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thecagedsong · 2 years

Text

Title: Can the Goddess Hear My Heart Over the Bells?

Theme: Bells

Fandom/Character(s): Legend of Zelda; Link/Zelda

Warnings (if applicable): N/A

Word Count: 5,818

@12daysofchristmas

Zelda comes from a long line of priestesses of Hylia, but in modern Hyrule she tries to hide the fact because people would find it embarrassing. Then her cute college classmate comes for the Midwinter worship with his sister, and Zelda still has to perform the bell dance, even with him watching.

~~~~~

“Have a goodnight Zelda! And say hi to Link for me after your test tomorrow!” Mipha cheered for her, touching her arm gently before letting her go. Their paths usually diverged here and Zelda shot her a grateful smile, despite the teasing about Link. The Zora dove headfirst in the water while Zelda got on the bus.

Mipha didn’t have to wait at the bus stop for Zelda, especially since the Zora had difficulties with winter generally, but the girl had insisted. Once Zelda mentioned she didn’t like waiting for the bus alone, Mipha had insisted she wait with Zelda every day after their biology class.

Noticing a couple of people from her school were also on the bus, Zelda waited until they had all gotten off before getting off herself and doubling back to her home. Zelda named another number in the prime number sequence with each step up the ridiculous stairs to her family’s shrine.

At her door, Zelda took off her shoes and knelt before the small goddess statute there.

To the Goddess, I give praise for my family’s joy and safety, and thank her for wisdom and learning I am able to accumulate at university. I am honored by the protection She gives those I love, and ask for power to continue to keep them well. I am honored by the courage She grants me to face the cold winter and daunting university tests. May our blessings continue as we listen to her guidance and hold to our faith. Adimen.

Zelda stood up, stretched, and walked to where Father stirred a large pot of soup.

“Welcome home, Dear,” Dad said, “Destroy another test? Biology was today, right?”

“No more biology for the year,” Zelda said, grabbing a spoon to sample their dinner. “And just Hylian history to finish. Hmmm!” she hummed her delight at the dish and took another spoonful.

“You two turn into barbarians without me here? I set the table and everything, but clearly you’d both rather eat standing over the pot,” a new voice chimed in.

Zelda dropped her spoon in the soup as she spun around. “Mark!” she shrieked jumping forward with her arms out. Her brother awkwardly caught her, but returned her hug. “You weren’t supposed to come home until this weekend!”

“I finished my final essay earlier than expected,” he said, letting her go. She gave him one last squeeze before sitting down at the table.

“So does that mean you’re all done with your degree?” Father asked, bringing the soup to the table.

“So long as I pass everything,” he said. “I’ll know first week of January if I'm going to lose my job offer, die under the mountain of my student loans, and have to sell my kidneys on the black market.”

Zelda snorted, “Like you know how to find the black market.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” Dad assured him.

“Dad, did you know? About Mark coming home early?”

“Not at all, a complete surprise. Good thing last weekend we converted his room back to his bedroom and took out the plasmascreen TV and billards table,” Dad joked.

“You did not,” Mark scoffed, serving everyone. He paused, “You didn’t, right?”

“Of course not,” Zelda said, indignantly, “The billiards table has always been in the garage, your room was my spa room. Ignore the nail polish stain on the pillows.”

“Brat,” he said affectionately.

~~~~

“You don’t have to watch me practice, I know it must be boring,” Zelda said, letting him tie up the traditional headpiece. Impa, her assistant at the shrine, would do it during the actual ceremony.

“You know, I was always jealous of you,” Mark said, flicking a bell hanging from the elaborate crown. “Of the time you got to spend with Mom practicing for this. That you’re the special one in the family.”

“That’s silly, I was the one always jealous of you. You got to read books with Dad while I had to drill the same eight dances over and over again,” Zelda said, looking both of them over in the mirror. Sheika Tears were painted in red down her cheeks, while Hylia’s triforce repeated on her forehead and the headpiece, and the neckline of her white dress. “I had to fight to even be allowed to go to university instead of work at the shrine.”

“And you’ll fight to have a job and be the high priestess. And then you’ll do both amazingly well until you die. You have Hylian History tomorrow, so I know you are completely familiar with the amazing feats of all the Zeldas that have come before you,” Mark said. “Priestesses of Hylia and world-shakers at the same time.”

“Their feats were because they were princesses, no one bothered writing anything about them once they became priestesses,” she said. “It was because they were princesses that they could save the kingdom, unless you’re talking about all those goddess blessings the myths talk about. And I think I would know if I could do magic.”

Mark smiled in the mirror, “But I know my sister, and maybe you aren’t rewinding time or setting fire to Twilight, but you are going to be a Zelda for the history books, just wait.”

“You’re supposed to get less religious as you go away to university,” Zelda pointed out, “Realize the Gerudo lighting was simply channeled electricity, figure out that it’s impossible to resurrect someone from the dead so that they continue to be young and health after 100 years, that sort of thing.”

“Call me a rebel then,” Mark said, “Did that happen to you? Did university convince you our maternal bloodline is simply a bunch of really good story tellers?”

“Well . . .” Zelda shifted in her seat, not sure how to answer. Not sure of the answer. “At the very least, I shouldn’t have to be a priestess if there is no great incarnation of pure evil to vanquish. I should be able to spend all my time studying if I’m not going to be called upon to imprison the incarnation of darkness.”

“Now who’s being silly. You have perfect memory recall and have always grasped academic concepts, and their flaws, immediately,” Mark said. “You’re goddess-blessed with an impossibly big brain, so you have some spare time to practice the midwinter’s dance. But not that much time, ready?”

“Ready,” Zelda said, letting him help her up.

Her every step tinkled with the bells on her costume and from the bells in her hand. Mark seated himself out of the way and turned the lights to the way they would be at the ceremony.

Farore’s wind was the breath in her lungs, feeding the Din’s fire and electricity of her heart and brain, letting her movements be as smooth as Nayru’s water, until time beat against Nayru’s ice with bells. Hylia was the goddess gifted with guarding and wielding the powers of the Three, the one charged with seeing the Three’s creation prosper. By the fourth turn, Zelda let herself feel what it was to by Hylia’s mouthpiece and body.

