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gyllenhaalstories · 3 years

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FRATBOY!JAKE — HEADCANONS

summary: it’s about jake. he’s a fratboy. i know nothing about fraternities. let’s see where this takes us (most likely to his ridiculously messy room he dares to call “organized chaos”)!

warnings: curse words, alcohol, partying, weed, college (derogatory), hookup culture, smut (small innocence kink & dumbification, quickie, oral sex, fingering, sexting & nudes exchange, protected sex) 18+ MINORS DON’T INTERACT.

gifs credits: griffin-helps / divider credits: firefly-graphics

word count: 2410

notes: thank you to a wonderful anon for bringing up this concept and inspiring these headcanons! this is also heavily inspired by jake’s role in the movie proof, i hope you guys won’t mind that i spiced our sweet hal dobbs up. 📒 🥳 thank you for reading and remember to reblog!

Fratboy!Jake was ✨ built different ✨ because at first glance, he looked nothing like a fratboy. He was studying something unexpected, like philosophy or literature, something to make him sound intelligent and quirky, most definitely. He was appreciated by most teachers (and students), he sat at the front of the class, he shared interesting comments and asked intriguing questions.

He was also a pain in the ass, and he enjoyed the sound of his own voice just a little too much. Teachers couldn’t seem to find a way to put their multiple degrees to good use and come up with a solution to end all the chit chatting that came out of his mouth. Rumour had it it’s because he raised their average grades by a ton with his excellent quality essays and almost inevitably perfect exam results. Would he risk his GPA to prove he was invaluable to the classes he attends? Absolutely.

Rumour also had it that he slept with a bunch of teacher assistants, not because he needed a raise for a grade, but because he could therefore he did. It prevented TAs from complaining about their insane workload, he made them forget about it for a few minutes and that was all that mattered, That torn apart ancient looking chair you sat on when you (rarely) visit your professor’s office during open hours only to find a TA doing all of the job? Well he had made a bunch of people orgasm on it.

What was the secret behind his impressive grades, you ask? All nighters, photographic memory, parents who both happened to teach at the rival university and were well-known researchers in their field of study (they sacrificed good memories with their son in the process, but it was not like they really cared anyway), and lots of green Mountain Dew and watermelon flavoured Jolly Ranchers.

Fratboy!Jake carried candies everywhere he goes. In the bus (he was eco friendly, he took the bus), he munched on peach rings. In the hallway waiting for the classroom to be empty from the previous class, he had a lollipop squeezed in his cheek that leaves his tongue blue raspberry coloured. In class, he sneaked candies to other students who sit next to him. That was how you two first met, actually, he offered you gummy bears, the whole bag, in fact. “Take it all, or else you’ll pass out from boredom” he whispered when he gave you the bag of sweets from under the table. He totally noticed the flavour you saved for last, by the way, but you don’t know that yet.

Eventually, you caught up on that, judging by the amount of candies he brought you in the next classes. He never bothered to ask for your name, he’d call you by the flavour you prefer. Don’t be surprised if you ear him call out “Hey, Cherry!" (or whatever flavour it is that you like) from across the hallway. If you were in a movie, you would have turned around and dramatically dropped your books, but you were just giving him a suspicious look. “I know what will make you feel better.” You started to walk away, wondering if it was a good decision to accept his sugary gifts. “My buddy and I are having a party on Friday, before finals kick our ass. If you want to hang out, we live in the blue house across the street, right next to the bus stop. I’d love to have you there.” That little corner smile he gave you, that little grin right there, well...

It brought you all the way to the front door of the massive house with walls that were vibrating from the music and with windows that evacuated the stench of cigarette, weed, mixed alcohol and many more things you could not even guess. It was barely past seven, and judging by the noise you heard from the other side of the door, most people were already wasted. You were turning on your heels, ready to leave and come up with a lame excuse for next Tuesday when you’d meet the candy man again. “Cherry,” a familiar voice caught your attention. “So glad you came, the fun’s just getting started!” You faced him, he had a Nirvana t-shirt, ripped jeans and carried an empty bowl of chips. “Come in, you’ll freeze. It’s cold outside.” So, you came in. You joked about how he could come up with such a smart observation.

He introduced you to a bunch of people, some faces you could barely recognize from your other classes, other people you had never met before and would never see again, some former teammates from a previous semester. The house was an absolute mess. There were people everywhere, playing beer pong on the kitchen and coffee tables, any surfaces really. Everywhere you looked, there were people kissing, touching, flirting or passing a joint. The only thing that stopped you from running away was the arm Fratboy!Jake kept around your shoulders while he guided you to the galley kitchen. “You look out of place.” He observed, such a smart student indeed.

You wasted some time, maybe it was a couple of minutes or hours, honestly, you could not tell and you could not care. You were sitting on the counter top, drinking apple juice from your red solo cup while Fratboy!Jake was cleaning plates and glasses, explaining something you did not understand from your mutual class. “I’ll send you my notes if you’d like,” you nodded, guessing he would forget about it. “But I’ll need your name for that.”

The introductions were finally made, and this cheeky grin never left his lips for the entire night, which ended on the porch of the house. You were rubbing your arms to warm you up, looking ahead at the stars that twinkled in the sky only to be surprised by a sudden weight on your shoulders. “It’s cold outside.” He repeated, and you reciprocated his smile.

He invited you over for another party. He asked to work with you when you were doing activities in groups. He stayed with you after class to make sure you understood everything, praising you on making him see the theory in a different light. He waved at you when you saw each other in the faculty, at the library, outside on the benches. Just like that, Fratboy!Jake was becoming a part of your routine.

You texted, basically all the time. And when he some time to reply, he always had a good explanation. “Sorry, i was at open house helping out the department. Sorry, I was at the environment club. Sorry I was doing this, involved in that, contemplating joining this other thing.” He made time for you, he always did. You found out he helped at the kindergarten on the other side of campus where students and professors can drop their kids off for a couple of hours. He really was All That, and then some.

He made time to the other people he was seeing at the same time, whether it was friends or people he just fucked on the side to get the stress out, he had amazing time management skills. As time went by and as the semester was coming to an end, he focused on you. He invited you to parties to discuss literally everything. You would argue about childhood cartoons you enjoyed or he disliked, the weather, the price of textbooks, anything really. You would always hang out in his bedroom. He was on his bed, and you on his cheap and uncomfortable computer chair. You’d eat candies from the same bowl, your fingers always touching and sending electric shots through your bodies. You’d laugh it out, blame it on the citric acid. He would spend the whole party up there with you. He’d invite you to study with him. You’d accept, one day you even criticized him on the fact his room was a mess and you could not concentrate with this as your decor.

The next time you visited, his room was clean. He had gotten you a blanket and a throw pillow so you’d be comfortable when you’d take breaks and talk again. You kept talking about this one movie you saw on Netflix, he wanted to watch it too. So you did. And so you kissed, barely making it after the credits at the beginning. You blamed it on the sugar.

But it happened again, at random moments. A peck on the cheek, a quick kiss on the lips, heavy make out pressed against a wall in some staircase. Everything happened quickly, but it did not feel like it. It felt like after all the time you spent with each other, it was just right.

He’d visit you at your place and you would end up making out on your bed, hands exploring each other’s bodies. The next time, it was his mouth covering your lips, neck and all the exposed skin he could reach with kisses, then it was yours returning the favour. “Tell me what you want, Cherry. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” So you told him, and five minutes later you were screaming his name when his face was buried between your legs eating you out like it was his last meal. Not quite his last, since he made you cum three more times on his mouth that night. He was good at everything, wasn’t he?

You did not put any label on what you two were experiencing, but judging by the number of times you two met in this small bathroom nobody really used to give him a blowjob or for him to finger you and make you lick his fingers clean, it was getting kind of serious. And when he whispered in your ear “All wet for me? That’s right, you’re pussy’s drippin’ for me. It belongs to me, doesn’t it?” in the cafeteria when your friend group met for lunch, you knew there was no turning back.

He had the fraternity house all to himself, one weekend. It was before the final week and the exams were kicking both of your asses. He invited you over for the whole weekend. “‘s gonna be nice, like a sleepover. We can do each other’s nails, we can watch TV, we can study.” He tried to convince you, but you were already sold on the idea. The days leading to it felt like an eternity, you two would exchange nudes and other explicit videos that created quite the build up.

Fratboy!Jake was ✨ built different ✨ and that weekend confirmed it. You did exactly as he suggested, he showed off his nails that matched yours, you two cooked and watched whatever was on television with textbooks, notes and post-its all over the place. You decided to take Sunday afternoon off, you both took a bath with some fancy bath bomb that amazed him. But the bath soon enough turned into water splashing all over the place. “Been thinking of this moment since the first day of school”. He told you, lips, teeth and tongue fighting when you were making out. You barely took the time to dry your bodies, he simply grabbed a towel and spread it over the bed before he pushed you down on it.

Oh, the rumours were all true. He was great in absolutely everything, sex was not different. He took his sweet time building the hype until you had to beg him. “Getting needy on me? Want me to fill you up and fuck your brains out? Been thinking so hard lately, that brain of yours needs a little break.” He prepared you, with his mouth and his fingers. He opened you up for him. He let you suck him off when he tore open the condom wrapper. “That’s it, your mouth feels so good.” That smile he gave you when he looked down at you, mouth full of what you could fit while you used your hands to pump the rest of his length. “Need you, need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock now.”

You begged again, and again, and again, even when he bottomed out. Your legs were wide open, pushed close to your head while his forehead was pressed against yours. His hips were slow, dragging his cock in and out of you. His pupils were big and black while he studied your reactions, the way you threw your head back when he was pushing back inside of you, the way your nails were digging in the flesh of his ass to pushing just a bit deeper inside of you, the way you smiled when he found that magic spot inside of you and angled his movements to hit it again and again. Your mouths were so closed, exchanging kisses from time to time and swallowing each other’s moans. “So fuckin’ tight around me,” Jake groaned, struggling to hold back his own orgasm. “Gonna cum again for me? Be a good girl and cum on my cock?” You nodded, and you did. You milked him dry. He barely had time to catch his breath before he ate you out again, cleaning you up and trailing kisses up your body.

You took a bath, another one. He helped you clean and come down from this high. He presented you a candle, and your face lit up. It was your favourite scent. It was his too. How did he guess that, you ask? Well he noticed you always smelled similar candles in stores during your late night trips to the grocery store. He was very detailed oriented, which was also another secret behind his academic success.

Rumour had it you dated until the end of your degree. And even later after that. He was no longer living in the frat house, but he rarely missed a party. You started at the bottom, judging all the drunk people who were going at it in public to becoming one of them and having no shame. Rumour had it you both shared the same favourite candy flavour and still used that to cheer each other up during bad times. And rumour had it, for someone as smart as Fratboy!Jake there was a lot he needed to learn in the bedroom and you made sure to teach him a few tricks and remind him who he belonged to.

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #topic: fratboy! jake

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

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I cant stop thinking of reader leaning/resting on the top of Corpse's chair, after bringing him a mid game snack, and their both really into the game he's playing and he wins, in the process either throwing him self back in the chair and headbutting her on accident. Even though its obviously an accident hes super sorry and shes like "babe its fine"

okay why do i find this way too cute

_______________________________

fruit salad

you loved fruit. it was your favourite thing to eat. anywhere you went, you always had something along the lines of an apple or a punnet of blueberries as a go to snack.

corpse had discovered this about you early. sometimes when he’d kiss you, he’d taste the kiwi fruit you’d just eaten, or whatever other fruit you’d had. one night, he watched you eat a whole watermelon for dinner.

you weren’t very good at cooking but man did you make a mean fruit salad. you knew exactly what fruit combinations worked perfectly together and lately you’d fallen into the habit of making extra so you could give some to corpse.

today was no different, you were heading over to corpse’s place and you’d spent the morning making one of these spectacular fruit salads.

he’d left the front door unlocked, knowing you were heading over and so you let yourself in. it wasn’t long before you found him at his computer. he’d look up at you when you entered, puckering his lips out so you’d greet him with a kiss and he’d hmm at the fresh fruit flavour lingering on your lips.

“taste good, baby.” he’d compliment you and you’d smile and quickly kiss both his cheeks.

“this’ll taste better.” you’d respond, placing the fruit beside his keyboard with a fork so he could snack on it while he was playing.

“it might be a close second.”

his attention would go back to his game after that and you noticed he was playing something you hadn’t seen before. it was a bunch of cute looking animals all performing violent acts on the screen so instead of walking out, you linger for a little bit, standing so you could rest your head against the back of his chair while he leaned forward in concentration.

after losing a couple rounds, corpse determination to win peaked when another game started. and that he did and following his success he’d throw his head back so suddenly you wouldn’t have enough to move.

“fuck yes!”

“ow!” you’d step back and your hands would fly up to the area on your face that corpse had just unintentionally head butted with the back of his head.

“shit, baby,” he’d rush to rip off his headset and scramble up from his seat. concern for you instantly replacing his glee from winning. “i’m so sorry, does it hurt?”

“yeah.” you’d answer honestly, you’ve got your eyes screwed shut and the skin is already displaying a splash of red from the impact.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” he’d repeat, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pry your hands away from your face so he could inspect it for himself. “i didn’t know- didn’t know you were there... baby, fuck, i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay, i’ll be okay.” finally you open your eyes and there’s an obvious build up of tears, not because you’re upset but purely because of the nerves in your face.

“i’ve hurt you.”

“it’s just a bump.”

“you’re crying.”

“no, no, i’m not.”

“i can see-”

“no, it’s like, getting your nose pierced. like, it might not hurt that bad, but you automatically get teary eyed because of how it’s all connected, you know?” you had been the one injured, but it was him who needed to be reassured.

he’d never moved his hands so cautiously, his fingertips just barely pressing against your face as his eyes so intensely scanned the reddened skin.

“does it hurt?”

“a little, but i’ll be okay.”

“i’m so sorry.”

“i know you are-”

“i’m really fucking sorry.”

“stop, it’s okay. it was just an accident.”

he’d stop playing the game then, even though you tried to tell him he didn’t have to. but he insisted and instead, he sat you up on the kitchen counter so he could press an icepack against your injury. another thing you’d tell him he didn’t have to do. but once again, he insisted. but it wasn’t all bad because after the ice bag came all of the kisses.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #request #writing #mine #Anonymous #answered

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tastesoftamriel · 3 years

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I was asked about what dishes you should never offer to Daedric Princes by a follower who's probably a little too curious for their own good. Here's an interesting question I certainly have not thought of, because I generally try not to invoke the wrath of Daedric Princes! However, if you really want to potentially bring the punishment of Oblivion down upon yourself, please feel free to try the following...

Mehrunes Dagon

Instead of fiery destruction, I propose something...cute. A classic chilled custard tart topped with warm berry compote and some Hammerfell-style rose-and-vanilla pashmak is bound to melt hearts, just not in the way one of his Dremora would.

Peryite

I love making healthy foods just as much as indulgent dishes, and as the popular adage goes, an apple a day keeps Peryite away! A classic rucola and feta salad with a balsamic and Cyrodiilic olive oil can be made even better with an extra handful of spinach, a sprinkle of fresh pomegranate, halved walnuts, avocado and cucumber slices, and a few diced apple pieces! Simply delectable, and sure to keep scurvy and pestilence at bay.

Molag Bal

What should you not offer the Daedric Prince of domination and creator of vampires? Probably a soft, delicate vegetarian dish. A Breton vegetable quiche with an all-butter crust, goose eggs, sun-dried tomatoes, delicate baby spinach, fresh chanterelle mushrooms, squash, lots of garlic, and a spot of chevre. Mouth-wateringly good, this little beauty makes for an excellent meal at any time of day, and is bound to make Molag Bal sneer.

Namira

I'm going to be a little cheeky here and turn something gross and creepy into something delicious that even the fussiest nobles I've served love: garlic butter snails. Namira's followers are known to chow down on live, raw snails, shells and all, but I prefer mine with a garlicky gratin and a sprinkle of cave-aged West Weald parmesan. Oh, and don't forget to eat them with a fancy silver snail fork like a proper diva!

Boethiah

Plots? Destruction? Snakes? Not with this dish! What you see is what you get with a traditional Nord bread-and-butter pudding! It's a great way to use up your leftover bread scraps and stale butter, and is one of Tamriel's most satisfying desserts in my humble opinion. Served with hot custard and dried snowberries, this pudding is the perfect, least deceptive dish I can imagine.

Hircine

You were spot on with a salad, but let me raise the bar a little. Not just any salad will do, but you'll want all your ingredients to be gently cultivated by hand and farmed, as opposed to wild foraged. Iceberg lettuce and pink pear salad with some crumbled goat cheese and honey hits the spot, but how about topped with some marbled fatty beef? The historic Gweden Farm near Anvil has won countless awards for its pampered cows who are given a daily massage and the best fresh grass and Cyrodiilic grain. Domesticated, happy, and wonderful...unless you're a hunter, that is.

Hermaeus Mora

You'd have to be downright stupid to try a traditional Argonian worm bowl unless you're Saxhleel, and even then, most of them don't want to touch this nasty, wriggling dish. Fresh, live mealworms and kotu gava eggs are drowned in a fermented blood worm sauce, with shredded catapult cabbage and flame-grilled, toxic haj mota flesh. I once commented that it looked a little like Hermaeus Mora himself, before taking a tentative nibble and spending the rest of the day throwing up in the swamp. Please don't try this. It's the dumbest dish in Tamriel, and a pox on whichever Argonian invented it.

Sheogorath

No cheese or strawberry torte here! In fact, the least madness-inducing food I can think of is a nice, mild pistachio ice cream profiterole, dipped in sweet milk chocolate and topped with fresh nuts is the perfect Breton summer treat, yet far too boring for the Prince of Madness to bother with. Which leads us to...

