#ANYWAYS VERSION 2 WILL BE OUT NEXT WEEK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemondsbabe · 6 months

Text

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.”

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page.

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces.

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more.

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another.

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering.

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board.

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips.

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging.

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned.

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again.

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead.

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat.

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks.

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them.

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?”

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade.

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner.

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.”

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men.

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers.

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses.

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.”

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter.

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware.

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.”

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him.

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering.

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck.

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain.

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves.

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck.

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder.

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt.

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.”

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister.

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase.

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail.

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place.

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush.

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice.

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.”

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute.

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?”

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act.

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?”

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth.

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem.

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook.

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?”

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?”

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low.

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket.

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.”

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request.

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you.

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.”

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?”

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

“Do you?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables.

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes.

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone.

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together.

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles.

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?”

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing.

“You.” It comes out as a breath.

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark.

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.”

“None?”

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.”

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair.

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his.

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.”

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger.

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands.

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling.

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine.

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.”

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading.

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump.

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly.

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk.

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.”

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric.

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip.

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath.

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat.

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you.

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand.

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need.��

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit.

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?”

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl.

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table.

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally.

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses.

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric,

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child.

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you.

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud.

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit.

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open.

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment.

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?”

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance.

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length.

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.”

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down.

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.”

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock.

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?”

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock.

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately.

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release.

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair.

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin.

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things.

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.”

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down.

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat.

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air.

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

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rboooks · 11 months

Text

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

#dcxdp crossover #dc x dp crossover #Child Support #Part 2 #John is trying his best #He's fighting off suitors from his son #Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends #He's the oldest in Damian's new team #I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it

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hannieehaee · 5 months

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Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a scenario(or reaction) where maybe you had a day planned with a member but they canceled to hangout with the guys, not realizing it was your birthday. I love your writing and angst so this would be perfect 4 me 🤭 thank you!! (Also for the member, maybe hhu 👉👈)

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - hhu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, mingyu's is a teeny tiny bit suggestive (they're mentioned to shower together, but nothing sexual occurs), etc.

part 2

wc: 2903

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this T-T i liked the prompt so i wanted to write something a lil longer hehe anyways tysm for reading and for requesting <3 pls lmk if anyone wants a vocal/perf unit version!

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol always had a tendency of being a tiny bit extra when it came to his birthday. he expected all friends and family to be punctual on that day with a gift and some heartfelt congratulations. if you didn't wish him happy birthday at 12am on the dot, you were just not that good of a friend to him and he'd remember that moment with disdain.

in the same way that he was extra on his own birthday, he liked to do the same for his closest loved ones. he was always ready at 12 o'clock with some words of love and appreciation ready. he'd have had the gift ready months in advance. even on other people's special day, he wanted to stand out a little; show how good of a friend he was. there were no questions to he made about your birthday. you, his favorite person in the world. if he was ever going to make a day special, it was that one. he would count down the days until its arrival. it was always such a sweet gesture from him, you thought. which was why it was very weird of him to not be present right now. or all day, for that matter.

it was your birthday. you had planned this day with seungcheol a few weeks in advance. all you wanted was a calm day with your boyfriend, even cancelling plans on friends and family who had also wanted to keep you company on your special day. you were originally just going to eat a nice dinner with your boyfriend on whichever day of the week you had off that week, not minding whether it actually fell on your birthday or not. but your boyfriend had insisted on celebrating on the exact date, even telling you to call off work, claiming he would do the same once the day came. except those plans seemed to fall through.

you'd gone to sleep a bit early, deciding not to wait on your boyfriend to arrive from dance practice and just sleep in preparation for whatever cheol had planned for tomorrow. you assumed he would wake you up upon his arrival, which wouldve been a bit before midnight. you'd woken up confused when you had looked at the clock the next morning and noticed it was 6am, not having been awoken by him, nor spotting him in your room. he always left before you woke up, but today was supposed to be a day off for him, so it was all very odd. it continued like this for a few hours, until you gave up on waiting for his arrival and just called him. it was only 10am by now, so maybe he had left for some preparations not expecting you to wake up so early, but your phone calls went unanswered. for hours. it eventually became the afternoon. you had given up on calling him at around 2 oclock, realizing he just wasn't going to show.

by 5pm, you were beyond sad. the same man who whined and pouted at you if you dared wish him a happy birthday at 12:02am had also forgotten your birthday, clearly not even having called off of work that day (you'd checked his location some hours back, he was at the hybe building). he hadn't even bothered to check his phone all day either. you weren't usually one to get emotional, but this felt like a punch in the gut. you had gone out of your way to spend the day with your boyfriend, having been promised an amazing day, but were now just some forgotten rag, less important than his usual work day.

he arrived a little earlier than yesterday. whenever he left early in the morning, he arrived in the afternoon. it was now 6pm, and you had spent the whole day moping. you grabbed the cake you'd both left in the fridge a few days back, not caring anymore and just eating it out of sadness. that might've been cheol's first guess upon walking in, as you saw his smile fall the moment he landed his eyes on you, 'happy birthday' cake sitting across from you on the coffee table.

his eyes widened at the realization, and much more at your dejected appearance, "oh my god, babe, i'm so-"

you sighed, "you don't have to say it."

he quickly approached you, dropping his bag and coat before having hung them upon his entrance, "no! fuck, i'm so fucking sorry. i have no idea how it slipped my mind, i- i forgot to call off in advance, and it threw off my entire schedule. i swear i just forgot, i'm so fucking sorry, baby," he was rambling now, probably realizing how let down you were by his slip up.

"it doesn't matter, cheol. it's just a birthday. i'll just ... i'll just celebrate with my family next week or something. don't worry about it," you knew you didn't mean your words, but you also felt it useless to try and blame cheol.

"wait! it's only six. we can still do something! do you wanna go out? i'll take you to dinner. how does that sound?"

"i ... i don't really feel like it, cheol. i think i'll just go meet up with a friend. she called me last week asking to meet up, but i cancelled on her. i just wanted to wait for you to get back before i left. i'll see you in the morning," you knew you were being a little immature, but if he had wanted to be with you, he would've put in the effort.

"oh. you're sleeping over? but i thought ..."

"yeah. i'll just see you tomorrow when you get back from practice. yeah? bye, cheol."

you left without saying much else, feeling guilty at his look of rejection. you felt badly about leaving him on his own like this, but you knew there was no way for you to spend time with your boyfriend right now without feeling like an idiot.

wonwoo -

wonwoo had never felt like more of an asshole.

wonwoo had never been too big on birthdays, specially his own. to him it was just another day. it was only his family, friends (and carats, of course) who ever made that day special to him. if it had been up to him? he would probably even forget about the day, but he had the fortune to have a lot of people in his life who loved and cared about him enough to cherish that day as if it were a national holiday. and you were one of those people. you would always shower wonwoo with love, but you'd go a little extra hard on his birthday, catering to every need you think he may have and even going as far as creating an entire itinerary of things he enjoys to do throughout the day. you were a little ray of sunshine that would somehow make him look forward to his birthday, something very uncharacteristic of him. which was why he had never felt like a bigger asshole than right now.

today was your birthday. a day which wonwoo had looked forward to for two years now. he had wanted to celebrate your following birthday with you, maybe plan something elaborate for you for once, but he had unfortunately been on tour at the time, causing you to be separated during that day. this only made him want to put even more effort into your birthday next year, which was now. today. the day in which he had ultimately forgotten your birthday.

there was not much to it. he had a nice day planned for you. he wasn't too good with surprises, so he had let you know in advance, allowing you to prepare yourself accordingly. you both had work that day, so he had planned a candlelit dinner for you, having even learned how to cook your favorite foods just to add that extra layer of care. the original plan was to come home from work early - earlier than you - and follow the recipes he had gone over with mingyu a few times over the past few weeks. it was simple, concise and direct. there was very little room for failure. but it had still somehow managed to slip his mind. he wanted to blame mingyu for his insistence in going back to their shared apartment after practice, something about some game he wanted to show him. but he couldnt blame his clueless friend, it wasnt his responsibility to know your birthday. he'd sworn he would only stay for an hour and then promptly leave to go home to you, but one hour turned into two and then three. it was a genuine slip of his mind, but that didn't make a difference.

wonwoo was quite surprised upon picking up his phone from where he'd left it charging upon arriving to his apartment, not realizing it had stayed on do not disturb the entire time. he was welcomed by a myriad of messages from you, all of them ranging in emotion.

from jagiya 💘:

(4:25) nonu?

(4:25) are you coming home soon?

(5:07) okay, its been almost an hour now. is everything okay?

(6:35) baby?

(6:48) i tried calling you already. where are you?

(6:48) just checked ur location and ur at ur apt. did you forget?

(9:02) it's been over two hours now ...

(9:15) okay, nevermind. don't come. we can just do this another day.

