#or could i say auditoriums | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 5 months

Text

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star

PAIRING: Professor!Task Force 141 X F!Student!Reader WORD COUNT 5.3k CONTENT WARNING: NSFW! group sex, age gap, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, facefucking/blowjobs, unprotected sex, p in v, anal sex, slight usage of nicknames, reader is a pianist/student, tf141 are professors, smut with plot SYNOPSIS: A musician is a storyteller in their own ways. You had told yours and captured the sights of men you never expected to pull when you stepped inside an academy. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to be poetic. This fried my brain and I'm not going to write something like this again. That's a lie because I have a series that has 5 love interests. This one was supposed to have Graves as well since he's actually my inspiration for writing this shit, but I ended up not adding him. I might do it on Drabbles if someone asks though. And yes, I have changed my username from DontFearTheReaperAzura. Here's the Masterlist for more! Also on Archive of Our Own

Your fingers fluttered slightly as you lifted your hands to the keys, blocking out the rustling from others as they sat in the grand auditorium. Long and drawn, you began to tell a tale you had held for a long time. Notes swam in the air, old friends that played with your tresses and caressed your skin.

The story started slowly, the sound of the beginning, the beginning of the end. Longing clashed with trepidation, your fingers sang a song of despair. You swayed with the music, lost in the whims of unspoken words—of a world you owned. Quicker and quicker, the notes climbed in sync with your heart, growing joyful in hopes of masking the mournful melody surrounding you.

It filled the emptiness deep within your chest for a moment, before like the heavens shed tears upon a barren land, you showed—you poured out the lore of your world, and with heavy reluctance to leave what you created, you played the last few notes.

For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, and when a series of claps reached your ears, only then you opened them. You were shackled back to reality just as you held back your work.

You looked at the people, who in your eyes were nothing but shadows at the beginning, now enamored, yearning for the rest. You knew they felt it, too. Pulled, as though you were the center of the system. Like the Sun, a star.

And one man stuck out more than others, gazing at you, blue eyes almost ravenous. But it didn’t last for long, just like a song in the wind, he faded among the standing crowd, drowned out in the flurry of praise.

You breathed out a sigh as you stared at the towering structure before you, now your second hell—in replacement of the ramshackle place you call home—after you had gotten a scholarship to this prestigious university after years of a couple of years of working your ass off. Students rushed past you on their way in and out of their classes, but you stood frozen.

Suddenly you felt awfully unprepared for this unfamiliar place, of socializing and strangers, and of university. Of life. What did Google say about socializing with people your age again? How about impressing a professor? Good lord.

You shrugged off your thoughts and sauntered to your class. A large lecture hall welcomed your sight and you found an empty seat at the front row. Not the perfect place for observation of the whole place, but good for listening to the professor.

The sound of expensive shoes echoed throughout the hushed room and you kept your eyes down as you took out your notebook and pen. As the quiet dragged on, you glanced at the professor and found your brows raising at his sight.

He was tall, seemed to be fit, and in his thirties. He had a few wrinkles, a beard, and brown hair, but no sign of graying.

Above all, you could remember those eyes. An endless swirl of blue. The man at the concert hall.

You put your gaze down as the professor looked down on you, your heart hammered against your ribs, sudden nervousness springing in your nerves. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you, but at the same time, you hoped he did.

Yet, the silence remained, and in curiosity, you looked back up. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, gaze shining with something you couldn’t decipher, and a smile formed on his lips.

You forced yourself to mirror it and batted a glance at the door. You wanted to get out.

The professor introduced himself as Jonathan Price, and told the class a few things about himself, before diving straight into the first lesson of Philosophy.

Time seemed to flow fast throughout his class and you kept your fingers busy, writing down his words. He was easy to understand, bringing out intricate details in his lesson, and asked questions now and then if he was going too fast while walking around the room.

You couldn’t help but notice his slacks fit in a certain area. Then again, that thing wouldn’t give you a brain cell even if you suck it off.

The bell chimed and you gathered and stuffed your notebook and pen inside your bag, jolting up to your feet. But as you approached the exit, his canorous voice called out to you.

“Pardon me, young lady.”

You turned to face the professor, keeping a respectable distance from him, which he closed off, only standing a couple of feet from you.

“Yes, sir?” You asked in a small voice when he remained silent, his eyes studying you with disconcerting intensity, just like how he gazed at you at your performance.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, he asked. “What’s your name?”

You spoke of your name in a steady voice, equally confused and intimidated, you gripped on the strap of your bag. Everyone had already left, now bringing quietness to the hall.

He smiled once again, his head tilting a bit to the side. “A pretty name.” His voice sent goosebumps on your skin, making you breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of his pleasant cologne. “Such a shame I couldn’t catch it after your performance a couple of weeks ago.”

He remembered you.

Your cheeks began to burn.

Oh, how he yearned to caress your tinted cheeks, place a kiss on them, and mutter praise against your soft skin.

“Ah, you were there, weren’t you, sir?” You offered him a smile and a pause. “I think I caught a glance of you in the front rows.”

“Correct.”

“Thank you for watching, sir,” you said, not knowing what to speak of next, and nodded at him, reaching out to the knob to leave. But he reached for the door, making you blink at his unexpected actions, caged between the door and him.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he fessed, bodies now closer to yours that you almost touched, and you gulped. “You were magnificent.” He opened the door, a hand motioning at you. “See you on Wednesday. And I hope we see more of your performance.”

We?

You jolted awake at the loud laughter of a raucous group outside of your room and grunted at the sudden pang of pain in your head when you stood up. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bedside and muttered a crisp curse, hauling your bag. You burst out of your room, slipping past students in the hallway like a breeze, hurried apologies were called out to those poor victims she bumped into.

The morning had been long and tiring, and you decided to take a nap earlier, only to end up sleeping for a couple of hours. Now, you were about to get late for your next class, and the usual ten-minute walk turned into a five-minute run and an uncalled exercise.

You glanced from left to right in the hallway, glancing at your phone to make sure you were in the right building, and turned to the right, following the signs. You halted before a room, strangely closed even though the class was supposed to start in five minutes.

You used your phone as a mirror and patted down your hair, before turning the knob and opening the door. You walked into a softly lit room and realized the mistake you had made as you spotted a man splayed down on a couch across the room. A hand behind his head and over his stomach, and over the lower half of his face was a black mask.

Inside was a personal office, belonging to one of the professors.

You immediately turned away, about to exit the room when an angry voice echoed.

“Have you got no manners?” The man rose to sit, a scowl painted on his face.

For the nth time in your sorry life, you wanted to bury yourself alive. You dipped your head low in embarrassment. “I’m very sorry, sir. I thought this was the room my class was in. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You frantically fumbled on your phone, inputting the wrong password one time, and read your schedule.

You read the room number wrong.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

The professor fixed his crooked mask. “What class were you supposed to go to?”

“Uh, a math class of Mr. Simon Riley,” you read on your phone, keeping your head low.

A hum escaped past the man’s lips, making you glance up at him. His dark blond hair slightly ruffled from his apparent nap and coat a bit crooked. He ran his hand on his hair, fixed his coat, and patted down the invisible wrinkles on the fabric.

He stood up and you inched back, surprised at his stature. A tall man with broad shoulders and arms noticeably strong, (massive honkers) and eyes like a pool of honey, swirling like molten gold under the light.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I’m Simon Riley. You’re in my office, our class is in the next room.” Unlike earlier, his cold voice had turned a bit softer, but the fact that he was your professor made your sweat run cold.

You nodded, inwardly wincing at your dumbass. “Again, I apologize, sir.”

He stood before you, next to the opened door. Gladly, there were no students passing by in the hallway.

“What is your name, love?” he questioned, his hands going to his pockets. His eyes narrowed at the way your head dipped, refusing to meet his gaze. Like a meek little bunny, scared of the world and what all those pretty eyes could see.

He wanted to place a finger under your chin and lift your face up to look at him.

You never knew introducing yourself could feel like an interrogation until now. You told him your name, averting your gaze down at his shoes that shifted slightly. “Nice to meet you, Sir Riley. I’m sorry it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

He hummed once again and stepped out of the office. “Pleasure’s all mine."

You followed him out of the room and he swiftly closed the door behind you, his being a bit closer to you than comfort.

With a nod, Professor Riley led you to the classroom. Dozens of students had already occupied the room and you silently made your way to a vacant seat on the second row, placing your bag next to you.

Just like Mr. Price, the masked professor went straight to the point, briefly introducing himself to the crowd, and began his lesson. He, too, was easy to understand, repeating the equations some couldn't get well, and was kind enough to let the class take a few minutes of break, before continuing. You had also come to notice he would fix his mask every once in a short while.

And when the bell chimed, he bid his students goodbye, yet called for your name. You halted on gathering your things as he approached you. His eyes glanced at the students who last left the room before he spoke.

"Feel free to come by my office whenever you have a question or need anything. Can't have you lose your way again, do we?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice as he leaned close.

You smiled at his offer. "Thank you, sir."

Sure as shooting, you asked him where your next room was for Chemistry. By good fortune, he knew where it was and who the professor would be.

"Ah, there he is." Sir Riley abruptly came to a stop, making you halt in your tracks as well and follow the direction of his gaze, to see a man with a mohawk.

"Simon!" The man jogged towards the two of you, a grin playing on his lips in contrast to the man who never took off his mask. Another person with blue optics, but his were bluer as though someone took a piece of the briny deep and placed it in his optics.

He kept a smile as his attention swept to you. "And who's the little bird?"

You frowned a bit at the nickname, nonetheless gave him your name, and watched his eyes light up with fascination. The man began to tell the pull he felt by the notes of your music, how enamored he was by the unspoken words of your tale.

He was there, too and Sir Riley was along with them.

Your face flushed as he ranted and they both noticed, taking note of the shades painted on your skin, bashful of the sudden recognition.

"He is John Mactavish, your Chemistry professor," Sir Riley piped in, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before bidding his farewell at the moment, marching down to his next class.

Left all alone with Professor Mactavish, you turned to him. He grinned at you and he beckoned at you to follow him. The man was, well, talkative and wasted not a second expressing his applause of your performance and how he never expected to see you in the university.

You could only mutter small words and nod, already feeling exhausted. But it was pleasant to hear him compliment you. You could get used to it.

And you could get used to his enthusiasm for teaching. His first lesson went straight to an experiment and dragged you to his side as his assistant, instructing you to mix chemicals. Occasionally, his fingers brushed over yours as you passed vials.

Your eyes met, and sparks flew all around.

Literal spark.

And fire.

Professor Mactavish pulled you to the side, hand remaining on your arm as the chemicals were set ablaze.

With a couple of ticks of the clock, a giggle erupted from your lips and like there was a pull, his chuckles followed.