Sanguine

I really dislike coming up with bland, mundane dishes for the occasional fussy eater I come across during my travels. Sanguine, Prince of hedonistic pleasures, probably lurks over my shoulder at the average feast I throw, so I admit I was a bit stumped here...until I remembered my Granny Matilda's chicken noodle soup. As basic as soups come, this simple broth is made by boiling leftover chicken carcasses for a night and a day, and served with plain egg noodles. The perfect food for when you're feeling under the weather, or have the palate of a small Nord child.

Malacath

Altmer cuisine seems like a good way to get Malacath really mad, because it's basically the antithesis of what he stands for. Delicate Quicksilver Lingwe cerviche with a yuzu drizzle and Crystal Hannia caviar, with a light avocado mousse flavoured with apple blossom? A sensory delight, and bound to make any Malacath-respecting Orc gag.

Jyggalag

Fried, hand-pulled buckwheat noodles with a spicy Pellitine-style curry sauce is a good way to make this Prince quite cross with you. Not only is it messy to eat, but your furniture will likely suffer bright orange and yellow stains from the turmeric and tomatoes, and your bowels will also be as tangled as the noodles after consuming a fiery Khajiiti curry.

Vaermina

So mundane and boring, you're definitely not bound to have any dreams or nightmares about a bowl of saltrice porridge with comberry preserves and scrib jerky. The staple food of the common Dunmer, it's tasty enough to eat on a daily basis, but hardly the stuff dreams are made of.

Mephala

This spidery Prince enjoys interfering with us mortals, so it's time to fight back with a dish that'll probably make most other Daedric Princes frown too. Imperial food is famous for its balanced flavours, textures, and fresh ingredients, and a Gold Coat seafood stew is a vibrant dish bursting with the best fresh fish, mussels, lobster, and crabmeat the region has to offer. Mild but but with a tangy punch from the sun-dried tomato based soup and a dash of crisp white wine, this is a dish that both young and old enjoy across Cyrodiil.

Meridia

Charred jerk wild boar stuffed with timber mammoth cheese and a delicious bloody jus-and-honey sauce is sure to make any Bosmer's mouth water! It's definitely dead, it's definitely cooked, and it's definitely bound to disappoint Meridia. Just a warning- try this for a laugh and you'll never be able to get rid of her beacon.

Azura

By Azura, please don't offer this to the Lady of Dawn and Dusk unless you want to irreparably have your race changed! Love and devotion is what this Prince craves, so why not damage yourself with a fiery Dunmeri Vvardenfell fondue, made from scuttle, crab meat, and extremely spicy fire petal blossoms? Enjoyed by the most pain-seeking of Dunmer, my version comes with fried hackle-lo leaf and saltrice-and-wickwheat bread for dipping. It'll have your guts in a twist for days, which is the price to pay for this deliciously hot "cheese" dish. Oh, and did I mention that it's best washed down with a nice cup of Vivec's Gingergreen Chai?

Nocturnal

There's absolutely nothing dark about a Redguard sun-jelly, made with fresh fruits from coastal Hammerfell. Coconut, palm fruit, watermelon, and bananas are the stars of the show in this dessert, set in a chilled agar jelly that keeps the heat at bay. The fanciest Redguards love mixing edible gold flakes into the jelly itself, giving it a delightful luster that is sure to put a smile on your face and chase the shadows away.

Clavicus Vile

You're not going to want to strike any bargain to give up a delicious baked chub loon gratin with echatere cheese, over hasselback potatoes and crispy radish chips. This Orcish delicacy is surprisingly so good it's even tickled the fancy of the fussiest eaters in Tamriel! The chub loon meat is juicy and melts in the mouth, and the echatere cheese melted into the cracks of a hasselback potato are wonderful with radish chips for dipping. Admit it, you're drooling aren't you?

#Asks #Daedric Princes #Daedric Lords #TES #the elder scrolls #World building #worldbuilding #long post #text post

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mrkcore · 3 years

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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 - 𝐥.𝐦𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x y/n (ft. minor appearances of johnny)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au, aged down mark

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: mark said forever, even in his songs, but you should have known better. based off of olivia rodrigo’s new single, drivers license.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, i’m sorry in advance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): cheating/infidelity, heartbreak

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: drivers license - olivia rodrigo

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: this was finished at 2 am again, so please excuse me if this is incoherent 😌 also, i changed around the order of some lyrics and deleted some sections to fit the story, so it’s not 100% the same. feedback is always welcomed!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nakamotocore, @astroboy-lele, @infnteen (comment here to be added!)

it was always so simple. even though mark was a year older, you guys planned it out. same university, same program, just different years. as simple as that. or so you thought.

i got my driver's license last week

just like we always talked about

'cause you were so excited for me

to finally drive up to your house

but today i drove through the suburbs

crying 'cause you weren't around

mark started meeting you less often when he entered college. you didn’t think much of it, people always said the first year of college was the hardest. you just assumed the workload was catching him off-guard and he was too busy.

you didn’t tell him about getting your driver’s license. you wanted to surprise him. and you thought that if he was too busy, you’ll just go and visit him instead. before mark graduated, you guys would always be sneaking out at the crack of dawn in his white volkswagen, driving to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering whatever you craved. no cares or worries in the world.

“hey, when are you going to get your license anyways?” mark asked you one night. “i’m always the one driving, am i your personal chauffeur or something?”

“hmm, what if you are?” you tease him. mark shoots daggers at you. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding! maybe next year, when i turn 18.”

“i’m excited.” he leaned back into his seat. “you’d be able to visit me whenever.”

“i’d annoy you.” you snort. he chuckles and playfully hits you.

“you know you’d never.” he looks at you, like he really meant it.

but he didn’t. because now, tears flow down your face as you drive home in your car from mark’s university.

and i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone

guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

mark was always super passionate about songwriting. and when you guys were introduced to each other in guitar club of your freshman year, he finally found a companion to confide his interest in. when you guys snuck out, he would always bring his computer, speakers, and guitar. he’d play you the demos and songs that he had made and would want your opinions on them.

“how does it sound?” he asked you, pressing pause on his computer. it was the last day before the summer of freshman year for you, and he said he wanted to show you ‘something special’.

“yeah it’s pretty good, i think you could do a more complex guitar riff though? it would sound sick if you used E minor and riffed off onto the E major.” you suggested and turned to face mark’s smiling face. “what are you staring at?” you poked him.

“i wrote this about you, you dummy.” he flicked your forehead. “could you not tell?”

“ow, no?” you rubbed to soothe where he flicked you. “its too cheesy, and ‘that sun shining on me, my heart alive and breathing i want only one with you, all the things you make me do for you’? nah, mark lee has a little crush on someone.” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“yeah,” you whipped your head around. “you.” your brain stopped and all you feel is your heartbeat racing. you had never been romantically interested in mark, only friends. but that day changed it all.

“ayo, stop playing the innocent freshman girl.” you huff out. “i have a weak heart.” he taps your chin and turns your face back around.

“dude, i’m not playing.” he gazes into your eyes. “i’m serious, no joke.” your heart starts beating faster, the butterflies in your stomach are wild and your breaths are accentuated by the silence in the car.

and that’s when he leans in. pressing his soft, watermelon chapstick flavoured lips onto yours.

you close your eyes and you feel like you’re dreaming.

“did that prove it?” he says when he pulls away, grinning at you.

“you’re pretty bold making a move on a freshman, bro.” you roll your eyes but your insides feel warm and fuzzy. “and you stole my first kiss!” you exclaim as you push him lightly and he puffs out in disbelief.

“what else do i gotta do to prove to you that i’m for real?” he says, crossing his arms.

“pinky promise me,” you say. “that you won’t leave and you’ll love me forever.” reaching out your pinky. mark laughs, his pinky intertwined with yours.

“now who’s the one who’s cheesy?” he teases. laughing as you angrily attempt to hit him. “i’m joking, i promise, forever.”

you should have known better, promises were made to be broken. but the sticky sweet watermelon flavour stuck on your lips blind you.

and all my friends are tired

of hearing how much i miss you, but i kinda feel sorry for them

'cause they'll never know you the way that i do

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs

and pictured i was driving home to you

you know your friends are tired of you rambling about mark. even though they’ve endured it for 3 years already, they don’t see why you’re still talking about him even when he’s gone. you don’t really blame them though. you ditch them to hang out with mark all the time, it was like he was the higher priority than they were, but you were just realizing.

but could they blame you? mark was the definition of dreamy. anyone in your position would understand and agree. all of the fun, secrets, journeys, songs you shared, you felt like nobody knew him like you did. you felt like you were on cloud 9.

but now is too late, as you realized after mark left that there was no one else that you would, could drive and feel at home with. you feel empty.

and you're probably with that blonde girl

who always made me doubt

she's so much older than me

she's everything i'm insecure about

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs

'cause how could i ever love someone else?

you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb.

mark told you the address and room of where he was living before he left. when you arrived, you met johnny, mark’s roommate. he said mark was at the production studio probably and he could walk you to where it was.

when you arrived, you saw the back of mark’s head and the back of the sweater you gave him before he left. and right beside him, a blonde girl. sitting comfortably with her head rested on his shoulder. you stood there shocked. forgetting that johnny was standing beside you, he notices the change in your mood and asks if you were okay.

“oh, yeah i’m fine. i was just checking up on him, his mom wanted me to, haha.” you tried to laugh it off. “he needs to call them back to reassure them he’s not dead yet.” johnny’s laugh echos in your ears as you reassure yourself that they’re just friends. nothing’s going on between them, mark is just a super nice person.

“that’s kim aera by the way. the TA for mark’s producing class. i think she’s in her third year? anyways, mark really enjoys working with her. it’s like he lives in the studio, he’s always asking her for suggestions and other stuff.” johnny explains. you tense up, you were the only person that mark had wanted to ask suggestions from. pause, you were. not anymore. but it makes sense, she’s the TA, she obviously had more knowledge and experience in the studio. and she’s more, accessible… “what’s the deal between you two though? mark never mentions anything to me, what’s your name?” johnny snaps you out of your daze.

“oh, uh, i’m y/n, mark’s family friend.” you try to cover up the nervousness and cracking in your voice. “yeah. our parents are close, so her mom can count on me to report on him. haha.” you laugh lightly. “i’m going to get going now, mark is obviously intact, so that’s good. i’ll catch you around.”

“oh cool. see you.” johnny waves, and you walk out the door.

you try to convince yourself that there’s nothing going on between mark and this aera, but reassurance won’t make the truth disappear.

you come back a few weeks later. you thought that after finals, he might be more free, and you guys could finally hang out for once. you thought that after hanging out again, everything would go back to normal. he’d go back to texting you, showing you new songs, and maybe hanging out more often as well.

“oh hey y/n, you’re back?” johnny answers the door once again. “he’s at the studio right now, do you need me to walk you there?”

“i think i’m good, i remember where it is. sorry for disrupting you. bye.” you smiled, and after johnny waves back and closes the door, you walk towards the studio.

you think of many different scenarios of how this will play out, but this isn’t what you expected.

you walk into the studio, about to call mark’s name, but you see the blonde locks again.

“thanks for helping me out with the lyrics, you’re really good with words.” mark says, smiling. “i think you’re a great role model.”

you feel a little jab at your side. lyricism was never your strong suit. you could write beautiful melodies and harmonies, but the words never seem to come out.

your heart stops. right when their lips lock. with the way her arms are pulling mark in by his nape, you can tell that she’s more experienced. you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. you bolt out the door, you feel suffocated. you really were naive. if this is what heartbreak feels like, you don’t think that falling in love is worth it anymore.

you don’t look back. that’s the last time you ever see mark again.

apparently johnny asked mark about you.

“hey mark,” johnny calls out. “how was your meeting with your family friend y/n yesterday?”

mark stops dead in his tracks and his heart sinks. you came to see him? how come he didn’t see you? how did johnny know your name? and, why were you his family friend?

“oh uh, yeah it went well, thanks for telling me anyways.” mark escapes to his room.

mk.l

hey

did you come to see me?

you

why?

mk.l

oh, nevermind then.

johnny probably got the name wrong.

red lights, stop signs

i still see your face in the white cars, front yards

can't drive past the places we used to go to

'cause i still fucking love you, babe

sidewalks we crossed i still hear your voice in the traffic

we're laughing over all the noise

god, i'm so blue, know we're through

but i still fucking love you, babe

the world was quieter and stopped spinning. that feeling of being on top of the world all the time stopped too. you stopped going on your phone, you stopped socializing with people in general to be honest. you didn’t know how to face anyone. everywhere you went, everything you did, reminded you of mark. mark’s laugh, mark’s random nose scrunches, mark’s favourite songs, mark’s guitar, mark’s self-written melodies. you can’t go to mcdonalds, you can’t watch the sunset inside your car at the parking lot behind your local church, you couldn’t even pick up your guitar anymore. your melodies and harmonies didn’t come as smoothly anymore. you felt sick, you didn’t want to do music. it’s just not the same anymore. you didn’t feel like you had a purpose.

but you slowly got back up. music became your way of coping. listening to other people’s songs about heartbreak, you felt like you weren’t alone. your first heartbreak, no one there to teach you about it, and no one there to comfort you. so you did it yourself. you had no musical purpose, but now, your music was for you, your own personal expression. all the harmonies, melodies, colours, came back to you. and unexpectedly out of the blue, the words came to you too.

i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone

'cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

yeah, you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

the backing instrumentals fade out and the emotion in your voice trickles into the darkness of mark’s room as he closes his laptop.

you found your words. he thinks, smiling sadly. finally.

©mrkcore, 2021.

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark oneshots #mark lee fanfic #mark imagines #nct #nct dream #nct writing #nct oneshots #nct scenarios

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majimemegoro · 3 years

Text

For the occasion of Majima’s birthday, I present for your reading pleasure, the opening sequence of my 80k+, nearly-complete magnum opus: Livin in the Future

One morning Majima wakes up and before he even opens his eye, something is different. The taste of the air? The heat? The window is open - which is strange, because he had the air conditioning on last night - and the sounds of the street drift in much too clearly for a penthouse apartment. The early morning smog carries the strong flavour of petrol, making him wrinkle his nose against the way it grates on the slight pressure of a hangover headache. It’s an extra-pungent smell he isn’t used to; more like a clunky old car in the country than most of the sleek vehicles in Kamurocho. And, again, not something he should be smelling in this sort of ritzy apartment. He hopes it isn’t some kind of chemical leak. He’d hate to have to beat in the kneecaps of the utilities guys. He opens his eyes - his eyes - and the world around him is yellow: cracked ceiling, tiny apartment cast in sunlight coming through the ugly, fluttering curtain, beat-up transistor radio, empty bottles on the counter - and he recognizes the morning, like he recognizes the distinctive feeling of a punch to the gut from Saejima: intimately. It’s the morning of April 21st. Nineteen eighty-five. So Majima has had strange mornings before, but never like this. He slaps himself in the face really hard. And if the vividness of the smells and sights and his clarity of mind weren’t enough to prove that this isn’t some phantasm, some especially realistic dream or nightmare or trip or hallucination, the sting of the slap is. Enough to prove it. He jumps up from the section of the floor that is his bed, and adjusting to losing his depth perception was hard, but apparently adjusting to getting it back is going to be harder, because he misjudges something and winds up throwing himself across the room into the counter, knocking some shit off it with a resounding crash that sets drunken swearing coming up from the apartment below. “Shut the fuck up!” he shouts back on instinct, stomping on the floor. A muffled series of bangs comes in response before the downstairs neighbour concludes the ritual by going back to sleep. ‘Grumble-san,’ Saejima used to call him. They never bothered learning his real name. They did a lot of shit wrong, Majima realizes. A lot of things that he would change if he could. It’s the morning of April 21st, 1985, and Majima has two eyes and Saejima isn’t in jail yet. Just like that, suddenly Majima is shaking. There is so little time to fix things. A few hours. His breath stops, while his heart flutters like a trapped butterfly. The feeling is something between frenzied hope and outright panic. He’s not used to getting second chances. He wants to stagger upright and sprint to Saejima’s house in his underwear and shake him like a puppy and spit at him and bite him until he understands, until he agrees to just fucking run away from all this and go be hermits in the woods or something, anything, because they can avoid all the heartache, all the torture and years of suffering and loneliness, mend the void between them before it ever existed, they can make things right- Except Saejima would never do that. He’s so young and fiery and stubborn, he’s just a kid with so much growing up to do. He would rather die than run away. And things haven’t been great between them lately anyway (1985 lately, same as in the present), and Majima has been more unstable than usual so Saejima will just think he’s had another break with reality like the night with the kitchen knife, and Saejima will just stick him somewhere he can’t hurt himself (with Shimano? No, Sasai?) and do the fucking job alone. And they’ll be back where they started. He needs to be smart. Majima sits down hard on the ground before his legs can collapse under him, bracing his hands against the grimy linoleum. His stomach grumbles and he looks down and - was he really ever this skinny before the hole? But he had so few scars? You fucking baby, he wants to say to his past self, you’re so lucky and so cocky and so naïve. But then - not as lucky as he had remembered. He crawls to the tiny beer fridge and opens it to reveal - beer. How revolutionary. A few sad-looking, dirt cheap cans of the stuff sit on the moldy shelf. He can remember the flavour like it was yesterday. (It was yesterday, for his tongue. The strongest, cheapest beer available, and watermelon.) No food anywhere in the apartment, if he recalls correctly, so he cracks open a can and takes a gulp, almost spluttering at the taste. Get a grip, old man, he thinks. You’re that used to the ritzy shit that you can’t handle a little convenience store drain water? It’s disgusting, but it’s the best thing he’s tasted in years. Because there across from him, hanging like a spectre from the curtain rod, is the black suit, carefully cleaned and pressed and set out for the day’s events. Majima crawls over to the radio and turns it on with a spurt of static, and he has a plan.

