#but she didn’t bother running against you because you’re so popular

[maddie-grove]

So I was watching Beastly and it occurred to me that it would be interesting to make a non-supernatural modern-day version of “Beauty and the Beast” where the Belle figure and the witch figure are one and the same.

She’s a poor, weird girl who has a crush on the Prince equivalent, and he finds her endearing enough that he’s a little bit friendly/flirty when they’re alone, and it builds her hopes up. But he’s too embarrassed to act the same way in front of his popular friends, so ultimately he blows her off in a snotty, hurtful way. He doesn’t do anything over-the-top cruel, like call her names or deliberately publicly humiliate her, but it goes beyond just politely icing her out. She’s understandably angry and sad, and she goes home and puts a “curse” on him (she found it on the internet and it’s some goofy mall goth shit but the feelings are real).

That same night, he gets into a car accident, and it’s just stupid, random happenstance—he isn’t doing anything particularly foolish, like driving drunk—and he’s seriously disfigured. And (as in Beastly) his family is shallow and emotionally avoidant, and he also doesn’t want to see anyone from his old life, so he ends up dropping out of school and taking classes at home and generally not going out.

But the Belle-Witch girl comes back into his life. He feels guilty about having hurt her feelings and doesn’t want her to feel bad for him, so he lies about his identity. She knows who he is but thinks he doesn’t remember her (they only interacted briefly, a lot of stuff has happened, and maybe she’s changed her look somewhat). She feels guilty about having wished this fate on him, because it’s not satisfying to see it actually happening, just horrible. And eventually the mutual deception has to unravel and there’s probably some kind of external obstacle as well. He does not turn un-disfigured, and also she is not conventionally hot and she dresses weird and that never really changes. But they fall in love.

[loving-daisy]

Where’s the Trophy? | Draco Malfoy x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

Summary: Nothing would ever make Draco happy than holding a trophy in his arms. Wait, are we talking about the Quidditch World Cup or a certain Y/N Weasley?

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s song — “The Alchemy”

Author’s Note: I had this in the drafts ever since the 2024 Paris Olympics when edits of players running towards their s/o’s became viral :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Draco Malfoy wasn’t the type to shy away from a challenge, and Y/N Weasley was certainly proving to be one.

Draco had noticed her immediately when they first crossed paths at Theodore Nott’s engagement party.

Despite being a Weasley, Y/N became good friends with Theodore after meeting her at some workshop for fellow print editors. Y/N works at The Alchemy, the bestselling wizarding lifestyle magazine of all time.

Every single wizard and witch keep their hands on The Alchemy for it covers basically everything you need to know about the wizarding world from the latest news and trends, ministry politics and foreign affairs, celebrity gossip, and even covering up to the current viral beauty and fashion world. To be featured in the magazine is to be popular and Theodore’s bride-to-be knew that their engagement was to be publicized by none other than The Alchemy.

Y/N was leaning against the wall with an almost bored expression, her sharp eyes scanning the room, never lingering on anything or anyone for too long. Not even him, Draco Malfoy, England’s seeker, king of hearts, and player of all players.

Most women would have been entranced by his presence, drawn in by his reputation and charm. But Y/N? She’d barely acknowledged his arrival, too busy ranting with Theo about the piled up work for all print distributors with the rising tensions of the Quidditch world cup .

Draco had made his way over, cocking an eyebrow as he interrupted their conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said smoothly, glancing at Theo, who gave him an exasperated look.

Before Draco was able to continue what he was about to say, he was immediately interrupted by the girl, who didn’t even look up from her drink.

“And yet, you’re interrupting,” she replied dryly, her voice cool but with just enough of a bite to show she wasn’t amused.

Draco smirked, leaning against the wall beside her. “Well, Darling, what better way to write about Quidditch than with a Quidditch player himself? Not to mention, me, the star of every game.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re really not as charming as you think you are, Malfoy.”

“I beg to differ,” he said, leaning in slightly, his tone lowering with that touch of arrogance she had come to expect. “Most women find me quite irresistible.”

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. "Good thing I’m not most women,” she replied, turning her attention back to Theodore, clearly uninterested in his game.

Usually, Draco wouldn’t even bother wasting a breath on a Weasley but Y/N had dismissed him all too quickly. She had dismissed him, England’s heartthrob, as if she wasn’t interested in his good looks, or fame, or even popularity.

Salazar, she wasn’t even interested in writing about him for The Alchemy.

Draco Malfoy was not accustomed to chasing anything—or anyone. He had always been pursued, whether for his status, wealth, or simply because of his name. Relationships had always been transactional for him: a game of give and take, of power dynamics that were easy to navigate. But Y/N Weasley… Y/N was different.

At first, Draco had been intrigued. She was sharp, unyielding, and completely immune to his usual charms.

Where most women melted under his attention, Y/N only rolled her eyes or gave him a withering look as though he was just another distraction to be dealt with. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had dismissed him so thoroughly, and it had started to feel like a challenge for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

But it wasn’t just that.

The more she resisted, the more he wanted to see if he could break through that impenetrable wall she’d built around herself.

Over time, his interest became more than a game. She challenged him, called him out on his arrogance, and refused to let him get away with half-truths or polished façades. For the first time in years, Draco felt like someone saw him for who he really was—and she didn’t flinch.

Y/N Weasley wasn’t having it.

“You’re wasting your time,” she told him one evening at a café in London, where they’d both ended up after a mutual friend’s birthday gathering.

“Am I?” he asked, his smirk tilting into something softer.

“Yes,” she said firmly, taking a sip of her wine. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to happen.”

Draco only shrugged, undeterred. ‘We’ll see.’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Still writing about why men are hopeless, Weasley?”

Y/N looked up to find Draco Malfoy standing there, effortlessly stylish in a tailored coat and scarf that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. His silver-blond hair was tousled in that maddeningly perfect way, and he wore a smirk that could charm or infuriate—depending on his mood.

“I wasn’t,” she replied smoothly, “but if you’re volunteering as a case study, I can adjust.”

Draco chuckled, pulling out the chair across from her without waiting for an invitation. “I’m sure your readers would love to hear about my charms. But I’d much rather give you a private demonstration.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, feigning disinterest even as her cheeks flushed. “Is this your idea of flirting, Malfoy? Because it’s not exactly groundbreaking.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and fixing her with his piercing gray eyes. “Oh, I can be groundbreaking when I want to be. But I’ll save that for when you admit you’re intrigued.”

“Who says I’m intrigued?” she countered, her quill tapping against the table's edge.

Draco smirked. “That little blush on your cheeks does.”

Y/N huffed, pretending to go back to her notes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, sliding a piece of parchment across the table with his contact information scrawled in elegant script, “you haven’t asked me to leave.”

With a wink, he stood and adjusted his scarf. “I’ll leave you to your article, Weasley. Don’t work too hard. You’ll need your energy—for when I take you to dinner.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N had no idea why she was even scrolling through the gossip pages of Witch Weekly. It was supposed to be a lazy Monday morning—tea in hand, parchment in front of her—but instead, her attention had been snagged by a headline she couldn’t ignore.

England's Star Seeker Draco Malfoy Spotted with Mystery Blonde at Exclusive London Bistro!

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the accompanying photograph.

There he was, Draco Malfoy, sitting across from a gorgeous woman who was laughing at something he’d said. His trademark smirk was firmly in place, the same smirk he’d aimed at her not two days ago.

Y/N snapped the magazine shut, annoyed at herself.

What did it matter who Draco Malfoy spent his evenings with? He was arrogant, self-absorbed, and entirely too charming for his own good.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

But the universe wasn’t done testing her resolve.

Later that week, as she walked through Diagon Alley, the sight of Draco leaning against a storefront with another witch at his side stopped her in her tracks. This one had dark hair and a melodic laugh that carried across the street. Draco held her hand, his expression warm and relaxed in a way Y/N hadn’t seen before.

She quickly ducked into a nearby shop, her heart racing. Malfoy was a flirt, and she wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t have other women hanging on his every word.

The next morning, another headline greeted her in the Prophet: Malfoy’s Match: Which Lucky Lady Has His Heart?

Y/N threw the paper aside with a frustrated groan.

Over the past months, Draco had been bothering her. The last thing she wanted was to have him bothering her even when he’s not here. The girl swore to herself that she won’t read gossip columns ever again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N was sitting in her cozy office at The Alchemy, the latest drafts of her article spread across her desk, when her fireplace flared green. She was startled as Draco Malfoy’s face appeared in the flames, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Busy, Weasley?” he drawled.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Malfoy, have you ever heard of knocking? Oh, wait—no doors on fireplaces. How silly of me to expect manners.”

He chuckled. “If I knocked, you’d have an excuse to ignore me. This way, you’re forced to hear me out.”

“Lucky me,” she replied dryly, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”

Draco’s smirk softened, turning into something almost—dare she say it?—earnest. “I’ve got a match in two weeks. England versus France. It’s a big one. It’s the finals.”

“And?” Y/N prompted, arching an eyebrow.

“And,” he continued, “I thought you might like to come. Watch me fly circles around the other Seeker. Cheer me on. That sort of thing.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You mean sit in a crowd of rabid Quidditch fans and feed your already oversized ego?”

“Precisely,” he replied, undeterred. “I’ve reserved a seat in the VIP box just for you. You’ll have the best view in the house.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “Why me?”

“Because,” he said smoothly, “you’re the only person I know who can’t stand my ego—and yet, you’ll be impressed anyway. Admit it, Weasley. You’re curious.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “My answer is no.”

Draco grinned, pointing a finger in her direction. “I see what this is. This is you trying not to fall in love with me when you see me in action.” He concluded, earning a groan from the Weasley girl.

“There are a lot of other witches out there already in love with you, Malfoy. Surely, you don’t need another one.” She asserted, shaking her head at the Quidditch star.

Draco blinked, his smirk faltering for a split second before he recovered. “Ah. You’ve been reading the gossip columns, I see.”

“Hard to avoid when your face is splashed across every page,” she shot back. “Or when I see you holding hands with someone else in Diagon Alley.”

“Jealous, then,” he said, his smirk returning, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy,” Y/N snapped. “But if you’re going to act like you’re interested in me, maybe try not to make it so obvious that you’re playing the field.”

Draco exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’m playing you?”

“I think I don’t like feeling like an idiot,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. “So if this is some kind of game to you, just say so, and I’ll be on my way. Or better yet, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

For once, Draco didn’t have a quick retort. He stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that caught her off guard.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice lower now, almost tentative. “Those other witches? They don’t mean anything. The dinners, the pictures—they’re just...part of the circus that comes with this life.”

She arched an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “And me?”

Draco hesitated, then met her gaze head-on. “You’re different. You’re not part of the circus. That’s why I keep coming back, even when you’re determined to push me away or even make me work for it.”

Y/N wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe those gray eyes weren’t just feeding her another line. But trust didn’t come easily. Not with someone like him.

“Prove it,” she said finally.

Draco’s lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Challenge accepted.”

And with that, his face vanished from the flames, leaving Y/N shaking her head and wondering how Draco Malfoy always managed to get under her skin.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few weeks, his persistence continued. He sent her notes with witty remarks, often mocking her serious work at The Alchemy, trying to provoke a reaction. He’d casually show up at places where she might be—often appearing just at the right moment to interrupt her morning coffee or during late-night discussions about the Quidditch finals. At first, Y/N remained distant, always with a polite but unyielding air.

“You’re insufferable, Malfoy,” she’d said, her eyes narrowing as he leaned casually against her desk at her office.

“And yet, here I am,” he’d replied smoothly, smirking when she rolled her eyes.

“You know, Weasley,” Draco said casually, his voice low, “if you spent less time pretending to dislike me, you might realize you enjoy my company.”

Y/N looked up at him, her gaze steady but not unkind. ”I doubt that,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “You’re a master at charming people, but I’m simply not impressed.”

Draco’s lips curved into a small smile. “You know, you are the first person in a long time who doesn’t buy into the act.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What act?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely, smirking. “The smirking, the charm, the headlines. It works on most people. Not you.”

“Maybe because I know better,” she replied with a teasing smile.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You see through it. That’s why I…” He hesitated, then shook his head with a soft laugh. “Never mind.”

“Why you what?” Y/N prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Draco met her gaze, his gray eyes unusually serious. “Why I care what you think of me. More than I probably should.”

There was silence between them for a moment—an odd tension in the air as Y/N considered his words.

It was the first crack in her walls. Draco showed the briefest flicker of vulnerability.

But Y/N wasn’t going to make it easy.

As much as he tried to provoke her, as much as he coaxed her with his charm, he could see that she was starting to fight back. She wasn’t giving him an inch, which only made him want to push further. After all, Draco Malfoy didn’t back down easily, especially not when he was so invested in winning.

Yet, he knew—deep down—that if he ever wanted to break through to Y/N, he’d have to stop playing the game so much. He’d have to show her that, beneath the arrogant exterior, there was more to him than the world had ever known. And maybe, just maybe, that was precisely what she needed to see.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Y/N sat in her favorite corner of the café, her fingers drumming absently against her coffee cup as she stared down at the latest email from her editorial director at The Alchemy. It had been a long day, filled with deadlines and constant back-and-forths about articles. But this new email was different.

She had expected another mundane assignment, a piece on some new wizarding fashion trend or the latest potion craze. Instead, her editor’s words jumped off the screen with a new challenge:

“Ms. Weasley,

It has come to my attention that despite England’s star seeker Draco Malfoy coming in-and-out of your office, no story is being written about him for The Alchemy.

We need you to write a feature piece on Draco Malfoy.”

She blinked, rereading the message a few times, convinced she had misread it.

“Draco Malfoy?” she muttered to herself, her eyebrows knitting together.

What the hell?

Her first instinct was to toss the email aside. She wasn’t a gossip columnist, and she wasn’t the type to write puff pieces about famous Quidditch players. Y/N prided herself on the hard-hitting, serious stories she was known for—pieces that explored deeper issues, not the insipid celebrity profiles that others at The Alchemy seemed to thrive on.

But then, as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of writing about Draco Malfoy intrigued her. He wasn’t just some athlete who smiled for the cameras and spouted the usual soundbites. No, Draco had always been a more complex figure—a product of his family, his upbringing, and, she suspected, his own inner demons. She had seen the way he carried himself, the mask he wore, and the way he navigated his fame. There was more to Draco Malfoy than people realized.

Still, writing about him felt… strange. She hadn’t forgotten their previous encounters, where he’d flirted with her relentlessly, trying to get a rise out of her with his usual charm. And every time, she had shut him down. She wasn’t interested in him—at least, not in the way he clearly wanted her to be.

But now, she was being asked to dig deeper, to find the story behind the public persona. Her professional side told her it was just another assignment. The personal side of her couldn’t shake the unease in the pit of her stomach at the thought of spending more time with him.

The first meeting with Draco was set for the following week. She walked into the private room at the trendy restaurant where they had agreed to meet, her mind still swirling with questions. Draco was already there, sitting at a corner table, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he saw her approach.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Weasley, the woman who can’t be charmed,” Draco teased, his voice low and smooth. “How long did it take for you to come up with a way to make me sound interesting?”

The girl narrowed her eyes as she sat down, trying not to show discomfort. “You’re not the story I want to write, Malfoy,” she said, her tone sharp. “But my director seems to think you’re worth the ink.”

Draco chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Of course, they do. Who wouldn’t want to write about me?” His eyes twinkled with his usual cocky confidence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the familiar irritation bubble up.

She set her notepad on the table and gave him a pointed look. “So, tell me, Malfoy. What’s it like to be the golden boy of Quidditch? The press loves you. The fans adore you. But what’s going on behind that perfect smile of yours?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her directness. “Is that your first question, then? Going straight for the jugular?”

“Why not? I’m here to get the truth, not some carefully rehearsed spiel.”

His eyes softened for a moment, an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, but he quickly regained his usual cockiness. “Alright, alright. It’s true—being the best is exhausting. All the expectations, the pressure to perform perfectly, to look perfect. It’s a lot more work than people think. But, hey, it’s worth it when you’re the best.”

The girl jotted down some notes, but she couldn’t help but notice the faint flicker of something in his eyes—something real, something raw. It wasn’t the image of the perfect Quidditch star she expected, but the glimpse of someone who might be tired of being in the spotlight. It was a side of Draco Malfoy that was difficult to ignore.

She pressed on, determined not to be distracted. “England’s making history with how it’s the first time that the team has entered the world cup finals. How do you feel about this?”

The boy grinned, crossing his arms in amusement. “It’s only been my 2nd year playing for England as the seeker so it honestly brings me great joy to be part of this historical event.”

Nodding, Weasley continued, “Do you have a personal goal for the upcoming match?”

Draco exhaled, running a hand through his hair, making Y/N look up at him with a raised brow. The boy was about to say something until he hesitated for a moment, gears running in his head as he thought about his answer.

“I want the trophy.” He finally answered. “Nothing else would make me happier than raising the trophy with my own hands above my head. It’s my ultimate goal. I’ll be content for life once I finally make that happen.”

The girl continued to write in her notepad, nodding at every word the Quidditch star had spoken.

“And what about your personal life, Draco? Your time at Hogwarts? Your family?”

Draco leaned forward, his smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Now, you’re getting personal. I see how it is.”

“Just trying to get the truth,” Y/N replied, not backing down.

He met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. ”Maybe you’ll have to dig a little deeper to get that, Weasley.”

As the conversation continued, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Draco was letting her in, just slightly more than he had before. But then, as quickly as the walls came down, they were back up again. He was a master at keeping things just out of reach. She could see that now.

But there was something else—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. For all his bravado and charm, a vulnerability lurked behind his eyes. The question was whether she could uncover it—and whether she even wanted to.

Draco stood to leave as the interview wrapped up, giving her one last lingering look. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said with that trademark smirk.

The reporter gathered her things, her mind racing. She’d gotten the surface-level story she expected. But something told her there was more—much more—to Draco Malfoy than she’d ever realized.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few weeks after the first interview at the restaurant, Y/N sat next to Draco in a quiet corner of a rooftop bar, sipping wine while the city of London stretched out before them. The sound of distant laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them.

Draco had been quiet for most of the evening, a rare occurrence for him. His usual cocky smile was replaced with a more relaxed, contemplative expression as he stared out at the skyline. Y/N found herself watching him, the way the soft glow of the city lights illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the way his eyes flickered with thought.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she remarked, setting her glass down.

He shrugged, but there was a softness to his movements. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” she asked, intrigued despite herself.

He met her gaze, his eyes intense. “About how you’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t seem to expect anything from me.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true. I expect plenty from you, Malfoy.”

His lips curled into a smile, but it was different than usual—less smug, more genuine. “What do you expect?”

“I expect you to stop acting like you have to be some perfect, untouchable person,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Because no one’s perfect, and no one’s untouchable. Not even you.”

Draco’s expression softened, his gaze flicking away for a moment before he turned back to her. “I don’t want to be untouchable. Just…” he paused, then looked down at his glass, tapping it lightly with his finger. “Just don’t let me screw this up.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, though she quickly masked it with a teasing smile. “I think you’ve already screwed it up a few times. C’mon, do you think mocking some of my work at The Alchemy just to get my attention would actually make me fall for you?”

He smirked, but there was no malice in it. “True. But I’m trying.”

Y/N wasn’t sure why, but something in his tone—something in his eyes—tugged at her. She wanted to resist, to remind herself that she couldn’t afford to get caught up in someone like him. But with every word, with every glance they shared, the walls she’d carefully built around her heart seemed to crumble just a little more.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the days passed, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just scratched the surface of something much more complex. Draco Malfoy was precisely as she’d expected in many ways: confident, charming, and completely self-assured in the public eye. But the moments between his carefully constructed exterior, the fleeting glances and small gestures, had made her realize something deeper lay beneath.

The next few weeks were filled with interviews, photo shoots, and press events. Draco’s schedule was packed with appearances, leaving him little time for anything other than his public image. But Y/N managed to secure more time with him, squeezing moments between his practices and press conferences.

Each time they met, the conversation deepened slightly. But for every step he took toward vulnerability, he seemed to retreat just as quickly.

Y/N had asked about his past and his family—subjects that usually turned him distant and defensive. Yet there were moments when she saw a flicker of something else, something more human. He’d speak of his childhood with a mixture of bitterness and longing, a sense of loss that cut deeper than she had expected.

“My father was never proud of me for anything except Quidditch,” Draco had said one afternoon, his eyes dark as they stared into the distance. “I could win every match, and he’d still find something to criticize. I never could escape his shadow.”

It was the first time he had shared anything personal, and it had taken Y/N by surprise.

“Do you remember how I told you that nothing would make me happier than the world cup trophy?”

Y/N nodded as an answer, her gaze focused deeply on Draco.

“To earn that trophy is to finally let go of my father’s disappointment in me.” He confessed, taking a big gulp at his firewhisky afterwards.

Y/N had been so used to Draco Malfoy, who prided himself on his self-sufficiency, the one who lived in the limelight and was always in control. She had never considered that, beneath all that, he might be carrying around the weight of such a complicated family history.

Yet Draco cut the conversation short the moment she let herself lean in, to ask more, to dive deeper into that pain. “Anyway, enough about that,” he’d said, standing up and brushing off the moment as if it were nothing. “What else do you want to know?”

And so, the reporter continued to write. At first, she focused on the public figure of Draco Malfoy—the successful, well-loved athlete who was more than just a face in the crowd.

But with every interview and moment spent with him, she started questioning what she was genuinely uncovering. She was digging, yes, but she wasn’t sure whether Draco Malfoy's story intrigued her—or the man himself.

It wasn’t until one late evening, long after the sun had set that Y/N realized just how much her feelings for Draco had shifted. She had been assigned to cover a charity event where Draco was being honored for his work with the wizarding community. The room was filled with celebrities, athletes, and wealthy families, all gathered to celebrate Draco’s accomplishments. It was the perfect opportunity for him to shine and be the golden boy again.

But there, at the back of the ballroom, she caught him standing alone, leaning against a column with a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes distant, staring out over the crowd. She had always thought of him as the center of attention, always surrounded by people who wanted to be near him, but this moment—how he looked almost… lost—took her by surprise.

The girl approached him cautiously, unsure if this was the same Draco Malfoy she had spent the past few weeks getting to know.

“You look like you’re having the time of your life,” The girl remarked dryly, unable to help herself.

Draco’s lips curled into his trademark smirk. “Oh, you know. Just enjoying the company of people who love me.” He replied.

But the lightness of his words didn’t quite match the heaviness in his eyes. The girl caught a glimpse of the façade he had built so carefully—he was pretending, and she saw right through it.

“Do you really enjoy these things, Draco?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, as if weighing her words. There was an unsettling quiet in the air between them, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“It’s what’s expected of me,” he finally said, his voice low.

Y/N’s heart softened at his words, and she could feel the walls he had built around himself, those barriers keeping everyone at a distance. This was a side of Draco she hadn’t seen before—the vulnerability, the uncertainty.

Before she could say more, there was a call from across the room—another colleague, another guest. Draco straightened up, wiping the moment away like it had never happened. “Duty calls” he said, his mask back in place. “I’ll see you later, Weasley.”

But as he turned to walk away, Y/N felt the weight of the unspoken words between them. She was beginning to realize that this story she was writing about Draco Malfoy wasn’t just about uncovering his public life. It was about something far more complicated that had crept up on her without warning.

She wasn’t just writing about Draco Malfoy anymore. She was trying to understand him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a quiet evening when Draco invited Y/N to a secluded spot near a pub, a place far from the bustling streets and prying eyes. She had been hesitant at first—Draco Malfoy didn’t exactly seem like the type to indulge in quiet, intimate settings—but something about the way he had asked, the sincerity in his voice, made her say yes.

When she arrived, she was surprised to find that it wasn’t a grand, lavish affair. It was just a small, private garden lit by hundreds of softly glowing lanterns, the gentle hum of music in the background. Draco was already there, standing by a small stone bench, a hesitant look on his face as if he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“Malfoy, what is this?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as she took in the peaceful setting.

He gave her a small, sheepish smile. “I thought you might like something...different. Somewhere, we could talk without the usual distractions.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You? Trying to be quiet and intimate?”

Draco chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m trying something new. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with...romantic gestures.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Draco Malfoy—arrogant, smug, unapproachable Draco—admitting he didn’t know how to do this. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, and all she could see was the vulnerability in his eyes.

He stepped toward her, offering her his hand. “I thought we could start with a walk. Maybe later we can... see where the night takes us.”

Y/N hesitated, but then she found herself taking his hand, her pulse quickening as his fingers brushed against hers.

They walked through the garden together, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a golden light over them. The path was lined with roses and jasmine, their sweet scent filling the air. Draco occasionally glanced at her, his smile more natural now, and Y/N found herself smiling back without even thinking about it.

After a while, they reached a small gazebo, draped in ivy and surrounded by flowers. Draco led her to the center, where a small table had been set up with a single candle flickering in the center. He pulled out a chair for her, a small gesture, but it made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Y/N said softly, her voice betraying the warmth she felt. “It’s…”

“Something I wanted to do,” Draco interrupted gently. He placed his hand on hers, his touch warm and reassuring. “Something I wanted to show you. That I can be more than the person you think I am.”

Y/N looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes locked. There was no smugness in his expression now, no arrogance. Just sincerity—something she hadn’t expected from him, but found herself yearning for.

“I know I’ve messed up,” Draco continued, his voice low. “And I know I’m not perfect. But I want to try. I want to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, arrogant Quidditch player. I’m someone who’s willing to do this...to try for you.”

Y/N felt her walls begin to crumble. Every part of her had been bracing for him to let her down, for this to be just another game, another way to keep her interested. But something about the way he was looking at her, the way his hand remained gently resting on hers, made her believe him.

“You don’t have to prove anything, Draco,” she said quietly. “I just need to know you’re not playing games.”

He smiled, his eyes softening. “No games, Weasley. I’m not that stupid.”

The way he said it—so earnestly—left no room for doubt. She could feel the truth of his words, and for the first time, she realized how much she wanted to believe in him.

The evening went on, the quiet intimacy of the garden wrapping them in a cocoon of soft light and silence. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it was enough. Draco had finally shown her a side of him that was real, and in that moment, it felt like the world was just the two of them.

By the end of the night, as they stood together under the stars, Draco took a deep breath. “So, what do you think? Is this enough to make you reconsider that I might be worth it?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she smiled, the answer already clear. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

Draco’s face lit up, and he pulled her in for a hug, one that felt more tender than anything they’d shared before. And as Y/N rested her head against his chest, she realized she wasn’t just falling for him—she had already fallen.

“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire, but still holding back, as if waiting for some sign from her.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she opened her eyes to meet his, the raw emotion in his gaze pulling her in even deeper. “Then why don’t you?”

The words had barely left her lips when his other hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the tension crackling between them, making it impossible to think clearly.

Draco leaned in, his lips just inches from hers, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, everything seemed to slow—time stretching out as they hovered on the edge of something they both knew could change everything.

A sudden sound broke the silence. The rustling of leaves. A faint cough.

Y/N and Draco both snapped their heads to the side, a rush of disappointment and frustration sweeping over them. Standing just at the edge of the garden path, a figure was barely visible in the dim light.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

It was a familiar voice—one Y/N would recognize anywhere.

"George?" she called out, her words laced with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

Draco stiffened beside her, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face the intruder.