In the sea of awes, his laughter floated on the surface.

You sprinted on the hall, navigating through the winding routes of the structures, and arrived at one of the most exquisite auditoriums you had ever set eyes on. Your eyes took in the magnificent chandeliers and the divine paintings stretched across the ceiling.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled you from your stupor.

“Are you just going to stand there?” a voice called for your attention to where he stood near the stage. The man basked in the warm glow of the concert hall, skin as though molten caramel, and eyes like embers.

“Oh, forgive me, sir.” You straightened yourself up like a soldier before a superior. “I was just, well, this place is beautiful.” You couldn’t help but glance around once again.

“Isn’t it?” A soft smile crawled its way to his lips and he approached you. “I am Mr. Garrick and you are . . .” your name rolled out of his tongue like a serenade, gentle to the ears, a sight to see the way his lips moved, and he extended a hand to you.

You clasped it gently before realization dawned on you. “Pardon me, Garrick as in the Kyle Garrick?”

In a flash of a moment, something sparkled in his eyes and searched yours. “Yes, it is me.”

You nearly squealed and ran around the room in excitement. “Oh my God. Wow. I-I’m a huge fan, sir. You were such a huge inspiration to me—and, and, I wished I could have watched your performance at the concert before, but I was busy preparing for mine. Oh, that must be why Mr. Price, Mr. Riley, and Mr. MacTavish were there! You are friends!” Your words tumbled out of delight.

"Yes, well, thank you for the kind words." His hand sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his smile becoming wider.

You gazed at him for a few moments before you snapped out of it, your brain slapping it to your face that you just rambled in front of this gentleman. "I'm very sorry, that was unprofessional of me."

"No need for apologies. But I do want to get a feel of your play today as soon as possible." A hand landed on your back, his warmth slipping through the fabric as he led you towards the grand piano patiently waiting for you at the stage.

Your fingers itched in anticipation.

Sir Garrick gave you a comforting smile and sat on the front row seat. "Feel free to play whatever your heart desires."

What your heart desires.

With a shaky breath, once again, you began to tell a tale, the notes sounding like a human voice as it wove its sonorous song.

A ballad to tie what dream your heart made. An andante at first and increased tempo at each heartbeat.

Lightning striking and thunder howling, Kyle was consumed with the way you swayed from one note to another. He couldn't peel his eyes off you as though you had him in your grasp, a puppet for you to control. And only when the last of the music hung in the air, could he snap free of the strings.

He walked towards you and dropped to his knee, taking one of your hands in his palm. "You were truly astonishing."

"I'm telling you, she was marvelous," Kyle exclaimed, pacing around Price's office and pointing at his fellow professors. "Blimey, if only you guys were there the other day, you'd feel chills."

Simon kept a straight face as he sat on the couch, legs spread, his knees bumping with Johnny who took a seat beside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. Whilst, Jonathan inclined on his chair behind a mahogany desk, decorated with intricate carvings and souvenirs he had gathered as they traveled across continents.

"I get that you're delighted, but could you quiet down?" Price grumbled on his desk, a pang of pain shooting his head.

"No, I am not shutting up." Kyle raised a hand, shaking his head. "She recognized my name. My name.” He pointed at himself.

“Anyone would recognize your name if they’re yer fan or hater,” Johnny quipped and placed the mug down on the coffee table.

Kyle turned to him. “You don’t get it, mate. She said she’s a fan of mine. I was a huge inspiration to her—”

“Was a huge inspiration to her,” Simon echoed, leaning back against the couch. “Used to be, not anymore.”

Kyle glared and stomped towards the masked man, grabbing his collar when the other merely raised his brows in a challenge. “I swear to God, Simon, I swear to—”

“I swear to God if you three don’t shut the fuck up—” Price paused, straightening himself from his chair as Kyle shook Simon, and glared at them— “I’ll have you asinine blokes chopped into bits!”

Kyle let go of Simon, who simply fixed his crooked collar and tie, and raised a brow at the man behind the desk. He sat down on a vacant chair, his eyes not leaving Price, and asked, “Are you jealous she recognized me, Price?” he was answered with another glare, which he shrugged at. “Or not.” He definitely is.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, each lost in their train of thought. All centered on a certain lady, whom they had watched from afar, now within their grasp. They only acted as though it was their first time meeting you.

Each born to a wealthy family, presented interesting things which soon died down as they broke them down into pieces, they had grown bored. And had found that there were only a few they could put their trust in this world. Though not related by blood, they shared everything since they were younger. They knew one another strengths and weaknesses. Their faults. Their passions.

Their desires.

A knock pulled them out of their reveries.

Johnny being the closest to the door, got up and opened it. A smile was brought to his face as he found you. “Hello, bonnie. C’mon in.” He swung the door open, a hand motioning at you.

You hesitantly stepped in as you saw your professors inside the office, eyes all settled on you. You put a hand on your other arm to hold down your nervousness as the door behind you shut.

Four men who were strangely overly friendly to you. You could think of a couple of reasons. The first being a musician they had watched and the second, being their student.

A hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you further in, making your face flush. “Have a seat,” Sir MacTavish waved a hand at the sofa, where he and Simon sat.

You kept your gaze low as you obeyed him, sitting between him and your math professor, red cheeks going in a deeper shade as you met Kyle’s gaze. Embarrassed, you finally faced Price, and asked, “What is it that you called me for, Professor?”

Price put his elbows over his desk and intertwined his fingers. “We have a proposition for you . . .” Your name rolled sensually out of his tongue.

The proposition was to be their assistant. Given their overlapping schedules these days, it was hard for them to handle them. At first, you refused the offer, telling them you had a part-time job to do, along with practicing your skills in piano. But they had already thought about that and said they could pay you for your work.

A tempting proposal. Perfect for a student like you who got into this prestigious school through a scholarship.

You tapped your pen on the table and heaved a sound sigh, slouching on the chair. You were in a cafe near the school, in an attempt to change the atmosphere and help you write a report for Sir MacTavish's and Sir Price’s classes, but it didn’t seem to be helping at the moment. A pleasant music came from your earphones to block out the background noises and you closed your eyes to lull yourself.

When you opened your eyes, you jolted up your seat. “Shit!” your hands immediately flew to your potty mouth and straightened your spine at the sight of one of your professors, Simon, across the table. “Ah, uh, I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t notice you—”

“Why do you apologize so often?” his rough voice was low and he placed a cup of tea on the table. His eyes landed on your notebook, full of notes, written clean as though it was printed.

You pursed your lips, unable to think of an answer, and ran your tongue over the soft flesh, catching Simon’s attention. “I . . .”

Simon glanced around the empty cafe, the only other person within the area was the staff over the counter, who kept her eyes on her phone. And you had perfectly picked a secluded spot. He looked back at you and reached out a hand, placing it under your chin. He lifted your face to bring your eyes to his.

Your heart raced at his actions.

“An angel as brilliant as you are should carry yourself with confidence, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your lips. “Perhaps, we could teach you that.”

Your lips parted at his touch, warmth pooling at your stomach. You knew this was strange—wrong, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

But he let go and leaned back, and you found yourself gripping on your thigh. “Have you thought of our proposal last week?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “I have, sir.”

“What do you say?”

“The offer is good, and I don’t think it will clash with my schedule under normal circumstances, either.” You paused, letting him wait for your answer as you gazed into his caramel eyes. “I’ll take it, professor.”

You were fond of puzzles. You were interested in mysteries. And you were drawn to danger.

Being their assistant had more perks than you initially thought it was. You talked with them about their terms and added some of yours, and they seemed to be pretty considerate about it.

Maybe, a bit too much.

You had moved to an apartment they got you, so you wouldn’t be distracted by your roommates. When you had breaks, they would call you to their offices and give you desserts and snacks.

And more often than not, their touches lingered, turning into hugs, caressing, and pinching when in private. To close, seemingly the start of a taboo, a risk, and yet when Professor Price had you pinned between him and Professor Garrick in his office one late night when most of the people at school had gone home, you didn't want them to stop.

You wanted the heat to rush over you, like a forest fire, unwavering.

Didn't pull back when he planted his lips on you. Didn't stop the very professor you looked up to as a musician to bunch up your skirt and grind his dick against your ass. Didn't stop even when the other two entered and Sir Price had his hand rubbing against your clothed cunt. Didn't stop when Professor Riley locked the door behind him as Sir Mactavish joined in.

Johnny’s snaked a hand around your waist, a bit harsher than the ones he’d always done, but you didn’t mind it. Not when his lips were gentle against yours, patient and exploring as he led you on his lap when he sat on your couch, stealing you from Price and Garrick. He drank on your gasp as you felt another pair of lips on your nape, dusting kisses along your flesh.

Simon breathed against your shoulder, hand grasping the swell of your breast and performed maddening massage that got your nipples pebbling under the fabric of your top. You flinched when he took them by fingers, the rolls languid, and shifted on the other man’s lap as you felt a poke underneath.

Johnny groaned against you, parting the breathtaking kiss. He removed you from his lap, only to turn you against him, now facing the professor who had shed his mask. His fingers dipped under the band of your panties, into your untouched bud and your wet folds. He rubbed with a hum, spreading your filth.

“You're so wet, hen,” he commented and inserted a digit, rubbing it against your slick walls.

Your teeth sunk to your lower lip, biting back a squeal at the sudden intrusion.

Simon placed his fingers under your chin and leaned down on you, his tongue running over your lips, something he had always wanted to do before. “Don't bite your lips. That's something we're supposed to do, yeah?” He whispered on your lips and explored your mouth, savoring the echoes of your pleasure, and left to plant his marks on your collarbones. Hands gathered your shirt and lifted it, exposing your chest to his sight.

His mouth dropped to the nipple, sucking while his hand went to work on the other.

Johnny began to pump faster, making you throw your head back to his chest, moaning out in pleasure as you shot a glance at other professors.

“You are not so innocent after all, hm?” Price took your jaw and ran his thumb over your lips, before pushing it in, muffling your cries.

“No one's that innocent nowadays, Price,” Garrick remarked, watching the frown on your face and the flutter of your lashes at every jerk of Johnny's hand made and Simon’s tongue did. His tongue ran over his lips, hand cupping over his hard-on, palming himself through his pants.

You began to suck on Price’s finger, making his dick twitch in his pants—his brain wondering how good your mouth would feel around him. He pulled his hand away to work down on his belt and pants, hands pulling out his shaft. He gave it a few pumps, chuckling when he noticed the way your tongue ran over your swollen lips before a groan escaped from it as Simon planted a bite on your neck and Johnny's thumb began to work on your clit.

