit infamous in the earlier days for his art not looking so great (Which also is amazing bc like a manga with not so great art like his in the beginning... grew to become so BIG!! like who would’ve thought) - even so the character design and stuff was all really good?? Like I also think thats a strong point he has too!! And all those years of practicing really shows, because damn!! look at his art now!! It’s really damn nice and im not just saying that lol :P

Anyway!! :) Thats all lol

#idk what this is its just a jumbled ass incoherent string of thought sorry!!#snkpositivityweek #i feel like i should be embarassed jst by the sheer lenght of this n i lowkey am but like?

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