#majima goro #majima #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #saejima #memecomradeoriginal #please tell me what you think #livin in the future

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

Text

candy girl.

summary: you and harry have a picnic in your backyard.

warnings: a whole lot of fluff + smut

word count: 3.3k

song inspo.: candy girl - frankie valli & the four seasons

There’s something sweeter about the spring months - more than any other season, the air is soft and light like the skirts of the sundresses that you can finally pull out of the box you’d shoved them in the autumn prior. It’s the perfect mix of heat with no humidity, where sitting outside on a checkered picnic blanket for more than ten minutes doesn’t have you dripping with sweat, and you can lean into your boyfriend’s grasp without feeling your skin stick together uncomfortably.

It’s always been your favorite season and it’s a sentiment you share with Harry. The two of you seem to shine in the springtime and you’re in the thick of it, now. Your garden smells of flowers and perfume - the French cologne you’d bought him for Valentine’s day generously spritzed on his neck, even if you’re the only one to enjoy it - and you lean back against the blanket, supporting yourself with one arm while your other hand runs down your leg to brush off the stray piece of grass decorating your exposed thigh. Your dress had risen up when you’d perched yourself on the picnic blanket Harry had set up and, really, who were you to fix it?

Harry is as gorgeous as the season itself when you glance up at him, clutching one of the caprese sandwiches you two had made together earlier in the day. He’s not looking at you - eyes glazing over the wide expanse of your backyard, a haven of the seclusion and privacy that you’d both yearned for when you’d picked this house. It’s always been nice, feeling like you’re in your own little world with the love of your life even when you’re sitting in your yard, but especially now that the world has come to a standstill - you try to take advantage of your home as much as possible.

Picnics are a must. They’re one of your favourite things to do and plan, slicing watermelon and packing cookies into a basket only to carry it five feet into your backyard, grass between your bare toes, and take it all back out. There’s something distinctly more intimate about dining in nature than at the kitchen table and you’ll never stop appreciating it.

“What’re y’lookin’ at, doll?” Harry’s raspy voice brings you back to life. You’d been too caught up in gazing at him, you suppose, to focus on much else - but it’s a sacrifice you’re all too willing to make. “Don’t tell me I’ve got vinegar on m’face.”

You smile softly, leaning forward just enough that you can reach up to wipe off the spot of vinegar that, sure enough, had been gracing the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t notice it until you mentioned it, actually, but you did.”

Harry hums softly, puckering his lips to press against your thumb as you drag the digit lightly across the soft expanse of his bottom lip. “So jus’ lookin’ at m’pretty face, then, weren’t you.”

Yes, truthfully, and in a garden filled with flowers that the two of you obsess over taking care of, you think it’s fair to admit that he’s the prettiest sight to see out here. So you merely nod, shifting closer to him so he can land his palm on your exposed thigh, fingertips brushing against the flowing fabric of the dress you’d picked out just for today. In any other context you’d see his hand placement as a scheme but perhaps it’s the overwhelming innocence of your picnic - you just can’t see it as that. “I was,” you confess, voice soft as you rest your hand overtop of his, and Harry squeezes your thigh softly, nails gently digging into your skin with small, crescent shaped indents that will surely fade within minutes. “I can’t help it, you know. Just so beautiful.”

You can practically hear his teasing demeanor softening at your gentle admission, and it grows louder as your boyfriend leans down to press an open mouthed kiss to your cheek, then another closer to the incline of your jawline. “Could’ve said the same ‘bout you, my love,” he murmurs, fingers stroking soothing circles into your inner thigh. “Y’make me crazy, y’know.”

“Do I?”

Your teasing tilt has Harry’s eyebrows raising, and he moves his head from the side of your face to stare at you as though you’d personally affronted him. The absence of his lips on your cheek is almost overwhelming enough to make you miss what he says - almost. “Y’better. Reckon m’doing somethin’ wrong if y’don’t know what a fool I am for you.”

You hum softly - the tune to some song that had been playing earlier, while you and Harry packed your picnic basket, and the name of which you can’t remember - and shift closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, cheek brushing against the soft material of his flowy shirt. You’re not sure how to articulate exactly how you’re feeling and perhaps Harry senses that, because he ends the brief moment of silence settling between you by sighing, “Been searchin’ this whole world t’find someone like you. Y’make me as happy as can be. I’d give y’the clothes off m’back, if you’d let me.”

“Well, I do like that shirt,” you tell him, relishing in his breathy chuckle, resting your chin on his shoulder so you can glance into his eyes. They’re filled with adoration and another emotion you can’t quite decipher, but it’s as soft and sweet as the springtime around you and you love to see it. “Gonna love you ‘till the end of time.”

“I hope that’s a promise.”

“It is,” you assure Harry, and you take just a second to watch the slow smile that stretches across his face before leaning up to land your lips against his. He tastes sweet and when you run your fingers through his curls they feel sweet and when he squeezes your thigh the feeling of his nails against your skin feels sweet - in fact, you’re not sure any moment between you two has been quite so sweet and, God, you could live in this feeling. You practically already do, you suppose.

You’re more than happy to spend the rest of the evening like this, lips never leaving Harry’s, but after a moment your boyfriend pulls away, hand stroking up and down the expanse of your thigh, inadvertently sliding your dress further and further up your legs. “I hate t’ruin this moment,” he declares, reaching for the picnic basket just as you swing your legs onto his lap, sliding closer to him to make the position more comfortable, “but I remember slicin’ an’ packin’ watermelon for dessert - can’t let that go t’waste, now can we.”

He’s already pulling out the glass tupperware container of watermelon before you have time to point out that, actually, you had sliced and packed the fruit, but you suppose it doesn’t matter, anyway. He unsnaps the lid and rests the cool container on your calves, picking up one of the two pieces you’d packed before resting the lid back on its counterpart and resting it back on the blanket.

“Don’t I get one?” you question, reaching back for the container without waiting for a response.

Harry tuts softly before hooking his arm around your waist, successfully preventing you from grabbing the tupperware, and you settle back into your spot half on top of him with little fret. “Doll,” he begins, in a cloying tone that sounds strangely deceiving in a way you can’t quite place your finger on, “sharing is caring, y’know.”

Yes, he does sound slightly scheming, but the arch of watermelon he’s raising to your mouth is delicious enough to allow you to overlook it. So you open your mouth for him, stick your tongue out just for show, and you take a generous bite of the center of the piece once it’s close enough. A droplet of watermelon juice trickles down your lip and you can feel its cool descent beginning down your chin as Harry pulls the watermelon back from your mouth, and before you can raise your wrist to wipe at it, he’s leaning in - lips pressed to your chin, slightly parted so you can feel his tongue flicking against the juice. It’s a sensation that has your stomach flipping and your arm, hooked around his neck, tightens just enough to hold his head to your face a mere second longer than necessary.

But, God - when he pulls away, you wish you’d held him a second longer. He is a devil, you suppose, and you can see it flashing in his eyes. Harry knows what he does to you and you can’t resist him, now, watching him take a bite of watermelon as though he’s a painting, merely meant for you to observe. But he likes the attention - you can tell - and he puts on a show for you, sinking his teeth into the erubescent flesh of the fruit, tongue running over the melon in a way that’s so sensual you’d nearly consider it pornographic.

“Jesus,” you breathe, bringing your thumb up to wipe at the juice beginning to trickle from the corner of his mouth. The liquid is ruby red on your finger and you bring it up to your mouth, tongue swiping against your thumb to taste the candied flavour. “God, Harry -”

But whatever else you’d been meaning to say (which was, truthfully, not much at all) gets lost in the spring air around you as Harry lowers his lips to yours. Instinctually your hand digs back up into his curls, fingers tugging at the strands - he tastes like the fruit you’d been sharing, with just a hint of the caprese sandwiches you’d had, and it’s twice as delicious as sinking your teeth into either. And his hand on your thigh is sliding further upwards, past the fabric of your dress that’s risen so much it hardly serves its purpose to cover you up, and his other hand still holds the watermelon, juices surely coating his fingers and you can think of a few other things you’d rather see his hand dripping with -

And, just like that, you’re moaning into his mouth, eyes rolling back at just the mere thought. You pull away for just a second and your full intent is to slam your lips back against his like your life depends on it but before you can even lean back in, Harry’s raising your shared piece of watermelon up to your mouth, and your teeth sink into it with a fervor you hadn’t intended on showing or even simply possessing -

Digging your lips into the piece just enough has the juice coating your lips and beginning to trickle down your chin and that’s exactly what you’d wanted, as he leans back in, lips attaching to yours once more. His breathing is picking up and his hand slides up your thigh around to your ass, cupping it and pulling you closer to him, fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties, stroking into the smooth skin they’d been protecting.

“Harry -” and that’s the only word you can mutter against his lips before he pulls away, even if you’re still yearning for his taste. “Please, Harry - driving me mad, here.”

His soft humming is beyond peaceful in a moment that’s become anything but, and he takes another bite of watermelon - God, takes his time chewing and swallowing and lapping up the liquid on his lips before you can lean in to capture it - before murmuring, “Tell me what y’want.”

What do you want? Everything, you suppose - in the simplest terms you want everything he can give you and more. You want him to fuck you into the picnic blanket, dragging that piece of watermelon up and down your body and licking up the juice it leaves behind. And you want to lie down in front of him with his dick in your mouth, giving him the pleasure he so deserves, and you want to ride him slowly, confessing to him how much you love him because, even in the thick of a moment like this, it’s always in the forefront of your mind.

But - right now, what you really want is currently clutching a piece of watermelon.

“Give me your fingers, Har,” in a faint, whiny plea, already reaching to wrap your fingers around his wrist to force him to comply - but you know he wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. “Need to feel them inside of me.”

Harry’s throaty groan is the only response you need, and his ring-clad hand that’s groping your ass slides back around to the front of your body. On instinct you part your legs wider for him - one still resting on his lap and the other dropping onto the checkered picnic blanket beneath you, and you can feel the gentle prickle of freshly cut grass poking you through the fabric.

He’s a tease and you figure that’ll never change - fingers trail up and down your inner thighs, dancing across the damp part of your panties that’s proof of exactly how much you need him and yet he doesn’t budge. Doesn’t slip his fingers into the cunt that’s aching for him because he loves to keep you on edge and, sometimes, you love it too. And, right now, you appreciate it because it’s as good a time as any to reach down, grab Harry’s wrist still clutching the half eaten piece of watermelon, and you tug it up to your mouth to take another bite of the dessert you’d been assaulting for the past ten minutes -

You’d no sooner swallow the chunk of watermelon than Harry’s dragging you in for another kiss, lips slotting together slow and smooth, like he’s trying to memorize the taste on your tongue. You don’t tell him that there’s no need to memorize it - you’ll be here for the rest of time - but you appreciate it, parting your lips for him to slip his tongue into your mouth as his fingers slide into the front of your panties.

A soft gasp escapes your throat and you pull your face from Harry’s, eyes shifting downwards - you’re tempted to pull your dress up so you can see his hand, prominent through your panties, but there’s something better about not being able to. Secretive, perhaps, or simply more intimate, but it’s enough to have you resist the urge to tug the fabric up and watch him at work.

Harry’s digits begin soft and slow, simply dragging up and down your dripping folds, pressure so soft you could trick yourself into thinking nothing’s happening - but then his fingers are sinking into your cunt with absolutely no hesitation. Merely feeling the coldness of his ring against your folds has you tossing your head back with a cry that rings through your backyard, high pitched and needy, and when you glance back at Harry there’s a slow smirk spreading across his face - a cockiness that should, perhaps, bother you, but it only sends another gush of arousal straight to the apex of your thighs.

“Oh, God -” your voice is barely above a breath but it’s quiet enough in your yard to sound like a scream. He’s breathing heavy and so are you but that’s it and it’s a testament, perhaps, to either the absolute seclusion of your backyard that feels like a dream right now, or the overall silence of the world - that the sound of people on the streets or at your neighbors’ houses isn’t interrupting your moment. And, whichever it is, you’re savoring it. “Feels so good, Har.”

The slice of watermelon falls from Harry’s grasp onto your calf, resting on his lap, and his now-unoccupied hand grips your outer thigh that’s fallen off his lap, groping the skin just hard enough to leave bruises that you’ll surely admire tomorrow morning. Finger shaped bruises that you can’t help but press on, just to remember exactly how spectacular it feels right now, but even when they’ve faded, he can’t resist marking you up again - and he only proves it by leaning down, lapping a thin stripe down your jawline before landing his lips on the column of your throat. Harry’s thumb, buried in your panties, shifts to work at your clit, his other digits still pumping in and out of you - slowly, just enough to keep you needing more, curling upwards with every thrust to swipe that spot inside of you that has your back arching upwards and your hips rolling to meet his fingers.

“C’mon, sweet girl,” Harry’s whispering, pressing quiet kisses below your ear as he eggs you on, and you whimper softly as his thumb presses circles into your clit. “Need t’hear you - tell me how good it feels.”

For how much he’s pleasing you, you figure it’s only right to give into his praise kink - “Feels so good,” you moan, hips rocking into Harry’s hand, arm still hooked around his neck and holding him close to you. “I love you so much - oh, god - makin’ me feel so good.”

“I love you,” he breathes, nuzzling his forehead ever so slightly into the side of your face and you turn your head to capture his lips once more, slipping your tongue into his mouth to try and reassert any semblance of dominance that you can find but he’s got you wrapped around his finger, and you both know it. Fingers curl in your pussy and his thumb working circles on your clit picks up speed until your head feels like it’s fucking spinning, the slow pace he’d had before long forgotten - the sound of your wetness is nearly embarrassingly loud but not louder than your desperate sobs, crying and begging for something you can’t quite pinpoint.

For a moment, that’s all there is - your moans landing right into his mouth because, no matter what, you can’t bear to take your lips off of his - his fingers, digging near-painfully into your thigh in a way that you can’t bring yourself to dislike - so on the verge of cumming that it seems like anything could tip you over the edge -

And anything ends up being Harry, reaching down to grab the slice of watermelon dripping onto your calf, raising it up to his mouth to take the final bite of the fruit before letting the rind fall onto the picnic blanket beneath you. The mere sight of the juices dripping down his face has you clenching around his fingers but then he leans in, lips pressing to yours again, and when your mouth parts for him there’s a gush of the juice that flows into your mouth and -

With one final cry, your head drops back, the sticky liquid coating your tongue and your throat as you swallow it before the band snaps, pressure building in the pit of your stomach finally unleashing with the force of your orgasm raining through your body. It’s a euphoric feeling you’ll never get old of and Harry knows just how to work you through it, lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt as your arousal coats his fingers and your body nearly convulses overtop of him, eyes rolling back until all you can see is the bright blue sky spanning above you.

It’s hard to feel anything but peace afterwards but you can’t help frowning as Harry pulls his fingers out of your cunt, glistening in the sunlight with your cum. And he stares down at his digits like it’s a fucking dessert, or a delicacy, before raising them to his mouth and wrapping his lips around his fingertips in a way that already has you ready for a part two -

“God,” Harry remarks, pulling his mouth off of his fingers with a soft pop that makes your stomach turn - “Taste sweeter than the watermelon, doll - like candy -”

But you’re not focusing on him, even when you part your lips to taste your arousal on his fingers - all you can see is the second piece of watermelon, encased in the glass tupperware like a goddamn piece of art, ready for whatever you have planned for it - and you have a lot.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #watermelon sugar mv #i actually like this a lot

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e-milieeee · 4 years

Text

hey cutea

Summary: In which Marinette brings Adrien to a bubble tea shop only to witness him order the most unappetizing flavour on the menu.

All’s well until Chat Noir does the exact same, and Ladybug makes an unsuspecting connection.

Tikki is also very unamused. If only they’d stop dancing around each other.

Notes: a month of procrastinating, the boba reveal,,, is finally here for day 1: cafe of @auyeahaugust! also for @buggachat because kelly started this with a drawing of an adrienette boba date and i spiralled :’)

Word Count: 6.2k

AO3

The shop is called Thirstea, a pun which makes Adrien laugh for a whole thirty seconds as he stares at the storefront.

“Seriously,” Marinette is saying as he pushes the door open for her. “You’ve seriously never had boba? At all?”

Adrien shifts his backpack. He’s hit with the smell of something sweet—foreign, as well, but it’s pleasant enough—and the sight of a bustling interior. A small line has already formed, so Marinette tugs him aside and points at the large menu displayed on a colorful board behind the cashier.

“You can decide on which flavour you want,” she tells him.

Adrien peers up at the board. There’s so many to choose from—hundreds, even—from milk tea to fruit tea to mixed flavours and smoothies and…

His head is spinning when he turns back to Marinette. “Do you have any recommendations?” Because I have absolutely no clue. “What do you usually get?”

She tilts her head. “I have five go-tos. Roasted milk tea is a classic, but the honeydew milk tea is pretty good as well if I want something fruity. If I want something lighter, I’ll get a fruit tea—I like lychee black tea. Uh… there’s also the real fruit bobas, and I usually get taro. Oh! And the matcha latte is one of their best. And I usually get it with tapioca, but if you want to be healthier, grass jelly or aloe vera both taste pretty good. But I mean, it is your first time here and you should probably try getting tapioca just to see if you like it. And brown sugar milk tea, but they said they ran out today…”

The words go in one ear and out another, because Adrien is too busy staring at the way she talks: enthusiasm shining in her eyes, the way she waves her hands in the smallest, cutest gestures to make her point, and…

“Adrien?” Marinette tilts her head. “Um, have you decided? Or do you need more time? Because that’s completely alright too.”

In a panic, he nods and blurts, “I’ve decided!”

She nods sagely, and they enter the line. Adrien has not yet in fact decided.

He continues to stare at the menu from the corner of his eyes, going through all the categories until he settles on real fruit smoothie. Adrien goes through the list: watermelon, strawberry, mango, peach, blueberry, raspberry, winter melon—

“What would you like to order?”