Price brought his tip to your mouth. “Open up, dove,” he demanded and grunted as he pushed his shaft in, breath hitching at the warm feeling of your tongue and your throat. Your face twisted a bit at the taste of his precum. He let you adjust for a couple of seconds, hand going to the back of your head before he began to thrust.

One of your hands flew to hold onto his hip as you let him use your mouth, eyes fluttering closed and focusing on breathing through your nose. Out of the blue, Johnny pulled his fingers out and Simon stepped away, eliciting a whine from you. Vibrations ran down Price’s body and he groaned.

Unbuckling of belts echoed in the air, and you were pulled away from Price, making him curse. The next thing you knew, you were staring into the eyes of the man you had admired for so long.

“Sir—”

Kyle put his thumb over your lips, cutting off your words. “Not sir. Call me Kyle.” He positioned his cock under your cunt, rubbing the tip on your entrance.

You gasped at the sensation. “Kyle . . .” Your jaw slacked as he slowly went in, hands pulling you closer to his clothed body, fingers running on your flesh, gentle just as how he played his instruments.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass to guide you up and down on his length.

Now, he made music out of you.

It didn’t take a few ticks of the clock until they fucked you with all they had.

Simon’s cock was buried in the confines of your mouth, fingers tangled on your tresses, watching the curls of your lashes get soaked by the tears that rolled down on your cheeks as they relentlessly pounded on you—Kyle on your pussy, Price on your ass, and Johnny on your grasps. You had never felt so full, so complete.

You feel your legs shake—the sign you have reached the pinnacle of pleasure and exhaustion when Kyle hits the spot deep in you. You whined against Simon’s cock, groaning as beg for the overdue orgasm that they had been keeping from you.

You felt a hand slide down your thigh, finding your swollen clit, before the rough pads of the fingers rubbed aguishly gentle and slow. If they weren’t your professors, you would have cursed at whoever the one was doing it. But your wish had been heard and he picked up the pace until you were crying, arching your back.

But they weren’t done.

You felt Kyle and Price become rougher at each of their thrust, Simon tugging on your hair harder, and Johnny losing his rhythm on your hands, until they all pulled back, coating your skin with their cum.

You slumped on Kyle’s chest, limbs like a stringless puppet as you ride out the aftermath of your orgasm. Your heavy lids fell close, tired from the deed, but you fought back the drowsiness, not wanting to fall asleep in the state you were in.

“You did good, love,” Kyle cooed into your ear and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

Johnny leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “Yer amazing, bonnie. Can’t wait to have more of ya.”

A hand caressed your flushed cheek, swiping the transparent mix of tears and sweat. “Let’s bring you back to your apartment, dove,” Price said in a gentle voice.

Gentle fingers scraped your scalp, gaining a hum from you, must be Simon with how his fingers feel on your head. An unspoken apology about the way he tugged on your locks.

Like the sky glowing, your skin glittered in the ruins they drew up. A masterpiece you were, vulnerable, vincible in their sight, like walls that had fallen. And yet as though a book which held thousands of words, they still had more things to know about you.

Like every start of a relationship. How fortresses were made. Each beginning of a story.

You basked in the echoes of their praise, letting their words bring you comfort and slowly help you regain your mind and strength.

Like after a fire, new maps were drawn. A new tale was written, with them, who swallowed a star.

Taglist: @itsyellow

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jeonggukieverse · 6 months

Note

So I saw you were taking requests, how about writing on this idea that Jungkook is dating someone (they have been dating for a long time) who would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things of y/n's life, and the boys would constantly hint that jk should give y/n more time. Jk gets super sad once she realises that he might be not making y/n happy anymore. A fluffy ending please. 💓 I hope this isn't too much ...

Mind & Music

Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader

Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation

Word count: 10k+

My first fic in ages! Feels good to be writing again~ This in not proofread because I was to excited to be uploading again hahah.

This request has been in my inbox for ages, thank you for being patient anon. Love ya

Let me know how you guys like it

- Ryeon <3

He isn’t here. You half expected him not to be.

Still, you found yourself gazing into the audience half expecting to see that specific mop of black hair. Again, disappointment pulls at your heart as you still don’t find it.

You hear your name being called and it snapped you out of your disheartening thoughts. You stood up and walked over to the podium and began your speech.

“Thank you all for coming out today. It’s a privilege to be presented with this award. I am honoured to be standing here in front of you as the youngest recipient of the universities achievement of the decade award. Though I would not have been able to do this without the support and guidance of- “

You pause for a moment as you saw familiar smiling faces staring back at you in the crowd. Yoongi and Tae beamed at you from the back of the auditorium. Even from so far away, you could still feel the smiles radiating from their faces. You mirrored their expressions and met their proud grins with one of your own as you continued your speech. Having them here almost made all of your butterflies flutter away. Almost. Cause only the presence of one person could have caused them to disappear completely.

After the ceremony was over, you rushed out to find your friends. You spotted them stood by the food table munching on some snacks. Your eyes locked with Tae’s first as you ran towards both men and rugby tackled them both into a giant bear hug.

“Y/N-ah! Please, be careful! You could have knocked over my cucumber sandwich” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung ‘smocking tone.

“Cucumber? That’s a little bland for you Kim Taehyung”

“First of all, don’t use my government name in public and second of all, it’s the best option this place has to offer. I mean, I get it, it’s Yonsei’s international focused program so it’s going to cater to foreigners but babe, you are in Korea! Where are the spices? Where is the flavour? Where is the taste?” He ranted while wiggling the pale looking sandwich in his hand. You giggled but you couldn’t deny he was wrong.

“Hey! As a foreigner, I do not claim this cuisine” You retorted.

“If you say so” Tae rolled his eyes.

You shook your head at him then turned your attention to the quiet figure next to you.

Yoongi smiled and held his hand towards you.

“The youngest recipient of the achievement of the decade award, huh? Very impressive”

Coming from anyone else, that sentence would have come out as painfully sarcastic but you knew coming from yoongi, it was the highest compliment he could have bestowed on a human being. You completely ignored his attempt at a hand shake and pulled him into a tight hug instead that he gladly accepted.

Yoongi was the first friend you had made in Korea. You had met on a language exchange app. He was the only guy you had spoken to that hadn’t asked to go ‘eat ramen’ with you, go ‘see his cat’ or ask you to join a cult. But still you carried pepper spray in your bag when you agreed to meet him at the coffee shop because stranger danger is still a thing. It turns out you didn’t need it cause Yoongi was the sweetest guy you had ever met. Blunt as hell but lovely still. You recalled fondly that upon your first meeting that he had told you that your Korean pronunciation was like an elementary school kid. Did it sting? Absolutely. Was it the last time he would say something like that? Absolutely not. But he made sure you improved and got better. He decided midway through your friendship that learning English was ‘too troublesome’ for him. He had made up his mind that listening to you speak English occasionally was the best way to learn…Sure yoongs.

It was actually Yoongi that introduced you to your boyfriend. Speaking of

“So where is he?”

Yoongi’s smile dropped slightly as he absorbed your change in mood.

“He’s in the studio with Joon. They’re still working on finalising the soundtrack.”

You forced a smile on your face, sensing the awkwardness in his voice.

“Ah, its okay! He’s working, I’m happy he at least has a good excuse! If he was at home playing overwatch or something, I would have been super mad” you said hoping your joking tone would mask your disappointment.

Taehyung chuckled but you know Yoongi could read you like a book. He knew how you really felt.

“Let’s go! The rest of the guys said they’d be at the bar, right? I want to show them how cute I look in all my graduation gear. Seokjin is going to die of jealousy cause there is no way in hell he looked this good on his graduation”

“He’s gonna murder you for even insinuating that” Tae gasped in feigned shock.

“I’d like to see him try” you sang as you skipped in the middle of the two men. You hooked both of your arms in theirs and pulled them towards the exit.

“There she is!”

This was the first thing you heard before you were met with a flurry of applause and cheers as you stepped into the bar.

You saw the gang sat at your regular booths now decorated with pink and white balloons and confetti. The table adorned with gifts and ‘congratulations banners’. Jimin, Seokjin, Hobi and Jennie stood there holding bottles of champaign. You felt your eyes start to well up, completely touched by the kind gesture.

“Aww you guys” you spoke, voice wavering.

“Ha! Pay up Seokjin, I told you Y/N would start crying before she even sat down! Thanks Y/N, you just won me 50000 won” Jennie exclaimed.

“No! Technically, she hasn’t cried! No tears have fallen from her eyes. C’mon Y/N keep it together” Jin begged.

“Sorry Jin, I gotta get my girl her money” You replied, blinking hard so the tears would run down your cheeks.

The group erupted in laughter as Soekjin took out his wallet.

“That’s enough you two. Tonight, is about Y/N. Congratulations sweetheart.” Jimin said as he pulled you into a hug. You accepted his embrace but you found yourself looking over his shoulder to see if your boyfriend was amongst the crowd. He wasn’t.

“Yeah, it’s about me! And my goal is to be as drunk as possible by the end of the night!” you proclaimed earning you more cheers from the group. Hopefully if you’re drunk, this feeling of disappointment will eventually go away.

And it does. After 4 shots of soju, 2 vodka lemonades and a weird cocktail concoction Jimin force fed you, you were feeling better than ever. You were on the dance floor with Jennie having the time of your life. That was until you felt arms wrap around your waist.

Oh hell no.

You spun yourself around ready to fight whoever in the hell thought they could touch you unprovoked. Before you could administer your first blow, you were met with a pair of beautifully familiar brown eyes.

There he was. Jeon Jungkook.

Your fighting stance shifted as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to envelop him in a warm hold. You inhaled his scent as he began to lovingly plant soft kisses in the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar fire start to burn at the pit of your stomach. His innocent gesture in your drunken state was igniting a reaction in you that you were eager to explore.

“I’m sorry baby” he whispered in your ear.

And just like that, the feeling was gone. At those three words your vagina dried up quicker than the Sahara Desert. Cause as quickly as you had forgotten, you were reminded once again that he had let you down again. But could you be mad? He was working. This had been his dream since he was a little kid and they were so close to finalising this project, they just needed to finish to complete some final composition. Could you be mad at him? You decide once again, that you couldn’t. Once again, you put his needs before yours. You pulled away from his shoulder and met his face. You plastered a fake smile on and put on another show.

“Baby, don’t be silly! Don’t worry about it, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you”

“I know you will”

And he did.

The next day, Jungkook took you out to a beautiful dinner to celebrate your achievement. You loved him and you appreciated the gesture, you always did. But you couldn’t help still feeling hurt.

You supported Jungkook, you always had and you always would.

It’s funny to think about how devoted you were to him considering how rocky your fist interaction was.