"Couldn't find you two anywhere in the pub, so I figured you might be here," George Weasley said, stepping fully into the light with his characteristic grin. He raised a hand in apology. "Did I ruin something?"

Y/N let out a soft sigh, the tension that had been building between her and Draco instantly evaporating. The weight of the moment slipped away, replaced by the sudden, unwelcome intrusion of her older brother’s presence.

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead in irritation. "I was about to—"

George, completely unaware of the emotional wreckage he’d just caused, smiled and raised an eyebrow. "About to what? Kiss her?" He gave a teasing glance to Y/N. "I mean, that’s the only reason I can think of you two standing so close."

Y/N could feel her cheeks burning, the awkwardness of the moment too much to ignore. "George," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "what are you doing here?"

"I told you, I was looking for you," he said with a shrug. "But I’m happy to leave you two to whatever… this is." He made a small gesture between them. "Just don’t do anything I’d do, alright?"

Draco shot him a glare, clearly less than thrilled with the interruption. "You know, George, I’m really starting to wonder what exactly you’re insinuating."

George chuckled and held his hands up in mock defense. "Nothing, nothing. Just wanted to make sure you weren't tying my little sister up in some crazy love affair."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Can’t you go bother Fred?” she said, hoping to push her brother along.

But George just shook his head. “Nah, he’s busy at the shop. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it. Just don’t blame me when it’s not my fault you two don’t kiss already. It’s been hanging in the air since I walked up.”

With that, George turned to leave, his footsteps growing quieter as he disappeared down the path.

Y/N exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance flood through her. "Well, that was awkward," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Draco’s posture had relaxed, but he was still watching her with an amused yet frustrated expression. "I can’t believe that just happened."

And just like that, the moment was lost—not by their own choice, but by fate and the mischievous timing of her brother. Yet, in that space between them, something still lingered, the anticipation hanging in the air like the faintest whisper of what might come next.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the season finale approached, excitement buzzed throughout the wizarding world. The final game of the Quidditch World Cup was drawing near, and Draco Malfoy’s England team was on the cusp of victory. Every publication and every media outlet, was buzzing about the upcoming match. It was a culmination of years of hard work, and Draco was poised to lead his team to the win.

But as much as the excitement of the game filled the air, it wasn’t the only thing occupying Draco’s mind. Y/N Weasley had been a constant presence over the past few weeks, her insightful questions and perceptive eyes causing something inside him to stir.

It wasn’t about the chase anymore; it was about how she made him feel like someone with something real to offer, something that had nothing to do with his past. With Y/N, he wasn’t Draco Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy fortune, the former Death Eater, or even the star Seeker of the England team. He was just Draco.

And now, as the final match loomed closer, something in him knew that he needed her there. He wanted her to witness the moment he had been working toward his entire life, to see him in his element at the peak of his career.

There was a vulnerability in that—asking her to witness his success, to be there as something more than just the journalist writing on his feature for a magazine.

The question came as a text one evening, just a few days before the big game. Y/N was sitting in her apartment, reviewing her notes for her article, when her phone buzzed.

“You’re coming to the final game, right?”

The girl stared at the message momentarily, her fingers hovered over the screen as she debated how to respond.

“I wasn’t planning on it. You’ve got plenty of people in your corner already.”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, but a new message appeared from Draco moments later. “And you think they’re the ones I want there? You should come. I want you to see it. All of it.”

She felt a strange flutter in her chest at his words.

“Fine, I’ll be there. But don’t expect me to cheer for you.”

Draco’s reply was quick, playful, but there was an undertone of sincerity. “I’ll take what I can get. See you there, Weasley.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of the match arrived, and Y/N found herself standing in the VIP section of the stadium, her heart beating faster than she would have liked. The atmosphere was electric, the stands filled with enthusiastic supporters. Draco had ensured that she had the best seat in the house—front and center, right near the team’s private box.

As the match kicked off, Y/N was fully aware that she was there not just as a reporter, but as someone who was beginning to care, in a way she had never intended. She watched Draco carefully, noting the way he moved with precision, the intensity in his eyes, and the confidence in every pass, every dive, every goal.

There was something magnetic about watching him play, not just for his skill, but for the quiet determination that seemed to flow from him.

During the halftime break, Y/N made her way up to the private box, where Draco was standing alone, looking out over the field. He had removed his goggles and gloves.

“You’re doing well,” Y/N said, stepping up beside him, trying to keep her tone casual.

“You came,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and something else. He looked at the girl carefully. There, Y/N stood, wearing a black England Quidditch jersey with Draco’s last name on the back, the number 7 emblazoned proudly across it.

His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected her to wear it, let alone wear it like she was wearing it for him. A small thrill ran through him.

“I said I would,” Y/N replied, her voice steady despite her heart racing.

Draco gave her a broad smile. “You look cute with my last name on your back.” He complimented, Y/N’s cheeks immediately turning red.

Silence engulfed their atmosphere for a while before Draco decided to break it.

“Do you think I can win?” he asked quietly, a rare moment of honesty breaking through his usual bravado.

She met his gaze, her own heart unexpectedly softening. “I think you’ve already won,” she said with quiet certainty. “No matter what happens in the game, you’ve already proven everything you set out to achieve.”

For a moment, Draco said nothing, but his eyes softened, and Y/N saw the vulnerability he had kept hidden. He took a step closer to her, his voice low. “That’s the thing about winning, Weasley. It never feels like enough. Not until I’ve got everything I want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The game resumed, and Y/N’s focus shifted back to the field as Draco and his team pushed forward, the final match unfolding before her eyes.

On the pitch, Draco kept his focus sharp, scanning the skies for the glint of gold, but his mind wandered to her more often than it should have. Was she watching? Was she rolling her eyes every time the announcers praised him? Did she regret coming at all?

When he finally spotted the Snitch, his heart surged, not just with the thrill of the chase but with the knowledge that Y/N was here to see him succeed. He dove with precision, ignoring the French Seeker on his tail, and his fingers closed around the Snitch in one fluid motion. The crowd erupted, and his teammates surged toward him, but Draco’s gaze immediately lifted to the stands.

As the crowd cheered, Y/N found herself caught up in the moment's energy, but it wasn’t the victory that held her attention. It was Draco. She watched as he raised his arms in triumph, his face a mix of relief and elation, his hard work finally paying off.

The crowd erupted as the final whistle sounded, the golden snitch clutched tightly in Draco Malfoy’s hand. The scoreboard flashed the win: England - 310, France - 290. The stadium was a cacophony of cheers, chants, and magical fireworks lighting up the Parisian sky. His teammates swarmed him, their triumphant shouts blending into the roaring crowd. But Draco’s mind was already elsewhere.

He didn’t hear the commentators dissecting his final play or the announcer calling his name as the match’s MVP. All he could think about was her—Y/N Weasley, standing just past the enchanted barriers separating the players from the spectators.

As the crowd surged forward, Y/N made her way down to the field, determined to catch him before the madness of victory consumed him completely. She found him near the edge of the pitch, his teammates surrounding him, all celebrating their victory. But Draco’s eyes found hers immediately, cutting through the noise and the chaos.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. There was no crowd, no reporters, no fans clamoring for his attention. There was just Draco and Y/N—two people who had been circling each other for weeks, testing boundaries, pushing limits, and now, standing on the edge of something neither of them were prepared for.

Draco handed off the snitch to a teammate, brushing past the photographers calling his name. “Where are you going, Malfoy?” one of his teammates shouted, but Draco didn’t bother answering.

The trophy could wait. The celebrations could wait. Everything could wait.

By the time she saw him weaving through the crowd, his hair mussed from the game, a bead of sweat tracing his temple, he was already too close to ignore.

“Where’s the trophy, Malfoy?” she asked, her voice teasing and dripping with sarcasm but her eyes betraying the pride she felt.

“Don’t care,” he said simply, his chest still heaving.

“What kind of star player skips the celebration?” she quipped, but her words faltered as his hands found her waist. In one swift movement, he pulled her over to him, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of her coat.

“The kind who’s got better things to do,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her witty comeback dissolved as his lips crashed into hers, the kiss hard and desperate, as if he’d waited his whole life for this moment. The stadium, the cameras, the spectators—all of it faded into the background. It was just them, wrapped in the kind of alchemy that couldn’t be planned or controlled.

She tasted like red wine, and Draco thought, for once, he might actually have won something worth keeping.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw his gray eyes. “You’re insane, Malfoy,” she whispered, her fingers still gripping the front of his jersey.

“Maybe,” he replied, brushing his forehead against hers. “But I’m yours.”

As the crowd chanted his name and his teammates hoisted the trophy, Draco stayed rooted in that moment with her, knowing that whatever happened next, nothing could compare to the magic of Y/N Weasley in his arms, grinning at him.

He looked at her for a long moment, and then, in a move that surprised her, he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against her cheek in a far more intimate gesture than anything he had done before.

“Thank you, Y/N.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected. “For being here. For seeing me.”

Y/N stood there, her heart racing as she tried to process the shift in their relationship. She hadn’t just witnessed his victory. She had seen him, indeed seen him—for the first time. And now, everything was different.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On my final conversation with star-seeker Draco Malfoy, there I stood, on the sides of the Quidditch pitch, asking him “Where’s the trophy, Malfoy?”

But guess what? He just comes running over to me.

signed,

Y/N Weasley | Senior Editor at The Alchemy

[meimei-archives]

I loveee boxer rafe i definitely think it should turn into a series 🫢🫢

Imagine since there relationship is such a secret one of rafe opponents see y/n but knows she works for Rafe and wants to ask her out which leads to a jealous Rafe.

Or another one when they go out they can’t be all over eachother but girls sometimes try to flirt with him but he dose not even pay attention and y/n takes him to the bathroom

BODY PARTY PT3!:: Rafe cameron

WARNING! :: boxer!rafe, mentions of drug & alcohol use, rejection, jealous!manager!reader, rough sex, oral, hair pulling, unprotected sex, dacryphilia.

SUMMARY! :: with Rafe winning his belt more than ever riding on the high of his new popularity he’s been advised to go to more outings. But with popularity comes desperate groupies…and you don’t like that at all.

You didn’t hate parties. Everybody’s having fun, and drinking getting equally fucked up as the next person and no one could judge. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hate parties in the Hills because of how coked out everyone got, or how sloshed some famous people were and they’d hang all over others they had just met for the first time.

It isn’t as bad depending on who you are. But when you had told Rafe that he had to start networking and getting to know other people while he’s on the uprise and gaining more and more popularity with people of high status who watch boxing and knows his stats and resume that bet on him; well…Rafe wasn’t exactly the happiest about it.

He liked to do his own thing. It was one thing to throw a party for you and your friends, and it was a completely different thing to be invited to yacht parties and be put in an environment where you only know maybe a handful of people. But Rafe appreciated you a bit more when you decided that you’d be his secret plus one, not exactly standing to him but not too far to make sure he doesn’t get himself in trouble.

And in trouble he could have been.

Rafe sat on a couch with a cigarette as he talked to a pretty popular kick boxer, your eyes latch onto him as waves of girls sit around them listening to them chat, it was like watching a club scene in jersey shore. All the girls watch on looking around and mumbling to each other hoping one of them would get picked. All of them looking like they just stepped off a runway.

And at first it didn’t bother you, you sat against a wall talking with Ruthie, Toppers on again off again model girlfriend. Though you never dwell much on her presence due to her nasty attitude as she spews on and on about how she was trying to get back in her right now ex’s good graces after being seen out with an actor. But you were barely even listening because the second she opened her mouth a tall brunette girl sat next to Rafe and placed a hand on his bicep and to anyone else it might have been off handed and just casual.

But you were a woman with eyes…and you’ve fucked Rafe before so you know what brushing against someone and holding onto them meant and you didn’t like it one bit. You press your cup to your mouth as you eye her the nasty feeling that boiled in the pit of your stomach twists but you ignore it as you swallow the warm liquor that burns your throat.

“Are you good? You do realize you don’t have to watch everything Rafe does?” Ruthie pipes up snapping you out of your trance with a sharp look in your eyes “I’m fine. I just don’t want Rafe to do anything that’ll get him thrown under the bus” you shrug as you sink further back into your seat.

“He’s a grown man, and a public figure…so sooner or later you’re gonna run into an issue with beating the ladies off with a stick” she laughs as she takes a hit of her vape that once sat in her lap blowing back what you assume is a minty flavor that hits your face that makes you glare at her through the corner of your eyes.

Before sighing “I know, and it’s not even the fact that he’s getting a taste of the life it’s just…” you want to say that you’d knock the girls head off her shoulders if she kept trying it but you don’t, because you know it’s more blow back on you than anyone so you sigh and roll your eyes “think of it from my perspective; Rafe is this hot guy and everyone on the internet is jumping down his throat and thirsting over him, if he’s caught out and about with some groupie, I have to clean it up. And I don’t want his downfall to be some stupid one night stand with girl who can’t wait to tell her friends she slept with thee Rafe Cameron at stupid party in the hills” you groan, and although you could more or less a good excuse even if you weren’t involved with Rafe.

“Okay, that’s fair…but you’ve been managing Rafe since he was 18?” She shrugs “I’m sure you’ve dealt with a groupie or two in your time” she laughs it off making you laugh with a slight disgusted scrunch to your face “not really, no. Rafe hasn’t been girlfriend oriented since he left the outer banks, he’s been locked in on work. And I think with this new wave of like attention he’s realizing more than ever there is more to him than just boxing. I don’t want to ruin it for him” you whine and makes Ruthie groan.

“You are so caught up in Rafe world that you don’t even worry about yourself. When was the last time you had sex?” Which makes you snap your head towards her instinctively before playing it off with a faux offended look “I’ll have you know I have had plenty of sex…in my life” you trail off in embarrassment and it makes Ruthie snicker as she points over to Rafe “well it’s looking like neither of you are getting laid tonight” with a smirk as she watches ahead.

Rafe grabbed the girls wrist and placed it in her lap carefully and it makes you narrow your eyes to read his lips in the dimly lit room as the girl slightly cowers back in embarrassment with a sower look on her face, and from what you can gather Rafe’s lips read “thank you, but no” and you fight the urge to smirk against the small bit of the drink in your cup as you toss it back swallowing harshly.

As if Rafe could feel your eyes on him they move from the bored and uninterested look to your eyes softening which earns a small wave in return. You stand abruptly making Ruthie turn to you “where are you off to? Going to break it up?” She asks almost amused to see the pretty girl with a frown on her lips but you shake your head “going to get a refill” you shoot her a small smile. For some reason although you could blame the strong liquor you could say Ruthie isn’t that bad…but you’ve known Ruthie for a while and you also know she’s equally annoying as any other groupie even after she made girlfriend status so you don’t think too much about it.

The kitchen was vintage styled and you liked it, as you skim through the various liquor options and settling on one as you pop the cap off when the sound of heavy footsteps come close and stop in next to you making you look over your shoulder to be met with Rafe. “Hey” his voice quiet as if he was walking on eggshells around you. Though he has no reason to be in your eyes, the two of you are sleeping together and have yet to talk about your relationship and the label behind it.

You couldn’t act like a jealous girlfriend if you weren’t even together, right? “Hey” you respond as you turn back to your cup and pour your drink. “No model?” You ask although it doesn’t come out how you planned it to be sounding more annoyed than anything which makes Rafe tense. “Nah…no model” he responds trying to lighten the mood before his fingers brush against the bottom of your skirt tugging it a bit as if he were a kid in a store holding onto his mother.

“Are you mad?” He asks lowly and it makes your brows furrow as you close the bottle and look over at him “should I be?” You were really walking on a thin rope right now, people were scattered around the kitchen and you couldn’t really tell why you had this weird feeling like everyone was watching, but you didn’t look away from him. “No…I just-” he sighs as if he was guilty of something, but you knew better.

“Come on” you mumbled as you walk past the many people gathered for beer pong in a corner, you walk down the dark hallway and up the stairs as the loud music had become distant. Picking one of many rooms to talk in, the bathroom a bit spacious he closes the door behind you both and locking it before turning to see you looking at yourself in the mirror fixing up your hair and wiping away the small smudge of lipstick on the corner of your mouth.

“Please don’t be mad?” It was as if he was convinced you were angry and distant as the buzz of a few beers starts to kick in, he walks closer to your pressing your back to his chest and wrapping the buff arms around your waist. The feeling of his warm breath and body heat against you makes you slightly tense and it makes the blonde frown. “I’m sorry” he mumbled against your skin and it makes you sigh, you hated that Rafe was apologizing to you for something when he did nothing wrong.

“I’m not mad at you, stop saying sorry” you say softly and it makes his blue eyes glossed over meet yours through the mirror “what’dya mean?” He blinks slowly and it makes you turn around to face him. “I like you Rafe, and we have sex…a lot, but, I’m not your girlfriend” you shake your head watching his face as his eye slightly twitches at your words. “I don’t have a right to be jealous or be mad at you, I don’t like the idea of you with other girls but…what you decide to do with them is out of my control at that point” with a shrug and a sad smile that makes Rafe’s frown deepen.

“I don’t want them. That’s something you don’t have to worry about. I came here with you. I don’t care if we’re in the same room on different sides or if you’re across the country. I like you, and I told you that the night we first had sex. I’m not going to do anything to break my word on that, I’m not that type of person” he gripped onto the hem of your skirt like once before tightly with an intense look in his eyes.

“That’s why I told that girl no thanks. After you walked off she asked me why, and I told her it’s because I’m interested in someone else and I can’t ruin it” he whispered and his voice is so vulnerable. “You’re not ruining anything, I am. I was just so jealous that while some model, actress, whoever gets to hit on you and be all up under you and I can barely stand next to you for too long. And I really hate the fact that she touched you” your face could turn blue with the list of insecurities you had in this situation but you didn’t want to make it a bigger deal.

“You were jealous? You have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t know them, and I don’t want them. Why would I go and fuck up a good situation with you for one night with someone I don’t care about?” He looks at you and it makes you look down at your shoes in embarrassment. “Look at me” Rafe was rather stoic around others, standoffish to most, but when it was the two of you it felt like all vulnerability and emotions were easily brought out to the forefront.

“Baby, please look at me” he sounded as if he were begging and you hated it, yet you reluctantly look up at him with a small frown “I want you. I said it and I’m not going back on it” he whispered and it makes a wave of reliefs wash over your once heavy bones you nod and cup his cheek pressing a soft kiss to his lips “I almost knocked her head off her shoulders” you mumble against his mouth and it makes him snicker in return.

“Yeah? I bet you would’ve, I can’t believe you watched me tell her no and still got jealous” his tone very lighthearted and it makes you press your face into his chest a groan out of embarrassment. “Let me show you how much I want you” he whispered as his hands rub against your back and it makes you look up at him with an unreadable expression as you watch him.

The few seconds that pass felt like forever in the moment "So what's stopping you from doing it?" you said with a flirtatious tone. His brows lift at your words, you cock your head to the side questioning him. His arms tighten around your waist as his eyes look into yours "is this what you wanted?" your hands find their way to his shoulder, your fingers caressing his short blonde tresses on the back of his neck. "I think i want a little bit more than this" your faces gravitate like magnets until your warm breath is on his face.

Gripping at your waist Rafe pulls you closer until your chests touch "yeah?" he asks snarkily, narrowing his eyes "mhm" you hum nodding as your faces lean closer and closer until the tips of your noses brush against each other. You let your eyes flutter shut out of instinct, closing the distance between the both of you. His soft lips trace yours as the sound of lips smacking against each other becomes the only sound in the bathroom.

You felt dizzy at the mere feeling of his lips on your and the smell of his cologne engulfs you sending raw shivers down your spine. The kiss becomes sloppy and wet, you feel Rafe bite your bottom lip making you gasp, letting his tongue push past your lips into your warm cavern, his tongue brushing over yours, you suck on his tongue as he lets out a small groan.

Rafe has never gotten hard so easily before, but something about the way you kissed him and pulled him closer by the back of his neck had quickly let a tent in his jeans grow. His hands slipping from your waist to your ass with a squeeze you let out a moan against his lips. Pulling away Rafe finally let out a small curse "fuck" he says looking at how your lip gloss was now smeared and some on his lips.

Rafe began to gently push you against the counter, the feeling of the back of your thighs gently touching it "can i take your shirt off?" he asks in a low tone, you almost eagerly nod your head with approval.his hands find themselves pulling the hem of your shirt over your head revealing you in a bra, dropping the shirt onto the tiled floors Rafe's eyes darken seeing your chest being held in the pretty lace bra with a bow attached to it like his own personal gift.

Who would've knew that Rafe would be in the bathroom of a random party and almost at second base with his manager that he never really had hooking up with for a two and a half months now, i mean yeah sure Rafe always thought you were pretty cute, but he never would've suspected that his cute manager would be in a bathroom during a party with no shirt on looking at him like she was ready to suck him dry.

As your lips pull away from his you began to kiss down his neck, you were looking for his sweet spot, once your lips found a cute small mole on his neck you give it a small chaste kiss he groaned making you smile and began to leave a hickey, sucking on his skin making him huff out a hushed moan. Rafe's hand finds its way into your hair entangling his fingers with the strands. "Do you always get turned on by jealousy?" you ask whispering against his neck, he lets his head fall back while his adams apple moves when he tries to swallow his saliva, he nods "no, but it’s you and I just can’t help it." he asks, oh the way his sultry voice did things to you, you only hum and nod as you move from his cute spot and continue down to his collarbone.

You let your hand slither under his shirt touching his warm skin practically setting it ablaze, his lower abdomen flexing at the feeling of your nails teasingly dragging against his sensitive skin. He barely even touched you and he can't get enough. Your hand gently pushing him back to give space between the counter, dropping to your knees and looking up at him through your long thick lashes with doe eyes.

Rafe could just cum in his pants at the view of you down on your knees for him. Your hand rubbing against the bulge in his blonde jeans making Rafe groan and let his hand grab the button on his jeans tugging it open and pulling down his zipper for you to see his boxers peeking through. Your hand tugs at the waistband.

"Gonna put that pretty mouth of yours to good use?" He asked as his hand pats the top of your soft hair, you nod looking up at him with evilly innocent eyes. Pulling his pants over his thighs and down to his ankles you could see the precum leaking through his underwear, your index finger rubbing the spot making the man above groan in sensitivity. You palm him one more time before your fingers dig under his waistband and begin pulling it down, seeing what is past his v-line.

You see his hard dick springing past the fabric his tip was blushed and sticky with precum, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of taking him down your throat. you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his dick into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb. Your other hand resting on his thigh you feel him twitch the squelching sound of your spit and precum rubbing against his dick makes your thighs clench.

Puckering your lips you press small kisses and his base and up his shaft until you reach his blushed tip, licking a stripe of saliva against his slit had his thighs quiver "fuck" he groaned feeling your lips envelope his tip slowly taking him in your warm mouth,your hand still at his base jerking him off Rafe closes his eyes as his hand pushes your head down furthe.

Flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back and his breathing was labored. you rubbed your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger.

You could feel the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes were closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him. Rafe let his hand guide your head to bob while you hollow your cheeks, Rafe was losing his mind at the feeling.

Breathing through your nose you could barely breath as Rafe bucked his hips into your mouth losing himself in the feeling of your warm mouth. Spitting on his tip you use your tongue to spread it, earning a moan as his pats become tugs when your lips wrap around his and you push your head down relaxing your throat you feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

Pushing your head down further you relax your throat taking him deeper until your nose hits his pelvis. Tears cloud your eyes as you almost gag, pulling your head back just a bit you take a deep breath through your nose and begin to bob your head.

You moan as you feel him buck his hips into your throat. "Feels good," he said as you continued to take him in your mouth slurping and bobbing your head, all without hands you were heaven-sent."Fuck- y/n you're so good, don't fucking stop" he cursed while moaned out, you speed up your pace as his balls were greeted with a squeeze from your hand. He was approaching his orgasm as his hips buck into your throat relentlessly you gag with each thrust. Tears spilled past your lashes and down your saliva-covered cheeks.

The groans made your pussy ache so you clenched your thighs closed. Sounds of groans buzzing in his chest you couldn't help but let out gargles gags and moans at the tall man above you tears pricked your eyes again but you blink them away and continue taking him. He felt so good your warm and wet mouth was doing it but when you hollow your cheeks. Your hand that was at his base continued to move leaving him to buck his hips into your warm and wet cavern.

You gag as he repeatedly lets his tip meet the back of your throat yet you never pull away. "You take it so fucking- good" he slurs feeling himself twitch, your moans muffled sending vibrations to his dick making him shutter and his orgasm approach. "I'm gonna cum!" He moaned as he thrusts one final time before he pushes your head down, cumming down your throat.

Pulling your head away Rafe looked down at your kneeling figure seeing your spit mixed with his cum on your cheeks, chin and lips, your breathing was in shambles as you cleared your throat letting your hand touch your jaw that had been aching. Rafe's eyes darken looking at you and wiped away all the fluids on your face. You stand up from the floor feeling the ache in your knees. Pulling his shirt over his head letting himself strip off any more clothes on him.

Dropping the piece of clothing and ridding you of the rest of your clothes that are in the way, all except your skirt. His hands continue to explore your body being a bit more than aggressive before, back into your position from before, Rafe's lips clashing with yours and his hands gripping the fat of your ass, you could feel your thighs becoming sticky with slick that built up from the lust. Pulling away from the rough kiss pulling your forearm in a tight grip, your hips are pushed into the counter, you were met with the view of your mascara running and hair messy from Rafe pulling and tugging at your tresses.

His palms holding your bare breasts needing them in his hands, you let out a small whimper, you felt his dick poking at the back of your thigh as he kissed at your neck marking you with purple and red splotched hickeys that were determined to bruise over as the minutes pass slowly. Your back arched as your ass pressed against him, your hands grip at the marble counter "please just fuck me" you whisper needily. Rafe bites his lips as the sound of your desperate voice resides in his ears. Nodding he grabs the base of his dick letting his tip rub against your slit teasingly as he groans feeling the way you were soaked, his hand grabbing at

Your ass squeezing, seeing your pussy glistening jerking himself off at the sight still in sight of your pretty pussy on display. His tip presses against your entrance feeling him push his tip in, the stretch makes the both of you wince. The burning feeling gives a sort of pleasure as he lets his shaft sink deeper into your rigid walls.

His hands grab onto your waist as he slowly begins to thrust "You're so tight, I would've thought you were a virgin if we hadn’t fucked so much" he whispers harshly as he shuts his eyes letting the sweet feeling of you wrapped around him. Your moans coming out soft, as your back arches, Rafe lifting your skirt over your ass to gain leverage over you pulling it back so your hips meet his.

The sound of your pussy squelching makes you clench around him moaning lowly. Your moans were weak and it made Rafe want to hear you, even more, he wanted everyone to hear you. His hips began to push harder into you making you moan louder in huffs. Your chest is bouncing.

"Fuck- Rafe you feel so good" you slur as the sounds coming from your lips make it hard for the boy to choke back his moans his hand leaving your waist to your neck putting little pressure as he pulls your back to his firm chest. You let your hips bounce in his lap with every roll of his hips as the sound of skin against skin resides in the air. Your eyes were closed as you fuck yourself on his dick and you were just overwhelmed with pleasure while hearing his moans in your ear.

"So now you know that I don’t want anyone else other than you right?" he asked teasingly as he continuously pounds into you. Letting go of the fabric of your skirt Rafe grabs a hold of your throat forcing you to open your eyes out of shock you seeing the way Rafe's hands touched your body made you moan loudly, Your hand falling off the counter top you slip your fingers between your thighs to rub your clit.