Embarrassing as it was, Zelda’s faith hadn’t been shaken by her university education at all.

~~~~~~

Zelda finished with her test ridiculously early, there was still half the time left for her classmates to continue their furious scratching. She had filled the essay sections to the brim, then scribbled her conclusion paragraphs on the back of the papers, and had already edited them. But, not wanting to be known as the brainiac like she had been in high school, Zelda waited until she heard at least one other student stand up with their test in hand to do the same.

Of course that one student had to be Link Faron. Zelda really hoped she wasn’t blushing as she made her way down the stairs opposite him. He was Mipha’s childhood friend, and ridiculously attractive. He was shorter than her by an inch, she shouldn’t be this attracted to him, but she was, and,

Oh Hylia, he was waiting for her at the door.

Mipha had had a small crush on him since childhood, but Zelda had been interested since he helped retrieve her favorite pen when it fell during the second week of classes. She had been gone for him since he defended ecological conservation efforts as a decentralized local movement with respectful funding distribution as opposed to an oppressive authoritarian conservation for maximum resource output that was the current majority party favored ideology.

“Hi Link,” she said, her voice a pitch higher than it should be as she closed the door behind them. Zelda cleared her throat, “Hi Link. Was this your last final for the semester?”

It was the last day of finals before winter break, of course it was his last final. But hair escaped his ponytail as he shook his head, framing the most intense blue eyes she had ever seen.

“I have a paper due at midnight,” he said casually, “I’m letting it sit for another couple hours before giving it a last revision and submitting it tonight. Was this your last one?”

“Yep, I’m free as a bird,” Zelda said.

“Cool . . . hey, do you want to grab lun—”

“Yes! I mean, sure,” Zelda said. “Sorry, I’m a little frazzled—from the test! I better have lunch and a small rest before trying to navigate public transit and heading home, haha.”

“Great,” Link said. “Anywhere you want to go to celebrate being done with your first semester of finals?”

“No particular preference, you?”

“No particular preference,” he mirrored her with a smile, but it wasn’t mocking, more like something he just wanted to try saying. “Since one of us has to make a decision, what about the Milk Bar?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said, letting him change direction.

Things got quiet, but Zelda couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t school related, and it felt silly to talk about school related stuff when they were on the cusp of break and this was one of the few times in her life she didn’t want to talk about school or academics.

“So, any plans for the holidays?” Link asked.

Was he casually making conversation not about school, or was he trying to see if she was free to ask her on a date? She wasn’t prepared to be asked on a date! Mipha had a crush on him too, for years longer than Zelda, was she even allowed to say yes? What if he wanted to go out one of the nights she had to perform the ceremony? What if—

NO! Keep it cool. He wasn’t asking her out, he was making polite conversation. Be polite back.

“My brother attends Lorule University,” Zelda said, “He came back early, so we’re going to spend some time together while he’s home as a family. I’m going ice skating with Mipha at some point, but other than that I don’t have any definitive plans. What about you?”

“My dad travels around for the military, so my little sister Aryll is actually coming to visit me here in Castletown for Midwinters,” Link said. “Any recommendations on where to take her? I’ve been buried under school work and haven’t explored too much of the city myself.”

“What does Aryll like?” Zelda asked. “Is she into sculpture art like you? Because the Waker River Gardens is absolutely beautiful this time of year, but people don’t tend to go in Winter because of the cold.”

“How did you know I like statute art?” Link asked as they approached the restaurant.

“Oh, uh, Mipha mentioned it,” Zelda said, really hoping she wasn’t coming across as creepy. Curse her perfect memory. “She said that you were friends growing up, and you were majoring in art and teaching.” Wrong. He was double majoring in Art and History Education.

“I’m double majoring in Art and History Education,” Link corrected her with a smile. Zelda mentally patted herself on the back. “So a first year history course was a little easy for me. Hence finishing the test so early. I’m not sure which one I’m going to like more, art or history education, so I’m filling my schedule with both and letting fate take me. Are you majoring in history? You always had such good answers in class.”

“Nope, I’m a bio-chem major, this is just a GE credit,” Zelda said. “But my family has always been big on history, so it wasn’t a terribly challenging course for me either. But it was fun.”

They arrived at the Milk Bar and gave their orders before sitting down at a table.

“Is that why your parents named you ‘Zelda’?” Link asked, not seeing her flinch, “because they like history?”

Hylia, why could she only think of stupid answers? “It’s a family name” was stupid, “my name’s actually illegal because they never took the law off the books forbidding my family from naming their daughters ‘Zelda’ after the fall of the monarchy, isn’t that funny?” was worse. “Yes, because they loved the history that said I have to be named Zelda so any possible heroes of legend and/or incarnations of evil could find me and allow me to assist/confront them with my non-existent goddess-descendant powers,” was so far off the table she shouldn’t even be thinking it.

“Er, you don’t have to answer that,” Link said when her pause lasted a bit too long. “You must get that a lot, sorry. It was just a bit surreal to have Professor Rauru call upon ‘Miss Zelda’ for an in-depth analysis of historical interracial politics.”

“It’s okay, I did get it a lot,” Zelda admitted, “sorry for freaking out a little, spending middle school being called ‘Princess Zelda, Queen of Freaks’ still hits me sometimes.” Stupid! How did she manage to come up with a more embarrassing response than all the others. She rushed, “I mean, haha, I’m over it. It’s just a name. And I’m not the only one named after historical figures, Link, the Hero of Hyrule, so . . .” And it was getting worse, she couldn’t look away from her lap. Please cooperate mouth, “So . . . it’s not as unusual as you would think?”

Nope. Call it a day. Worst work she had ever put forth in a conversation. Only thing left was to leave awkwardly and hope they never cross paths again.

“Actually I think—”

“You’re right, sometimes parents do give us ridiculous names to live up to,” Link said, speaking over her. Zelda stopped reaching for her bag and looked up. He smiled gentle, his hands on the table, “Mom always says that my name came to her in a dream, and Dad was hoping I’d turn into a great warrior that would follow his footsteps into the military. He’s always groaned about how my name was wasted on an artist and aspiring teacher.”

“Link is the name of a peacemaker,” Zelda defended, leaning forward and staring him straight in the eye. “In times of chaos and strife, a peacemaker means being a warrior that protects those who wish to stop fighting from those that wont stop. The heroes of Links past were successful against evil because they pulled tools and philosophies and lessons and fighting styles from every people of Hyrule. In times of peace, to be a peacemaker means connecting people across cultures in different ways. Through art, which is universal and touches the light of intelligence and soul of fire within all of us. Or teaching, affirming ideals of peace and understanding before the weight of the prior generations’ grudges take hold. Your chosen professions honor the name ‘Link’ and every Link that has gone before you through the annuls of time approves of your decisions.”

Link’s mouth was hanging open by the end of her speech.

Why had she said that? The words didn’t feel like they came from her, but they were true. She felt their truth down to her soul, but it was like they had been whispered in her ear, and she commanded to speak, more than something she would ever say on her own.

Especially not to Link.

Oh Hylia, Link hadn’t moved.

Though Hylia might be the problem. Gosh, this was so embarrassing. Why did her freaky priestess background make her passionately spout truths when she wasn’t as the Shrine?

She felt blood flooding to her face in flushed embarrassment, and she snatched up her bag, “Oh Hylia, sorry about that! I can’t believe I said that. Uh, just ignore me, please. Please. I’m just going to tell them to wrap my food to go, sorry. Bye Link.”

She stood up and started walking to the counter when something grabbed at her backpack, stopping her in her tracks.

“No, please don’t go, it’s fine, it’s cool, I swear,” Link said. A glance back showed that he was blushing too, immediately releasing her bag. “You caught me off guard, but that’s one of the things I like about you. You’re always 100% sincere. It’s . . . it’s cool. Someone as smart as you could probably go around making everyone feel stupid, but you care more about saying what you actually think and feel and it’s cool. Don’t be embarrassed for saying something really cool.”

Zelda stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he meant all that or not.

He managed to turn redder, “And now I’ve used cool like four, no, five times in a row, showing I’m clearly the weird one and you should probably leave.”

“I don’t want to leave if you don’t want me to leave,” Zelda managed, taking small glances at him then away from him.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Awesome, does that mean I can give you your food now or what?” a girl said, jolting both of them from their heads. The girl popped her bubblegum and waited.

“Yes, please, right here,” Zelda said, hurriedly sitting back down. “Sorry.”

The girl shrugged, put the food down, and walked away.

“So, uhh, moving on,” Zelda said, “What do you think about taking Aryll to the Waker River Gardens?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Link said. “She’s more into knitting craft wise, but we spent some summers in the Waker Islands . . . .”

The red slowly receded from their faces as they managed to have a good, not intense, conversation. She helped him plan out different things to do with Aryll, and he let her infodump on some of the local history.

Then he walked her to her bus stop, so they could keep talking.

The bus was coming and he quickly asked, “So, do you, uh, want to join me and Aryll at the Waker River gardens? The day after Midwinters? If you’re not busy, Aryll would love to hear you talk about the sculptures, I’m sometimes too quiet for her on my own.”

The bus arrived, she only had a second to decide. “Yes, I’d love to. Um, I’ll get your phone number from Mipha?” she said, drifting towards the loading door.

“Please. See you soon,” Link said, still smiling at her.

Zelda nodded. Got on the bus. Sat herself in the farthest corner she could, pulled as many folds of her scarf in front of her mouth as she could and squealed as the bus drove away.

Missing Link, staring at her through the bus window, still able to hear it.

The week coming up to Midwinters passed by in a blur of dance practice and texting Link. Zelda did get Mipha’s blessing to pursue Link, since Link had asked Mipha about Zelda too and she wasn’t one to stand in the way of true love for a childhood crush. Mark caught on, but didn’t tease her too much. Dad teased her more, but he was so busy preparing the shrine for the three-night ceremony, he couldn’t do it nearly enough to actually affect her.

Freshly bathed in blessed spring on their property, wearing the pine robe she had donned during Farore’s day, Zelda waited for her cue as Dad and Mark got the attendees to quiet down so they could start.

It seemed like there were more people here than usually attended. Hylia worship had fallen out of style with Castletown the last two-hundred years of industrial progress. Some she recognized, like Impa’s family with their snow-sheikah hair, they came every year, and most were tourists fascinated by the fact that she was descended from a straight maternal line of royalty and priestesses, rather than actually here to obtain blessings from the Goddess. Some faces she recognized from elsewhere, like Professor Rauru.

Luckily his eyesight was going and the Midwinter’s ceremony was the one ceremony that she didn’t speak, symbolizing the years of confinement and time-biding Hylia often required of her followers before blessing them with power to overthrow the darkness. He would definitely recognize her voice, but without her speaking, she’d be just Hylia’s Priestess.

Then she caught a truly familiar face, sitting with a blonde girl.

Link.

Zelda shoved the curtain closed and backed up, accidently overturning the brazier and bringing Impa towards her in worry.

“Zelda? What’s wrong?”

“Link’s in the crowd,” Zelda said, about to kneel and clean up the ashes. Impa forcefully yanked her away and looked pointedly at her dress. Right. Divine representatives of the goddess shouldn’t have ashes on their knees before going through their devotions if they could avoid it.

What did that matter? Link’s in the crowd! He was going to see her be weird and undress halfway and see her get her face painted with crazy symbols and watch her walk with bells all over her and he’s never going to see her as a maybe girlfriend ever again!

“Breathe Zelda,” Impa instructed. “Breathe, it’s fine. You’re okay.”

“But Link doesn’t know I’m this Zelda,” she emphasized. “He’s going to think I’m a freak. It takes years of study to understand the symbols and appreciate them, he’s here as a tourist and going to think I’m a religious nutcase.”

Impa opened her mouth to respond.

“And don’t say that it’s my fault for not telling him. My childhood trauma is not my fault.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Impa sighed. She scrubbed her hands clean then pushed Zelda’s still wet hair back behind one ear. “I was going to say that this is who you are. You are part of all the women who have come before you, and your legacy will become part of every daughter that descends from you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You’re going to paint the triforce on my forehead,” Zelda pointed out, wringing her hands. “And he’s going to watch you take off the robe and sew the new robe onto me. How could he possibly find me attractive after that!”

“Your father found your mother’s faith attractive,” Impa pointed out. “And I found my husband’s faith attractive. To believe something with your whole heart,” the drums silenced, their cue to enter the stage. “That’s what it means to live,” she finished with a whisper. “He’s not worthy of you if he doesn’t see the beauty of this ceremony.”

“But I really, really like him,” Zelda whimpered.

“Do you love Hylia more?”

That wasn’t fair.

It also wasn’t wrong. Zelda closed her eyes and let her head hang forward. She took a deep breath.

“Go, I will follow.��

“Hylia cares about your love life more than most,” Impa promised with a kiss to her brow. Wrinkled hands squeezed hers. “Trust Her. You will be loved. And it would be a precious story if your true love was named Link.”

Impa walked out and Zelda made herself breath another prayer.

To the Goddess, I give praise for the wisdom of my ancestors in continuing to honor her and the values she guards. I am honored by the strength given to endure all trials of my faith. I am honored by the courage She grants me to risk my heart for my faith in Her and all my ancestors before me. May Her blessings see me through this night with wisdom to perform correctly according to ancient practices, strength to endure without embarrassment, and courage to proclaim my faith of greater importance than the feelings my heart. Adimen.

Impa hit the gong that was Zelda’s cue.

Zelda had practiced enough to do this blindfolded. So she made her eyes unfocus on the crowd as she stepped into the firelight, her hair damp but no longer dripping.

The hour long ceremony felt longer.

Impa disrobed her, returning Farore’s gifts of courage, claimed between the fall equinox and midwinters, to the sky by burning the fabric. Her undershift, which modestly gathered above her bust and fell to her knees, was slowly covered with Midwinter’s clothes and bells, her outfit built on top of her to drumming of the assistants and occasionally flute. Impa spoke of each piece as it layered on her. What it represented. Finishing with her dry, now plyable hair.

Zelda held still when she was supposed to still and moved when she was to ring the bells at her wrists, ears, hair, knees, and ankles. She closed her eyes as Impa applied the facepaint.

And with a breath, Zelda turned her head to more clearly be seen by the audience.

Hylia, to you I give the shame I have been holding onto. I choose you and the traditions of my mothers. I repent of my embarrassment. Let me be your avatar.

Let Link see us as one and decide for himself if I am still someone he seeks.

Impa was doing the final stroke of the triforce, and it wasn’t her hand caressing Zelda’s shoulder in a hug. Impa stepped back, and still more gentle hands helped her stand up and walk like water, breathing in Farore’s wind to fuel the fire inside her.

Except the fire wasn’t just inside her anymore. It wasn’t tucked like a battery in her heart. It felt like her breath was setting fire to the very blood in her veins. Blood pushed through her like rivers of lava, but she was not burned. The air sweeping through her lungs wasn’t a human breath, but the wind rushing through the mountain peaks of Lanyru. She felt like she had become one with Hyrule.

Do not speak, Daughter. Know that we are here with you, always. Hylia shines on you and protects Hyrule still.

A thousand voices at once should not be that gentle.

Tears gathered in her eyes, her only available response to overwhelming love, and she did not speak as she continued her dance. The tears acted as their own blindfold, as constant as the water flowing from the Zora’s Domain into Lake Hylia, but she no longer cared about the eyes of the audience, only that the powers within her and surrounding her knew to protect all those watching, and all those that weren’t.

To each direction she rang the bells and felt her love for the races connected to those cardinal points. Gorons to the North. Zora to the Northeast. Sheikah to the East. And so forth until all the peoples on Hylia’s land, under Hylia’s protection, were blessed with another year of the Goddess’s protection from evil and the desires and whispers of destruction.

The dance turned faster, but Zelda didn’t miss a single step, her body its own chorus, its own promise, that with every step of the goddess’s representative, it was a step that worked for Hyrule’s prosperity and piece. Zelda’s every step should ring out like this, always, but instead of chimes, love for the people around her and her desire for their protection should emanate from her for all to see and understand.

She would. She would. She would.

The dance wound down, so did the flames and the lights until everything was plunged into darkness, the drums and other instruments finally ceasing.

Zelda stood up, the bells heralding what eyes couldn’t see. She danced forward again for every direction, for every people, and she swore she could see the blue of Link’s eyes in the darkness when the cloudy, moonless night meant no one saw anything, until a leap took her behind the curtain to the northwest leaving silence behind.

Zelda held stiller than she had the whole rest of the ceremony as Father turned the electric lights back on, thanked everyone for attending Hylia’s blessing, please leave a donation on your way out, and Happy Midwinter to everyone, gods all bless.

When the shrine had emptied out of the main ceremonial area, Impa arrived and respectfully removed the bells, wrapping them for next year with barely a sound. Then helped clean her face and help her out of the white midwinter’s dress. This newly made dress would be donned and dismantled come Nayru’s day in two months.

Zelda would normally change into her pajama’s from here, exhausted, and go to bed to wait Midwinter’s morning, but Mark called out as he handed her a bag of her clothes through the curtain.

“You’re gonna want these this time,” he said vaguely. “Your boyfriend asked to see you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Zelda said. “And he’s probably waiting to tell me I’m never going to be.” She tried to feel hurt at the statement, now that the ceremony and strength from her ancestors had passed.

But she felt fine. Zelda had chosen her faith and it was the right decision.

Now was probably the best time for Link to break her heart, with the high of the ceremony, he’d barely be able to scratch it.

“Impa, I don’t remember you painting this one,” Zelda said, frowning at the triforce on the back of her right hand. She rubbed at it, but it wouldn’t come off. “Impa?”

“Oh, my dear girl,” Impa said, putting her hands over Zelda’s. Impa’s deep set eyes were smiling and watery, “It’s not paint or ink. It’s a mark from the Goddess that you have come fully into your power as her avatar on Earth. You’re going to need gloves if you want to hide that. And if my grandmother was right, not even gloves will truly work, not when you’re doing the goddess’s business with her full might.”

“Did . . . did Mom have this?” Zelda asked.

Impa shook her head, “Your mother was an excellent Priestess of Hylia, but the Goddess did not mark her in this way.”

“Are you dressed? Can I see? Dad’s whipping up a cake right now to celebrate claiming your divine birthright, by the way. Told you you were special.”

“I’m dressed,” Zelda said, still marveling at her hand.

“Let me see,” Mark said, coming through the curtains and stopping at her shoulder. He whistled, “That’s way better than a tattoo. It was glowing during your dance.”

“Really?”

“Really, it was super cool during the darkness part. We can experiment later,” Mark decided, pushing her shoulder the way he came in, “Boyfriend now.”

“Not my boyfriend,” she said, her face flushing a little as she let him push her out towards the exit. She had been the goddess’s avatar and blessed the kingdom of Hyrule less than an hour ago, she could talk to Link.

And even if she word vomited like last time, Zelda would be okay.

She could be as embarrassing as her worst moment, and she would be okay.

Zelda grinned and picked up the pace.

“Link, hi!” Zelda said, rounding the corner to where he was waiting at the top of the steps.

“Zelda,” he said, his hand going to his hair.

“Did I see you here with your sister earlier?” Zelda asked, looking around for her.

“Aryll was cold, and she promised to wait in the car so long as I made sure you were still coming with us to the Gardens the day after tomorrow.”

Link shoved his hands in his pockets after he stopped fiddling with his hair.

“So . . . you were waiting for me?” Zelda prompted. Not scared of his answer in the least.

Link nodded, “Yeah, I asked your dad if I could see you. He almost said no, but your brother stepped in and said he’d ask you. Umm, so Zelda is a family name?”

Zelda giggled, “Just a bit.”

“Isn’t technically still illegal for members of your family to be named Zelda?” he said, then his eyes widened, “Not that I’m going to report you to the police or anything.”

“My ancestors figured that so long as they left off the fact that I am technically Zelda IV-XXIII, and my legal name is only Zelda Baker, people wouldn’t accuse us of trying to reclaim our ancestral position as heads of state,” Zelda said.

“You are the 4,023rd Zelda to bear the name?” Link asked.

“My family kept good records.”

Link groaned, “You are literally descended royalty and the Goddess’s avatar in mortal form.” His hand came out of his pocket to cover his eyes, “And you are not making this easy on me.”

“I’ll be quiet while you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Zelda promised sincerely.

He peeked at her through his fingers.

Zelda mimed locking her lips shut.

He took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said, facing her again. “Zelda Baker, I really like you. I mean really like you. Would the Royal Goddess Zelda XXIII, consider going on a date with plain old mortal me?”

“The Royal Goddess Zelda isn’t going to come out again until Nayru’s day,” Zelda told him, grinning. “But Zelda Baker would love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” he asked, perking up. “Umm, how does breakfast at Telma’s sound? We can pick Aryll up and go to the Gardens after.”

“It sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Link said, smiling goofily.

For a moment Zelda felt a warm hand on her back, pushing her to go one step forward. And maybe it was just the memory, the residual confidence, but Zelda took that step forward.

“Can I . . .” Zelda asked, taking the second step to be very clearly in his personal space.

“Whatever you want,” Link promised, not moving away.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, a little shyness coming back at actually voicing the request. It sounded juvenile, like a real adult would be able to read body language and immediately understand if this was allowed or not, like in the movies. But this was Zelda’s first kiss. She wanted to be sure and clear.

“Yes,” he said, and his hand came up to cup Zelda’ cheek and pull her lips to his. His lips moved against hers, and she didn’t quite know what to do, but she pressed forward more, hoping he understood she liked what was happening.

Suddenly overwhelmed, she pulled back, her face feeling hot.

“Goodnight Link,” she said, still smiling. “I’ll see you Tuesday at Telmas, 8:00.”

“Goodnight Zelda,” he said, and waved as she escaped back to her house.

This time Zelda didn’t deny it when Mark called Link her boyfriend.

#12DaysofChristmas2022 #Zelink #Legend of Zelda #Priestess Zelda #Hopefully the others are shorter #but I think I broke through my writer's block #this was really fun #remember that Christmas is a time where you're allowed to share your more personal beliefs about God and the meaning of life

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the-ragingenby · 2 years

Text

Second chapter is already out! I surprise myself sometimes >:3

AO3 Crosspost:

Dear Fellow Traveler

Chapter 2: Affections

It had only been a few weeks since Spencer and Morgan had been talking, but Spencer felt like he'd known the man forever. He’s even found himself getting distracted at work just thinking about how he’d get to tease Derek later, which was a first for him.

Honestly, he still surprises himself with how bold he can push himself to be.

“Dr. Reid?” Spencer looked up from his book to see a student nervously shuffling a few papers in their hands. “I know the professor isn’t here right now, but do you think you can take a look at my essay before I hand it in?”

Spencer nodded and quietly took the papers from the student’s hands, pulling out a pen from the drawer. Within a few minutes, he wrote a few detailed notes on different sections before handing it back. “Your introduction and second paragraph need a little work, but otherwise I’d say it’s solid.”

The student nodded, gratefully taking back the papers. They moved to leave, then paused, turning back to Spencer who had taken up his book again. “Do you know when Professor Gideon will be back? Not that I mind you teaching the class, but he’s–”

“More lenient with grading, I know.” Spencer said, looking up at the student with his usual blank expression. “He’ll be back this afternoon and return to teaching tomorrow, so you can relax.” The student’s shoulders slumped with relief, and they quickly excused themselves.

Spencer heaved a sigh. It was always like this at Virginia University. Half the students here paid their way into the school and don’t know what they’re doing, then expect for the teachers to pick up their slack. I’m tired of it. He put his book down, suddenly losing interest in reading. He felt too crummy to really enjoy it right now.

After a moment of thought, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It turns out, Derek had sent him a message. Curious. He doesn’t often text during the day.

[3:37 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Hey Pretty Boy. I have some free time right now, so I wanted to check in.

[3:38 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Did the professor you were covering for come back yet?

[3:52 pm]

throughthe_Reids: Not yet, but he’ll be here soon. I hope.

[3:52 pm]

throughthe_Reids: The students are getting antsy now that their grades are dropping. They thought they could get away with turning in tossed together assignments and expect a good grade.

Spencer looked up when someone else walked into Gideon’s office. Lo and behold, it was the man himself. Gideon paused, staring at Spencer in surprise. “What are you still doing here, Reid? Office hours ended two hours ago.” He laughed as Spencer quietly slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“I told your students that they could come in until four, since many of them had questions.” Spencer explained. “I don’t blame them. This chapter is particularly complex.” Gideon squinted at him.

“But don’t you need to finish your dissertation?” Gideon asked, sliding his bag under his desk and pulling up another chair.

“I finished it a few days ago and already made all the necessary corrections. Besides, finals are in a few weeks, then graduation. So, I’ve got time.” Spencer explained. Gideon always worries about him, but really, Spencer is fine. I’m always fine.

Gideon settled down and slipped on his reading glass, looking through the pile of assignments Spencer had spent the afternoon grading. Spencer fiddled with his hands for a moment before reaching for his book, hesitating when his phone buzzed.

Out of habit, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, reading the new messages from Derek with a gentle smile.

[4:01 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Ah, I’m sorry. But hey, as long as you know you’re doing a good job, at least some of those kids are learning.

[4:02 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? I know you’re an awesome teacher.

[4:02 pm]

throughthe_Reids: Thanks, Derek. We’ll talk later. Promise.

When Spencer looked up, Gideon was gazing at him with a conflicted expression, glasses sliding down his nose. “So who are you talking to?” Gideon asked with a sigh. “You hardly ever use your phone as it is, and you're smiling like a kid who managed to steal some candy from a jar.”

Spencer hesitated. Gideon probably won’t be too impressed if he told the truth. But it wasn’t easy to hide things from Gideon. So, what the hell. What’s the worst that could happen? “A friend of mine introduced me to another friend, who I’m talking to now.” At that, Gideon frowned.

“Even after everything that’s going on right now, you’re still taking that risk, Reid?” Gideon huffed in disbelief. “That man is still out there. How do you know it's not him?”

“Gideon, I respect you, but even I know this guy’s M.O. by now. My, uh, friend is nothing like that. And the person who introduced us is more than trustworthy.” Spencer stated. Gideon’s frown only grew deeper.

“You can never trust anyone, Spencer. How long is it until you get it through your head?” Gideon stood up, gathering his things.

“Gideon, I understand that your time at the BAU was traumatic, to say the least.” Spencer murmured, trying hard to appease his mentor. “But not everyone is like the unsubs you were trying to catch, and just because I need to be cautious does not mean I shouldn’t try to continue living my life.”

“Spencer.” Gideon drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “If something were to happen to you under my watch, I would never forgive myself. And if you are talking to anyone in the BAU, like I suspect, that will only ensure that something bad will happen. I want you to stop talking to them. Both of them. It’s safer that way.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now he was going to feel horrible for the rest of the day. “Right. Good afternoon, Gideon. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, trying hard to keep his voice flat, emotionless. It hurt less that way. Quietly, he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and left the office.

He took the subway home, as usual, and collapsed on his bed. He could already feel a migraine approaching, and Morgan doesn’t know about his condition. I don’t want to leave him hanging, but the screen is going to start hurting my eyes sooner rather than later.

With a heavy sigh, he pulls out his phone and typed out Penelope’s number, letting the phone ring. She picked up almost immediately. “Spencer! Hey! Hi! Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you in danger?”

Despite himself, Spencer laughs. “No, no. I’m fine, Penelope.” He murmured, smiling gently. “I just, uh, needed to talk? I guess? Or rather, let you know that another migraine is coming on. So I don’t want to leave Derek without him knowing what’s happening. Could you let him know?”

Penelope didn’t reply for a moment, and Spencer realized her silence must mean she’s plotting something. “Why don’t you call him yourself? I’m sure he’d love to finally hear your voice.”

“Penelope, he doesn’t even know what I look like. He’s been complaining that you haven’t even shown him pictures.” Spencer replied, slightly shaking his head even though he knew she couldn’t see him, and promptly stopped when it sparked more pain. “Besides, I sound like a high schooler on a good day. I can only imagine how I’ll sound even a half hour from now.”

“Aw, don’t say that! You don’t sound too bad anyway.” Penelope teased. Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, Penelope.” Spencer sighed, playfully exasperated.

“But seriously, he’s been dying to hear your voice. He sounds like a starved puppy sometimes.” Penelope continued. “But he’s lovable. And I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.”

“More like he’s giving me a chance.” Spencer added softly. “I still can’t quite believe that he’s made the effort to continue talking to me. I didn’t want to believe Gideon, but maybe he was right.”

“Gideon’s back? And he’s already being overprotective? Shocker.” Penelope huffed. “Anyway, I don’t want to pressure you, so don’t worry. I’ll let him know for you. Talk soon. Love ya!”

“Thanks again, Penelope.” Spencer murmured, wincing as pain sparked behind his eyes. He hung up, then managed to drag himself out of bed and head to the bathroom. He took a cloth and dampened it with some cool water, laying it over his eyes as he laid back on his bed.

As he fought to regulate his breathing, Spencer found that just quieting down his brain for a few minutes made him feel a little better. He spent the rest of the evening like that, occasionally getting up to dampen the cloth again.

Despite his wishes, Spencer found he could only fall into a light doze. Sleep eluded him, as per usual. But he found that when Derek encourages him to rest, he finds it much easier to do so. Ah, if only it didn’t hurt so much. And I don’t want to bother him either.

Spencer wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he suddenly felt his phone vibrating viciously. He didn’t want to answer, really, but something in him pushed him to carefully peel the cloth off his eyes and haphazardly tapped at his phone, eventually answering the call.