Adrien snaps back into reality. He is not ready to order.

Oblivious to his conundrum, Marinette smiles at the cashier and fetches her wallet out of her backup. “I’m paying for us both!” she tells the girl cheerily. “I’ll have a peach green tea with half ice and thirty percent sugar. With tapioca.”

Adrien gawks at her order. She’d lost him after peach green tea—is he supposed to order like that too?

“Adrien?” Marinette prompts, now waiting for the order that he does not have.

He squints at the menu again, hoping his panic isn’t visible on his face. He scans them. Watermelon. Strawberry. Mango. Peach. Blueberry. Raspberry. Winter melon. Durian.

Durian.

“Durian,” he settles.

Marinette’s mouth quite literally drops open.

He’s not too certain what’s that surprising about his order—is it the wrong thing to order? Perhaps it doesn’t exist on the menu and he’d hallucinated it. A double-check later and the word is still clearly imprinted underneath winter melon. “Marinette?” Adrien asks carefully. “Um, I’m not too sure about the sugar and ice—which do you usually choose?”

She finally snaps her mouth shut. “Durian?” Marinette echoes at last, ignoring his question.“Ah, are you certain about that?”

Adrien nods. “I can still add the pearls—the tapioca in, right?”

“Yeah,” she agrees absentmindedly, “but—durian?”

Adrien takes another peek at the menu. “The real fruit smoothie, right?”

“Have you… tried durian?” “When I was younger, once. Have you?”

Marinette swallows, and Adrien waits for her verdict, concerned. He’s honestly baffled why she’s so confused about his choice, but a moment later, Marinette squares her shoulders and gives the cashier a smile, this time slightly shaky. “And a durian smoothie with tapioca for him. Um, sugar and ice levels?”

Adrien has no clue what to ask for, so he tries, “The standard one for both...?”

Apparently that’s an acceptable answer because the cashier nods and jots down his order on a small notepad. Marinette pays, and they wait at the side for their order.

Marinette has gone quiet. She sorts through her bag for a little while, and Adrien waits in apprehensive silence. There’s quiet jazz music playing in the background and it makes him feel like he’s in an elevator. It’s becoming unbearably awkward.

Finally, Marinette lifts her eyes to look at him. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes. “I just… didn’t know you liked durian.”

“Oh.” He sounds equally awkward. “I liked the fruit the last time I had it which was about two years ago. Do you not like it?”

Her nose wrinkles. It’s cute. Wait, what?

“My mom really likes durian,” Marinette is explaining, and she motions with her hands again. “Apparently her hometown back in China had a dessert store that sold durian pastries and she had this brilliant idea of making them for Chinese New Year a couple months ago and the whole bakery reeked of durian and I could smell it all the way up into my room—” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I forgot you liked it.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he replies, flustered. Marinette has a habit of saying a lot in very little time and it doesn’t help that he gets easily distracted by her movements. “I didn’t realize durian was so… controversial. I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable or something with the smell.”

“I guess it’s not that popular here,” she replies with a shrug. “But my mom did say that people either hate or love durian. And the smell’s fine. I don’t like it, but once you spend a week with it stinking up your room, you kind of develop immunity.”

Just then, the waitress behind the counter sets down their two drinks. “For Marinette?” she calls.

Marinette takes the bag with a quick thank you, grabs two straws, and then returns to Adrien. She holds up their drinks.

Adrien takes the cup from her extended hand. The durian smoothie is a creamy white, and the black tapioca bubbles sit at the very bottom. He follows her movements as she shakes her cup then stabs a straw into it.

He can see Marinette eying him in his periphery as he raises the straw to his lips and takes a sip. The drink is cold and sweet and has a rich taste that explodes on his tongue in a plethora of flavours, and Adrien decides he likes it. He really likes it.

“So?” Marinette asks. Adrien wonders if she knows how skeptical her expression is. “Do you… like it?”

He chews on one of the pieces of tapioca. “Yes. Yeah, this is really great.”

The skepticism doesn’t disappear from her face, but she raises her boba to his. “Cheers,” Marinette says weakly.

***

On a good day, a cup of boba has two hundred fifty calories when the tapioca is replaced by grass jelly and the sugar level is brought to less than half. On a bad day, if her sweet tooth demands regular sweetness and tapioca, it can be driven up to seven hundred calories.

It’s why Marinette has begrudgingly limited herself—for the sake of her wallet and health—to only drink boba once a week.

And it’s why she and Chat Noir, decked in hoodies and track pants in an attempt to look normal, are lined up underneath the blazing sun at Thirstea.

Their disguises don’t do much, because a crowd has formed around them. First there are whispers of is that Ladybug and Chat Noir, then a girl summons up her courage to ask for a selfie, and finally, the press starts driving in. By the time that happens, they have luckily made it inside the shop, where the air-conditioning blasts out on the highest setting.

Another snap of the camera. Chat Noir is staring pensively at the menu when a thought hits Ladybug. “Have you ever had boba before?” she asks him.

He nods absentmindedly, still looking. Everyone in line is whispering or peering at them, and Ladybug sees a phone held up in the back, most likely recording.

They make it to the counter when Nadja Chamack and her team, armed with cameras and microphones, invades the shop. The girl at the register looks slightly overwhelmed and a little alarmed, but she doesn’t tell the press to leave.

“Ladybug!” Nadja calls. “You’ve been photographed once or twice coming to this shop in the past month—is this your favourite bubble tea shop?”

“Yup!” she replies.

“What’s your go-to order?”

“Depends on the day.” Ladybug turns back to the cashier, leaving Chat to deal with the press. He has the uncanny ability to drag on a brief topic for an unsolicitedly long amount of time. “I’ll have an original milk tea with tapioca,” she tells the cashier. “Regular ice and seventy percent sugar.”

The girl looks a little starstruck, but she jots down the order. With a tug on Chat’s tail, he turns around from entertaining the press to place his own order.

“One durian smoothie, please!” he chirps, chipper as always.

Ladybug chokes on air.

The girl taking their order also seems taken aback, but her recovery time is much quicker than Ladybug’s. Instead, offering him a quick, slightly strained smile, she jots his order down. “Is that all, then?”

Chat takes the chance to pay for both of their orders while she’s caught in her confusion. By the time Ladybug snaps back to her senses, it’s too late—Chat is already pulling aside to wait for their bobas to finish. Nadja and her crew take the chance to start their questions again.

“Chat Noir,” Nadja addresses when it’s clear Ladybug’s still out of commission. “If I heard you right, you chose a durian smoothie?”

He gives a nod so proud that Ladybug swears she dies a little inside.

“Could you tell us why? From what I know, durian is a well-debated fruit. Many people love it, but many also cannot stand the smell.”

Chat ponders the question thoughtfully. “The smell is rather funny,” he finally replies. “But I like the flavour! It has a very rich texture as well, and tastes pretty different from the smell, so it doesn’t actually taste bad.”

“Ladybug?” Nadja gestures for the cameras to face her. “What are your thoughts on durian?”

She’s too busy thinking about Adrien Agreste raising his cup of boba to bump against hers—a durian smoothie—and his casual enthusiasm for the fruit that Nadja’s words don’t even click in her brain. Who would’ve expected Chat Noir to have the same (terrible) taste as her crush? The coincidence leaves her feeling disjointed.

“Uh… Ladybug?” Chat waves his hand in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She finally snaps out of her reverie long enough to scramble for a response. Ladybug manages a sheepish smile in Nadja’s direction. “I’m doing fine, thank you.”

Chat frowns. “Ladybug, that wasn’t her question—”

Before either of them can say anything more, the girl making the drinks pops her head out from the counter. “Your drinks!” she says, then beams at both of them. “Here’s a buy-one-get-one free coupon! Please come by often!”

Chat’s eyes glimmer when he accepts his durian smoothie. Ladybug takes her own with much less enthusiasm. Focus is hard enough with the snap of Nadja’s cameras and the chaos all around them—the fact that an even larger crowd has gathered outside Thirstea in order to catch a glimpse of their favourite superheroes makes it worse. It’s all too much to take in, and Ladybug’s brain is still stuck on Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir and durian smoothies.

“We’re going to take off,” Chat tells Nadja, then waves at the camera. “See you guys around! Come on, LB.”

She allows him to drag her out of the store, then with a flick of his baton and a snap of her yo-yo they’re swinging off, bobas in hand and the rest of Paris watching them go.

But Ladybug isn’t thinking about them at all.

When they finally settle down somewhere secluded, Chat immediately stabs his straw through the top of his drink and takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. Ladybug can smell the scent of durian from where she’s sitting, and instinctively, she wrinkles her nose and shifts away. She pokes her straw into her own drink, still staring off at the distance.

A coincidence, yeah. Her crush and her partner both have awful taste in bubble tea flavours. It’s nothing but a coincidence.

“Are you going to drink yours?” Chat is asking, still slurping obliviously. “I wanna try your flavour.”

He makes a grab for her drink, and Ladybug ducks away. “Your breath smells like durian. You can’t drink from my straw.”

“Hey! Let me try!”

For a little while Chat wrestles for her drink, nearly spilling his own in the process. In the end he snatches out from her fingers, laughing raucously. Ladybug is giggling as well, forgetting about her predicament for the moment. This is what she’s used to; their routine of banter and playfulness that’s easy—it’s straightforward. Not confusing.

That snaps her right back to the problem. Chat sips her drink, smacking his lips in a purposefully annoying way, and makes his verdict. “Not bad. I like mine better. Wanna try?”

Ladybug shakes her head and reclaims her drink. As casually as possible, she asks, “Do you get boba often?”

“Mm, no. This is actually the second time I’ve gotten the drink.” He swirls his straw around. “Honestly, with all the percentages you give for the sugar and the ice, I’m not too sure what to say. My friend took me to get boba a little while ago, so…durian is actually the only flavour I’ve ever tried.”

A casual dump of information, information that really wouldn’t have meant anything. It’s vague enough that any other person wouldn’t have made any sort of connection; it’s the information they often share between each other.

Except for the fact that she—Ladybug, Marinette—might be the friend in question. And Chat Noir—Chat Noir is…

She stares across the building, where an ad of Adrien, the Fragrance is displayed.

No way.

“Um,” Ladybug stammers. “Your friend took you out for boba because you’ve never had it before?”

He’s painfully oblivious to her panic. “Yeah, about a week ago. You know, it’s pretty funny because she had a similar reaction to you when I ordered the durian smoothie. Apparently she hates the smell too.”

“Your friend?” Ladybug echoes.

“Yeah, my friend. Are you okay, m’lady?”

Can’t really breathe properly, so I’m not really okay, but youcan’tknowandIdon’treallyknowwhat’sgoingonrightnow—

“I, um, just realized I have something to do,” Ladybug stammers out, because it’s the only thing she can think of saying. She flails, but somehow manages to get to her feet. “Uh—uh, do you want my milk tea? I can’t swing around very well if I’m holding it because it might get on my suit and my hair—oh my God, my hair! I got ice cream once and tried to eat it while going around Paris on my yo-yo and it went so badly and honestly I feel like the bubble tea will do the same so you can drink mine too since I can just get another one by myself soon but I really gotta run—”

She all but shoves the cup into his confused hands. It’s a whole miracle Chat doesn’t drop it then and there, just like it’s a miracle Ladybug hasn’t screamed or slipped up or promptly tripped over air and simply… lay there crying.

“Ladybug–” she hears him call, but it’s interrupted by the zing of her yo-yo.

She takes off as fast as possible.

Marinette has never been so hasty in detransforming, but as she slips through the rooftop back into her room, she’s already calling Tikki out before she touches down onto her bed. She slams onto pillows and the soft mattress in her regular clothing, buries her face into the nearest cushion, and screams.

She really doesn’t deserve Tikki’s patience, but her kwami stays beside her and pats her with tiny paws until Marinette’s throat is hoarse and she has more or less yelled the remaining cinders of her panic and confusion into her pillow.

When Marinette finally raises her head to look at Tikki, her kwami has her hands on her hips. “Well?” she asks. “I didn’t want to interrupt your breakdown, but now that you’re through, can you tell me what it’s about?”

Marinette thinks about the cup of boba and the boy she’d left back on the roof. Then the one that sits in front of her in class, with the same shade of blonde hair and emerald eyes, both ordering durian boba.

“I think Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste,” she tells Tikki weakly.

Tikki has a scarily-good poker face. “Have you now,” she replies with calmness Marinette is incapable of. “And why do you think so?”

“Because—because—because they both like durian!” It comes out as a distressed wail.

Tikki ponders the question. Then replies, “I see.”

It’s such an awfully vague response that Marinette is tempted to bury her face into her pillow to scream some more. But she doesn’t, instead pulling out her notebook from the stand and a pencil. “I’m going to draw a venn diagram,” she announces with newfound determination. “I might just be jumping to a conclusion too quickly. And—and there was that one time when Chat was there but Adrien was too, right? When Gorizilla attacked?”

“Right,” Tikki agrees. “But you also did a similar trick with Multimouse and the fox Miraculous, so…”

“Chat didn’t have the fox or mouse Miraculous. Anyway… they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”

She puts that in the similar column. She thinks about it for a couple seconds more, and writes “composed” in Adrien’s column and “a mess” in Chat’s.

“Oh, come on.” Tikki flits closer. “You know very well Adrien isn’t as composed as you make him out to be. The only reason you don’t recognize it is because you’re even worse around him.”

Marinette stubbornly keeps those two where they are, even if she knows deep down that Tikki is right. For a while, she goes on making her list, with Tikki criticizing almost every decision she makes. Adrien Agreste has neat hair, a polite smile, the best grades in class and manners that would woo anyone’s parents. Chat Noir’s hair is messy and untamed, his smile is almost always accompanied with a raucous laugh and shutting up isn’t in his vocabulary. He steals food and drinks and everything he can from her whenever she brings it.

She scribbles and erases and thinks and stresses, getting a week’s worth of confusion down and then some.

“Marinette,” Tikki finally advises when Marinette has run out of ink. “Why don’t you just ask Adrien tomorrow at school subtly about it? If he didn’t mind telling Ladybug he went out for boba with Marinette, he probably wouldn't have qualms telling Marinette about getting boba with Ladybug. It’s not as if your identities need to remain a secret anymore.”

Ask Adrien.

Sure, they’re on good terms now. They’re friends. Marinette’s crush has faded into a more manageable level, and she can talk to him without her voice rising an octave higher than its usual key. She hasn’t tripped and fallen on her face in front of him for at least two weeks.

But this—with the possibility that Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir? To think she’d waxed poetic about Chat Noir to Tikki every night for months? It’s unspeakably insane to think about, and she doesn’t have the courage and probably never will but Marinette thinks she’s genuinely going to die if she doesn’t get closure—

“Okay,” she agrees at last, because it’s the only logical answer.

***

Adrien is the one who comes to find Marinette before she can go find him.

“Hey!” he calls from behind her.

In a quite frankly astonishing display of improvement, Marinette doesn’t scream or fall on her face, even if she does freeze for a good couple seconds too long.

“Uh… Marinette?” Adrien taps her shoulder. “I wanted to return the physics notes to you. You gave me your notebook from last time because I missed the class. Here.”

She takes the notes from him, movements stiff. A million words to say come piling from her throat, but they stick to the top of her mouth drily and none make it past her lips.

Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. They’re the same person? How can they be the same person? Is it just a huge coincidence? Who is Chat Noir? Who am I, even?

Before she can work herself into more of a panic, Marinette gives him a forced smile, hugging her notebook to her chest. “Thanks!” she shrieks. “I gotta—I gotta run. See you around!”

She trips over air on her way out, face beetroot.

***

“Listen,” Tikki whispers to her, munching on her cookie as Marinette locks herself in a stall of the girls’ washroom. “You gotta do it. Just… just don’t think that he’s Adrien Agreste. I heard imagining people as potatoes helps with stage fright?”

Marinette lets out a distressed noise. “Stage fright isn’t my problem, though!”

“Adrien fright? If you ask me, it’s pretty similar. Anyway, just ask him if he’s had bubble tea recently or something! You don’t know until you try. It won’t be that bad. What’s the worst case scenario?”

“That you-know-who turns out to be you-know-who!”

“We did not decide on these codenames.”

“Yeah, but what if someone hears—”

Tikki interrupts her by giving her a little pinch. “Calm down, Marinette! It’ll be fine. Besides, is it really that big of a problem if it’s true?”

No, it isn’t. Marinette has thought long and hard about it last night, lying awake on her bed, unable to sleep because of the heat and turbulent thoughts and theories all mixing together. Would it be a bad thing, if Chat turned out to be Adrien? No—she could think of a thousand more worse people for Chat to be, and if she were to be perfectly honest, no better person than Adrien. But at the same time, it’s overwhelming in the strangest way: the sort that sends her heartbeat spiking, thoughts scattering, stomach turning in a not-quite-unpleasant way.

Marinette really doesn’t know what to think about it, and that’s the scariest part.

“Okay.” Tikki interrupts her train of thought. “We should probably get going before you’re late for class. If you hurry, you can probably ask Adrien about it before the bell goes off.”

Marinette steels her back. “Okay,” she grinds out with wavering determination. “Okay, I’m gonna do it.”

Tikki lets out a squeak of Attagirl! before diving back into her purse. Marinette marches out of the stall, down the hallway, and into the classroom.

She really hates the way her throat still closes up when she scans the room and her eyes land on Adrien. All of a sudden, she’s reverted to herself months ago, when her crush on him had reached its peak; when she’d been a jumble of frayed nerves and blabbering and hand motions violent enough to whack any bystander that wandered too close.

No, Marinette tells herself firmly. No freaking out. No stuttering. I’m past that.

“Adrien,” she calls, and he turns away from his conversation with Nino.

“Hey!” his smile is a thousand watts too bright. “We were just talking about you. Nino said he’s never tried boba as well.”