(9:16) i'll be out with some friends. goodnight.

his heart dropped more and more the more he read. he immediately went to call you and spam with responses, but found no reply from you. it only served him right. he would now spend the rest of the night dreading how to make it up to you, feeling the worst guilt he'd ever felt.

mingyu -

you'd always thought of mingyu as one of the sweetest men alive. he had helped you restore your faith in humanity, seeing him as the prime example of what a man should be. he was the most selfless person you'd ever met. ever since you'd begun dating (and even before that, if we're being honest), he had always been at your beck and call, providing you with anything you could possibly need. he'd love and take care of you in ways that you hadn't imagined possible. you'd never been disappointed by mingyu. but now you realize maybe you had flown too close to the sun. mingyu was just human after all. you shouldn't have felt as disappointed as you did. but you couldn't help your emotions, nor did you want to blame yourself over this.

the issue at hand was, today was your birthday. today, at least basing it on prior years, was always filled with the utmost love and affection a person could ever experience. all courtesy of one kim mingyu. he would wake you up with breakfast, rush you into the shower and hold you close to him as he washed your hair and whispered words of affirmation in your ear. he would proceed to take you somewhere pretty and have a full on photoshoot as he hyped you up from behind the camera. he would plan some special outing for the evening and end the day with a moonlit dinner from the beautiful view from his apartment's balcony. it was always such a dream. but this birthday in particular had been the outlier.

he unfortunately had a comeback on the same week of your birthday, causing his schedule to be more hectic than usual. he had a few things scheduled for your birthday itself, but knowing mingyu you knew he would at least come home to you that night and shower you with as much love as his exhausted self could. but that never came. you waited and waited, knowing mingyu's day had ended hours ago. at some point you simply gave up and called him, wondering where he was, if maybe something was wrong. however, his response was one that left you feeling dejected, something mingyu had never made you feel.

"gyu? where are you?", you'd said as soon as he picked up.

"hm? hi, baby. i'm at the shared apartment. wonwoo hyung wanted to leave early today. what's up, baby?"

not even a quick 'happy birthday'? did he really not remember? you felt kind of embarrassed at having gotten your hopes up for yet another year of special treatment from your boyfriend.

"uhh, nothing gyu. just checking in. are you staying there tonight?"

"yeah. thought it'd be easier since it's a bit closer to the company than your place. is that okay? sorry, baby. i shouldve let you know beforehand," even when he was unknowingly hurting your feelings he managed to be a sweetheart.

"it's fine, gyu. have a goodnight. you must be tired."

"okay, pretty," he giggled boyishly at the phone, fully clueless of your feelings, "sleep tight. love you!"

"yeah, bye."

you'd never hung up on him before a quick 'i love you' before. it mightve a dumb thing to even care about, but you knew that to mingyu's romantic nature it meant everything. which is why you weren't surprised when twenty minutes later your phone began to be flooded by calls and messages from the man, at first wondering why you had hung up like that, only to then evolve into him begging for forgiveness as he explained that he had forgotten your special day, and that it had taken wonwoo's reminder that your birthday fell this week for him to realize his mistake. but this was now his problem to deal with. if he wanted forgiveness, he'd have to come and get it.

vernon -

vernon had a bit of a tendency of being forgetful. it only came hand in hand with his tendency of being a little distracted while out and about. he wasn't careless by any means, but he could sometimes be too in his own world to notice what happened around him. which would sometimes get him into hot waters with you.

he hadn't noticed your hints, he swears! he didn't hear the suggestive tones nor the subtle nudges you'd been giving him for the past month. he hadn't thought much of it when you began texting him about places you two should visit soon, nor when you'd began to talk more about certain interests you'd been having as of late. he had just assumed you were trying to make conversation, so he treated it as such.

when your birthday had actually come, vernon hadn't known it was anything other than an ordinary day. he woke up, making sure to not wake you in the process. he'd gotten up, headed to the company, and followed his regular schedule. it was a particularly busy day, so going on his phone had been mostly out of the question. the two of you weren't really in the habit of texting much throughout the day, usually choosing to just catch up with each other at night when you could lay in bed together and dissect each other's days. he spent a majority of the day fully disconnected from outside contact, focusing solely on the harsh new choreo they needed to memorize for next week's awards show. he knew you were aware it was a busy time of the year for the industry he worked in, so he felt it fine to stay a little extra time today without messaging you first. this was something that happened from time to time anyway, so it shouldn'tve been a problem, right? or at least that's what he thought until he finally plucked his phone out of his bag, where it had been hiding the entire day.

from: baby 😖:

(9:23) u left so early :((

(9:23) shouldve woken me up so i could say goodbye!

(12:58) nonnie, it's been a few hours now ... did u forget something?

(1:20) no reply still?

(1:21) did you actually forget? :(

(1:21) i've been hinting at it for a month. i thought u were being obtuse on purpose :(

(1:48) can u at least come home a little early today? im sure soonyoung wont mind

(2:35) okay, ill take that as a no :(

(4:48) hansol ...

(6:12) okay, i guess you're gonna be home later than usual today.

(7:10) it's my birthday btw, in case it didnt click by now.

(7:16) maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you

fucking hell. vernon had never felt like more of a careless asshole. he had spent the entire day away from you, completely clueless to the fact that it was the love of his life's birthday. you weren't one to ask for much, so he knew a simple happy birthday accompanied by even just his presence for a shared meal wouldve been more than enough to make you happy. but his stupid distracted self couldn't even muster enough care for that. he wasnt sure what to do now. should he go to your apartment and beg for forgiveness? or stay here, like a dog with his tail between his legs as he pondered some way to make it up to you? all he knew was that he messed up. hugely.

a/n: i hate writing unresolved angst but uhh yeah if u want a pt 2 lmk <3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen angst #svt scenarios #svt reactions #svt angst

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chemicaljacketslut · 2 years

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guys i am. trying out for a solo in choir. for creep. the cover by richard cheese. guys

#PLEEK PLEEEK I WANT IT SO BAD #was just practicing and am SLAYING the final chorus so fingers crossed #even though it’s kinda out of my range like it sounds better up the octave but is kind of hard to sing up the octave so it’s a dilemma #like it’s in my range but it’s pushing it #but in class i was like am i allowed to try out 👁️👁️#and literally like 5 people were like OMG YES YOUR VOICE WOULD BE PERFECT #and it was people im not like great friends with or anything i literally felt soo hashtag validated #this may seem funny with just this context but trust me it is SO much funnier with the added context i have #i mean it’s rly a you had to be there kind of thing but basically #for like 2 years it’s been an inside joke that the choir should sing creep like it would get brought up every week at least #to illustrate how big this joke was in the middle of our end-of-year choir banquet without explanation they dimmed the lights #and started playing a creep karaoke track #and it was just this room full of choir kids all singing creep next to their confused parents #so anyway. the fact that we’re actually doing it. and that it’s THE RICHARD CHEESE VERSION #is fucking monumental

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cesium-sheep · 2 years

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honestly very rude of her to exploit my dogged desire to discover secrets to bring me back for a moment, intentional or not (I’m joking, although it is actually working)

#she only gave me three clues which is very rude!!!#1 they were discussing it #2 it has to do with the future #3 it is something worth informing me of as a unit (presumably because it is good news)#obviously nobody's engaged or pgrenant #given that you can only legally have one spouse and I'm the only one with a uterus #oh fuck I got sidetracked looking up pregananant and it turns out there's a longer version of previously on a drama #anyway that's such an unfairly small number of clues!!!#I can't think of anything that has to do with the future that would be news!!!#I know he wants to buy out his brother's share of the house and move us all in in theory!!!#and I know she wants to get into uw's psych program so we can go home!!!#what could it beeeeeeee #I suppose it could be that he trusts us enough to move with us next time even if we don't go home?#that would be very nice but it is important to temper my expectations cuz that's awful big #and it would probably take more discussion than that #what's a smaller hypothesis that's still reasonable then?#I don't think he'd actually miss christmas with all his family and friends to come visit us #especially since time is fake anyway and it still counts just as much if it's a couple weeks before or after #that's also not really very 'future'#can't be anything to do with work cuz I just talked to him about that a week ago #at least not directly #if it had anything to do with my care he would've just talked to me directly so it's not that he found a resource or something #it could be that his brother is willing to cut him a very friendly deal on the house?#that doesn't feel likely to be correct but it does feel like a more reasonable scale of hypothesis #cuz if you guess too big you make everyone sad.#maybe the neighbors agreed to the sheep fence?#but again why would he be discussing that with her?#it's being treated like an announcement more than a question #so it's presumably something I'm already implicitly on board with #oh shit maybe they're considering a vacation together? that still doesn't feel future enough but it's good scale.

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youraverageaemondsimp · 7 months

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“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter(?)!Reader // PART TWO

Here is the long awaited part 2! Though it is shorter than the last one, ik i said I'll publish this after my exams but i got a sudden burst of motivation, also there likely won't be any further parts!

MDNI

WARNINGS: p in v sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, age gap (9ish years), lactation kink, pregnancy kink(?), tiddy sucking, fingering, fluff, slight angst, giving birth, past trauma experience, + not proof read.

WC: 3.8k

« part one // 🎄 special »

You woke up this morning tired from the activities of last night, you stirred in your sleep which woke aemond up as he unwrapped his hands around you and rubbed his eyes, “Good morning bunny.” he tells you, voice deep and hoarse and you mumble a good morning back before placing a kiss on his face.