After a few moments of silence (Spencer always allowed the person on the other line to speak first, for security reasons), the smooth voice on the other end asked, “Pretty boy, you there?” At that, Spencer felt himself freeze, both in shock and utter disbelief.

“S-sorry, who is this?” Spencer shot up, stifling a groan of pain as he did. It couldn’t be Derek, could it? No, no, of course not. It’s probably that bastard again, trying to get me to let my guard down. I should’ve checked before I answered. God, this always happens whenever I get close to anyone–

“It’s Derek. Uh, Derek Morgan. Garcia said you were in a lot of pain yesterday, so I just wanted to check in. I thought about texting you, but I realized you probably couldn’t look at them in your state.” Derek explained, his voice soft but strong.

“Yesterday…?” Spencer couldn’t quite believe it. He glanced at his table clock, which indeed proved that a whole day had passed. Well, it was actually getting closer to forty-eight hours. And nothing from Gideon. Though I shouldn’t be surprised. “I see.”

“Sorry, I know this was kind of out of the blue, and I know you aren’t feeling the best, but I was worried. Probably more worried than I should’ve been.” Derek admitted after a moment.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile, despite the pain he was in. “I’m sorry to have worried you. I told her not to make it sound too bad, but I guess she exaggerated a little. It’s just a migraine, nothing serious.”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I don’t like knowing that my pretty boy is in pain.” Spencer blinked slowly, stunned. His pretty boy?

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m sorry if I don’t sound my best.” Spencer said, desperately trying to change the topic of conversation. If any more little nicknames come out of his mouth, I don’t think I’ll survive. “I normally sound better than this. Not by much, but better.”

“No, don’t apologize. You sound, uh, cute, actually.” Derek let out a nervous laugh. “Anyway, glad you’re good and in one piece so I guess I’ll leave you alone now, bye!” Spencer didn’t want him to hang up. But he knew Derek was busy. And considering that Gideon had suspected the people he was talking to were from the BAU, Spencer could only assume Derek and Penelope worked with them too.

And all this thinking is making my brain hurt. “D-Derek, wait.” Spencer found himself saying, mentally smacking himself. Stop trying to keep this man from his job. “Do you think you could just…stay on the phone with me for a little longer? I just wanna hear your voice.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and Spencer felt that he had pushed the boundary much farther than it should have been and why did he say that–

“Alright, Spence. Anything to make you feel better. And if you promise to try to get some sleep.” Derek finally said, huffing gently in amusement.

“Yeah, promise.” Spencer agreed quickly, laying back against his pillows. He could hear Derek moving a desk chair, maybe, and settle into it.

“I’m not sure what to talk about. You’re a lot better at this than I am.” Derek admitted. Despite his words, he sounded a lot more confident than he did a few minutes ago. As Spencer closed his eyes, he fell asleep to the soft, steady cadence of Derek’s words, with him talking about his team’s latest cases and how much he’s enjoying Doctor Who so far.

Spencer woke up with a start the next morning. His migraine was basically gone, just the sensation of the dull, lingering pain, but nothing excruciating. At the very least, he was able to check his phone without wanting to gauge his eyes out.

As he read the messages from Derek, he froze as he slowly remembered all that had happened the previous evening. I must have been more out of it then I realized. Spencer let out a groan of pure embarrassment, pressing his face into his hands. “He was complimenting me on my voice and I didn’t say anything about his and it was probably really rude. And I asked him to stay on the phone with me and he was probably busy and I just don’t get why he’s wasting his time. God, why am I like this?”

After getting all that out of his system, he went through all the messages he had missed while he was out of commission. Gideon was checking in, assumed right about the migraine. Alright… He paused when he realized he had more than a handful of messages from Derek, of all people. And most of them are from before we had that call.

[6:51 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Hey, Spence. Just checking in.

[6:51 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: I know we normally talk around this time, but I get it if you’re busy. Just don’t push yourself too hard!

[10:13 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Alright, maybe I’m getting worried over nothing and you’re asleep. Rest well, okay?

[7:27 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: Heard the news from Garcia. She told me not to worry, but it seems that’s all I’m good for these days.

[7:27 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: Please just take care of yourself, okay?

[8:39 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: Alright, I can’t take it anymore. Not being able to hear from you is driving me crazy. And I wanna make sure you’re okay. That too.

[8:40 pm]

De-Reel_Morgan: I’m gonna give you a call, so forgive me if I sound a little like a crazy person. I promise I’m not normally like this.

[4:12 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: I’m assuming you finally fell asleep. Have you been having trouble sleeping, Spence? Just let me know and I’m 10000% willing to do this again.

[4:13 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: But not just to hear your voice or anything. No. Nope. Nothing like that.

[6:33 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: Hopefully you rested well. I looked into some temporary pain relief for migraines, and they say that warm drinks might help a little. So maybe try some tea, or hot chocolate.

[6:33 am]

De-Reel_Morgan: But lay off the coffee for a little while, you little addict.

Spencer felt his face grow warm at Derek’s affections. Maybe, just maybe, it was alright to think that Derek cared about him. Like, really cared about him. Despite what Gideon had to say, he really wanted to keep talking to Derek. He makes me feel…special. Like I’m worth something. And he’s nothing like the person Gideon’s trying to protect me from. I think, just this once, I can make my own decisions.

#criminal minds #derek morgan #fanfiction #fanfic #spencer reid #ao3 author #romance

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stainedglassandpigs · 4 days

Text

Basically just posting all my unfinished story cause I’m tired of em sitting in writers block hell. This one was influenced by a fanfic I read about yn working in a special facially in the middle of nowhere.

I haven’t looked back for spelling errors and stuff so my apologies if it highkey shitty

Originals I wrote this in first person, then I was liek “aren’t x readers second person” so I changed it half way but didn’t fully finish changing it my bad ngl got tired of going back to change it. Idk the streets say they don’t like first but I don’t mind it. So I go back and forth with it so apologies again if that further throws the story off

Story takes place in the marvel universe (honestly won’t ever really get mentioned fr I just wanted to use a universe that would allow for all the strange magic stuff)

Very marry sue mc idc, will prolly stay unfished but I though I should let it at least see the light of day

Standing You looked at what would be your home for the next year, a small two story building with a basement level. It was surrounded on all sides by thick forest, no other house or building for at least 4 miles.

Walking in you carry some of your belongings that would soon fill the home with you thinking about how you even ended up in this situation.

Freshly graduated with a PhD the only plans you had for the next year was to fuck off the face of the earth and not think of essays, research, and grades for the rest of ever.

6 years you had devoted to my PhD

You had barely even began to enjoyed your freedom before your parents told you of this job offer in some remote forest.

“It’ll be fun y/n, you’ll get to travel like you always wanted” mom said as we were walking around the store grocery shopping.

You contemplated her words as you looked through the tea isle, not thinking much of it, they had been talking bout your next move for weeks since you graduated.

“It pays 5k a month as well” dad said glancing at you when you finally picked the tea you wanted.

“You’re joking” You say, no way they found some random job that pays that much outta the blue something was definitely going on here but you was more focused on what the tea you had picked up.

For the rest of the grocery shopping process my parents filled you in on this new job although you could tell they were being vague.

By the end you were pretty much convinced, vague or not it sounded like a good gig and you didn’t have anything else begging for my attention.

“So will you take the Job pretty?” Moms nickname for you, oh she was definitely up to something

“Sure why not, not like I got anything else going on” You shrug, it never did take a lot to convince you on life changing matters.

“Great! Bc we alr told them yes for you”

“GUYS!”

“In our defense we knew you would say yes” dad says shrugging in agreement.

“Your interview is Monday” Your mother says casually like it wasn’t Sunday afternoon.

“Y’all are going to hell”

“Thank us later”

That was 2 months ago, now you stand in your new house thinking about all the things you needed to prep before your first day tmr.

Unpacking wasn’t easy either, as a collector and artist, hoarding was second nature.

It took you pretty much the whole day unboxing everything finishing up just before the stars fully came out, you started to regret your decision to start the job. The whole process had been so quick passed your decision were finally catching up with your mind.

You would be apart from your friends and family for the first time, before, they were always at the very least a few hours drive away but now you were in the middle of nowhere and still didn’t fully know what the job that brought you here was.

With nothing better to do you walked outside to the backyard fresh air would be your temporary cure to this uneasy feeling.

Although calling it a backyard was a gross exaggeration, it was a space behind the house that lead directly into the forest you were soon to be studying.

You stepped into the middle of the backyard and promptly laid down on the grass, it was soft and inviting. The light breeze on your face was extremely rewarding after building up a sweat from today’s labors.

Looking up at the expanse of star it was clear you were in the forest you thought, the light pollution was almost nothing. Compared to the town you were raised in it was like being teleported to another planet.

Usually the sound of cars and people would be flooding your ears but here, under these beautiful stars all you could hear was the faint sound of water rushing and crickets, with a chorus of random animal sounds.

It was new and unusual for you.

You always had music playing but right now you felt no urge to pull your phone out and play anything.

The sky and natural band of sounds playing was enough, you stayed there for at least an hour just looking and listening.

Nature truly was mesmerizing.

You could have stayed like that for an eternity just looking and listening.

What stirred you to finally check your phone and go in was this growing presence that made your skin crawl.

Almost as if something was taking you in just as much you were taking in the starry sky.

At first you thought it was your imagination. It was dark out and you were new to the area your mind could have just been playing tricks on you.

Sitting up to get a proper look just to make sure because none of the animals that are known for being around here would still be out this late specially not with all new human activity in the areas from your moving.

Maybe it was just your nerves from starting the new job tomorrow. Rationalizing with yourself as you searched the perimeter of the backyard you began to ease back down relaxing.

That was until you seen it.

Eyes starring back at you.

Red eyes.

City folk as you were you knew enough to tell red was NOT a normal color for animals.

Making sure you made no sudden movements you began to head inside trying to keep your cool as much as possible, whatever was lurking in those trees you definitely didn’t wanna alarm it.

The night after that was quick, a shower and to bed you went. You made sure to check your alarms multiple times though. You didn’t wanna be late to your high paying job after all.

Just like the night the morning was brief, getting ready was quick.

Even your curls were working for you this morning, the only real debate was whether you wanted them out or up. Opting for out, there wasn’t much field work today, seeing as it was your first, so you was sure having your hair in its curled state would be fine.

Clothes was simple enough, there was no real dress code to your knowledge so you just put on a simple outfit a comfortable cute top and some light washed jeans.

Glasses on last and finally doing one last check of the house and you were out the door.

You were equal parts excited, curious, and nervous.

This was your dirst big job… like ever.

The drive to work was about 10 minutes, enough time to play some music and calm your thoughts and wake up a bit more.

Shallowly you thought about if there would be anyone fine working with you. What can you say you were a simple gal, having someone attractive at work made it more fun.

Pulling up to the building you were surprised by how old it looked, in your head you were picturing large brutalist esque architecture. The building before you was nothing like that, it sorta reminded you of the famous Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted youngsters. You had been once with your family when you were young.

The building was like someone took an old English mansion n dropped it in the middle of a jungle.

You check your phone making sure your drive didn’t take up too much time.

Right on time, perfect.

Looking in the mirror of the work issued car one more time making sure you looked alright, you taking a deep breath stealing myself to set off to start your new mysterious job.

Honestly you didn’t even know where you were going once you got in the building, it wasn’t like you were sent a message on where to go and you didn’t wanna look stupid just standing there so you just tried going up to the first person you see attempting to look as confident as you could muster. (Switch to first person from now on)

I found an older looking woman who was reading over some papers.

Making a beeline to her, before I could even say anything almost as if she had a 5th sense she looks up from her papers to look me over.

“Hello dear!” She said in an accent, the type that made you wanna listen to her for hours

“You must be the new Anthropologist on site, I’ve been expecting you, im Doctor Inroda Rumna, you can just call me Inroda though” she smiled at me.

Up closer I could really take in the details of the women.

she was quite beautiful, tall, tanned, with rich dark eyes, and her hair was done up. I had to force myself to listen to the words coming out her mouth, everything about her was so mesmerizing.

I guess my question of would there be fine people was answered swiftly.

“So y/n you’ll be with me all morning, although the director will be meeting us after I give you a tour of the facility ” ending her sentence with the loveliest of smile again.

“Have you eaten dear? Today will be long so I wanna make sure you’ve gotten enough to power through all day long”

I was just about to say I’ll be alright when my stomach so rudely answered for me

She laughed lightly and walked me to the cafeteria

We talked about small things until I was done eating, a parfait and a big cup of tea was my breakfast of choice while we made idle conversation

Beginning the tour promptly after.

Seeing the library, garden, a few research facilities and Inroda even introduced me to a few other faculties. I asked tons of questions along the way, there was so much to take in.

I indeed was learning so much but at the same time it felt like there was an elephant in the room.

I still didn’t know what I or anyone for that matter was doing here.

We were all in this big building researching something, but either I was just that dumb or it was being kept a secret.

But that’s ridiculous so instead of letting my mind fill in the blanks I did the next best thing, asked Inroda

“Miss Inroda-

“Inronda dear it’s okay” she flashed that beautiful smile I had began to grow found of.

“Inroda” I corrected

“we’ve been walking around for a while now and I’m quite embarrassed to admit, but what exactly are we doing here?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask, you seemed the inquisitive type, most our new hires go a lot longer before they realized they don’t know what’s goin on. Unfortunately it’s not my job to say, not everyone has that clearance” she actually winked at me, now I was interested even more

I began to say something when Inroda opened the door to a room tucked into the back of the facility mansion thing, still don’t know which to call it. The building was such a mix of regular Manson architecture and research bays it was definitely far for the labs and minimalist design you got used to at college, a difference I welcomed though.

The room I walked into was a nice size, and had a large window that overlooked the forest. There was paperwork everywhere and notes stuck to random places with scribbles all over them.

Where the desk was I expected a person, but it was empty. Said person was currently in front of a white board writing something as they were on the phone listening intently.

Inroda motions for me to stay near the door as she walks over to the other women.

The women was definitely still older then me but younger then Inroda. They looked to be comfortable with each other, making no stressed movements as Inroda tapped her shoulder, the other women wishing her goodbyes to whomever was on the other end of the phone call, after which Inroda began whispering something in her ear.

The woman seemed pleased yet surprised, she looked over to me, taking in my whole presence.

Whatever she thought it did not show.

“Miss y/n please come here let us talk”

She gestures to a set of couches and chairs on the other side of the room,picking up a packet that had my name on it and sitting gracefully, I rush over and sat trying to seem as cool as her.

“I’m director Izema” she said as she handed me the packet.

Inroda had excused herself to continue her work so I was left alone with the director.

Looking at her now she looked nothing like Miss Inroda other than them both being tall that’s where the similarities ended. Ironda was beautiful in the way spring is beautiful, warm, rich, and inviting. Izema on the other hand was winter. She had a bewitching Beaty to her, but I could tell she was the cold, silent type.

“As you have probably noticed by now you haven’t been well informed about what it is exactly your doing here, that is by design” Miss izema too had an accept, hers sounded Caribbean.

Realizing I’ve spent more time thinking bout accents and appearance I mentally scold myself, pointless distractions my kryptonite.

“The reason for this is for decades now we have been researching something” She paused looking for the right word

“Different”

I look up for the papers I had been lazily looking though.

Different?

What could she mean, like odd, new, strange ?

I mean it’s not like different things didn’t already exist, everyday there’s a new story of the avengers and there crazy powers, what could be so different out there in the jungle.

Still i say nothing and let her continue, after all, I was the newbie here.

“Are you familiar with dragons Miss l/n”

“I’ve heard of them yes, but I always thought they were just some mythological creature?”

“Thor was once just a mythical god too”

“Fair point” I think back to my own family and how… different we were

Lord what did my parents get me into.

“So does that mean you found one?” I question

“Technically no, we have never been able to record a picture or video something seems to always mess with our tec, and they allude capture expertly. The towns people aren’t very helpful either.”

She watches me for a moments, almost daring me to question if they still even are real then, but the way she looks at me is enough proof for me to stay silent. She sees pleased by that.

“I am simply the current director in a line who believes there is something to be found here. Many facilities has seen them with there own eyes. I too have personally had the pleasure of conversing with a dragon. They are quite annoying if I’m being honest”

A laugh a bit at her comment, she on the other hand seems unamused.

“I do not doubt you Director Izema, but I’m still confused as to why you would hire an Anthropologist to help you?”

“I’ve read a few of your papers miss y/n and I know about your family.”

She’s gonna say the thing

“Witches”

She said the thing

“I think you have me confused with someone else Director ” I become a bit defensive, I was always told to keep that a secret and here is this random (beautiful) woman directly confronting me with it.

“It’s okay y/n I won’t tell anyone, I happen to know your mother” my mother has never mentioned this women in my life I think to myself

“Anywhom that’s not really even the reason your here, as I said I’ve read some of your papers,

We were hoping that you could do some ground research, learn the culture, interviews the people and analyze data and consult us, we have reached a standstill with the people of this area and we would like you to help us…” she pause for a moment and something seemed to light in her dark bewitching eyes, amusement I thought.

“Dragons seem to respond more to anthropologists, over the last 60 years of research they only ever seem to interact with ppl of your field, although not all these interactions end with anthropologists alive I must say”

My eyes grow wide at the statement, now I see why I’m getting payed so much. Why the hell did my parents recommend this job.

Director Izema seems entertained by my fright, the most emotion I seen on her face since this conversation began.

“Also your… special magical background has lead me to believe we might actually get some where with them. Do not be in fear of your identity coming out only a handful of people at this facility know what your capacity’s are, and it will stay that way. Your parents were more than clear on that I can assure you. “ she said staring at me with deep sincerity

“Anywhom I have given you some of the notes and research we alr have on the subjects, you will be placed in a team of scientists from other Fields. Your job is simple enough, bring me back new data on the subjects, you will basically have free rain other than that you are dismissed.”

With that director Izema takes me to where I will be stationed and she promptly disappears to do whatever directors do.

After introductions to my team I find my work area, deciding to start small I begin giving the previous research and thorough read through. putting on a good playlist and beginning the long journey ahead.

For a moment I got flash backs of college, distance really does make the heart grow founder because I was thinking of that hell whole and actually kinda missing it.

From what I can gather it becomes glaringly obvious why in the last 20 or so years why they haven’t gotten anywhere.

Other than the egregious amounts of force being used against the subjects, it was clear that not once has the F.I.N.D. organization (Find, investigate, negotiate, database) tried to empathize with.

Every field incident report begans with deadly force and terrorization as the main tactic, of course the dragons would meet that with deadly force in tandem.

They were not only protecting their homeland but themselves for tyrannical militants.

No wonder Anthropologist were the only ones able to learn anything from the dragons, they were the only ones to regard them with a modicum of respect.

For a building of highly educated people, everything before me seemed quite stupid.

Report after report read the same, it was awful. I was beginning to get sick, how could I be working for people like this. It was all so deplorable, quitting didn’t sound so bad, granted it hadn’t even been a full day.

Flipping through the files learning nothing of value I was about to stop when I came cross a file from 25 years ago labeled as the Red Night.

At first I didn’t think much of it.

It was marked the same as all the others, I had already read so many I was tempted to just put them all down and go for a walk, that was until I started reading the report.

It was pouring down, moon high in the sky, the head researcher at the time had been tracking signs of dragon movement for months. He was certain he had found the general area in which the dragons lived, wanting to test his suspicions he sent out an armed platoon into the area.

Searching from dusk till dawn, they were ready to call it yet another failure, when accidentally some of the soldiers who got lost found an unmarked house.

It was hidden well in the forest, farm from prying F.I.N.D eyes.

The two soldiers who found the house reported that there was something moving inside, with the go ahead from there captain they broke down the door and entered the home.

Inside was a dragon, the subject appeared women, the report noted.

Something was off though, the dragon wasn’t attacking instead She even seemed in agony however the soldiers hadn’t began an assault of any kind.

The soldiers moved forward to investigate more when a never before documented event happened, the dragon started pleading with the soldiers to not harm her.

Only until one of the soldiers began binding her to take her in did it become clear why such a powerful creature was rendered so weak.

She was in labor.

Once they realized they immediately radioed in.

If they were able to successfully bring her in not only would they have their first live test subject to study, they could study a newborn dragon as well.

The director of the institute was called in and the mission was now labeled priority one.

This would change everything.

Everyone was being sent to the soldiers and their prized catch.

The two soldiers were now tasked with keeping the dragon in place and alive until the rest of the researchers came to collect her and take as much evidence of the historical event as they could.

It only took 10 minutes for cars full of more armed militants and doctors to arrive at the site. Over 20 people now surround the dragon studying and poking at the creature.

It became clear that something was wrong with her as she tried her best to remain conscious, the doctors on sit immediately could tell something was up with her delivery too but when they tried communicating with the mother to be she refused to speak to them, lashing out if they came to close.

They would have to put her to sleep if they wanted to keep both her and the baby.

It was beginning to get very dangerous she was loosing a lot of blood, all attempts to get near her failed. Anyone who came too close was met with a razor sharp claw that could take an arm off. Time was wasting and the director was beginning to get nervous he was going to loose a precious test subjects.

All the doctors from the facility only seem to aggravate the dragoness more worsening her condition.

That’s when they arrived, the director had called on doctors from the town as a last hope but all of them said no, even back then everyone already hated the F.I.N.D organization.

The only local to show was Doctor Alessandra the local mystic.

They came in with a busted car light barely visible through the heavy down pour and got striaght to the point,

“Bring me to her now”.

The soliders surrounding the small home at first held the Doctor back from getting inside Doctors Alessandra being historically violent towards F.I.N.D. in the past when the Director at the time himself stopped them.

“Let them through, we have no other options, we cannot loose her” he then walked them to the door informing the doctor as they walked.

“Clear them out they are useless and are not helping” Alessandra said walking in with the director.

Doctors in the room began to object when the Director cut in, telling them leave everything behind, there was nothing left for F.I.N.D to do except wait and takes what’s there’s after.

The Director tried to stay in the room too, hoping to witness this miracle when Doctor Alessandria

motioned for him to leave too.

“You are no better than those helpless idiots in doctor whites, leave you villainous man” and leave he did, he had began hearing commotion from outside anyways and thought to go see what was going on.

Just before he left the room he looked upon the scene and heard something that surprised him but also reaffirmed his suspicions.

Doctor Alessandria rushing to the dragons side, and the creature letting them.

“I’m here I’m here, I’m sorry I was not sooner my friend”

They knew each other,

for years the townsfolk had played dumb to the questions the F.I.N.D. organization has asked and this moment proved what the directors thought.

Before he could think on it any further something else caught his attention quickly.

Everyone was running around screaming.

Chaos had broken loose, it was hard to see because the night had met its climax and the rain was still not letting up. Other than the few flashlights that the platoons brought stars were the only source of light and all the car lights off for some reason.

Something was darting around faster than eyes could follow. Every time it stopped a body dropped.

Through the screaming coming from inside the house and those coming from the rapidly depleting force of men, the director realized something that he had forgotten to think about in the excitement of finding the pregnant dragon.

Why was she alone.

Her partner wasn’t there, probably trying to find a natural solution to his partners birthing problems.

And when he did, he returned to a bunch of weapon welding humans and the screams from his partner

Knowing what the humans were capable of he began ripping through them all trying to get to her.

The director favoring self preservation ran to the nearest car. He had to document all that he found tonight and dying would make that impossible.

Pushing soldiers and medical staff out the way he got to a car closing the door in the face of a soldier trying to get away in the same car as him and started the engine.

The dragon male snatched the soldier screaming into the night, the last thing the director seen before getting away was what could only be described as pure carnage.

Blood and body parts everywhere, the few living people left screaming and running trying to escape.

It was another week before anyone attempted to return to the location of the massacre, and when they did the scene looked even more terrifying in the light of day.

What happened to the pregnant dragoness, Doctor Alessandria, and the rampaging dragon was unknown.

Nothing was left of the house only ash someone had burned it completely to the ground, whatever research and evidence that could have been taken purposefully destroyed.

The event was named the red night filed away and because most the evidence was destroyed it was never spoken of again. That concluded the full report given by the Director

Some photos of the sight were in the file showing the fire didn’t spread to the body’s of the dead men or the forest. It was very clear whoever set the fire only cared to cover up the dragons trial.

The files had some additional notes about the events after the Red Night.

Mostly just repeating how much of a utter failure the night was and how the director was the only one who made it out alive that night, other then some people at the mansion who stayed behind and heard everything through the comes.

Unfortunately there was no one to speak to about it either I thought. They had all either died or left the organization immediately after.

Attempts were made to search for Doctor Alessandria in the village but once again was met with nothing helpful. After that event research became slow for years.

On one side the dragons were obviously making an effort not to be found again and on another side everyone was to scared to work for the F.I.N.D organization after the death of over 20 personnel in one night.

This was by far the most noticeable thing I read so far.

#dragon #writing wip

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wilhelmsbee · 7 months

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So basically life got very hectic this week:3 I scheduled my edit on ig but it didn’t post today so I’ll put it up tomorrow but here’s a little life update!! If you’re just here for the edits then it’ll be out tomorrow

SO I am flying internationally for the first time in six years tomorrow! I’m going to Australia and this is gonna be the longest flight I’ve ever done (4h) so I’m stressing about packing and having enough stuff to do (has adhd) as well as getting things ready (like finishing my outfit for the eras tour)

Along side that going international thing, I won’t be able to edit while I’m away so I’m making them in advance but I just got a Mac for the first time so I’m struggling a lil with macOS

I also just finished my job so I’ve been stressing a lil about making sure I can transfer it to where I’m gonna be because as a final point

I’m moving two days after I return home to start my final year of University, which starts two days after I arrive, so I’ve got a lot of future shit to worry about that I kind of can’t stop myself from worrying about right now yk

TLDR: girl with audhd doesn’t do well with change and stress going through a lot of change and stress

Anyway so!!! I’ll probably write my edit essays while I’m away or on the plane or something :) I don’t own a laptop so it’ll be on my iPad or my phone so any typos and stuff should be ignored :)

#ellieoughposting #life update #sorry for the random post #expect new edit tomorrow #then probably a weekish later #then maybe another week idk #need to spread them out

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redafi · 1 year

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So I’ve been gone for a while

Hi!

Sort-of-life-update:

School is being evil but it ends soon so there is freedom on the horizon

My teacher did not like my essay recently, still devastated over this (it was supposed to be about an aspect of a culture in the middle east. Because we were in our middle east unit. I went “oh I’ll write about common themes and symbolism in Israel!” And then found myself drowning in information about the history of Judaism instead… and when I learn something in the course of a project I have a habit of including what I’ve learned in my essay. It’s because I don’t outline properly.)

I am unwillingly being forced to face the fact that maybe everyone doesn’t have to like. have a council meeting with themselves in their head in order to convince themselves into brushing their teeth. May need to up my antidepressants, because GOD do I want my mom’s energy levels and she’s getting them SOMEHOW. Can’t imagine not living on a tiny energy budget. @ Universe GIVE ME A BIGGER ALLOWANCE

Watched a new anime with my younger sibling recently. We were taking care of the house while my parents took a three-day vacation to Las Vegas, and we watched an anime called “I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss”. Absolutely hilarious to watch my younger sibling be seduced by an anime character, the poor dear.