The word boba nearly has her choking on spit. “Cool,” Marinette manages out. “That’s very… cool.”

Nino’s eyebrows furrow. “You okay?”

“Fine! Th-that’s great you want to introduce Nino to boba as well! I’m glad to hear you liked the drink.”

Marinette’s well aware that she sounds like a buffering tape-recorder right now. She marches to her desk, sits down just as stiffly, and pinches herself on the arm, out of Adrien and Nino’s sight. Alya has yet to arrive—it’s now or never, Marinette knows. The longer she waits, the more nervous she’ll make herself, and the harder it’ll be. So…

“Adrien!” she blurts out again, voice too loud. Even Rose and Juleka leave their conversation briefly to glance at her.

He’s good-natured as ever when he turns to her, and Marinette is struck with another wave of trepidation. It’s all too sudden. It’s all too much. She takes a deep breath, mind turning to absolute mush, and somehow stammers out, “Have you gotten boba since that one time?”

She really can’t blame him for looking so confused at her question, but to Adrien’s credit, he regains his composure rather quickly. The bewilderment on his face quickly shifts to mild curiosity.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I actually went yesterday with a friend. Thank you for introducing me! I’ll probably go more often now if I find the time.”

Marinette’s mouth is dry. Her hands are sweaty. Her head feels like it’s going to explode. Her heart has moved to her throat and she’s positive that it’s going to stop beating any moment now.

“Oh.” It’s the only noise Marinette feels mentally capable of forming. Sentences are hard. Speaking is impossible. “Um, yesterday?”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot yesterday. I went to Thirstea, actually!” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s the only boba shop I know at the moment so it doesn’t really mean anything, but… my friend who I went with really liked it too, so I think I’ll stick to Thirstea for now. Until I try all the flavours I want.”

Amidst her own confusion, Marinette somehow manages to think, if you wanted to try all the flavours you wanted why did you get durian again yesterday? It’s second nature: if the boy in front of her is Chat Noir—a fact that, despite the inconclusive results given by her venn diagram, is becoming more and more clear—then Marinette can’t help but want to tease him back.

Except if Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir and Chat Noir is Adrien… God. She’s just going in circles and getting nowhere closer to the final destination.

It doesn’t even hit Marinette that she hasn’t responded to Adrien and that’s why he’s staring at her so apprehensively. The shrill ringing of the bell startles all the class back into their seats, Adrien included, who shoots her a small smile before turning back around.

The rest of the period finds Marinette unable to pay the slightest bit attention. Mme. Bustier’s words travel in one ear, out the other, all muted static compared to the main problem at hand.

And a problem it is. She looks at Adrien’s golden head in front of her, imagining the flicker of black ears. If she reached down and mussed his hair up, it would look like Chat’s. They’re the same height too, to think of it. All the differences she had listed on her venn diagram seem to melt away, until Marinette is faced with one terrible, wonderful, conclusion.

***

She doesn’t confront Adrien about anything after the first period ends, nor does she at lunch, nor after. It’s too overwhelming to think of, but it hardly seems fair to keep him in the dark. When she asks Tikki to confirm at lunch, the only thing her kwami does is shrug with an indecipherable expression on her face—Marinette takes it as a verification.

But it’s a different story after school. By then, Marinette has made up her mind.

Her first stop is Thirstea. It’s not as sweltering as it were the day before, even if she has to wipe the sweat from her forehead after waiting fifteen minutes outside. The store isn’t as bustling now that Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t there, so Marinette takes advantage of the peace to calm her thoughts. They have patrol in thirty minutes; she has thirty minutes to gather her thoughts and figure out how she’s going to come through with this. But is thirty minutes really going to help? She’s had the whole day alone to her thoughts, and, like it or not, she’s barely gotten anywhere.

When she finally gets her order—a fruit tea for herself, a durian smoothie for Chat Noir—Adrien Agreste—there’s only twenty three minutes to go.

Marinette transforms into Ladybug, hidden in an alley, and goes to wait for her partner to show up on the rooftop they agreed to. Then, once she’s reached the rooftop, she calls off her transformation.

The boba is still cold in her bag, so she wraps her hand around them to fend off the blistering heat from the sun. It’s uncomfortable, waiting like this, but physical discomfort is still better than working up a storm in her own thoughts, which Marinette is trying to distance herself from. They come in waves of stress, anxiousness, uncertainty, and fear. But she has to do this.

Her mood must’ve been evident enough for Tikki to feel, even though her kwami has slipped inside her purse to give her thoughts some space. She pokes her head out.

“Marinette,” Tikki says, a hint of concern in her tone. “You don’t have to do this now if you’re not ready, you know. Chat Noir will understand.”

Marinette, having resorted to biting her nails—she must be really nervous, because that’s a habit she’d gotten rid of years ago—shakes her head. “I can’t keep pushing it back. It’s one thing not revealing each other’s identities, but now that I know… I can’t just… not tell him. It’s not possibly fair, not when he’s waited for so long.”

“...are you happy that it’s Adrien?” This question is more tentative, quieter.

Marinette props her chin in her hands and stares at the skyline. Is she happy that it’s Adrien?

“Yeah,” she replies. “Yeah, I am.”

***

Chat Noir vaults over onto the roof, and he’s six minutes early. Marinette sees him before he sees her; she watches him look around for a couple of seconds, slightly confused.

She takes a deep breath and steps out of the shade of the door. “Chat Noir!” she calls.

He jumps around. “M’lady, you—”

His voice trails off. “M-marinette? I—uh, hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I was actually going to find Ladybug but I might’ve gotten the wrong building! What—what, uh, are you doing up here?”

After a day of planning out the words to say, it’s rather funny how she can’t even form a semblance of the sentences she’s thought up.

It’s also a miracle in and of itself that she doesn’t stutter, panic, or go absolutely speechless. Even if her script lays lost and forgotten in the back of her head, Marinette says in a surprisingly steady voice, “I was actually waiting for you.”

Chat Noir doesn’t move from where he’s standing, so she heads towards him. “Did… Ladybug tell you I was going to be here?”

“Uhmh,” is the noise that makes its way out of Marinette’s mouth. She clears her throat and tries again. “I brought you boba because it’s hot today,” she explains. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

She sees it behind his eyes; questions, confusion, but most importantly, the beginning notes of a realization.

“Wait.” He doesn’t budge from his spot, eying her cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About the fact that you’re probably Adrien Agreste?”

Even the air, laden with the heat of the day, seems to still between them. Marinette looks up at him, and his reaction is the only confirmation she needs that she is indeed right.

Chat Noir’s reaction is less loud than she had expected. It’s shock, probably, the stage that Marinette has been stuck in for the good part of the day, because he still remains frozen. Then, in a shaky uncertain voice, he asks, “Ladybug?”

Her next breath escapes her in the form of a huff, a half-choked laugh. “We’re idiots.”

His lips lift into a wavering smile. “What.”

And then Marinette is laughing, because it’s so stupid. All the pent-up emotions come tumbling out uncontrollably and she’s laughing and laughing, doubling over and clutching at her stomach and nearly dropping her bag of their boba drinks.

Through her own giggles, she hears Chat mumble, “Oh my God,” and the way he says it makes everything all the more hilarious.

When Marinette finally gathers herself enough to straighten, she’s wiping tears from her eyes. Chat Noir is watching her, although his expression has softened into something that looks suspiciously close to fondness.

“Is this why you asked me about boba this morning?” he questions. “If I’d gone to get it with a friend?”

Marinette gives her eyes one last wipe. “Yeah. I just—when you ordered durian boba yesterday and all that you said—it was too suspicious for me to ignore.”

“Oh.” He tugs his hands through his hair—messy golden hair, how hadn’t she noticed how similar Chat and Adrien always were?—and lets out another groan. “Oh. I’m dumb.”

“You could’ve been any other person if I hadn’t been, well, me,” Marinette points out. “Tikki told me it’s due time, anyway. But yes, you’re dumb. So am I.”

“My identity got exposed because I ordered a durian smoothie?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Oh my God.”

She’s beginning to see why Tikki had found it endlessly amusing watching her panic. Instead of further antagonizing Chat, Marinette reaches into her bag to take out his durian smoothie. She stuffs it into his arms, and he’s too confused to do anything but accept the drink and the straw it comes with.

“Don’t worry,” she reassures him before she can stop herself. “I won’t tell anyone that number one model Adrien Agreste runs around Paris in a leather catsuit. My lips are sealed.”

The moment the words leave Marineette’s mouth, she feels her face heat up. It’s one thing to tease him before, now it feels like she’s treading on the edge of a cliff with a long, long drop. He’s still her partner, but there’s another aspect that they will figure out—with time, undoubtedly—and now is too soon to push it so much.

To her relief, Chat Noir’s face lights up, and a much wider smile slips across his face. “I’m still in shock, you know,” he tells her. If that’s his in-shock voice, then Marinette is thoroughly impressed. “But thank you. My father might have a bone to pick with this outfit if he ever found out.”

Relief is cool against the heat. “Your father won’t be the only one with the bone to pick with you,” she replies. “The bell is quite a… bold statement.”

He laughs once more. “I happen to like the bell the best, so I don’t know what your problem is.”

He has no business to smile so brightly like that, Marinette thinks to herself. In front of her is the boy she’s turned down countless times—the same one she would wax lyrical to Tikki every night before bed. God, what a coincidence. Or really, what a stroke of luck.

She’s jolted from her thoughts when Chat stabs his straw into his durian smoothie with a loud pop.

“Do you want to talk?” Marinette offers. “Somewhere shadier, that is? You probably have a lot of questions. I know I do.”

Chat nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would work.”

She starts towards the small door on the rooftop, then stops when she realizes that Chat hasn’t been following her. Instead, his gaze is fixed thoughtfully on his drink, like he’s contemplating something important.

“Chat?” Marinette prompts. “Hey, are you okay?”

Then his face brightens. “I’m taro-bly sorry,” he says. “I just got distracted because you’re such a cu-tea.”

Marinette’s jaw drops open. It’s not that she’s particularly surprised by the pun, given his penchant for dropping them at the most terrible (taro-ble?) of moments, but she had half the mind to believe she’d permanently shocked the humour out of Chat Noir. Moreover, the fact that it’s Adrien Agreste saying these so casually is still new to her.

The grin he gives her is absolutely shit-eating, yet somehow, it works perfectly in her mind on Chat’s face as it does on Adrien’s. It also snaps her out of her reverie.

“Now my head is going to explode,” Marinette grumbles. “C’mon, cat-boy. We have a lot to discuss.”

He catches up with her with a quick jog, still slurping out of his boba. “I’m glad it’s you,” he tells her when they fall side-by-side. “In case you didn’t know.”

Marinette hides her grin behind her own drink, but she thinks Chat catches it nonetheless. “Me too,” she tells him. “Even if you have terrible taste in boba.”

“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have terrible taste,” he points out, and they both share a laugh.

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist!

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #this was ridiculously long holy crap #identity reveal #boba reveal #its been a while kids #mlb fic #my writing

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dangerouslyallaboutdraco · 3 years

Text

Memento

A/n: Set during OOTF or 5th year but before anything can go down with Umbridge. Everything in just italics is a flashback and everything in bold and italics is a diary entry. Y/n and Draco are both prefects with their own rooms.

With a quick look at your watch, you see it’s almost 8:30. "I have to go and get my potions quiz back, are you going to be alright here?" You asked, looking over at your boyfriend, Draco, who was sitting on your bed.

He looked up from the book he was reading. "Can't you go in the morning?" He pleaded. Draco had been much more clingy of late but you didn’t mind, although when you had to leave you always felt bad.

“Sorry, Snape is being the worst.” You tried to explain, he nodded at you.

“I can get him to stop.” He offered but you shook your head. “Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” He looked tired, hair a bit out of place and a few buttons were undone on his silk pyjama top.

“Of course.” You tell him, stepping closer to your bed and placing a kiss on his forehead. The sneaking between bedrooms was a common thing by now, figuring out how to break the enchantments and the use of a few charms to keep you protected. Plus, was it a violation of the rules if everyone did it?

“It’ll only take a few minutes, I just have to go down to class and pick it up.” You continued to explain as you put your robes on.

“It’s all good,” Draco tells you with a slight smile.

“Hey.” He looked back up at you. “Do you mind getting my matching pyjamas? I think they're in my closet.” There was nothing more you want than to snuggle up with Draco in bed and sleeping in because it was Friday night.

He nodded towards you. “Of course, baby.” There was that sweet smile again that you loved so much

“Bye, love.” You quickly open and close the door before walking off to Snape’s classroom.

Now Draco was left in your room, bored by the book he was reading and uninterested by everything else. He deserted the book on the bed and decided he’d get the pyjamas for you and maybe find something else to do.

Silently, he opened the closet door and looked around for the pyjamas. Just as he was about to reach for his wand and Accio it out when he saw the pink hatbox the pyjamas came in. Or more precisely he brought it in.

As he pulled down the box he noticed it definitely had something in it. He took it over to the bed and slid the lid off the circular box. Much to his surprise, there weren’t pyjamas in it, just a collection of what looked like random things. A few pieces of jewellery, a journal, 3 chocolate frog boxes, a green piece of parchment, two tubes of face paint and some confetti. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him so he picked up the journal, flipping to the first page.

It was a diary entry that took him back to

September 1st, 1st year

The first chocolate frog box.

Dear Diary,

Today was my first day at Hogwarts, I was beyond nervous. Mother and father dropped me off at the platform and the train just looked amazing. I couldn’t help but feel like an annoying first year but I did stand there and gawk at everything. Once I said goodbye to mother and father I got on the train. I’m going to miss them but I’m so excited to go to Hogwarts. On the train, I sat alone before a boy walked in.

Draco knew what was coming next and he smiled at the memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago.

He said his name was Draco Malfoy and he came in with his parents, they probably know mine. It was nice of him to talk to me and we found out that Harry Potter was on the train just before we got to Hogwarts. Honestly, I’m pretty amazed, he’s the chosen one and now I go to school with him.

Draco just rolled his eyes at you fawning over Harry but he kept reading.

Before that, though we were on the train and the honeydukes express came around and I brought a chocolate frog. Draco didn’t know how I could eat something so bland but I really like them. He got Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and one of them was dog food flavoured. It was funny watching him spit it out the window. I’m going to keep this box with memories from my time at Hogwarts so I’m starting with a chocolate frog box.

He stopped reading and looked for the card he assumed would be in the chocolate frog box and it was.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll enjoy it.” Your father said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. The platform was bursting with people, students from 7th year all the way down to 11-year-old you. You could feel the fair throughout your body and your hands had been shaking a little all morning.

Maybe there was a bit of excitement too but you were yet to see anyone your age on the platform which made you more nervous. Although according to your parents there were going to be far fewer kids in your year than any other.

“I should get on, I want to get a good seat.” You told your parents, sort of wanting them to leave so your adventure could begin. They nodded, checking you had all the right bags once more before helping you put your stuff into a compartment and then finally leaving.

There was a part of your heart that hurt as you saw them go but the thought of Hogwarts, which had been your dream since you were 5, was enough to keep you from getting too homesick.

You sat in the train compartment alone while a stream of older students walked by. Then a boy with pale blonde hair slid the door open. “Sorry, I thought this one was free.” He said after he noticed you, looking out the window. He looked about your age but shorter than you so he probably couldn’t have been any older.

“No, it’s okay.” You replied quickly, hoping to make a friend before you get to Hogwarts. “You can sit here too.” You offer, gesturing to the seat opposite you.

He shrugged and walked into the compartment with a bag in his hands before two adults walked in behind him. You assumed they were his mother and father, both with pointed bone structure and the same platinum hair. You felt a little awkward being there so you tried to focus your gaze out the window.

“Are you alright here?” The woman asked, looking at the boy. She was dressed very nicely, in a midi dress with a black cape and you came to the assumption they were a rich family. Her nails were manicured, hair done smartly and she held herself well.

The boy looked back at her. “Yes, mother.” He said, sounding as you felt you sounded when talking to your parents. “You can go now.” Oh yes, he was definitely experiencing the embarrassment you felt with your parents here.

“We should leave, Narcissa.” The man said, obviously addressing the woman or Narcissa. He was dressed well, too, an all-black suit for no reason. But he seemed off, something about him just sounded mean. “Goodbye, son.”

“Bye.” The boy replied before Narcissa could engulf him in a hug. She seemed to be nurturing towards him, much unlike the man.

He looked uncomfortable but let her place a kiss on his head. "See you later, honey. Send me an owl once you’re there.” She said, giving him a final look before walking out of the compartment and out of sight.

“I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.” He muttered, sinking into the seat next to you but you just shook your head.

“My parents were doing the same thing.” You informed him, trying to make him feel better. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” You tell him, sticking your hand out so he could take it.

He shook it from across the compartment. “Draco Malfoy.” He introduced. Draco must have been rich due to the fact he used his full name.

“Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?” You asked him, still trying to make a friend. That was your first-day goal.

“No.” He snorted a little, almost in disgust. “Father wanted to send me to Europe, said Hogwarts had become a bit second-class with all the muggles and half-bloods but Mother wanted me closer to the family and continue their legacy at Hogwarts.” He explained, staring out the window. You almost could believe how disgusted you were in him, how could an 11-year old think like that? “You’re a muggle?” He almost said in disgust.

“No, pureblood.” You confirm, not feeling comfortable around him anymore. If this was the type of friend you were going to get then it’s not the Hogwarts you had dreamed about.

He looked more satisfied with your answer. “Good.” You were just about to stand up and leave when the train conductor blew the whistle and the train tutted and puffed as it left the station.

“You know, I’ve been excited to come to Hogwarts for 6 years and no stuck-up brat like you is going to change that.” You tell him sternly, having had enough of his attitude.

He looked shocked by your confrontation. “Sorry.” Was all he muttered out, cheeks going red with shock and embarrassment.