The wet and sloppy sounds echo in the bathroom halls as your breathing becomes shallow from the pressure around your throat. Whimpering at his dirty words "I asked you a question" he grunted as his pace became brutal and almost bruising. The feeling of your orgasm churning in the pit of your stomach makes your moans become short "i'm close, please don't stop" you beg feeling his tip rub against a spot that made your eyes roll back.

was hitting spots nobody had never even touched before when you had sex that made you slur out whines as your hand falls from between your thighs. "right there! Please don't fucking stop" you moan letting your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly with each hard thrust.

Pushing your back against his chest Rafe could hear the harsh sound of skin on skin and immediately felt himself tipping over the edge at the feeling "right here? Does it feel good like this?" He moaned breathily as he practically shivered at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him harder.

You nod eagerly as you feel the same pressure at the pit of your stomach "touch yourself for me" he groaned tossing his back, you let your hand slip between your spread legs that jiggled with each hard deep thrust as your middle and ring finger rub small circles on your clit.

You whine as Rafe lets out a string of moans continuously pounding into you. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as you moan his name loudly, the feeling of your orgasm approaching vastly you lift your head "I'm gonna cum" you say as your lungs burn. "Wait. I'm close too" he ordered and you listened, you tried hard to hold your orgasm and it wasn't until you felt Rafe start twitching inside your spasming walls had you decided to move your hips against his speeding up the pace as you were crying out for your orgasm.

thick pearl spurts painting the inside of your walls. You feel full and warm, you bite your swollen lips. Lazily bucking his hips into you Rafe fucking his cum deeper inside until he felt overstimulation creep up on him. Your legs are shaking yet you didn't care. "You can give me one more right?" he asks, cooing at your quivering hips. Your hands shaking to grab at his hand that was on your throat, "yes" you moan as you bounce your hips chasing one more orgasm.

Rafe feels his hips involuntarily buck with overstimulation as he curses under his breath "fuck, fuck, fuck, how are you still so tight?" he moans letting his head fall into your shoulder losing himself. His hand falls from your throat and grabs at the fabric of your skirt again tighter. Watching the way your ass bounced on his dick while a white ring of your cum mixed with his formed around his base.

Your breathing is shaky as the pressure in the pit of your stomach becomes more tight "im gonna cum ag-again" you slur as you feel Rafe pound you mercilessly. You knew that you were wrecked as you were met with the view in the mirror shakily being fucked while Rafe felt a wave of ecstacy as you clench around him "fuck" he let out a gutteral moan as you both cum. His thrusts finally slow down as another warm load of cum fills your overstimulated pussy.

Your legs were weak and your thighs were sore, Rafe softened inside you pulling out slowly watching as his cum dripped from your pussy, he felt himself twitch at the sight. Letting go of your skirt Rafe finds a rag on the rack of essentials that sat next to the sink "lets you cleaned up and i can give you a ride home" he says as he turns on the faucet soaking the ragged fabric in warm water and ringing it before wiping you clean.

Your thighs shake as you stand still, or at least try to. "Okay" you answer him nodding. Tossing the rag into a hamper that was in the corner of the bathroom he began to pick up both of your clothes and put them back on you and him. Just as Rafe pulls your shirt over your head and fixes your hair he gently kisses your lips as his hand grips your chin "maybe i can actually take you on a date instead of fucking you at a party sometime soon?" he asks but it's less of a question and more of a suggestion. You play a bit clueless acting as if you were thinking hard “ill see if I can make time, I have this client who won’t be so happy though”

“Really?” He asks his tone faux curious “yeah, he really likes to beat guys up, so…you might wanna steer clear” you shrug and it makes him chuckle as he pulls you into his chest “shut up” he mumbled pressing one more kiss to your lips.

[fictionalwh0ree]

Hi!

I wanted to make a Billie request please, with reader being either her gf or fwb and she starts pushing Billie away since she feels insecure since Billis constantly hanging with exes and flirting with other girls online? Thank you so much 🤗

jealousy- billie eilish

summary: even though you're strictly friends with benefits, that doesn't stop you from feeling jealous when billie talks to other girls.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut; fingering, use of vibrator

billie eilish masterlist | main masterlist

“you’re so pretty”

the words flowed effortlessly from her mouth, no thought behind them. the words seemed so foreign to you, words you’d gone from hearing multiple times a day to once a week. you couldn’t help the jealousy you felt. your eye twitched slightly, but you fought the urge to look up at billie, at her live. you trained your eyes on your own phone. you tried to tune it out. you’d gotten used to it.

billie would go on live a couple times a week, and when she would share it with others. her fans, overjoyed that they would get the chance to speak with their idol, would blush and scream as she complimented them, flirting back and forth with some of them. but what bothered you most was that she would do it in front of you. the fans didn’t know, as you were hidden off-screen.

you were over at her house multiple times a week, your hookups becoming an almost daily occasion. you would lie next to her in bed, in only one of her t-shirts, your panties and other clothes discarded on the floor somewhere, and watch her as she was on her phone. you watched as she texted other girls, liked their stories and pictures, all while your arm was pushed up against hers. you told yourself it didn’t matter. she didn’t owe anything to you, you weren’t together, just friends with benefits. but if that was the case, why did you feel so worthless? every text she sent would punch a hole through your heart and you couldn’t do anything about it, because at the end of the day, you’d rather have her for a little bit than not have her at all.

now, you laid next to her, out of the camera’s view. you listened as she laughed, trying to ground yourself by taking deep breaths. you looked up at her phone, seeing a notification pop up.

i’m in la

you waited for the next one.

we can finally meet up

you read the username and recognized her as a popular instagram model.

my hotel room’s soundproof 😉

your eyes began to sting as you tried to blink back tears.

i’m only here for one night

u in?

fuck.

she clicked on the notification, pausing her live, but before she could respond, you made your move. you got out of her bed and collected your clothes, swiftly putting your underwear and pants on.

“y/n, where are you going?” billie asked as you took her shirt off and tossed it at her face, making sure not to look at her.

“i have to go,” you mumbled, throwing on your own shirt.

“why?” she asked.

“i have plans,” you said bluntly.

“y/n” she laughed, “no, you don’t. it’s 4 o’clock on a tuesday. if you had something, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“yeah, you’re right billie,” you said bitterly, turning to face her, “i don’t have plans. but you’d better start getting ready for your next hookup, because one person a day just isn’t enough, right?”

“y/n,” she said apologetically.

“where’s my phone?” you asked, searching the room.

“y/n,” she said, this time more firm.

“goddamnit, where is it?” you said, the frustration causing the tears you’d been fighting off to start spilling.

“y/n,” she said seriously.

“what.” you said angrily, running your hands through your hair.

“i’m sorry, but-” she began.

“but we’re just friends with benefits,” you finished her sentence, “i know, that’s why i’m leaving, so you have enough time to wash my scent off you for the next one. but i’m done. this is it. now you’ll have space for as many bitches as you want.”

“i wasn’t gonna go,” she said softly, getting up from the bed.

“what?” she said as she approached you.

“i wasn’t gonna go. i’m with you, why would i go?” she asked.

“me being around has never stopped you from flirting with other girls,” you argued.

“those girls mean nothing to me,” she said.

“i don’t mean anything to you either. that’s why we’re strictly friends with benefits,” you said.

“you know that’s not true, don’t you?” she said, a smirk playing at her lips as she got closer to you, meaning you were against the wall.

“no,” you mumbled.

“no? we see each other almost every day. would that happen if you didn’t mean anything to me? no other girl spends as much time with me as you. most girls don’t spend any time with me,” she said, her hand now resting on your waist, caressing it gently.

“meanwhile, you’re wearing my shirts, cooking in my kitchen, dancing in the living room with me,” she said, her voice now just above a whisper as she was only a couple inches from your face, “you have to know you mean a lot to me.”

“how would i have known that?” you said, getting angry again.

“how could i have possibly known that when you were flirting with the most gorgeous girls i’ve ever seen?” you said, laughing sadly.

“no one compares to you. i promise you that,” she whispered.

“you’re the only one for me,” she said, her eyes silently pleading for forgiveness.

you turned your head away from her, not wanting to meet her eyes. she took the opportunity to latch onto your neck, sucking and nibbling gently.

“billie,” you said reluctantly.

“you’re telling me you don’t want this?” she asked.

“i-,” you began.

“i do. but no more girls,” you said firmly.

“only you, mama,” she confirmed, her eyes falling to your lips before leaning in.

she kissed you gently, but it began to get more heated, as it usually did. she turned you around, pushing you backwards until your legs hit the back of her bed. you let yourself fall back onto it and scooted until your head hit the headboard as billie held herself above you. her hands moved to pull your pants down and once they were low enough you kicked them off. she then pulled your panties off with an undeniable urgency. she moved down, parting your legs with one swift motion. she began to trail kisses up and down your inner thighs.

“billie,” you moaned pleadingly.

she stopped, looked up at you, and smirked, before attaching herself to your clit, sucking it gently before bringing her fingers up to trace your folds. she teased your entrance before pushing her fingers in. she pumped them in and out, curling them to hit your g-spot which she knew so well. moans fell from your lips and soon you felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

“i’m so close,” you said as you threw your head back.

but, out of nowhere, she stopped completely. you looked down at her, confusion clear on your face.

“not yet,” she smirked mischievously.

“pick up my phone,” she commanded, and you did as told.

“open it,” she said, watching you.

“unpause the live,” your eyebrows shot up, but you followed her instructions.

“good girl,” she whispered, “now talk.”

“hi guys!” you greeted after clearing your throat.

the comments flooded with people greeting you. they weren’t surprised to see you, as besides being an established celebrity, your friendship with billie was not new. you began to answer some of their questions when something entered you suddenly. you yelped, looking down at billie. she gave you a cocky smirk before holding her finger up to her lips and pursing them. you put all your focus into the live, not wanting them to catch on, but it was getting increasingly harder as she toyed with the settings of a pink vibrator. she pushed it in and out, turned the setting up and down, all while using her free hand to play with your already swollen clit.

your breathing was getting laboured as you felt yourself getting closer to your climax. you threw your head back, sealing your eyes shut. the comments expressed their concern, asking if you were okay.

“i’m just tired,” you explained, “long day. why don’t i let some of you guys on?”

the knot was building more and you knew you were a mere seconds away from cumming. you rushed through the requests, picking a random fan with you as their profile picture. as her side of the video came up, she started yelling out of excitement. she was sobbing and screaming with no break, and as billie rubbed your clit a bit harder, you released. you felt as billie licked and lapped up everything, relief overcoming you.

‘oh my god,’ you mouthed off camera.

“i love you so much y/n” the girl said through sobs.

“aw, i love you too!” you responded before the girls internet cut out, causing her to lose her spot in the live.

billie moved from her spot and came into the view, smiling into the camera happily. she looked at you and you saw a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“hi guys! this is my g-” she started to say, but you ended the live.

“-irl,” she finished offline.

“not yet,” you laughed, kissing her on the lips as she laughed softly.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello! I'm absolutely in love with your work and I'm always just so friggin' happy whenever a new one gets published.

If it's alright with you, I'd like to request an Eddie x Reader inspired by the song "Centerfold" by The J. Geils Band. The song's been stuck in my mind for days now and I just can't help hearing the song from Eddie's point of view.

Hope you're doing great!

I love this song so this was so fun to write! Thank you for your kind words and for requesting!

Warnings: smut, p in v, mention of unprotected sex, language, I think that’s it?

Words: 6.9k

Eddie had been on the road for months now. The roar of the crowd every night filled his veins with adrenaline and his heart with contentment. But once the buzz faded and the lights went off, Eddie would find himself in his bunk on the tour bus, trying to catch some much-needed sleep as the driver took them to their next tour stop. The gentle rock of the large bus back and forth on the road usually lulled Eddie to sleep eventually, but tonight, he seemed to feel every little bump and pothole on the interstate. 

“Holy shit.”

Gareth is always making a big deal out of the stupidest shit, so Eddie didn’t bother pulling open the small curtain to his bunk and looking up at the bed above him. He was honestly surprised that Gareth wasn’t asleep yet, because he was well known to be the one who passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

“Dude.”

Still, Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie? You awake?”

The lead guitarist rolls his eyes and pushes the short curtain open.

“What?”

Gareth peeks his head over the edge of the bunk, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Uncomfortable is an odd look on Gareth, as he’s usually unfazed by anything and everything. That alone has Eddie intrigued.

“Dude, what?” Eddie asks again.

“Shit, I don’t know if I should tell you,” Gareth says.

“You shouted for me multiple times while I’m trying to sleep. You better damn well tell me.”

His friend’s head disappears back into the bunk and Eddie lets out a longsuffering sigh. There’s rustling coming from above him and instead of Gareth popping back into view like he expects, something falls down and smacks Eddie square in the face.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, glaring up at the higher bunk. There’s no response though, which has Eddie huffing again in anger before he looks down at what hit him. It’s a copy of XXXTRA, the popular adult magazine, that Eddie is no stranger to. Gareth’s never shared porn with him before, and if he was being honest, Eddie found it a little weird. Especially since he’d be up there in his bunk with it. As if his friend can read his mind, Gareth calls down.

“I just opened it, Jesus Christ. Turn to the centerfold.”

With a sigh, Eddie swipes the magazine from the floor and lays back in his bed. Making himself comfortable, he flips through the pages until he comes to the very middle of the magazine. When he does, Eddie’s heart seizes in his chest, and he feels his blood run cold. The black negligee is short and skimpy, the lace neckline – if it could be called that – dipped low between the breasts, keeping a small portion of the swell of her chest covered. Or it would be if the whole negligee wasn’t completely sheer, showing off her impressive natural breasts. It’s a sexy piece of lingerie on its own, but the woman wearing it is far sexier. She was also Eddie’s high school sweetheart. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie echoes Gareth’s words from earlier. 

“Right?” Gareth says from above him, and Eddie raises his leg to kick the bottom of his bandmate’s bunk. 

“Not another word,” Eddie snaps. His eyes scan over your body on the glossy print again, an odd mixture of confused and aroused. The fact that Gareth saw this – saw you like this – has Eddie gripping the edges of the magazine tighter in his hands. But then it occurs to him: everyone who bought this magazine would see you like this. See you in the provocative position you’re sitting in, leaning in towards the camera, black lace laying against your soft skin. At least Eddie knew from experience that your skin was soft. Not everyone who holds the magazine could say that. 

He drops the magazine down on his chest and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s been almost a decade since Eddie’s seen you, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you from time to time. Even when he’s laying alone in a hotel room, fist wrapped around his cock, remembering all the times and places you two fooled around back in high school. The breakup was mutual and heartbreaking, but unavoidable as you went off to college and Corroded Coffin set off to make their dreams come true. None of it changed the fact that there was a special place held in Eddie’s heart just for you.

Mrs. O’Donnell drones on and on, sounding like the teachers from Charlie Brown the more she speaks. Eddie does his best to listen – he really does, but it’s so hard when the words are all blending together into one cacophonous sound. It’s the crone’s own fault, really, when his mind drifts far from the subject of World War II and onto the dress you’re wearing today. A cute green floral sundress, long enough to keep Eddie from going all alpha male jealous, but still short enough to keep his eyes glued to the backs of your thighs as you walked. The cotton was so soft as he rubbed his hands over your waist and hips this morning, pulling your body against his just because he never wanted to let you go. All of your curves were accentuated perfectly, and the color brought out your eyes so much that Eddie was pretty sure this was his favorite outfit of yours ever. Well, favorite outfit that you could wear in public.

A tap against his knee catches Eddie’s attention and he notices your hand underneath his desk, a slip of paper between your fingers. He slips the note from your grip, squeezing your hand before he reluctantly lets go of it. Your stifled giggle brings a smile to his face as he unfolds your note.

What’re you thinking about? Your face is especially cute 

Eddie does a double take to make sure O’Donnell isn’t looking his way before grabbing his pencil and scribbling down a reply. He drops the note on your desk, poking you in the side to make you squirm before containing himself back in his own seat.

Funny you should ask! I was thinking about you and that sexy little dress. So if you see my fly straining over my crotch, you know why

Eddie watches your face go scarlet as you read the letter, quickly crumbling the paper up and shoving it in your backpack so no one else can see what it says. Mrs. O’Donnell was notorious for making people read notes they’ve passed out loud and you’d be damned if you were going to have to speak Eddie’s words out loud to the whole class. 

Lucky for you, the bell rings so there’s no time for your teacher to catch your note passing. Eddie takes your hand in his as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Your house?” Eddie asks as the two of you walk down the hallway towards the school exit. 

“Yeah. Unless you’re too eager and need to take me in the back of your van?” You shoot a smirk at your boyfriend, and he bites his lip to suppress a moan.

“Fuck, don’t tempt me.” He slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

The whole ride to your place, Eddie keeps his hand on your thigh, inching it higher every few minutes, and telling you all the things he wants to do to you once you get there. He does it partially because it turns him on, but mostly because he loves seeing you get all flushed and shy. The two of you may have been together for over three years now, but he could still turn you into a blushing, stuttering mess. 

As you try to unlock your front door, Eddie’s hands are moving up and down your body and he’s pressing kisses to the back of your neck. 

“Eddie!” You let out a squeal as he digs his fingers into the softness of your tummy. 

“Can’t help it,” Eddie mumbles into your hair. “You’re just so cute, angel.”

No sooner than you’ve stepped in the house does Eddie have you pinned up against the closed door. His lips are on yours and his hands are pushing your dress up your hips. The moan that leaves your lips is involuntary as your arms loop around his neck. 

Eddie’s large hand cups the back of your thigh and hoists your leg around his hip. His lips break from yours and he trails his mouth down to your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. 

“M-My room,” you say.

“Too far,” Eddie speaks against your skin. “Need you here.”

“Against the front door?” you ask with a breathy laugh.

“Guess we could make the few steps to the couch.” 

At Eddie’s pat on your ass, you jump up and wrap your other leg around his hips. Hands braced on your ass and teeth nipping at your neck, Eddie takes you over to the couch on the other side of the room. You land on your back, legs tightening around him, so he falls down on top of you. 

You’re pushing Eddie’s leather jacket off his shoulders as he grinds his hips into yours, the friction over your thin cotton panties making your eyes roll back in your head. Eddie’s quick to strip himself of his shirt and his fingers tangle in the material of your dress as he struggles to get it over your head.

“Eddie!” You giggle as you help him shuck it off. “So impatient, baby.”

“Can’t help it,” Eddie says, mouthing at the lace cups of your bra. “You’re too perfect. Drive me crazy.”

Reaching behind you, you unclasp your bra and slip it down your arms, allowing Eddie to bite at the cup and throw it from your body like a dog letting go of a bone. His mouth comes right back to your breast, tongue lapping over your nipple before wrapping his lips around it, his hand coming up to massage your other breast. Your fingers tangle in your boyfriend’s hair and your hips buck up against his, making him moan around your nipple. The vibrations send a tingle up your spine and cause you to whimper.

“Eddie,” you whine. “Need you.”

With a pop, Eddie lets go of your nipple and presses kisses along the valley between your breasts. 

“Need me how, angel?” he asks.

“Inside me. Please.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Eddie says, already shimmying his jeans down his hips. He’s already slipped the condom from his pocket and tossed it onto your tummy. You work on opening the foil packet as Eddie frees the both of you from your underwear. 

Eddie reaches down and runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before moving back up to your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive nub, making your hands stall over the condom. 

“Fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan, Eddie smirking in satisfaction as he presses sweet kisses up your shoulder and across your collarbones. 

“Such language, baby,” he teases. 

“You’re one to talk,” you say with a laugh. Reaching down and wrapping your hand around his cock shuts him up. Eddie squeezes his eyes closed as you work the condom down his length, making sure to touch him as much as possible as you do. He twitches in your hand as you give him one final squeeze before moving your hand away. “Excited, handsome?”

“For my favorite pussy? Hell yes.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words, hands running up his chest.

“Only pussy you’ve ever had, Eds.”

“I don’t need any other to know this is my favorite,” Eddie says between hot wet kisses against your neck. “You’re saying you’d need another dick to know mine is your favorite?” He takes a hold of himself in his hand, rubbing his aching tip through your soaked folds. 

“N-Never,” you moan. “Only dick I’ve ever had, only one I ever want.” 

“Good,” Eddie says as he starts to push inside of you. “I love being your one and only.” Your fingernails dig into Eddie’s shoulders as he thrusts more of himself into you. The way he stretches you out always feels perfect, every single time. “Only cock you’ve ever had.” He places a kiss to your lips. “Only boyfriend you’ve ever had.” Another kiss. “Only kiss you’ve ever had.” Another kiss. 

“You just love corrupting me, don’t you?” you ask in between heavy breaths. Eddie’s hips buck at your question, and you think you’ve got your answer. 

“Shit,” Eddie says as he buries himself in you fully. “Swear you get tighter every time.”

“Maybe you just get bigger,” you say with a playful smirk.

“Gonna give me a big head, baby.”

Eddie already knows he’s not going to be able to last terribly long, having been aching for you all day. It’s your fault, really, how much you turn him on just walking down the halls or tapping the eraser of your pencil against your perfectly glossed lips. 

He slips two fingers into your mouth and presses down on your tongue, causing you to moan at his forcefulness. His hips keep a steady pace as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking on them just enough to make his hips stutter. Your mouth let's go with a wet smack and Eddie lowers his spit-coated fingers to your clit, working against your nub in the way he knew drove you absolutely wild. 

Lips parting and eyes closing in pleasure, you lose yourself in the pressure of Eddie’s fingers and the absolute fullness of his cock nestled inside of you. 

“Feel good, angel?” Eddie asks.

Unable to speak, you nod your head, nails digging in even deeper to the pale skin of Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Good,” Eddie says, adding a little extra pressure to your clit. “Want you to cum on my cock, baby. Fuck, you know how much I love that.”

It’s true – Eddie’s pretty sure he could cum just from the feeling of your walls spasming around him and absolutely soaking all the way down to his balls. 

“Close,” you whimper, forcing your eyes open to look at your boyfriend above you. He’s flushed, sweat forcing some of his hair to stick to his forehead, and tongue poking out of his pretty lips as he works himself in and out of you at a steady pace. The sight makes you smile, and what you don’t know is that Eddie’s admiring the view of you as well. He takes in how your forehead is creased from the pleasure you feel, tits bouncing every time he presses into you, and your hair splayed out around you like a halo, making you look like the angel you are. 

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie encourages, his hips speeding up. Your back arches in pleasure as his angle changes and he pounds into that perfect spongey spot inside of you. 

“There! Fuck, right there, Eddie.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says. 

Between Eddie’s cock ramming into that spot repeatedly and his fingers dancing over your clit deliciously, you feel yourself steadily reaching your climax. 

Eddie presses soft and sweet kisses up your neck and side of your face as you chant his name over and over again, the tenderness pushing you over the edge. Moaning out into the quiet house, your wave of pleasure crashes over you, sparks dancing in your vision. The clenching of your already tight walls around him has Eddie following you over the edge. His hips stutter once, twice before he’s releasing into the condom, fingers helping you through your own orgasm. Your boyfriend’s groans make the warm feeling in your tummy last even longer, thinking there could be nothing sexier in this world than the sounds Eddie makes. 

Once he’s spent, having spilled every bit of cum you’ve milked from him into the condom, Eddie drops his head into the crook of your neck and lets some of his body weight rest on you. Having him on top of you like this felt almost as wonderful as having him inside of you. You feel safe and loved with Eddie’s skin pressed against yours like this. His sweat melts with yours and both of you have matching smiles on your faces as you try to catch your breaths. 

“I love you,” Eddie says.

“I love you too,” you tell him. His smile grows when you brush some of his damp hair from his forehead, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you, the pair of you hissing at the loss together. He rolls himself onto the floor and you giggle, turning your head to look down at your boyfriend. 

“You’re the cutest,” you say.

“That title is taken by you, angel.” Eddie throws a wink your way before slipping the condom off and tying off the end. He pushes himself up off the floor and presses a kiss to your lips before going to toss the used condom away. 

Stretching out on the couch, you let your muscles loosen for a moment before sitting up. Grabbing your panties from the floor, you slip back into them and scoop up your bra and dress.

“I’m gonna go change,” you call to Eddie in the kitchen before heading towards the stairs. 

Eddie comes back into the living room, wiping the remaining sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He hops back into his boxers and jeans, tossing his leather jacket over an armchair before he slips his Iron Maiden shirt back over his head. You come back into the room, an old pair of Eddie’s sweatpants hung low on your hips and your softest sweater keeping you warm. Eddie drops down onto the couch and you plop down next to him. When you turn your head to smile up at him, he feels his head go fuzzy and his stomach trembles like he’s swallowed a vibrator. 

“What?” you ask of the shy look on his face. 

“Nothing,” he says, looking into your eyes. “I’m just really in love with you. And you have gorgeous eyes.”

You let out a giggle as you feel yourself getting flustered. 

“You’re one to talk about gorgeous eyes,” you say. 

He grins and slides an arm around your shoulders, melting into your touch when the soft sweater meets the skin of his arm. You tuck your hands up in the long green sleeves of the sweater and lean into his side. 

“I love this sweater, too,” Eddie says. “You should wear it to school tomorrow.”

“Eddie, you would get detention before the end of homeroom.”

“Why?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“You wouldn’t keep your hands off of me,” you say with a laugh. “It seems to be a magical sweater that just draws your hands in.”

He gives an overly dramatic roll of his eyes and wraps both arms around you, hugging you and the sweater against his chest. 

“That’s nothing new, though. Mr. Martin is used to it by now,” Eddie says of your homeroom teacher. 

“I guess as long as your hands don’t slip under the sweater it will be okay.”

“Nah,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’ll leave that for second period.”

Eddie can’t stop looking or thinking about your picture in the centerfold for days. Gareth knows better than to mention it, and if he told the other guys, they’re smart enough not to say anything either. Every song they play at every show reminds him of you in some way. His mind even makes leaps to connect you with songs that have nothing to do with love or heartbreak at all. You haven’t invaded his mind this consistently for nearly a decade. 

The show tonight in New York City is one of the largest crowds that Corroded Coffin has had in a while and Eddie is finding it harder to care than he usually would. He lives for big crowds, but his heart hasn’t been in the music for the past few days. The rest of the band could tell, but again, wouldn’t say anything to him about it.

Eddie knows that whatever is going on with him has to do with you, but he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is that’s bothering him. It’s not the fact that you’re in the centerfold; Eddie knows you’re a grown woman and can make your own decisions. Though he is curious what led you from shy book worm to the hottest centerfold he’s ever seen. He’s a big enough man to admit that he’s a little jealous that others get to see you like he once did, but that’s not what’s really getting to him. The more he tries to figure it out, the more the reason seems to evade him. 

After the sound check and before show time, Eddie walks into the green room to see Jeff lounging on the couch, his girlfriend perched on his lap.

“Hey, Kathy!” Eddie greets her with a smile. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 

“Neither did Jeff,” she says with a giggle.

“She surprised me,” Jeff explains, a giddy smile on his face as he squeezes his girlfriend in his arms. 