I have been playing so much minecraft with Lex (younger sibling) that it’s actually kind of impressive. Normally I get burned out on a world within a few days, but I’ve managed to play on our current one to the point where I couldn’t convince Lex to let me put off the whole “ender dragon” thing. I was dragged along to defeat “Her Majesty, The Tyrant Of The End” like a very disgruntled cat on a leash: I just want to build farms and trade with villagers. Let me live my small town farm dreams. (The fact that I got a cat early in the game in this world definitely contributed to my not-yet-being-burnt-out. Minecraft dogs are adorable but I’m used to losing them because they fight. Cats? Not so much.) I’ll show you guys some stuff I’ve done later: I don’t make masterpieces, but I’m happy with my work regardless.

I read an amazing Harry Potter fic recently that I think was recced to me by a friend (and that reminds me that I should let them know that I finished it). I’ve never been a big fan of Snape, especially after growing more attached to the idea of becoming a teacher, but Snape in this fic? Harry is like “yes he’s a jerk but also he’s my favorite teacher because ~Potions~” Draco becomes a friend: he doesn’t get a choice in the matter. Sirius is alive and this is Important to me. (A Harry Potter fix-it fic is what began my adventure into fanfiction, actually. A fic about an OC, Lupin’s daughter, who likes to knit with her wand. Lupin does not know for a while, I don’t think. I can’t remember when she—Eleanor?—figures it out. The love imbued in her crafts gives people a one-time defense against the killing curse. It wasn’t the first fic I read, that was probably pjo and I was very careful about not revealing my presence on fan websites to family members, but it was recced to me by my older sister back when I was 8 or so and I asked her for the title about a year after joining Wattpad, which I did almost immediately after getting that rec) I will share the fic link soon, my dear friends, but I have more to say first

I finished a coloring page I was working on digitally, and I think it looks nice! I’ll show you guys soon, but I’m thinking I might add some lighting effects first—I shaded the lady in the picture with no clear direction for the light source because it was easier to think about at first. I think I planned to add a specific light direction after getting all of the details down, so that’s what I’m going to do! And then I’ll show you, of course.

I am planning on attempting to turn my closet space into an office space (my room was originally supposed to be two rooms, so the closet space is actually big enough to do this if I take some stuff out)

I got caught up on Lore Olympus! Love that story.

I’m attempting to draw some patches for a friends jacket: I warned him that I’m really not that great of an artist, but he doesnt appear to care so flowers it is

#Red’s projects #Life Update!#Hi I’m alive #I probably still will not be very active until june 9th/10th or so (when my term ends)#but I figured I’d say hi since I have some things to share

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fingfamily-blog-blog · 1 year

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Finished with Classes

It's Monday morning, May 15th. I finished my school work over the weekend, and now time is all I have. They only gave me one class this semester, so I took in final papers on the last day, and read them casually over the course of three days. Then entered the grades on an excel sheet, and sent it off to my closest colleague, Ibu Yusnita. While we have been mostly separate this semester (whereas I was her shadow last semester) we're getting along as well as ever. Perhaps she can see the end as I can, and it pleases her as much as it pleases me. I took pictures with my essay writing class. I gave some of them departing gifts - books which I didn't want to bring back to America. They were appreciative, and it was hard, as always, to say good bye. But I just push on through. I'm not making promises to them or anything. And the chances of any of them coming to America are essentially nil, so there's no pretending in that regard. You just have to accept that it's goodbye forever. I do have some minor school things, like an essay writing contest to judge. And there's likely to be a dinner or two to say farewell to all those colleagues who kept me at arm's length for the whole year. As with much else, I'm ambivalent about having a farewell dinner, but one must keep up appearances. And if I can have a smaller dinner with Ibu Renzi and Ibu Yusnita, that will be nice. Still, none of these relationships will continue. This year has been a professional dead end. But, as mentioned in previous posts, the personal side has been far more positive. The travel has bolstered me immensely, and in the next 69 days, I will spend 49 of them on the road, living out of a suitcase. This will create its own issues, mainly with maintaining exercise and diet, but I am so looking forward to this flurry of travel. First I'll visit the eastern-most part of Java, Jember, Ijen and Banyuwangi. Then 9 days in Lombok, scuba-diving and hiking a bit too. Then my last days in Malang, followed by a week in Bali (yeah!!!), just over a week in Melbourne, Australia (where my younger son will be stationed for the next year), and then two weeks in Seoul, and South Korea (where I'll meet my wife before we return to Maryland). Such a schedule is rare in anyone's life. It will be especially nice to share the last weeks with my people. I'm not used to being alone, but I'm not sorry that it's been that way this year. I can be alone if I have to be. I also seem to have been hired again by the University of Maryland. That is some relief, knowing that I have income and insurance again. I anticipate also applying for a work in Seoul, aiming at this point for April of 2024, but that's not guaranteed. Maybe it'll be great being home and I'll just settle in there, find myself a rock and roll band, and carry on in domestic bliss. Recreational marijuana will be legal when I return! In the meantime, I have details to attend to in preparation for departure. I've already started packing. I'm going to ship some things home, so I can have a lighter suitcase, fillable with more gifts and clothes etc. Slow and steady, and someday this will all be over.

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primofate · 3 years

Text

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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#genshin impact #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli fluff #kaeya fluff

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tom-holland-parker · 3 years

Text

I Wanna Wear Your Tie

Request: Can you please do a professor tom x student reader, she’s of age of course, and he takes a liking to her for being so smart and he can barely contain himself with every outfit she wears. And one day after class he asks her to hang back and things get very SMUTTY?

Warning: 18 + SMUT (oral, choking, vaginal sex), student/teacher relationship, cursing, age gap (legal)

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Word count: 4081

Masterlist

Tom knew from the first time you walked into class he was going to have a hard time. Not because you were a trouble maker, he heard from your other professors that you were an extremely bright and well rounded student, but because you liked to wear the shortest sundresses he’d ever seen. Tom knew he fucked up by developing a crush on his student. It was immoral and he could lose the job he worked so hard to get.

Tom had been staring at the email all weekend, debating all his choices. He knew the right thing to do was to report it and let the school handle everything, but a big part of him told himself to do otherwise.

Dear Professor Holland,

I want to wear your tie while you fuck me

Love Y/N

Tom let out a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes, refreshing his inbox once more in hopes you had sent another email, an explanation or maybe even an apology, anything that would avoid him having to send the response that he had drafted Friday night after he received your message. Of course as the hours passed he knew that hoping was pointless, Tom sighed looking over his drafted email for what seemed like the 100th time before hitting send.

Ms. Y/L/N

In regards to your last email I have no choice but to report it to the school. I do, however, acknowledge that you are one of my highest scoring students so it is only fair that I give you a chance to explain yourself. Please meet me in my office Monday after class

Professor Holland

Little did Tom know you were freaking out, spending Saturday nursing your hangover from partying Friday night. It was a drunken mistake, you would’ve never sent the email had you been sober but leave it to the vodka to let you do something stupid.

You had one day to come up with some apology and still couldn’t find the right words. Countless drafts saved in your notes app, but none good enough to express the regret you felt by sending that email. Of course time wasn’t on your side and the hours moved faster than usual. Finally it was Monday afternoon and you sat in your door waiting for your final class of the day, his class

“Maybe if you just tell him it was a mistake he’ll understand” Your roommate Kendra laughed as she looked at your computer, you’d been rereading the email for hours, hoping it would go away. Glancing at the clock you sighed, “I have his class in an hour, how am I going to face him”

“You could skip”

“I’m already in enough trouble as it is I can’t skip class” You sighed, closing the laptop as you moved to put on your shoes, “I’ll just give the best apology he’s ever heard of and hopefully it’ll all work out”

Kendra chuckled, “who knows maybe you’ll get exactly what you wanted”. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll text you after class”

///

Tom watched as you entered class, his eyes trailing over your outfit, you were wearing his favorite dress, white with blue flowers. He chuckled at your innocent appearance but frowned when he noticed you taking a seat in the back instead of your usual seat in the front.

You showed up to class right on time, looking at your feet to avoid any eye contact with Tom. It was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was that stupid email. It didn’t help that he was wearing a tie today, the same tie you’d imagine him gagging you with on most nights. You shook your head trying to focus on forming an apology that wasn’t absolutely pathetic

“Alright class is over, If you have any questions about the assignment you can” his gaze shifted towards you, “email me”

Your eyes widened as you distracted yourself by putting your things in your bag. As if the universe wanted to see you completely embarrass yourself in front of the teacher you’d been crushing on all semester, you piled out the class with the rest of the students, trudging down the hallway towards his office. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, pacing back and forth as you tried to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you knocked on the door

“Come in” You heard his muffled voice from behind the door. You took a deep breath as you twisted the door knob walking into the well lit office.

“Hi Professor, you said you needed to see me” You say trying to seem innocent. He cleared his throat pointing to the leather seat in front of his desk, “Please have a seat”

Slowly you make your way to the seat, placing your bag on the floor as you stare at him. Tom took a deep breath, opening the email as he passed you his laptop, “When I get an email from my brightest student I expected a question about her latest essay not this”

Your face heated in embarrassment as you handed him the laptop, “Professor I’m so sorry I was very drunk Friday night and I know that isn’t an excuse but I didn’t mean to send that. If I could take it back I would just please don’t report this”

Tom watched as tears slowly began to trail down your face, “y/n I’m not going to report you”.

You looked at him in disbelief, “Seriously”

“but you’re not getting off that easily” He closed his laptop, “You’ll be spending the week and your weekend helping me grade papers”

You let out a sigh of relief, “thank you professor I’m really sorry it ever happened”

Tom chuckled, “You’re one of the smartest girls in my class. I would hate to see you get in trouble because of one drunk mistake” You wiped your tears away, feeling yourself relax now that you knew you weren’t going to be in too much trouble. “After all you’re only young once, just try to keep your thoughts in a diary and not your emails”

You chuckled, picking up your bag as you got up to leave, “will do professor”

///

Tom instantly regretted his decision. Don’t get him wrong, having the extra help was amazing but it was hard to concentrate when all you wore were short dresses. He spent all week sitting at his desk, too afraid to get up for fear that his body would betray him and you see the hard on he was trying desperately to get rid of. Seeing you in class was hard enough but when he watched you in what seemed like your natural element it changed something in him.

He watched as you sat on the couch in his office, your hair tied back and your glasses slowly sliding down your face, every once in a while you had to push them back in place. Tom couldn’t help but smile at the faces you made while reading the essays, a look of annoyance when you read over an obvious mistake or the way your eyebrows furrowed when you wrote the feedback. He tried his hardest to keep his laughter inside whenever you got distracted and drew little faces in the margins. He hated to admit it, it made him feel terrible, but he was a professor falling for his student

“Professor I’m not sure about this” You said getting up from the couch as you walked towards his desk. Your voice knocked him out of his trance as he watched you hand the paper to him, “See the evidence goes along with the topic sentence but the explanation is still choppy”

You watched as Tom took the paper from you, your breathing hitching when his hands grazed over yours. You shook your head reminding yourself that you were already here because your stupid feelings and if you kept letting yourself indulge in what was supposed to be your punishment you were going to end up in the deans office.

“I see what you mean,” Tom said looking over the paper, “just circle the paragraph and place it in the pile and I’ll look over it later.” He looked up, surprised to see how close you were to him, your chest inches away from his face. It was just his luck that you decided to wear a low cut dress today.

“Okay” You replied, taking the paper from him as you slowly moved back to the couch. Tom glanced at the clock noticing how late it was getting, “Well it’s getting late and you probably want to spend the you weekend somewhere way entertaining than here so you can leave, punishment over”

“Are you sure? I still owe you two more days and it doesn’t feel fair to end my punishment early” You said, grabbing another paper. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stay because it actually felt unfair or if you really just wanted an excuse to keep spending time with him.

“Well if you insist, '' he chuckled, a part of him happy that you weren’t eager to leave, “But we can finish this tomorrow afternoon, I’ll walk you out”

You gathered your things, meeting Tom at the door where he waited for you, his hand resting on your back as he guided you out the room, locking the door behind him. “It’s dark, I’ll walk you to your car, Where are you parked?” Tom said looking at the parked cars on the street

“I don’t drive” You said awkwardly, “But my dorm is only a few blocks away from here I don’t mind walking”

Tom shook his head, “No way I’m letting you walk, it's too dangerous, I’ll drive you.” You watched as he took his keys out his pocket unlocking the black BMW parked across the street.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way” you looked down on your feet, here you were again too flustered to even look at him. Tom chuckled at your nervousness, “Don’t worry about it. I insist on it.” Your breath hitched as he placed his hand on your back again, guiding you towards the car.

It only took a few minutes for him to get to your dorm building, “well here we are” He said, parking his car before looking at you. You glanced at him nervously, “Thanks Professor”

“Call me Tom” he chuckled, “But only when were alone”

You wanted to punch yourself for feeling butterflies but you couldn’t help it. “Well Tom” You laughed, calling him by his name felt weird, “thank you”

He watched as you moved to grab the door handle but froze, “Oh I forgot to ask you about your assignment”

“What’s up?” he shrugged. “Well I know you wanted us to write about how the author uses the women in his novel to display power but I can’t write about that. The author clearly doesn’t see the woman as symbols of power he sees them as sex objects, which is shown multiple times throughout the text so I can’t write about something that isn’t true”

“So you don’t believe sex is a form of power?” Tom questioned trying not to smile at the way your brows furrowed in concentration

“Of course I believe sex is a form of power but for the author to display women having sex as a symbol for powerful femininity the woman would have to own their sexual desires and wants”

Tom chuckled, “If you really feel so strongly about that then write about it, I’d love to hear more about what you have to say about owning your sexual desires. Seems to me you know a lot about that”

“Oh my god” You hide your face in your hands, “I didn’t even realize-”

“Don’t be embarrassed, if you can’t joke about it then you’ll let it eat you alive” Tom chuckled

“Well” you smiled, “I should probably get to writing”

“Yeah you should”

You both didn’t even noticed the way you both began to slowly lean into each other, the tension in the car growing thick

“Goodnight professor”

“It’s Tom” He said with a smile

You scrunch your nose, “Goodnight Tom”

Your faces were inches away from each other. He couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at your lips before looking back at your eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do the same, “Goodnight y/n”

You both stayed silent, letting the tension take over. Your lips grazing over each other. The kiss was slow at first but it soon progressed into passionate open mouth kisses, both of you giving into your desires.

Your hands reached to grab his face, shocked at how soft his cheeks felt. “Wait wait wait” Tom said, pulling away slowly.

You caught your breath, wiping your lips as you moved back into your seat, “I should probably go”

Before Tom could say a word you were out the car rushing towards the dorm building. “Fuck” he said to himself as he leaned back into his seat. He knew he’d fucked up, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he kissed you.

///

When you knocked on Tom’s office door the next day you were even more nervous than you were Monday. You were too embarrassed and instead of facing the problem head on you did what you did best, ignored it.

You spent the afternoon on the couch, headphones on as an excuse to block out Tom. If you had a question you didn’t ask it and when you had a comment you didn’t say it. It was pure torture for you and Tom, yet you both chose to ignore the elephant in the room.

As the hours passed and the sun began to set Tom’s patience was growing thin. He couldn’t pretend like the kiss never happened, and if he was being honest with himself he wanted more.

You sighed in frustration, as hard as you tried to concentrate on the papers in front of you, you just couldn’t. Thoughts about last night flooded your brain making it hard to concentrate on even the simplest sentences. You threw the paper on the couch, ripping your headphones off, “I’m sorry but this silence is killing me, can we just get this awkward conversation over with”

“Alright well” Tom stared at you, unsure what to say. Yes he felt wrong but he also didn’t care. He got a taste of you and now he wanted more, “I apologize for what happened, it was completely unprofessional on my part”

You cleared your throat trying to find the right response, “yeah, well, I'm sorry too, we were both in the wrong and it shouldn’t have happened and I’m really hoping we can just move past this”

“Yes I agree” Tom nodded his head, “So how are those papers coming along?”

You shrugged, sitting down in the exact leather chair you’d sat in on Monday, “There needs to be a study group or something, I mean if this is the writing skills of our future world leaders I’m honestly a little concerned”

Tom chuckled, his hands instinctively reaching for his tie, something you noticed he did subconsciously. Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fluttered, “god get a grip girl” You thought as you blinked your lust filled thought away.

Tom smirked, noticing your reaction to the way you reacted to him, “Yes well not everyone has an easy time with writing as you do”. He touched his tie again, this time tugging on the knot a little.

Your breath hitched as your brain went foggy. A low chuckle leaving his mouth as you shook your head, “Well I’m not that great of a writer, I mean I have countless drafts that no one sees”

“Really?” Tom played with his tie, loving how much the simple habit affected you, “How many drafts did you make before you sent that email?”

Your eyes widening in surprise, “no drafts. Drunk me is the best writer”

Tom smiled, getting up from his seat as he moved to stand in front of you. You watched as he leaned against his desk. You bit your lip as you leaned back into the chair, enjoying the way that Tom seemed so much taller than you.

“You know you probably shouldn’t say that to your professor”

You smirked, “There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t say to my professor” You were playing with fire but the heat felt too good, it made you want to know what the burn felt like. “Fuck it, what’ve you got to lose” You thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Oh yeah?” Tom’s eyebrow raised in question as he leaned down towards you, his face only inches from you, “things like what?”

You smiled bringing your lips close to his ear, “Like how much I want you to fuck me”

The groan that left Tom had your thighs clenching together, “Yeah you definitely shouldn’t tell me that.” You chuckled as you leaned back in the seat, Tom’s eyes moved over your body like you were a work of art, “but then again as a teacher I probably shouldn’t want to fuck my student so badly”

Your lips parted in surprise as Tom smirked, his fingers gently trailing up your thigh. Your breath hitched in anticipation but a disappointed sigh left your mouth when his hand didn’t move past the hem of your short dress. “If this happens no one can know”

You nodded your head as his hand grabbed your chin, keeping your head in place and forcing you to look into his eyes, “Words darling”

“No one finds out” You gulped, your body frozen. You could feel yourself getting wet from the power he held over you. The feeling of his having control over you was intoxicating

“And you understand that I will never use this against you? You can leave right now and I will forget this ever happened and we can go right back to our normal professional student-teacher relationship”

“I understand professor” You nodded, wanting nothing more than for his hands to be all over you.

“Good girl” He smiled, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “Now go sit on my desk and spread those legs”

You smiled, quickly doing as you were told. Tom chuckled, amused by your excitement. You watched as he got on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he places kisses up your thighs, occasionally leaving a mark that would stay for days to come. “You’re so wet, all this over a couple of kisses?” He teased

Before you could answer Tom moved your underwear aside, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. You moaned, your hand instinctively reaching for his hair. “I knew you would taste good,” He said, licking his lips. He ate you like you were his last meal, licking and slurping you like a starving man.

You’d never been more thankful that the school was empty on Saturdays, no one around to hear the moans that Tom was coaxing out of you. “Oh god” Your hips shamelessly bucking against his face as he pulled your legs onto his shoulder.

“Tom please” You whimpered as his tongue slowed down to a teasing pace. He groaned, his large hand slapping your thigh, “It’s professor.” His voice was demanding and powerful. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers stretched you, toes curling as he effortlessly found your g-spot. “Professor please I’m gonna cum”

“Cum for me baby” He moaned, “I want your cum all over my face”

His fingers moved faster as you reached your breaking point, loud moans leaving your mouth as your back arched. You could feel Tom smirking against your clit as your legs began to slightly shake.

“You sound so pretty when you cum” Tom said as he stood up, your cum making his face glisten in the last bits of light that came from the windows of the office. You couldn’t help yourself, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer as you licked your cum off his face.

“Someone’s eager” He joked as you kissed down his neck. “Hmm I can’t help it, you just look so sexy with my cum on your face. Plus I’ve been wanting this all semester so are you gonna give me what I want or am I gonna have to get it from someone else”

Tom’s jaw tightened as he grabbed your wrist, “Don’t be a brat or I’ll edge you all night and leave you with nothing”

You whimpered as Tom pulled you off the desk, “Now if I remember correctly,” you watched as he loosened his tie, “You wanted to wear this.” You nodded your head, watching as he took off the blue and white tie, taking a deep breath as he placed it around your neck.

“And as much as I love you in this dress, I think I’d prefer for you to be out of it” He smirked. You chuckled, turning around so he could unzip the dress, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Tom’s arms snaked around your body he pulled your back into his. His fingers playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling the sensitive area. You bit your lip, rubbing your ass against his hard on, your pussy desperate for more attention.

“Professor” You wined, “I want you”

“So needy baby” He chuckled against your skin as he kissed up your shoulder and neck, “Don’t worry, you’ve been a good girl I won’t tease you too much”

Your head rested against his shoulder as his hand twisted the tie, making it tighter around your throat, “Is this okay?” You nodded, wincing when his hand roughly slapped your ass, “Come on sweetheart you're smart enough to know that when I ask a question I expect an answer. Now use your words”

“Yes Professor” You said moaning as his hand gently rubbed the area he’d just hit. Tom quickly unbuckled his pants, pushing them down as he aligned himself with you. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock on your clit, loving the low whimpers that escaped your mouth as your hips jolted up.

Tom’s grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down into the desk as he bottomed you out. You moaned loudly as he began to thrust into you, “This is what you wanted right? Your professor fucking you like a slut”

You gripped the desk, trying your best to keep your balance. Tom gripped the tie again, the fabric pulling your head back. “Faster please Professor” You begged as you moved your hips.

His hips sped up as his hand moved in front of you tracing figure eights on your clit. You became light headed from how tight the tie was but you couldn’t care less it all felt too good. “Sir Please It’s too much I’m gonna cum”

“Go on baby cum on my cock, give it to me” Tom sped up, becoming needier as he came closer to cumming. He pulled your body into his, fucking up into you as he kissed the harsh line where the tie met your skin. The sensation was too much for you as you came, your walls squeezing Tom, milking his cock of all his cum as he came shortly after you.

Your body went limp, leaning against the desk so you didn’t fall to the floor. Tom sighed, pulling out of you, groaning when he saw his cum leaking out your abused hole. “You did so good” Tom whispered as he kissed up your spine, “Such a good girl for me”

You slowly got up, turning around to face him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom smiled, picking you up and moving you to the couch, where you sat cuddled in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, still placing kisses all over your body

“I’m cold” You said, your head resting against his shoulder. He chuckled, quickly grabbing his jacket from his chair before returning to your tired body. You laid in his lap with his jacket wrapped around you, Tom’s hand running up and down your spine as he kissed your forehead.

You glanced at the clock, “it’s getting late”

Tom sighed, “let’s just stay like this for a little while, then we’ll get you dressed and I’ll drive you to your dorm”

1K notes · View notes

bratkook · 4 years

Text

girls like you. (m) kth

‘swear to god she's a blessing and a curse, should’ve learned from you’

pairing. taehyung x reader genre. smut, some plot (not really) word count. 26k warnings. three separate smut scenes: masturbation in a public bathroom, handjob, exhibitionism on a bus, tae creeps on oc’s nudes, brief mentions of oc being a sex worker, dirty talk, messy sex, praising, grinding, pussy job, cum swallowing, overstimulation, forced orgasms, oral (m. receiving), fingering, begging, use of sex toys (hitachi), color system, use of safe word (yellow not red), crying, edging, choking, cockwarming, oc is very much straight forward and ‘in charge’ but def not a dom summary. girls like you were the ones he desired from afar. girls like you weren’t the girls you take home to mother. girls like you knew the power they had over a boy like him and fuck, did he love it. note. this is a reupload of an older story that i took down to be re-edited. it’s essentially pure filth with some plot and it’s mostly an excuse to write something where Taehyung is a little submissive compared to the reader. also 100% inspired by the song girls like u by blackbear. please let me know your thoughts on this thank u ilysm !!

The daily commute from his home to university was always long and boring to put it simply. The monotonous routine was something he could do with his eyes closed. It started the same every morning, waking up with sleep still heavy on his lids, grabbing a quick bite to eat from the convenience store by the bus stop, and waiting in the differing degrees of weather until the hunk of metal creeped up the street.

There was one plus to dragging himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of five am in order to catch the bus on time—really why did he ever think choosing morning classes was the way to go—regardless, the blessing came in the form of a near empty bus the second he stepped on.

Considering he was one of the first stops for this route, he’s lucky enough to always snag a seat. It's the same seat every time and he’s almost positive the regular riders knew this by now. Snagging a seat meant he could tuck his headphones in, rest his head against the window of the bus and pretend the way his head bounced back from the potholes wasn’t killing the last remaining brain cells he had.

What difference would a few brain cells be in the grand scheme of things? He couldn’t care less, always more focused on whatever was on his phone. The brightness was dimmed to an appropriate setting to not burn his dry eyes, strands of hair covering his face as he looked down at his lap, fingers scrolling robotically through his instagram feed and then switching over to his twitter.

It must have been a sign from god that made instagram crash that morning, causing an influx of annoying ‘is instagram down for anyone else or just me’ tweets that made him roll his eyes and choose to lock his phone and lift his head up from its permanent downcast position. He was getting a mean case of tech neck anyways, rolling his head and shoulders to release the awkward tension lingering in his muscles.

That’s when he noticed the eyes staring right at him. Had he looked up more often he would have known that those exact eyes had been watching him intently for weeks now, sitting and hoping he would eventually look up. He’s half expecting you to look away, embarrassed by being caught blatantly staring at him but instead, you tilted your head slightly and gave him a sly smirk, almost as if you’re taunting him to look away. And that’s exactly what he does, his eyes darting away and apparently his whole head wanted to follow, ramming against the window with a nice whack.

Great. Good going man.

He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, refusing to look up because he could just picture you laughing at him. Hell, maybe you were recording him with the purpose to post once instagram decided to get it’s shit together. With that in mind, it didn’t take much debating before he decided that repetitive tweets were more entertaining than making eye contact with you again, unlocking his phone and beginning the endless scrolling once more.

The long ride allowed him to eventually push his embarrassment aside, eyes lazily skimming the words on his screen, not digesting anything he’s reading. It’s not until the bus jolted forward at his stop that he took a chance and looked over at you quickly, noticing you were already up by the front, waltzing out of the doors before he could even get himself up from his seat.

A double take out the window confirmed that he was in fact at the university bus stop, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket and hurrying off the bus before the driver could get annoyed at his slow pace.

Your silhouette was slowly disappearing through the crowd of other students and he had to snap out of his small daze once he lost you entirely, shrugging his shoulders at the odd encounter before making his way towards his first class of the morning.

His university is pretty large, the amount of students here bordering on absurd and it’s the main reason he chose to take the bus to school instead of driving because the parking lot is literally hell on earth. With all that said, he still couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen you before this morning. Had you always taken that bus with him? Also, how long had you been staring at him? Maybe it was just today, but fuck, did that mean he had something weird on his face...or maybe his hair looked jacked up in order for you to just stare.

“You good?” The sound of Jungkook brought him out of the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, coming to a screeching halt and settling back into the dust as he came back to reality. Once his eyes finally focused back in, he realized he’s been staring at some random girl a few seats down with a zombie like expression. No wonder she was now giving him a bizarre look.

“Fuck.” Too embarrassed to even attempt to apologize to his classmate, he averted his eyes and looked to his left where Jungkook sat, a concerned expression on his face as he took a giant bite out of his oversized breakfast burrito. “I’m good.”

Jungkook gave him a once over, narrowing his eyes as he chewed his food, a bit of egg lingering by his lip. “Bullshit.”

The look of disgust on Taehyung’s face was very evident, so Jungkook could only smile before taking yet another massive bite out of his burrito, making an absolute show of chewing the meal.