“It’s okay, what do you like to do?” You asked, trying to get the conversation started again.

It worked, you and Draco talked about your lives and houses and by the time you heard the trolley outside you felt as though you few a lot about him.

“Anything of the trolley, dears?” The trolley lady asked as she opened the door. You quickly get the money out of your bag.

“One Chocolate Frog, please.” You ask, handing her the correct amount of money before taking it off her hands.

Draco was right behind you. “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.” He said, handing over some of his own money. You sat back in your seat and once he got his beans he did the same thing.

“A Chocolate Frog? Really?” He asked, looking at you like you had two heads while he opened his box of beans.

You looked at him with the same look and opened the frog before taking a bite of it. “I like them.” You tell him honestly.

“They’re too plain.” He complained again putting one of the beans in his mouth. You watched in anticipation of how his face was going to change with whatever flavour he got. “Watermelon.” He said, sounding pleased with the bean.

You had hoped it would be something gross, maybe as means of karma after his last comment. “I think those beans are gross. My cousin fed me them once and I got earthworm.” Even thinking back to the memory made you want to spit out your chocolate. Draco just laughed out loud at your memory.

“That’s funny. What card did you get?” He asked, pointing to the packet. You pulled the card out and looked at the name on it.

“Salazar Slytherin.” You tell him, turning the card around so he could see it.

His face lit up at that. “That’s like the best one there is.”

You just shrugged at his comment. “I’ve already got it if you want it.” You tell him as you pass the card over to him. He took it.

“Thank you.” There was a little smile on his face as he put the card away somewhere safe. You wouldn’t know until much later but that was the only one he had missing from his collection, and you were the lucky charm who gave it to him.

You sat there together eating your sweets before his face started to change, it went green very fast and he rushed to the window to open it and spit out a bean.

Once he sat down he saw you looking at him with concern. “Dog food.” He explained and your face screwed up.

As Draco thought about that day from his point of view he wished more than anything that he could go back to that moment on the train with you, do it all over again without staring your first conversation in such a negative way.

He flicked over to the next page, missing a entries that seemed to be about day to day life at Hogwarts.

October 31st, 3rd year.

The second chocolate frog box

Dear Diary,

Today was the first trip to Hogsmeade! I was so excited when I woke up, even more, because Draco Malfoy had said he would ‘see me there.’

Draco let out a chuckle at the thought of your writing down his full name and geeking out over how much you liked him. It wasn’t new information to him, you had talked about it late at night in his bed, but he definitely thought it was funny to read 13-year-old you’s diary and here what you were thinking then.

I definitely like him. We all gathered out from and I smiled over at him and when he smiled back I almost died. Once we got to the village you shopped with Pansy and Daphne for a little bit before I snuck away to stand around and look lonely so Draco would see me (great plan, I know)

He had to laugh at that again, it was just beyond funny. Almost like he was reading the script for a very bad, cheesy, romance movie. But for some reason it made something inside him burst with happiness.

But he did see me and he asked me to Honeydukes with him. I know it wasn’t a date but it felt like one.

Draco wished it was a date and he wanted to ask you out but he was far too afraid to say the words so instead, he just asked if you wanted to go to Honeydukes instead.

This was the box from the chocolate frog I got.

“Isn’t this just the most exciting weekend?” Pansy asked immediately once you opened your eyes, you were sort of creeped out by that girl.

As you squinted and sat up she continued to race around the room, getting dressed in the perfect outfit. “You’re insane.” She really did scare you.

“Get dressed, we’re meant to be outside in 2 hours.” The urgency in her didn’t match the time she was talking about.

You checked the clock to see it was only 8. “Seriously, Pans, I could have slept longer.” That girl had kept you up all night talking about today. She just gave you a look and you hauled yourself out of bed. “You’re mental.”

She didn’t even look bothered as she started putting on makeup and doing her hair. Once you’d found an outfit, thought about changing for Draco, put on makeup, thought about Draco, fixed your hair and thought about Draco again Pansy was rushing you out the door, insisting you were going to be late.

You weren’t late. You were a half-hour early so you waited on a bench with Pansy and Daphne and watched the snowfall. Thankfully, you’d grabbed your winter coat.

Finally, McGonagall got there and checked off everyone’s names before you could leave. The whole year was buzzing with excitement but Pansy seemed to be the most excited, by her talking anyway. It was incessant and in your ear.

The village was everything you’d imagined it would be and it looked so much prettier in the snow.

Pansy insisted on seeing almost all of the shops, with you and Daphne in tow. And it was actually quite fun. You were able to buy some new books and a quill you had been wanting.

When she decided to get her hair done you knew that was you time to put your plan in action. “I’ve actually got to go but I’ll see you in the dorms.” You said, quickly walking away while Pansy and Daphne walked off to get in chairs to get their hair done.

“Wait!” Daphne yelled after you but you’d already shut the door with one last look at their surprised faces.

You walked around for a while until you saw Draco standing a little bit away and sit down on a bench to put your plan into action. You continued to wait patiently until you were sure he’d seen you. Then it was only a few minutes wait before he walked over.

“Sitting alone for any reason?” He asked, his voice sounding almost concerned.

You tried for the best mock surprise look you could manage as you looked up at his unfairly attractive blonde hair, almost falling in his eyes. As you’d watched it grow out this year you were convinced it was the best haircut he’d had. By now he was quite a bit taller than you and puberty had hit him like a truck since the end of 2nd year.

You couldn’t help but smile at how attractive he looked. “Not really.” You reply, trying to act calm.

“Pansy and Daphne not taking care of you?” There was that concerned side of him you loved to see.

“They are.” You confirm, trailing off without knowing what else to add. “I just didn’t want to get my hair done.”

He nodded, keeping the same tall stature in front of you. “Don’t, it looks nice the way it is.” His compliments, however inconsistent, always gave you the feeling that he liked you.

“Thanks.” You tell him, thankfully the cold weather was a reasonable explanation for your blush.

There was an awkward moment, just for a second, before Draco spoke again. “Do you want to go to Honeydukes with me?” To start with it sounded a lot like he was asking you out. “I’m going there anyway.” So it wasn’t a date.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up and walking with him through the snow. His hand was right next to yours but you were too scared to take it in yours. As you walked other students walked past you, a few saying ‘hi’ to Draco.

You’d been past Honeydukes with Pansy and Daphne but inside it was like a vision straight out of your dreams. Draco was also admiring the decor before he walked to the counter and ordered. “A chocolate frog and some Bertie Bott’s beans.” Was all he said before paying.

“You didn’t have to buy me that.” You tell him quickly as he handed it over to you.

He just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I should have asked if they were still your favourite.”

Then you shook your head ending on a “They are, thank you.”

“Should we go back then?” He asked once you were out in the snow again. You nodded again before beginning the short walk back to Hogwarts.

The conversation wasn’t awkward but there was just something missing as you tried to hide your feelings for him.

With the thought of the day Draco wished he’d asked you out, he flipped the page until he found the next diary entry that corresponded to an object.

June 2nd, 3rd year

The green parchment note

Out of curiosity Draco picked up the parchment and looked at it. The rough edges of the green note were obvious to its age and how dear it was to you. While he didn’t remember what was on it at first once he read his own neat handwriting he remembered. This was going to be a fun one to read.

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow is our 3rd-year final exams and if you told me I’d be this happy as I wrote in my diary tonight I would have told you something really good must have happened but what happened today was 100x better than amazing. I was sitting in the library just studying the exam tomorrow, for once not thinking about Draco and then he came in, we passed notes before he asked me to the Quidditch world cup before school next year! I have waited for this for like half a year and now it’s happening!

Draco could sense the excitement jumping through the page and it made him giggle a little bit as he tried to sense how you were feeling.

You sat next to Daphne in the library as you flicked through your potions textbook. If you were honest, it was a bit boring but if you didn’t do well your parents were likely to make you study the whole summer holidays or even get a tutor.

Pansy was supposed to be there but instead, she’d decided to hang out with Theodore instead, in her usual fashion of not caring about much besides boys. Even though her parents were likely to kill her.

“Do you get this?” Daphne asked, pointing to a part of the charms book you actually understood. Charms might have not been your best class but it was definitely Daphne’s worst.

“I’ll explain it but then you’ve got to explain this part of potions.” You offered, sliding over your book as you pointed to a part of the potions work you were beyond confused about.

She nodded and you started talking her through the problem. As you were explaining it you noticed her looking behind you at the door. “What is it?” You ask, her attention switching back to you before you turned around and looked over your shoulder to see Draco and Blaise standing there.

Feeling brave, you smiled at him before giving him a little ‘hi’ wave. And much to your surprise, he nudged Blaise before they both walked over. Next to you, Daphne was freaking out (she was harbouring a not so discreet crush on Blasie)

“Wanna go for a walk?” Blaise asked once he got over, clearly to Daphne and not even acknowledging your presence.

“Hi Blaise, how are you?” You ask sarcastically as Daphne packed up her books, earning a smirk from Draco’s pretty face. “Also, Daph, this?” You ask, motioning to the work in front of you.

Blaise just rolled his eyes at your usual antics and Daphne smiled. “Get Draco to explain it to you.” She shrugged before winking at you while the boys weren’t looking, she knew about your major crush on Draco from all the times you’d told her and all the flirting you’d done in class.

As she picked up her stuff he took her spot at the small library table. You’d only glanced at his face but his whole attitude seemed casual.

Draco didn’t say anything until they walked off. “What are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you looked up at him.

“Trying to study.” You explained shortly.

He just nodded but you were trying to avoid watching him, why didn’t this potions work make sense?

From somewhere he’d acquired a piece of parchment and a quill. You tried to ignore him writing on a piece but once he slid it over to you it was impossible not to.

You read what was written on it ‘what subject?’ in Draco’s neat handwriting.

“Potions.” You reply out loud, sliding the paperback.

As you tried to draw your attention back to your book he wrote on it again. And then slid it over. ‘Write on the parchment!’

‘sorry’ you wrote back before attempting to read a chapter of your book.

When he slid it over again you shot him an annoyed look before reading what he’d written on it. ‘what didn’t you get?’

‘chapter 8 but I think I do now’ you wrote in reply, maybe this would be fun.

He nodded as he read it. ��I’m sure you do’ was written in reply

Now you were sensing a problem with writing instead of talking, there was no place for tone. Was Draco complimenting you or teasing you? You assumed the latter and came back with ‘We can’t all be Snape’s golden boy’

His reply was not what you were expecting. ‘You could be my golden girl.’ He shot you a wink

But you didn’t show him you were putty in his hands. ‘no thanks, Malfoy.’ You looked away while he read it.

Then the paper was back in front of you. ‘You're cute when you say no.’

You didn’t have a reply to that. All you could do was try to contain your blush, it didn’t work.

Because you still had the parchment Draco wrote something on another piece and slid it over to you. ‘Come to the Quidditch world cup with me before school next year.’

“What?” You asked, concerned about whether or not he was being serious. Usually, he was but his invitation was a surprise.

He didn’t even reply on the paper. “Come to the Quidditch world cup with me.” He was looking very confident in himself and there was something very hot about it.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. “Now can you help me with this?” You asked in frustration, showing him the book.

“I knew you didn’t get it,” Draco told you with a smirk, moving over next to you to and explaining it.

As Draco looked at the note with ‘come to the quidditch world cup with me before school next year’ written on it and it took him right back to the first time he asked you out. Even though he recalled the nerves he had they were nothing compared to going to the Quidditch world cup.

August 18th, summer before 4th year

The face paint

Dear Diary,

Today was the big day! Malfoy seriously should think about where he takes girls on first dates because the Quidditch world cup is a pretty big event

There was a little smile playing on Draco’s lips as he read the diary in your voice, imagining you were speaking it to him. He wondered if you knew at that point that there weren’t any other girls he would be taking out. He wondered if you knew now but he was relatively sure you did.

I was beyond nervous, it took me a week to find an outfit but once I saw Draco I did feel better. We meet where the tents were and the Malfoy tent was amazing. Although meeting Narcissa and Lucius was even scarier than seeing Draco I don’t think it went horribly. The match was amazing and Lucius had the best seats. Ireland won, I kept the tube of face paint Draco and I put on. The day ended a lot differently than it started and I’m writing this from Malfoy Manor, which is also incredible. I’ll write about it more tomorrow because I’m very tired now.

Draco remembered that quidditch game better than any other he’d ever played, although he spent most of the game looking at you rather than the game.

Draco and you had been sending owls to each other through the whole summer before you were due to meet. From what you had eaten for breakfast to how you were feeling about the looming pressure of next year. By the middle of August Draco knew everything there was to know about you.

Occasionally you felt like this was some different person, not even Draco, but as you saw him standing there you were sure that this softer version of Draco was the boy signing his letters ‘D xx’

“Found it alright?” He asked as you walked over, peeking behind him and into the tent he was resting on. Just as he had told you it would be, the tent was black with dark green curtains pulled over the front and a golden snake statue running along the roof.

Since the last time you saw him, he’d only gotten taller and let his hair grow out more. Now it was style slickly with a side part. He had one of his best black suits on and you could see more ring adorning his fingers.

You nodded at him with a slight smile. “Yeah, are we going inside?”

“Come here.” He said with a smile, opening up his arms and taking a step back to you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around him, taking in his cologne you’d only ever smelt from afar. There was something so comforting about being wrapped in his arms. “Missed you.” He added, making you smile.

Although at Hogwarts you weren’t really close with Draco, the letters between you over summer had solidified your relationship. “Missed you too.” You tell him before you pulled away, smiling at him again.

“Wanna come see inside?” He asked and you quickly nodded. He took your hand and pulled back the curtain, walking you in. Inside you could see traditional and expensive-looking furniture, from the black ornate couches in the living room with a fireplace to the dining room chairs and table leading to the enormous kitchen and finally a hallway which you assumed lead to the bedrooms. Every single thing was perfectly in place

Draco watched you as you gazed around. “It’s amazing.” You mutter out, still feeling faint about how Draco was actually holding your hand. His fingers were cold and boney and his rings even colder.

There was a smile thrown in your direction. Before he could say anything else Lucius and Narcissa walked into the room and he immediately dropped your hand and the smile from his face. You watched as his lips drew into a tight line and he looked over at his parents.

“Mother, Father, this is Y/n, my...” There was a little pause. “Friend.” He landed on awkwardly in his introduction.

You attempted to keep the disappointed look off your face as you reached over to shake Lucius’ colder hand and Narcissa’s slightly warmer one. “It’s nice to meet you.” You conversed, trying to be as polite as possible.

It’s not as though there had been a discussion around what your relationship was but it was definitely more than friends.

“The girl on the train,” Narcissa remembered and you nod silently. The same as that day she was dressed to the nines in a beautiful black dress with her hair in a curled updo. There was a slight smirk on her face as she looked at the space between you and Draco.

Lucius remained next to her, hands now clasped behind his back. He had on a suit similar to Draco but more elaborate. Unlike Narcissa’s almost happy face Lucius’ was drawn into a straight frown almost looking mad. He hadn’t even said a word yet.

“I’m going to show Y/n around,” Draco told them, breaking the awkward silence. His voice was much softer and less authoritative around his parents you’d noticed. Narcissa nodded as she moved to the kitchen and Draco began walking out of the room, you following.

“Draco,” Lucius murmured in his usual low voice, making Draco back and look at him. “We’ll leave in a half-hour.” He instructed in a strict tone making Draco nod to him. In the presence of Lucius, you felt utter fear.

Draco showed you down the hallway, pointing out various sets of curtains that lead to different bedrooms, bathrooms and a study.

“And this is my room.” He told you proudly as he pulled the green velvet curtains open and let you in. It was sort of how you imagined his bedroom at the Manor to be like, from the description he’d sent in his letters.

As you looked from the dark mahogany 4 post bed to the chair in the corner, similar to those in the living room Draco sat down on the bed.

“This whole place is incredible.” You told him, looking over your shoulder at him as you looked at the intricate patterns on the tent walls in between rooms.

Draco just laughed at you. “Wait till you see the Manor if you’re impressed by this.” In all honesty, you couldn’t wait to see the Manor.

"So.” You uttered, taking a seat next to Draco awkwardly.

“So.” He replied.

“What was all that stuff about-”

“I’m sorry about-”

You both went to talk at the same time, making it even more awkward. And a blush appearing on both of your cheeks.

Draco jumped in quickly. “You go first.”

“What are we?” You ask, trying to avoid making eye contact with him by staring at your lap.

“I was going to say that I’m sorry about calling you, my friend.” He chuckled dryly. It comforted you that he was concerned about how you were feeling. “I just don’t talk to my parents a lot about my personal life so they don’t really know about any of my friends or the girls I like-”

“Girls?” You interrupt with a giggle once Draco’s cheeks had heated up again.

He rolled his eyes at you before clarifying. “A girl. Basically what I’m saying is I’m sorry I didn’t tell them we weren’t just friends.” It was fun to watch him all flustered.

“It’s okay, Draco. I just didn’t know if you felt the same way.” You tell him shyly.

“I do.” He hurried out, looking you in the eyes. “You’re really great and getting to write to you this summer has been the best thing.” He told you truthfully.

“So we’re like dating?” You asked just to clarify.

He nodded shyly, an odd side of Draco you didn’t often get to see. “Yeah, dating.” There was something really sweet about how he sounded so happy.

“Oh, look what I brought.” You tell him as you look through your bag. A second later you pulled out two tubes containing green and white face paint. Draco looked a little confused but he was still grinning. “For Ireland.” You explained.

Draco nodded. “Okay, you do mine and I’ll do yours.” He instructed as he brushed his hair off his face. You got to work, using your finger to swipe the paint over his smooth, pale skin and sharp cheekbones. You could sense him staring at you but you kept your eyes on your finger. Despite his expensive, intoxicating cologne, you were able to keep your hand even and breathing steady.