It has been a few months since then, becoming officially a part of Aemond's family, though you and Aemond were not married yet, you both acted like a married couple anyway, he called you his wife rather than referring to you as his girlfriend.

You had moved into his house, fetching all the things you needed from your old apartment and shifting to his house, Aenys was more than happy, he constantly referred to you as mama now.

Today was Aemond's day off, which is why he was still in bed with you today, lazing around and basking in your comfort, but to be honest he literally owns everything and can take breaks whenever he wants but he doesn't do that, wanting to remain punctual.

You both get off the bed and go get ready, today you were going to a daycare centre to get Aenys to finally join and mingle with friends around his age, Aemond had rejected this idea when you suggested it, but with enough convincing from your side he agreed, he was still reluctant as hell, bring overprotective of his son.

Aemond had also offered to pay for your tuition since you said you wanted to pursue further education, but you denied it feeling as if it's too much but he insisted, and he eventually got his way in the end, he basically fucked his way to it.

Your classes would start next week, and since you and Aemond would be gone, Aenys would once again be alone in the house, and Aemond didn't want to hire another babysitter, you had also used this point to convince him to put Aenys in a daycare.

You both quickly got ready, throwing on some casuals and went to Aenys' room to wake him up, Aemond went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the three of you while you got Aenys ready for the day, and as usual, he was on his best behaviour. You placed a small kiss to his nose which made him giggle, before picking him up and going outside his room, towards the kitchen and the dining area, you had noticed how the food had already been set and aemond was bringing in the utensils before he placed them down. You put Aenys down on his chair before pecking Aemond on the lips and you three sat there and ate.

The drive to the daycare was relatively small, only a few minutes. You could tell Aemond was nervous, seeing him tap the car steer repeatedly, a habit you had noticed. Aenys was sitting in the back side as you engaged in a conversation with him.

“I'm swooo excited! I hope it's fun!!!” he yelled enthusiastically and you chuckled, “I'm sure it will be fun, Aenys.” and just like that, you have already reached the daycare centre.

It was big, of course it would be, it's the rich kids version.

You got out of the car first and opened the backdoor to fetch Aenys, and his little cute bag he wore on his back, he was jumping up and down in excitement, and Aemond reluctantly got out of his own car and sighed heavily.

You watched as a few parents came out of their cars as well, basically dropping their kids off, and soon you and Aemond went to do the same.

Aenys was hesitant to let go of your hand first, the teacher had encouraged him to come but he hid behind your leg and covered himself from view due to shyness, you bent down to his level and comforted him, giving him reassurance and to your surprise Aemond also did the same thing, telling him it will be okay, and just then did Aenys let go of your hand and went to the teacher, before she led him inside

This moment made you tear up, watching him go on his own world and then you heard a shaky breath, and looked to your side.

Aemond was trying to contain his emotions, probably scared that something might happen to him, you took your hand in his before rubbing it reassuringly, and he held yours tightly in comfort.

You both stood there for a moment before making your way back to the car.

“What if something happens to him?” Aemond speaks up suddenly, voice laced with concern and you look at him, “Nothing will happen Aemond, I'm sure he'll be fine. You can't just keep him locked away forever.” you reply.

“You're right… it's just-” he sighs heavily.

“I can understand, it must be tough.” you held his hand in yours and he looked at you, and gave you a small smile, before he got inside the car, you went around and got in.

Everything went fine that week, and life began to move, you got into your university of choice and with the major you had chosen in child psychology, classes were going well.

Luckily, you and Aenys' hours matched perfectly, You would drop him off at daycare before going to your university, and then pick him up, Aemond's however were still the same.

But for an odd reason, a few days into your classes you started feeling heavily nauseous, even throwing up sometimes. At first you thought it was due to stress but then you noticed how sensitive your breasts had become, and how your period was late.

You went to pick up Aenys, waiting outside the car while he rushed out of the building with his friends, he was smiling, his baby teeth on full display and it made your heart warm up, his eyes lit up even more when he spotted you, saying goodbye to his friend before he ran over to you and you picked him up, giving him a kiss on the head, “Mama! I want to sit in the front today!!” he said and you reluctantly agreed, not being able to say no to his puppy eyes, you carefully seated him in the front seat before securing the seatbelt and then got into the otherside to drive off.

You usually go home straight after this but you went to the pharmacy and got pregnancy tests, yes tests, multiple cause you really wanted to be sure.

After reaching home, you put Aenys to nap, not before feeding him lunch and then you finally relaxed, knowing he was fast asleep in his room, you immediately took out the pregnancy tests before going to the bathroom to run the tests.

You wait on the bathroom seat, waiting for the tests to load up, legs bouncing in nervousness as you watch the three tests take their time to process and show the results.

Your eyes darted to the first one and you felt your heart leap in your throat, and then the second, and then the third.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

You did not know how to feel, you had mixed feelings about this. You were happy but also not at the same time.

Waiting for Aemond to get home had never felt more agonising.

Time felt like it moved extremely slowly, You were left alone with your nerves, Aenys was napping for longer than usual, or at least it was what it felt like. You scrolled through your phone not knowing if you should text him. You knew he was probably busy, and announcing that you're pregnant didn't seem appropriate, but you couldn't wait until night for his presence.

‘Aemond?

Can you please come home as soon as your work allows you to?’

You text him that.

You honestly expected him to be home a few hours later and not in just half an hour.

He bursted through the front door, slamming it behind him, making you panic thinking you had an intruder but it was just him.

“What happened?” he asks you, voice concerned as he grips your shoulders tightly. You snap out of your shock and hold his arms, before you lead him to the bedroom.

He waits anxiously as he watches you go into the bathroom and bring out one of the tests and show it to him.

He freezes.

Eye darting up at you and the test.

Breathing growing heavy as he processes what you're showing to him, you're taken aback when he yanks you forward and presses his lips tightly against yours, the test drops from your hand and soon, you're pressed up against the near wall as Aemond continues to kiss you, hand trailing up your shirt, pulling your bra down before pawing at your breast.

You hiss into his mouth at the sensitivity and he slowly massages it, thumb tracing over your nipple, rubbing circles as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp.

He grinds his hip against yours, and you can feel how hard he is, bulge pressing against you, he pulls away with a wet click, breathing heavily, you can see by the way his eyes shine brightly that he is happy, looking at you with so much adoration, his lips trail down your neck, pressing kisses there and you gasp, hands entangled in his hair.

He pulls back slightly before undoing his pants, still in his suit having arrived from work just a few moments ago, he removes his coat before letting it fall on the ground and then his tie, unbuttoning a few buttons of his shirt. Then he presses against you once again, kissing you so desperately before grabbing you by your thighs and lifting you, you wrap your legs around him to maintain balance.

Just like that he pulls you off the wall and takes you over to the bed, laying you down on it as he hands work to undo your clothes, pulling off your top and bottoms, leaving you only in underwear, but soon that's off too, and now you were fully bare to the the world.

It was arousing, watching him be fully clothed while you had nothing covering you, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. He pulls his cock out of its confinement and gives it some pumps.

He spreads your legs apart, revealing your folds to him, burning holes into the sight, and then he enters inside, you moan so loudly at the intrusion, that he has his hand slapping over your mouth once again, “Be quiet, what if he hears?” he hisses softly and you felt an extreme amount of deja vu but you nodded, biting your lip, gripping the sheets below as arch your back.

And just as he was about to start moving, you hear Aenys, knocking on the door.

“Mum!! Are you okay?” you hear his voice and Aemond quickly pulls out, “Fuck, seven hells.” groaning, annoyed by the intrusion and plops down on the bed next to you, and you put on your clothes as fast as you can, before fixing your hair and opening the door.

“Momma! I heard you screaming, are you okay.” he asks, his eyes looking at you with such concern and you smile at him gently, trying to ignore the heat in your face due to embarassment, and nod, Aemond appears behind you and Aenys is surprised to see him.

“Papa's home!” he beams brightly and Aemond picks him up, “Did you not have work papa?” he asks and Aemond answers with a quick no.

“Your mother called me for an emergency. So I rushed over.” He answers and Aenys looks at you concerned.

“What happened mama?” he looks at you, asking you a question, eyebrows raising in concern as his voice becomes less hearable at the end, worried that you were badly hurt.

“Nothing too serious Aenys, it's just that- you know how you told me you always wanted a sibling?” you ask and he nods, “Well, you are getting one, I'm pregnant.” and he squeals in joy.

“Right now?!!!” he asks, which makes you and Aemond chuckle, “Not right now, it will take time.” Aemond tells him and Aenys pouts, “But I can't wait that long!” he sulks and you chuckle.

Aemond didn't know what happened to him the moment you started to swell, the proof of his seed taking as your womb stretched to accommodate the growing foetus, which inevitably caused your tummy to grow, drove him mad.

You looked so pretty with his child in your belly, you were still taking classes, Aemond had requested for them to be conducted online as you cannot travel back and forth, he didn't want to risk your comfort and travelling too much can cause stress for you.

You were 6 months along, and Aenys often talked to your belly, saying things like 'I can't wait for you to come out! I have my toys, hopefully you'll like them!' And then rubbing your stomach. Though he was extremely confused at first, at how a literal human being is growing inside you.