Eddie takes a seat at the small table in the room, a bowl of pretzels waiting there. His thick fingers pull a few out and as he’s popping them in his mouth, he notices Jeff and Kathy with their heads together, whispering and laughing. An odd feeling rolls through Eddie’s stomach and that’s when it finally hits him. He misses you. Sure, he’s had girlfriends since you’d been together, and he’s even fallen in love since then too. And maybe when he’d been with those girls he’d thought it felt different than when he was with you, but he’d just assumed that was because you were his first love. Didn’t people say that’s something that always stays with you? But maybe it was something more than that. 

“You ready?”

Gareth’s voice breaks Eddie from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at his bandmate standing in the doorway. Gareth is looking between Eddie and Jeff, raising his eyebrows at them like they forgot they had a show to put on. Jeff gives Kathy one last kiss before he and Eddie follow their friend out, headed towards the stage.

It’s a great show. Something always felt different playing in New York City and tonight was no exception. The crowd seemed louder; the music seemed to pump through Eddie’s veins with every chord. He flung his pick into the audience after the set, and the screaming girl who caught it made him laugh. Nothing like New York. 

“Dude,” Grant says as Eddie’s inhaling a bottle of water back in the green room. He just raises his eyebrows at his friend while he continues chugging. “Party a few blocks over. It sounds pretty fucking amazing.”

I really don’t want to party, Eddie thinks. What the fuck, dude? He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. Since when do you not want to go to an after party? Get it the fuck together.

“Uh, sure,” Eddie says. “Just let me get changed.” 

The party is in some penthouse that has way too many bodies and not nearly enough ventilation in it. Eddie walks in with his friends and Kathy, eyes scanning the place to see where he can grab a drink. There’s a bar over in the corner with a few bartenders on duty. Eddie tries to imagine any of the parties he went to in high school having an actual bartender. 

He makes his way over and orders a Whiskey Highball, Gareth right behind him ordering a Jack and Coke. Once they’ve got their drinks, Gareth spots a girl that he's “just got to talk to” and leaves Eddie standing there by himself. Letting out a sigh, Eddie makes his way into the room, eyes taking in the different people drinking, talking, making out, laughing, all under the shitty dim lighting coming from somewhere; Eddie couldn’t even figure out where from. 

A girl approaches him, and he flips the switch to turn on his charm. Eddie takes in her long legs, her dark skin, and mini dress she’s wearing that looks completely made up of sequins. It’s a lot, but the dim lighting is keeping the glare from hitting him in the eyes. 

“You look familiar,” the girl says.

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe you’ve seen my band play.”

“Hmm, so drummer?” she asks. 

“Guitarist.” Eddie acts like he’s offended, placing his hand on his chest. “You think these talented fingers are only used for holding drumsticks?” 

She giggles and Eddie can’t help but notice how pretty her smile is. She’s a pretty girl in general, but her smile is her best feature. 

“I’m Eddie.” 

She introduces herself and his stomach drops when she introduces herself with the same first name that you have. 

“T-That’s a nice name,” Eddie says, game completely thrown off at this point. 

“Thanks!” She continues to talk but Eddie doesn’t hear a word she’s saying. All he’s thinking about is how to get out of this conversation because there’s no way he can deal with spending time with someone who has the same name as you. He doesn’t know why, he just knows he can’t do it. 

When she finishes speaking, Eddie sends her an apologetic look.

“I’m so sorry, but I actually just saw someone that I need to talk to.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says with her pretty smile. “Maybe I’ll see you in a little while?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. No, Eddie thinks. 

He tries to find one of his friends to talk to, just in case she was watching, Eddie didn’t want her to think he was trying to ditch her. Even though he kind of was. But none of his band mates are in sight so Eddie settles for claiming an empty seat he’s spotted on a purple couch near the large windows exposing the New York Skyline, all lit up in the darkness. 

There’s a woman sitting next to Eddie, and she turns to give him a smile. Her hair is even curlier than his is and he admits he finds that impressive. 

“Hi,” she says, leaning into his space. Eddie’s never minded a woman coming into his personal space, though.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He leans against the back of the couch and crosses one leg over the other, the hand not holding his glass resting on his booted ankle. 

“What brings you to the party?” the woman asks, batting her dark eyelashes over her bright hazel eyes. 

“My friends, honestly. We finished our show and they said we had to come.”

“Show? Are you on Broadway?”

Eddie laughs at this because the mental image of him on a stage dressed like a singing cat springs to mind.

“Nah, I’m in a band. We just played a show a few blocks over,” he says. 

“Are you the lead singer?” she asks with a knowing smile.

“And lead guitarist,” Eddie says, holding his drink up as if he’s going to make a toast. She laughs and Eddie can’t help himself from asking. “I’m sorry, but, what’s your name?”

“Johnna.”

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.”

They start talking about being in the city, as she’s only visiting as well for an art exhibit. Eddie’s finished his drink and is moving to set it on the table in front of the couch when movement through the crowd of people catches his eye. He looks up and is stunned to his seat. His jaw drops open and he blinks his eyes a few times to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. Between two groups of people talking, standing about twenty feet away, is his angel. Eddie isn’t sure how long he’s staring before Johnna waves her hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Earth to Eddie?”

He’s snapped out of his trance and looks to Johnna hesitantly, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a moment. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie says. He bites his lip and glances back to make sure you’re still there; that he didn’t dream you up. “Um, I'm really sorry but I see someone over there I haven’t seen in almost ten years. I’ve got to go say hi.”

Johnna looks disappointed, but she nods her head. He gives her a grateful smile before he pushes himself off the purple couch and through the tightening crowd. You’ve moved from where you previously were but it’s not hard to find you in the crowd, his eyes instinctually brought to the back of your head, that sight of familiar beautiful hair. The silky emerald dress you’re wearing sways with every step you take and his eyes are drawn to the backs of your thighs. As perfect as he remembers.

Too many people keep darting in his pathway to you, making him lose his patience a little more each time. Fuck it, he decides. He’s shooting his shot. He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts your name. 

You freeze on the spot, as if your heels had stepped in crazy glue. That voice. That voice calling your name. You’d know it anywhere, even in a packed party. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart, you turn around and your heart not only disobeys you by continuing to race, but it also feels like it’s going to leap out of your chest and fly across the room to the one person it’s always belonged to. 

“Eddie.” His name on your lips sparks all the memories flooding back. All the makeout sessions in the back of his van, all the times you sat at the closest table to the stage when the guys had gigs at The Hideout. The way he always seemed to know when you were having a bad day and would show up to final period with flowers that he somehow managed to get. He’d never spilled his secrets on how he got them, no matter how many times you’d asked. 

Eddie finally makes his way to you, and you can’t help but just stare at his wide brown eyes and frizzy curls when he stands before you. He looks older, more mature, but he’s still the same beautiful boy you shared your first everything with. The same way he’s shoving his hands into his pockets because he’s nervous. Same smile and the same look from underneath his eyelashes. You feel like you’re going to melt. Was it always this hot in here?

“You’re here,” you say. Duh, obviously, you think to yourself. 

“And you’re here.” 

“H-How are you?” you ask. Okay, it’s definitely getting hotter in the room. 

“I’m good,” Eddie says with a smile. That smile was always your undoing and it was proving to have the same effect all these years later. “How are you?”

“Good,” you say, finding yourself getting lost in his eyes. Nothing has changed since you were 15, has it? 

The music somehow gets turned up even higher and it has you wincing.

“Do you want to go outside?” Eddie offers, gesturing towards the door. You nod and head in that direction, Eddie’s hand coming to the small of your back as if no time has passed at all. 

Your hearing is still muffled as you two stumble out onto the sidewalk in front of the building. The city’s streets were never silent, but this was far preferable to the deafening bass upstairs. 

“So, what are you doing here?” you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself in the brisk night air. Eddie doesn’t miss a thing and instantly shrugs out of his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. It shouldn’t make you feel as tingly as it does, but you can’t help but smile as you’re enveloped by its warmth and its familiar smell of Eddie. You hold it tighter against your body.

“We, uh, just played a show a few blocks over,” Eddie says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the venue.

“Really?” you ask, eyes wide. “If I had known I would’ve been front row. Still know all the lyrics.” You give him a proud smirk.

“Even the new ones?” he challenges, raising his eyebrows playfully. 

“Of course,” you say. “You think I don’t buy Corroded Coffin albums the day they drop? I’m no fake fan.”

Eddie laughs and reaches up to scratch the back of his head. The sound goes straight to your heart, his laughter making it soar. 

“I, uh, guess I should tell you I’ve seen your latest work, too.”

“Oh! Really?” The only difference Eddie sees between you then and now is the fact that you’re not blushing right now. High school you would’ve looked like a tomato if Eddie even suggested taking a sexy Polaroid of you. Didn’t stop you from saying yes eventually, though. 

“To be totally honest,” Eddie starts with a nervous chuckle. “Gareth saw it first and gave it to me. Or maybe I confiscated it.”

“Thank you for that,” you answer with a nervous giggle of your own. “The thought of Gareth seeing that feels weird. Nothing you haven’t seen before, though.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I don’t think you had that negligee when we were dating.”

His cheeky grin makes you giggle again, and you take a step towards him. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” You want his honest answer. Obviously, you had no problem with it, seeing as you’d done it, but you knew there would be people who didn’t approve. 

“Weird? No, not at all. Was I surprised? Hell yes. I mean, my angel is the centerfold.”

A smile lights up your face and you take another step closer to him. 

“I haven’t been called that since you.”

“What, angel?”

“Yeah. But I’m glad. Anyone else calling me that would’ve felt weird. That’s your name for me.”

“And I’ve never called anyone else it,” Eddie says, making you emotional in a way you didn’t expect. “I’m curious, though,” Eddie starts, too nervous to meet your eyes in case you take his question the wrong way. “How’d you get into…that?”

“Oh, well in my senior year of college I dated a photography student. He used me for a project – clothes on – and he got an A. Then there was a photography competition he wanted to enter, and since I brought him luck last time, he asked if I’d do it again. This one was less clothing, but still decent. He won that contest and his pictures appeared in a magazine. The people from that magazine then called and wanted me, not my boyfriend, to work for them.”

“And how’d that go?” Eddie asks with a chuckle.

You roll your eyes. “He was such a baby about it. It’s not like I asked them. He was so petty and jealous that he broke up with me. I didn’t really care though, because I felt like I’d finally seen his true colors. Anyway, the magazine had me model for a couple of issues. Mostly clothes or promo pictures for a restaurant or club or something. And so, one of the photographers at this magazine was also working for XXXTRA and knew they were looking for someone new for their centerfold. So, he showed them my picture and they asked me to do it.”

“Were you scared?” Eddie asks. His hand is fighting the urge to reach out and grab yours. 

“Yeah,” you admit with a laugh. “I didn’t want to make a career out of this, it was just an easy job that kind of fell in my lap. The centerfold would’ve been the most I’d made modeling up to that point, so I figured what the hell? I’ve always been a good, quiet girl so I thought it’d be kind of funny to think of people looking at that picture of me and imagining I’m some wild, risk-taking woman.”

“So, what’re you doing now?” Eddie asks and you shrug.

“Not sure. I got my degree in English, so I’ve been thinking of going into writing.”

“Oh, you totally should,” Eddie says, getting excited at the idea. “You always wrote the best stories in Mrs. Thompson’s class.” 

Eddie’s compliment has your face warming and it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. Eddie looks at you and sees his girl, completely and wholly. 

“You never told me why you’re in New York,” Eddie says.

“Oh, yeah! One of my best friends from college had her opening night on Broadway tonight. We came here after the opening night party.”

“That’s pretty cool. Was the show good?”

“It really was! I hope it’s not one of those ones that just doesn't get the recognition it deserves.”

“What’s it called?” Eddie asks.

“Rent.”

“Huh. Weird name.”

“Says the guy who came up with the name Corroded Coffin.” Your smirk makes Eddie want to pull you into his arms and kiss all over your face. 

“How long are you in town?” you ask Eddie.

“Bus leaves tomorrow afternoon. Gotta head to Philly next. What about you?”

“Flying home tomorrow, too,” you say.

“Where’s home now?”

“Hawkins.” You say the town’s name with a smile, and it makes Eddie think back fondly on the town as well. 

“Home sweet home,” Eddie says. 

“Listen, um…” You bite your lip, nervous in front of Eddie for the first time since…well, probably your first time. “I don’t know if you have a girlfriend or something, but if you don’t, do you maybe want to get breakfast together in the morning? Catch up?”

“No girlfriend,” Eddie says, taking a step to close the ever-shrinking gap between the two of you. “And I would love to have breakfast with you. Hell, I’d sit on the sidewalk and eat a soft pretzel from that cart down there just to spend time with you.”

His favorite blush in the world comes to your cheeks and Eddie wonders how he ever lived without that in his life. 

“Well, my rental car is right there,” you say, nodding your head towards a black Toyota. “That’s probably more comfortable than the sidewalk.”

“You rented a car in New York City?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

“I rented that car from Boston and drove it here, thank you very much.”

“Why were you – oh shit, were you visiting Nancy and Steve? Meet the new baby?”

“I sure did,” you say with a bright grin. “Little Elliot already has his daddy’s hair.” 

“Poor kid,” Eddie teases. You chuckle and reach out to grab his hand with yours. He laces his fingers with yours and it just feels right. Natural. Like it’s only been hours since you’d held one another's hands and not years. 

“Come on,” you say and tug Eddie in the direction of your car. Once you’re both inside, the question that’s been begging to be asked finally slips out.

“Do you, uh, want to come back to my hotel room?” 

Eddie takes in your nervous expression, like you’re afraid he’ll say no. He takes in your green dress, your gorgeous eyes, and everything he’s been missing. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Unless you’re too eager and need to take me in the back of your car?”

The memory of you saying something very similar to him in high school makes you laugh as you turn the key to start the ignition. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you answer. 

The next morning you both decide to forgo breakfast. Another round of sex and cuddling takes precedence over food. And sleep, seeing as you both got less than three hours of sleep the whole night. Much of it was spent talking, catching up on what’s happened in the years since you’ve been together. Admissions of you both thinking of each other often over the years and heartfelt confessions that both of you want this to be something more than just a one-night reunion. You can write from the road if you want, Eddie tells you. He even promises to buy you the fanciest typewriter to keep on the tour bus. It sounds perfect. Being with Eddie everyday sounds like a dream come true. 

The sun is peeking in through the curtain of the hotel room, rays casting over the white blankets you and Eddie are curled up underneath. Heads facing each other on the same pillow, Eddie’s hand cups the side of your face and strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. You two had celebrated all your firsts together. First kiss, first relationship, first time having sex, first heartbreak. Even just last night you’d had another first together when you’d forgone the condom because you wanted to feel one another as close as possible. It was the first time either of you had that complete skin to skin contact during sex. 

Eddie wants all the firsts and onlys with you. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. Only fiancé. Another kiss. Only husband. Another kiss. Only father of your children. Another kiss. Only love of your life. 

[hausofmingi]

his good girl - chapter 1

pairing: song mini x stripper!reader

tags: stripper au, smut series

warnings: slight mentions of stalker, bad words (tee hee), dom!mingi, sub!reader, riding, daddydom!mingi, finger sucking, being carried and getting fucked, a bit of physical roughness (reader receiving), degradation but also praise, cum eating (off the floor!), aftercare

wc: 3.8 k

an: so I decided to give the reader a name because that feels more realistic to me as a reader than y/n. I find that sometimes reading "y/n" takes me out of it a little, so lmk if you find this helpful as well! Also, I am a little depraved so right off the bat, this gets very crazy kinky

minors dni!! 18+ only!!

“Where is the red garter belt I let you borrow?” You are racing around your and Lina’s small apartment, trying to prepare for yet another night on the job. 

“I don’t know, I may have left it at the club?” Lina answers from the bathroom. 

Red is his favorite. You don’t want to disappoint. 

“Well great Lina thanks for that, I’m never letting you borrow my shit again.” 

“Love you too!” she calls after you as you leave to go shopping. It’s not like you’re against making another trip to get some new pieces, but why do you always make the same mistake in letting Lina borrow your favorite stuff…

Your’s and Lina’s apartment is in a pretty run down building in an unsafe part of Gangnam, but no matter how shitty it is, its yours and you really want it to feel like home. 

But, that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pair of eyes watching you as you exit out of your apartment building and walk towards the bus stop. 

You have been noticing that lately, the feeling that someone is watching you. When you leave your house, when you’re at the grocery store, while you’re going on a run. You try and brush it off because this is normal for women and all that, but today, you pay just a little harder attention. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure in a black hood (Jacket? Coat? You don’t want to look too hard) standing across the street from your apartment building. You walk a little faster to the bus stop just in case. 

That night, after spending more than you should on new lingerie sets, you and Lina are about to take the stage for your first stage set. It’s almost midnight, which is usually the time he makes his appearance. 

You always get butterflies, but not the stage fright normal kind of butterflies, the kind that make your clit perk up and your nipples harden. 

Why do you always get so worked up over a man who hasn’t even fucked you?, you think as you make your way up to the stage. 

You really have become quite the pro at this. After 4 years of working for this club, your boss has dubbed you his favorite girl. Doyeon always protects you and gives you the most popular customers, knowing you will always keep them coming back. 

You always thought it felt nice to be appreciated, especially knowing he didn’t have any intentions of coming onto you, on account of he’s a flaming fruitcake.

Its a good ways into your set, and his table still sits empty. You feel the sweat start to form on your back, but try to stay in your routine. 

Why isn’t he here? Where could he be instead? Did his company find out he was doing this? 

You always got scared that it might be leaked that idols come here, knowing the sasaengs stalker habits. Mingi, being a part of one of the biggest Korean boy groups, Ateez, must have a large number of crazy fans following him. 

Did they find out and tip the press to show up here? You didn’t see anyone outside though… Your mind runs rampant with all of the reasons that it could possibly be as you walk off stage and collect your tips from the stage manager. 

Tears start to threaten to spill, and you think you are crazy yet again to be this affected by a man you haven’t even had a conversation with. 

On the way home, Lina can tell you’re bothered and nudges your side as you walk home. 

“So you know how Taehyun has been requesting me a lot? Well he mentioned his upcoming tour tonight, I think he might finally take me along with them!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just saying that so you’ll suck him off some more.” you say. 

“Well damn… What’s got you all worked up honey?” She always called you honey when she was trying to comfort you. 

“Mingi didn’t come tonight..” you admit. 

“On a Thursday? That’s… super out of character. Well don’t worry, I’m sure practice just went long or he has an early morning schedule or….” her talking trails off as you dissociate. 

Lina has always been a nice friend, agreeing to move in with you without knowing you very well, trying her best to always cheer you up. It’s not her fault you felt like you guys were never really close. You give her props for trying though. 

You pull out your phone and check his bubble and instagram, seeing if maybe they could give you some clues. Nothing. 

You fall asleep that night thinking of the last time his fingers swiped your lip, hoping it wasn’t the last.

—

The next night at the club is gloomy. Even though it’s a Friday, attendance is lower and your energy is even lower. 

The feeling of someone watching you has been bothering you all day, but the guy in the hood has yet to make an appearance. You are just looking forward to curling up in your bed tonight and continually refreshing Mingi’s bubble messages. 

The stage manager calls for everyone to get onstage for the final number and the other girls rush out. You take your time though, not feeling like getting in a rush for this menial thing. 

You hang your head in your hands, covering your eyes and taking a breath. Just get through it, he’s just a man, you try to remind yourself. 

A smell reaches you, like a really expensive cologne. Musky and masculine, and somehow… dominant. 

You look up and standing in the doorway is him. He stands as if he owns the place, hands in his pocket, opting for a fitted vest tonight in lieu of a jacket. 

And he’s staring you down, studying you intently. If it was anyone else, you would feel the need to cover yourself and apologize. But not with him. 

You probably look like a dumbass, staring at him through the mirror with your mouth slightly open. 

He speaks first. “You were worried.” It’s a question but he doesn’t need an answer. 

“Yes,” is all you can manage to squeak out. 

He leans against the doorway, messing with his shirt cuff. You still haven’t moved, frozen in place. How did he get in here, past the security guard? How did he know which dressing room you were in? Was he the person in the hood you noticed this morning? He must be stalking you… Why doesn’t that bother you more? 

He notices your anxiety moving through you. “Don’t worry, I just know the security guard. He owed me a favor. I’m not a stalker” he responds, as if he read your mind.

“That’s… good” you say. 

He drops his arms and strides towards you, slowly as to not spook you. “Well thank you for worrying about me. I’m okay, for now. But, here’s the problem my love,” he draws his finger up your arm, making your hair stand up and bumps form. “You may be in trouble.” 

You aren’t sure what he means. “What kind of trouble?” you ask. “Like legal trouble?” 

You are afraid that maybe one of the idols ratted this place out and the feds are going to come knocking down your door and take you all away. Would Mingi still visit you in jail? Surely not, there’s no lap dances there… 

He sticks his finger under your chin and pushes it up to make you look at him. Drip. 

“Please stop letting your mind get ahead of you, baby. Let daddy speak.” DRIP. 

“A sasaeng has been getting very close to you. Too close. I can’t let you get hurt.” Awe, he wants to protect you. DRIP DRIP DRIPPING. 

“How did they find me?” you ask. 

He leans against the counter as he continues, “I am not sure, I don’t even know how much they know. Sasaengs are insane people with insane complexes. This one has been stalking me since pre-debut. But I’ve always been careful that she doesn’t see me come in here. So how she knows that you are important to me, I don’t know…” IMPORTANT TO HIM??? 

Okay you’ll have to throw these underwear out at this point. 

“So what do I need to do then? To protect myself I mean” you ask him. 

“Nothing, I want you to do absolutely nothing and let me handle it. But in the meantime, you can’t go back to your apartment.” 

Hate to say it, but fine by you. Maybe you’ll save some money by not having to replace your stolen shit anymore.

“Where will I go instead?” you ask. 

“You’ll come stay with me.” Jesus Christ, 20 year old you would be freaking the fuck out. But, it doesn’t make you freak out, in that way at least. 

“What about Lina, what about my job? I can’t live with you, much less San and Seonghwa. I’ll never see you. What if you have to travel for schedules? I’m just supposed to stay in your dorm 24/7? I have a life! I barely even know you! You only ever say 4 words to me, and then fucking leave me in a puddle, how can I just-” 

His hand stroking the side of your cheek cuts you off. “Again with the mind racing, baby. I don’t want you to uproot your life, it will be temporary. I have my own apartment now too, so we won’t be with other members. It will only be until we are 100% sure you are safe to be alone. I will take care of you, I promise.” he reassures. 

You lean into the hand that holds your head, a few tears falling into it. You finally get the courage to look up at him, making eye contact. He has dropped his heavy, dominant demeanor. Instead, his eyes hold only comfort and concern. 

Maybe he wasn’t kidding; maybe you really are important to him. 

After a minute of silence, “Okay, so what do I need to do right now?” you ask.

“Change and pack up your stuff, we are going to the apartment. Make a list of what all you need from your apartment when we get home and I will send a staff to collect it all in the morning.” 

“And take a breath, princess.” You unclench your jaw, which you didn’t even realize was clenched. He kisses your forehead before reaching down to grab your duffle bag that you carry your things in. 

You think in silence as you pack. Take a breath he says… he will protect me he says… Why me? Why is protecting me, a stripper, just some stripper that he barely speaks to. He doesn’t even know my real name…

“Yes I do,” he says from the chair he has sat down in to wait for you. Oops, you must’ve said that part outloud. 

“It’s Cora.” You like the way he flips the “r” of your American name with his Korean accent. 

“How do you know that?” he ignores you. “How do you know I used to live with San and Seonghwa?” “Touche…” you respond.

“All done?” he asks. You nod. He crosses to you and starts stroking your arms to comfort you. 

“I want you to remember though, you still have to be a good girl for me at the apartment, can you do that?” 

You look up at him through your eyelashes, surprised that he still is holding this up even at a time like this. Is it all an act, or is it truly how he is? Either way, you are turned on once again. 

“Yes..” you respond. He cocks his eyebrow, questioning your answer. 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes… daddy.”

“There’s my good girl.”

With his hand on your back, he guides you out of the dressing room and out the back door, where a black hatchback with tinted windows is waiting. He holds open the door for you, and helps you into the car. If only other men treated all their strippers like this…

The car ride home (whatever home means at the moment) is very silent. He has his hand on your thigh the entire way, the other staying steady on the wheel. His thumb rubs back and forth, another attempt at comfort you’re guessing. It works, sort of. 

Just smelling him and being near him your body is relaxed, knowing he will take care of you and wanting to give yourself to him. It’s like you are under his spell, which is crazy. You are usually so independent and self-sufficient. What about him makes you want to grant his every wish? 

“Shouldn’t you be blindfolding me, so I won’t know where your apartment is and so I won’t run away and all that?” you ask, kind of joking. 

“You won’t” he says while keeping his eyes on the road, fully confident in his answer. 

He’s probably right. 

–

Finally you reach the apartment. You almost drifted off to sleep, even though the drive was only about 20 minutes. He parks right outside the front door of the building and gets out to open your door for you. He offers his hand to help you out of the car. It’s much appreciated because you are still in your platform heels, just throwing a coat over your outfit you were going to wear to perform in. 

He keeps his hand on your back as you walk up to the doors, through the lobby, and up the elevator. It’s a really nice building with a concierge and fresh flowers all over. Sometimes you forget how big Ateez really is, and figure that Mingi bought this place with his own money. 

You wonder if he has neighbors on his floor. Do they know he lives next to them? Does he talk to his neighbors at all? Do they know that he is having his own personal stripper move in with him?

They’re gonna know now, from how loud you are being. 

How you ended up riding him in his dining room chair about 15 minutes later, you’re not so sure. 

—

He was going slow, too slow, slow enough that you could feel every. single. inch. 

You tried to grind your hips and get him in deeper, but the tight hold he had on your asscheek lets you know that even though you are on top, you are not in control. 

His other hand is holding your face, his thumb hooked in your mouth. You suck and gag on it as much as you can, but it’s hard to focus when he is going this slow. 

You felt high, things were getting foggy. All you knew is that you wanted to please him. 

“My beautiful girl, doing so well. You were waiting for this for a long time weren’t you?” his deep voice sends sparks to your clit and makes you even wetter, if that’s even possible. 

You can only close your eyes and nod. You want to throw your head back, but his hand on your cheek and thumb in your mouth keeps it facing forward. “Now baby, what did I say? Eyes. on. me.” 

He jerks your head a bit, just to make you a little scared. 

You know he would never hurt you. 

Unless you asked. 

You open your eyes like a good girl. How could you not be a good girl for him? 

His breath catches when you make eye contact with him again. His eyes bare into your soul, never breaking. 

You whimper a little when the head of his cock catches someplace you have never felt before. He smirks, knowing. He hits it again, making the upper half of your body keen forward, his thumb slipping out of your mouth. 

Your hands, which were bracing on the back of the chair, move down to his pecs. You are desperate for him, desperate for that feeling that release you dreamt about him giving you. 

You start to bounce since he let go of you, letting his arms hang down and his head fall back in pleasure. You are doing that to him. You are making him let go. 

You grind his cockhead up against your g-spot over and over again, drooling down his neck. 

You wish you could see what you guys look like, his giant body draped over the chair in ecstasy, you sat on his thick thighs bouncing on his perfect cock, licking up and down his neck. 

You’re close, really close, and your walls start to constrict down on his cock. His eyes shoot open and he jerks his head up at the feeling. 