Once you were finished you grabbed the mirror on his dresser to show him your work. He looked from the mirror to your face with a wide grin. “Looks good.” He confirmed before he took the tubes from your hands and opened the cap.

He took your face in one hand, his thumb along the left side of your jaw and his forefinger running along the right side. Gently, he put his finger on your cheekbone as he applied the facepaint.

“Here, look.” He told you, showing you what he’d done to your face. Surprisingly, it was actually very good. “I’ve got to show you something in the living room, too.” He said as he got up and put his hand in yours to take you back out to the lounge.

Draco remembered the game far less than he remembered hanging out with you before the game and then after.

Next, he picked up the last chocolate frog box. Before flipping through the journal again to find the corresponding entry

September 1st, 4th year

The third chocolate frog

Dear Diary,

Today was the first day of 4th year. I am have been beyond excited for this year to start since the Quidditch World Cup now that Draco and I are officially dating. I was a little bit nervous to be around Draco and all of our friends but it was alright in the end, after a copious amount of teasing. z

Draco let out a little chuckle at his memory of announcing your relationship to your friends before reading onwards.

I just have a feeling that this year is going to be really great for Draco and I as well as our whole friend group.

Now Draco thought about all the good memories he had of last year, everything from hanging out in the common room to sneaking around in between classes.

But anyway, on the train Draco had a chocolate frog already waiting for me, I’m not sure how because you can usually only get them on the train to Hogwarts but I really do appreciate it. Just like first year, I kept the box.

Draco still remembered how he got the chocolate frog, he’d gotten his owl to go flying to Hogsmeade to get it before he got on the train.

Over summer break you hadn’t told Pansy or Daphne what had happened between you and Draco but now that you were standing at platform 9 and 3/4 without your parents for the first time since you felt very excited to be getting on the train but a little nervous to tell your friend group.

“Y/n!” Pansy yelled as she engulfed you in a hug. It was very obvious to tell she had a new perfume and she’d changed her makeup look.

“Hey, Pans. I’ve missed you so much.” You told her with a smile as she released you.

She nodded. “I’ve missed you too. Are you ready to board?” She asked looking to your bags.

“Yeah, we’ve got to get the right seats for when the boys get here.” You told her, walking over to the train.

You took your seats on the 3rd carriage, where you’ve sat for the last couple of years and waiting for Draco. And the rest of your friends.

Daphne came in first, hugging both you and Pansy before dropping her stuff and starting to tell you all about her holiday.

“And then I went shopping in these muggle shops and got this,” Daphne said, already pulling dresses out of her trunk to show you. At the moment she was holding up a plaid dress with a collared neck. It was labelled with Burberry and very cute. “Muggle money is so weird.” She continued, shoving the dress back in her trunk.

“I’m going to borrow that dress, Daph.” You told her, laughing at her usual messy antics.

Pansy nodded in agreement with you. “Me too.”

Daphne scowled at both of you quickly. “Don’t either of you dare keep it or rip it.” She mentioned.

“I would like to say I’ve never ripped or stolen something of yours, Daph.” You tell her, mock hurt written all over your face.

She just frowned at you before her frown turned into a smirk. “Yeah but maybe something will happen now with Draco, you know the boy you’ve been in love with for almost a year.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing and giggling a little at the news they didn’t know. “Uh well, Draco and I are actually dating.” You tell them. Immediately both of their faces dropped with surprise before they started doing their high pitched screams.

“Are you serious?” Daphne asked, to which you nodded. By now they were both jumping around, screaming.

“Just don’t tell him you know yet.” You told them, trying to shush them.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open and in walked Draco and Blaise, both carrying their bags in hand.

“What is all this noise for?” Draco asked, dropping his bag and putting his hands to his ear as soon as he walked in as he shifted his eyes to meet yours. You just shrug your shoulders at him and smile at him shyly.

Both the girls quietened down, taking a seat on the opposite side of the compartment, Pansy next to the window like you and Daphne next to her. Blaise rolled his eyes at them and sat next to Daphne, leaving Draco to sit next to you.

Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you and Draco, unfairly not Daphne and Blaise who were also sitting close.

“So, Y/n, how was your summer?” Blaise asked, causing Daphne and Pansy to start giggling. Blaise’s eyes shifted to them but Draco’s to you.

You nodded. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” Draco asked quietly, causing you to glare at him to shut up. You’d already let it slip to the girls, the last thing you wanted was for Blaise to find out as well.

Suddenly the door slid open again and Theo walked in. “What’s up?” He asked as he strolled in, bags in hand before taking a seat next to Draco.

Everyone’s attention was now of you and Draco, thankfully as an array of ‘not much’ rang through the compartment. As nice as it was being just with Draco, all of your friends in the same room again was a great feeling.

“And look at you two being cute together,” Theo said, ruffling Draco’s hair. His action made Draco pull his head away from Theo, ending up on your shoulder.

Draco let his head rest there for a second before punching Theo in the arm. Theo didn’t retaliate, instead, he slid as far as he could towards the compartment door.

Everyone continued to talk, happy to all be together again and catch up. While everyone else continued chatting about what this year would hold, Draco turned to you and pulled something out of his bag.

“I’ve got this for you.” He told you, handing you a chocolate frog. A soft smile fell across your face.

You reached out and held his hand for a second. “You’re too sweet.” You told him as you took it out of his hand.

“And you’re too pretty.” He smiled back, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. Just for a second, it felt like it was only you and Draco in the room, in the world even.

Until Pansy noticed. “Awww.” She cooed, turning everyone's attention to you and Draco, who was closer to you than any of them had ever seen him. You jerked your head away from him and turned to look at her.

Both you and Draco glared at her while everyone else ‘ooo’ed and ‘awwed.

“Shut up.” You scowl at them, a blush rising into your cheeks.

“Why don’t the two of you just tell us what’s going on?” Blaise asked causing Draco to kick his foot.

“Yeah, Y/n, tell us.” Daphne teased, winking at you. All you could do was scowl at her.

Next to you Draco also looked like he was going to snap. “Alright shut up.” Now everyone was looking at him and you were a little worried as he grabbed your hand. “Y/n and I are dating and now that I’ve told you you can all be quiet.”

Everyone, including you, looked at him with your mouths wide open in shock at what he had said.

“Y/n told us,” Daphne stated, before putting her hands over her mouth. Draco’s eyes shifted to you and his mouth dropped open.

“Draco told me,” Blaise said and you mimicked Draco’s expression to you.

Finally, you found something to say to him. “Well it doesn’t matter now, does it?” To which he nodded.

“Least now we can do this.” He added, picking your hand up off the seat to hold it.

Draco remembered feeling utterly fearless that day, knowing that you were with him just made him feel invincible that day. And he still hadn’t forgotten that feeling all these days after.

He picked up some diamond earnings, twirling them in his fingers before remembering how they looked in your ear that night.

11th December, 4th year

The earrings.

Dear Diary,

Preparations for the yule ball are finally underway. McGonagall announced it on Thursday after class. We’re not meant to be thinking about it until classes have finished but Pansy has already shown me the dress catalogues and told me which ones are nicest. The most important thing that happened was Draco being the world best boyfriend and asking me to the ball. Somehow he’s found me the perfect earrings that I am so excited to wear.

“Do you want to come on a walk with me?” Draco asked from the doorway of your room, drawing you're attention up from the floor of your dorm when Pansy had laid out hundreds of magazine cutouts of dresses. “What is going on in here?” He changed his tone, frowning at the mess.

Pansy just rolled her eyes at you leaving her. “Planning for the yule ball, Mr Malfoy.” She told him with a huff at his attitude.

“Don’t call me that, Parkinson.” He grumbled at her before turning his attention back to you, as you grabbed your coat and slipped some boots on. “Are you ready, Y/n?”

You nodded, gently stepping around the pictures and over to Draco. He grabbed your hand in his. “I’ll be back to help you clean up, Pans.” You told her and she nodded.

“Bye, Mrs Malfoy.” Pansy grinned as you shut the door, knowing it annoyed you.

His hand was cold and, as usual, not at all clammy. He stroked his thumb over your forefinger knuckle.

You walked together around the outside of the castle, talking about your classwork until Draco stopped you on the steps to the boathouse. It was a place you often went to together because it was almost always quiet, especially when students were at Hogsmeade.

You sat on a step next to each other. “So, I had something to ask you,” Draco said, trailing off.

“Yeah?” You ask, unsure what he was going to say.

“Obviously the yule ball is coming up and I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go with me.” He looked nervous as he twisted the rings on his fingers. His question wasn’t what you were expecting but it was sweet.

His eyes were stuck on yours as you nodded. “Yeah, yes, of course.” You blurted out before smiling at him. Draco moved his hands, confidently, to your cheekbones before planting his lips on your, just where they felt like they belonged.

The kiss made his heart race as he hoped you couldn’t feel his clammy hands.

Draco remembered his nerves around you that day, from when he saw you at breakfast and he knew what he was going to have to ask. They still hadn’t gone completely away, every time you were around him they seemed to be more.

He flipped a few pages before finding an entry about the most confusing

February 14th, 4th year

The confetti

Dear Diary,

I woke up this morning beyond nervous about today. A few weeks ago we got permission to go to Hogsmeade for Valentines Day and Draco asked me to go with him straight away. He got us a table at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and we had tea and cake. It was nice to sit with him but the end of our day headed in a different direction. I’ll talk about it tomorrow but for now, I’m going to sneak out to Draco’s room.

Surprisingly, the sun streamed through your window on the cold February day. As soon as you came to you were hit with the memory that today wasn’t just any Sunday to sit around by the common room fire, today was Valentines Day.

Pansy was very quickly sitting on your bed once she knew you were awake. “So, should I wear this one?” She motioned to a dress in her right hand. It was black and lacy and for once it was a dress she owned. “Or this one.” She held the dress in her left hand further to your face. That dress was a tight, pink, floral dress that you only knew so well because it belonged in your closet.

“Not this one.” You tell her, snatching the dress from her hand. “I’ve been wanting to wear this for weeks for my date.”

Your date, Draco. The most amazing, attentive boyfriend since the start of school. Since the yule ball, your relationship had gotten so much stronger and you were as close as ever. It was the only thing that made you calm despite Pansy’s craziness.

She huffed and sat down on the foot of your bed. “Fine, I’ll wear the black one.”

“The one out of your own closet?” You laugh at her.

She sulked off to get changed and you finally got up out of bed. Daphne was also dressed for her date today with Blaise. They had been going out for a few weeks longer than you and Draco. Pansy still hadn’t officially started dating Blaise, despite their constant flirting and numerous dates. You half suspected they were going to finally start dating today but knowing both of them, it wasn’t likely.

While you were putting on some makeup and doing your hair Daphne was sitting on the edge of your bed, talking about Blaise.

“Are you ready to go?” Pansy asked, walking back into the room.

“Yup.” You confirm, getting up and walking out of the room with Daphne following. Somehow you didn’t see Draco, Blaise or Theo as you left the common room to the courtyard to get your name checked off on McGonagall’s list.

Pansy was first to go, Theo jogging over to her like a desperate puppy once you were near the courtyard. Daphne and you got your names ticked off the list before waiting for Draco and Blaise. Draco turned up first with Blaise jogging behind him.

Daphne frowned at Blaise. “What are you up to?” She asked.

“Forgot my jacket.” He shrugged it on his shoulder. Draco offered his hand to you and you took it, waving goodbye to Daphne and Blaise before walking off with Draco.

The air was still quite cold and you walked down the hill towards the small village, occasionally seeing other students.

“So, where are we going?” You ask Draco. All he’d told you was to prepare to do something fun.

Draco smirked at you, stroking your knuckle. “Madam Puddifoot’s.” He told you. You nodded although you were a little confused. “They have this Valentine's thing.” He told you.

“Wow, look at you being all romantic.” You tease.

He rolled his eyes at you as you continued walking.

Once you got to Madam Puddifoot’s you sat at your table. The tea shop was beautiful on the inside, the tables were covered with food and tea ready for guests. The windows and walls were decorated with pink and red decorations. It was the perfect place to be celebrating Valentine's day. There were lots of other couples in the room as well.

“Draco, this is perfect.” You told him as you sat across from him. “Thank you.”

He smiled that cute smile that he kept for when he was just around you. “I just wanted to do something sweet for you.”

You and Draco spent a good part of an hour eating, drinking tea and chatting. It felt like there was no one else in the room.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked, looking at you with that love-sick look. You nodded, prompting him to continue. He looked worried like he wasn’t going to be able to get out what he wanted to say. “I love you.”

Your mouth opened at what he said. “I love you too.” It was almost too natural for it to not come out that quickly but you immediately understood why he just blurted it out.

And again there was that smile on his face.

Draco thought back to how nervous he was to tell you that. More nervous than he might have ever been. And the relief he felt when you said it back, knowing his feelings were reciprocated.

He went hunting for the next entry and picked up a necklace.

July 19th, summer before 5th year

The Necklace

Dear Diary,

Narcissa gave me a necklace today before the Malfoy summer gala. Draco and I had been setting up the ballroom and when he left to change into his suit (which he looked very attractive in) she gave it to me. It’s an emerald stone with a golden snake wrapped around the top half that leads to the golden chain, probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She told me how it’s been in the Black family for generations and she wanted me to have it because she thinks, hopefully correctly, that Draco and I will marry. Looks like I’m stuck with him for life. I think she’s also worried about Draco but I know he’s going to be okay.

Draco chuckled at the joke before he picked up the necklace from the box which was the one mentioned in the diary. He’d seen it before, around your neck that night.

He still felt a little bad for reading the diary but if it was about him then why not?

You and Draco had spent the day in the ballroom setting it up for the Malfoy’s summer gala. It wasn’t how you usually spent summer days with Draco at the Manor but to help Narcissa from stressing out too much you offered your time to help them.

Narcissa had invited you to stay the whole summer and there weren’t really any rules at the Malfoy’s, you got to hang out with Draco so there wasn’t any place you’d rather be.

“That’s looking lovely, dear,” Narcissa told you from the doorway, looking over at the decorations you had hung by hand. The no-magic rule was stupid. “Also, no one is going to mind if you use magic, might save you a bit of time.” She said with a smile as she walked into the room.

Now that you were looking at her you could see the of-the-shoulder, straight black ball gown she was wearing with her hair in a curled up-do.

Draco chuckled from the table of drinks he had spent his time setting up. “I told her you wouldn’t mind.” He pointed out to Narcissa before you poke your tongue out at him, only continuing his laughter.

“And what about you, Dray, what are you doing?” Narcissa asked, turning her attention to her son with a smile on her face from your playful relationship. You watched as he quickly straightened himself up and presented the table.

He looked pretty impressed with himself. “Didn’t I do well?”

“I don’t know, I think you’re still missing a few things,” Narcissa pointed out, picking up the parchment with ink she had used a quill to write an hour ago.

“It’s not my fault.” He said, flinging his hands into the air. “It’s those stupid house-elves.”

She looked over at him with a pointed look. “Be nice now, I’ll sort it out.” She told him as she walked over and picked up the piece of parchment before calling one of the many house-elves the Malfoy’s had and explained what else she needed.

After the house-elf had scurried off Narcissa was back in the room. “Draco, you go and get dressed.” She instructed him and he nodded. “Your suit is on your bed.” She continued before he nodded once more and walked out of the room.

You were now left with just Narcissa and awkwardly, you reached for a decoration to straighten it. “Did you pick out a dress?” She asked, running her fingers over the mantel. She had left you with 6 different options of dresses she’d recently brought for you.

“Yeah, I went for the dark green one.” You informed her, thinking about the beautiful dark green dress with a lace top. It flared out at the waist into a full ballgown skirt with sparkly sequins that made it shimmer.

Narcissa smiled at that. “I think he’s going to adore you in that.” She commented. “I don’t know if he could anymore though.” Comments like that were something you always appreciated.

“I hope so.” You said, but you knew Draco would love you in anything. “I should probably go and get ready.” You tell her, noticing the time on the clock.

Just as you were about to leave the room she stopped you. “Actually, there was something I wanted to give you.” That made you turn around quickly and face her again. She reached into the bag she had by her side and pulled out what looked like a necklace.

She held it up for you to see and you saw the detailed golden snake wrapped around an emerald gemstone. She could see you admiring it. “It’s an heirloom, it goes back to my 4 times great grandmother.” She explained. “It was always the choice of whoever owned it prior to present it to someone they wanted as part of the family.” That meant more to you than anything, all that time you had spent worrying about Narcissa approval and now you definitely had it.

“It’s stunning.” You mutter out, your eyes still tracing the necklace.

“I want you to have it.” She said, putting it in your hand. “I see what you have with Draco and there is no way that boy’s ever going to let you go. Just please, make sure he’s alright this year at school. I’m worried for him and I know it’s going to get harder.” She sounded desperate and you nodded, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

You take her cold, pale hand in yours to comfort her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” You assure her.

“Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot.” She said, holding her hands in yours. “Now I want to see that dress on your before Draco, I know it’s going to be perfect.” She told you and you nod before leaving the room to get changed.

You took the stairs up to Draco’s bedroom, past the antique paintings and down the hall until you walk into his bedroom while he was tying his tie in the mirror.

“Hey, you.” He smiled, looking over at you. In his full black suit, he looked irresistible, hair styled on top of his head so neatly.

“Hi.” You reply, walk close to him and place a kiss on his lips, stronger and with more passion than usual. You reached up and wrapped your hands around his neck, using your fingers to play with the hair on the back of his head.

He placed his hand on your waist, tie long forgotten as the kiss deepened and he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You continued to make out until you needed to pull away to breath.

Draco looked down at you, confused. “What’s gotten into you?” He questioned, his voice was low and rough and it made your breathing go all out of sync. You felt dizzy with his face so close to yours, his cologne was intoxicating.