Jungkook was Yoongi’s roommate. You and yoongi had been friends now for about four months before he finally decided to invite you over to his apartment. You had to say, this made you very nervous because Yoongi had always been such a private guy. You knew enough about him to say that you were friends but he always kept himself to himself. This was a part of him that was refreshing to you, really. He was excellent at establishing boundaries. You’ve never had a friend like that before. He was very mature but also very kind and very sweet. So, when he invited you over to game night with his friends you were ecstatic. It’s finally felt like he let you in and that you became real friends.

And as excited as you were, you were equally nervous. Yoongi had told you bits and pieces about his friends but he assured you they were all really nice.

You were still on edge but you assured yourself that you were a pleasant person! You had come out of your shell so much in the last couple of months. Your introverted personality had been spun on its head and you were now someone completely different. The constant support from Yoongi and your advancements in your career had made you feel absolutely unstoppable.

And isn’t it amazing? How months of character development can be wiped away in 2 seconds.

As soon as you walked into Yoongi’s apartment, you wished you could walk right back out because the second your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook it was very apparent, he did not like you. Like, at all.

The boy, who had previously been laughing and talking to his friend, made eye contact with you and completely shut down. The smile fell from his face and his body suddenly became stiff and rigid. He looked at you for a millisecond before tearing away eye contact completely.

You tried to ignore him. You really did because the rest of Yoongi’s friends were so cool. They made you feel welcome and you felt almost at ease. But still, your consciousness couldn’t help but wonder over to the pale, inked up boy stood in the kitchen dressed in an oversized t-shirt and ripped black denim.

As much as you tried to ignore it, his coldness didn’t alleviate through the night as you’d hoped. In fact, not only did it not get better; it got worse as the night went on. As everyone kept drinking more and more you felt yourself become a little bolder. What was this guys problem? You haven’t done anything to him, he had no reason to be this hostile to you.

You raised this with Namjoon, another one of Yoongi’s roommates, who assured you that Jungkook was always a little weary of strangers. He was a shy person that had great difficulty adjusting to new people. His advice was to give him time to warm up to you and when you felt ready, try and start a casual conversation.

But it wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried that. You’d made several attempts through the night to try and speak to him to at least extend the olive branch but each time he refused running away from you as if you had some kind of disease. You were sick of it.

You saw him alone on the balcony a few hours later and realised that this was your chance. You marched up to the doors and slipped out to give this guy a piece of your mind. Hearing the noise behind him Jungkook turned his head to be met with you. Again, panic started to run through his body as he tried to make an escape around you but you would not let him.

“What is your problem?! What did I do to you why are you so weird towards me? I know Yoongi and Namjoon said that you are very selective with your friends and that’s cool but I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me so much. Fucking hell, we just met today! What could I possibly have done that hurt your feelings so much?!” You yelled at him. Your words slightly slurred. Liquid courage was really on your side tonight cause there was no way in hell sober Y/N could yell at him like this. Especially hear on the balcony, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight. And the way the evening breeze ruffled through his dark locks made him look like an actual prince.

“Woah, where did you get the impression that I didn’t like you?”

Huh?!

His almost idiotic question quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Was he being serious right now? Or is he just making fun of you?

“Are you kidding me? You haven’t looked at me the entire night, you haven’t introduced yourself and every time I come over to you to try and get some kind of conversation going you run off. Now tell me why are you doing all of that and not speaking to me like a normal human being !?”

“Because I think you’re pretty! And I’m intimidated by you!”

Eh?

You remained silent for what felt like forever. Did he really just say that or did you just imagine it? No, there is no way he woul-

“Jesus Christ, say something! Anything!” He huffed. Now putting the half empty beer bottle to his lips to stop his mouth from humiliating him even further.

Well, Jungkook thought, if he’s going to humiliate himself may as well fully go for it.

“You think Yoongi hasn’t told us about you? He’s told us how incredible you are. About how you’re a transfer student at the most prestigious college in Korea. About how you’re on track to be the recipient for the ‘biggest brain ever in the whole century award’ or whatever its called. He made you sound so cool; I was banking on you at least being a little bit of an asshole but again, Yoongi’s stories proved us wrong. He told us about how you willing let a random little girl sit next to you for 2 hours at a café because she wanted to practice speaking to you to improve her English. And if im being honest, the more I heard the more I wanted to meet you but when you came in today, looking as fucking beautiful as you do. Which Yoongi coincidentally forgot to mention which is funny cause he mentioned every- fucking -thing else. When you came in…”

He paused and let out a sigh. Breathing for what seemed like the first time since beginning his outburst.

“…When you came in, I realised how far away from me you were. And I dint have any business even speaking to you. We wouldn’t have anything in common and it would make me realise how inadequate I actually am”.

There was a pause again. Slowly, you began to let out a small giggle. Your small giggle quickly erupted into a full-bodied belly laugh. Your stomach began to hurt and your eyes began to water. You had to lean on the balcony door for support as you surely felt you would pass out.

During your breakdown, Jungkook could only stare at you his head tilted to the side like a confused bunny. His eyes fell to the floor as your laughter pierced him like a knife and was the cherry on top of his mortification.

“And you think Yoongi hasn’t told me about you, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as your laughter subsided.

“Jeon Jungkook, the musical prodigy. The Jeon Jungkook that could play the piano before he could even walk. The Jeon Jungkook that everyone refers to as the Golden Maknae because you’re so good at everything. Your friends are very vocal about not just your talents in your field but also socially. Apparently, you’re the reason you guys even exist as a friend group. You were the one to make friends with each of them and bring them all together. Do you know how impressive that is?! But I’m intimidating cause I’m a little smart and I’m not mean to children? You are something else Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook paused again. A chuckle escaped his mouth as his laughter then began to mimic yours. You joined him again as both of you stood on the balcony laughing with or at each other. You must have looked like maniacs but at the time both of you were too buzzed to care.

Either way, this broke the ice between both of you as you were both able to bypass each other’s extensive achievements and finally got to know each other as people.

You’ll never forget that night. You and Jungkook sat on that balcony from 10pm to 7am, long after the others had left or gone to bed. Just talking about anything and everything until you both reached a comfortable silence.

And as the sun was rising, welcoming a brand-new morning you nudged Jungkook’s hand. His head lazily turned towards yours and he met you with a dimpled smile.

“For what it’s worth” You smiled back.

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too”

That was 5 years ago and you and balcony boy have been inseparable ever since. You had now been there for every single important moment in each other’s life. Well…Almost.

3 years ago, Jungkook and Namjoon got the opportunity to produce a music score for a short film. Despite the films small budget, it managed to exceed all expectations and ended up getting nominated for a golden globe! You were ecstatic and so fucking proud of him. You felt like his talents and hard work were finally getting realised.

Little did you know it would be a bittersweet moment for yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Naturally as more eyes were on the film, more ears were listening to the soundtrack. This had your boyfriend pulled off to here there and everywhere in front of directors and movie studios all interested in investing in the musical duo. And finally they had been hired to compose an entire score to a new movie for a huge studio! This movie in particular, Jungkook had begged and pleaded for. He said the scrip and film premise really spoke to him and were perfect and he needed to compose this movie. This was such a huge deal for them and again you were over the moon. But there were downsides. During the first year after their debut you saw Jungkook 10 times that whole year. You spoke almost every day but almost every conversation ended in an argument. It was either and argument about you feeling neglected or him not feeling supported and it sucked. It really took a toll on both of you.

The second year was much better. This time for a bit more of a selfish reason. The film studio had its own recording studio in Seoul only a 20-minute walk from yours and Jungkook’s apartment! He was finally able to be home more and you could actually spend time together. And so you did.

Honestly, the first 6 months Jungkook was back home all you guys did was fuck. It was constant and almost none stop. You fucked in every room of the house at all hours of the day. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

There was a day you both decided to take a break from having sex and just play some video games together. It took you both all of 5 minutes before sonic was long forgotten about and you were bent over the sofa.

It was very romantic really. But even that joy was short lived.

Jungkook prioritised his art. That was one thing you’d always respected and admired about him. Even the way he talked about music that wasn’t his, he painted the emotions of the music into words to explain to you the way a piece made him feel. He could describe to you in detail the way the crescendos bend in the moments before it’s about to fall. About how the vibrations of the violins is the most romantic sound ever to grace the human consciousness. He was an artist through and through. His music was him and he was his music. They were one and could not be separated. But that raised a question for you:

Where did you fit in?

This is what made the dinner you were on now very melancholic. It was to make up for him missing your award acceptance.

He was sorry. You knew he was but you couldn’t ignore that this was your forth make up dinner this year: First was your birthday, second was your anniversary, third was dinner with your parents (that they had specifically flown out to Korea for) and the forth was the award. The award he knew you were on track to get before he’d even met you. The award you’d poured your heart into getting and the one you’d sacrificed so much for. But he was sorry, right? Plus, he had promised to make it up to you. Next week your professor had invited you to the university to give a special lecture to other projected recipients of the award you’d just achieved. It was a high honour as these students were the best and the brightest students from countries all over the world and of all the recipients to give the lecture, they had requested you! There have been recipients before you that had gone on to win Nobel Peace Prizes but they had specifically requested you. And Jungkook was so proud of you.

“Are you okay, little mouse? You seem a little quiet tonight”. Jungkook asked, genuine concern apparent on his face.

“I’m just thinking bunny boy.”

“About me?” He winked at you, almost cartoonishly.

“Bunny boy, how can you cross my mind if you never leave it” you winked back at him with the same playfully cartoonish obnoxiousness.

“Ooh that’s going on my list”

For the past 5 years of your relationship Jungkook has been keeping a list of things you say to him that makes him smile. This list has always confused you cause it would always be the silliest stuff. Once, when he was sleeping, you went and snooped through his notes app just to see this list and you couldn’t believe it. You were expecting the most romantic phrases or compliments that fluffed his ego but instead, the top three (out of four thousand!) were:

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home”

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too”

You woke him up immediately to ask about it. But his only defence was they were phrases you said that make him smile. You’re understanding of his list was ‘irrelevant’ to him.

God, you loved him.

“You’re so silly. But seriously Kookie; don’t worry, I’m good. Plus, you’re the one who’s been talking my ear off all night. I’m surprised you’ve even noticed me being quite” You quipped playfully, taking a sip of your wine.

“Ooh, someone’s feisty tonight. I forgot what red wine does to you” He quipped back; eyebrows now raised highlighting the metal bar that accented it.

God, he was cool.

“How could you forget? The first time we met I was wine drunk”

“Ah yes, how could I forget. You get very mouthy off of red wine. Don’t worry, I know how I can put that mouth to good use”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled at him in a whisper. Eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard your boyfriends lewd comment. Luck for you the other couples around you’re were too infatuated with their partners to even notice you guys.

“Well, while were in pubic, put that mouth to better use and tell me about your day” he said, now leaning back in his chair.