Aemond can never take his hands off your bump, he would rest his head on it gently, press a few kisses and tell the unborn baby how much he loves them, he sometimes dozes off on it, feeling comforted.

He became more physical, well not like he was any less physical, but it was becoming more noticeable and desparate now.

Which led to the moment now.

Him pounding himself deep into you, not hard enough to hurt you but just enough as his hand is placed on your belly gently, caressing the bump before it makes its way up towards your breast, playing with the nipple and pulling on it.

Your hands were held behind your back, face pushed down unto the bed as he took you from behind, watching as your body kept jolting and the moans helplessly leaving your mouth.

“F-fuck Aemond I'm close!” you whimper and he grunts, “Cum for me baby, soak my cock.” he responded and that was enough for you to just reach your peak.

You moaned loudly into the room, and soon after, he came too, spilling himself inside you and pulling out, you quickly turned on your back and laid in exhaustion, hand resting on the bump as you breathed in deeply.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks concerned but you shake your head no, “No, I'm just tired.” you tell him and he places a kiss on your forehead before cleaning both you and himself up.

The pains you felt were unbearable, the contractions being extremely painful as you tried to breath in, just like the nurses had instructed, and you pushed as much as you can, gripping the sheets and Aemond's hand tightly, it hurt for him but he knew you were in more pain than him.

You huffed in exhaustion, not being able to push anymore, eyes drooping off into slumber, sweat covering you, the pain was keeping you awake but making you weak at the same time, and the moment Aemond saw how your grip loosened on his hand, he panicked.

His soul left his body in that moment for a second.

No way.

Please gods no.

Not her.

Not her as well.

His lone eye widened, as his mind raced.

Truth be told, when you were nearing the final month of your pregnancy, he became more paranoid, wondering if you'll suffer the same fate as Alys, and he didn't want that, and yet the scene in front of him was pointing exactly in that direction.

Maybe he was cursed.

Maybe any woman that gives birth to his children is doomed.

A thousand thoughts flowed in and out.

Until he felt your grip tighten again, accompanied by a loud scream as you gave the final push, your ears were ringing and your head spinning, but soon everything was silenced by the sound of a newborn baby crying.

“It's a girl.” they announced.

You let out a shaky breath as you watched in tiredness while the doctors cleaned the baby up and tended to you, before giving the baby to you, you smiled at her, the babe now more calm and cooing.

You noticed her white tuft of hair atop of her head, smiling at the fact that she got her father's looks, and you turned to look at Aemond who seemed to be in daze.

You were alive.

He was happy that the baby was born, but he was more happier that you made it out alive.

“What do you wish to name her?” Your tired voice asks him and he snaps out of his daze, taking in his daughter's features.

Though she is yet to grow to her full features, Aemond already knew that she was already resembling him, her eyes opened to reveal the purple, which was currently resembling almost a dark shade as the baby was just born.

“Daenys.” He answers and you smile.

“Such a pretty name, similar to Aenys.” you comment and he smiles.

It had already been a year since that day, the day Daenys was born, and she was already turning one, Aemond got all emotional, shedding a few tears at the pictures of her first birthday before his attentions snaps to her running around with her brother Aenys, or more like tries to run, it's just her speed waddling considering how she only learnt to walk recently.

You can clearly tell Aemond has a hard time accepting that his kids are growing up.

“Baaaaa Awenys!” She babbles his name in frustration and he giggles before stopping and letting her come to him. Aenys was such a good older brother, he was already protective of his sister, not letting any harm come her way.

“Be careful Daenys.” he watches as you go up to them and sit down with them, probably having finished your online classes. Aemond shifted his office to his house, mostly working from home since he decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, especially his wife.

Yes, wife.

You both got married soon after.

He decided to finally go through with his plan.

And he had never been so happy in his entire life.

You watched as Aenys took his sister in his playroom and started playing with her, sharing his toys, you smiled at the heart warming sight before coming over to sit next to Aemond on the couch.

“Feels like only yesterday I gave birth to her.” you tell him, noticing the pictures he took on her 1st birthday.

He leans his head against your shoulder, breathing your scent in, “Hmm.” he hums, agreeing with you.

“I want one that has your features.” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them and you look at him, “I mean- both aenys and daenys look like me, or at least, have my features, I want a kid that has yours, your [hair-color] coloured hair.” he lifts his head up and caresses your hair, you give him a smile.

“What are we waiting for then?” you tease and his eye widens before he smirks too.

“I'll call my mother to pick them up.” he says hurriedly, way too excited and quickly dials her number which makes you huff out a laugh.

Getting some alone time with kids around is tough, and getting some action while at it? Nope not happening.

It's not like Aemond blamed the kids for it, but he missed you, he often reminisced about the days in the past where he would fuck you on every surface possible when Aenys was asleep or not around, but now he isn't able to do that anymore, considering you both got busy with kids and work.

And the way motherhood suited you so much only made it worse, he has to constantly not think about wanting to get you pregnant over and over again, he loves it way too much for it to be normal, though he doesn't rob you of your independence.

Aenys and Daenys were so confused when Alicent came to pick them up, she gave you a knowing smirk and you blushed slightly, Aenys refused to go but Alicent somehow convinced him and so they went.

And now you both are alone.

Aemond had your hands tied above your hand and he took his sweet time with your body, kissing every inch that he missed for the past few months, savouring each and every little moment, the way his mouth would latch on to your nipple, leaking your sweet milk into his mouth, and he moans at the taste.

Though you had weaned off Daenys just recently, you still produced some amount of milk for a bit until your body had to adjust and realise that it shouldn't produce milk anymore since you aren't feeding anymore, and with Aemond now suckling it seems it might take a while.

“Fuck it tastes so divine.” he asserts, his hand moving up and down your body, giving the other breast a squeeze, and then he went lower and lower, fingers parting your folds as he dipped them inside, smirking at feeling how wet you were and you squirmed.

He started pumping them inside and out, watching as you gasped, hands struggling in their tied up state, he continued to suckle on your breast before shifting to the other one to do the same.

As you reach your peak on his fingers, he deattaches himself and pulls his fingers out, giving them a long sensual lick, before shoving them into your mouth, and you obey his silent command, sucking on it.

He pulls them out and his hands grap the underside of your thighs and lifts your hips, settling in a position where your legs rested on his shoulder as he entered in one swift motion, morning when he felt the ridge of your wall, he thrusted up into you violently, making you moan out loud and struggle to keep your hands still, nails digging into your own flesh at the pleasure being given to you.

He closed his eyes when he felt you clench around him, trying to stop himself from cumming before you, though it seemed to fail when he heard you let out a moan of his name, he grunted and spilled himself inside you, but continued to move, his hand rubbed circles unto your clit, urging you to reach your orgasm and you do.

“Fuck! Aem!” you throw your head back, as it hits you as a shock, electricity travelling up your body.

And that was the night Aenys' and Daenys' little sibling, a girl, once again, Aelora, was created.

Just like Aemond had hoped, she was born with your features, though she had one purple eye and one of your eye colour.

Aemond was content with his life, and you are finally pursuing your career and maintaining a healthy balance between work and life.

Everything was perfect.

———

GENERAL TAGLIST:

@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

DM TO BE REMOVED!

PART TWO TAGLIST:

@marihoneywk @nightdiamond866 @targaryenmoony @siriusdumblittlepuppy @givemeeverything

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yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

paired & puppy-eyed | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.

⛓️word count: 4.6k

⛓️warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, reader calls herself a sl*t one time, dick tattoo, many rounds of sex off screen😔

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: if you're looking for the ✨filthy✨ smut version, read paired & pierced from the reader's pov! this one takes place in the same 2 days but from jungkook's pov without explicit smut😔 if you read both, lmk which version you preferred! i personally like this one more bc we get more catdad!jjk heh

Jungkook doesn’t always have a goal for the day, but today is different. He’s running on approximately zero hours of sleep and would love to get a nap in before class starts. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.

Unfortunately for him, that won’t be happening today because there are at least ten girls huddled next to his desk when he walks into the classroom. An onlooker might assume that these girls are gathered around for a chance to win his heart over, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, there’s a queen bee sitting a foot away from him, and she’s the one everyone’s always drawn to.

That queen bee is none other than you.

As Jungkook quietly takes his seat, he overhears something about that Loudmouth Jim who sits on the other side of the classroom. Apparently, you were hanging out with that guy at some party. A girl like you can do so much better than Loudmouth Jim who always needs to make everything about him. He couldn’t accept it when his ex broke up with him, so he turned it around on her to make it seem like he was the one breaking things off with her. Now he’s made it his mission to make her jealous by flirting with popular girls like you. Jungkook swears he only knows this because his tattoo artist loves to spill the tea he hears from his other clients.

“Is he as big as they say?” All the girls look so wide-eyed and eager to hear what you have to say about Loudmouth Jim’s cock. They talk about shit like this all the time, and as much as it makes Jungkook want to bang his head against a brick wall, he’s also lowkey disappointed that they’ve never once wondered about the size of his cock. He wouldn’t mind if that seed were planted in that pretty little head of yours.

As it turns out, you haven’t seen Loudmouth Jim’s cock. Thank god. And from what it sounds like, you didn’t want to see it anyway. Good girl. In fact, when Jungkook takes a peek next door, you don’t even look super engaged in the girl talk. You nod along and smile a bit, but you’re a lot quieter than one would expect for someone so popular. It’s kind of cute.