“Hold on princess,” he practically growls at you. 

Hold onto what? You think. 

He grabs underneath your thighs, holding his hands behind your back and lifts the both of you out of the chair with him still inside of you. 

Oh my god, holy shit. 

This was too good, you couldn’t have even dreamt this up. 

You wrap your hands around his neck and he pummels into you as fast as he can, hitting your g-spot every single time as if he has memorized the angle. The sound of his balls hitting your ass covers your cries of his name. 

“Fucking. Take it.” he says, his forehead touching yours. He has essentially lost control of his body, just bouncing you wildly up and down his cock. 

It’s coming, It’s coming. Please, please, please, “please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, if you’re even talking out loud. You feel like you are losing your grip on reality, its so so close. 

He stills inside of you, leaving his cock right on the spot you need the most. He just shallowly thrusts, just rubbing your g-spot with his cockhead. Holy shit, it feels like fucking heaven. 

“Now,” he commands. 

And you obey. 

You flutter around him, feeling how his shallow thrusts stutter when you cum. You don’t stop for at least a full minute. 

“Thank you thank you thank you, oh fuck, thank you daddy” is all you can say as your clit jumps in ecstasy. 

His eyebrows are furrowed together, he’s close too. Right as your orgasm tapers out, you tighten your thighs around him and give him 3 bounces. That’s all he needs. 

He pulls you off of him just as he’s cumming, holding you away from him so you can watch the cum drip out of his cock and onto the floor. It’s so beautiful, you think. 

He sets your legs down on the floor, but they can’t hold you up and you fall to your knees. You can barely see straight, and you can’t catch your breath. Holy shit he may really have fucked the shit out of you. 

You keep your eyes turned to the ground while you try and slow your heart, but you see him start to squat down to your level. He picks up your chin with his hand to look up at him. “Baby… you need to clean up your mess.” 

“Wh..What?” you stutter. 

He stands up straight again, looming over you with his giant presence. “Clean it up.” his gaze falls to the ground and yours follows. 

Oh… you get it now. 

Not breaking eye contact, you lean your head down. You stick out your tongue and lick up the cum that he let fall to the floor, as well as some from you that you didn’t even realize had dripped down. He smiles. 

You feel like a pet, like a slave. 

You fucking love it. 

“That’s my good girl.” he praises you. You wipe off your mouth and look up at him through your eyelashes. He squats back down to your level, seeming to have fallen for your puppy dog eyes. 

“Does my baby need help getting cleaned up?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

He bends down to pick you up, which he does with ease, as if you weighed nothing. He guides your legs to wrap around him and he carries you into the bathroom. 

He sets you down to sit on the toilet and turns on the shower to start heating up. Why do you feel so dizzy? You gaze can’t focus. 

“Cora… don’t pass out on me my love.” he holds your face in his hands. 

“What do you need baby?” you grab onto his wrist to try and steady yourself. 

“Just a minute… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, take your time.”

He strokes your hair as you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself. 

“Is the shower ready?” you ask. 

“Yes my love, whenever you are.”

“Will you help me?” you ask.

“Of course” he says as he starts guiding you towards the shower door. 

He lets you step in first and before you can protest that you can shower on your own, he steps in behind you. 

It's a really big shower, with beautiful blue tiles and a detachable shower head. Detachable? Huh…

You lean into his chest, your head barely meeting the middle of it due to his height. One of his arms wraps around your body while the other starts to shampoo your hair. 

Why do you already feel so comfortable with him? As if you have been showering together for years. You literally just licked this man’s cum off the floor and have no remorse about it. Should you feel guilty? 

Nah, you kind of just feel like bragging to other Atiny’s on Twitter. I sucked his beautiful cock!! Suckers!!! Probably wouldn’t be the best idea…

After washing the rest of your body and getting you out of the shower and making sure you brushed your teeth, you are now tucked into his extremely comfortable bed. You don’t usually sleep naked, but it seems right when he is too. 

You turn to face him in the bed. He was already staring at you, it seems. 

“You know, I wasn’t expecting us to fuck right off the bat..” you admit. 

“Me neither, but I am not surprised. It’s hard to resist you.”

“You’ve been resisting me for the past 6 months. You know I always craved more from you.”

“Yes I did know. But I didn’t want to enjoy you in such a public space. I just craved being around you. Its hard to resist you, though, princess. Just know that.”

I guess that makes me feel better, but still… so many things unanswered.

“I know you are probably questioning a lot of things. Just try and get some sleep tonight, okay my love?” he asks. 

“Okay..” you agree in a small voice, knowing that you will wake up tomorrow with even more unanswered questions. 

“Good girl.” He curls his arm around your middle and tucks you into his side, kissing your forehead before drifting to sleep. 

He smells like the same cologne he was wearing earlier tonight. Beautiful, musky, and masculine. You let yourself drift to sleep, breathing him in.

OKAY I DID IT MY FIRST CHAPTER. plz reblog and like.

[spaceagebachelormann]

Alright, last one, I promise!!

Could I please request headcanons for all the Ride the Cyclone kids finding out their S/O is getting bullied, and how they would react? I would love to see what you do with something like this!!

Thanks in advance, and I hope you’re doing well!! 🖤🖤🖤

the choir finding out their s/o is being bullied

pairing: st. cassian chamber choir x gn reader

warnings: bullying (obviously), everyone destroying your bullys life, wounds, fights (cough mischa and penny cough)

a/n: i love writing for rtc sm

masterlist

Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg

jaw drops when she sees someone bothering you

really upset you didn’t tell her

she’s very popular and every teachers favourite student, she could’ve helped you!! :((

comforts you afterwards, still a bit angry you didn’t tell anyone about how you were being bullied, but she understands you may have gotten pressured into it

let’s you vent to her <3

will destroy the reputation of the person/people who bullied you

is so mad and makes sure they’re absolutely humiliated

Noel Gruber

also a bit annoyed you didn’t tell him

is understanding of why you didn’t however

doesnt force you to vent to him or tell him what happened, let’s you tell him that on your own and listens intently when you do

he’s the type to have dirt on everyone from being observant, so he plots something to use that against them

he makes sure to walk you home and always be near you in hallways in case someone comes to bother you

if they do he runs to your aid and calls them out on something embarrassing

they don’t even look at you again afterwards

Mischa Bachinski

his rage kicks in

you’ve never seen his face so red

storms up to your bully and just starts fuckin swinging and hitting

he has to be physically pulled off of them by like 15 people

a few mins later when he gets everyone to fuck off he drags you away to somewhere private

cleans up any wounds you may have

asks the important questions

how long has this been happening? does he need to go back and finish what he started? are you okay? do you need anything?

seems to always be around you after that day…

Ricky Potts

so shocked

at a loss for words

sits you down and asks if you wanna talk about it or if there’s anything he can do

so devastated to find this out

hes sad for the rest of the day :((

hugs you and takes you to various places to make you feel better <333

will 100% beat your bully(s) with his crutches or give them to mischa to beat them with <3

checks up with you between classes after finding out, always somehow bailing you out of school if you feel uncomfortable

Jane Doe/Penny Lamb

goes fucking feral

gently and calmly moves you away from them, before going at it

you knew she was a lil bit insane but not this insane

she’s biting, scratching, kicking, and punching all at the same time

mischa is standing there yelling words of encouragement and wiping tears away at how far his bestie has come

after that she checks on you to make sure you weren’t hurt in any way

if you were she goes back and finishes what she started <33

very scary, nobody messes with you ever again

Constance Blackwood

not the type to barge in and immediately defend you

but she’s there for emotional support afterwards <3

lets you cry into her shoulder, rubs your back, is really caring

she’s too shy to directly do anything about it, but luckily she friends with ocean and tells her what happened and because ocean is friends with everyone and loves you (because she’d 100% be friends with her friends s/o)

ocean…..gets them…. expelled… not what you wanted but it’s good enough!

if you still don’t feel safe after that, she walks you home and stuff (like noel) <33

[elliespassagerprincess]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

This story is not based off a song! It’s my own little idea:) This is a very dark story, so please read the warnings to make sure you’re up for it…

Pairing: modern high school au!ellie x popular fem!reader

Requests are always open feel free to leave one! Or you can just send me a song and I’ll take it from there!

Warning: stalking, obsession, kidnapping, violence, death, mentions of lying next to a dead body and mass shootings, blood and suicide

Word count: 3.1k

 Summary: In which Ellie’s “small crush” turned into an obsession.

Ellie’s heartbeat raced, her palms suddenly felt sweaty, she felt dizzy. Her vision focused on the girl she was hopelessly in love with. Every time Ellie saw her, it’s like she falls in love all over again. Her name was y/n. A beautiful y/h/c, she had the prettiest y/e/c Ellie had ever seen. She was perfect in every way. Ellie was one of the many men and women that liked y/n. Why would someone as perfect as y/n ever look at someone like her. An autumn brown haired girl with freckles? You would never look at her. To say Ellie was in love with y/n was an understatement.

Ellie was infatuated with someone she could never have.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie Williams. Many people would describe her as a loner. “She’s a weird kid” someone once said “she doesn’t even interact with any of us. I didn’t even know she existed” and truth be told Ellie was a quite kid. A very quiet kid. She never spoke or interacted with anyone because she can’t stand most people. Due to Ellie’s unusual silence, many rumors were spread of the poor girl. The rumors were people’s way of trying to figure out who Ellie was, Ellie’s favorite rumor about herself was, that she was a mass shooter at her previous school. Today was like no other for Ellie. As she walked down the halls people were staring and whispering. She was used to it at this point. She walked into her first class of the and once again all eyes were on her.

 “You’re late again” her teacher grumbled. Ellie rolled her eyes as she walked past her teacher. As she sat down, she flinched a little due to how cold her chair was. Ellie didn’t even take out her school books because she didn’t care. She propped her head up with her right hand- trying not to fall asleep. Ellie soon zoned out staring at the two posters in front of the class. The posters were for the class presidents voting, that was happening in a few days. The only two people left in the running were Abby Anderson and y/n y/l/n. If Ellie had to be honest Abby’s poster looked way more professional yours. She started at your poster that was decorated in pink and purple flowers. There was no way y/n was going to win with a poster looking like that.

“Hey” a voice whispered

 “Hey!” the voice said once again.

Ellie turned around slowly, hoping to scare away whoever this person was. And to her surprise her eyes met with y/n.

‘since when does she sit behind me?’ Ellie thought to herself.

“Sorry to bother you, but can I please borrow a pencil? I promise to give it back” she asked in a hushed voice. Normally Ellie would turn around and ignore them, but for some odd reason she bent down to grab her bag and she pulled out a pencil. As Ellie reached out to give you the pencil, her fingertips slightly brushed against yours. As soon as Ellie felt your fingers, the hair at the back of her neck stood up, goosebumps arose on her skin. It felt like her hand was on fire. Ellie’s mouth went dry; her breathing became uneven. She looked up from her hand to meet your eyes. ‘‘Thank you” you said softly. You offered her a small smile “I’ll give it back soon”

Ellie sat in the school bathroom in awe. Even though the bathroom stall was small and it stank, Ellie sat there in awe. y/n. y/n y/l/n touched her hand. For the first time since she’s moved to Jackson, Ellie finally got a good look at you. Ellie saying you were beautiful was an insult. You were more than breathe taking. And your perfume- god your scent was intoxicating. Ellie’s mind was filled with many thoughts as she stared down at her hand. Once again the thought ran through her mind: y/n touched her hand.

Ellie let out a deep sigh as the bell rang. She threw her green and black backpack over her shoulder as she started walking to her class.

 “There you are” a voice said, Ellie immediately recognized the voice. y/n. Her y/n. When Ellie turned around she saw you walking towards her. You weren’t walking to anyone else, you were walking to her. As you were walking towards Ellie- as cliché as it sounds- everything around her went silent. She couldn’t focus on anything else but you walking towards her.

“Thanks for the pencil! You saved my life back there!” You said with a laugh

“She has a pretty laugh” Ellie thought to herself. Ellie stared at you with no emotion. She wasn’t trying to scare you away; she was trying to memorize your features. The way your lips curled when you laughed, the was your eyes closed, the way your laugh sounded. Normally Ellie would walk away. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. You said a quick goodbye and walked away. And Ellie stood there in shock. y/n spoke to her. You laughed at her. You touched her hand and you used her pencil.

And in this very moment everything began. The beginning of the end. This was the moment when Ellie Williams became infatuated with y/n y/l/n.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

It’s been 3 months since Ellie and y/n interacted for the first time, and Ellie has been smitten ever since. Ellie’s little crush on y/n soon grew out of control. It wasn’t even a crush. It was an obsession. An addiction. Ellie started off small, with quick glances from across the classroom or the cafeteria. Then Ellie memorized her class schedules and followed her to every class to make sure she got there safe. But suddenly everything became worse. Her obsession started to grow. Ellie started following y/n home, breaking into her house, stealing small things, watched her sleep, and stared at her from her window. Ellie became a stalker. In Ellie’s eyes what she was doing wasn’t wrong, because she wasn’t hurting anyone. Ellie saw her behavior as normal. When you’re in love, it makes you do crazy things, right?

Ellie was content with following y/n around until she found out there was another guy inserted in her. Her y/n. Her girl. And Ellie soon realized if she doesn’t do anything shell loose y/n to someone else. She had to get rid of him. Ellie once again sat in the small, stinky bathroom stall and thought of ways she could rid of him. Murder? Ellie could kill him. But what happens if she got caught? If she gets caught shell never be able to see y/n again. She was definitely not going to kill anyone. Her only solution was, was to ask y/n out before anyone else could.

It had been a few days since Ellie decided she would ask y/n out on a date. Ellie planned exactly how she was going to ask you. So when everyone was in class Ellie went to your locker, and left a note saying “meet me on the rooftop at 3 pm”.

Ellie has never been more nervous. She felt nauseous. Her hands were shanking as she stood on the rooftop watching all the students walk home.

 “Ellie?” She heard her girl call her.

Ellie took a deep breath as she picked up the flowers she put on the ground. You walked closer to her, and Ellie turned and quickly you the flowers without saying anything. You have her a questioning look, confused on why she just gave you flowers. Before you could ask anything Ellie quickly said the words: “will you go on date with me?” Ellie closed her eyes tightly in fear that you might reject her. Ellie felt your soft hand touch her face, her closed eyes immediately opened and widened at the gesture. And to Ellie’s surprise you said yes.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡

In all her years of living Ellie never thought she would be sitting across from you. Her girl. The prettiest girl she had ever seen. The love of her life. You wore a pretty pink dress that Ellie had seen in your closet the last time she was there. She has dreamed of seeing you in this dress now you were sitting across from her wearing it, just for her. Ellie was in awe of how beautiful you looked.

Your date went well. You told her things about yourself that she already knew by following you around and by breaking into your house- but you didn’t need to know that. You seemed happy and comfortable around her and that made Ellie happy. She didn’t want you to be scared of her like the others.

 And at some point during the date you reached across the table to grab her hand. Ellie was on cloud 9. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She felt like she was going to pass out. With her palms sweaty, heart racing and high on the scent of your perfume, Ellie got up to pay the bill.  Ellie’s plan was to take you on a nice walk through a private park, and she’ll ask you to be her girlfriend. And hopefully you’ll say yes. Ellie prayed to whichever god there was to: please let her say yes.

As Ellie and y/n walked to the park a cool breeze filled the air. y/n let out a shiver, and Ellie immediately took off her jacket and gave it to the girl walking next to her. Even after all y/n’s protests, she finally took the jacket and put it on thanking Ellie for the kind gesture. And a huge grin appeared on Ellie’s face. Her girl was wearing her jacket. When they finally reached the park Ellie realized that her shoe lace was untied. Ellie quickly apologized to her girl, and she bent down to tie it.

Ellie suddenly felt a warm liquid ran down the back of her head. Ellie fell face first into the ground. Her vision was blurry as she tried turning around. The last thing she remembers was your voice saying “its ok Ellie, just close your eyes” and suddenly everything went black.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Despite y/n’s popularity she always felt alone. Yes, she had many friends and yes, she was constantly surrounded by people but she felt alone. But then she met Ellie Williams. Ellie was attractive, no one could argue with that. Ellie was quite, and weird and y/n has heard all the stories that were spoken about Ellie, but she never believed it for one second. But that one faithful day when she borrowed a pencil from Ellie everything changed. You were in love with Ellie even when she didn’t utter one word to you, you were head over heels for this girl.

Y/n knew Ellie followed her home. She knew when Ellie was in her house. When most people would be afraid, y/n loved it. y/n loved it when Ellie was in her house because it felt like Ellie was closer to her. Y/n has never met anyone as dedicated to her as Ellie was. When Ellie finally asked y/n out on a date the girl was over the moon. As she was getting ready for the date, she spoke to the pictures she had of Ellie. Pictures she took of Ellie while Ellie was asleep, and pictures she paid people to take of Ellie. She spoke to the pictures telling them about how bright of a future the two of you had together.

Y/n knew the hold she had over Ellie but she wanted to take it to the next step. She wanted to keep Ellie all to herself. She didn’t want to risk Ellie getting bored of her and finding someone else. y/n already saw the waitress stare at Ellie, and in that moment she knew she had to do something. And that something was capturing Ellie. As Ellie bent down to tie her shoelace, y/n quickly grabbed a rock and hit her over the head, making Ellie fall to the ground.

Now y/n stood across her unconscious body, tied up to a chair in her basement and she couldn’t be happier. Ellie was here, with her. Forever. Ellie. Her Ellie. The love of her life, would stay with her forever.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie stared at the ceiling with a small smile on her face. She had a pounding headache, but she kept on smiling. Ellie first freaked out when she woke up. Being tied up to a chair in a basement with a dim light shining over you wasn’t an ideal situation to wake up to. But after a few minutes she realized in who’s basement she was. y/n’s basement. Ellie was tied up in y/n’s basement. That could only mean one thing. You liked Ellie back. You liked her so much that you kidnapped her and tied her up. She was just as messed up as Ellie was, and Ellie was happy. She was happy that you liked her back. Ellie had somehow managed to untie herself, and she just sat there waiting for you. She waited for her girl to come get her.

It felt like hours went by before Ellie finally heard voices. She frowned when she heard there was someone else with you. The basement door opened and Ellie ran to hide under the stairs. Ellie peaked through the wooden planks as she heard you call out her name softly. Ellie loved it when you said her name.

 Before Ellie could reveal herself, she saw a man walk down the stairs to talk with you. Her girl was talking to someone else. Ellie was suddenly filled with a blinding rage, Ellie immediately came out of her hiding spot, she heard you say her name, but she walked straight to the man and tackled him to the ground. As soon as Ellie tackled him she heard her girl let out a scream but she couldn’t stop herself from getting rid of this man. Ellie grabbed a chunk of his hair and hit his head reputably into the floor. Blood splattered everywhere, his brains soon poured out.

The room was filled with Ellie’s grunts, your cries and the sound of bones breaking. When Ellie finally decided she has had enough of beating the man her attention turned to you. Your eyes were puffy and swollen from the screaming and crying. You looked at Ellie fear all over your face and Ellie hated herself for what she was about to do.

 “I’m sorry” Ellie whispered as she picked up the chair. She walked over to you.

“Ellie please don’t do this” you begged looking into her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you baby” she promised “you just have to sleep for a while, while I clean this up, ok?”

Ellie raised the chair over her head and you let out a whimper. She swung the chair at you and filched when your body fell unconscious onto the cold floor. She turned her attention back to the other body on the floor.

“looks I have my work cut out for me” she chuckled as she looked at the blood and brains splattered everywhere. Ellie turned back to you and left a quick kiss to your forehead

“don’t worry baby I’ll be quick”

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Ellie looked at herself in the mirror. She was very nervous. She put on her best suit and sprayed on her most expensive perfume. She held the flowers tightly in her hand as she walked over to her bed, where you were laying. Your face was pale, your skin cold to the touch. Your skin was probably this cold because you’ve been dead for a couple of days, but you were still beautiful.

After the incident in the basement, Ellie had actually hit you a little too hard, which had led to your death. And now you lay here, on Ellie’s bed wearing a white dress, and an engagement ring. You were finally hers, and Ellie couldn’t be happier.

Ellie gently placed the flowers on your chest, and she slowly laid next to your dead body. She breathed in the scent of the body wash she used on you, to prepare you for this day. Ellie played with your hair while she thought of everything that happened these last few days. The good memories and the bad. But what ever happened doesn’t matter anymore because she lay next to you. The love of her life. You lay with her and no one else.

And Ellie was ready to join you. She wanted to spend the rest of eternity with you. You’ll be with her forever in the fare life. Your souls will be together forever and always.

﹒ʬʬ﹒⪩⪨﹒⟡﹒ᐢ..ᐢ﹒◖﹒⇅﹒○﹒✿﹒⊹﹒∇﹒✸﹒⟢﹒❀﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒♡﹒

Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this one. Remember you are loved, and to be kind with everyone… requests are always open, feel free to leave one.

Here is a cool ass edit to make up for the trauma I've caused you through this story<3

Yours truly,

Zia:)

[kikzzzzzzz77]

taehyung x reader inspired by skam noora and william (if you don't know them a quickly recap: it's a Norwegian teen drama series that got super popular on tumblr in 2016 and noora and william are enemies to lovers that happened after william had a thing with noora's friend and noora put him in his place and he got super into her after that super cliche 😭😭 and I want a smut scenario between tae and reader based on that, like it's their first time having sex after weeks of tension and reader being I shouldn't been doing this but omg I want him So bad)but instead of high-school make it a college au plss

(Sorry if it’s not exactly how the drama is b/c I’ve never watched it btw, i’ll try tho😭)

You were in your second year of college. Another year with your best friend, Jennie. Yet, another year with the man you hated most:

Kim Taehyung.

And better yet? He was constantly near you and Jennie because he had a thing for Jennie. Jennie didn’t like him and found him annoying and tried subtly hinting that, but Taehyung never paid attention to it.

One day during lunch, Taehyung decided to sit next to Jennie and you were so done with his annoying behavior.

“Can’t you ever learn to leave us alone, Taehyung?!” You yell at him.

“I’m don’t want your attention, Y/N. I only bother Jennie so get over yourself.” He scoffs. Jennie clearly looked uncomfortable as Taehyung wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Can’t you see that she doesn’t like you! You’re making her uncomfortable, you inconsiderate asshole. She has tried to tell you multiple times that she clearly is not into you whatsoever, so fuck off Taehyung!” You angrily reply. Even you were shocked at your own outburst.

“Jeez, okay…” Taehyung quickly grabbed his stuff and left. He had never seen you look so angry, but man you looked fucking hot when you were.

You rolled your eyes and sat next to Jennie.

“There. Now he better leave you alone.” With that, Jennie happily hugged you.

“Thank you Y/N-ieeee! I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She said gratefully, a smile on her face.

“Anything for my favorite person in the world.” You smiled back.

The next day during classes, which you unfortunately had all four with taehyung and only one with Jennie, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked around the classroom and that’s when you locked eyes with Taehyung. You glared at him and just flipped him off making him roll his eyes and look away.

After class you wanted to get to lunch quicker so you packed up fast and that’s when Taehyung came to your desk.

“Why are you in such a rush, dumbass?” He said, looking at you as you packed away your stuff.

“Why does it matter to you, asshole.” You say back at him, clearly not amused.

“Jeez I was just asking.” He said, hoping off of your desk.

For the next few days, you constantly caught Taehyung staring at you. One day while you caught him, he just smirked and winked at you.

You fake gag from across the classroom which he just rolls his eyes at.

In the hallways he’d purposefully bump into you or make you drop whatever you were holding. One day he made you drop your phone, the screen breaking.

“Hey! You fucking asshole! What’s your problem, Taehyung?!” You angrily yelled at him, grabbing his arm.

You felt your heart race as he leaned in close to you. Too close.

“My problem? You’re my problem, baby.” He said with a husky voice and just left, leaving you there in shock.

The tension between you two for the next two weeks was so thick anyone couldn’t even cut it with the sharpest knife in the world.

Little did you know, every time Taehyung saw you, his heartbeat doubled instantly. You couldn’t lie, yours did to every time you caught him staring or when he winked at you from time to time.

Taehyung constantly tried using subtle body language to flirt with you, which you never really noticed.

When fourth period ended one day with Jennie absent, you were walking an empty hall by yourself when suddenly Taehyung runs up to you, pinning you against the lockers.

“What the hell? Let me go, Taehyung!” You said, clearly annoyed.

That’s when you saw his eyes staring down at you. They were full of lust and want.

“T-Taehyung?…” You choked out, barely able to make words.

“I want you, now.” He growls out, pulling you into the storage closet. He pins you against the wall again, his large hands roaming over your body desperately.

“W-we shouldn’t…” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t deny the arousal that coursed through you when you heard his voice all husky and his hands roaming over your clothed body.

“I don’t care if we shouldn’t. I want to. I need to. I need you.” He says desperately.

“F-fuck, I want you, Taehyung.” You couldn’t resist anymore. Yes you shouldn’t be doing this with him, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him. You always had, you just never realized it.

With that, Taehyung quickly slipped off your shirt and unclipped your bra, his hands eagerly grabbing your perfect breasts.

His lips then attached to yours, his tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as he fondled your breasts.

“Fuck, I don’t want to wait any longer.” He groans as he takes off your skirt and panties, his eyes raking over your now naked body.

His hand found it’s way in between your legs as he started rubbing your clit, making you moan in pleasure. He loved that sound. It was the most beautiful thing his ears had ever been blessed with.

Feeling how wet you were already, he smirked and quickly undid his buckle, pulling his pants and boxers down, letting his hard cock free.

Your eyes widened as you saw his size. He was massive. You didn’t even realize he was looking at you with a smirk after slipping off his shirt, you were too distracted with looking at his massive dick.

“You like it’s size, baby?” He chuckles. Your cheeks turned pink and you quickly looked away.

“Awww don’t be so shy.” He grins slyly, spreading your legs and positioning himself at your entrance. You close your eyes, waiting for the fullness to take over your body.

You gasp when you feel him push into you, a loud groan escaping him. It felt like he was going to split you in two with how large he was. He continued to slide deeper inside of you until his whole cock was embedded deep within your tight pussy.

It took you a few seconds to adjust, but when you did, Taehyung started moving, keeping a steady pace.

“Taehyung, m-more.” You whined, wanting more.

He smirked, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, letting out a series of grunts and groans of pleasure as you moaned and writhed in pleasure as his cock slipped in and out of you.

His lips crashed onto yours once again, his lips greedily devouring your own. He loved every inch of you. He wanted you all to himself.

You moaned against his lips, but then he suddenly pulled out, turning you around so your stomach was against the wall. With that, he roughly entered you again, this time from behind.

He positioned his hips so he slammed against your sweet spot with every thrust, making you cry out in pleasure, his name constantly falling from your lips.

As Taehyung felt you getting close, he started sucking on your shoulders, leaving dark hickeys.

“Let go, baby.” He whispers huskily in your ear.

That sent you over the edge. Your walls clamping down on his massive member as you came around him.

“So fucking tight!” He groaned, his climax nearing. His thrusts grew sloppy as he came inside of you with a loud moan. He had finally claimed what he’d always wanted, what he always needed:

You.