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook laughed, blowing his friend a kiss before properly chewing and taking a gulp of his water. “You sure you’re good Tae? You were staring into the fucking abyss or something earlier.”

From first glance he definitely looked like he was really thinking about some deep rooted issues. His body had been slightly hunched over his desk, eyes zoned out on that poor girl but his mind was elsewhere. An array of emotions had played out on his face, features contorted into different forms of distress as he had a mental conversation with himself. So when Jungkook walked in and saw him in that state he just had to make sure he was alright.

“I’m fine, just had a weird morning is all.”

The next morning started off the same as always. Taehyung only had two morning classes today so he stayed in his sweats and hoodie, stopping by the convenience store to grab something to eat before getting to his bus stop.

It was routine: his feet dragging along the sidewalk and coming to a halt beside the bench, mind still heavy with sleep, until a flash of a memory pops in so quickly it made him wince.

That’s when he was reminded about you.

You had left his mind after his first class yesterday, the stress of assignments taking over the part of his brain that was curious–and a little embarrassed–about your interaction. All that occupied his day was finishing that essay for his biology class, facetiming Jimin who needed help deciding between shirts before his date, and now the kimbap he currently had in his hand.

But as he sat at the bench waiting for the bus, the only thing repeating in his mind was him smacking his face against the glass so hard his brain rattled, and unfortunately, his breakfast didn’t seem as appetizing anymore.

When the familiar hunk of metal pulled up in front of him he couldn’t help the small feeling of nerves bubbling up in his stomach. He felt a little stupid, how one situation was making him overthink little things when for all he knew you’ve been riding the same bus for months.

He shuffled down the aisle after swiping his bus card, head staring at the floor because he was a little scared to look up and see you on the bus already. Thankfully his usual seat was unoccupied—the last row at the back right next to the right window—so he made a beeline right towards it.

Crinkling from his pockets filled the quiet bus as he finally settled into his seat, setting his backpack onto the floor right between his legs. Moving slowly in order to not draw attention, his hand reached in and pulled out the kimbap from his pocket, peeling it open and taking a bite off the corner. His eyes took a peek up, cautiously drifting over the few passengers on the bus with him and noticing that you weren’t on the bus yet.

Okay, my stop is before hers.

Taehyung’s body instantly relaxed into his seat, a small sigh leaving his lips. The creeping feeling of embarrassment faded away now, allowing him to fish his phone out of his pocket as he enjoyed his breakfast, fingers tapping as he scrolled and liked the occasional picture on instagram.

Considering it was a Wednesday morning all social media was pretty dead, so once he got to the end of everything, he locked his phone and just stared at the scenery blending together.

Before he could fully zone out, something made his nerves light up. A small burning sensation coming from his left and he had an inkling of what it could be. Carefully, he lifted his head away from against the window and let his eyes travel over to where he just knew you were sitting.

Yup. There you were. A few seats closer than last time, sat in one of the single seats facing the aisles, staring right at him. His eyes trailed down from yours and couldn’t help but stare at the small bit of cleavage you had showing in your low cut shirt. A gold charm was resting between your boobs, cursive letters spelling out what he could only assume was a nickname.

He only realized he was blatantly staring at your tits when the sudden movement of your hand coming up brought him out of his stupid fuckboy trance.

To be honest, he was expecting you to move your hand to lift your shirt up or flip him off, he wasn’t expecting you to tug your shirt down a bit further and lean over, placing your chin on the hand that was resting on your crossed leg. His wide eyes drifted up to your lips, seeing the gloss shining off of them, showcasing the little smirk you had on.

You were taunting him, seeing if he would look away this time or not, and surprisingly he hadn’t. He wasn’t looking at your boobs now though, his eyes were zoned in on your lips and the occasional pink bubble you would blow with your gum.

Deciding to take it a small step further, you leaned back a tiny bit and let your fingertips graze the top of your chest while maintaining your gaze on him. That was when his eyes shot down to your chest once more, seeing the heart outline tattoo on your pinky before quickly looking around the bus at the other riders who weren’t paying you any attention.

When he finally got the courage to look directly at your eyes you just gave him a wink before leaning all the way back in your seat and deciding you were done with whatever the hell that was, leaving Taehyung sitting in his seat, slightly sexually frustrated and a little confused at how something so simple could rile him up.

When the bus jolted to a stop in front of the university you hopped up from your seat and headed off to your class with a hop in your step, satisfied with your little game. Taehyung could simply watch with a dumbfounded expression, immediately standing up from his seat and awkwardly holding his bag in front of him to try to hide his junk as discreetly as he could.

This was embarrassing. Why was every encounter he’d had with you this far ended in him feeling embarrassed and you feeling accomplished?

Little did he know that’s how the majority of your encounters would go. The bus ride to school was now the leading cause of his blue balls and the highlight of your rather boring morning. He had now started to see you around school more often, whether that was because he was now looking out for you or purely coincidental, he wasn’t sure but he was certain you were taunting him. Especially with the outfits you would wear. They weren’t vastly inappropriate, but it seemed like every pair of shorts got a little shorter and every skirt a little tighter.

Obviously he knew he probably wasn’t the only dude who was on your radar, so it was a little self centered to assume you were doing this just to him, but it was definitely affecting him to the extent of his friends asking him what the hell was on his mind.

“Honestly dude, what’s your deal?”

“Hm?” he questioned, one hand on the lid of his coffee cup while his eyes stared at the table they were currently sitting around in the nearby coffee shop. Taehyung had been zoned out the entire time his friends had been talking about the upcoming party at Seokjin’s fraternity later this week. His mind just kept repeating the scene that unfolded on the bus earlier that morning with you, a skirt that was too short, and the way you let him catch a glance of your underwear when you accidentally opened your legs too wide when you went to cross them over.

“Like, what porn are you watching that constantly has you in a daze?”

“Yeah, send us a link or something!”

Taehyung frowned at his friends' comments, although they weren’t really too far off. He might not be thinking about porn exactly, but his thoughts were far from pure regarding you.

Jungkook was cackling obnoxiously as the rest of his friends cracked jokes about Taehyung being a porn addict, and honestly it was a shocker they hadn’t been asked to leave from the sheer volume coming from the group. Add the vulgar topic of porn to the mix and it was only a matter of minutes before the cute barista who had a huge crush on Yoongi would come over and shyly ask them to keep it down.

“Shut up,” Tae grumbled out, hand abandoning his coffee cup and aggressively rubbing his eyes. It was almost like he was trying to scrub the thought of you out of his mind like a dirty stain on his clothes.

Namjoon was the one who suddenly gasped like a child finding change on the floor. “Fuck, it’s not porn is it?”

That caused a couple of confused grunts to come from around him, choruses of ‘well if not porn then what’ and ‘no way don’t you see the difference in buffness between his arms he’s totally addicted to some weird shit.’

Taehyung sat up a little straighter, a small look of curiosity on his face as he glanced at Namjoon. Yes, his friend was the genius of the group in every sense of the word but he couldn’t have possibly figured it ou— “Who’s the girl you’ve been literally fantasizing over for weeks?”

Fuck.

Whoops and hollers were the next sound of choice from his immature friends, Hoseok going as far as violently shaking his shoulder while everyone teased him and that’s when Eunha finally walked over very timidly.

“Hey Yoongi.”

Yoongi glanced up at the sound of his name, his smile growing a little softer when he noticed who it was coming from. Everyone knew she had a crush on him—including Yoongi himself—so they always tried to be as nice as possible to her. “Hey Eunha.”

She tucked a piece of her short hair behind her ear, her eyes drifting to everyone around the table before landing back on Yoongi. “Sorry, my boss is just saying you guys are being a little too loud and I don’t want him to kick you guys out so,” she pressed her palms together gently. “Could you guys just bring it down a tiny bit?”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry about that. We’ll keep it down, thanks babe.” A small blush tinted her cheeks at the pet name and she was only able to mumble out a meek okay before she scurried off with a giant smile on her face.

All of them watched her round the corner and slip into the employee only backroom, smiles on all of their faces until the door swung shut, and then they were back to all eyes on Taehyung.

“So, who is she?” They all inched in a little closer at Jimin’s question, acting like fucking vultures, desperate for any bit of gossip Tae was willing to spill. They couldn’t be blamed though, they had witnessed their usual charismatic friend go from flirting with random girls and throwing jokes here and there to basically sitting in class in a weird zombie-like trance. But those were only the days where he had morning classes, so they just needed to find the connection between it all.

“Just some girl I ride the bus with to school.”

There was a beat of silence before Yoongi spoke up. “Okay, so ask her out?”

Now how was he supposed to come out and say that you and him had never really spoken, and he didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know his, and the only interactions you’ve had were very sexual in nature, but you’ve also never physically touched each other? He was stuck, only able to chew on his lips in thought, but luckily his friends took that as a cue to encourage him.

“Yeah man, ask her out or something! Especially if she’s got you this strung up.”

He wanted to laugh, really he did, but he also realized that he really didn’t have anything to lose when it came to approaching you. If he approached you and it didn’t go in his favor then he could just move on with his life. Pretty simple right?

That was how he found himself bolting up the second you did the next morning on the bus, standing a few feet behind you as the bus pulled up to the stop. You had chosen to simply stare at him every now and then during this particular morning, extremely PG compared to the other rides, so he thankfully didn’t have the majority of his blood rushing to his dick today. Because of this, he was hopeful he could actually say some words to you that didn’t make him seem like an asshole.

You stepped off the bus quickly, your heeled booties clicking against the steps and landing on the concrete smoothly, whereas his vans thumped the whole way down with a lot less grace in his haste, but he was able to catch up to you nonetheless.

He didn’t want to shout out your name because well, he didn’t actually know your full name aside from the cute charmed necklace you constantly wore, and what better way to garner more creepy points than to make it clear he stared at your tits. So he chose to jog up to you and place a hand on your shoulder, making your body come to a halt, but it was almost like you were expecting it with the half smile that graced your face.

“Hey, what’s your deal?”

Nice first words Taehyung.

You raised a brow at his remark, arms coming to cross under your chest as you watched him with clear amusement on your features. “My deal?” Your voice had him pausing momentarily, he was half expecting it to sound high and sweet but there was a slight edge to it, the sound a little lower in tone than he had mentally imagined.

“Uh yeah.” He let go of your shoulder and chose to fidget with the black beanie on his head instead, his palms going clammy. “You’ve been staring at me for weeks on the bus.”

You were staring at him intently, watching how nervous he was to even speak to you, not an ounce of shame on your face at being called out. The fact that he was even talking to you had caught you off guard. You weren’t really expecting him to ever say anything at this point since most men would have pounced for a chance to get a word in after the first time they had caught you staring at them.

“Does that bug you?”

“No!” He instantly shouted out, hands outstretched almost as if he was scared of offending you. “I just wanted to know why you…stare?”

You nodded along, your lips turning up at the corners slyly, tongue gently running along the bottom of your teeth as you smiled. “You’re nice to stare at.” His eyes widened at that and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that moment. Why did he seem like he was so out of his element?

“And,” you started as you pulled a slip of paper and a pen out of your small side bag, quickly jotting something down before folding it in half. “I’ve just been thinking about how cute you’d look between my thighs for the past couple of weeks, so message me whenever you want.” You reached down and picked up the hand that was resting by his side, your fingers opening his palm and sliding the paper into it before closing it and just walking away without a second glance.

How could you just waltz away as if you hadn’t made him combust internally, calling him cute while slipping in a filthy thought. You hadn’t even cared to get his name before you admitted to wanting to sleep with him, and if this were a frat party and Taehyung was absolutely wasted that’s exactly how he would approach a girl too, but being on the receiving end made him a little unsure of himself.

The tiny folded paper in his palm was spread apart and that’s when he finally learned your actual name, along with your number which was written beside it in black ink and finished off with a heart.

He never got the courage to text you.

Well, not until he saw you on the bus the following morning with a damn lollipop in between your lips. The way you slowly trailed it up towards your lips was just asking for dirty thought to cross his mind.

That was exactly your reason for doing it though, this was like a game for you, he just didn’t realize it and that’s what enticed you to continue it, torturing him slightly since he had failed to reach out to you.

You let the green lollipop rest on your tongue momentarily before gliding it down and letting the tip of your tongue circle around it, seeing his eyes widen slightly at the provocative action.

Taehyung looked around at the lingering passengers to see if anyone was watching whatever this was going down but there was no audience, there never seemed to be one. The only passengers were gathered towards the front, all engrossed in their books or phones so they don’t see the way you swirl your tongue around the candy.

You clearly had the art of seduction down by how quickly he could feel his pants tightening but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued on your mouth, the way you were enjoying that stupid sucker was way too sexual and it didn’t help that your eyes were piercing into him. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. With how fixated his eyes were you could tell what thoughts were floating in his mind, especially by the way he shifted in his seat.

Taehyung was currently hating his life with all he had in him for wearing sweats, gray sweats to top it off. Those are surely going to show the nice outline of his half hard dick when he gets up.

He really should look away from you but every time he tried, flashes of you between his legs would entice him to keep staring. There has never been a moment where he felt more like a pervert than right now and he almost felt ashamed to be watching you. Almost.

This was just fun for you, you weren’t dwelling on this as much as Taehyung was. You only ever thought of him when you woke up for class and wondered how you were going to subtly torture him on the commute to school. You wanted to see how far you could take it before he reacted differently, whether that be him approaching you in person once more or finally shooting you a text.

Would he ever make a move on you? It was hard to tell considering he never reached out and what man would turn down an invite for casual sex if he was semi interested. Would he ever tell you to stop? You obviously would, but the way he denied being bothered by you giving him attention just led you to believe he was very much into it.

The subtle shift in his seat also showed you how much he was into the little show you had for him. He had pulled his phone out, tapping on a new message with your name being typed in.

Why are you doing this– he quickly deleted that, the little line flashing as it waited for the next words to be typed out.

Do you enjoy giving me random boners this early– nope delete that too.

The feeling of the bus coming to a stop made him lift his gaze from his phone and back to you, a small wink was shot in his direction before you were standing up and walking your way towards the front of the bus, your lollipop making your cheek bulge out as you let it rest on the side of your mouth. Taehyung just watched you standing there, one hand gripping the metal railing above you as the bus approached the stop. You gave one last glance over your shoulder to see if he had moved before you stepped off the bus, taking the sucker out of your mouth and giving him a wicked smirk before popping it back in and sauntering off to your first class of the day.

Taehyung once again had a boner pressing against the fabric of his pants and he couldn’t help the groan that left him because dammit, this was happening too often. He was tired of having to daydream about nasty shit to get it to go away while you just pranced off satisfied with how you left him.

He hesitated in his seat for a moment, debating whether he should hop off and head back home so he could calmly deal with the current situation in his pants or if he could suck it up and actually focus enough during his first class.

The bus driver looked at his rear mirror and gave him an irritated look, and with that his decision was made for him. Well a compromise actually, he wouldn’t be able to focus in class when all he was thinking about was your lips around his cock and the fact that you admitted to wanting to fuck him, but he also couldn’t leave school entirely because he had a test his next class and the bus ride back to his house and back to school was too troublesome to bother with.

So he was currently headed to the boys restroom in the building his first class was in, a little more pep in his step because he was finally going to fix one of the problems you caused. Did he feel a little shame in him? Yes. He did. But he was currently blocking that out entirely. All he was thinking about was how great the feeling of his hand around his dick was going to be, and that alone was enough to get him to walk just a little bit faster.

He entered the building and climbed up the stairs two at a time, clearly in a hurry but who could blame him. Luckily most classes were currently in session and if someone didn’t have a class they were usually lounging outside or getting coffee nearby so he knew the bathroom would be free of people, proven right when he swung the door open and saw no one inside.

Taehyung walked to the stall the furthest away from the door and deemed it worthy enough before stepping in and locking it behind him. He took a deep breath as he stared at the wall in front of him, having somewhat of a mental debate. Had he really gotten to this point where he had to resort to jacking off in a bathroom stall?

He let one of his palms rub down his face for a moment, but only a moment because he had a problem to fix and right now his throbbing dick was way more important than his morals. So he shrugged off his backpack and hung it behind him on the hook and slid his sweats down along with his boxers, the material bunching together around his thighs.

Taehyung shut his eyes, not being able to stare at the porcelain toilet in front of him as he wrapped his hand around his cock, the feeling making a shudder run up his back. A gentle tug started his motions, his shoulders dropping from finally feeling some sort of relief after the show you had put on for him. The way your pink lips were wet from sucking on your candy made it easy to picture you between his legs, your lips coated in saliva from giving him what he’s sure would be the best blowjob of his life, chin messy as you stuck your tongue out for him.

He could almost feel his hands in between your hair, tugging on your strands as you picked up the pace, so he mimicked it himself, stopping momentarily to spit into his palm to make the glide a little smoother.

Fuck, he really should have texted you, maybe then he wouldn’t be doing something as filthy as this. Maybe—no he definitely would know what this would feel like in real life, but his hand would just have to do.

A groan left his mouth as he tugged on his cock faster now, eyes squeezing shut as he pictured you sucking on the tip of it, your eyes looking up at him in the same piercing way they always did. He’d like to think that you’d deepthroat him, or tease him, maybe even edge him because you definitely liked to torture him. His mind was flipping through a million and one scenarios as his pace sped up, now hunched over the toilet, the hand that wasn’t pushing him over the edge of an orgasm pressed against the wall in front of him.

His hips started thrusting into his hand, joining in on the motion, a whine felt at the back of his throat begging to come out because of how desperate he felt for his release. The pent up frustration he had for himself, and how badly he wanted to fuck you, paired up with his thumb focusing on his tip every time he stroked up brought him to his orgasm. A choked groan left his mouth as his hips stuttered, his hand continuing to stroke himself rather quickly as ribbons of white shot into the toilet. His groans turned into soft whines as he kept up the pace, the tingles he felt on his dick from the oversensitivity felt too good for him to stop, he was way too desperate for this and it was disappointing that it was over. It wasn’t until his hips and stomach continued to twitch that he finally pulled his hand away from his softening dick.

Taehyung leaned his back against the door, feeling the material of his backpack against him as he slumped down. His forehead was sweaty and his chest was heaving from his orgasm but he was content with himself now, mind no longer whirling with thoughts of you and that damn lollipop. He grabbed toilet paper and cleaned himself up before wiping down the toilet seat as clean as he could and flushing the evidence down the toilet.

He secured the strings to his sweatpants once again and stepped out of the stall, standing a little taller, glancing from side to side and letting out a breath of relief that no one was occupying the urinals or stalls. After washing his hands he stepped back out into the halls of his university and headed down the stairs to go sit in the quad to wait for his next class.

You were going to be the death of him. How was it that you had this much power over him and were so unaffected by it? He needed to do something about this, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Taehyung ignored the notifications on his screen from his friends and opened up a new message, typing in your name before staring at the blank thread waiting to be filled.

Taehyung 9:40am : I hope you’re happy with the problem you gave me.

Was that the best message to send? Probably not, but he wasn’t letting himself think about it too much before the spark of courage left him so he tapped send and immediately backed out of the message, choosing to pretend to occupy his mind by reading the texts he got from Jungkook. The typical ‘are you dead’ texts he would send him if he ever missed class, along with a random text from Namjoon asking if he’d made a move on the mystery girl yet.

Taehyung jumped so hard his phone almost fell out of his grasp when it buzzed with a new text from you. His fingers couldn’t move fast enough to open the notification but his smile dropped instantly when he saw your response.

Y/N 9:51am : Who is this?

How should he respond to this? Were you joking?

His lips were pursed as he stared at his screen, waiting to see the three little dots indicating that you were still typing, maybe saying it was a joke but they never popped up so Taehyung decided to be rational and realize that he literally never gave you his name.

Taehyung 9:53am : It’s Taehyung.

Stupid. You wouldn’t know who that was so he went back and started typing another response only stopping when another one of your messages popped up.

Y/N 9:54am :???

Taehyung 9:55am : Boy on bus

He left the messages open, staring at the screen and grinning to himself when he saw the notification pop up under his text, letting him know you had read the message. But when you never replied as the minutes went on, he started to feel a little dejected, so he locked his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket as he tried to go about the rest of his day.

Taehyung liked to think he was a very easy going guy, someone who doesn’t let little things get to him, but that was just him lying to himself. He was relatively chill about 70 percent of the time, but that remaining 30 percent? Oh boy, that was the over thinking, over analyzing, Taehyung.

“Are you okay?” Solji, the girl who sat next to him in his environmental science class asked him. They hardly ever spoke unless they were exchanging notes for upcoming quizzes, but with the way his face currently looked she just had to make sure he wasn’t going through something serious. She tried once more but when he didn’t answer she just shrugged and decided it wasn’t her business.

He had his brows furrowed so deeply there was a small little indent in between them, his eyes focused on the corner of his desk while his mind was trying to think of every reason you hadn’t responded. You could have lost your phone, or better yet maybe somebody had snatched it from you the very second you had read his message. Or maybe, your phone—or his—glitched and you never got the message at all.

Little did he know you were currently sitting in your economics class, tucked away in the back corner with your phone in your hand as the professor lectured with the projector screen on in the dark room. You were purposely ignoring Taehyung’s message, turning your read receipts on just to torture him further.

He had finally messaged you and unfortunately it was not with a invitation to fuck. It did however paint a smile on your face because you knew he was very affected by you from the message he sent.

All you wanted was for him to be more forward. You knew he had jacked off at school, he had to, so why couldn’t he just go ahead and say that. Spice shit up a little and talk about what he was thinking about when he did it. It’s the little things really.

You clicked back onto his thread in your messages, choosing now to respond to him. Your fingernails lightly clicked on your screen as you typed out a response and snickered before hitting send.

Y/N 11:37am : Oh? okay.

Taehyung felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and his heart stopped, eyes widening to the point where poor Solji was once again concerned about his well being. She was gonna ask him one more time if he was okay but his sudden movement had her flinching back and avoiding eye contact as he shoved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Oh fuck she responded. He thought to himself as he unlocked his phone to see the notification, he opened the thread and read the message, scrolling up and back down almost as if he was trying to refresh the page for more of the message to load because there was no way in fucking hell that’s all you sent him.

But it was. That much was made very clear after a few minutes passed and you didn’t send anything else.

It was almost like Taehyung’s mind was on autopilot. He had finished his test minutes prior, so he shoved his pencil and extra scantron into his backpack before he stood up and practically stomped his way out of the classroom.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the mystery that was you. It would be very easy for him to just text back and get to know you but this was the 30 percent, over thinking, over analyzing, not chill Taehyung, and that was just not the way he did things.

Not chill Taehyung decided it was appropriate to bail out on his current class as well as bail out on the plans his friends had all made after classes. He decided it was perfectly fine to hop his merry self onto the bus and head on home. The plan was not very thought out, at all, but as he rode the bus home he just knew he would have to do some lurking to find something about you.

While he was doing that driving his mind into the gutter, you were leaving your current class, heading out to meet your friends for a late lunch.

You had your phone held in your hand, almost hoping Taehyung would text back with something a little exciting, but he didn’t. That was fine by you though, he was right in assuming he wasn’t the only guy on your radar and although something about him made you want to pounce on him, if he wasn’t going to act on it then you weren’t going to dwell on it.

“Alright girls so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Hani spoke up, rubbing her hands together evilly.

“Be a child of god and go to sleep on time because I have a test the following day.” A chorus of boos followed all around, Sunmi even going as far as tossing a crumpled up napkin at Chungha who only rolled her eyes.

“C’mon Chungha. Just come out for a little bit,” you pleaded, grabbing her hands in yours and giving her the saddest puppy eyes you could muster.

“Ahh, no! You always do this Y/N!” she whined, throwing her head back in frustration. “But fine, only for two hours and I can’t get wasted.”

The three of you cheered obnoxiously, knowing very well that she would end up as trashed as all of you were, but that was a problem for tomorrow night. A problem for tonight however just occurred in the form of a notification on your phone.

You stared at it curiously, it was a notification from your blog that you used on occasion so you opened it up and smirked at what you discovered.

Not chill Taehyung had obviously gone home and did his lurking on you. Nowadays it really wasn’t hard to find anything on anyone considering how open people were on their socials so Taehyung was able to find your instagram with ease, especially now that he had your phone number.

He had scrolled through your feed carefully, seeing group photos with your girlfriends at parties, and an abundance of slightly suggestive selfies. There was one thing that was clear, you definitely had confidence in your body and he admired that.

Instagram only showed him a glimpse of your life and it wasn’t enough for him. Considering Taehyung had an account for every social media made, he knew you probably did too. So he took to a generic search, and even a reverse image search because he was so desperate it was pathetic. But it worked, because one certain photo you had uploaded on your instagram of you in a bikini with your face cut off was also uploaded onto a blog online.

At first glance he assumed it was just a generic porn blog that had reposted your photo, but upon further scrolling he noticed all the photos on there were of the same girl. You.

His first instinct was to exit out of the site and act like he never found it, feeling slightly creepy at what his lurking had uncovered. But the curiosity was eating him alive, so he continued to scroll, seeing simple photos of you in lingerie; never revealing your face or anything else besides your ass and boobs. Along with that were some questions you would answer and with that he gathered that you had quite a bit of fans online.

There was one photo in particular that really caught his attention. The image was a little low quality, showing you with a black heart choker on and a stringy caged bralette that let your boobs pop out, your fingers slicked with something he could only imagine as they pinched your pebbled nipples. The heart outline tattoo on your pinky is what confirmed that it was in fact you in that photo, and that was enough for him to click the heart button on the bottom right to save into his likes for later.

What he didn’t know was that you checked your activity quite often. He also didn’t know that his blog, unlike yours, was not anonymous and had a stupid selfie of him as the icon.

So as he sat in his room and jerked off while thinking about you for the second time that day, you sat in the restaurant and giggled to yourself a little every time he liked a new photo, letting you know exactly what he was up to.

“Are you on that money pile blog of yours again?” Sunmi asked as she chewed on a chunk of butter soaked bread.

“Yes,” you responded simply, taking a sip of your drink and smiling when your friends cheered you on.

“How much have you made with it?” Hani asked curiously, pulling her shirt's neckline out to inspect her boobs.

You thought about it for a moment; you started that blog to help you pay for school and have some left over for yourself and with luck on your side, it took off pretty quickly. While you did post provocative pictures online, they were all pretty timid in nature, so it was only a matter of time before you started getting messages of people interested in purchasing personal pictures or videos.

There were quite a few older men willing to send you hundreds of dollars for simple photos or videos, but the majority of your buyers were people around your age who chose to purchase access to your private account for a monthly fee. It was always funny to you how some of these people went to your school and either had no idea it was you, or chose to pretend they didn’t know you.

“Enough to pay off my tuition this semester and put some away.”

Chungha nodded to herself, thinking it was impressive. “Get your coin girl.”

The following morning Taehyung hopped onto the bus with a feeling of guilt settling into the pit of his stomach, a nasty churning sensation that had plagued him in his sleep. It made him forgo his usual kimbap breakfast, afraid he’d hurl it up the second he made eye contact with you on this ride and the last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment to add to the list.

He shouldn’t have touched himself to those photos that you hadn’t sent to him exclusively, and he definitely shouldn’t have saved them in his likes. Sure they were on a public domain, but still, it made him feel wrong.