“Well, my day was pretty calm actually. It makes a change. I was walking Ban and bumped into Holly and Yoongi. We were talking about next week and he asked if he could bring a plus one. Wink, wink”

“A plus one! Is Yoongi dating?! In the 12 years I’ve known the guy he has never shown romantic interest in anyone. I can’t even imagine his type. Did he give you any information”?!

“Nah, you know how he is. Yoongi will only let you know what he wants you to know”

“True. What’s going on next week?”

You paused for a second and started chuckling. He was kidding. He had to be.

The smile then fell from your face when he didn’t share in your laughter.

“Oh my god you’re serious? You forgot about my lecture”?!

He gasped and began coughing as the bite of steak he had just put into his mouth had just gone down the wrong pipe.

“Of course not baby, how could I forget something so important to you” he continued to splutter.

You stared back at him. The good mood you had felt a moment ago had completely evaporated. You waited for him to gain his composure so he could explain himself cause boy he had some explaining to do.

“Just for giggles and fun and jokes, what date is your lecture again?”

“The fifteenth” you said, shortly.

His face fell and his eyes stayed stuck on his plate.

“Baby…Please don’t hate me. That’s the night we have the final run through of the soundtrack with the director. I can’t miss that…I’m so s- “

“You’re so sorry. Im sure you are.” You stood up.

You grabbed your purse and you stormed out away from him. You could hear him calling your name but the burn of your throat as you fought back the tears overpowered his calls.

How could he? No, how could you? How could you ever expect anything different. You will always be second to his first love and that was a pain you had to learn to live with.

The moment you left the restaurant and the cold air of the night hit your face you decided to just let the tears fall. You sobbed as you walked further and further away from him.

You heard the rhythmic pounding of laced up docks hitting the pavement behind you.

“Y/N please I’m sorry. Just let me explain…”

“No! There is nothing you could say that would fix this! I have always been there for you! I have supported you from the very beginning! Every piece of music you have ever played for me I have cherished as if it were my own and you used to support me too! At my first presentation you were there. Cheering at the top of your lungs in a silent room. You used to be my number one cheerleader but now when all I ask of you, is to just show up? You can’t do it. And every chance I give you to fix it. You let me down. Jungkook, I need some time away from you. I’m going to be staying with Yoongi for a few days”.

You said nothing more. You spun around and walked the 2 minutes to Yoongi’s apartment. And true to your word you stayed with them till the day before your lecture.

Despite being a creative Jungkook worked like clockwork. Every single day at the same 3 times a day Jungkook would try to call you. The call was always followed by an ‘I love you’ text but today was different. After the second call of the day the text that followed said:

“I know this is such a fucking reach and such a huge ask but would you mind swinging around our apartment today at around 3? Director Anderson would like to speak to you. I know you probably still need your space so I’ll be in the apartment but I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll come out only when you’ve left, I promise. Please come”

He really had some fucking nerve. That ‘please come’ at the end of his text almost sent your blood boiling.

“You should talk to him,” said a familiar voice.

Your turned your whole body around on the sofa so Yoongi could see your eyes roll at his suggestion.

“Yoongs, I feel like it shouldn’t be me your having this conversation with. You should try telling him not to break commitments to people”

“Oh I have! That’s why I’m telling you, you need to speak to him. I know it’s none of my business but I think you guys just need to talk it out. And even if you don’t have anything to say, at least hear the boy out” he finalised before turning on his heels and heading back into his room.

That wasn’t the speech you were expecting but it did calm you down enough to re-read Jungkook’s text. Your boiling rage had now been replaced with intrigue and curiosity. The meeting was requested by the director of the film? This was very unusual. You had heard about the director in passing but you had never spoken directly before. But you had decided that you were going to go. You we determined to look the man who practically stole your boyfriend for years in the face and lecture him about respecting his colleagues work/life balance! Plus it will be good practice for your lecture tomorrow. Two birds, one stone.

It would be an absolute lie to say that you weren’t missing Jungkook. You knew the apartment would smell like him and you hoped you may be able to swipe one of his t-shirts to sleep in before you leave.

You ubered over to your apartment and stood before the oak front door feeling oddly nervous. To took a shaky breath and inserted the passcode: 5318008 (you and Jungkook were children at heart cause you both laughed for hours after agreeing upon the code).

Upon hearing the beeping of the lock to confirm the door was unlocked you pushed it open. You stepped in, removed your shoes and couldn’t help the solemn smile that crept onto your face. Jungkook’s scent hit you as soon as you entered the room.

God, you missed him.

You strode inside and were met with a recognisable figure sitting upright on your sofa. His back stood tall and his hair was a mousy brown colour. It was so bizarre seeing him here. There was an uncanny feeling, seeing this man you knew but had never met sat in your living room.

He must have felt you staring at him because his head soon whipped around.

“Y/N. So nice to finally meet you.” He stood up and walked over to you shoving his hand out towards you. You shook it hesitantly. His hands were cold and clammy but his eyes were warm. He was tall and chubby but he wasn’t foreboding, in fact he seemed rather friendly Damnit. You wanted him to be an asshole, it would have made telling him what was on your mind so much easier.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson” you said as coldly as you could muster.

“Mr Anderson is so formal, just call me James. Although its strange. We’re meeting for the first time but it feels as if I have already met you” His German accent becoming more apparent as he spoke.

“And why is that?”

“Ah, that is why I asked Jungkook to invite you over. Although it does feel strange extending you an invitation to your home” he chuckled to himself.

He invited you to sit down on the couch, it was only then that you noticed a laptop connected to your TV.

“What’s all this?” you asked. Genuinely curious.

“I have a little something for you to watch. It may make explaining why I asked you hear a little more apparent. Please, have a seat my dear” he guided you to the sofa as you plopped yourself down. Eyes glued to the screen.

You anticipated what would happen next when a familiar tune began to play. You knew it was Jungkook’s composition as soon as you heard it. Suddenly an animated mouse popped up on the screen. She was in the wings of a stage, obviously nervous but she strolled out into the spotlight in front of a stoic audience of other animals. Just as she was about to speak there was suddenly a loud whooping from the crowd that interrupted the slow score. It was a bunny. A bunny with banners and whistles and confetti and he was cheering for her. The others in the audience told him to be quite but he exclaimed ‘That’s my girlfriend’ still as proud as can be.

The trailer played on and you slowly started to get it. It was you. This little mouse was you. Tears welled up in your eyes as yours and Jungkook’s entire relationship began to play in front of you. All your highs and your lows. It was beautiful and the accompaniment of his music made the tears pour from your eyes until it was over.

You turned back to James and attempted to speak but only blubbers could come out.

“Let me explain Y/N. When Jungkook and Namjoon came out to LA to play some stuff for the studio the only thing the boy would speak about, other than music, was you my dear. Jungkook and I sat for hours speaking about you. He told these elaborate stories about how you met, who you are and about the adventures you got into together. It was indeed very fascinating to me, you almost seemed like a heroine in his very own story. He bragged about your achievements almost as if they were his own. According to him, you are the smartest woman on the planet my dear and he would not be told otherwise. Oh, congratulations on the achievement of the decade award! And the youngest recipient at that? Incredible work my dear, just incredible. Jungkook went into great detail about what a huge deal that was. Needless to say the day after the networking event I went home and began writing the script for ‘Mouse & Bunny – Mind & Music’. I had just never seen someone so passionate about another person. His passion for you far outweighs his passion for his craft, that much was apparent, it was awe inspiring and I had to bring It to the screen. I think that is why Jungkook fought so hard to be the lead composer for the soundtrack. He wanted to intertwine the two loves of his life”.

You sat there in complete shock for a moment before jumping into James’s arms and engulfed him into a hug. His moustache tickled your shoulder as he chuckled and said he was happy to have cleared things up. As he packed up his laptop, he was asking you so many questions, probably attempting to confirm the validity of Jungkook’s stories:

“Did you really fight a microwave”

“I most certainly did”

“Did you really use protein powder as flour for a cake?”

“I most certainly did”

“Did you really not know the earth went around the sun?”

“That son of a-… no comment”

He snorted as he packed up the last of his things. You walked him to the door but he turned to you before saying his final goodbyes.

“Y/N, it seems wrong for me to give the final approval for the soundtrack. I’ve heard it and I know it’s the most beautiful accompaniment to the film but it seems only fitting that the muse gets to give the final say so. Take the afternoon to listen to it and pass your notes to Jungkook. If you like it, I’ll approve it. So there should be no need for my originally planned final listen tomorrow. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to attend something much more important tomorrow anyway” He winked at you as he closed your door.

You didn’t even wait for the door to fully shut before you were sprinting to your shared bedroom.

The pitter patter of your bare feet slapping the wood floor could almost not be heard over the beating of your heart. You bust open the door to see the love of your live leaning over his piano.

You must have given him such a fright as his big boba eyes were the first to greet you.

“Y/N I-“

You crashed your lips onto his, completely cutting him off.

“I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook laughs, standing up beside you.

“No little mouse, why do you say that” he said with a soft smile while he caressed your tear-stained face.

“I don’t know why I didn’t just ask! I’m so- “

“Even if you asked, I probably wouldn’t have told you. I wanted things to be a surprise. But baby, first I needed to apologise, like really apologise”

“You have nothing to be sorry for”

“Yes, I do. Ever since I met you, you brought light into my world. I wanted to express to you my love in the best way I knew how and this project, to me, was the best way for me to put into the world how I felt about you. But I was selfish, I took my expression of love and put it above all the things I knew you had work so hard to achieve. In a way, I put my love above yours and I will forever be sorry and I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I love you Y/N L/N”

You reward his confession with another kiss, pulling him into your arms soon after.

you sighed, almost longingly. “Whatever shall I do with my bunny boy?”

“Whatever shall I do with my little mouse?” Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear, drawing soothing circles on your hip.

He gently placed you down against your mattress. You clung to him and giggled

You stay quiet, appreciating the comfort of Jungkook’s presence.

God, he smelled good.

“Okay,” he purrs, caressing your hip as he repositioned himself more securely. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh? A week away? It felt more like a lifetime” You nodded in response. Terrified that if you spoke, your voice would fail you.

Jungkook shifted, the hand that was previously on your hip swiftly fell over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my smart girl?” he hums as his hand slipped between your thighs. “My smart, pretty, intimidating girl?”

Your eyes flutter closed and you revel in the feeling of him running his fingers over the front of your panties. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure.

“Ah,” you hissed.

“Hmm?” he says, mouthing against the crook of your neck. His mouth feels so warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “My smart girl doesn’t have anything smart to say?”

“N-No,” you tried to scoff back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands were getting braver now as he slipped his hand beneath your waistband, and touched your wet heat head on. “Baby.”