Eventually, class begins and Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief. Now the girls have to cut the chitchat and leave. At long last, he can finally catch up on some sleep. This wouldn’t be an issue if not for the tiny demon kitten that wandered to his doorstep a week ago. Not only does she keep him awake at night by knocking shit down and chewing on his phone charger, but she also haunts him in his sleep.

He dreams of the little fucker swatting her paws against his back and wiggling her tiny body into his hood. When that isn’t enough to get his attention, she starts gnawing on his index finger.

“Hey Jungkook.”

The boy opens an eye and the first thing he sees is you bent down in front of him as if you were about to do something indecent under his desk. He immediately shakes that thought out of his head, though he still has no fucking clue why you’re down there looking up at him with such needy puppy dog eyes.

“Wanna be partners?” you ask him.

Still half-asleep, he looks around the room and sees everyone pairing up and talking about a project of some sort. Fucking hell. He absolutely despises any and all projects that aren’t individual. Even the ones where a super pretty girl is asking to pair up with him. But before he can decline, he notices you checking over your shoulder and sees Loudmouth Jim on his way over. Ah, it all makes sense now. You’re just using him to avoid being partners with that asshole. It’s a matter of picking the lesser of two evils. Understandable.

“Sure, I guess.” As much as Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, he wouldn’t have had it in him to say no to you anyway. Not with those puppy eyes.

“Good, good.” The smile on your face is too much. Why are you smiling that big for something as small as agreeing to be your partner? It’s really not that deep. But it is really cute. Fuck. See, this is what happens when he doesn’t get enough sleep—his mind develops some sort of irrational softness that won’t go away until he either lets his body rest or rubs one out. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that nasty soft feeling out of his system.

Seeing how the classroom isn’t the best place to have his hand in his pants, he opts to fall back asleep before class ends. Hopefully he won’t be disturbed by any more kitten nightmares.

Ten seconds later, Loudmouth Jim enters the scene, and Jungkook can kiss his nap goodbye. Still slumped over, the sleep-deprived boy listens in on the awkward exchange between you and Loudmouth. Bro apparently can’t take a hint that you want nothing to do with him. Jungkook would step in and tell Jim to fuck off, but he wants to see you do it yourself. That would be kind of hot.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry,” you say in an apologetic tone. You probably get taken advantage of all the time because of that compassion. There’s no need for you to be so nice to everyone you interact with, and especially not to shallow people like Jim. That must be exhausting.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” Loudmouth spits. Kid? Jungkook does his best not to snort while pretending to be dead. When he takes a peek, he sees you nod. “And you said yes?”

You nod again. This time, however, you don’t give him the gentleness you’re known for. With a furrowed brow, you almost look bothered—something you probably feel all the time but never show. It’s so rare to see your emotions out in the open like that. It’d be quite intriguing to see how you look when you’re genuinely happy, sad, mad, horny—

Nope. Jeon Jungkook is not going to let his sleepy mind wander there on a Friday morning. It can at least wait until he gets home.

After Loudmouth Jim is gone, Jungkook sits up and stares at you. Your face has already softened back up. Fuck it. He’s never seen anyone so cute in his entire life, through sleep-deprived glasses or not.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you.” Kind of a dick move of him to ruffle your feathers when he already knows about your distaste for Jim, but Jungkook is genuinely curious to hear what you have to say. And he’s not one to be curious about other people’s affairs.

“That’s not what he wanted,” you say. They don’t call him Bad Intentions Jim for nothing.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” Perhaps “friends” isn’t the best word to describe the rest of your classmates, but it’s clear that they enjoy being in your presence.

Apparently, you feel a bit more detached than that. According to you, no one’s going out of their way to save you from a hypothetical burning house. Jungkook probably would. But there’s no way in hell he’s admitting something like that. He’d sound like a simp!

“Who would you save?” he asks. Surely you have someone you’d put before anyone else. Anyone would be lucky to be your number one.

“No one.”

Jungkook knows he shouldn’t feel a certain way about your answer, but he can’t control how his lips curl into the slightest smile. Your response is proof that the two of you aren’t as different as it seems. He might even like you for it.

Heck, he might even offer to do the whole damn project by himself and still give you credit for it! That’s the plan he has cooked up for his antisocial self—until you keep insisting on working together. Something about meeting up on the weekend. Maybe he should stop playing hard to get and just say okay.

“I’m busy.” He immediately hates himself for saying it. That’s his default response for any sort of social gathering, and his dumbass went on autopilot for no reason.

“Busy with what?” The way you flutter your eyelashes at him is both innocent and seductive. Are you actually flirting with him? Because it’s working.

“My newborn,” he utters out of panic. It didn’t entirely come out of his ass, though. The vet did say his kitten is around eight weeks. That’s basically a newborn, and she’s definitely been keeping him busy.

But then your eyes get all big and sparkly. “You have a child?”

How the fuck is Jungkook supposed to respond to that? You’re so excited over a human baby that doesn’t exist, and now he has to be the bringer of bad news. He normally doesn’t feel bad for others, but this makes him feel like absolute shit.

“If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?” you offer. Why the fuck are you so gullible and trusting in him, and why is that a huge turn-on for him?

“I was just fucking with you…” he finally comes clean. You look exactly like the surprised Pikachu meme, and yes, it’s adorable. Fine, you win. He gives you his number and address and invites you over.

All that for a fucking project.

When Jungkook returns home, a sleepy kitten waddles its way over to the door to greet him. She yawns her fish breath in his face as soon as he picks her up for a kiss. Ungrateful little demon.

She doesn’t stop there, either. With a burst of energy and a bushy tail, she flicks her eyes around, looking for a wire to chew on. The computer cords must be quite appetizing because she keeps trying to eat them.

“Hey, that's dangerous, Lucy.” Jungkook peels the kitten away from the wires and sets her down on his bed, but she just runs right back into the danger zone. “Lucinda, you little shit.”

Twenty minutes later, the boy makes a run to the pet store and returns with a few peace offerings. He’s not much of a cat person, so he has no idea what all the young kittens are into nowadays. Hopefully they like mouse toys and pink bunnies.

Like the new father he is, Jungkook spends the rest of his evening teaching the kitten how to play fetch, rocking her to sleep, and tucking her in with the mouse and bunny. Finally, the demon has been tamed.

By the time he gets into bed, it’s already past midnight. He’s exhausted and should probably get some sleep, and yet his mind is still wandering. He can’t quite shake that image of you getting down on your knees at his desk, just begging for his attention. For a second, it looked as though you, the most popular girl on campus, were lusting after his cynical smartass self. The mere possibility of that lures his hand into his pants to address that ache he’s been enduring all day. But before he can get any relief, he hears a set of paws back on the prowl.

Jungkook hobbles out of bed and turns on the light. To no one’s surprise, the naughty kitten is caught red-handed with a wire in her mouth.

With a sigh, he collects the kitty, sits her down in his lap, turns his computer on, and opens up the code for the partner project. It’s going to be a long night.

The funny thing is, the assignment itself doesn’t require much time or effort. What takes up all his time and effort is this silly kitten. She’s adorable but so damn needy. Kind of like you. If you were here to work on the project with him like you’d fought so hard to do, you’d surely be much too big of a distraction. No work would ever get done when you bat your eyes at him and giggle over the tiniest things.

It takes a good few hours between modifying and adding lines of code and keeping an eye on the troublemaker, but Jungkook eventually gets it done before the sun rises. As an added bonus, the naughty little wire fairy has finally worn herself out. She curls into a ball on top of Jungkook’s chest and falls into a deep slumber. The boy is out a minute later.

It’s around ten in the morning when Jungkook wakes up and checks his phone. You’re supposed to drop by sometime today, aren’t you? He wishes he knew when to expect you, or if you weren’t coming at all. It’s up to you to message him, though, since he gave you his number and not the other way around.

Just then, he hears a knock at the door. His first instinct says it’s you. But then he checks his phone again and sees no new message from your unknown number. Surely you’d shoot him a text before heading his way.

It’s probably just the special package of kitty toys he ordered a few days ago. He’d get up to check, but he’s not trying to disturb the little rascal from her slumber. She’s still resting peacefully on his chest, and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

But what if the package gets stolen? Jungkook spent a lot more money than he’d like to admit on those kitty toys, and he’d be pretty pissed if someone took that away from his child.

Groaning, Jungkook slowly lifts the sleepy kitten off his chest and places her on the warm spot where he’d been lying. She stretches out her tiny limbs but otherwise continues her snooze. Perfect.

The first thing he sees when he opens the door is your bare tummy because you’ve apparently decided to show up at his door unannounced in a micro crop top. It’s so short your pretty tits might pop out if your arms were held above your head. Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t mind seeing a little underboob if that’s the look you’re going for today.

Then he notices you staring at him like he’s a stranger. You haven’t even greeted him yet. He watches as your eyes travel up his bare arm to his face and messy man bun, and then back to his arm. That’s when it hits him. This is the first time you’re seeing any of his tattoos and piercings.