He slid into his seat of choice and shoved his earbuds in, drowning out the small hum that filled the vehicle. Taehyung was so focused on trying to fry out the memory of your boobs from his mind by blasting music that he hadn’t noticed the bus stop and the sound of chunky platforms making their way up the aisle.

You sat down a few rows closer than normal, analyzing him for a moment; his dark hair was covering his eyes partially, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his grey windbreaker, and his jean clad legs bouncing rapidly made it so clear he was nervous.

Perfect.

A smile graced your lips as you slipped your phone out, opening up the thread you had with Taehyung, with your very uninterested message being the last thing you had sent him. It’s almost as if the tiny devil on his shoulder called his attention, convincing him to peer over, almost jumping in his seat when he realized you were on the bus and a lot closer than before.

When he saw your attention on your phone instead of him for once, he couldn’t help but think that maybe you had lost interest in this little game. Maybe he had taken it a bit too far and knowing he had jacked off at school to the thought of you had turned you off.

That is until his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sharp eyes darting up and locking onto his right after, a knowing smirk on your face as you raised your hand and waved your fingers at him.

Y/N 8:09am : Hi bus boy.

Oh god.

Why was he so fucking nervous to talk to you god dammit. His eyes drifted back over to you, seeing you still staring at him, your head tilted in curiosity at why he still hadn’t responded.

With slightly trembling hands he begins to type out a response.

Taehyung 8:11am : Hey bu—

His fingers stop when a new message slides up on the screen.

Y/N 8:11am : Thanks for liking my pictures on my blog.

Y/N 8:11am : Saving them for later?

His stomach drops, mind playing a nice little montage of him scrolling through your blog and pressing that damn heart button as fast as he could. How could he be so stupid in thinking he was being discreet?

Taehyung 8:13am : Fuck im so sorry

He couldn’t look back up, his eyes focused on the three dots indicating your typing. It seemed endless. Were you gonna send him a giant paragraph calling him a pig or some other insult, tell him you had blocked his IP address and would be filing a restraining order on him?

Y/N 8:16am : No, it’s my pleasure.

He stared at the text in mild shock, the kissy face emoji at the end taunting him. Were you fucking with him? It honestly seemed like it considering you had hopped up off your seat and walked off the bus, your hips swaying in the small skirt you wore which only taunted him some more.

Taehyung let out a groan as he rubbed his palms into his face in frustration. What the hell was his deal? He felt like a prepubescent boy who had never spoken to a girl let alone slept with one. Maybe he was losing his edge. Regardless, he was done suffering through this alone so he was going to suck up his pride and seek out the help of his friends.

That was how he found himself once again sitting around the table in the small cafe they all frequented. The six of his friends gave him intent stares at he finished off his story, “And my dumbass didn’t think to maybe not like the pictures for later and she sent me this text the next morning.” He paused to slide his phone into the middle of the table with the message thread lighting up the screen, “And now I don’t know what the hell to do.”

Yoongi pressed his lips together as he shook his head, fingers adjusting the olive green beanie that he had on. “You’re a dumbass.”

Taehyung gave him a shocked expression, the wrinkles in his forehead only deepening when he saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Yoongi spoke in a monotone, his eyes playfully narrowing at his friend, taunting him to try to defend himself.

“How am I a dumbass?”

Jungkook rubbed his hands together momentarily, looking around at the others to see if they were gonna speak up or if he was gonna have to be the one to do it. “Look dude,” he started off when he realized no one was gonna put Tae out of his misery. “You have this girl throwing herself at you, straight up telling you she wants to fuck you, and instead of acting on it you chose to jack off to the thought of her?”

Now that someone had said it outloud Taehyung did feel a bit stupid.

This was so out of character for him, he was the kind of guy who hit on girls at frat parties and didn’t bother getting more information besides their name before he was taking them upstairs, and now that you were giving him that treatment, he didn’t know what to do.

“Not only are you stupid for not sleeping with her, but who the hell lurks and gets caught? What a rookie mistake!” Hoseok hollers out, causing Jimin and Namjoon to laugh along with him, and Taehyung could only feel his face redden in embarrassment.

Jin had Tae’s phone in his hand, scrolling through the extremely underwhelming messages you two had sent each other when suddenly, it dinged and a new image popped up at the bottom. “Oh wow!”

That caught everyone's attention, all of them leaning over to try to get a glimpse at whatever Jin had seen but he had already locked the phone, the screen turning black and blocking the guys from seeing the teasing picture you had sent Taehyung out of boredom.

“Aw c’mon, what was it?” Jimin whined, staring at the still locked phone that was now in Taehyung’s hands, hands itching to grab the device.

Taehyung sighed. Did he even want to know?

One glance from Jin told him he sure as hell should, so he dimmed the brightness of his phone before he unlocked it to open up your message. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes made out the image, almost causing him to choke on his spit and make a bigger fool out of himself in front of his friends.

There, sitting all nice and pretty in your thread of messages, was a photo of your thighs spread open, your fingers lifting up the tiny skirt you had on today to reveal a small sliver of the black lace panties you had on. Very suggestive, clearly intent to tease him.

‘Just for you’, was the only message you had written underneath, no indication that you would send anything else. Taehyung could only stare at the photo in awe, eyes trailing down the smooth skin of your thighs, desperately wanting to zoom in, but he knew his friends would only clown him further. It was pretty timid in nature but still just as sexy.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned out, locking his phone and letting his head fall onto the wooden table like deadweight. No one had any reaction to the rattle of the table, simply stabilizing their drinks as they observed their friend having what appears to be a mental breakdown.

“What did she send him?” Yoongi whispered to Jin.

“Something mildly NSFW.”

At that, Yoongi reached over and jostled his whole body with force. “Get the fuck up you imbecile. Respond to her!”

“What am I supposed to say?” Tae slurred, cheek smushed against the table and muffling his words.

“Fucking anything is better than the silent treatment dude. Like she just took time out of her day to send you something. You gotta at least tell her she looks hot, or that you like the picture.” Jungkook rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious response, and honestly it was, this was sexting 101.

“You’re right, I guess.” Taehyung lifted himself back up and unlocked his phone once more, staring at the screen with a distraught expression. “The fuck do I say though?”

Hoseok hummed in thought, tapping his chin as he stared at the lid of his cup. “Depends, what kinda photo was it? Full nude or like a tease?”

“A tease.”

“Oh! Tell her something like, she’s gonna be the death of you, or something along those lines. I’m sure she hears she’s hot all the time, so that's too basic.” Jimin speaks up proudly, his smile widening when Taehyung nods and begins typing out a response with slightly shaky fingers and hits send.

The little sound of the message being sent causes the whole group to let out a sigh of relief, slumping back into their seats and taking sips of their drinks.

“Who knew we’d have to resort to coaching Kim Taehyung on how to sext.” Namjoon snorts, earning a couple of laughs in return, and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh too because honestly how ridiculous.

The conversation flows easily once Jungkook starts talking, everyone momentarily forgetting about Taehyung’s situation, which he was grateful for. The current topic at hand was the party that Jungkook and Hoseok were having in a few days at their new apartment, but his attention was taken away from that when he shockingly received another text from you.

Y/N 7:36pm :Now we can’t have you dying on me.

Y/N 7:36pm : In the mood for some drinks? A couple of friends and I are going out tonight.

Y/N 7:37pm : You should come.

He stared at his phone in thought. Fuck, he wanted to go so bad, but because he had spent all day yesterday jerking off to the thought of you he had procrastinated an assignment that was due tonight. Not chill Taehyung was going to be his downfall.

Taehyung 7:40pm : I wish I could, I have a deadline at 11

Taehyung 7:40pm : Next time?

On the other side of the screen, you were laying in bed in the same outfit you had on earlier, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt as you read his response, a small smile on your face.

In all honesty you weren’t even expecting him to respond to your photo anyways, so this caught you off guard.

Y/N 7:42pm : I’m holding you to that bus boy.

So as you went out with your friends, throwing back shots and dancing your life away to the song playing at the club you guys loved, Taehyung sat at home typing out a bullshit paper as his phone watched your instagram story from time to time.

By the time he was calling it a night after he turned in his assignment you were still posting videos of your friends dancing and pouring drinks into your mouth straight from the bottle. You clearly knew how to have a good time and he couldn’t help but feel a tiny twinge of regret at not going out when you had invited him to.

That same regret seeps into the following morning, rewatching your stories and imagining how much fun he would have had if he decided to forget his assignments and go out with you. It’s safe to say that he was honestly not expecting you to hop on at your usual stop, mainly because he knew from your posts that you didn’t call it a night until 4am and it was currently 7:20am. So, when he saw you step on the bus, he was slightly shocked.

The regular attire he was used to was missing, normally styled hair now up in a messy bun, a thick pair of shades on, and an oversized flannel barely hanging over your shoulder. It was very obvious that you had just rolled out of bed.

His reaction time was a little slow, but when he saw you continue down the aisle and getting closer to him, he tensed up and held his breath, not releasing it even as you took it upon yourself to sit down right next to him. The two of you being the only passengers at the back of the bus.

“Hi,” you spoke out, turning to look at him as he tried his best to just face forward. A sweet smile passed between you when he finally turned towards you and gave you a small hello in greeting.

That satisfies you, so you wiggle in your seat to get comfy, your hands pulling out a book from your bag and starting to read it to pass the time. Taehyung visibly relaxes at that, happy that your attention was on the book instead of him because he wasn’t sure if he could make it through a conversation this early without embarrassing himself.

You take note of his relaxed frame, his head resting against the window and one earbud in his ear playing some song you couldn’t quite make out. That was when you decided to make your move, your eyes still trained on your book as you let your right hand trail up onto his thigh, letting it rest there for a moment to gauge his reaction.

His thigh tenses instantly at the sensation. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” you whisper, your hand already retreating. You knew he was attracted to you but you weren’t gonna do something to him if he was uncomfortable.

Taehyung sits there for a moment, having an internal debate, because fuck does he want you to touch him, but he’s also on public transportation and he’s not sure what the fine is for public indecency. The inner debate is splayed on his features, but in the end the pros outweigh the cons, so he reaches out and grabs your hand, placing it higher up on his thigh.

“No, keep going.”

It was genuine curiosity to see how far you would actually go, and when you told him to put his backpack over his thighs he knew you were being serious. He listened to your instructions and waited with baited breath as he felt your fingertips trail around his crotch, ghost touches sending a small shiver down his spine.

His dick was already twitching in his pants and you had barely even touched him. Your fingers tugged on the string of his black track suits and slipped behind the waistband of them, trailing down his skin and feeling his stomach twitch at the contact. You settled with palming him over his boxers, hearing Taehyung let out a small grunt at the feeling, his dick slowly hardening under your touch.

He was very responsive to your touch, thighs tensing up as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips for more friction and it fueled your excitement.

Considering this was a risky move, you decided to stop torturing him with teasing touches and finally slid your hand past the material of his boxers, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his thick cock.

Taehyung could feel the blood pumping in his ears as he dropped his head forward with a choked gasp, resting his forehead on the seat in front of him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to disguise his facial expressions if anyone were to look back.

Every jerk of your hand made his breath hitch. Your hands felt like magic, pulling up to twist around the swollen head and gathering his precum before coming back down. God, he wanted to rip his pants down so he wouldn’t feel so confined.

In the perfect display of nonchalance, you still had the book in your left hand, eyes cast down on the page as if your right hand wasn’t focused on his sensitive tip with determination to make him break down. On occasion, you would glance over and smile to yourself at his facial expression, seeing how his eyes were screwed shut as his forehead rested on the seat, alternating between chewing on his bottom lip or just licking his lips and leaving his mouth open as he tried to suppress the moans he wanted to let out.

“Fuck.” The first crack to his exterior had him finally mumbling out as you picked up the pace, his eyes opening up and looking over at you for a moment, needing to solidify that he wasn’t imagining this. There would be nothing worse than coming face to face with his bed sheets as he awoke from a dream instead of you actually getting him off.

But there you were, looking so at peace, staring at him with an innocent smile like you weren’t about to make him cum in his pants embarrassingly quick. “You close?”

He let out a small whine as he nodded, finally losing the final bit of self control and bucking his hips to meet your hand, hearing the small thump of your palm against his skin. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you make a mess.”

With eyes sparkling with mischief, you tightened your grip on him as you sped up, your bottom lip being chewed on by your teeth while you watched him come undone. His eyebrows were furrowed, a small frown on his face as he opened his mouth in a silent moan, something you desperately wished you could hear. Harsh pants of breath fanned across the back of the seat as he groaned, fingers gripping the material of his backpack to stop himself from digging his nails into his palm as he neared his release. With a few more pumps, his whole body tensed up as he finally came, stomach twitching while you milked his orgasm.

Taehyung vision blanks for a moment while aftershocks filled his body, dots of light flickering across his eyes until it all came back, and as he realized you were staring at him in awe he could have sworn he was gonna cum again. Your hand was still slowly pumping him, feeling his dick twitch at the overstimulation but he couldn’t get himself to tell you to stop, enjoying the small ache of sensitivity too much.

It wasn’t until he started to softly grunt at the pleasure that turned painful that you pulled your hand out of his pants, content smile spread across your lips. Taehyung sat there limp, his body feeling like absolute jello, thighs still shaking from his climax. He can already imagine how unsteady his legs will be once it's time to get off the bus.

You stared at your hand, eyeing the small milky beads of cum on your fingers and you didn’t think twice before popping them in your mouth and sucking on them as you stared right at him. “That was fun. Thanks bus boy.”

He watched in a daze as you stuffed the book back into your bag and got up from your seat, giving him a wide smile while you walked up to the front of the bus. It was only then that he realized both of you had arrived at your college, the boring commute speeding by thanks to your antics. With a spared glance at the displeased bus driver, Taehyung shot up from his seat, cringing at his still sensitive dick and the uncomfortable sticky feeling in his pants.

You were absolutely going to be the death of him

Taehyung was weak, bottom-of-the-food-chain, top tier simp material for you. All it took was one handjob for him to be stuck on you, constantly waiting for any form of interaction you would give him. It was pure infatuation—and a little pathetic—but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. It was like his brain was torn between trying to get to know you in a more personal way, or just going with the flow and fucking you like you had originally offered. It just made him feel more confused, and a little naive, because it was so clear that you had no romantic feelings for him.

This experience had filled Taehyung with a small sense of guilt, he now knew how the girls he treated this way felt. The constant stringing along and nonchalant carefree aura he would have when he would hook up with girls who clearly wanted more, it was fucking frustrating being on the receiving end and even more frustrating because he knew if he really wanted it to stop all he had to do was ask.

But Taehyung couldn’t get himself to ask you to stop. You had a grasp on him, and you did it so easily, which is why when he didn’t see you on the bus the following day he felt his heart drop a little.

Sure, he hadn’t noticed you prior but considering it had been a few weeks of constant contact in one form or another, he just found it a little odd now. His hand was twitching with the urge to send you a text and ask if you were feeling okay but he stopped himself in fear of sounding like a clingy mess.

“Any progress on the mystery babe?” Jungkook asked as they waited in line at the fast food joint near school.

Taehyung smirked a little at that, memories of yesterday's random handjob coming back to mind. “Sort of.”

Jungkook scoffed, “Sort of? Dude c’mon, just shoot her a text and tell her you wanna hang out, or be blunt and ask her to fuck.”

In retrospect that would be the typical route Taehyung would take, but there was something about you being so in control of this dynamic that had him so unsure of himself. “Look man, she’s different.”

“Oh no—“ And immediately Taehyung knew how that had come out. “Do not say you like her. You barely know her.”

He raised his hands in front of him, “No! Not like that Kook! I just mean that I don’t know how to act.” He let out a sigh, feeling annoyed with himself with this entire situation. “I hope I don’t sound like a total douchebag saying this, but I’m used to girls who let me take charge in situations you know?”

Jungkook nodded, staring at his friend as he spoke, “Girls that basically follow me around and let me decide if I wanna keep them around—and I hate how I sound speaking like that—but it’s the only way I can explain it.” He let out another defeated sigh, definitely something that had become a common form of expression for him. “She doesn’t do that shit, and I don’t know how to act like myself because of it.”

The younger man nodded again, knowing exactly what he meant. “I knew a girl like that, honestly the best two months of my life. Look dude, if she's making it clear that she doesn’t want anything serious then what's the dilemma? She’s confident in herself and you shouldn’t feel intimidated by that.”

Taehyung hummed at that, he was right as Jungkook continued, “And who knows, maybe she’ll help you realize that chains and whips excite you.”

And there was typical Jeon Jungkook. “I fucking hate you.”

Jungkook let out a cackle before turning his attention to the poor cashier who unfortunately had to hear the end of his statement. As he ordered for himself and Taehyung, the latter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was half expecting it to be a message from Hoseok asking him some dumb question, so when he saw your name on his screen he thought he was hallucinating.

Y/N 12:17pm : Hope you didn’t miss me too much today

Y/N 12:17pm : Come to this

Y/N 12:17pm : You promised me next time bus boy

Attached to the messages was a photo of a party flyer he was very familiar with. It was the silly flyer Jungkook had spent around 5 minutes making to promote their party tomorrow night, and the fact that you had come across it either meant it really got around or you had a mutual friend.

He looked up momentarily as Jungkook tapped him, motioning for him to follow to an empty table as they waited for the food. Taehyung blindly walked behind him, eyes downcast on his screen as he typed a response.

Taehyung 12:19pm : I’ll be there

Your response was instant and it caught him off guard because you usually lagged on messages.

Y/N 12:19pm : I’ll be waiting

But it seemed like Taehyung would be the one waiting. He was standing at the corner of the living room with a drink in his hand and his phone in the other, waiting for you to text him as his eyes scanned the current room.

Jungkook stood beside him, animatedly talking to a cute girl who had grabbed his interest, too busy to notice his friend eyeing the room like a hawk. Taehyung wanted to wander off and find someone for himself, but the idea that you would eventually be here kept him glued to one spot.

It was nearing midnight and people were already making messes of themselves, passed out on the couch and some even on the front lawn. Jungkook and Hoseok’s new place was more spacious than their last, but it was definitely overcrowding so people were coming in and out frequently from the front to the backyard to get some fresh air.

“I'm gonna go get another drink.” He told Jungkook, who waved him off and continued his conversation while Taehyung made his way to the kitchen.

He used the same cup he had in his hand and filled it up with vodka and cranberry juice, his favorite drink of choice right next to drinking it straight. Then suddenly, it was like a magnet forced him to look up and over his shoulder, and that's when he spotted you and your group of friends.

You all walked in with big smiles on your faces, one of your friends walking over to Hoseok and giving him a hug, and that's who he assumed the mutual friend was. Your hair was flipped over your shoulder as you played with it with your hands, small crop top showing just enough cleavage and your stomach, and Taehyung could just feel himself staring.

That's when your eyes met his, and they glinted with something he couldn’t pinpoint. Your target had been acquired, and as he saw you making your way over to him he choked a bit on his drink.

“Bus boy.” Was all you told him, a smile on your face as you easily slipped beside him against the counter, elbows resting casually on the cool surface as you leaned back.

“Hey...bus girl.” he awkwardly responded, feeling like an idiot immediately after. You only giggled, your fingers wrapping around his own on the cup as you brought it from its place against Tae’s mouth over to your own for a sip.

“Mm, vodka cranberry?” You licked your lips, and his eyes were glued on them. “How’d you know that's my drink of choice?”

“Lucky guess?” He slowly responded back, gently taking the cup back from your grasp when you handed it over, his eyes glancing at the sticky residue your gloss left on the rim of the cup.

You were analyzing him, watching him standing there with an aura of unsureness around him. You see, you knew of Taehyung, had a couple of friends who had hooked up with him, and this is not what they described him as. They always told you he was assertive, the first to make a move and once he had he was aggressive in bed in the best way. That’s why he had caught your attention, you wanted to see how hard it would be to crack him, break him down until he was begging and pleading since he was so used to taking charge. The possibility of having him on his knees, holding on to your every word, made this sick sense of pleasure creep up your spine.

Taehyung was handsome, that wasn’t up for debate, but you could see him biting his lips almost like he had a million things he wanted to say to you but was afraid they wouldn’t come out right. Cracking him might be easier than you thought.

“Did I miss all the fun?” The question hung in the air for a moment as flashes from the night played through his head. Jungkook kicking out some dude for trying to piss in the kitchen sink, Hoseok doing a line of who knows what off some girls boobs and her boyfriend trying to fight him, among a plethora of incidents in the span of a few hours.

“No, definitely not. The night is still young.”

You only stared at him, waiting for his eyes to finally look at yours instead of pretending like he didn't notice you. And finally, they did, narrowing a bit in suspicion as he wondered what you were thinking in your head.

“So,” you began, confidently grabbing his drink again. “Have you taken my offer into consideration?”

He was so focused seeing your tongue lick your lips to catch the remaining moisture of the drink that he almost didn't hear your question. “I’m sorry, what offer?”

A small laugh left your lips at his question. “You really forgot already?” You only gave him a moment of silence before you continued, “The offer that involves you fucking me, or are you turning it down?”

Taehyung froze, taking in your facial expression before answering. Your mouth held the same sinfully evil smirk it always had, head tilted slightly as you handed his drink back to him and shot him a wink before you sauntered off towards your friends who had watched the entire exchange go down.

They instantly tugged your wrist and yanked you towards the sliding doors that lead to the backyard where a game of beer pong was going down. Chungha was all giggles, not being able to believe the new person of interest in your eyes was Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung on the other hand just let his eyes follow your body until the sliding door was shut once more. He had taken too long to respond to your question, his mind had been shouting at him to just blurt out that yes, he had taken your offer into consideration and he one hundred percent wanted to fuck you. Too bad his mouth decided to sew itself shut.

He took another swig of his drink, swallowing harshly with a bit of determination set on his mind. By the end of the night he had to make a move on you, that much was for sure. He was tired of you always having the upper hand with every interaction you had. This party was his element for fucks sake, he was a seasoned pro when it came to sleeping with random girls at house parties. The only difference this time was that none of them had come on to him as boldly as you had, but that wasn’t a problem at all.

Jungkook slapped a palm on his shoulder, making his drink slosh in the cup and catching him by surprise. When Tae looked away from the sliding door and over to his left, he could see Jungkook was also looking in the same direction with a knowing smile on his face. “Oh man, she’s trouble.”

Tae’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, who?”

“Y/N, man. Who else?” He released his grip on the older one's shoulder, taking a sip of the beer in his other hand while he nodded his head in thought.

Taehyung was clearly out of the loop here, “How do you know her?” He mentally sorted through the girls he had seen Jungkook with in the past, even trying hard to remember any girls he had mentioned in passing and you had never come up.

Jungkook took another drink of his beer, wondering how to go about this carefully. He could be honest with Tae and tell him he had met you last semester at a club that was popular with the students at the university. How you had been the absolute best sex of his life for two steady months, and then suddenly dropped him without a care in the world—which would have absolutely crushed Jungkook if he let himself get attached but he hadn’t, he swore he hadn’t. He was kinda shocked and very amused that you had chosen his best friend as your new target, even if it was purely coincidental.

In the end, he decided being honest wasn’t necessary. “It’s not important, just know she’s pure trouble in the best way. Is she the bus girl you always talk about?”

That answer didn’t satisfy Tae but he was too busy thinking about how to make a move on you to dive deeper. “Yeah, she is.”

Jungkook nodded, hearing Jimin calling him from somewhere in the house with a very slurred voice. “Well, I hope you’re planning on making a move on her tonight or I’ll let all the guys know what a pussy you are.” He jostled Tae’s shoulders once more with a hearty laugh before running off towards Jimin who was surely drunk as fuck.

Outside of the house stood you and your friends, surrounding the beer pong game going on between Yoongi and Seulgi. Your eyes were peering behind you, staring through the glass doors as you watched Jungkook speaking to Taehyung for a brief moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing the small mess you might be causing between friends but not caring enough to stop it.

“This winning shot is for you gorgeous!” Yoongi shouted out, blowing a sloppy kiss out towards Sunmi before tossing the ping pong ball haphazardly towards the last remaining cup and somehow making it in.

“That winning shot made me lose!” Sunmi erupted in laughter while everyone cheered at the end of the game. Seulgi rolled her eyes with a playful smile before chugging the last cup and walking back to your group.

“I don’t know how that fucker beat me considering his blood alcohol content should have his ass in a coma.”

You laughed, throwing your arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to you. “It’s because Sunmi told him that she’d give him her number if he got the winning cup. I guess desperation makes boys a little more sober.”

“Pigs.” She grumbled with a laugh, watching as Sunmi and Yoongi exchanged information, both of them looking like flustered children with blushing cheeks. “Anyways, are you gonna torture that poor boy inside all night?”

“Hm,” you hummed to yourself. “Is it really torture if I gave him a way in?”

“Oh please Y/N, has any boy ever taken to your advances that quickly? You’re intimidating as fuck, in the sexiest way possible. He’s probably not used to girls telling him shit like that so he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, but Yuna told me he was blunt as fuck with her when they slept together.” Your eyes peered back inside, no longer being able to see Taehyung.

“Yuna? Kang Yuna?” You nodded, looking up at Seulgi and seeing a look of disbelief on her face, “Dude, she’s the most timid, shy, submissive girl I’ve ever met. Guys eat that shit up. That’s what guys like Taehyung are used to. You spicing it up has him second guessing everything, so I say you keep it up. Be two steps ahead of him.”

You knew she was right, even though this was an exciting game of cat and mouse for you, you'd be lying if you said you weren’t slightly interested in him for more than just a one night stand.

“You gonna play?” Chunga popped in beside you, a grin on her face as she held a white ping pong ball in her hands. You smiled back and gave her a nod, letting her tug you towards the table being set up.

Yoongi stood wobbling on the other side, claiming to want to hold on to his winning title but the boy was clearly close to passing out from the amount of alcohol in his system. That was when another boy stood beside him, his frame towering over Yoongi’s and a charming smile on his plump lips as he tried to coax Yoongi into going inside to drink some water.

Chungha hummed in approval as she took his appearance in. “Wow he’s...”

“Yummy?”

She snorted out, “Oh yeah, definitely yummy.”

Yoongi was bickering with said yummy boy until Sunmi approached him again and put on her best flirtatious look to get him to follow her inside the house. He was done for after that, handing his friend the ball in his hand with a lazy wave, his half lidded eyes trailing down Sunmi’s body as she dragged him behind her. He probably thought he would be getting laid tonight but Sunmi was in mom mode, so unless he was ready to down a gallon of water and sober up, the only thing he would be doing is going straight to sleep.

“Hey, yummy guy, are you playing or not?”

He looked startled by the nickname, his hand coming up to point at his chest in confusion. When you and Chungha gave him a look that said yeah you his mouth opened up slightly before he was smiling again. “Yummy? Wow, can’t say I’m opposed to being called that.” He started to laugh at that and Chungha sighed at the sound, yup she was a sucker.

“I don’t have a partner to play against you two.”

You stepped back from the table with a shrug. “Don’t mind me, he’s all yours Chungha.”

They instantly started chatting with each other, playful threats and possible bets being made for whoever lost this game, but you weren’t planning on staying to watch this go down. The friends you had left on the sidelines watched you saunter away and they knew exactly where you were headed.

You wandered inside the crowded home and let your eyes scan the room, the kitchen was immediately to the left of you, a group of boys huddled around the alcohol as they made drinks, but no sign of Taehyung. Grabbing the lone vodka bottle from the counter, you took a quick swig before you resumed your hunt, ignoring the nasty burn to your throat.

A few more steps inside towards the living room didn’t reveal him either, too many bodies moving together to some random beat playing through the speakers placed around. There was a hallway to the left and another to the right, you chose to go towards the right side, side stepping random cups left on the floor.

A few voices were at the end of the hall, coming out of the only open door so you continued near them, desperate to see a familiar face until you came to a stop in front of the bathroom. You rested your shoulder against the door frame, seeing Jungkook leaning over his friend’s hunched form as he clung to the toilet bowl. Although this was a familiar face, he was not the one you were searching for.

As if sensing your presence, he looked up and over at you, a gentle smile gracing his face when he saw it was you. “You got the invite I see.”

You smiled back at him. “I did. So did the rest of my friends, you know, from Hoseok.” The drunken friend on the floor dry heaved for a moment, making Jungkook look back down at them and pat their back.

“He’s probably on the front lawn smoking by the way.” He spoke again, not needing you to explain who you were looking for, and you were grateful because you weren’t in the mood to play dumb.