Jungkook chuckled at your immediate submission for his touch and took the opportunity to connect his mouth back you yours. You whimpered in surprise, legs trembling as he gets to work circling your hardening bud. Your thighs are squirming, clenching around his hand every few moments.

You bit down a whine. “I was just…” you trailed off as he teased his index and middle fingers against your opening.

“Just what baby? Just thinking?” he said as he finally pushed himself off of you and propped himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze became a familiar dark. He moved at a godlike speed as he snatched his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs.

Jungkook pulled away from you and rolled his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins pulling off his shirt. You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him.

He threw his shirt off to the side of the bed, his sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and crawled down his chest were wonderfully free now. “My eyes are up here, little mouse” he said and your eyes immediately shot back up to meet his gaze. He leaned towards you, muscled arms coming to cage you in against the headboard.

“No one is looking at your eyes bunny boy” you attempted to quip back. Completely failing to mask the tremor in your voice. Jungkook always had a way of making you feel powerless under his gaze when he was on top of you like this.

His hand grabbed beneath your knee and yanked you unforgivingly until you were slumped down onto your back with a squeak. You settled with his knee pressed directly against your core. Jungkook stayed towering over you.

He placed his hand gently around the base of your neck as he leaned in to properly grind his thigh into you. “Is that right? No one’s looking at my eyes, huh?” he murmured darkly, thumb pressing a little harder into the side of your neck. You sobbed, soaked panties rubbing roughly against his leg.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you interrupted, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook pursed his lips together in thought.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “Not too sure yet.”

You whined. “Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckled, running his hand up your waist and taking your dress with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouthed at your neck. “Cute,” he cooed. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You trembled, chest heaving into him as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gulped. “You just do it better.” Jungkook followed your admission with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

You mewled in response, determined not to give him the satisfaction of answering his question. Cause you both new the answer was yes. He made you cum so much better than you could.

“Remove your clothes for me...” he whispered gruffly yet sweet as he pulled himself from you.

You hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes you caught Jungkook’s mouth falling open in awe at the semi-nude sight of you before him. After finally removing your bra and panties, you threw them to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you observed how he licked his lips shamelessly as he took in the view of your beautifully perky nipples that drove him absolutely insane. You looked into his deep eyes, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from palming his cock over the confinements of his pants – watching you get worked up just for him.

“Are we that type of couple, Jungkook?” you whispered his name sweetly as you slowly climb on top of him. You straddled him, pushing your breasts flush against his chest.

“Which type are you referring to?” he murmured back as his hand moved back to between your thighs – feeling the damp patch of your essence now overflowing. You felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.

“The ones who have an argument, then have angry make up sex?” you giggled as you began pressing soft, delicate kisses along his neck. Jungkook’s eyes shut tightly as he felt your teeth nip at him – causing a breath of air to leave his lungs while you began sucking on his skin – leaving your mark on him. The next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled your mouth away from his neck and flipped you over. He was now hovering over you and began continuing on you what you had started on him

“Jungkook...” you let his name occupy your mouth and your thoughts as he suckled on your skin – alternating between kissing you, biting you and dragging his teeth further south to your boobs.

“Let us see how much of a good girl you can be for me...” you suddenly felt his breath dangerously close to the mound between your legs, before his hands began kneading and gripping at your ass-cheeks. Jungkook moved his face right into you – just shy of his nose touching your folds from behind as he took in your sweet scent. He wanted to devour you whole – but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to hear you beg and plead for your own pleasure and release. You trembled at the contact of his index finger running along your slippery lips, feeling it hastily stroke your bud before he pulled it back down again – repeating the same action over and over.

Jungkook smirked at the noises coming from you; whimpers of frustration, want and need. He knew you were like putty in his hands with the way your lewd wetness heavily coated his finger; and he would have wanted it no other way.

“Please Jungkook...please stop teasing me – I need you so fucking badly I – “you rolled your head to the opposite side – placing your blazing cheek against the pillow in an attempt to extinguish the apparent fire that was burning your entire face. You knew he was making you wait for it – and you both simultaneously loved and hated it in a hundred different ways.

You breathed a sigh of relief, along with moans of satisfaction as his tongue continued to explore every inch of you. The scandalous sounds from his tongue and his lips filled the room as he continued to consume you.

“I’m so close Jungkook – fuck...” you moaned a string of further curses as he sped up his movements – his finger now wiggling heavily over your clit as his tongue probed you even deeper than before.

“Are you really?” he hummed, slowing his pace as you whined in response. “Hmm...I can’t have you coming undone on me just yet little mouse...where’s the fun in that? Plus, I had to wait a whole week for you to come back. Do you think I would let you cum so quickly?” he grinned coyly as he moved away from you – licking the remainder of you off his lips as you damn near cried out in anger at being denied your orgasm when it was seconds away.

God, he’s such an asshole.

“You can cry and whine all you want...but you’re not getting anything unless I think you deserve it; do you understand me, baby?” he cooed with the heaviest form of sarcasm you had ever heard as he began coating his erection with your wetness – giving himself a few strokes as he smirked and watched you squirm in defeat underneath him. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, before turning onto your stomach as fast as you could to avoid his arrogant gaze.

As you laid faced away from him, all you could feel was the thick width of his cock resting between your cheeks as Jungkook took it upon himself to slowly grind himself into you – giving him the minimal amount of pleasure and you the maximum amount of excruciating frustration.

“Yes! I understand...please...I’ll do anything, please!” you shamelessly pleaded – hearing the desperation in your own voice as you moved your ass backwards into him. Jungkook chuckled before he began sprinkling light kisses the whole way up your spine – the fleeting feeling of his lips leaving damp patches on your skin being enough to make it feel like he was burning you with desire for more of him.

“Good girl” Jungkook praised you – letting you feel the tip of his cock resting just on top your drenched entrance. And – without warning, he quickly eased himself in as far as he could go; hearing you let out breathy moans and whimpers as he pressed deeper.

“Louder” he commanded as he leaned back – looking down to view his member leave your tight walls – much to both of your displeasures. “I want the entire world to know who’s fucking your pussy like this right now” he slammed back inside you, feeling your slickness engulf him as your screams filled the room.

“That’s it Y/N, that’s my good girl” Jungook growled as he began pounding you into you at an unforgiving pace. You cried and sobbed feeling his cock reach deeper inside you with each time his skin smacked against yours. Jungkook relished in the look of your ass every time it bounced off his lower abdomen as he continued pummelling into you mercilessly – when he saw your hand reach back to try and hold his. Knowing that you needed to feel the security of his grasp, Jungkook leaned over your back and laced his fingers with yours – giving you fast, deep strokes of his cock while you felt it slam against your precious nerves inside you. Jungkook knew you were already on the verge of letting go from the way your voice got louder and higher – along with your walls constricting around his member so tightly that he had to almost hold his breath to not finish before you.

“Cum for me – you earned it sweetheart, let go and let me hear your beautiful voice” he cooed into your ear. And, like his words were the only thing that could set you free, you came hard around him while you closed your eyes tight as you felt your orgasm pour out of you. Jungkook coaxed you through your cries of ecstasy as he slowed his thrusts down – still keeping their depth while his groans harmonised with your own voice in the wake of your pleasure. And, just as quickly as it came, your high left your body – leaving you slumped face down into the pillow with no will to do much else other than breathe. You felt Jungkook slowly slide out of you – feeling the emptiness he left behind while he began pulling you up and back into his chest, his hands then roaming over every inch of your skin he could find.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he purred, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and letting you know that he was still standing to attention with the way his member pressed into your ass. You let out an airy chuckle, still not able to maintain a coherent train of thought.

“Mmhm” you hummed, reaching behind you to let your hand rest on the back of his neck, letting your fingers get lost in his hair as Jungkook dotted your neck with kisses once more.

“I can’t get enough of you – no matter how much you give me, no matter how much I take...” he murmured on top of your skin, making you shiver from head to toe and smile from ear to ear.

“What are you waiting for then, bunny boy?” you replied, turning around to him and coming face to face with his dark hooded eyes. “I want you to take more...take me, Jungkook” you mewled as Jungkook’s hands began caressing all his favourite parts of you – your hips and the tops of your thighs included.

You swapped positions and you positioned yourself on top him. As you did, Jungkook quickly pulled his legs underneath your bottom before crossing them below you, while you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist so that you were both in a sort of Lotus Flower position. You looked down, seeing his head perfectly level with your tits as he began kissing and nipping at your hardened nipples – making you reel from the sensitive sensation that coursed through you. You observed his hand as it slipped underneath you – grabbing a hold of his pulsating member and angling it right before your welcoming entrance once again.

“Baby...aren’t you forgetting something?” you questioned immediately in reference to the fact that he was about to enter you whilst you both found yourself in the most romantic baby-making position known to man. Jungkook shook his head as he looked up into your eyes, his stare completely melting you from the inside out.

“I want to feel you when I cum inside you...I want to make you mine in every way possible...will you let me?” his husky voice travelled to every single part of your soul as you let your mouth hang agape.

“But – what if...you know?” you replied, wondering how he felt about the most obvious thing that could happen from not using protection.

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N” he whispered softly, feeling himself press against your small opening as the tip of his cock became engulfed by your slick tightness. “’If it happens, it happens. I would want no other woman to mother my children” you both let out an intense moan in turn as he pushed his way inside you. When Jungkook thought about you carrying his first child and bringing the product of your love into the world; with him becoming a father and you becoming a mother, it filled him with delicate feelings of paternal happiness he knew he could never feel with anyone else but you.

You bit your lip hard as you rolled your hips at a rhythmical pace into his – feeling every inch of him curving inside you. Jungkook placed one hand below your bottom, while cradling your back with his free arm as a means to let you set the pace of your love making, but still letting him have full control over your every movement. You felt wave after wave of pleasure strike you as your clit moved flush against Jungkook’s body that was tight against yours; and your moans continued to spill from your lips as he looked up into your face – his eyes full of life and love as he seemingly peered right into your soul. In contrast to Jungkook’s way of asserting himself over you just moments ago, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he let his mouth hang open – panting and groaning at the feeling of pleasure from being inside you and so close to you.

“I love you...so much, Jungkook” you managed to speak – feeling your body almost grow limp from having little to no energy left as you felt your sweat drip down your temples. Sensing your exhaustion, Jungkook helped you lay down on your back to the bed – keeping himself still lodged inside you as he rested himself between your legs. His thrusts were slow, deep and meaningful as he pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his – pinning them to the bed while he felt your pulse rocket as he pushed you once again to your second orgasm of the evening. You felt like the entire world was spinning as you attempted to moan and writhe in fulfilment – but unfortunately, no sound left your mouth as you produced a silent cry in the wake of Jungkook’s pleasure-filled stokes that reached deeper and deeper within you.