The quiet studious Jeon Jungkook at school doesn’t look like the type to have a full sleeve or this many piercings. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself and prefers to keep a low profile. Life is just easier that way. That’s why he always takes his piercings out and covers his tattoos with a hoodie when it’s time to go to class.

Seeing him now in a muscle tank must be quite shocking to you.

“Why do you look like that?” You have the audacity to point the finger at him when you’re looking that good in your little crop top. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

Oh? You sound kind of upset at the fact that he’s been intentionally hiding his body art in class. Like you’ve been missing out.

“Maybe,” he answers as he leads you inside. Your curious eyes are still glued to his tattoos. You ask why he hides it all, and he mentions his distaste for compliments and small talk.

He does it to avoid the exact things you’re so good at attracting.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” You bring out a pouty lip to combo with those puppy eyes. He wonders how you make your pupils so big like that. And what the fuck are you so whiny for? You want to admire his body art that badly? Fine.

“I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment.” Without a single thought, he lifts his tatted arm for you to grab onto. Your hands are so soft and warm as they slide across each tattoo. It’s in times like this that Jungkook wishes his entire body was covered in tattoos for you to trace with that angelic touch.

After what feels like forever, you still haven’t said your one compliment. It seems like you’re just using this as an excuse to latch onto his arm like his little kitten.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” He’d give you a nudge but his arm is too busy being fondled.

“I wish I could see all of them.” Your eyes meet his as your tits press into his arm. The compliment is innocent at face value, but the implications behind it sure as hell aren’t. Oh, you definitely want to fuck him.

If you think you can just waltz into his home with that crop top, drool all over his tattoos, and ask for sex so shamelessly, you’re not wrong. His body is aching to squeeze those tits, to feel just how tight you are, and to make you squirm until you squirt.

“Ooh kitty.” Like an easily distracted toddler, you toss his arm aside and move on to the next toy that fascinates you. The kitten drops her mouse in front of you and sniffs your hand when you scoop her up. Jungkook watches from afar as his own kitten steals you away from him. She even presses her pink nose to your cheek. That little fucker.

Jungkook has to bite his tongue at least five times to stop himself from asking if you’re done playing with his cat. He’d come off as jealous and needy for your attention. Instead, he acts like the mature father he is and puts her to bed in that pink new donut cushion he’d bought for her the other day. She kneads her paws on the bunny until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and settles into the loaf position. He’s convinced she’s only behaving like an angel right now to impress his lady friend.

“So what’s this project again?” The boy has no intentions of actually working on the project, but he’d prefer it if you weren’t so focused on his cat.

“You’d know if you were listening!” You turn back to the cat again. He could’ve sworn he heard you whispering something into her triangle ears like, “Your daddy is so useless.”

Hearing that name come out of your mouth is confirmation. Confirmation that you’d be so submissive if he were to spread your legs open and make you his little plaything. And he kind of likes the sound of that.

“I’m just fucking with you again. I already finished it, by the way,” he hums. Since you seem to be the stubborn type when it comes to project participation, he sits you down at his computer with the finished code to prove that daddy is not in fact useless.

He expects you to be all wide-eyed and impressed by his work, but you simply sigh as you run the program. Great. It appears he has yet another ungrateful little thing on his hands.

But then you start adding in a bunch of stuff “for the aesthetic” because although he’s “quite possibly the nerdiest boy you’ve ever met,” there’s still room for growth when it comes to “the fun shit.” And by “the fun shit,” you mean coding in a cat doing some elaborate kpop choreo.

Half an hour later, you run the final product again and submit it in its perfect form. Aren’t you the nerd here? Quite possibly the prettiest nerd he’s ever met.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd,” Jungkook says before face-palming internally. Why does he always resort to name-calling as his way of flirting with people? This is why no one likes him and why he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. He’s going to ruin a good thing with you if he keeps that up.

But to his surprise, you throw the name right back at him with a playful smile on your face. “If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd.”

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him.” But a threesome with you? Sounds interesting.

You call Jim an asshole and don’t deny that you have a bunch of shallow relationships with the people in your class. When the boy asks you about it, you admit it’s intentional. It’s this mindset of surrounding yourself with a lot of different people until you run into the few you click with.

And while Jungkook can’t relate to having that many connections to his peers, he understands the desire for someone who cares for you unconditionally and makes you want to do the same. He’s been waiting for that person to show up for him too. Idly. At least you’re putting yourself out there.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, lying down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling and not at the pretty person sitting less than a foot away from him. You’d joined him on the bed at some point to play with the kitten, but the feline was very quick to abandon you. Now it’s just you and him.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in.” Your voice is flirty and soft. The boy knows he might have a big ego at times, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about him. You wouldn’t be on his bed eyeing him like that if that weren’t the case.

With that knowledge in mind, Jungkook decides to tease you some more. “I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it? You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” Your face hovers over his like the moon during an eclipse, except you’re much more enticing to look at. He catches your eyes on his lips until they find their way up to meet his gaze. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

Liar.

“Really?” His body suddenly moves on its own, overcome with the lust that had been building up since you first showed him those puppy eyes in class. He pulls you beneath him and holds both of your wrists above your head. He was right. That crop top is indeed short enough to show him some underboob with you in that helpless position. And, much like how you said you wanted to see all his tattoos, he wants nothing more in this moment than to see the rest of you until he’s seen it all.

Purposely keeping the tiniest distance between his lips and yours, he whispers, “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

As the afternoon turns to evening, you’re still at Jungkook’s place, still fondling his arm on his bed, and still obsessed with all the art and piercings that grace his body. The two of you had fallen asleep after getting a few rounds of filthy sex out of your systems, much to the boy’s surprise. He’s used to people leaving right after, whether it’s because the relationship was purely sexual or because it just wasn’t worth his time. You’re different, though. There’s something about you that he wants to keep holding onto.

“Did this one hurt?” You poke the metal sticking out of his eyebrow.

“Not as much as you stabbing me with your finger just now,” he frowns, running a hand through his messy hair. The man bun must’ve come out at some point in the midst of all that hair pulling and wrestling in the sheets.

“You must have really low pain tolerance then,” you giggle with your finger ready to poke him someplace else. But before you can do so, he closes his hand around yours and tucks your pointy finger away to put an end to your antics. “You’re no fun,” you pout.

“Really? You seemed like you were enjoying it when I let you s—”

“Where’s this one from?” You somehow dodge the accusation and free your finger from his grasp to poke the shark tattoo that you now know hides beneath his shirt. You’re so sneaky.

“Someone.” Aka the same artist he gets his gossip from.

“What about the… snake one?” Of course that’s the one that pops into your dirty little head.

“Someone else.” Aka the one he might have slept with a few times before she convinced him that the snake would look good on him there. She wasn’t wrong. “You’re nosy.”

“I’m just asking! Maybe I want a tattoo too!” you squeak. Jungkook has no doubt in his mind that you’d look pretty damn hot with any tattoo anywhere on that body. “Tattoos are attractive, no?”

“Be honest, you only fucked me for my tattoos, huh.” The boy knows this to be false because you aren’t the shallow type, but he just wants to hear what other good things you have to say about him. Because maybe he doesn’t hear that a lot from others.

“Obviously. It had nothing to do with how hot you are, or how easy you are to talk to, or how soft you are for your cat, or how perfect of a pair we made for that project,” you lie with the most charming smile ever, snuggling up as close as you possibly can to his body. Twirling his long hair around your finger, you tuck it behind his ear, and whisper, “I’m such a little slut for your tattooed cock.”

The boy gets yet another urge to tear your clothes off again and feel your bare body connect with his so perfectly. He’s just about to shove his hand into your panties (you gave up on pants after the third time) when you let out a tiny snicker.

“I take back what I said about you not being fun,” you say, lips flush against his neck. “You’re fun to tease.”

Him? Fun to tease? Maybe you’re forgetting about all the teasing and torture he put you through earlier. Maybe you’re in need of a little reminder.

“Hey,” he says in his stern parent voice. You look up at him with those big innocent eyes again. Oh great. It’s clear that you know his weakness and aren’t afraid to exploit it. Just like how his naughty little kitten knows she can get away with anything because she’s too cute to get mad at. “Behave or I’ll kick you out.”

“Oh?” His so-called threat catches your attention enough to get your ass in his lap and your hands tangled in his hair. You let him taste your lips, your tongue, your everything—a sweet taste he won’t ever get sick of. “Do whatever you please to me,” you purr as the soft kisses quickly become an unbearable heat of pure desire.

Between you and his kitten, Jungkook already knows he’s gonna have his hands full. The thought of caring for others would normally irk him, but it’s not like he could ever say no to you or the kitten, even if he tried.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

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pebblethestone · 3 months

Text

One Wrong Action ²

Vox x Reader /Alastor's sibling

Summary - going out for a walk what happens when someone shows up and ruins your day?

Masterlist

One Wrong Action Masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3

Words - 1100

Warnings - swearing

A/n - hello yet another chapter I've made a Taglist so if you would like to be added just send a comment and I'll be sure to add you

─────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹─────────

Your ears twitch hearing Charlie as she starts to rant about the hotel to Vaggie, angle dust nagging your ear off as you try and be patient as you can with him.