[ecargmura]

Pokemon Horizons Episode 19 Review - Bitter And Sweet Memories

Not all backstories can and will be as majestic and well-animated like Friede’s. Sometimes, they can just be brought up to resolve long conflicts and to put a character in the spotlight. That was what this episode was about. It brought Murdock into the spotlight, brought his backstory, and then resolved it towards the end of the episode. I did like how it revolves around Murdock’s Alcremie that rarely gets focus in past episodes.

The Rising Volt Tacklers arrive in Galar, but decide to park the airship into the Wild Area as they don’t want to stick out too much as the Explorers might spot them on their way to see Liko’s grandmother. The trains are out of service for today, so Liko, Roy and Murdock go explore Motostoke City for shopping and visiting the Battle Cafe at the request of Dot who wants to use their famous Swirlix Cotton Candy as a prop for her next video. It turns out that the owner of the Battle Cafe is none other than Mitchell, an old friend and former business partner of Murdock whom he parted with on bad terms. They used to work together in a small sweets shop where their sweets were super popular thanks to Milcery’s milk. One day, Milcery played with a strawberry and spun around, causing her to evolve into the Ruby Swirl Alcremie that is with Murdock in the present. While she enhances Murdock’s strawberry sweets, she does not fit well with Mitchell’s matcha sweets; this caused them to have a falling out after Mitchell lashed out against Alcremie and Murdock. Their tension continues in the present.

Right off the bat, why does it seem like Murdock’s backstory with Mitchell and Alcremie seem like divorced dads in a way? Is it just me who thinks this way? The way it was executed seem like two dads having a falling out after their daughter went through puberty and changed in a way that Mitchell didn’t want her to be. I’m sorry if I made things fruity, but that was how I saw their interactions with each other. I’m glad that they managed to resolve their issues in the end. I think the best part of these RVT backstories is that there are still more about them yet to be revealed. Murdock’s backstory only showed a portion of his life and I hope that more about him will be revealed.

About Murdock, I really like that, despite being an adult, he’s still emotional and sensitive. Adults are still people at the end of the day, so it’s normal for them to cry or feel angry in certain situations. I’m glad that children like Liko understand that; it will be a good lesson for kids to learn if they were watch this episode. I really like Kenta Miyake’s voice acting in this episode; he knows how to nail Murdock’s sensitivity to show how the issue still bothers him.

Mitchell, the character of the day, is quite the character. I do like how flawed he is because he’s still human at the end of the day. He knew it was wrong to hurt Alcremie but he couldn’t help but to feel envious of Murdock’s talents. The food industry is a competitive field, after all; it makes sense if there are tensions and rivalries. I do like that he might be the anime counterpart of the Cafe Master in SwSh with how he owns a Slurpuff and runs the Battle Cafe as the owner; I like how all of his Pokemon are based on desserts in a way. I’m actually surprised he is voiced by the one and only Hikaru Midorikawa. If you’re not familiar with Midorikawa, he voices N in Pokemon Masters, Damian and Mandi in the original series. His non-Pokemon roles includes Sakamoto from Haven’t You Heard, I’m Sakamoto, Zelgadis from Slayers and Garou from One Punch Man. He’s a seriously famous veteran voice actor, so hearing him as a sudden COTD for this episode was a welcoming surprise from me.

The battle between Mitchell, Liko and Murdock ended up being a silly one. It was nice seeing what Alcremie could do and seeing Appletun using Apple Acid on screen. My favorite part was Alcremie using her cream to make a terastal-like headpiece on Sprigatito’s head. I didn’t mind the battle transitioning into a sweets battle, but I did want to see them actually bring out a table and start making the sweets and not do slideshows. All of the sweets they make look delicious, however; this is perfect for people who love sweets—I love matcha sweets!

I love how this episode ended, however. Roy was looking around for clues about the black Rayquaza and one lead he got was asking Kabu, the Motostoke City’s Gym Leader, since he’s from Hoenn. The episode ended just as Kabu got introduced. I think it’s a good way to end off the episode as Kabu will be the star of next week’s episode. What are your thoughts about this episode? Did it make you crave for sweets like how I did?

[crystallizedkingdoms]

Crescendo

day 4 of @johann-appreciation-week! today is a Little Fang fic. to those who may not know, Little Fang is a goth rock band au. the band, Little Fang, consists of Lup as lead singer, Kravitz as main guitar, Johann as bassist, Sloane as the keyboardist, and Ren as the drums. Avi is a gaming streamer who moves into the Fangs' house unknowing of their popularity.

you can also read this on ao3 <3

“I can’t go on there, Sloane.”

The cracks in the concrete steps outside the venue could swallow Johann up if they wanted to. Staring right into the mysterious, dark depths, he hopes that they do. 

“You don’t have to. I’ll cover for you,” Sloane says. She is sitting right next to Johann, long legs bent awkwardly on those concrete steps. She knows she sounds stupid when she says something like that, but it doesn’t stop her from saying it. 

Johann hangs his head down and runs his fingers through his scalp. He wants to pull out his curls and disappear right there. “I’m almost desperate enough to believe you can do something like that.”

“Wow, you didn’t even call me an asshole this time. You must be really stressed.”

“I am!! I am and I hate it,” Johann stomps the heel of his boot against a small pebble on one of the concrete steps. He realizes immediately how ugly and childish it must look to see a grown man stomping against the ground like that. He crosses his arms over his chest and growls to himself. “I feel like, fuck, I feel the same way I did on our first show. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

The sharp features of Sloane’s face soften under the warm, incessantly buzzing light bulb from above the venue’s doorway. Johann thinks he might just claw her face off for daring to give him that look. Which is dumb, of course, Sloane’s his friend. That fact is so apparent when she hands him a braided, leather necklace cord. It’s a ritual the two of them started, way back in their beginning years. When Johann had these fits more openly. 

Sloane fiddles with the buttons of her fingerless gloves, saying, “Johann, if you’re feeling that bad, we can delay the show. No one’s going to shoot you for it.”

“No, no, we can’t,” Johann shakes his head and bites on the cord, shaking and biting it real hard in hopes that it’ll get all the anxious energy out of him, “I can’t delay the show because I’m… acting up, or whatever.”

“What’s bothering you this time, then?”

Explaining it would feel like needles being jabbed through his tongue. The light above them beats down on Johann’s skin and exposes him to the dark, lively night waiting to tear him apart. Still, he has to say something. Has to explain himself and be vulnerable again. Isn't that just the best part of having bandmates?

“It’s… everything,” Johann hisses out. “It’s the buzzing of electricity, the smell of alcohol and weed mixed with sweaty leather, bright lights and the taste of my own mouth and the sound of my own bass and it’s— it's him. I know, it’s stupid, I haven’t had these issues with our venues in, like, forever, but— something about the stress and everything about it is killing me and making me even more sensitive—”

“Wait a minute,” Sloane says. Her voice is stern and curt. “Who’s ‘him’?”

Oh, great. Johann stares at the cracks in the concrete steps even more intensely than before. “It’s nothing. I don’t know why I said that. Let’s go on stage.”

“No, now you have to tell me. Who the hell can make you act like this?”

“It’s not just him! I’m not that pathetic. It really is the whole sensory thing, but it’s— it’s also, ugh, the idea that this is the first time he’s going to what we are and what I’m singing about and he’s gonna act so different around me I can tell he will and I don’t want Avi to do that— wait, fuck.”

“Oh. This is about Avi, huh?”

There it is. 

Johann throws himself up onto his feet, almost falling off the stairs. He can almost imagine the scene: Little Fangs’ Rockport show cancelled after the bassist eats absolute shit on concrete and completely smashes his teeth to bits while freaking out over his roommate who wears cat-ear headphones finding out they actually were, in fact, a popular band and not some garage project anymore. Yeah, that would make headlines.

Thankfully, Johann catches himself, and swiftly tosses that thought away to head towards the door. “Forget I said anything. I’m not thinking straight. Let’s just go out there and pretend nothing happened, okay?”

Sloane doesn’t get up. She just sits there and cranes her neck to the side to stare at him with furrowed brows and a knowing look in her eye. “If you want that, that’s fine by me, but that just means you’re gonna have to confront this fear of yours head on without any good advice,” she says.

Johann could say something terribly mean about the quality of Sloane’s advice. He almost does. Like a cornered cat, ready to scratch and bite at the one offering safety. He does manage to keep his mouth shut and forces himself to stay put and listen to Sloane.

“Finally. Look, I don’t entirely get what your relationship is with Avi right now. I think it’s obvious, though, that our last few rehearsals have had a new song with lyrics that are so infuriatingly clear it’s about him that it’s been driving me insane that no one else in the band has mentioned it! The fact that it’s taken him this long to recognize it means he might not even realize it now.” Sloane stresses her words very carefully, saying her assurances in a way that don’t necessarily mock anyone, but clearly voices her frustration. Johann’s a little envious of her ability to do that.

“But if he does manage to get the meaning through his skull in this performance, well, what’s the problem? He gets it and he asks you about it after the show. You two talk it out, make out, whatever,” Sloane says, smirking at that last part. “What’s the big deal?”

“Well, um… Avi’s just been a little afraid of what would happen if this whole thing got out, y’know? If that’s gonna change how people interact with us. If it’ll change our relationship.” Johann’s hands are trembling and he runs the toe of his black boots against the cracks of the stairs, but a weight is lifted off his shoulders when he says this. “He barely listens to our rehearsals, you know that. He’s gonna listen when we’re up there, though. That’s always how it’s been with him.”

Sloane sighs and kicks herself up onto her feet. Her long hair sways gently in spring’s night breeze. “If this is such an issue for you guys, then why did you write that song? Why did you pitch it to the band? Why did you go through all of this if this is freaking both of you out?” she asks.

“I didn’t know this was an issue for him when I did it. He brought it up when I had already written it all. He assumed I felt the same, when it’s barely an issue for me! I’ve already had my share of dating drama with Kravitz and Brian—” Johann stops himself to raise his hands to his head and take a few deep breaths. “And… and I can’t just give up that song. I can’t give up the things I write anymore. I’m done with doing that. Isn’t that what you guys begged for me to start doing last year?”

“Not if you think it’ll stress your boyfriend out so badly,” Sloane groans and rubs the bridge of her nose. Johann has to try and stifle the immediate, instinctual refusal he’s had towards the word ‘boyfriend’ for quite some time, because really, what else could they possibly be at this point? “But I guess you got a point. It’s not even a guarantee anyone other than people who are in our circle will figure it out. I shouldn’t beat you up over that.”

Johann doesn’t smoke much anymore, but suddenly he finds himself craving one. “I think it’s less the idea of random crowds figuring out our relationship and more just the whole idea of me… making this whole thing real. By immortalizing my feelings in song. Sending it out into the world. I can’t take that back, you know?” he says. His voice grows a little louder as he throws his head back for some more air, “Our relationship is here now and I’m shoving it out there! Nothing can fall through the cracks once I get on that damn stage.” 

As he says that, both Johann and Sloane’s phones buzz in their pockets. Few minutes left ‘til the show starts. Lup’s probably freaking out. Johann thinks he might collapse then and there. “It’s too late to be quiet now, huh?” Johann mutters to himself. “Just gotta suck it up and get up there.”

Sloane bites the inside of her cheek, nice and hard. The two stand next to each other in silence, only the drone of the light bulb above them, and their ragged breaths. Eventually, she says, “You’re right, dude, it might be too late to be quiet now. You might’ve backed yourself into a corner this time.” 

“Haha, very comforting.”

Sloane ignores the sarcasm and places her hand on Johann’s shoulder. It’s light enough on his body that it doesn’t make all his senses go haywire, like they usually do when someone touches him in this state. “That just means you gotta get it together and play louder. Get onstage and really put your heart out for him. Show him that you’re not afraid to put the truth of you two out there. Someone’s got to be brave. Be brave for him.”

Johann doesn’t feel brave. Not when the world feels like it’s attacking him, not when there’s a restless energy filling him to the brim and waiting to burst out in some ugly fashion. Not when he’s so scared of Avi’s reaction.

But… oh, how powerful Johann feels when he’s onstage. Where the noises and voices of the plenty drown under his own loud music. Johann can be brave there, if nowhere else.

“Or, um, whatever. I don’t know. I’m not built for this kind of talk,” Sloane says, playing with the ends of her hair. 

“No, you’re right,” Johann says with a shaky breath. His heart is pounding in his ears, the light bulb is audibly flickering, and the cracks on the ground seem so much larger. “You’re right, Sloane. So, let's tear that stage up.”

Everything is so loud, but Johann can get louder. 

[azulsluver]

𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧

tw/cw: bullying (bully!reader), verbal/physical abuse, stalking, graphic violence, obsessive behavior, breaking bones, unintentional emotional manipulation, noncon kissing.

summary: as a child, you refused to befriend josuke, bullying the poor boy who was smitten no matter what you did to him. until he’s grown tired of you turning him down, he can’t seem to take your rejection to heart anymore. he’ll gladly give you a hands on experience of how much you’ve hurted him over the years

When he would wave at you from across the room, waving with those pearly whites, it irked you.

He must’ve came back to haunt you of your wrong doings. Just when you came to a conclusion and accepting of the past, he lingers still. With Josuke’s popularity you expected him to use that as leverage to get some form of revenge from you, anything that’ll leave you scarred, looking over your shoulder while you scurry to class.

Paranoia eats you inside out, he’s so nice to you. Calling you by your first name and handing you pencils because you just so happen to have them missing each time.

The same boy, grown, yet annoying.

You noticed your friend group would slip away as they had excuses to leave. Some even moving schools, and many cutting off contact without a reason. You’d find yourself alone, not always, as Josuke managed to worm his way into your pathetic, failed relationships. There’s a feeling in your gut, watching as Josuke sat next to you in comfort that your best-friend had been sent to the hospital. Along the teary eyes, Josuke had a glint in his that caused you to shield your face away.

[☮︎] maybe it was fate •••

Higashikata Josuke. His name caused you to look up from your coloring, the teacher kneeled as they motion their hand towards you. A smile on their lips as Josuke nervously walks up to you. You find his weary expression funny.

Play nice they said. You can do that. Scooting to the side to let Josuke settle next to you, handing him your share of the crayons. He takes it with ease, the two of you in silence as you color. Not minding him scooting closer, just where your elbows touch.

At such a young age, you at first didn’t understand the concept of personal space. Your parents held you, kissed your cheek and walked you with their hands in yours. You loved the physical contact. So what bothered you when Josuke held yours? Was he too rough? Did he squeeze your fingers for too long or sweat so much? You find yourself pulling away from him, finding the words to say no. He can’t hug you, you don’t like it. No, he can’t kiss you just because he’s playing husband. You’d demand for a divorce and run away from baking the plastic cookies.

It felt good to voice your frustration. Josuke seemed to have listen after countless attempts, going with sulking from afar as you play with your other play dates. He wants you to play with him. Don’t find another husband or wife. He can be a good husband, so why do you avoid him after his sorries?

When your mother tucked you in for bed with a kiss on the cheek you couldn’t help but pull the covers to your mouth. Clutching onto your plushy that smelt like her perfume, her hand gently rub against your forehead as she leaves your door ajar. You think back to Josuke.

He follows. Too close, too far. Wherever, giving you his juice box or putting a bandaid on your knee. Wherever.

It’s bad to think, but what would work to chase him away. Dulling over mindlessly, you’re preoccupied with one thought; Josuke to leave you alone for good. Maybe your older friends would know.

The first thing you’ve done from the whispers that encouraged you to rip up the drawing he made for you. Dumping milk on his bag accidentally; it’s okay he tells you, it was an accident after all. He’s happy you’re not hurt!

You shoved him a little too hard. His elbows got scrapped from the concrete bellow as your friends laugh, but you don’t laugh. Your cheeks are flushed, angry, embarrassed. Josuke took your first kiss. Mommy told you to save your first kiss for someone you’ll get married to one day. Your lips burn for the amount of times you tried rubbing it with the back of your sleeve. Josuke apologizes, but he can’t seem to get the words out of his mouth before he’s crying in his hands. That was the first time the teacher called your parents. You’re a good kid. Josuke is too. But the other students tell the teacher how mean you are to Josuke, and besides, he’s just a boy.

[☮︎] doing whatever it takes •••

Burn his books. Discard his hard earned sneakers. Lock him in bathrooms. Dump his lunch in the gardens. Flick nails his way. Bold, hungry for release, to shake Josuke off. To find yourself with your foot on his shoulder, pushing him further down as he apologizes for upsetting you.

You’re disgusted with yourself, disgusted at him for allowing this to further continue. Did he enjoy the back of your hand against his face, nails that dig itself in his arms to push him away from getting any closer?

You tried everything that would make him lose interest in you, make him hate you and see how bothersome he was. As usual, Josuke trails behind. Recalling a time during events where parents joined to see how well their kids were doing, Josuke’s mom was like an angel compared to him. You almost felt bad, Josuke lied for you—the times you asked him to meet up at parks in dangerous parts of the town.

She talked so highly of you, thanking you for watching over her son. You had the urge to yell at him, and her for feeding into his delusions as he gave you the tightest of hugs. They’re watching, and you didn’t have the nerve to push him off.

Josuke’s hugs hurt, you can tell he’s holding it back. You’re unsure why you let him stick around longer than usual, pity for his mother caused you to soften perhaps…. Things began to settle slowly, the tidal waves of your hate dwindled as you gave up. Not completely, never, not when he tells you ‘how happy you make him’ and along the lines of “I hate seeing you upset, you being happy makes me happy.”

[☮︎] karma favors him •••

“What sick fuck did this to you?”

Your friends single eye weakly looks up at you. Her head isn’t able to move, supported by various of bandages that cover her head to toe.

Hearing your voice made the heartbeat monitor pick up, resulting in you grabbing at her face gently to stop her from panicking. Her chest heaves up and down as small gurgling sounds leave her lips, casted arms shakily crawl up to your sleeve as her dry lips part and close like a fish gaping. It was painful to see her like this, it made you felt responsible.

“It’s Josuke. Isn’t it?”

Your left eye twitch as you groan to yourself, pressing your head towards their chest. Like yours, it beats, it’s fast and furious against your eardrums.

Should you feel angry at the moment? Confront him and report it to the police. But you doubt your friend would have the guts to confess, and who would believe you over sweet, kind Josuke?

[☮︎] it’s not your fault ••• you know that?

You don’t get into many fights. Ones that involve scratching and biting, that only occurred on a day during the seventh grade. Father’s Day. You put on your best outfit that day, your mother did your hair too. You clung onto your father as he shakes hands with other parents, refusing to make eye contact with Josuke who came with his mother instead. You never really asked him about his father. Your father encouraged you to play as the adults discuss about things. Faintly hearing the praise of Miss Higashikata for coming, for being such an upstanding mother and filling that role for Josuke.

Influence is a strong force to be reckoned with, you felt powerful being with your friends as you corner Josuke.

“Josuke has no father, how does he become a man?”

“He doesn’t, he’s just a sissy like his mama.”

You don’t say anything. There’s a lot you want to say, but now wasn’t the time. You want to relish in this moment, watch him look for you for help like he always did.

“I’m not a sissy! Don’t talk bad about my mother, she’s better than all of yours.” The doors are locked. Who locked it?

You’re getting riled up just by being there, fists clenched by your sides when Josuke pushes past the others to reach for you.

“Tell them, [Name]! I told my mother about you, she told me we’d marry one day!”

Your friends laugh again. It’s taunting, it’s hurting your head as you glare at him. Marry? Did he think he had a chance, with you? The word itself makes you bold, grabbing the collar of his shirt as you point a finger at his nose daringly.

“Who said I’m marrying you? I wouldn’t wanna marry a fucking loser with that hairstyle, you’re so gullible if you think I’d say yes!”

Your neck nearly snaps to the other side. A series of gasps and screams echo through your brain, confused, yet you bring your head against his. His pompadour isn’t safe as the both of you smash into one another. Josuke’s nails claw at your cheek, grabbing onto you as he slams you against the wall nearby, with furious kicks to his stomach you both put up a fight for control. You bite onto his hand when he tries to cover your mouth, he doesn’t flinch but tightens his hold on you.

Your friends have already left the room, yelling and running down the halls in hope a grown up was around.

“Don’t say that! Don’t say that, you don’t mean it, say you don’t mean it [Name]!! I love you, please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

He cries out. Crying, crying, crying. You grit your teeth against his hand as you deeply inhale. Your mouth taste funny, not knowing you bit through flesh to draw blood as you punch his cheek. Your hair, ruffled as you gain the upper hand by biting harder. Josuke shrieks from the pain, falling on his back as you straddle him. Hit him. Again. Again. Again. It’s making your knuckles hurt. But you keep going. Even when he holds you closer by burying his head in your stomach.

“I hate you! I hate you, Higashikata! I never wanna see you again!!”

You repeat it like it’s the only thing you wanted to say, needed to say, you scream and kick when you’re pulled off of him. Flailing your arms and legs to be free. Frenzied, your pupils are blown wide after seeing Josuke curl up to his mother and the many of adults surrounding. You’re crying too. You don’t want to be a crybaby. But you sob louder when dragged away and into your own fathers arm.

[☮︎] confessions •••

The note inside your locker felt like a curse beginning to arise. It reeks of his cologne, heavy and musky of a scent you complimented on a man taking the bus. Ever since Josuke has worn it. There’s little chatter from behind you that has your clothes stick to your body like glue. Hesitating, before taking the note out of your locker to quickly skim through it; balcony, just you and him. Him.

You shouldn’t go, but your legs have a mind of its own. Each step up the stairs were like unlocking every waking moment with Josuke. Was he ready to seal it all? Push you off the balcony or confess once again. This time, you aren’t sure if you could reject him as usual.

Teeth clatter against one another, trying to sooth your nerves by running a hand behind your neck. The ends of your hair stand up straight now you realize you’re at your final destination. Shutting and opening your eyes, as if you didn’t open them quicker you feared Josuke would be in front of you, you’re so scared it’s stupid, facing your problem, it’s all coming down to this point as your fingers find the handles to the door and push open.

“I didn’t actually think you’d show up.”

His hands are in his pockets, leaning against the wall with an unreadable expression. The tone is playful, but being playful has to make your brows twitch, lips curl, anything, to look playful. Josuke doesn’t look playful even if he sounds like it. You don’t miss the way your voice cracks as you let out a nervous laugh.

“What’s it to you….. What do you want, Higashikata? I don’t got all day.”

That’s right. The graduation ceremony ended an hour ago. Friends and families are outside. But they’re not up here. He pushes himself off so effortlessly. The heel of his nice sneakers make your brain itch for how loud it is. Silent as he positions in front of you. That same, sickly smell of cologne slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve been thinking. You know. Us?” You frown. Narrowing your eyes as you take a step back for space. “I took what you said. I wasn’t being thoughtful. Always bothering you, and I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, [Name].”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. That you had to push me away. Throw my things in the lake, steal my money. Hell, what else was there?”

“Are you fucking with me?”

Your tongue gets stuck in your throat. Blanked out. But something feels wrong. The weight on your shoulders you’ve endured those many years burn heavily. An apology should’ve lifted it. But it doesn’t.

“I do feel horrible, honest! But, I can’t really let you walk away scotch free from this. You looked so comfortable, I want to be a part of that. Maybe that beating you gave me did something to my head, haha, I can’t…I can’t forgive you, [Name]. You reaaally hurt my feelings.”

Josuke grabs the side of your head without warning, choking on your own spit as your head slams against the door behind you. Your vision turns white for a split second before he grinds your head, the cold, metal door creaking under your weight. He pulls back before doing it again, you don’t get the chance to stop him as you panic.

“I think about it day and night. You were such a strong willed person, that’s what I like about you. You had a goal, dreams, and achievements, but it doesn’t seem all that fair.”

Josuke sighs, your hands snap to his wrist to tug him off. Warm blood trickles down your forehead and the right side of your cheek.

“It’s selfish. I try though, I really did, you deserve so much better. But does it excuse how I had to suffer. I would’ve liked it better if you just pretended it was all fine. I hoped one day, you would like me back. I did so much for you.”

He’s rambling. All the while his knuckles knock your breath away, you try to hold onto his collar to make a step forward. Cringing at the wet, cracked sound of your nose. Josuke shuts your mouth with his palm, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek as he shushes you with mockingly, so tenderly. The first thing your body could react was to bite down. Snagging on his flesh as blood makes its way to your lips and tongue. Josuke hisses, your foot knees him in the gut, it’s harder than you remembered.

He pulls away from you with a grunt, letting you break free, cradling your head in your palm to feel the wet liquid make a mess of your face. You hate him so much. You knew he wouldn’t change.

You snarled, messily rubbing your cracked nose. Busted lips and heavy eyes bore into Josuke as he pants, bringing his bitten hand closer to his face.

“Hah— y-you bit me again. Did you know? This was the same spot you had your teeth on before? You left a nasty mark.”

He jokes as if you were mere friends talking about the good old days. And it makes you worried. You keep trying to breathe in through your nose, the adrenaline you felt before is no longer there as you put a hand over your throat. It’s tight. Clawing at nothing, you fall to your knees as you struggle to open your mouth. Wheezing as if an animal had its jaws latched onto it. Josuke makes himself known by blowing a kick to the side of your face. You think a tooth broke.

“Hey, hey, pay attention to me will ya, I’m right here.”

You scream in pain, well, you tried to, his foot is on your chest as he pushes down. Your broken ribcage stabs at your organs, tears have finally made itself vulnerable as they coat your disgusting face. So much for looking presentable for today.

“Does that hurt, [Name]? I could make you feel better.” He’s kneeling in front of you, arms on his bended knees as he plays with your contuse lip. Smearing the blood further and into your mouth. “I always try to make you feel good. I wouldn’t do this but, since you think moving was a good idea I felt it was needed for a demonstration of my hard work. You get me?”

You don’t know if you could hear him right now. The pressure in your throat still present as you claw mercilessly at it. You blink a couple of times, gasping on your own blood as Josuke has his hands cupping your cheeks.

“C’mon babe, I need to hear the magic words. I promise it’ll help the pain, don’t you want to feel good right now?”

You feel so helpless. It’s embarrassing yet your eyes flutter back from the lack of oxygen. The weight is gone.

“Say it, please.”

“…hng..I- ugh—! I love y-you, Josuke…”

You don’t think it’s you. It doesn’t sound like it came from you. And you never think in all your life you would mutter those words to him. But he’s so gentle. Kissing you, soft, loving. You want to spit in his mouth, bite down on his tongue as it evades your mouth, but your body is unresponsive. You’re not even moving silly. But a presence, so warm, makes your aching body feel like you just soaked in the hottest bath in the world. Fighting back doesn’t even cross your mind anymore.

[callme-dickmaster]

Sweetheart - (eddie munson x reader)

Ch. Five - Bullshit/Mildly Attractive Men Are The Downfall Of Y/n Mayfield

summary: nancy decides being a stupid teenager for the night is worth risking her relationship; y/n takes a sad steve harrington home. cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, unfortunate use of y/n, idk if i projected in this, it's possible in every chapter, language, high school party, underage drinking, small smutty bit, like the tiniest bit -i think that's all- author's note: y'all... this one hits different. i'm trying to push these out quick because i'm feeling okay enough to not sleep all day. it shouldn't take too long to get next few chapters out. i also took out the pairing because i don't think it fit with this chapter ;) let me know if i missed any warnings. love you <3

Series Masterlist

Nancy and Y/n branched off to the kitchen island when Billy and his boyfriends rocked up to shit talk to Steve. Y/n didn’t bother with the punch and grabbed the bottle of Jack next to it and poured a double into her solo cup. Nancy went straight in and started downing punch.