“It’s the suit.” You tell him, unlacing your hands and reaching for his tie while he chuckled. He smirked at you as you looked into his dilated pupils, then you pulled your eyes away and started tying his tie, sure that he was watching you.

Once you’ve finished you look back up to see his eyes glancing down your top instead of on your face. “Draco Malfoy, you are trouble.” You say slowly once he’s looked back up to your eyes, still smirking at you.

“Hmm, it’s the top.” He mocks your previous words, moving his hand to the bottom of your shirt and tugging up and over your head.

As he dropped it on the floor beside you you raise your eyebrows at him. “You know we’re not about to have sex just before your annual family gala?”

“Unfortunately.” He sighed before offering. “After?”

“If we’re not both way too tired.” You agreed. “But now I do have to put my dress on so you need to leave.”

He scoffed lightly. “I have seen you naked before, you know?” He said before he walked off to sit on his bed.

“I know but your mother wants to see me in the dress first.” You tell him, going to his closet to look at the right dress.

You didn’t want him to know what dress you were wearing so you just looked at all 6 of them sitting in the closet.

“Can’t I just have a peek?” He asked, looked at you with wide eyes as he slipped his black shoes on.

“No, I promised.” You tell him, sticking to what you told Narcissa. “Now, go.”

He stood up and you watched as he walked closer to you instead of out his door. As he got closer he put his hands on your waist before leaning down into your neck, gently placing kisses around the base of your neck.

You both knew that that was a way to get you hot and flustered. He continued to kiss your neck before starting to suck little marks into your neck.

“Don’t even start that.” You tell him, attempting to step away from him but his grip on your waist was too strong. “I need to get changed so can you, like, leave?”

You could feel him starting to smirk against your neck. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t so honest, then I’d be able to see the dress.”

“Oh shut it, Malfoy. Wait for me downstairs?” You offer, he pulled away from you with a huff.

“Fine.” He agreed, walking towards the door while he looked at his watch. “Why are we ready so early anyway?”

“Because we are, haven’t you been doing this for years?” You shot back with a smile. “Plus I have like an hour worth of stuff to do.”

“True.” Draco nodded. “I’m going to find something to eat until you’re finished.” He continued before leaving the room and shutting the door.

Once you were sure he wasn’t coming back you pulled out the dress and began to change before putting on some makeup and doing your hair. When it finally looked perfect and was a little uncomfortable you went in search of Narcissa.

You found her near the top of the staircase. “What do you think?” You ask once she saw you approaching.

She had a sweet smile on her face and she looked happy. “You look lovely, my dear.” She tells you as you do a little spin.

“It’s such a nice dress, I don’t feel as though I’ve thanked you enough.” You appreciated everything Narcissa had done for you, even when things weren’t easy for her.

“Don’t be silly.” She told you kindly. “Now, can I put that necklace on for you?” She asked, taking it out of your hand. You spun around and pulled your hair up so Narcissa could put the necklace on.

It felt cold against your skin but you couldn’t help look down at how gorgeous it was. Once you spun around again you could tell she thought the same. “Now, go downstairs and see him. He’s been waiting for you.” She instructed and you nod before taking a hold of the rail on the spiral staircase and slowly walking down.

It felt like you were just out of a movie as you made it to the bottom of the staircase and looked over at your very attractive, blond-haired boyfriend.

As he saw you his mouth opened a little and he spun around to fully watch you take the few steps over to him.

“You look...” Draco started, still looking stunned. “Gorgeous.” He finally decided after a few seconds. You did a quick spin for him while his eyes were still so focused on you.

“Ready to go?” You ask him, nodding towards the Ballroom door where music was coming out of.

“There’s no one in there, you know? They’re just testing the music.” He tells you, smiling a little bit.

You just shrug. “Well, we can have the first dance then.”

Draco just laughed at how cute you were and took you dancing.

Even though that time had been hard for Draco, as now was, he was eternally grateful for those memories he had when things were just perfect and he could stop thinking about the difficult tasks he sensed.

He continued to read the diary, trying to get feel some more good memories. They felt warm to him, like summertime.

“Draco, what are you reading?” You asked, walking through the door and seeing him sitting there with his book in your hand.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x oc #draco fuckingmalfoy #dracotok #Harry Potter #HarryPotter #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine

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j-ungkooky · 3 years

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Temptation (Taehyung)

Ceo Au! Suggestive smut (he’s crouched under ur desk and :)) (smut will be in future chapters) Angst (later) 3181 Words Chapter 1.

“Good morning.” Taehyung simply greeted before disappearing into his office.

It was enough to get all the women in the lobby immediately shooting each other knowing glances because not only was Taehyung the company’s CEO, but he was a very handsome one at that too. His polite demeanour and respectful nature only contributed to his desirability. Due to everyone’s unanimous acknowledgement of Taehyung’s appeal, there seemed to always be some sort of competition for his attention. Whether it was to drop something off for him in his office or offer him leftover donuts, his deep voice thanking you followed by his infectious smile was all worth it. Taehyung being new to the company only made the competition over him more fierce. He had taken over the position from a now old and retired gentleman and because he had no idea what the personality of each individual in the office was truly like, it was all fair game.

She definitely would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of crush on Taehyung but it was all physical and surface level. He was her boss after all and she only saw him for a few minutes each day. They’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of words to each other in the month of his takeover.

“Jesus...did you see his arms? They’re suffocating in that button up.” Jisoo, her colleague commented.

“You’re drooling,” she teased, “besides, you should be worrying about your meeting today and not about whether or not blood is circulating through his arms.”

Jisoo scoffed and pushed herself off of the reception desk.

“Don’t remind me,” Jisoo groaned, “it doesn’t help that Taehyung’s going to be sitting in for that meeting too. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through anything without puking.”

The two of them continued to talk and catch each other up on what they did over the weekend before Jisoo eventually had to go back to her desk. She watched as her colleague walked away and felt a twinge of jealousy within herself. For someone like Jisoo to get nervous despite being pretty, charismatic and the office favourite was a slap to her self esteem. Jisoo also held a high position within the HR department while she was just a measly receptionist. She definitely wasn’t going to stay in this position forever but the job paid well and would suffice for now.

As the clock inched closer to everyone’s starting time, the lobby began clearing up as people went to their respected department. After a few minutes, she was left alone to man the front all by herself. She stared at the closed office doors surrounding her and felt another pang of envy in her heart knowing that people behind those doors were doing far more important work than her. Her days consisted of sorting through mail, sending emails, transferring calls and light house duties. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t all bad because at least she could surf the internet whenever she wanted without anyone monitoring her. Her eyes traveled towards Taehyung’s door and she wondered how he was adjusting to everything before an email notification needed her attention.

With it being Monday and the meeting Jisoo was talking about earlier being held today, it was quite busy. She usually had an hour of free time before her lunch break but the emails had been nonstop. People kept revising their forms and asking her to print out multiple copies of the revised papers to the point where the printer just stopped working altogether for a scary moment. With it being so busy, she decided to stay at her desk for lunch today. She was buried so deep in her computer work that Taehyung’s presence had gone unnoticed. He needed a break from staring at his screen all day and decided to go explore the office. In the month that Taehyung transferred over, he had no time to go around introducing himself or making himself familiar with the space. His decision to finally become accustomed to his environment brought him in front of her desk. The unusually loud crinkling from the untouched candy jar she left out for everyone broke her focus. She looked up to see her boss struggling with how small the jar was.

“Do...do you need help?” she finally asked.

Up close, Taehyung’s visuals had her feeling shy and flustered like a high school girl sitting next to their crush. Taehyung seemed just as surprised to hear her voice as his movements came to a halt and he pulled his hand out of the candy jar sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he apologized while rubbing the back of his neck, “I realized I must’ve looked really stupid.”

She waved his doubts away and took the jar from him. She tried her very best to seem unfazed and collected but the red tint in her cheeks and her inability to stop smiling so wide probably gave her away.

“The um...” Taehyung cleared his throat before continuing, “the watermelon flavour please.”

After a few seconds of sifting through the numerous options, she found the one he wanted. Taehyung opened his hand and she almost laughed at how tiny the candy looked in his gigantic palm. Her amusement didn’t stop at his physicality but shifted towards his entire personality. When she first met Taehyung, she was beyond intimidated. She couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling like he was looking right through her. Taehyung carried himself with an air of confidence and always had an answer for everyone, as expected of a competent CEO. She wasn’t nervous around him because he was scary but because his presence was so large and full while she was so small compared to him. But having him stand before her enjoying a piece of watermelon flavoured candy with an innocent smile on his face was just so...unexpected.

“Is this your lunch break?” Taehyung asked noticing her untouched sandwich sitting beside her keyboard.

She looked where he was and let out a forced laugh at her pathetic set up.

“Yeah I didn’t have time to properly take a break today.” she explained.

The reason she was eating at her desk suddenly occurred to her and her eyes traveled over to her inbox which was now at double digits. With only an hour before the big meeting today, she was already behind despite only talking to Taehyung for five minutes.

“Sorry Taehyung I have to get back to work,” she sighed running a hand through her hair, “is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked looking at him for a quick second before going back to her monitor.

Taehyung watched as she worked and wondered if this was the kind of work culture he wanted to uphold. He didn’t like that she didn’t take a break and was going unnoticed for her extra work. Perhaps he’d talk to HR and accounting later to avoid situations like this from happening again. Taehyung drummed his fingers against his her desk and sucked his teeth.

“Nope, nothing else you can do for me!” he smiled, “Thank you for your hard work but please make sure to take a proper break next time. I’m going to the coffee room to take a breather myself.”

She looked up to thank him out of courtesy and he surprised her by thanking her once more and using her name. He grabbed a few more pieces of candy before going on his way.

“Hey Taehyung!” she called, leaning over her desk.

He turned his head with a raised brow.

“If you’re still going to the break room, it’s the other way.” she informed him.

Taehyung turned around on his heel and began walking hastily in the correct direction with bashful smile on his face.

“What an interesting guy.” she thought while laughing to herself.

________________________________________________

The hour leading up to the big meeting didn’t get any easier as her inbox continued to flood with people requesting numerous things from her. She was finally able to breathe when the meeting started and people stopped demanding her assistance. Jisoo had come up earlier asking for words of encouragement before Taehyung emerged from his office. She watched in awe at how effortless Jisoo made it look cracking jokes with Taehyung and drawing out deep belly laughs from him. She cringed at how awkward she must’ve been with Taehyung earlier and refused to look at him when he walked by; not that he would’ve noticed anyway as Jisoo had his full attention. She made an early new years resolution to be more like her follow coworker in the coming year.

Despite the craziness earlier, she was already bored browsing through the same pages for the past 40 minutes. The meeting seemed to be going well as no one left the boardroom to ask her to do anything. With her sanity hanging onto Pinterest boards, she welcomed the delivery man with a gigantic smile and lively greeting.

“Big one today.” the delivery man commented while slapping the stacks of boxes on his trolley.

She took a look around her desk to see if there was any available space to put the packages but to no avail.

“You can just leave them there.” she said and began rolling up her sleeves.

“You sure?” the man asked, “these are quite heavy.”

She reassured him by telling him that she deals with deliveries every Monday and that this was no different to prior ones. She bid the delivery man farewell as he disappeared through the elevator doors with the same concerned face that never left during their entire interaction.

"Finally something to do.” she thought and with that, began working on the boxes.

Taehyung struggled to keep his eyes open during the meeting. He opted to rest his chin on his hand and pretend to take notes when in reality, his eyes were closed and he was drawing random shapes in his notepad. From the moment he received emails outlining what the meeting entailed, he knew it meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn’t actually know why he agreed to be a part of it but he was definitely regretting his decision to do so. Taehyung had a long list of tasks to fulfill especially since he was only a month onboard this company and this meeting was wasting his time. Wanting to make a good impression on his employees, Taehyung tried really hard to pay attention but he simply could not trick himself into caring as the minutes ticked by. He racked his brain on ways to escape and took a deep breath before pursuing his liberation. Taehyung looked at his apple watch and feigned surprise at a non-existent message on it.

“Everyone, I apologize for leaving so suddenly but there is an issue I have to attend.” he announced while getting up from his seat.

He uttered a few more apologies before leaving the boardroom and closing the door. It wasn’t until he was out in the hallway by himself that he suddenly felt incredibly foolish over how easy it was to leave. He sat in that godforsaken room for almost an hour thinking of ways to flee and that was all it took. Pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling a sharp breath, Taehyung made his way back to his office.

“Holy shit! What is in here?!” she groaned struggling to lift more boxes from within the delivery boxes.

In the span of an hour, she was still working on one of the four boxes delivered. Perhaps she should’ve listened to the delivery man earlier but her pride got in the way. It didn’t help that the skirt she was wearing today was a lot shorter than her usual choices but all her work clothes were currently in the wash as she simply could not be bothered to do laundry over the weekend. Every time she lifted something up, she had to immediately place the item somewhere so she could pull her skirt down or she’d accidentally flash the office.

She attempted to set one box down on her desk and winced when it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. She waited a few seconds to see if anyone came out to figure out what the noise was and breathed a sigh of relief when the office remained undisturbed.

“Better than aimlessly scrolling through Instagram.” she thought before bending over to pick up anything that fell out.

“Do you need help?” a familiar voice called out.

She jumped in her shoes and proceeded to drop everything from her arms. She snapped her body up to see who it was and surprising her again for the second time today, Taehyung was standing in front of her desk with a curious look on his face.

“I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he apologized profusely as he made his way behind her desk, “please let me help you!”

It took her a beat to register her appearance and she quickly pulled down her skirt that was riding up way too close to her crotch. She smoothed her hair before attempting to stop Taehyung from doing anything.

“No, no don’t worry!” she laughed as he held up the items out of her reach.

“If you want it then you have to grow a whole foot taller.” he teased.

“You have a meeting to go back to.” she reminded him to which he scrunched his face in disapproval.

Just as she was slowly convincing Taehyung to go back, his face turned from playfulness to dread when the boardroom door opened.

“Let me ask Taehyung to join the meeting again.” a colleague’s voice could be heard before their footsteps approached the lobby.

She was about to tell Taehyung that he was needed when he ducked under her already cramped desk and put a finger to his lips as his eyes pleaded for her to keep quiet. Before she could process what was happening, Jin, her coworker appeared.

“Hey! Is Taehyung around?” Jin asked as he marvelled at all the boxes spread out in the lobby.

She stood still trying to calm her nerves. On one hand, she was fighting against the biggest laughing fit of her life and on the other, Taehyung her boss, expected her to cover for him as he cowered under her desk.

“He is...” she glanced down at Taehyung who was now shaking his head and making a cutting motion with his hand, “I-I haven’t seen him actually! Is he not in the meeting?”

Jin cocked a brow and leaned over her desk trying to see what she was looking at.

“Is everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” he laughed.

She forced a smile and shook her head, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My computer’s been acting up all day and it’s getting a little worrisome with everything going on.”

Taehyung was impressed by how quick she was on her feet and slowly breathed a sigh of relief until he heard Jin offer to come around and take a look at her computer for her. This whole situation was already absolutely ridiculous and humiliating until she sat down on her chair to click a few keys and feign relief that her computer was magically working again. The issue was no longer the fact that Taehyung was hiding from his employees but that he was contorted under her desk that was way too small for his large frame, now with her cunt inches away from his face.

“Well now that you’re here anyways, I was hoping you could help me with some paper work and scheduling.” Jin said.

“S-sure.” she managed to answer despite her throat drying up and the adrenaline slowly making its way through her veins.

She could feel every time Taehyung breathed because his exhales would land right against her inner thigh and when he sighed, she could feel it right against her sex. Her thong provided little to no protection against any sensation caused by him. She tried to clamp her thighs together but her knees would hit Taehyung’s face in the process causing her to open her legs again as a reflex and there was no more room for Taehyung to back up against.

“Are you okay?” Jin asked.

She could only nod as a response; she did not trust her voice to come out stable and natural. The battle she was fighting up there was mutually shared by Taehyung underneath. His brain was going a million miles a minute as he tried to figure out how to talk to her after this. How was he going to make this all alright and normal? He could offer her a raise and an extra week of paid vacation? Maybe he could fire her but he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he did that. Taehyung was beating himself up for putting her in a situation like this and began to mentally prep for a lawsuit. While trying to figure out a solution, Taehyung forgot that he was just a man with a simple brain and another mental battle was underway as he tried very hard to avoid gazing somewhere he really shouldn’t. As she kept squirming, her skirt kept rising and Taehyung couldn’t help but steal a glance at the growing wetness appearing on her undergarment. The growing arousal within Taehyung’s pants made him feel more cramped and with his legs were beginning to fall asleep, he began to pray to any god out there for some sort of divine intervention.

“Fuck fuck fuck...oh my fucking god,” he chanted in his head, “Jin shut the fuck up already.”

A gasp escaping from her lips followed by her suddenly jolting startled Jin and he gave her an odd look. Taehyung had completely lost feeling in both of his feet and he fell over grabbing onto her thighs for support. His hands felt so warm against her skin and their sheer size grabbed a lot more area than anticipated. Taehyung fought back a groan when the bottom of her skirt had flipped over and her entire lower region was in full view.

“Hey Jin, is it okay if we do this over email? I’m suddenly not feeling so well.” she was able to muster out.

It didn’t take a doctor to know something was wrong from her complexion turning completely pale.

“Yeah I think you should go home for the rest of the day. You really don’t look well,” Jin acknowledged with furrowed brows, “I’ll just catch Taehyung up with the meeting myself.”

The minute she heard the boardroom doors close, she pushed her chair back so forcefully that it crashed into the wall behind her. She got up and immediately pulled her skirt down and made a beeline towards the washroom without saying a single word to Taehyung. Taehyung on the other hand stayed fixed under her desk with his eyes bulged and his mouth ajar. There was absolutely no positive outcome for what he had caused.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts #bangtan #bts ceo

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