“Well, I would never have of guessed that you and that strawberry pimp are even related, I mean you are both deers~~ bu-” As you hear him say strawberry pimp you burst out laughing not that you did that much as Angle moves back a little surprise with your sudden outburst. Wiping the edges of your eyes as you feel tears.

“Oh my I have never heard anyone call him that, it's great, I will be using it at some point” A lazy smile falls on your face as you hear that Charlie has stopped talking, you look at her as her eyes widen as well as Vaggie's.

“What? Can I not laugh at something so stupid? Am I really that scary to you?” you asked as your lips fell back to a line, you know that being an overlord and people didn't trust them very much but you do try and gain the sinner's trust unless you just dislike them in general for example Val like who wouldn't hate him.

“No, no it's just we didn't expect you to laugh, you're always so serious. Plus we've never seen you react like that before.” Charlie explains to you.

“ah I see, it does not mean that am always serious its just a resting face I seem to have. And you all hardly know me” you say to her as she nods at you and then carries on talking to Vaggie.

“So anyway, sugar do you have a tail? Like a little one? Like deers?” he asks as he tries to take a look.

“That for me to know and you to find out, Angle Dust” the corner of your lip moving up.

“Ugh, you're just like your brother with more words than just an answer,” he says to you annoyed.

“well, we are related so would it not come to you, that I may have similar attitudes to him” you say watching him as you give him a little wink. getting up from where you were sitting and started to head towards the door.

“Y/n, where are you going?” Charlie says from behind you turning your head to look at her she looks a little worried.

“Just on a stroll hon, and to get some cooking stuff, since I do want you all to taste my fabulous cooking for tonight's tea” you say opening the door and heading out, not waiting for Charlie to reply to you.

---

As you walk down a street to get your supplies you hear a car slow down to your walking speed you stop and turn your head to look at it as the window of the car rolls down, the first thing you see is a TV head. Your face scrunching up.

“Vox, I would say what a surprise but it really is not when you do this 'every week'” you say to him the tone of your voice deepening as the end of your words. Watching him open the car door and stepping next to you, you let out a pitiful sigh.

“but we haven't talked in days, and you never use the brick of yours to reply” You roll your eyes at him as you walk he walks along with you. As you walk into a restaurant that you own.

“Well, you seem to forget that I am not very good at using technology and all the buttons are too close to each other, it's a real pain to type with.” as you side-eye him, those years ago his TV head was much larger, but now it was thinner much be lighter, still looked good in his suit maybe change a little and the way he walked. Wait what are you saying? Shaking your head as you pin your ears back annoyed at yourself.

“Well, I thought that using an older version of a phone would make it easier for you, how about I make you something easier to use?” he says to you.

“no, am fine with the technology box that I have” you say your ears still pinned back. as you walk into the back of the restaurant where all the supplies are. You see him turn his head towards you.

“ah, I remember those ears, always pinned back when you're pissed as something,” he says his hand moving up to pat than that he once did. As you quickly grab his hand.

“Remember that last time you did that I broke your screen am sure you don't want that to happen again” you say as your grip on his hand tightens and your sharp teeth appear as he takes that sign to step back.

“Well you didn't say that to me when we first meet, I only touch one hair and all I saw was a fucking first punch me, but you did like it when we were together~” he says to you a little smirk dancing on his face. Oh how punchable it looked. As your face turns into a snarl.

“You dare say that to me on my turf?! We are not together anymore you have to let it go vox! I'll be at that meeting only because it's a deal and I have to go!” you half shouted the tone of your voice going funny as it cracked.

“Wait Y/--” Before he could say more you click your fingers together as you appear in the kitchen of the hotel with everything you need as you put stuff where it's meant to go.

You go over to the door to lock it, heading back to the counter in the kitchen leaning your elbows on the counter as bring your hands up to your face and drag your hand down your face unsure of what to do with what's happening with Vox. Grabbing a glass on the side as you throw it on the floor leaving sharp shards of glass on the tiled fool.

--Vox 3rd P.O.V--

“Wait Y/n” before he could finish what he was going to say you had disappeared like you always do exactly like your brother, he let out a sound of anger.

“Fuck, how the fuck do i all ways mess this shit up” he says to as if he's talking to someone his face feeling into all sorts of emotions, all he wanted was to be with you again but he had managed to mess that up as well...

---

Part 3

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Taglist - @hxzbinwrites @22carolina08

#x reader #reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #alastor x sibling reader #alastor x sister reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x brother reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader

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allidoistrytrytryy · 8 months

Text

a moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me (cove holden x reader)

ao3 version here

summary: Cove Holden and the black underwear (from Patreon moment 2, if you know you know), except it's his own surprise on a random Friday (smut with feelings)

word count: 3,116 words

tags: smut, porn with feelings, porn without plot, light dom/sub, switching, sexual intimacy, they're in love your honour, author has been feeling insane about cove for years and lately about the black underwear so here we are (female reader implied but i tried to be as non-descriptive as possible, can be a male trans reader too)

You were exhausted, your fingers rubbed at your eyelids and at your forehead, trying to take the headache away.

You had had a large project at your job, long hours, and planning that took too much of your time. You came home late, too late, so late sometimes Cove would already be in bed or asleep on the couch, always waiting for you (even though you had told him to sleep, not to wait up for you if you were too late, but he insisted every time).

You sighed at the thought of your fiancee. You missed him too much, missed being able to have time with him, going out on weekends or lazing around after work to watch a show you would fall asleep through anyway, snuggled in his warmth.

You hadn’t been able to do that in more than two weeks, always working, always in contact with your coworkers to continue the project even deep into the night. You were glad today was the presentation, and then you were taking a few days off, away from everything.

You felt the fear in your gut at the presentation. You were nerves on legs, as you always were when you had to talk in front of an audience. You knew that would never change, the way you spaced out, waiting and waiting, at your desk.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, which took you out of your thoughts and the ball in your stomach. A smile crept up on your face before you even had the time to read what the text said, at the name appearing on your screen.

Cove.

Romeo: You have this, show them what you’re made of. Love you. <3

You smiled hard, your finger rubbing at the heart emoji with the text, at the picture you had set as his picture on your phone. A picture of him asleep on your couch, snuggled under a blanket, his long hair freed from its usual low bun.

You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to take a picture, and your fingers had gone through his hair.

You sent him a heart back, now fired back up. You could do this, go home and kiss your fiancee senselessly until you fell asleep snuggled into his warmth.

And the presentation happened. It went well, and you shared smiles and compliments with your colleagues. Sighs of relief. You could all go home peacefully tonight.

Which you did. You sprinted to your car when the hour came, your colleagues’ laughter following you down the elevator. They all knew you were eager to be home again, to be with the fiancee you talked about too much. (You couldn’t help it. You loved Cove Holden too much, loved him since you were eight. What could you do?)

The drive went quickly and you arrived at your little place a bit further from the city in record time. When you parked in your spot, next to Cove’s car who was already there and home, you realized you had forgotten to send him a text. You bit your lip, hoping he hadn’t waited for it.

Five unread texts with Cove inquiring about the presentation, worried. Shit.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex quickly, your keys already in hand. You entered.

”I’m home! Sorry, I completely forgot to answer your texts, I’m so so...” You interrupted yourself by the sight of your living room, your coffee table with a range of plates and food, and even a cake.

Hands sneaked around your waist, a kiss on your hair, a chest against your back. Your fiancee enveloped you, mint, citrus and this particular ocean smell in your nose and you finally relaxed. “Hi sweetheart, how was it?” he asked gently.

You turned around in his arms and, as always, you had to crane your neck to look up into his eyes. You hadn't been fortunate with height while Cove had had too much of it over the years. His arms circled your waist. “Went smoothly, we can finally breathe now,” you answered and got on your tiptoes to kiss him quickly, which he answered with that giddy smile he never lost around you. “Now, what’s all of this, Covie?”

”Well, I knew it would go perfectly since it’s you,” you rolled your eyes at the remark but the smile betrayed you, the blush even more. “and wanted to celebrate it. I got your favorite things from your favorite places and got a cake.”

Cove looked like it wasn’t even an effort, and it wasn’t in your relationship. You both made so much effort, so much again and again for each other that it was just normal. But, it didn't change the fact that you were always touched by every gesture.

You still couldn’t phantom how dear you were to this man sometimes. You still couldn’t understand how your heart never seemed to stop expanding for him, taking in every piece, every detail, every word and action from him.

Your hands dragged his face to you, to kiss him deeply, like you had wanted to since you had finished the project. He sighed against your lips, that content sigh, his lips and tongue entangled with yours. An intimacy you could never get enough of.

”I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips and his eyes misted over, your crybaby, always yours.

”I love you too,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment, wanted to stay in this moment suspended in time.

Until you dragged him to the couch to drape yourself over him, eating and barely paying attention to whatever was on the TV as background noise. You talked about the project. He talked about his day and his own job.

When you finished, he pushed you to the bathroom. “Go take a bath, relax, I got the dishes,” Cove reassured and you pouted.

”But, I can help, I didn’t get dinner so it should be me,” you whined in his shoulder and he laughed while pushing in the bathroom while you couldn’t do anything.

”No way. Go, now,” he kissed your cheek and you still pouted as you got into the bathroom.