“Hey, hey, hey, Nancy! Slow down! Steve said, grabbing at her cup.

“We’re just stupid teenagers for the night. That was the deal, right?” Nancy snapped before dancing her way into the crowd. Steve sighed and leaned on the counter.

Y/n went and leaned against the wall and sipped her drink. She was bored and wished she had hung out with Max instead. She dug into her jacket for her prepared “stuff” to get at least a tiny bit hyped for the party. Lighting the joint and smiling to herself as she blew out the smoke.

A while later, Y/n looked up when Girls on Film started playing and she snickered to herself, “Shit, they knew you were coming, Harrington!” she said quietly. She laughed at Steve trying to make eye contact with her as he pointed to the speakers and to himself. Y/n gave him a mocking thumbs-up before puffing on her blunt again. She squinted at him and smiled goofily, earning a laugh from the guy dancing with his girlfriend.

Nancy noticed Y/n by herself and danced her way over to her. “Y/n, come on! It’s a party! You’re supposed to dance!” Nancy slurred, already drunk after guzzling punch for the last hour. Y/n shook her head with a grin, “I don’t dance, man.” Nancy rolled her eyes and pulled Y/n into the crowd.

“Steve! Y/n said she doesn’t dance!” Nancy said like she was tattling on her. Y/n shrugged, twirling her joint in her fingers. “Well, we gotta fix that!” Steve exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s hand and forcing her to dance.

“You’re lucky I can smoke with no hands,” she said. Steve laughed and twirled himself under her arm. The dancing combined with the weed was allowing Y/n to have a good time with herself. The group shared Y/n’s joint until she finished it off during a KISS song. Y/n almost looked offended that they would play KISS while she was there. Nancy giggled drunkenly at Y/n’s anger about the band before running off to grab more punch. Steve sighed and followed her. It had been more than enough.

Y/n shrugged and continued to dance. “Hey! You’re the new girl right?!” A girl with curly strawberry blonde hair and dressed in a scratched-up white dress asked when she danced her way over to Y/n.

Y/n nodded, bopping to the music. “Cool! I’m Carol!” the girl said over the music. Y/n smiled and waved at Anna when she also danced her way over with a couple more girls. Usually, Y/n would’ve thought these types of girls wouldn’t give her the time of day, but she guessed Steve and Nancy were pretty popular around here.

Y/n and Anna winced when they saw Nancy spill her drink all over her white costume. She huffed and stormed off into a bathroom with Steve trailing after her.

Carol and the few other girls around just giggled stupidly at Nancy’s misfortune in front of everyone. Yeah, exactly as Y/n thought. Mean girls who were only out to push themselves up the ladder. “So… is Billy your, like, boyfriend? Or…” one of the girls asked, swaying a little too close to Y/n.

Y/n physically gagged in disgust at the thought of dating Billy. “Hell no! He’s my stepbrother. He’s all yours!” Y/n said, waving her hand at them. The gaggle of girls squealed together and trampled over to Billy’s little circle of friends in the middle of the crowd. Anna and Y/n laughed at the girls trying to stumble over each other for Billy’s attention.

The fun didn’t last much longer when Y/n saw Steve come downstairs and go straight outside. “Uh, I think something went down,” she said, staring at the back door. Anna looked at Y/n and then to the door she was staring at when Steve came barreling back inside.

“You okay?” Anna asked. Y/n nodded, “I don’t think Nancy or Steve is. I’m gonna go check on them,” Anna nodded quickly, and Y/n pushed through the dancing teenagers to follow Steve out the front door. Y/n had to run to catch up to him. “Steve! Hey, Steve! Harrington!” Y/n yelled sharply.

He whirled around at her tone but couldn’t find it in him to say anything. Y/n jogged up to him and put a hand on his arm. “What happened?” she asked. Steve shook his head, refusing to look at her. Y/n searched for his eyes and sighed. Steve finally looked her in the eye, trembling lip and all, making her eyes widen.

“Sh-she said I was bullshit…” he whispered. He looked pitiful. Y/n didn’t know what to say. On one hand, Nancy was her friend, and she didn’t want to talk badly about her, but on the other, Steve was her friend too and he needed support. Fuck. Y/n flinched and balled up her hands when Steve wrapped her up in a hug, hiding his face in her shoulder. She relaxed and hugged him back, wincing when he started fully crying in her arms.

“Here, gimme your keys. You aren’t driving like this,” Y/n said firmly. Steve wiped his cheeks and gave her his car keys before flopping down in the passenger seat. Y/n got in the driver’s side, and they drove away. Steve sighed sadly as the house disappeared behind them. He was worried to leave Nancy alone while she was drunk, but Jonathan said he would take care of her. And there was the fact that she didn’t love him anymore… if at all…

“Steve.” He jumped and turned to the girl driving his car. Y/n smiled comfortingly, “You still wanna watch Risky Business? You can even make fun of me for being confused because it’s inevitable that I will be,” she asked.

Steve laughed and sniffled, “Yeah, sure. I’ll try and be gentle on you.”

Y/n smiled and turned on the radio. Whip It by DEVO started playing, forcing a grin onto her face. Such a Steve song to play.

Steve told her directions to his house and despite feeling like shit because of Nancy, he was smiling. He glanced down at her hand that was resting on the console between them and took it in his. Y/n looked at him to find he was just looking at her tattoos. Well, he was at first. After a minute of looking at and tracing her tattoos with his finger, he ended up just holding her hand. Y/n allowed it. He was in a rough spot and any comfort she could provide was fine with her.

She gaped a little at his house when they pulled up. It was nice. Nicer than any house Y/n had been in. If you didn’t know he had money, you would be surprised too! Y/n turned off the car and checked the back to make sure there wasn’t anything of Nancy’s to give her. Steve met her at the front of the car and quickly locked their hands back together. She pulled him up to the house before looking up at him and handing him his keys. Steve was still staring at their hands. Y/n wished she could tell what he was thinking. She made the mistake of leaning closer to find his eyes.

The silence and tension must have been too much for Steve because he leaned in and kissed her, cupping her cheek. Y/n inhaled sharply and clenched her fists at her sides, unintentionally squeezing Steve’s hand.

The pressure on his hand snapped him out of it and he pulled back, covering his mouth. “I’m sorry! I…” Y/n only laughed. “It’s chill, Steve. Sometimes you need a distraction. I get it. Trust me, I get it,” she said, entering the house. He stood on the porch for a second, stunned. How can she be so nonchalant about everything? And why was she being so nice to him? “You coming, man?” Y/n asked. Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair.

They both decided they wanted to change out of their costumes, so when Steve came downstairs to see her still in hers scanning the movie rack he was confused.

“I thought you wanted to change?” he asked.

“Ah, I didn’t bring any other clothes, so I’ll just wear this,” Y/n shrugged.

Steve hummed and thought for a second. “Hold on, I’ll get you some,” he then disappeared upstairs before she could convince him not to. (Because she easily could.) Y/n pursed her lips and sighed, sitting on the couch with the movies she picked. Steve came back down shortly after with the clothes folded and handed them to her. When she went to protest he told her to ‘shut up and change before I do it for you.’ Y/n simply nodded and went into the bathroom.

Steve finally took a second to breathe and think. It’s like she said: he just needed a distraction. It doesn’t mean anything to either of them whatever happens. No biggie. Steve looked at the tapes she left on the couch and tilted his head to read them. Halloween, Poltergeist, Risky Business, The Outsiders. He smiled and placed Risky Business on the bottom. It can wait.

Y/n came out of the bathroom after he got the TV set up, dressed in his clothes, no makeup, and a nervous look in her eye. “I thought we were watching Risky Business?” she asked.

The menu screen for Halloween was up and playing the famous piano theme on a loop. Steve shrugged, “I figured we could watch it later. I haven’t seen this one yet.” It was Y/n’s turn to gape at him.

“You’ve never seen Halloween?! This is, like, my all-time favorite movie!” she exclaimed, falling next to him on the couch. Steve laughed and shrugged, “I guess I’ve never been a horror movie guy.” Y/n squinted and shook her head at him. “Disappointed in you boy,” she said. He snickered and pressed play. “This is literally my comfort movie. It’s so good,” Y/n piped up during the opening credits. Steve giggled, tossing one of his arms over the back of the couch.

After a few minutes of watching, Steve was feeling very lonely again. “Hey, Y/n?” she hummed in response, still staring at the screen. “Could we be, like, closer?” Steve asked, opening his arms. Y/n shrugged and nodded, scooting closer to him and laying herself on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Steve smiled, running his hand up and down her back as a thank you.

“Hey, Steve, you never told me you were, like, rich. It totally doesn’t matter, but you never told me,” Y/n said, still watching the movie. “Yeah, my dad’s money? No thanks. I would rather set myself up and do my own thing, you know? I always had this dream of a big family, big house, nice job, no worries… Stuff like that. Pretty wife to come home to… Guess it’s not like I hoped it would be now, huh?” Steve asked still playing with her hair. Y/n set her chin on his chest to look up at him. “You can still have your family dream, Steve. Just because it isn’t with Nancy doesn’t mean your life is over. It just means maybe she wasn’t the one!” she said hopefully.

Steve just nodded twirling her hair in his hands. He kept going back to the moment on the porch. Y/n’s lips were soft. Softer than he expected. He wasn’t trying to push it, but he really wanted to do it again. Just a distraction… Steve ran his thumb on her cheek before slowly leaning in to kiss her again. Y/n hesitated but kissed him back this time. Steve sat them up, making Y/n end up in his lap as they kissed. She opened her eyes and pulled away, hanging her head with a sigh.

“Steve, no. You’re not in a good place and I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” she said. Steve shook his head quickly, “You’re not taking advantage of me. I just… I just need this. Kinda…” he stuttered.

Y/n squinted suspiciously at the boy she was still on top of, and he squeezed her hips. She didn’t have an issue with sex, it was the situation that made her weary. “Please… please?” Steve breathed, kissing her cheek.

Y/n sighed heavily. Fuck it.

She finally just shrugged, throwing her morals out the window and kissing Steve again. He groaned, wrapping his arms around her, and returning the kiss enthusiastically. Y/n pulled away to quickly strip them both of their shirts before continuing. Steve smiled into their kiss when Y/n ran her hands through his hair, pulling it roughly as they rocked against each other. This was way faster and steamier than any other time he’d had with Nancy. Nancy always seemed nervous and stiff, but Y/n was currently taking control and moving fluidly with Steve.

He tossed his head back, gasping when she started to actually grind on him. Y/n smirked, kissing his neck, and laying her head on his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re good at this!” Steve laughed breathlessly. Y/n paused and shrugged, “I’ve had some practice.” Steve smiled, kissing her quickly before fumbling to take his sweatpants off. Y/n laughed, sitting up so he could take them off. Steve smiled up at her and brought her to him again. Steve’s eyebrows pinched together, and he groaned when her fingers touched his dick through his underwear. “B-bedroom?” Steve panted. Y/n nodded, yelping when he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Shit what did I get myself into?!

taglist: @sisgotdemons @tlclick733 @deafeningmoontragedy @marjoriea13 @playfuloutcast @twosluttychains @leetaeilsnecktattoo @lil-quinnie @razzles-bottom-lip @originalstar1 @yessargeantbarnes @bebe0701 @shotgunhallelujah @uselessastheginlasagnaa @mynameismothra @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @shecagobaby @moviefreak1205 @munsonmunster @chonkzombie @sadbitchfangirl @screaming-blue-bagel @urdad-hot @kjaxm @xxaestheticboyxx @ok-boke @coffeeaddictednymph

tiny author's note: yeah. that happened. you're welcome. i need it to advance the plot... nothing else... shh... <3

[spiriteddreams]

when he realizes he loves you pt. 2

Characters: Thoma, Itto, Albedo, Scaramouche, Gorou Warnings: none A/N: to kick off the new year with new writing, here's some pure fluff pt 1 here (xiao, childe, zhongli, diluc, kazuha)

thoma contrary to popular belief, thoma’s quite a busy person. when he’s not tending to the kamisato home, he’s out and about running errands across inazuma under the name of the yashiro commission. in all honesty, he hardly gets time for a break and there are days when the kamisato siblings have to force thoma to take the day off. but when he settles into his well deserved vacation, thoma will spend every waking moment of it with you. in his mind, nothing ever beats the sight of waking up alongside you and not having to drag himself out of bed before slipping away to start off the day. instead, he can liee and enjoy the moment, watching as the sun begins to peak through the window and illuminate your face.

“i can feel you staring.” your eyes are still closed and your words are slurred and laced with sleep but thoma thinks you’re just as lovely as always. and when your eyes flutter open and you’re squinting up at his smiling face, the first thing you do is snuggle closer to him. thoma hopes you can’t hear his heart thundering in his chest, but who is he kidding. you’re pressed up close to him, breathing softly against his chest and holding him as if you were afraid he would slip from your grasp. today will be a slow day, but it’ll be perfect one with you. and if these are the moments thoma can look forward to in the future every morning, he knows he’ll treasure every single second.

“go back to sleep.” he chuckles at your words but doesn’t move away, only shifting closer to you, a smile present upon his face even as his own eyes shut.

itto an absolute menace to society. those were the words you clearly recall kujou sara grumbling under her breath when she stalked past you to scold itto. granted, you couldn’t blame her this time. the trouble he had gotten into himself today was entirely his fault and due to his mischievious desire to bend the rules just a tad bit. you only stood there in amusement, leaning against a shaded maple tree as itto guiltily apologized to kujou sara and the owner of the shop that now had a massive hole in the side. he glances over at you, ready to walk over and itto nearly trips over his own feet. because under the maple tree, you stand their with the brightest grin, eyes crinkling with amusement and hands moving to cover your mouth almost in embarrassment. you’re a joyous sight.

“don’t laugh at my failures!” he protests but he doesn’t mean any of it. if anything, itto wants to see that smile of yours everyday. you look so free, so happy and filled with joy and itto wants nothing more than to capture the moment forever. and though his fingers itch at his side to pull out his kamera, he’s far too entranced with you. itto’s never been one to want to feel “tied down” as some may phrase it, but if he gets the chance to make you laugh and see that sparkle in your eyes for the rest of his life, he’ll spend every moment trying.

albedo dragonspine is cold, clearly. and despite the fact that you’re bundled up in coats, gloves over your freezing hands and a little bounce with each step in an attempt to stay warm, you’re still cold. it was your fault to decide to come up to the mountains, wanting to spend more time with your busy alchemist, but after a few hours you quickly came to the realization that the dragonspine weather wasn’t for you. albedo however, didn’t seem to be bothered one bit. even with part of his skin exposed to the frigid weather, albedo continued to take notes and sketch as if there was nothing wrong at all. but if there was one thing you truly adored about the weather was the snow.

“love, can you—“ albedo stopped, mouth parted as he stared at you standing just a few feet away from you. you weren’t even paying attention to him, head tilted up as you stared up at the snow that fell softly around you. it clung to your lashes and brushed against your face, glistening ever so slightly in the light of the afternoon sun. he watches the way a smile pulls up on your lips and the way your breath comes out in puffs of white and suddenly all his desires to paint the landscape are gone. because you’re standing right there, looking as ethereal as ever, bathed in a snowy sunlight and a look of awe etched upon your features. and as you’re far too caught up in admiring the beauty of the snow around you, you miss the way albedo looks at you in the same way.

scaramouche the slam of a door and mumbles of curses directed towards a certain ginger haired harbinger are what greet you as you peek your head around the corner of your home. his hat pulled from his head, and hair slightly messy from running his hair through it, scaramouche looks like he’s a second away from blasting the next closest thing to him with his vision. it’s evident he’s returned from a bad day, his attitude enough to scare away any other person around him. the fatui agents by your door cast him a wary look before glancing at you nervously.

“what are you staring at? mind you own damn business!” his voice snaps you back to the present as he stalks past you, grumbling under his breath once more. there’s another slam of the door and you sigh, nodding to the agents before slipping further into the house. you find the harbinger sulking in your room, arms crossed over his chest as he paces in front of his desk. he’s so caught up in his own words that he doesn’t notice the way you cross the room and stand in front of him, holding his shoulders as you stop him. he doesn’t have time to react when you press a kiss to his forehead and mumble, “relax, please?” he blinks, taken aback by your actions before he’s scowling and pushing you back softly, complaining about your kiss. but you can see the hint of a smile that’s on his face and the blush that’s crept up on his cheeks. and just as you leave the room to leave him be, scaramouche calls to you, telling you he’ll come out in a bit. you don’t see his face but he watches your figure leave the room with a smile on his face and a warm feeling creepin gin his chest.

gorou if anyone ever asks him, gorou would firmly deny the accusation that he enjoys it when someone pets just between his ears or brushes his tail. he’s the general of the watatsumi island resistance for archons sake! and yet he doesn’t show any sign of wanting to move as you’re cuddled up in a secluded area beneath sakura blossoms in inazuma city. you’re sitting crossed legged against the tree truck with gorou’s head in your lap, your hands scratching gently around his twitching ears. eyes closed and soft breaths leaving his lips, the general feels as if he could fall asleep right then and there.

“take a nap, i’m not going anywhere.” you seem to read his thoughts with your words and his eyes flicker open to look up at you. you’re upside down from his perspective but he sees all of your features perfectly. a sakura blossom falls on top of his nose, but as quickly as it was there, it’s replaced by a light kiss. the general knows his cheeks are burning at your actions but he can’t help but stare up at you with such adoration. because it’s moments like these that gorou appreciates the most, and if he could, he would spend each waking moment just like this. no one else but you and gorou and the sakura blossoms falling around you.

“oh? what an adorable sight.” the voice has gorou shooting up in an instant, his eyes wild as he locks in on yae miko smirking at the two of you from the bridge she stands on. there’s a knowing look in her eyes and gorou nearly groans out loud. the moment’s been ruined far too quickly.

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

A/N: good luck to everyone pulling tmrw!! idek if i want to pull for shenhe even though i really want her bc i also rly want yae miko lmao

[bethanysnow]

Crying on Prom night prt. 2

The groups that made up Hawkins social hierarchy fled to the cafeteria. Jocks, nerds, popular kids, rejects…... everyone else. It made the small-town Indiana circle of life. Eddie and hellfire club in their matching shirts sat at their table. While Y/n was coming in a bit later to take her seat on the right-hand side of their leader.

“Who are you?” Gareth asked with a mischievous glint in his eye “didn’t think we let normie’s at our table- “

Eddie threw a pretzel at his friend’s head.

           “Overlord’s have demands. There are things we must make peace with or else we will suffer even more” Y/n explained to the table. Overlords were the shorthand for any parental figure the hellfire club had attachments too. Y/n’s parents were nice people, just very well to do and interested in keeping up appearances. “If you think I look like a normie then my disguise must really be working” she smirked.

Eddie glanced over his best friend again. It was rare to see her in a dress, thought she looked…. well rather pretty. Not like that was a weird thing to think about your friends. No not at all. She just- it was different. Not different bad, just- not her normal thing.

Seeing Eddie look at her she thought this would be her opportunity.

           “Speaking of…normie stuff uh- Munson…I was thinking- “

As she goes to pick up her bag with the tickets in them the fire alarm starts ringing as a dweeb from detention tries to escape the principal. Everyone starts running out of the building, yelling, panicking, because what else is there to do? Eddie seeing the chaos that’s happening grins and takes Y/ns hand. Sneaking off to the parking lot where his van is he is victorious!

           “What are you doing? Eddie we still have class- “

“What is class? I have rescued a fair maiden from the clutches of the monstrous dire Hawk!” Motioning to the front entrance to Hawkin’s high school. Giggling to himself he watches as Y/n rolls her eyes. Leaning against his van he lights up the half cigarette from this morning. “Besides- its gonna take them an hour before they get anything done with kids everywhere.”

           Shrugging she looks at Eddie, then back at the ground. “Honey I’ve been meaning to ask you something- uh why do you not want to go to Prom?”

The look on the boys’ face read more ‘you’ve got to be fucking with me’ than ‘isn’t it obvious’ but it’ll do.

“…...uh cuz it is stupid? Night under the stars? I can go to the lake if I wanna see stars. Not the fake paper ones they made. Why? You wanna go?”

           “Maybe- “

“Y/n- Maybe??? you’re fucking with me…you can’t go to prom. I won’t allow it. It’s a part of the establishment here to dictate what we do- what? You want to go late at night to school in some itchy dress that will probably look bad while your date is in a monkey suit?” From the small utterance of maybe Eddie’s heart sank. Feeling like some kind of betrayal of ethics that he stood for. Also, the idea of her going to Prom made his skin crawl, not the her going, but her going with someone not him. Just he didn’t have the balls to ask her and he knew it.

           “Eddie! I don’t need your permission to do shit. You aren’t my dad! What the fuck? I asked cuz I had an extra ticket and wanted to go with you. And I would look fucking amazing in a prom dress fuck you! But if you are so high and mighty on your horse then I will go with someone else oh great sire. Sorry for bothering his lordship! Ugh!” Y/n ranted stomping off towards the school.

…. fuck….

Eddie turned a sickly shade paler than his already pale complexion as Y/n stormed off. He didn’t mean to say that- he didn’t he genuinely didn’t. Getting hot under the collar and wanting to ask her out himself had him in a tail spin. He had a plan; he’d get some flowers or play a song he knew she liked then ask her. He just didn’t see that coming. He panicked.

How is he gonna fix this?

~~

Y/n would have none of it. School can fuck off. He said she wouldn’t look good in a prom dress! Whatever holier than thou bullshit bite him today she would have no part of it. Walking to her car she got in and zipped out of the parking lot. She was going to go home and would deal with her mom later. Y/n needed to be alone.

Getting to the L/n residence the lights were on. Mrs. L/n was busy in the kitchen making lunch for the two youngest. A set of twins that were not planned, but so thoroughly loved it took most of her mothers’ attention. Walking in with the front door slamming it shut.

“Y/n?? That you sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Mrs. L/n asked concerned walking out of the kitchen seeing the last traces of the yellow and white sundress go up the stairs.

           “I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!” Y/n shouted down the stairs and went to her room.

Y/n’s room was what you’d assume of a girl her age would like. Carpeted floor, a double bed with yellow floral bed sheets and stuffed animals up by the headboard. A poster of the animated Lord of the Rings, a flyer for Corroded Coffin’s latest show, figurines of ‘The last Unicorn’. Which was the first real outing both Y/n and Eddie took by themselves to the movies. He demanded to be the one to buy popcorn, though both of them knew she was the one who could afford it. Throwing herself on the bed she sobbed into her pillow. Her lilac prom dress hung on the back of the door.

Since none of the shops around Hawkins sold dresses in her size, she either had to make her own, or go to some big city nearby to buy one. So, a set of bed sheets was sacrificed to the cause. Recreating the Lady Amalthea look from ‘The Last Unicorn’ wasn’t the most in fashion, but it made Y/n feel pretty. Like a real medieval maiden waiting for her prince charming. As this dress stared back at her there was the undeniable itch to cut it up, stain it black, rip it apart. She spent so many nights after school, after Hellfire club, sewing.

“Y/n…sweetie?” Her mom cooed from the other side of the door.

           “What?!” Y/n groaned burying her face into a pillow.

“Is this about that Munson boy? I know you really like him- did something happen?” Her mom asked opening the door a crack. Seeing her daughter in tears she rushed in and scooped her up in her arms. “What happened? Did he hurt you? Did he say something? You know I can call the school- “

           “No…mom…h-he just” Sniffles “I asked him to prom and he blew up at me and...” Curling up into her mom’s shoulder letting tears run down her face.

“shhh shhh shhh, it’s alright…Mommy’s here. Whatever it is we will figure it out, okay?”

Only then did they hear a car pull into the drive way.

[ppersonna]

out of my league - knj | 01

you were out of my league. got my heartbeat racing. if i die, don't wake me, cause you are more than just a dream - out of my league, fitz and the tantrums

✹ summary- Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 6.6k

✹ genre- angst, smut, comedy

✹ chapter warnings- swearing, descriptions of sex, sexual content, namjoon being a sexy flirt, jungkook being a himbo, awkward conversations, jimin being a protective bff

✹ a/n- hello and welcome to this fic thats lived in my google docs for almost a year now. without @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @chimoona, i would never have posted it. i truly owe so much of my brainstorming and creativity to their incredible brains and thoughts and ideas. i love them very much! i hope you enjoy this first chapter! please feel free to message me, talk to me abt anything!! im always here to chat. ILY!

MASTERLIST

Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out this way.

You planned to confess your undying, unerring love for your coworker at a better time, a classier place. You would wear a dress that highlighted your features, hair cascading down your back, makeup done to perfection and spritzed with expensive perfume. You’d confess, he’d confess right back, and you’d live happily ever after.

You’d also dreamt that Kim Namjoon would have the slightest inkling of who you are before he finds out about your year long crush. He might know you as the mousy girl in the office who doesn’t talk and doesn’t contribute much other than some crunched numbers and apparently the best coffee brewer in the office. But you’d prefer he knows you well—your favorite colors and movies and foods, what makes you happy and sad; things future husbands should know.

You very much did not think it would happen in a company wide conference, full of over five hundred suit-wearing executives. You did not think it would be done by the office bully, Chungha, who carefully takes over the mic and speaks the words clearly as she presents awards of recognition.

“Congratulations to Kim Namjoon for 5 years with the company, over $4 million in revenue, and the object of ____’s lust and affection. I’m sure you two will have the happy life she’s written in her journal about. Make sure you celebrate with her today!”

The room is silent, so silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Your face is cherry red and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole. Your heart feels like someone has ripped it in half and you stare in horror at the girl smirking at the front. Is this what it feels like to be backstabbed? Namjoon looks perplexed—confusion written on his face as he gestures around to no one in particular like he’s saying ‘what the fuck was that?’

Awkward coughing and clapping begins and Namjoon stands to receive his award, a fine wooden fountain pen, and chances a glance around the room. He easily spots you, with your wide, frightened face. His look remains passive, not hinting what he’s thinking behind those stormy eyes, before he turns and sits back down at the table with his buddies from his department.

You seriously contemplate quitting your job. You could find a new one easily, right? Just stand up and tell your boss you quit and you’re out of there before Namjoon ever sees you again and you’ll never have to face the mean girl who’s ratting you out.

As much as the idea rolls through your head, you know you won’t do it. You love your job, love the security and finances it provides you, and you love to look at Kim Namjoon, all day every day.

You don’t understand where things went wrong.

( one month ago )

It’s 9:03 am. You finish brewing the coffee in the small staff kitchen and sigh at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. Coffee is your favorite meal, favorite time of day, favorite snack, and preferred beverage. You drink it constantly. You’re known as “coffee girl” at work, mostly because no one really bothers to get to know you beyond that. You drink coffee like it’s a devoted religion. You could drink a cup right before bed and still sleep like a baby. It was, put simply, your drink.

The office workers deem you to be the one to make the pots of coffee every morning, claiming you were the ‘best’. You didn’t mind—you preferred to make your own coffee regardless—but you believe your coworkers are trying to pass off the twenty-minute job to someone lower in the office hierarchy. And you were one step above the interns.

The coffee machine chimes to let you know it’s hot, and it’s ready for you. You eagerly pour a mug, a large one, and smile as the waft of freshly ground beans (by you, of course) fills your senses.