You pushed off the door frame and stepped back, hearing him shout out a sarcastic ‘I know you miss me’ as you walked away. “Save it Jeon!” You playfully shouted back. You knew he missed you, he had told you plenty of times ever since you decided to stop sleeping with him.

Of course Jeon Jungkook had been a good fuck, having been one of your favorite switches. Very true to his reputation, he could fuck you all night long with no issues, bringing you to orgasm enough times until you were crying for him to stop, while also letting you tie him up until he was the one begging—but he’d gotten attached.

He could deny it all he wanted, but you sensed the change instantly. It creeped up in moments where he’d ask you to spend the night instead of leaving after hooking up, seeping into him asking you to hang out in day to day life instead of just 3am booty calls. And that just wasn’t something you were interested in having at the time. It wasn’t a jab at Jungkook, he was a nice guy if you were being honest, but that was old news.

So as the music blasted in the house, sounding muffled to your ears, you walked with a purpose, weaving in between people as you crossed the living room and reached the front door.

The fresh air met you the second you pushed the door open, loud bass spilling out of the house and into the front lawn, dimly lit up by the porch light. It allowed you to instantly spot Taehyung, a barely lit blunt between his fingers as he spoke to a taller boy beside him. At the sound of the door opening they both looked over in your direction, the taller one offering you a smile while Taehyung took a drag and gave you a nervous wave.

You weren’t going to bother talking to him out here, he turned into a deer caught in headlights whenever you did so you just walked over to him, plucked the blunt from between his fingers and handed it to his friend before wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him behind you. The two of you needed to be alone, not around drunk party goers, or both of your nosey friends.

Taehyung didn’t resist at all, looking over at Namjoon and seeing his friend had a shit eating grin on his face as he got dragged inside. You clearly had a mission, shoving your way through the sea of bodies again as you trekked to the opposite hallway this time, going for the only room on this side of the house.

The bedroom door got thrown open and thankfully no one was inside of it. Taehyung slammed the door shut behind him and locked it as you turned to face him, inches separating you and you let out a soft breath at the close proximity. “Do you want this?”

His mind fogged over briefly as he watched your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal more skin. “Yes, I do.”

Those were the words to set it all in motion, hands yanking your shift off your body and tossing it aside, leaving you standing in your bra for him to ogle at.

“Better than the photos huh?” you tease with a honey-sweet voice, reminding him of his deep dive onto your blog while your hands slid behind your back to unhook your bra and let it completely slide off.

Taehyung couldn’t help but stare as your hands came up to give your boobs a squeeze. “Fuck.”

He stepped forward, wanting to finally touch you but you tsk in disapproval, shaking your finger at him and it just made him pout. Isn’t that what you wanted from him?

His breath hitched in his throat when you stepped even closer, tips of your fingers trailing from his shoulders to his chest, down to the hem, bunching the fabric in your grasp as you tugged it up and off of him. His arms raised up with no protest as you undressed him, wide eyes just watching your every move, ready to do whatever you asked of him. It was so out of character for him, but that much could be said about every interaction he’s had with you so he goes with the flow of it all.

Goosebumps rose up on his tan skin as you trailed your hands down to play with the button on his jeans, fiddling with it to tease him. You wanted to cover his chest and stomach in hickeys, marking every inch of him up, bruising and teasing him until he was pleading for you to suck his cock. There was just something about him that made you want to see him flushed and desperate.

He could see you lost in thought as you stared at his body, now hyper aware of the fact that he wasn’t absolutely ripped, but you liked that. His arms came up again in an attempt to pull you in to kiss you, but you stopped him once more, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Do you deserve to touch me?” His mind blanked at your tone, the slight edge he had heard the first time you spoke was back, and something about it made his body tingle. “Hm?” you hummed when he remained quiet.

That glint in your eye returned and his head shook without him realizing, no he didn’t deserve to touch you.

“Take it all off and lay on the bed,” you spoke sternly, the smirk on your face growing when he did as you said. His body hunched over and stumbled as he stripped out of his pants and boxers, his shoes and socks long gone beside them. Taehyung followed instructions and laid on the bed, feeling a little guilty that poor Hoseok’s bed would be defiled like this, but when you slid off your own pants and underwear he couldn’t find himself to care anymore.

His cock was already hard and twitching as it laid against his stomach, and he could feel the small pool of precum gathering under his belly button, leaving a sticky mess on his skin. You hadn’t even touched him and he was this riled up already, terrified he would cum the second you decided to touch him, so his hand came to grasp the base of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze.

That action wasn’t lost on you as you slowly approached him, your knees resting on the mattress while you shuffled towards his body. Your fingertips trailed up his thighs softly, going around his cock and up his chest where your nails lightly grazed his nipple. His body shuddered at the touch, and the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the reaction made him nervous.

You swung your leg over his waist, hovering above his skin but not making contact just yet. Taehyung had never been patient, his eagerness getting the best of him, and just as his hands rose up—about to touch your hips and force you to plop down on his cock—your own hands reacted, grasping his before he could touch you and bringing them above his head, successfully catching him off guard.

“You said you don’t deserve to touch me.”

His eyes widened in realization, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a way to take back the words that he said earlier. Fuck, he wanted to touch you, he could see your pussy hovering inches over his cock, and he bet he could slide right into you from how wet you looked, already picturing the feeling of your warmth as he sunk into you.

Your hands grasped both of his wrists, leaving his arms pinned above his head as your other hand reached down, and he held his breath. There was a brief moment where he thought you’d show him mercy, hoping you were going to grab his dick from between your bodies, but when he saw your index and middle fingers part your lower lips he let a groan escape him. You trailed them up your slit and back down to circle around your entrance with a quiet hum, bringing your fingers back up in front of Taehyung’s eyes, watching him stare at them in awe as you separated them and your slick strung across from them.

“It’s a shame.” Your eyes trailed up to his hands again, seeing them clenched together in your grasp. “I’d love to have your hands inside me, but maybe next time.”

“No,” he croaked out, hips desperately lifting up in hopes of grinding into your pussy but he fell short. “Please, let me touch you.”

The begging satisfied the sick itch you were hoping to scratch, leaving you grinning above him. You had just started, yet his eyebrows were already furrowed, eyes locked in a trance on your fingers that were still in front of his face.

“Not today, baby. Do you want a taste though?” He was nodding the second the proposal left your mouth. Taehyung licked his lips in desperation, mouth opening up as you brought them towards his lips, his neck craning forward and wrapping his lips around your fingers to taste the remnants of your arousal. His tongue flicked between your fingers as he sucked like his life depended on it, the urgency displayed had more wetness gushing out of you, and when Taehyung’s eyes darted towards his abdomen, he saw that some of it had dripped onto the skin below where you hovered.

You pulled your fingers out of his mouth and brought them back between your legs to tease yourself further. “Fuck, this could’ve been you doing this to me Taehyung.” You gasped out as your fingers flicked over your clit repeatedly and he whimpered, head falling back to rest on the pillows because he couldn’t take watching you get yourself off above him while his dick lay hard and leaking right below you.

You snickered to yourself, finally deciding to take some pity on the man, reaching below you to grasp his cock. His neck tensed up at the action, head whipping back up to make sure he wasn’t imaging anything. But there you were, small hands barely wrapping around his thick cock as you gave it a gentle tug. Your fingers were covered in your slick, making the glide feel delicious, spreading your arousal around his length and mixing with his own in a sinful combination.

Taehyung’s chest heaved slightly as you picked up your pace, your fingers coming up to play with his pink tip before going back down quickly, hands set to tease him. He was trying to stop himself from moaning, you already had his arms restrained, he didn't want to give you this much power over him, but when your hands came down to fondle his balls he couldn’t hold back the needy whine that left him. The desperation behind him just made your pussy clench, and you really wish he could fuck you, but you weren’t going to let him get his way this easily, not when he hadn’t worked for it.

“Keep your hands there.” You spoke firmly as you released your grasp on them, smirking at his obedience when his fingers chose to wrap around the poles of the headboard behind him instead. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do, but he was hoping your next move would be sinking onto his cock.

“Wait,” he spoke up as you placed both your hands on his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he admitted, face scrunching up when he saw you freeze in your action of dropping down on top of him.

“Oh,” you cooed, left hand coming up to cup his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry about that.” His heart was torn because although he loved going without a condom, he didn’t know you enough to trust continuing without one. “You’re not fucking me.”

And now his heart was shredded, thrown into a dumpster, and set on fire. “What?”

Your fingers traced his cheek softly as you smiled at him. “Only good boys get to fuck me and you—“ you patted his skin in a gentle, yet firm, slap. “—haven’t been good.”

A pout forms on his lips because now he’s desperate, and also confused. Why would you strip out of all your clothes just to tease him like this? Were you going to finish yourself off on top of him and just leave? He wasn’t entirely against that scenario because he’s sure it would be hot as fuck, but his dick was literally throbbing.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you had shuffled down a bit and rested your dripping pussy right on top of his cock, your lips parting slightly as you rocked your hips forward. And then he was gasping, his hands detaching from the headboard and instinctively wanting to grab your hips, but they stopped an inch or so away, catching his own mistake. His fingers remained trembling in the air, a moan finally leaving his lips at the feeling of you grinding on his cock, the relief of you not leaving him high and dry taking over.

Keeping your palms on his chest, you used them as leverage to help you move, a wicked smile on your face when you saw the internal debate he was having. He could touch you if he really wanted to, he could say fuck your rules and grip your hips so hard they’d bruise, but he didn’t. He listened to you, his shaking hands retreating back to the headboard with a groan of restraint.

“Good boy,” you spoke softly, his cock twitching at the praise. He liked this, the foreign feeling of being pliant underneath you, letting you call all of the shots, it was igniting a warmth inside of him that he never expected.

Taehyung could feel his stomach becoming a sticky mess from his precum and your wetness dripping down from his cock, but he didn’t care, he loved when it was messy, loved hearing the squelching sound filling the room every time you rocked your hips. The fact that you were this drenched from teasing him just turned him on more, and he really wanted to say fuck it and ask you to sink onto his cock, but you told him to be a good boy so that’s what he would do.

“Feel good?”

“S-so good,” he whined out, breathy and strained, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to it.

His thighs were tense and aching, forcing himself to not thrust forward in fear that you’d stop what you were doing, small moans leaving his lips when the tip of his cock would brush against your clit. He looked fucked out underneath you, eyes blown open as he locked onto the spot between you two, watching his messy cock peek out between your legs when you’d grind your hips back.

Taehyung had never cum from doing this, it was something he had never tried before; he was used to the quickness of fucking at parties, some fingering being involved before he slid in from behind. But he could feel himself edging closer to his release embarrassingly fast, the sinful moans leaving your mouth only aiding in pushing him over faster.

You had a good rhythm going, his cock trapped between his stomach and your pussy, and even though he was trying his best not to be vocal, you could see he was close to falling apart. His hands were clenching the headboard so hard they were paling, and if that wasn’t enough of an indication his face surely said it all.

Leaning over his body, you let your face inch closer to his as you sped up your hips. At your proximity Taehyung finally spoke up, “Can I-fuc—” he shuddered, “—can I please kiss you?”

Your eyebrow cocked up at his request, not expecting that to be what he wanted from you. “You want to kiss me?”

Taehyung's dark hair bounced on his head as he nodded frantically. “Yes,” he gasped out, squirming underneath you as you bucked harder on top of him.

He wanted to kiss you, your lips looked so soft and shiny, and he wanted to feel them on top of his. Honestly what he really wanted was to flip you over and fuck you senseless—he had the power to—the weight of you on him was nothing he couldn’t overpower, but something about you being in control of his pleasure was doing things to him.

When your hair grazed his chest from you dropping down, his heart skipped but your lips chose to kiss his neck instead, small traces and licks on his skin as you trailed up towards his jaw until finally you reached his lips. They were tacky from your lip gloss but he didn’t care, they felt as soft as he imagined, and when you snuck your tongue into the mix Taehyung whimpered into your mouth. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, pleasure rolling over him in waves that only intensified when you wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked.

You could feel his body tensing up from underneath you, his climax creeping up on him, so you rocked faster, sinking your teeth into his plump bottom lip and tugging back. That was the final push before he was cumming, face screwed up the same way it was on the bus and a rough groan that you swallowed with another kiss.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

Another moan spilled out as you continued your movements, feeling his cum splashing up towards his chest from the force, some of it dribbling down his cock and settling onto your pussy. “Wow,” you mused, lips pulling back from his and looking down to see the mess he had made, his breathing continuing to shudder until you came to a stop.

Taehyung kept his grip on the headboard, a lot more limp than before, vision hazy from his orgasm and entire body tingling. You lifted up from him and shuffled further down, licking the trail of cum on his stomach with a grin when you noticed how his sensitive cock twitched at the visual.

Trying to save face, he turned his head into his upper arm to shield himself, the small burn of embarrassment felt at the fact that he had just blown his load from you grinding on him in record time.

You weren’t finished with him yet though, your body still slowly sliding down him, fingers leaving feather-like touches on his skin that he mistook as you soothing his shuddering body, until they grasped his cock.

“Oh,” he winced, feeling your fingers grazing his sensitive dick, your mouth quickly enveloping it, making his back arch from the sudden sensation. It was no secret that Taehyung had a love for overstimulation, constantly toeing the line between pain and pleasure when he continued to jack off after cumming, but your warm mouth was new.

His sore fingers released the headboard, elbows straightening up because he had to watch this, had to burn this point of view into his mind forever. You were crouched at the bottom of the bed on your knees, ass up in the air as you swallowed his cock, your tongue swirling around it when you felt it start to harden again.

“H-hurts,” he admitted with his hips twitching, not sure if he wanted to thrust into your mouth or back away. Your hands rested on his hips to stop them from moving as his dick slipped out of your mouth with a pop.

“You want me to stop?” One hand was lazily jerking him as you spoke, his dick twitching in your grasp once more.

No, no he was loving this. The pleasure was sharp but it was spreading a warmth throughout his body. Could he cum again?

He was clearly having a hard time deciding if he wanted you to stop or not, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he moaned softly, but Taehyung liked the pain, you could tell.

When your mouth took him in again he gasped lewdly, his elbows giving out and letting him flop back on the bed with a thump, fingers gripping the crumpled sheets beneath him. “No, no,” he whimpered again when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. “Don’t stop, god.”

He could feel you smirking around his cock, your tongue coming out to flick the tip of his dick, red and swollen and once again dripping. One of your hands wrapped around the part you couldn’t reach, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth; the other was dipped between your own thighs, fingers sinking into your cunt and thrusting them to match your motions.

Taehyung had his hands gripping onto the bed sheets to stop them from tangling into your hair and forcing you to take all of him, but his head peeked up, and when he saw you playing with yourself he sat back up, hips finally coming up to thrust into your mouth. Whimpers of pain and pleasure filled the room, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he felt pressure start to bloom in his lower stomach.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle having another orgasm, every time he’d hit the back of your throat he felt the wind get knocked out of him, knees acting on reflex and shooting up to try to squirm away from your grasp.

The want to scold him was strong but you were getting closer to cumming, and seeing him losing control only made you moan around his cock. You pulled your fingers out of yourself, and with a few more flicks on your clit you were cumming. Taehyung watched in awe as your hips stuttered, and the moan you let out just urged him to keep thrusting into your mouth.

His fingers were sore from the grip he had on the sheets and when he saw the drool leaking out of your mouth as you sunk all the way down, he finally felt the band snap, a throaty moan leaving his lips as he bowed his back into the mattress, the pain and pleasure blending together beautifully and bringing him to one of the best orgasms of his life. This load was a lot smaller than the last, but he was completely spent now, body lying limp on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.

Swallowing the cum on your tongue with a smirk, you took him in your mouth once more to tease, pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his soft cock.

“Such a good boy.” You teased as you made your way back up to him with a genuine smile on your face. Your soft lips pressed against his again, mouth opening up and he could taste himself on your tongue but he didn’t mind it. With a little hesitance, his hand came up to finally touch you, fingers tangling into your hair as he deepened the kiss, your teeth clashing together a few times because he couldn’t get enough.

He watched as you pulled back from him, your tongue tracing your lips while you flipped your hair behind you again. “You know, you’re pretty when you cum.” And he doesn’t know why, but the statement made him blush. No one had ever told him he looked pretty when he came.

“Thank you?”

You giggled, still on top of him. “You’re welcome. I’ll be thinking of it when I touch myself later.” You gave him another quick peck before you got off of him and started putting your clothes back on. Taehyung was in a state of shock as he observed you, he had cum twice and still hadn’t fucked you, and you were very clearly getting a kick out of it.

A final adjustment was done to your skirt before running your fingers through your hair, looking back at him still limp on his friend's bed, limbs resembling jello. It was cute, but you knew you had to trail him along further so you shot him a wink, opening up the bedroom door and waltzing out like you hadn’t just ruined him.

The haze that surrounded him whenever you were around him faded as you left and Taehyung sprung into action with a yelp, wrapping Hoseok's comforter around his naked body when he saw that you left the door open. Luckily no one was around, but he still rushed up with the sheets to close the door, legs feeling a little wobbly. With the door securely locked, he rested his weight against it, letting Hoseok’s ruined sheets fall from his body into a heap on the floor, his hand coming up to run through his messy hair.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned in disbelief, balling up the sheets and stuffing them into the small hamper by the closet, they barely fit but it didn’t matter. Taehyung felt lost and a little unsatisfied, he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel completely satisfied until he actually fucked you. All he had to do was say it, you were dangling it right in front of him and he was too tongue tied to tell you how he actually felt. It was like all vocabulary and sense of communication was wiped clean whenever you were within a certain radius of him.

He slid back into his clothes, grabbing the tissues Hoseok conveniently had next to his bed, and wiped the small residue that was still on his stomach before he put his shirt back on. When his heart stopped pounding and he thought he was decent, he exited the room. Taehyung was set on finding you and speaking to you like a normal human being, his mind now cleared after those orgasms, so he felt sort of confident that he’d be able to get out a coherent sentence without sounding like an insecure loser.

Jungkook spotted him as he emerged from the hallway, his bunny smile spreading across his face when he saw how disheveled his friend looked, and considering he had seen you exit from that same spot minutes prior he knew what had gone down.

“Hey buddy.” Jungkook cooed obnoxiously, hands coming up to squeeze Taehyung's cheek, his fingers rubbing off the leftover residue of your lipgloss from his skin. He was drunk, breath smelling like vodka and his eyes glazed over, the classic dopey Jungkook smile on his face. Taehyung swatted his hands away from him with a grimace but Jungkook just slid beside him, slinging his arm across his shoulders and dragging him to the kitchen to get even more alcohol.

“So you fucked her right?” Taehyung accepted the drink, taking a sip as his eyes searched the room for you just like they had earlier.

“Sure,” he responded, not wanting to tell his friend that although you were both naked on top of each other and you had forced two orgasms out of him, he had not in fact been able to slide his dick inside of you.

Jungkook was too drunk to comprehend that sure didn’t exactly mean yes so he whooped, throwing his arms in the air with a laugh, and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile at his younger friend.

“Have you seen her by the way?”

Jungkook thought back to when he spotted you leaving Hoseok’s room, you had a look of satisfaction on your face as you walked through the house and headed for the backyard. You emerged back out with one of your friends beside you and you both laughed as you made a swift exit out of Jungkook’s house entirely. It was pretty obvious you wouldn’t be coming back.

“She definitely left.”

Taehyung could feel his heart sink at that. He should’ve spoken to you when you were both alone in the room instead of lying there in his post orgasmic glow. Too late.

He slid his phone out and decided he had to text you. The black line flickered on his phone, taunting him, waiting for him to type anything out, but he was stuck. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for the orgasms with a stupid emoji tacked at the end?

Taehyung 1:48am : You left so fast, get home safe

That’s what he settled on, and his eyes stayed glued on the phone when he saw the notification that you read it, three dots popping up as you typed a response back.

Y/N 1:52am : Sorry friend needed to get home and I was her ride.

Y/N 1:52am : Think about me tonight yeah? Goodnight busboy.

Taehyung thought about you alright. He thought about you often, frequently replaying the events that had happened that night as his fist wrapped around his cock on those nights where he was beyond desperate to cum.

The both of you hadn’t spoken much since the night of Hoseok and Jungkook’s party, due to the fact that finals were approaching and as much as you enjoyed this game you had with him, you also knew you needed to pass the classes you had. Taehyung doesn’t fault you for that, he was on the same boat, and if you had continued to tease him on the bus or through text message while he was already on the verge of a mental breakdown, he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

So it came as no surprise that when the semester came and went, the communication was once again severed, no longer having the morning commute to share together as winter break started.

Taehyung still thought of you often, every time you uploaded something onto your social media he stared at it for a minute too long, fingers urging to send you a message and start a conversation; but considering everything that had transpired between you two had been purely sexual he wasn’t sure a ‘haha funny meme’ message was going to get him very far.

When the second week of break rolled around and Taehyung started to go out with his friends, you began to slip his mind, the small acceptance of whatever you two had going fizzling away from his thoughts. He wondered if you forgot about him already, maybe you were home visiting family and had your sights set on another person.

With that thought engraved in his mind he allowed himself to go out with Jimin and Namjoon on a Saturday night, the three of them being the few of his friends that lived in the city and weren’t going home to their family for the holidays. They stood by the bar of some club closer to Jimin’s apartment, deeper into the city, a place Jimin swore the hottest girls frequented and when Taehyung scoped the crowd he took notice that Jimin was right.

It only took two shots to loosen him up enough to ease onto the dance floor, and only a few more minutes until a pretty redhead spotted him and made her way over, her hands trailing up onto his shoulder as she moved her hips in time with his. He smirked down at her, her eyes gleaming up at him while her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she’s definitely his usual type. The way she gripped onto him when he slid his thigh in between her legs, how she easily gave in to the way he kissed his way into her mouth, eager to let him have his way with her. It’s no shock that he found himself tucked away in a corner of the club, letting her hands roam his chest as she latched her lips onto his neck while he dipped his hands under the hem of her skirt to play with her covered slit. It’s messy and he’s the one leading the way, it's familiar for him, but he can’t stop the small craving inside of him for something else, something different.

She whimpered into his mouth, not at all shy about being out in the open, and he can feel his cock throbbing at the thought of another girl that isn’t you for the first time—and you must have a sixth sense—there's no other explanation for him besides that when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

The nameless redhead whined at the loss of contact when he pulled his hand back to grab his phone, but he shushed her with a kiss, telling her he needed a minute. And that's all the convincing she needed to continue sucking hickeys into his neck.

When his phone lit up and he saw your name on his lock screen he blanked, eyes roaming behind him when he looked back to check if maybe you were here and that's why you were texting him. But when he unlocked the phone and saw the message you sent, it was oh so obvious that you were definitely not at the club.

The revelation of the photo you had sent catches him so off guard, he almost drops his phone, the device slipping through his fingers until he reacts and slammed it against his chest so hard to not let it clatter to the ground. The action winded him, the sharp pain of his phone wacking his chest had him wincing and it got the girl's attention.

Leaning back as her curious eyes peeked up to stare at him, instead she found herself staring at his chest, her face oddly lit up. The realization settled within him now, noticing that he must have flipped the phone over when he caught it and she was now clearly looking at the photo of you naked. The jaw dropping nudes you had sent, showcasing your boobs with your fingers on your nipple, wet with your arousal; and the second photo of your pussy on display had taken his breath away, but all it got him was a glare and a shove to his chest from the red head, muttering out that he was a pig as she pushed her way back to her friends.

He gulped as he flipped the phone around and analyzed the photo, a deep groan leaving him, because god dammit he had just started to come to terms that whatever you had was old news. You were always keeping him on his toes, it was going to fuck with his heart and his health.

Taehyung turned around and squinted through the flashing lights to hopefully find his friends, spotting Namjoon with a drink in one hand, his other clutching onto a blonde as they danced together, and he made his way over to him.

“I’m gonna head out,” he mumbled into Namjoon’s ear, ignoring the confused glance he gave him. The clear translation being: what the hell.

“We just got here.”

Taehyung knew this but he can’t hang around here with the thrumming bass and dance with other girls when you had just sent him these fucking photos. “Yeah, I don’t feel so hot. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take an uber just let Jimin know.”

Namjoon could only nod, not really wanting to separate himself from the cute girl he had grown fond of, but he would be forcing Taehyung to come out with them again next week. He just watched as his friend slipped through the crowd of the club until he stepped out.

When the cold air hit him Taehyung gulped it down, hands pressing against his face as he sighed and walked towards the brickwall on the side of the club. He couldn’t do this anymore, and with the alcohol numbing his common sense he didn’t think twice as he pulled his phone back out and opened up your message again, rechecking that you had in fact sent him those photos. And when he saw that you had, obscene photos still filling up his screen, he clicked the phone button and gave you a call.

He swore you weren’t going to answer him as the ring droned out, but when it cut off and all he heard is silence, he held his breath, wide eyes focusing on the cars driving on the street in front of him.

“Hi.”

Oh fuck.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He spoke out so softly, pleading into the phone as he grabbed a chunk of his hair in between his fingers.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” you hummed, phone pressed against your shoulder and ear as you lazily trailed a finger up and down your stomach.

“No!” he shouted, wincing when he saw other club goers give him an odd look. “No, but why me? We haven’t even spoken lately.”

“We’re speaking right now.”

He remained silent, not knowing how to respond to you, but he keeps the phone pressed against his ear, the soft sound of you breathing being the only noise he hears—until there's a small moan. It makes his blood run cold, eyes slipping shut as he imagined why you had made that noise.

“What are you doing?” He finds himself getting the courage to ask, enjoying the small laugh you let out as you admitted to touching yourself, so nonchalant and carefree about the fact that you were still the leading cause to his blue balls.

Taehyung was slightly tipsy, his mind whirling as he pictured your fingers sinking into your pussy like they had that night, the pretty sounds you had let out as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock and he groans. “Do you really enjoy making me suffer?”

“Oh, are you suffering?” you cooed into the receiver. “You know all you have to do is say it.”

He knew this, oh god did he know this and right now he’s way too lost in it all to even feel the embarrassment or unsureness he usually does when he’s around you, so he asks—no begs—to finally fuck you. “Please, please let me fuck you Y/N.”

Your own eyes shut as he said this, fingers coming back up to rest on your stomach while you sat up in your bed with a smile on your face, focusing on the object beside your bed. “Okay, I’ll let you, if you let me try something on you first.”

Taehyung doesn’t even care to ask what the hell you meant by that, his mind already set on fucking you, and when he agreed without a second thought you text him your address, your head whirling at whats to come.

Taehyung didn’t even realize when he got to your place, running on autopilot fueled by pure hormones as he got into the taxi and managed to somehow get to your apartment in one piece.

His fingers were shaking slightly as he punched in the code you had given him, the main door buzzing as it unlocked, and it's then that it hits him, he's actually here. He had actually voiced his want for you and now he was here, fuck.

You sat patiently on your living room couch, a soft oversized shirt on as you waited for him to make his way up. You had buzzed him in about a minute ago, so when you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching in the hallway, you knew it was him.

The gentle knock against your door had you hopping up from your spot, slowly approaching it and pressing your eye against the peep hole to catch a glance at him. He stood a foot or so away, eyes squinting at his phone and back up at the number to make sure it was the right place, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of a neighbor.

Once you pulled open the door, you could tell he was nervous, hair a little messy on top of his head and face looking slightly flushed, but he stood up straight and gave you a smile.