You did well on what he had told you to do, spending too much time in a hot bath until it got cold, your body wrapped in your comfortable fuzzy robe. You finally stepped out to get to the bedroom, itching to put your pajamas on, and fall asleep next to Cove.

The too-large shirt was in your hands, actually just one of Cove’s shirts you had stolen and never returned, as you did since you were teenagers, even before you were officially truly together. You hadn’t realized why the light was so dim, hadn't realized Cove was on the bed.

You turned your head slowly and you felt your knees wobble, felt your eyes widen until they almost popped out of your skull.

You had seen Cove in all types of clothes and nakedness over the years. You knew him and his body by heart, the moles, the sleeve on his right arm that you loved to kiss all over, the dips, and where the redness would creep. But right now? You were speechless.

Cove fucking Holden was sat against the headboard, half-lidded eyes on you, but you could see the blush high on his face and ears and down his neck. He was naked, well, except for the underwear but it was the underwear that made you want to scream.

It was black but it barely hid anything, the green happy trail visible from that delicious V-shape you liked to bite, down a dangerous low dip. Straps followed his hips and they showed his hipbones. You almost wanted to ask him to get up and show the back, to see how it looked over that ass you loved too much.

”Surprise,” he simply said, wanting to sound sultry but ending up at excited, embarrassed, waiting.

The shirt slipped through your fingers, forgotten on the floor, and you were still speechless. “What...are you...” you swallowed hard, heat at the back of your neck, on your ears.

Large shoulders were shrugged and he tilted his head, “I… we talked about how I wanted to try some...lingerie out and I thought it would be a good idea for a celebration.”

He was still waiting and you could see how waiting affected him, the redness ever more present on his face and down his neck, the quick jostle of his knee. You approached the bed slowly, eyes laser-focused on him.

You could feel a restraint slowly unfurling in your gut, a wait. You had missed Cove and his hands on you, you had missed the everyday intimacy but you had also missed the sexual intimacy you shared. You both couldn’t have enough of each other sometimes, a pull between your hearts and your bodies.

Your hands settled on the edge of the bed, and you crawled slowly to him, putting up a show for his eyes and his eyes only. The robe dipped down and he gulped, his eyes on your cleavage, on your bare chest visible underneath. You smirked, finding a place between his legs, hands on his thighs, so so close to the dangerous piece of underwear that threatened your composure.

”So, you decided to gift my eyes with this, baby?” you whispered, a finger playing with a strap at his hip. “You’re way too good for me.”

Cove gulped again and you wanted to bite at his Adam’s apple, leaving marks on his pale skin until everybody would know. He shook his head.

”What? You don't agree that you’re too good for me?” you asked, a little pout at the words, your eyes on his face. You were playing the game of how sultry you could be, how much you could push it until his own restraints broke. “Maybe I should show you.”

Your hands traced the straps and the edges of the underwear. Your mouth found a nipple as your hands traced but never touched where you could feel a hardness growing and growing. His moans hit your ears and you smiled, your tongue playing from one nipple to another.

”You don't have to...” he tried to say, his moans high, and god, did you love how vocal he could be. He was always so vocal, so good.

”I want to, so be a good boy, baby,” you whispered, bit at the side of his chest, so muscular, so pretty. He moaned higher, hips bucking against your chest. Your mouth traveled down and down, following the green trail of hair. “Driving me crazy with this, Covie.”

Your hands caressed the hardness over the fabric, but your mouth found the tip already out with how hard he was. The dip was so low that the tip was the only thing visible, so your tongue swirled around it, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds. You moaned, fingers at the straps.

”Oh my god," Cove whined loudly, hips bucking again, the tip making its way deeper into your mouth. “Shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to...”

You shook your head and pulled at the straps downward, until the underwear sat underneath his cock and you pushed more and more into your mouth, desperate for more, to make him feel even better.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck," you heard him repeat and you wanted to smile, to tease him like you always did because he only ever cursed in those moments, so gone, so desperate.

More and more, until you felt tears in your eyes, until you breathed through your nose, hands at what you couldn’t fit down your throat because of how big he was. But you loved it, thighs clenching to relieve the ache that formed in between.

It wasn’t about you, even though you could spend hours between his legs, to look at his head thrown back, his eyes closed and face scrunched up, like now. He looked out of this world, long hair around his head, down his shoulders, redness still at his face, sweat down his neck and on his chest. You couldn’t believe he was yours still.

”Shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna… I’m...” Cove’s voice rang out and you felt how tight his balls were getting, see how his abs tightened. He was close, and a part of you wanted him to cum in your mouth, but you had another plan.

You popped off his hardness with a loud pop, saliva around your mouth, and his head rose up, his eyes opened in question. You crawled back up his body, your hands opening your robe, until you could throw it on the floor beside the large bed. You settled on his lap, hands on his shoulders.

You swatted his hands away before they could fall on your hips, and you saw the small pout on his face that you kissed away with a laugh. “Sorry, no touching baby, be good a bit longer for me,” you kissed along his face, nibbled at his neck, leaving a few hickeys as your hips moved, your wetness rubbing on his cock.

Cove whined still against your shoulder, “But you look so good… And you’re so wet,” he moaned, groaned. “Let me touch you, please,” he begged but you shook your head, your hips rising up to catch the tip at the edge of your wetness, of your warmth.

You slowly sunk down, your own moan unable to stay in your throat at the delicious burn his cock always gave you, that fullness that always took your breath away. You hummed as you sank lower and lower.

His eyes were closed tightly, his body trembled when you finished back on his lap, the length fully inside you. You stayed still, enjoying the moment, and his hands stayed beside his hips, beside the underwear that was still underneath his cock, trapping his legs in place. He was taut, all muscles tight and restrained.

”Please, please, move," Cove begged and you could only answer with your hips moving up and slamming back down.

Your moans intertwined with Cove’s, as you rode him, slowly, building a faster rhythm with every breath, every moan. You rode him, a deep pleasure building in your stomach, pleasure built with his moans in your ear, your teeth at his shoulder.

You rode him until your thighs trembled and his hips, so restrained until now, slammed up in response. You almost screamed his name. It had hit that one spot deep inside and your body had fallen down onto his chest.

All restraint broke in his body, his hands at your hips, so tight you knew you would feel them still tomorrow, “Sorry, I can’t...” he breathed out, before his hips slammed up again and again, his hands guiding your hips down every time.

“Fuck, Cove, Cove,” you repeated his name, your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes on the spot that joined your two bodies together, his cock sliding in and out.

His name on your lips broke him again and you lost all control you had on the situation. His hands manhandled you on your back, almost ripped the underwear that had started it all off his legs, and he had your legs folded against his chest before he slid back in.

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your hands tugged at his hair, and your eyes were on him always. The muscles bulging with every movement, the sweat trickling down, the pure ferocity and desperation on his face.

Cove wasn't always pushed to this side of dominance, if not ever. Not to this degree. You both liked to switch, to play with what were the limits and new things, but falling back into lovemaking most of the time. Here, your gentle sweet Cove was gone, to leave a rougher Cove you loved too, your moans encouraging him.

”Don’t stop, Cove, don’t stop," you begged, hands desperate in his hair, hips moving to answer every thrust deep inside, against the spot. You could barely talk and he could only groan and moan, his own mouth busy on your nipples, back arched.

You were getting closer and closer, and he could feel it, the way you arched more and more, the way you were tighter and tighter around him, the way your moans only got louder. His eyes were on your face, a hand moving down from your hip to the nub of nerves, so wet from everything.

Your head tilted back into the pillow, “Cove, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, warned and he hummed in response, his thumb insistent on your clit, in time with every thrust. Your back arched even more, the pleasure exploding in your stomach, behind your eyes, and in your whole body until you were left a trembling thing underneath Cove.

His thrusts slowed down, but your hips moved and you shook your head. “No, don't stop, need you to cum,” you croaked out, voice spent, hands still tugging at his hair.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Cove moaned over you, eyes half-lidded on your face, but you shook your head again. You tugged him closer, forehead against his.

”You can’t hurt me. Please Cove, I love you, please,” you begged, his thrusts were erratic and you could tell he was close.

”I love you, fuck, I love you so much, I love you," he repeated against your cheek, and you hummed, answered back, until he moaned louder.

Until the final thrust, until he came deep inside you with your name on his lips and you kissed his face.

Cove detangled himself from you only to bring back a wet washcloth, to wipe you and himself. You only got up to go the toilets, fast and impatient, to find him back in bed, under the covers.

You cuddled in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder, legs entangled to look at him. Content, beautiful. It was magical, as always, to go to sleep with him every night, to have him be the last thing you always saw at night.

”Well, that was a nice surprise," you giggled and he smiled lazily. “I’ll be the one to surprise you next time.”

He groaned lightly but laughed, forehead hitting yours gently. “If you want me to really die, sure,” and you could only laugh, his lips on your eyelids, yours reaching up to kiss his eyebrows. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed, “I love you, Covie.”

His smile grew larger, and his cheeks turned red as always, “I love you too.”

And you fell asleep, safe, happy, home, where you belonged.

#our life #our life beginnings & always #our life beginnings #cove holden #cove holden headcannons #cove holden smut #cove holden x reader #cove holden x mc #cove holden x you #cove holden fanfic #our life fanfic

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