You nearly knock the cup out of your hand as Kim Namjoon strolls into the office, eyes set on the coffee.

You feel your throat swell up, like he’s an allergen and you’re caught without an epi-pen. Butterflies swirl in your stomach and you can’t stop staring at him. He pays you no mind, tired yet determined to pour a cup of coffee and get back to his office.

You stand in the small kitchen, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, and pray to god you don’t do something stupid.

Namjoon pours his mug, and you watch his muscular hands grip the coffee pot. He pours a hefty amount of cream and sugar into his cup—it appears even perfect male specimens have their faults. 

Your eyes dance on his face before they tango down his body. You wonder what he looks like in the morning, crawling out of bed with mussed hair and a sleepy smile painted on his face. He’d look at you and tell you you’re the most beautiful girl and kiss you deeply despite morning breath. Maybe he’d take you to the shower to press you against the tile as he fuc-

“Oh!” it startles Namjoon to see you, and the coffee in his hand swishes violently. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry!”

Your heart melts. He’s the picture of kindness and politeness. You recognize it’s been a few seconds and you still haven’t replied.

“It’s fine!”

“Great coffee, by the way,” he smiles. His teeth nearly knock you out cold with their brilliance. “Have a good day.”

He turns and exits the room without so much as a glance back at you. Your knees feel weak.

Kim Namjoon talked to you. He complimented you. He told you to have a good day. It’s the best and most significant conversation you’ve had with your secret crush.

You definitely file that away for another day when you need to reminisce on his compliment, and you scurry out of the kitchen towards your desk.

Park Jimin is waiting dutifully at your desk when you arrive, a smug smile still slapped over your features as you sip at your coffee. Namjoon spoke to you today—how lovely.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow. 

“What’s got you so perky this morning?” 

You’re normally quiet and passive, avoiding eye contact or any semblance of emotion on your face.

You look up at the blonde bespectacled boy. Park Jimin is the closest thing to a best friend in the company. He’s who you spend time with at lunch, see on weekends, and text often. You suppose he’s the closest thing to a best friend you have in your entire life.

You send him a smirk and lean in close to whisper. “Namjoon said hi to me today!”

Jimin sends you a pitiful look and pats your shoulder. Your best friend is well aware of your secret crush and while he thinks Namjoon is a nice guy, he thinks your crush is a little hopeless. He’s the most popular guy in the office, often has dates lined up every weekend. Jimin hears the way he and his friends talk in the break room. The man is definitely not hurting for female attention.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, unenthusiastically. “That’s great.” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness over how excited you’re getting from a simple ‘hello’ from a coworker.

“I know, right? Anyway, lunch today?” You ask as you settle down into your cubicle.

Jimin pushes his glasses up his face and nods. “Of course! That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to let you know that Jungkook from marketing will join us.”

You make a face, disgust etched in the lines creasing your forehead. 

“Why?”

Jungkook is well known in the company. He’s a loudmouth, a player, a clown, and everyone’s favorite comedian. He’s just not your favorite.

“Don’t be rude,” Jimin admonishes at your grimace. “He asked to join and well—he’s cute. I can’t say no to him.”

“Oh Christ, Jimin,” you groan. “Not you too! Don’t tell me you have the hots for the serial fuckboy?”

He blushes lightly and shrugs. “Maybe I do! Be nice to him today or I’ll eat all your chocolate ice cream I know you have at home.”

You stick your tongue out, petulantly. “Fine, now let me get to work or else Seokjin will be up my ass.”

Jimin smiles and kisses your cheek before he scurries away, back to human resources.

It feels as if barely any time has passed. You’re working hard, running calculations and updating spreadsheets. You have an eye for numbers, and losing yourself in an equation is just another day for you. You’re shaken from your cheerful place by a vibration from your phone, and a text alert popping on the lit screen.

jimin 12:01 pm- it’s lunchtime!! you better get your butt out here!

You smile and text back an affirmative reply, then move to grab your lunch from the company fridge. Gliding down the steps leading to the fresh outdoors, you meet Jimin at the lunch tables in the grass.

Jimin is sitting with Jungkook. You can recognize your best friend by his hair and glasses, and Jungkook by his obnoxious laughter.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit down and open up the brown bag lunch you’ve brought.

“Hi!” Jimin is excited to see you, and just a pinch over eager to be sitting next to Jungkook.

“You know Jungkook, right?” Jimin asks, a harsh look in his eyes that reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You nod as you pull out a bag of grapes. “Oh, yeah, hey,” you smile. “I’ve seen you around.”

Jungkook delivers you a signature smirk and you feel yourself roll your eyes internally. “Yeah, you’re Coffee Girl, right?”

You pout and glare down at your brown bag lunch. Will you ever become more than just Coffee Girl?

“Yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

Jimin clears his throat to dismiss any awkwardness. 

“So, Jungkook, I hear you like working out? ___ likes to work out too. She drags me to the gym sometimes. Maybe we could all meet up sometime?” You don’t miss the hopeful lilt in his voice. Jungkook does.

“Oh, yeah?” He narrows a sexy look at you, rather—a look he thinks is sexy that you find off-putting. “What do you do at the gym? Little cardio sets with 5 pound weights?”

What an asshole.

“Sometimes,” you state as you take a bite of the homemade salad you handcrafted last night. “Most of the time I’m lifting heavy. I can bench 275 and deadlift 300.”

Jungkook looks taken back. “What, really?” He sounds breathless. “You lift more than Namjoon-hyung.”

At the sound of the love of your life’s name, you pause. Your face heats quickly and Jungkook smirks. Of course, he recognizes this and not Jimin’s obvious flirting.

“Why are you blushing?” He asks. “Did I say something?”

You’re quick to dismiss things. “Um--no. I just um,” you’re grasping at straws. “I’m hot.”

Jimin is trying not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind a petite hand.

Jungkook tilts his head. “It’s not even sunny today.”

You gulp. “Yeah, I must be hot. With a fever. M-malaria… probably.”

Jungkook snorts. 

“You have malaria? Bummer.” He picks at his nails. “I thought for a moment you had a thing for Namjoon.”

“No!” The retort is quick, too quick for normal conversation, and it gives you away.

“Aha!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. “You have the hots for him, don’t you?”

Your features melt, and Jimin tries to assuage the situation. “Jungkook, please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads.

Jungkook smiles at you. “That’s so cute. It’s like a little nerdy freshman crushing on the senior class president.”

You bury your head in your hands, suddenly unable to stomach any food.

“Jungkook,” Jimin’s tone becomes more firm, authoritative. “I’m asking you this as a friend. Please, don’t say anything.”

Jungkook holds his hands up to prove his innocence and waves his proverbial white flag. 

“Secret is safe with me,” he promises. “But it’s cute. I know him really well, you know. I could try to hook you two up.”

You blanch, unsure if you want Jungkook saying anything about you to the man of your dreams. 

“I’m good, but thanks,” you offer meekly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to work, okay?”

Jimin frowns, knowing you’re feeling like a cornered animal, and nods. “Feel better, babe,” he sighs.

Jungkook watches as you leave and turns to Jimin. “Man, he’s way out of her league.”

Jimin slaps the boy in the chest. “Be nice, asshole, that’s my best friend.”

Jungkook promises to be nice, and Jimin is blissfully unaware that others are listening and that the man beside him is easy to persuade.

( present day )

The company-wide meeting adjourns soon after what is likely to be the most embarrassing moment you’ve ever lived through.

You’re grabbing at your things and trying to run out of the room, desperate to get out before anyone sees you or talks to you or laughs at you.

A hand grabs at the coattails of your suit jacket and you’re pulled backwards with a yelp. You turn to seek your captor and find the concerned face of your best friend, Jimin.

“Are you okay? What the fuck just happened?”

Jimin’s concern makes it all real. Until now you could pretend you were in a fugue state, totally dissociated from reality. Now, you realize that everyone in the entire company is aware of your crush on Kim Namjoon.

You can feel your bottom lip wobble, tears threatening to spill. Jimin murmurs an ‘oh shit’ and drags you out of the large room and into the nearest bathroom. He pushes you to sit against the sink and passes you toilet paper to dab at your eyes.

“I don’t know how she found out!” you cry. “God, I feel so stupid and embarrassed.”

It incenses Jimin. He’s holding it back to ensure you’re okay, but in reality, it’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen. He’ll find who did it and punish them accordingly.

They will suffer. 

“It’s okay, babe,” he pulls you into a hug. “Everyone will forget about it soon. They’ll think it’s just a lame office joke, okay?”

You nod, feeling the slightest bit comforted by his words. 

“How could she find out, Jiminie?” You ask with a sniffle. “You’re the only person who knows.”

Jimin sighs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, but they’re dead. I haven’t told any-... oh, my god,” Jimin stops suddenly. You look up at him to catch what he’s thinking.

He growls and balls his fists. 

“Jungkook knew.”

You let out a sob and bawl your eyes out into the tissue you’re holding. Jimin holds you tighter while he conjures up a hundred different ways to hurt someone and make it look like an accident.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin sighs, trying to comfort both you and himself. “I’m HR. I have to handle this. I’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

You feel a sting of pain for Jimin. He’s been hopelessly doting on the man who spilled the beans for a few months now, even got to take him on a few dates. It was still nothing serious, but Jimin was clearly smitten.

“I’m sorry you have to do that, Chim,” you whisper. “I know how you feel about him.”

“Yeah, well,” he swallows thickly. “You’re more important than any asshole.”

Jimin holds you tight for a few minutes longer, before you clean yourself up and steel yourself. Ignore everyone, Jimin encourages. Just get to work, he says. Then you can go home and we’ll drink wine and forget about it all, he promises.

You replay his words in his head like a prayer as you walk down the corridors and towards your office. Everyone in the hallways stops to stare at you. They lean towards their friends and whisper. You hear snippets of their gossip, like “Namjoon” and “out of her league”. It drives the sharp blade lodged in your chest even further. It threatens to collapse your lungs and break your ribs.

You make it to your desk safe and sound and bury yourself in work and forcibly ignore the gawking and the stares. 

Just make it home. Just get through the day. You’re almost there.

You could do this.

You nearly make it the entire day before running into the one person you didn’t want to see, Kim Namjoon.

At the end of the day, you’re taking the stairs down to the parking garage instead of the elevator. The elevator is too busy, too many people, and you’re trying to avoid the stares and giggles at your expense. The stairs are always deserted and you figure it’s your safest bet.

You can nearly hear the wine calling your name at home. A delicate glass of Sauvignon Blanc and some chocolate ice cream and a good cry—it sounds like the best and only way to unwind after the worst day you’ve ever had in your life.

The chanting of your name gets louder and you wonder if you’ve finally lost your mind—if you’re actually hearing your wine bottles all the way at home talking to you.

No, wait. The voice is real, and coming from behind you. You turn around to face who’s calling you and nearly faint at the sight.

Kim Namjoon stands on the landing above you, one strip of stairs between you.

“Hey!” He seems glad he’s caught you. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

You swallow and search for an answer. 

“Sorry, I’m-.. I guess I’m just a little out of it today.”

Namjoon grimaces. 

“Yeah, about that…” he begins as he takes the steps down to be on equal ground as you. Your heart is spinning wildly. He’s so close to you. He’s talking to you. On any other day you’d be erupting towards the sky like a firework. But today isn’t any other day.

“I feel like I should apologize,” he states. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan it or anything.”

Damn him and his kindness. Damn him and his cute, awkward smile.

“No, no,” you assure. “I know you didn’t. You don’t have to apologize.”

It’s hard to make eye contact with the man. You want to, know it’s important in intense conversations like this, but the thought of him seeing you—really seeing you makes you ache inside.

“It was a really shitty prank,” he begins. “I’m sure you don’t even know who I am, let alone have a crush on me.”

For the millionth time that day, your face heats to a near boil. You stammer and you’re sure you’ve blown any chance at even thinking about a date with Namjoon.

“Oh, uh, right,” you seek an answer, beg your brain to pick something to say that doesn’t make you sound stupid. “I do.”

“You do what?” He’s confused and you widen your eyes at what just left your mouth.

“I do know you! I mean, I do have a crush on you! Oh, fuck,” you shove your face into your hands. “Please, ignore that. I need to go. Sorry!” You don’t give him a chance to reply, you book it out of the stairway as fast as your heels will take you.

Today was the worst day you’ve suffered through in your life.

The next few days aren’t much better.

Not only are you “coffee girl”, you’re now also sarcastically called “Namjoon’s girl”. As much as you hate your initial title, you’d prefer it to the new one they throw at you as you walk by.

Jimin rats out Jungkook and Chungha to the bosses. They get two weeks probation and they have to write you apology letters if they wish to keep their permanent files clean of any reprimands. It’s a slap on the wrist, and everyone involved knows it. Jimin is furious and wants the boss to reconsider. You tell him not to push it. You’d rather this be over and everyone to forget it even happened. Jimin unwillingly agrees.

You’re working at your desk, earphones shoved in your ears to diffuse the gossip in the room, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn and are greeted with the face of Judas Iscariot himself, Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi,” he sounds sheepish, cheeks reddening.

You narrow your eyes at him, sharper than steel. “What the fuck do you want?”

He winces, knowing he deserved that. “Well, I just wanted to apologize. I know they told me to write you a letter, but it seems too impersonal…”. 

You can’t believe Jungkook is sucking his ego up and actually coming to you to apologize. You thought he’d for sure be the one to cop out and send a shitty letter.

He continues. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry that all went down. I didn’t mean to tell her. She got me drunk and said she saw me eating lunch with you and Jimin. I think she was jealous or something and it slipped out. I know that’s not an excuse. I fucked up your trust and Jimin’s trust. But I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it to be an asshole. She sort of duped me.”

You pause as you take in the man’s apology. He didn’t have to come to you in person. He could have easily taken the shitty route and half-assed a letter to you. But he didn't, and he owned up to his mistake. God dammit.

“I appreciate your apology, Jungkook,” you sigh and you see his body visibly relax. “I’m still mad, but I guess the anger is at her for doing it in the first place. I’m sorry she tricked you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and kneels down beside you. “I’m really happy you believe me. I was worried you were going to kick me in the nuts.

“I won’t lie, I thought about it.”

He smiles with you, and you feel like this is the restart of a friendship. “I definitely deserved it.”

You shrug and smile. “Jimin would kill me for hurting you. He might even kill me for thinking about hurting you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops at the name of your best friend. Yikes. Looks like there’s still trouble in paradise.

“I think you’d be in similar company with Jimin right now. He’s not speaking to me.”

You let out a breath through your nose. “Yeah, he’s a little protective of me.”

“For good reason,” he admits. “You’re like a cute little flower. A cute nerdy flower.”

“Jungkook,” you warn. “I just forgave you after I was humiliated in front of the entire company. I’d be careful with calling me nerdy right now.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

It’s hard to stay mad at the boy, no matter how much you dislike his reputation around the office. The fact that he humbled himself enough to seek you out and apologize is proof enough to you of his character.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I forgive you,” you smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously as his cheeks flare red.

“Yeah, it felt pretty shitty to just… do anything else. Plus, you seem really cool.”

“You seem great, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, catching you off guard. For the fuckboy type, he’s surprisingly sensitive and soft. You like that about him.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” He says as he pulls away from you.

“Maybe you should apologize to Jimin, too?” 

His smile drops, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, maybe I’ll go find him now.”

“Good luck,” you offer with a pat on his shoulder.

With a sad smile, he turns and heads down the hallway towards the HR department. You pray Jimin shows mercy to the handsome boy.

A few weeks go by, and you’re sure that everyone has forgotten about you and your most embarrassing moment to date. You make the coffee, you calculate the numbers, everyone ignores you. Things return to relative normalcy.

Until it doesn't. The moment you think you're safe is the moment your guard comes down and everything falls apart around you.

It's when you're in the staff kitchen, grinding fresh beans to brew a second pot of coffee, that it happens.

The kitchen is fuller than usual. You normally try to wait until the lunchtime crowd dwindles and leaves to make your second pot, but you're so desperate for the caffeine that you can't find it in you to care.

You trudge into the kitchen with your handy coffee mug clutched in your tired hands and head towards the cupboards to grind up the beans.

There's a few groups of coworkers lingering in the room, and as your grinder whirs the beans around into a powder, you chance a look around to see who's among the crowd.

Your eyes flick immediately to where a hearty laugh erupts. It makes your heart still in your throat. Namjoon sits with his usual crowd of friends, hand gripping a homemade sandwich while the other assists him in telling his story to his friends. He pays you no mind—why would he?—and you can't help but stare at the way his dark brown hair lays perfectly against his forehead, and his eyes crinkle so cutely at the edges when he smiles.

You nearly forget about the coffee grounds—you're snapped out of your Namjoon-induced trance when suddenly a woman's laugh echoes around the room.

"Look at her," the voice states.

You peer up and see a girl you vaguely recognize. Is she from Marketing? Or perhaps Sales? You’re not sure, but she’s staring at you with a sneer.

“She’s so weirdly obsessed with Namjoon. It’s so creepy.”

Your face turns cherry red and you’re sure your lungs stop functioning. The air your body needs to breathe freezes and your chest aches. 

Namjoon turns to look at the girl before he looks and sees you grasping your coffee grounds tightly.

“Chungha was right—it’s so weird. Namjoon, you should talk to HR about this!”

Namjoon turns back to the gossiping coworker and frowns. “Can you leave it alone? She wasn’t even doing anything.”

The girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Namjoon.

“How can you stand to be in the same room as her? She clearly thinks she has a chance with you.”

Her words come out like a bite. She punctuates her point with a harsh laugh and the group around her mumbles and chuckles in agreement.

You’re desperately grabbing at anything you can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible before you’re embarrassed further.

“Well, she does!” Namjoon replies loudly, annoyance written in his features. “I was actually going to ask her to dinner this weekend in private, but since everyone is so fucking interested in my love life, I have to do it publicly.”

The room falls silent, and your favorite mug falls out from your hands and shatters on the floor. All sets of eyes stare at you while yours widen with disbelief—you don't even care that you’re standing in a pool of old coffee and shattered ceramic. 

Namjoon stands and heads over to you, bending down to pick up the shards of your coffee mug. You take a few stunted breaths to kneel and help. 

His eyes peer into yours. They’re warm—a chocolate brown color that makes you feel safe.  

“What do you say?” He asks with a smile so gentle it nearly breaks your heart. “Will you let me take you out this weekend?” 

You’re gaping like a fish and the surrounding room is silent—bated breath waiting for your reply. 

“Yes, I would l-love that.” 

His smile turns even brighter, and he stands to throw the broken mug away. 

“I’ll email you the details, okay?”

Your head nods dumbly without thinking. His eyes sparkle as he smiles at you, and he extends his hand down to you to assist you off the floor. As your hand slips into his, you can’t help but feel how soft and strong he feels. You wonder what his hand would feel like caressing your face, smoothing down the expanse of your bare back, running down the length of your body.

The thoughts shake out of you as he winks and kisses your hand gently, causing the gossiping coworker to grunt her disapproval and for murmurs of shock to echo around the room.

“I’ll talk to you later, doll.” Namjoon winks at you before he grabs his sandwich and leaves the room, gesturing to his crew to follow along.

The place on your hand felt warm where his lips once lingered. You no longer cared about the angry glares from the rest of your coworkers. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and you leave the kitchen nearly floating on cloud nine.

Email from: Kim Namjoon

Sent: 3:06 pm

Subject: Hey good lookin ;)

Hey! 

Just wanted to see how you are! I’m sorry about what happened at lunchtime. That was super petty and uncalled for. I really wanted to ask you out, and I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much by doing it in front of everyone.

I was wondering if you’d like to go out this Friday night after work? Say around 7? If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up.

Let me know!

Xoxo, Joon

You’re sure if you weren’t sitting in your tiny cubicle, you’d be screaming your lungs out.

The second the notification of the email came through, direct from the man of your desires himself, your body froze.

You re-read the message, over and over and over.  

The winky emoji, the xoxo, the nickname ‘joon’. It’s all so much and makes the grin on your face threaten to split your lips in half.

Your fingers press the “FWD” button and you quickly send the message to Jimin, before you stand demurely, attempting to give off an air of professional confidence. You need to talk to Jimin, now.

As soon as you’re out of the eyesight of suspicious coworkers, you bolt down the hallway towards Human Resources. Your high heels click loudly on the tiled floor, but the sound doesn’t even register in your mind. All you can think about is Namjoon, the email, the press of his lips on your hand, the way his smile made you feel as if you could fly.  

The door to HR swings open with your tight grip around the doorknob, and you open your mouth to call to Jimin, the lone employee, when you’re startled by the sight ahead of you.

Jimin sits on the edge of his expansive desk with his arms thrown around Jungkook’s neck and is clearly engaged in a deep, sensual kiss. At the sound of the door opening, they quickly break apart, with matching cherry red blushes on their cheeks and mused hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. 

The men are silent and you can’t help but giggle after a moment passes. “I’ll take it you two made up?”

Jungkook flashes you a dopey grin, one that gives you an answer, while Jimin smirks haughtily.

“Jungkook and I were just discussing, umm… his 401k.”

Jungkook looks at the blonde boy for a moment, confused, before he gets it. “Yeah! Totally. Retirement. Love to t-talk about it?”

You laugh out loud and walk towards the couple.

“I’m sure it was a titillating discussion,” you tease. “I have good news though, if it’s okay to interrupt this retirement planning session.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I should leave?”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jungkook smiles as if he’s just won the lottery. He looks between you and Jimin, face pure and excited like a puppy.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I forwarded you an email. Read it.”

Jimin nods and logs on to his posh computer, scrolling and clicking before narrowing his eyes and reading.

“Oh, my god.” Jimin’s face is shocked—it's written all over his features. “Namjoon asked you out?!”

Jungkook’s child-like grin turns into one of shock himself. He runs around to stand behind Jimin, eyes seeking over the words of the email.

“Well, hot damn,” Jungkook whistles. “He asked her out.”

Jimin exchanges a look with Jungkook, one that you’re not sure you can read. It quickly slips your mind, however, as you’re more focused on the task at hand.

“Can you come over tonight after work and help me pick out something to wear?” You ask excitedly.

Jimin smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes, before he nods.

“Of course, babe,” he assures. “We’ll make sure you look nice and hot for the date with Mr. Kim.”

“Thank you!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around your best friend. He hugs you back before you scurry out of the office and back to your cubicle, itching to reply to the message.

Jimin sighs as the door to his office closes behind you.

“Kook, please don’t tell me he’s going to break her heart. He’s asking her out to make himself feel better about this, isn’t he?” 

Jungkook slips his hand into Jimin’s and squeezes. 

“I’ll find out, baby.”

Jimin smiles and nods appreciatively at the boy, before leaning up and kissing him.

Jungkook smiles against his lips, and is determined to ensure the young HR specialist never hates him again, even if he has to go behind his hyung’s back to ensure his new boyfriend’s happiness.

Jungkook has one mission now, and that’s ensuring Namjoon takes you on the greatest date known to man.

He grills Jimin with questions about what you like over dinner one night. Jimin finds it endearing that Jungkook is so eager to rectify his mistakes, but he still can’t help but worry that Namjoon is doing this to save face—not because he actually likes you.

“So, what does she like doing?” Jungkook asks as he spins his pasta around his chopsticks idly.

Jimin smiles as he takes a bite of the ramen Jungkook has thoughtfully prepared for their stay-at-home date.  

“I’ve told you already! She’s easy to figure out.” Jimin pats Jungkook’s hand gently. “She loves cooking and baking, working out, daydreaming about Namjoon.” 

“Cooking, hm,” Jungkook looks thoughtful as he takes a bite. “I think Namjoon can work with that. I’ll let him know!”

Jimin tries to hide the anxiety brewing in his stomach. He’s had to plaster on a fake smile for you while you tried on different outfits, wondering which will be the one to finally convince Namjoon he is the one for you. It’s hard to fake it around his boyfriend, too—but something tugs in his stomach that flares the cynical side of him.

Namjoon went from not knowing of your existence, to watching you get publicly embarrassed in a matter of minutes. While Namjoon isn’t a terrible guy, Jimin knows he doesn’t like anything to tarnish the gentleman reputation he’s built in the office. And as much as Jimin likes him, and surely likes his friend Jungkook, he can’t help but feel skeptical.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls out his phone and types away, letting his elder friend know of what he’s found out. Jimin swallows his food, and his pride, and hopes to god his growing cynicism is wrong.

Friday comes slower than you’d like. You wake up every day during the week, one day closer, and your eagerness hits peak levels. Namjoon sees you in the hallways during the week and winks at you, hands shoved in his tight slacks that make you salivate.  

He emails you again Thursday afternoon, confirming things and getting your address. You reply in nanoseconds, uncaring how overeager you come off. 

By the time your alarm clock rings on Friday morning, you’ve already been awake for 4 hours.

All you can do is daydream about the date, the way his hand fits into yours, the warmth of his eyes when he smiles at you.

It’s what fuels you through work.

You hope to god the numbers you’re attempting to work during the day come out right, because your mind is elsewhere for more than most of the day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world, but also your body feels as if you’ve overdosed on caffeine already.

The clock eeks towards 5:00 pm and you’re bolting out the door at 4:56 to head home and get ready for your date.

Jimin attempts to meet you before you leave, but your desk is cold and empty by the time he gets there.  

He sighs and heads back towards his office to gather his things, waving bye to various coworkers as they file out of the corporate building.

He turns the corner towards his office but stops in his tracks as he sees Namjoon’s back to him, phone pressed to his ear.

“Baby, I’ll come over later tonight, okay?” Namjoon speaks into the phone.

Jimin feels his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He retreats and hides behind a wall, ear carefully peeled to listen to the tall man’s conversation.

“I’m going on this date with that chick from work,” he sighs. “It won’t last more than a few hours. Poor girl has a crush on me and you know the usual assholes won’t leave her alone.”

Jimin bites his lip and clenches his fist. Namjoon thinks he means well, but he knows his suspicions have been confirmed, and he’s torn inside. He wants to tell you, to warn you not to get too invested in the man, but he also has no interest in popping the bubble you’ve been in since the day he asked you out.

Jimin lets it simmer for now. He decides he’ll monitor Namjoon and cut things off if it appears the man strings you along for fun.

Namjoon finishes his phone call with a promise to see whoever is on the other end of the phone later that night, and Jimin quickly pulls out his phone and fakes a conversation with no one when he hears the man approach.

“Oh, Kookie,” Jimin giggles, leaning against the wall casually. “I can’t wait to see you tonight, either, babe.”

Namjoon walks towards Jimin and makes eye contact with the HR specialist.

“Bye, Kook! See you tonight, baby.” Jimin finishes up the fake phone call as Namjoon arrives next to him, and he plasters on his best fake smile.

“Congrats on you and Jungkook,” he speaks sincerely.

Jimin hates how nice he is, hates that he’s a nice guy who gets too wrapped up in his own good looks and reputation.

“Thanks, Namjoon,” Jimin smiles uneasily. “You too! Have fun on your date tonight.”

Namjoon’s face lights up and Jimin desperately wishes he could go back in time to 30 seconds ago, before he heard the conversation, and believe that Namjoon truly wanted to date you.

“Thanks, should be fun, huh?” He winks and nudges Jimin, before he waves a goodbye and continues out the door.

Jimin pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby. We’ve got a problem.”

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