“And I... I love you Y/N” Jungkook’s lips found yours for the millionth time as he felt himself twitch inside of you – his entire seed mixing with your juices as he came deep within you. He tensed every single one of his muscles, letting you swallow each of his moans as he slowed down gently.

“I’m so happy that you’re mine...” he almost whimpered as his movements ceased – before letting himself collapse on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you raised your arms up and over his back to hug him even closer to you.

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine, too” you kissed the top of his head – still feeling his cock buried inside of you as you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Jungkook raised his head a fraction to look at you – his appearance both thoughtful and endearing as he held on to you. “I really am sorry Y/N. I never want you to feel like your aren’t a priority to me” he blinked gently as you continued to listen to his heartfelt, post love making thoughts.

“I know” you replied quietly, tracing the muscles along his back with your fingers. “And I’m sorry too. I guess we both just need to communicate a little better”.

“My Y/N – You are my world. You – you are my everything. I used to not understand what people meant when they said that to someone they loved, because before you – I thought music was my only love. But every day I spend with you, you give me a hundred more reasons to adore you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that.”

You felt yourself well up at his words of endearment. He really was your world and you now knew for a fact that you were his too.

“Ooh, I forgot to say” you interrupted yours and Jungkook post love making silence.

“James said I could approve the soundtrack for our film”

Jungkook smiled to himself upon hearing you refer to it as your film.

“If that’s what James said, who am I to undermine the director.” He declared.

“The songs are on my phone in the Media Folder but im gonna hop in the shower while you listen. Cause it will break my heart if you don’t like them” he chuckled, half joking half serious.

“I know im going to love them babe. But you go and take your shower, I’ll be right here when you come out”.

He left with a smile.

You scrolled through his phone to find the music files and tears began to fill your eyes once again as you read the tracklist:

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home”

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too”

And the list went on. It was his list. His list of your phrases that made him smile. Before you could even finish reading the tracklist, you ran to the shower you embrace your bunny boy and show him for a second round how much you loved him.

Although, if you had taken just a few moments to read the tracklist, Jungkook is sure you would have loved the last song on the soundtrack. It was the only title that wasn’t you contribution, it was his:

12. “I hope she’ll marry me”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope ya'll enjoyed it! My requests are open, feel free to send em across :)

#jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook #bts fanfic #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fic #jeon jeongguk fic #jeongguk x reader #bts jeongkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fanfic #jungkook enemies to lovers au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

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deadsetobsessions · 17 days

Text

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

TOO MANY BEDS

DCXDP, GEN

——

The Wayne foundation was a giant in the corporate world. What made it impressive was that their company was based in Gotham where, despite or perhaps in spite of the frequent rogue attacks and general hostile environment, the Waynes managed to run a tight and efficient ship. Their operations run extremely smoothly.

However, that was not to say there were no mistakes. There were. Wayne Enterprises usually had enough-more than enough- budget to cover such mistakes.

The employees, after all, were humans (though their new CEO, Timothy Drake, might have been a vampire considering how pale he was) and were prone to make mistakes.

Thus, due to the nature of human mistakes, the visiting senior class of Amity Park’s Casper High found themselves in a rather baffling situation.

“Well, we can’t say there’s not enough beds.” Their chaperone-teacher, Mr. Lancer rubbed the back of his bald head.

Before them laid not ten, not twenty, but fifty five twin beds arranged in neat rows in Gotham Academy’s auditorium.

“What is this, the military?” Their other chaperone-teacher, Mr. Falluca, grumbled.

“It’s not like we haven’t slept in worse places.” Sam grimaced. The class collective shuddered as they remembered the junior camping trip from hell.

“Ugh, my hair is going to get frizzy if we sleep here.” Paulina muttered.

“I thought we were getting called here for cheer or something.” Star frowned. Her boyfriend of four years, Kwan, slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to comfort her.

The doors open as a harried Wayne Industries employee ran in.

“I am so, so sorry! This isn’t where we were supposed to have you stay but WE mistook the donation request and sent in beds instead of paying for hotel rooms!” They blurted out, looking panicked. “Your hosting class - we’ll have you meet them outside, maybe?”

“It’s fine, right guys?” Danny spoke up, arms crossed. Tucker hummed at his side, tapping quickly at his

“Yeah, whatever Fentina says,” Dash grumbled. After the reveal of Danny’s identity as Phantom, his hostility and bullying died a quick death. Though, Dash kept the nicknames as they were a hard habit to kick and there weren’t any malicious intent behind it. In fact, Dash quickly became one of Danny’s biggest supporters, hidden behind scowls and general posturing.

“We could just meet in here. Get rid of the bedframes and just have a giant sleepover while you guys get everything sorted out.” Valerie volunteered.

“That’s a great idea!”

The class, coordinated from years of ghost attacks, quickly assembled the giant floor mattress. Gotham Academy’s senior class filed in ten minutes later, gaping at the giant floor mattress(es) before whooping and joining Casper High’s seniors in tumbling around.

——

Danny threw an empty plastic water bottle at Kwan’s head.

“Hey! No PDA on the giant mattress!”

“Yeah, get that love shit out of here!” Someone else hollered.

“There might technically be only one bed, now, but it’s still multiple mattresses!” Stephanie Brown, one of Gotham Academy’s seniors heckled.

“Hey, Danny, it’s your turn for truth or dare!” Tim said.

“Truth.” Danny returned.

“Lameeee.”

“C’mon Fenturd, too chicken to do dare?”

“Danny, that’s so boring,” Sam smirked.

Danny scowled. “Hey, whose side are you on?”

Sam and Tucker grinned and said in unison, “The winning side, duh.”

Tim cut in. “So, what’s the worst thing that’s happened to you?”

Danny groaned. “Camping trip, no contest.”

“Camping trip?”

——

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #Stephanie Brown #gotham academy #dc x dp #Casper high #star #kwan #mr. lancer #Mr. Falluca #Paulina #star and kwan’s relationship #camping trip from hell

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vampireimiko · 10 months

Note

pregnant reader x miguel o’hara: gabis first parent teacher conference and they’ve gotta explain why she keeps saying her dads gonna whoop the kids ass whenever they piss her off

parent teacher conference

warnings, none at all !! just like 1 cuss word or something 💀

note, THANK YEW FOR REQUESTING VENUS 🫶🏾🫶🏾, this is the longest oneshot ive ever made😭 anyway i hope you all enjoy !!

It's Parent Teacher Conference night, and Miguel finds himself sitting near the back of the auditorium to keep an eye on the meeting. There seems to be a bit of arguing between teachers and parents about the workload being too much for some students, when he senses a presence next to him and looks up to see that you, his wife, sits to his left, who is visibly pregnant and with her own plate filled with food.

"Oh my god- Miguel! This food is so good, do you want some?" You said, mouth full of a bit of everything on your plate. Miguel chuckled at your antics and shook his head no.

"As entertaining as this is" He says pointing towards the arguments in front of him, "I'm just ready to have our 1 on 1 with Gabriella's teacher."

You agreed with him, as you two had been sitting here for quite some time. But just like clockwork, Gabriella's teacher, Ms. Rose walked up to you and Miguel letting you know she was ready to have your conference.

Ms. Rose greeted you both with a warm smile, her eyes briefly glancing at your visibly pregnant belly before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you both for being here tonight! I appreciate your dedication to Gabriella's education."

You exchanged a nod and a smile, grateful for the teacher's acknowledgment. Miguel stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine interest. "We're looking forward to hearing about Gabriella's progress and any areas where we can support her better."

"Of course! Please if you could follow me to my classroom and we can get straight into discussing." With that being said, you and Miguel get up from the seats with him having to help you. It was getting hard for you stand up by yourself and you absolutely could not wait to have this baby out of you. Anyway enough of that, you and Miguel make your way too the classroom following behind Ms. Rose.

She opens the door and encourages you two to sit wherever. As you settled into the seats, she began sharing Gabriella's achievements and areas for improvement, providing a comprehensive overview of her academic journey.

The both of you listened to her intently, focusing on what Gabriella needed a bit more help on. You and Miguel took turns asking questions and clarification's on certain things. You could tell Ms. Rose genuinely cared about her students, taking the time to learn they're strengths and challenges.

"Now despite Gabriella being absolutely wonderful, there is one more thing I'd like to address." Ms Rose said switching her tone to a more serious one. You and Miguel looked at one another then back at her.

"Yes?"

"I've been overhearing Gabriella tell people that Mr. O'Hara here would come up to the school and in her words, 'whoop anybody who pisses me off'."

The both of your eyes widened. Miguel knew he said that, you know he said that, hell even the baby inside of you knew he said it! Not only did be say that, but he meant it aswell. Nobody is messing with his babygirl.

"Miguel!" You slapped his shoulder, putting on a serious front up in front of Ms. Rose, knowing damn well you wanted so badly to burst out laughing.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Ms. Rose observed the exchange between you, Miguel, and your shared reaction. Your attempt to maintain a serious demeanor in front of her was quickly crumbling as your suppressed laughter threatened to burst forth.

Miguel's face turned a shade of red, realizing the weight of his words and the potential consequences they might have had. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his eyes darting between you, Ms. Rose, and the floor.

"I-I apologize Ms. Rose. That was a misguided attempt at humor. I never intended for her to come to school and say something like that." He said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ms. Rose, her expression a mix of amusement and understanding, nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Miguel. It's essential to address such statements to ensure a safe and inclusive environment for everyone."

You struggled to contain your laughter, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Taking a deep breath, you managed to compose yourself enough to speak without bursting into giggles. "Yes, Ms. Rose, we apologize for any confusion caused. We'll make sure to have a conversation with Gabriella about appropriate language and the importance of respectful interactions."

Ms. Rose's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I understand that children can sometimes pick up on our words and interpret them in unexpected ways. It's important for us as adults to model the behavior we want to see in them."

Fast foward to being done with the conference, you and Miguel were walking too the car. He stopped the both of you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he leans down to your stomach.

"Just to let you know, that same statement in there goes for you too."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 !! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#miguel o'hara x fem!reader #black!reader #x black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x black fem reader #black reader

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sweetiecutie · 8 months

Note

Ok ok listen-

teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶

(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied

A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩

Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.

Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.

Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.

And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.

Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.

Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.

It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off

As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.

Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.

“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.

“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.

You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.

“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.

You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.

“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.

She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”

As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”

And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.

Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.

You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.

But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3

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hyhkai · 2 months

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k.taehyun — dangerous woman!