“Hi,” he utters out, walking into your place when you stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. He half expected your apartment to look like a sex dungeon, dark and dim, covered in leather with a sex swing in the corner, but its surprisingly normal.

The soft pastel pinks and oranges greeting him is definitely not what he imagined but he likes it, his eyes locking onto a watermelon plushie with button eyes tucked into the edge of your couch.

“Taehyung, do you want some water?” you offer, wanting to ease him into this, but he just shakes his head, turning back around to face you and it's then that he realized you’re only wearing a shirt.

“If you’re drunk we don’t have to do this right now.”

Taehyung heard you loud and clear, but he can’t look away from your chest, every time he blinks he could see the image of your tits thanks to the picture you had graciously provided him with. It’s killing him because he knew you were currently bare underneath the thin shirt you have on.

To be honest he wasn’t drunk, barely even tipsy, the small amount of liquor he consumed tonight was way less than his normal amount. He felt woozy enough around you on a normal day, but he knew he definitely wasn’t too drunk to do what he had come here to do.

“No, I’m good. I swear.”

The determination in his tone was very clear but you still waited for him to stop blatantly staring at the way your nipples poked through the fabric of your shirt, until finally his gaze locked with yours, following behind you as you led the way to your bedroom.

When he entered your room his eyes were drawn to your bed, fluffy and inviting, draped in a soft peach duvet with light pillows, but knowing the absolutely filthy things you most likely did on it killed the small sense of innocence he initially felt. Especially when he spots the hitachi wand resting pretty at the edge of the bed.

You were staring at his profile when he spotted it and you saw the way he swallowed, wide eyes bulging out as he analyzed the toy. Was this what you had been using when you answered his phone call? He wasn’t sure, he hadn’t heard anything in the background...maybe it was one of those fancy zero noise ones.

When he heard you giggle he snapped out of it, turning to face you with curious eyes.

“Have you never seen one?” Taehyung remained silent as he thought, but it's pretty clear he hadn’t. There was never time for sex toys with one night stands in random houses, sure he had seen them in porn but real life felt different. He wished he had, he didn’t want to use this on you and fumble around and make a bigger fool of himself.

“I take it you’ve never used one then?” you ask again as you walk over to it, picking it up gently in your hands and approaching Taehyung thanks to the fact that it was wireless.

He could only shake his head, staring at it in your grasp as your fingers glided over the plastic handle, your thumb flicking it on and smiling when the low hum filled the room. It's on the lowest setting but that didn’t stop you from beginning to get excited.

“Would you let me try this on you Taehyung?”

He looked utterly confused by your question, not at all expecting to be on the receiving end of this. What did you mean by that?

“You mean like shove it up my ass?” He could see you trying not to laugh at him, biting your lip as you shook your head.

“No, it's not a dildo Tae. Use it here.” You reached out until it was gently pressed against his crotch, the wand buzzing over his jeans. He let out a grunt at the feeling, head dropping down to stare at the white silicone head weakly vibrating on him, taking a moment to get over the initial shock. He chalked it up to being slightly under the influence, but he really wanted you to turn it up.

It was clear to see how mesmerized he was by the device so you flicked it up a level, relishing in the small gasp he let out as his jaw dropped. It was barely a flutter of pleasure, but something about it excited him, had him craving more so he looked up at you, glassy eyes and all.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” He felt no shame when he told you that, groaning once more when you applied a hint of pressure against him.

The way your body reacted to his words was pure instinct, him admitting to letting you do as you please unhinged you. He saw it in the way you bit your lip, your eyes roaming his face until they dragged down his body, landing on his now half hard cock with the vibrating head of the wand still pressing against it.

“Fuck, please,” he begged, and when you retract the wand he almost takes it back. That is, until you were pulling him in, one hand tugging at his shirt until he's flushed against you, your lips meeting his in a frenzy, swallowing the moan he let out into the kiss. His hands stayed at his sides, not sure if he was allowed to touch you again considering you had told him not to last time, and you smirked when you realized it. Taehyung knew he would only be able to touch you if he deserved it, your words being engraved in his brain, and he was planning on earning that tonight.

“Good boy, you remembered.” you whispered out, lips brushing against his as you spoke. His eyes remained shut, the only indication that he heard being the small nod he gave you. Your hand inched up from the grasp you had in his shirt until you’re cupping his cheek gently.

“You see what happens when you’re good?” You kissed him again, pulling back once he started to press harder into you. “You get rewarded.” His breath shuddered against your face at the promise of being rewarded, and you smiled while reaching down to grab his hand and gently tugged him closer towards your bed, your right hand still holding the wand loosely by your side as he followed along.

“Do you want me–“ he paused to take a breath when you turned back around to face him. “Do you want me to strip?” His voice sounded so soft, unsure if asking you was the right thing to do, but him asking you this showed you that you’d managed to create another sliver in his outer shell. One step closer to cracking him.

You gave him another gentle kiss, nodding as you stepped back from him, eyes trained on his body while he began to tug at the black shirt he had tucked into his jeans, the material slowly sliding off his body and revealing his tan skin.

He didn’t feel uneasy at your staring this time around, being able to tell you’re clearly enjoying the view of him slowly undressing, your eyes focusing on his cock as it sprung out when he slid out of his briefs. Your hand clutched onto the wand a little tighter, fingers hovering over the power button with newfound enthusiasm, eager to make him squirm at the new sensation. And when he took it upon himself to settle onto your bed without you having to ask, you withheld the urge to clap in excitement.

Taehyung waited with baited breath when you kneeled onto the bed, shuffling your way up his body and setting the toy by his side, his body flinching slightly when the cool plastic touched his skin as it rolled on the bed. Resting your weight on your left hand, settled by his shoulder while your right hand softly cupped his cheek as you inched closer. His eyes looked at your lips before looking back down to his own hands, an unspoken question hanging off his tongue.

“My hands?” Is all he managed to get out, the rest of the question dying when he made eye contact but you only raised your brows up, making him realize he needed to be more specific. “Do you want them grabbing the headboard again?”

Leaning forward to kiss him once more, you smirked, witnessing how such a simple question could embarrass him so much due to him being in a different position than he was used to. “Ideally I’d want them cuffed and behind your back.” He shut his eyes at your words, cock throbbing as he pictured himself the way you wanted him. “But not today. Just keep them on the bed. Can you do that?”

Taehyung felt your lips press against his again and he nodded. “Y-yeah, yeah I can.”

He could feel you hum against his skin, the hand that was cupping his cheek beginning to trail down his chest, passing his navel until you reached his dick, fingers wrapping around him and beginning to slide your palm up and down. “Good.”

He sighed into your mouth as your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, twisting as it came up in a slow motion, wanting to ease him into the pleasure of it so as to not scare him when you grab the wand again. It only took a few minutes until he’s kissing you more relaxed, body sagging into the bed as he grunt softly into your mouth whenever you focused on his swollen tip; and that's when you reached over to your bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube you had with your lips still attached to him.

They separate with a light smack, and you rest back onto his thighs, taking a moment to take him in, the way he’s laid out on your bed, chest heaving slightly while his weeping dick sat against his stomach. He watched you intently as you uncapped the lube you have, dropping a generous amount into your palm and wrapping it around his cock again. Taehyung hissed at the cool sensation, stomach tensing when you began a fluid motion only set on spreading the liquid, but he still groaned because he knew what was next.

You tried not to let the overt excitement show on your face when you reached over and grabbed the wand once more, thumb flicking it on to the lowest setting and pressing it against his thigh first, observing the way he jumped slightly at the sensation. “I know you’ve never used this before,” you start, trailing the vibrating head up onto his stomach and back down to his other thigh, dipping down slightly towards the center but staying off his cock. “So, you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any moment okay?”

His thighs are tensing up already, getting desperate to feel something, anything. “Like a safe word?”

“Sure,” you hummed, staring back at his face and seeing the distraught look on it. He wasn’t sure why the idea of a safe word sent his mind into a flurry, he had never used one and having to think of one that he’d remember seemed almost impossible at the moment. “Or we can make it easy. You know traffic lights?”

He nodded. “Great. If you say green everything's going good, yellow is if you start to feel uncomfortable or need me to slow down, red is if you need me to stop completely. You say these at any time.”

You’re continuing to tease him as you explained this and Taehyung rested his head back, not wanting to see you as you clearly avoided giving his dick any attention.

“Okay, I got it. Green,” he groaned out, and you just chuckled, finally pressing the head of the vibrator against his cock. The low vibrations started at the base and his stomach tensed at the feeling, a tiny whine escaping him, hands having to resort to clutching your sheets again to stop himself from grabbing you and forcing you to switch it up a level.

The head of the vibrator bent slightly as you applied more pressure, thumb flicking it up two levels and enjoying the way he cursed, his head lifting back up to stare in awe as you slowly dragged it up an inch before coming back down, passing it right over his balls briefly.

“Oh shit,” he keened, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, not being able to thrust up into it because you were still resting on his thighs.

“Aren’t you glad you told me yes?” you asked teasingly, sliding it up until it was nuzzled right against his frenulum before kicking it up another two levels. His reaction had you dripping against his thighs, arm muscles taut from how hard he’s grabbing the duvet, stomach caving in as he moaned out unabashedly.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “yes, I am.” Taehyung had no idea something like this could feel so good, he was so accustomed to hearing women talking about vibrators and he thought it was a load of shit. Clearly he had been very, very wrong.

Even though you’re focusing it on the underside of his tip, slowly raising the levels up until he’s squirming, he felt like his whole lower body was vibrating. The telltale signs of his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling only increasing when your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hold the vibrator against his swollen tip. The fluttering feeling of pressure building up becoming more consistent, his breath leaving him in huffs as he tried to force it away.

You can tell by the way his body started to tense up, your finger turning it up another level to push him further. “Are you gonna cum already? I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

He whined loudly, desperately trying to sink his hips into the bed to ease the pressure but your hands followed his movements, his head whipping to the side as he scrunched his face up. “Fuck, I do–I do want to fuck you, god–“ he gasped out when you started to circle the head of the toy around his tip, the rolling pleasure becoming too much. “Unghh, please let me f-fuck you.”

His stomach began to shudder more aggressively, hips wiggling around and you smirked down at him, his face finally turning back up to stare at the ceiling, his brows pulled together tightly with unshed tears prickling his waterline. “Hold it Taehyung.”

He nearly sobbed at your demand, taking in a deep breath as he shut his eyes once more, forcing himself to try to tune out his nearing release. His heart feels tight in his chest, blood thrumming so loud in his head, eyes burning as the tears finally spill over. But it’s too late, the tingling feeling had started to spread throughout his body and he knew he was a few seconds away from blowing his load.

Taehyung let out a pained moan. “Fuck I can’t, y-yellow, yellow!” You let go of his cock, the vibrator lowering in intensity before easing off and going back to trail on his stomach and thighs as his close release faded away, letting him whimper as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment you switched the toy off entirely and set it aside on the bed, soft hands running along his skin to help calm him down, reaching up to gently wipe away his fallen tears. “Don’t be sorry, you did good.”

He sighed in relief, glad that he hadn’t ruined it by not being able to hold off his orgasm, he tried the best he could but the only way he wanted to cum was after he sank into you.

You gave him another minute to come down, easing off of his thighs to tug your shirt off of your body, the material landing in a heap on the floor and that grabbed Taehyung's attention. He looked at your body with desire, wanting to reach out and grab you, kneading your flesh as he cupped your tits and ass, but he's done so well so far so he holds himself back. The only daring touch he allowed is his thumbs gently rubbing against your knees as they rest on either side of his thighs.

You let the touch slide as you bent forward and kissed him, reaching over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. Leaning back from him, you tear it open with your teeth and slowly ease it onto his throbbing cock, hearing him groan when your hands add a bit of pressure at his base once it's fully rolled on.

“You okay?” you ask softly. He looked dazed out, no longer tipsy from his earlier adventure but his mind was working on overdrive, the abundance of fantasies he’s had of you are coming to fruition. He was finally going to know what it felt like to actually fuck you, and he was scared his excitement would make him cum a minute in, especially after he had forced his last orgasm away.

“Yeah, just–“ he swallowed harshly, letting his head fall back into the plush pillows. “Give me a minute please.” You smirked at the slightly pained expression on his face, but you hummed anyways, letting his dick lay back above his stomach as you leaned forward and opted for kissing him softly, fingers slowly trailing through his hair to help calm him down.

Taehyung shivered as your nails gently scraped down until you reached his neck, his hips beginning to rut up against you, clearly being ready to continue.

“Please,” he starts again, groaning as you tugged his lower lip between your teeth, letting it snap back gently. “Let me fuck you. I’ve been good right?” He still felt his face flush at his own words but a strange sense of pleasure also coursed through him when you nodded in response.

Your hand reached down between your bodies, grabbing his cock to tease around your entrance. “Yes Tae, you’ve been very good.” He held his breath as you started to ease down onto him, the both of you groaning at the pleasant stretch of your walls, his jaw dropping while he kept his eyes glued at the sight of his thick cock parting your lips.

“Holy shit,” he gasped out when you fully sank onto him, giving him a moment as you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip at how full you felt.

Kim Taehyung’s dick lived up to its name, long and girthy with the prettiest veins running along the underside of it, the slightest curve of it allowing it to gently nudge along the sweet patch inside of you. It filled you up perfectly, leaving you stunned above him as you adjusted to his size.

When his breathing evened out, you peeked a glance at him, his forehead slightly damp from the earlier teasing. He looked so utterly fucked out and desperate and it urged you on; you were determined to crack him, show him how great this could be, and so far he seemed more than willing to let go of control.

As you start a slow rhythm, you wished you could bind his wrists behind his back, strapped into a chair, wrapped up in the pretty red rope you used to use on Jungkook, or even drape your favorite blindfold over his eyes like you used to with Hwasa; but you didn’t want to push him further, you were letting him dip his toe into this.

Taehyung was so used to being in control, so used to being the one in charge of giving for himself, and when he had heard the way you spoke to him: praising him for behaving, all giggly and soft after you had made his mind blank from an orgasm, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his normal.

His thumb was still grazing your knees, every time he flicked them upward on your skin he could feel your muscles tense as you lift yourself off of him and snap back down, the sound of your skin slapping together filling up the room. They mixed in with your soft moans, nearly concealing how affected you were by this, hiding the small cries of pleasure felt from the tip of his cock nudging the sweetest spots deep within you.

Taehyung could feel his blood buzzing in his ear, the feeling of being buried inside of you going beyond what he ever thought, his heart continuing to pound when he felt you tighten around his length.

“Is this worth you leaving whoever you were with earlier tonight?”

Your words caught him off guard for a moment, having to clear the heady feeling in his brain, and he took a moment to wonder how you knew he was with someone, but then your fingers came to prod at the hickeys littering his neck.

Half moons marked his skin as your nails came down to his chest, lightly digging into his skin and he hissed, hips thrusting up slightly. “Shit, I–“ he whined when you began to grind against him, slow rocks of your hips letting him feel the glide of your walls against his cock. “Yes, so worth it.”

You let yourself lean more against his chest, tits pressed along his skin as you brought your face closer. “Do you think she would’ve been able to make you feel this good?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it, immediately shaking his head. “No—fuck, just you.”

You pressed a kiss directly underneath one of the hickeys, leaning back again and cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you resumed bouncing on top of him. Sinful slaps of your skin connecting fill up the room like it belonged there, arousal gushing out of you when he whimpers at the visual of you riding him.

The whiny pleas he let out proved he’s edging close to his release again, making a heat pool in your gut, and he shocks you when he requests for you to place your hands around his throat. He had always been interested in choking, albeit he always imagined he’d be the one with his hands wrapped around someone but this felt right, your thumb and middle finger pressing into his carotid artery had all the stars aligning in his eyes.

Your eyes widened at his reaction, not expecting him to be bold enough to ask for this considering it took him this long to tell you he wanted to fuck you, but you’d take it. You’d take his half lidded gaze as you applied pressure on his neck, his stomach caving in slightly everytime you slid back down on his length, your walls squeezing him deliciously as he neared his end; you’d take all of it. .

He could feel his mind going hazy, drifting up as every nerve in him tingled, hyper fixated on the repeated raunchy, wet sound of you riding him. Taking note of his floaty appearance, you sped up your pace, tightening up around him as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “You feel so good Taehyung, cum for me.”

He shivered slightly at your words, your hands squeezing a little tighter against his neck, and suddenly he's cumming. His body was set alight as the feeling caught him by surprise, eyes bulging out and a choked gasp leaving his mouth when you released his throat.

He let out a loud moan of your name, rutting his hips up into you as his dick twitched and filled up the condom, spine sparking with pleasure as you continued to rut against him. “Oh fuck,” he cried out, his hand coming up to tangle into his hair while the small after shocks of his orgasm hit him.

When you reached over to grab the forgotten hitachi wand, his mind blanks, seeing you continuing to grind against his still hard dick as you pressed the head of the wand against your clit had him at a loss.

Fuck you’re hot.

When you smiled down at him, your mouth dropping open slightly when you found the sweet spot, he realized he uttered that out loud. Another groan of his spilled out again when he felt the vibrations against his own cock from how high you had the settings.

You give up on fucking him, letting his cock stay nuzzled deep inside of you as you pressed one hand against his ribs while you hunched over and moaned. The intensity of the vibrator had your whole body trembling, buzzing directly against your swollen clit with precision, making your velvety walls pulse around his sensitive cock.

The feeling of your orgasm came on strongly, your hand pressing the toy harder against you, and Taehyung felt like he could cum again as you tightened your walls around him, the sensation making him softly rut up into you.

“Oh god, fuck Taehyung,” you gasped out, throwing your head back as your orgasm finally hit you. All Taehyung could do was stare at you in a daze as you came undone, small whimpers leaving your lips as your hips twitched, chasing the pleasure until you were sighing and shutting off the toy, body still trembling from the aftershocks.

When you tossed it aside you stayed sat on him, breath heaving as you hunched over him slightly. His hands that were on your knees fully came up onto your thighs to gently massage them, wanting to comfort you, the mutual understanding that he was allowed to touch you after sex being passed between you.

After a minute, you slowly eases yourself off of his soft length, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the bin beside the bed.

Taehyung was entirely spent. Tonight had felt like the longest night of his life, and his eyes were drifting shut when he felt you straddle him again, your arms resting on his chest as you stared up at his sleepy form.

His eye cracked open and he grinned at you when he saw the look on your face; it was the sweet smile you wore when you were up to no good. The fingers on your left hand gently spelled your name on his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, your chin rested on top of your arm and you laughed when you saw his eyebrow raise up in question.

“What?” he asked. You were clearly out of the mood that made you want to bind and tease Taehyung until he was crying, wanting to reassure him and make sure he was comfortable after doing things you knew he wasn’t used to with your soft touches.

You hummed softly as you stared into his eyes. “Kim Taehyung is into choking huh?”

His face flushes immediately as he replays his request in his mind, and you pat his chest to get him to stare at you, a small frown on your face at his clear embarrassment. “Hey, it wasn’t a tease. It’s hot.”

Taehyung raised both brows now, staring at you like you had said something absolutely foreign to him. Tonight was a night of firsts and realizations, who knew Taehyung loved the feeling of a vibrator on his cock, and who knew he had a kink for your hands around his throat. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you mused, lifting up slightly to inch closer to his face. “Seeing you squirming while I choked you was the hottest thing.”

He could only stare at you, the gears in his head turning as he thought of what just happened. He never imagined he’d be into giving someone control like that. Taehyung knew it was minuscule, but this was all new to him and he loved it already, his brain wondering how much further you could take it.

“You know, I’m kinda into it.” He looked away from you as he said this, still not confident in admitting it and he knew it was silly, especially when he could see how much hearing these words lit your face up.

Your eyes shut when he admitted to this; it always felt like finding gold when you got a man to confess to enjoying this. So many men were always afraid to admit to liking how it felt when a girl took control over them, no matter how subtle, and Taehyung was someone you thought would be a little harder to break down.

“Are you?”

He hummed, his hands finally coming up higher to touch you and his warm grip caught you off guard. But he takes his time as he trails his fingers up and down your sides, gliding across your back, sliding them into your hair and tugging you closer until he’s kissing you, the first time he’s ever taken control of any situation.

He relished in the small gasp you let out as he licked the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping in and massaging against yours slowly for a brief moment until he’s pulling back. Taehyung realized that this is the longest conversation you two have had in person, and the first one where he didn’t feel like a babbling idiot.

“Is there more we can try next time?” he wondered softly, nudging your noses together and kissing you again briefly.

Your mind was already picturing how he’d look tied up, cock swollen and dripping with a cockring sat snuggly around his base, maybe a thick collar around his neck. You could ease him into trying out some of the floggers you have, or tempt him into wax play, maybe ice cubes if he was wary of the wax. So many ideas that had you squirming on top of him with anticipation, and when he saw that look on your face he found himself smiling with you.

“Oh, there's so much Taehyung. You just have to tell me what you’re comfortable with.” Your fingers are raking through his own hair now as he leaned into the touch. “Can you do that?”

When your fingers tugged the strands, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Pressing your lips against his again, he feels you smirk against his skin, the small sharpness of your teeth sinking into his lip making him groan. “Good boy.”

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #vantaenet #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts smut #bts fics #taehyung scenarios

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gukyi · 4 years

Text

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur.

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks.

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all.

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode.

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments.

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did.

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself.

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half.

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you.

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off.

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything.

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds.

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you.

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated.

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly.

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly.

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you.

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years.

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost.

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about.

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless.

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together.

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest.

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you.

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement.

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows.

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click.

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why.

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair.

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems.

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you.

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship.

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it.

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio.

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic.

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since.

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have.

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows.

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in.

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once.

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this.

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right?

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins.

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing.

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention.

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind.

Another voice breaks you from your trance.

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide.

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes.

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to.

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you.

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you.

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you?

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence.

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them?

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met.

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor.

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook.

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this.

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you.

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief.

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it.

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it.

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory.

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away.

You wonder what he sees.

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders.

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door.

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left.

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind.

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet.

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side.

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet.

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive.

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist.

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him.

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them.

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted.

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing.

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter.

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash.

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them.

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him.

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card.

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black.

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure.

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body.

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is.

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you.

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown.

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back.

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further.

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you.

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him.

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet.

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment.

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester.

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there.

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that.

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk.

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room.

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world.

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well.

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen.

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written.

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now.

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page…

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over.

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling.

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed.

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom.

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else.

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head.

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now.

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over.

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease.

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart.

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you.

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving.

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless.

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?”

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating.

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him.

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain.

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing.

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure.

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth.

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about.

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out.

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process.

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world.

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious.

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side.

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her.

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

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#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #w: the love project #yes i am finishing this at 6am on the day its meant to be posted... MIND UR OWN BUSINESS

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