[ 📚 ] after accidentally eavesdropping taehyun talking with his friends, you've got a question unanswered, a question which is straight up hilarious because it shouldn't be asked in the first place.

content : plot sprinkles, dom!reader sub!tyun, taehyun goes around calling the reader his wife/girlfriend, 'taehyun likes smart girls' agenda, public (in the empty auditorium), blowjob, degradation (m. rec.), making tyun swallow his own cum hah

a/n ; NEEDS TO BE EDITED! idk why I named it dangerous woman for angie and smiles txt birthday event + technically written off of my this thought but it doesn't appear in the limelight as brightly. though i still abide by it and always will. i have no clue how auditoriums look in your guys' vision but 🙏

"what're you even trying to do? makeout with me?" he asked as you pulled him aside from the piled hallway and led him to the top floor.

"trust me," you looked back at him, agony filled eyes. "kissing you is the last mistake I want to make, and I make a lot of mistakes."

he chuckled, god, he chuckled. he has some guts. "if you've started to make mistakes, then I'm a failure, noona."

he's always been like this. you wondered if he had some borderline obsession with you. which, now that you've found out the shit he's been going around blabbering — he definitely is obsessed with you.

almost throwing the two of you into the auditorium when you spotted a council member; you shut the door behind yourself as you stared at him, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. "I'm actually starting to think you want to kiss me. it could've been in the cafeteria, no? why hide like we're middle schoolers?"

you shook your head no. "i already told you, I'd never kiss a dumb dog like you."

"then what are we here for?"

"why are you telling your friends I'm your girlfriend?"

silence. for about a minute. or two.

"i didn't." he said, turning back and walking to one of the chairs, sitting on the one at the corner. he's seriously planning to pretend, that he didn't go around saying you both fuck everyday.

"I don't like liars." you mumbled, walking behind him and letting yourself fall onto the chair right beside him, knees buckling. "what kind of a lie is this? we both are stuck in a loop of arguments and flirting. what makes you want to go around saying I'm your girlfriend?"

"I felt like it." he said dryly, eyes cast down at his fingers as they fidgeted.

"felt like it? you—" you closed your eyes in annoyance, nostrils flaring as your neck turned to look at him. "you felt like telling everyone that I'm your girlfriend? me of all people?" you hissed, he's such a bitch. fucking asshole.

it takes the average human being to start dating after 1-3 months of knowing each other, but it took taehyun one month to walk you down the aisle in his puerile dreams.

"well, why not you?" he asked, looking down at your fingers that were sprinkled with ink. you'd never dated any of the guys around here — because they're such bitches. what about the one in front of you? very evident.

"because I'm never going to really date you!" you almost yelled, lowering your noise when you heard your voice hit the walls of the empty auditorium.

"okay whatever, what're you gonna do about it?" he huffed out, his arms escaping the straps of his backpack.

motherfucker.

you looked away, this boy was making you so demented. you wished you were corrosive and could just touch him and destroy his entire existence in the moment.

and that's when it hit you. your touch... could destroy him. hell, it could probably make him dumb, to say the very least. you looked back to see taehyun, sitting there, staring at you with big big eyes, looking like he's going to swallow you whole.

"what?" you tore the silence apart, taehyun fluttering his eyelashes as he eyed you. the boy is still checking you out. "have some goddamn decency."

"I can't." he said, leaning in, leaning in close so close you wanted to flick his forehead and slap him across the face. he's always been like this for you since the day you put him in his place. he's been like a damn dog, like he wanted to be walked around by you since that day.

"then learn how to!"

"teach me, noona."

and so you did. so you did. and he's going to learn. he's going to learn to never annoy you again.

"noona—"

his eyes widened when your hand went straight for his crotch. fuck. you placed your hand on his cock, in the corner of the auditorium, after school hours.

"shut up. this is what you wanted, didn't you? you're filthy." and he, an exuberant kitten had turned into a lethargic dog. a dumb dog. "you're welcome for this. you're welcome."

"you— you-. what are you even thinking?" he asked, eyes wide as he leaned back, growing motionless. well, one thing was definitely in motion.

"shut the fuck up." you rubbed the tent in his pants as it eventually grew — still no consent of his, but his expression and activities history doesn't seem to be convincing you that he'll say no. you grabbed his face, making him look at you after his eyes had set down onto your hand on his dick. "tell me, taehyun. do you think from your dick or something?"

"y-you can't ask a question like— that.. h-hah." he groaned, a pretend exasperated tone when he was clearly enjoying this. he looked... desperate. it was scaring and making you want to fuck him at the same time. "please, noona."

"please what? use your words, bitch." you said, finger twirling the zipper of jeans, or more like a synonym for a cock cage.

"what're you gonna do?" he asked, eyes shooting around the hall as his knees buckled up, trying to squirm your hand away. this felt so emasculating to him — that you just basically palmed his dick from above the denim.

you were everything he wasn't — smart, perfect and untainted. but you were everything he wanted.

"maybe suck your dick," you said and the statement was definitely sent as an electric signal to his dick and his brain. "give you a reason to go around saying absolute bullshit, hm?" and he closed his eyes shut. his head fell back on the back rest as you unzipped his jeans, letting out a sadistic chuckle. "aw, is the delusion wearing off?" placing a hand under his chin and tilting his head to your side. oh lord, he was blushing. his ears were heating up and his cheeks went pink. "n-not bullshit.. not—"

"shut up." you attempted at a slap but only smacked his jaw, making his head turn away. lightly squeezed to his dick through the Calvin Klein and he whimpered. rubbing the tip with your nails.

if someone asked you if your panties were dry you'd have to deny it. his condition only got more tortured and jittery, you were chuckling like watching a stand-up comedy. you got up from the seat, kneeling in front of him. "h-hah, noona. shit— pl-please."

a malevolent expression, you took his dick out, cockhead lathered in precum — manwhore !

"you like this?" you asked, placing your hand in front of his mouth. "spit, whore." and he did, so fast like he was already preparing to, preparing to be sucked and jerked off.

"mmm, noona, i— h-hah." taehyun scrunched his knees together when your hand twisted at the tip, going down on his dick and his eyes shot open. "i l-love- this."

"of course you do, slut." you mumbled, licking the underpart of his tip, looking up at him as his hands reached to the back of your head to push you down on it unprovoked. he has the audacity to try to fuck your mouth. but no, you slapped his hand away. "behind your back."

he arched his back in sole pleasure, hands behind him now, he let out short, rapid pants. you opened your mouth wide, making him assume you'll finally take his dick, only to start pumping his dick rapidly.

"shit— shit, shit. noona no—"

"take it." you cut him off, using both hands, twisting. your lips set on the edge of his tip, rubbing against it. his brain was vacuous; and it got worse when you held the base of his dick and swallowed him whole.

"oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck." he whispered as you glide your hand up his hoodie, staying at his abs making him suck his stomach in. shook your head, the friction too much for him to bear. "noona, noona please."

pulling away, strings of saliva connecting you to his dick as his head flung back, closing his eyes shut when your nails slid up and down.

"keep it down, my god. the president might just hear you, would you want to be seen getting your cock sucked by me?"

his nails of each hand were digging into each other, his jaw clenching. "it— it'll make for a good s-sight."

"'m so close, pleasepleaseplease." he groaned as you completely stopped even the slightest of fuckery he was receiving from his imaginative slut. "no!"

you giggled at the sight — brain-dead taehyun, with his hands behind his back that were desperate to come forward and get him to cum, his embarrassing, dumbfounded state. a slap to his dick and he thrust into the air.

he could fuck any object that moves right now.

"you just love having your cock shoved down throats, don't you?"

hollowing your cheeks around him, the pleasure too much for him to bear. his hands escaped from behind and almost reached for your head but stopped mid-way, balling into a fist as his brain began jarring.

"noona please please please I'm gonna—" and before he could even warn you, prevent your annoyance and the malice you might have, he spilled into your mouth. and to his surprise, you kept his tip in your mouth, tasting him.

"noona?"

a pretend swallow that made his brain cloudy, did you just swallow his cum?

you got up, his eyes tracking up as you leaned down and pulled him by the collar of his hoodie, clashing your lips onto his and his mind skipped a function or two. you seeped his cum into his mouth, wiping your hands on his chest and he did not give the reaction you expected, the reaction you wanted him to give you — instead, to your surprise, he kissed back, his hand slipping up to catch yours. he didn't expect this at all but the whore didn't give a fuck. you pulled away, displeased that he wasn't mad you just made him eat his own cum.

"you ain't my boyfriend." you hissed, picking your backpack up.

and he was all gone to hell, no place for him in heaven, staring at the high ceiling, panting, beatific.

are they dating? no. do they both have mutual thoughts of fucking? absolutely.

I wrote this in like one hour forgive me

#sub!idol #txt smut #taehyun smut #txt x reader #sub!taehyun #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #sub!txt #taehyun x reader #taehyun hard thoughts

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hella1975 · 8 months

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honestly seeing you mention sikh society is so funny bc sikh people LOVE showing their culture! i work with a lot of sikh men and they're always bringing food into work and just love being asked culture. im chinese and they're always asking questions as well- cultural exchange is such a personal thing and imo one of the easiest ways to build a relationship

literally!!!!!! and your last comment is so important bc the reason i made that post is bc i actually found myself guilty of the tiktok mindset WITH one of the chefs at work. he's spanish and has quite a heavy accent and for a long time i really dithered on asking him where he was from (bc all i knew from his accent was that it was european which. doesnt really help) and in my head i was doing it bc i didnt want to 'other' him, but in the end my mum actually said to me that being clearly uncertain around him and NOT addressing the fact we clearly come from different places was actually making things worse, and i was so so pissed off at myself bc she was right. and you know what? i asked him not long ago in the end where he was from, and he lit up. we went back and forth about the spanish and the english and we ribbed each other but it felt like the weird tension existing in all our interactions up until that point had lifted and now he makes a point to come over and chat to me at work. and that tension wasn't there bc i DISLIKED his potential culture or felt actually UNCOMFORTABLE around him, it existed because i demonised my own curiosity and genuine desire to know about him as a person and let myself be a little freak about it instead. like????? it's so fucked up that this is becoming such a normalised thing!!!!

#re ur ask: i have a lot love for the sikh society at my uni bc of what i said on that post like ive only been to a couple of the events #and one really notable time there was one happening for diwali and there was about 200 people in an auditorium for it #and i was the ONLY white person there. and i felt really... intimidated? out of place? just generally like i was overstepping #and that they wouldnt want me there. but the MOMENT it broke off into conversation and socialising and people realised i didnt know much #about the religion i had SO many people eager to tell me all about it and it was just so so genuinely nice and interesting #like you could really feel the love they had for their own culture and being able to witness that and learn about it is not only important #but is just genuinely one of life's little joys. and like you said and i was saying in this response: it made conversation so much easier!#culture is such a fundamental part of a person's identity of COURSE it's going to make interactions open up if you address it #ask

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

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