#as usual the everything between those three are messy in a way that makes every one of them embarrassed to bring it up lmao

[b4kuch1n]

yay! I drew these quite literally three years ago. dragonheart!milo and raihan! a knight on a doomed dragon hunt being lifted out of his station by a small village medicine man. together they become magic lawyers and overthrow the government

the main details in these do survive into the iterations I’ve drawn (instead of these actual designs I spent time to make el oh el): the “leaf” diamond quilt/gambeson and the plaited coattail for milo, the “atypical” weapons, long coat, and large number of scattered fake gold trims and accessories for raihan. I think I lost raihan the hat and added a cape for milo further down the line because like this their general silhouettes are too similar for my liking lol

[satuguro]

⠀ཾ ༚ MORE FUN WITH THREE!

chad meeks martin x ethan landry x reader

#SYNOPSIS— nsfw/sfw head canons about dating ethan and chad <3

#CONTAINS— (sfw) domesticity!!, slight angst, comfort, overall fluff ; (nsfw) daddy/mommy kink, degradation, praise, and a lot more but those are the mains!

#AUTHORSNOTE— there isn’t enough domestic chad/ethan/reader stuff so i wrote this xx

#SFW

— you guys pined for each other for a while until any of you made a move. lots of longing looks and deep talk nights and sleepovers that felt more intimate than ‘just friend’ activities.

— but surprisingly, it was ethan who confessed first. the three of you were sharing a blunt around a pool during a party, and he suddenly started rambling about how much he liked you both romatically.

“it’s just like,” ethan breathes, leaning his head on your shoulder and absentmindedly fidgeting with chad’s fingers. “i talk a lot, right? i ramble and i talk and can’t ever seem to shut up— at least i’m self aware, y/n! —but when i look at the two of you.. it’s like my words just can’t come out. and i become quiet because i don’t know how you two exist.”

— ever since that night, you guys began dating!

— now this is not gonna be one of those head-cannons about how everything went smoothly because trust me it didn’t for a while.

— it was really up and down for the first year. chad has a bad habit of being jealous, which is nice if he wasn’t so in denial when you or ethan point it out.

— ethan has a tendency to space out/disassociate when things get too stressful (a result of his history with his family), which takes a lot of work and patience to work through. thankfully, you and chad have all the patience in the world for him.

— and you wouldn’t open up to them for a while, oftentimes running how you really felt and the bad parts of your past through a filter to make it seem not as bad (even though chad and ethan could read you like a book).

— there’s a lot more, but i will say that i don’t think ethan or chad is the type to really raise their voice during an argument. disagreements are resolved through firm talking between the three of you, and even when someone wants to scream or yell at the other person, they know that you all hate the sound of angry yelling, so you find others ways to cool off.

— anyways! you guys moved in together a year and a half into your relationship.

— chad’s the clean one and ethan’s the messy one (mainly bc he gets distracted by other stuff and forgets ro clean up after himself).

— both boys love sitting/joining you when you’re doing your hobbies. sometimes they even wanna learn from you! chad is a very quick learner while ethan is very eager to learn

— movie nights, video game nights, study nights, etc. are a very common thing bc all of you procrastinate college shit (except for chad, who is somehow more on top of it than you and ethan).

— chad can cook, ethan can bake, and you can do both! so meals are usually made by you and chad while ethan makes dessert.

— ethan also stress bakes.

the lack of a third body in your bed made you sit up groggily from your bed. “chad? chad,” you mumbled, shaking chad’s shoulder next to you, making him grumble a weak response. “where’s ethan?”

and as the two of you walked out, you still wrapped in your comforter, you were shocked to find your boyfriend making his third batch of cake pops over the counter. his hair was tousled and eye bags hung under his brown eyes, but ethan looked more awake than ever. his spider-man shirt was stained with flour and his pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. “ethan,” chad said with a sigh, “babes, it’s 3 am.”

“yeah but,” ethan began, whisking from frosting. “i have an exam in like two days and i needed to relax so i’m baking!”

“ethan, baby, come back to bed.”

— chad and ethan are sore losers!! every time the three of you play video games and you win they both sulk for like 10 minutes. but if you lose and one of them wins, they’re so cocky and they’re teasing you about it (assholes).

"guys, please talk to me," you said, watching as ethan stubbornly sat next to chad on the other side of the couch, pulling the blanket tight over the both of them and not around you."

"no," chad stated, putting an arm over ethan's shoulders and pulling him close. "this is what happens when you cheat at mario kart."

you huffed in annoyance before standing up, grabbing the blanket and forcing yourself in with them, ignoring their protests.

"y/n, you already won!" ethan groaned, still making room for you regardless of how much of a sore loser he was.

— you guys sleep on a king bed in a shared room and take turns being in the middle. usually chad likes being in the middle because that means he gets to feel both you and ethan sleeping on his chest.

— chad sleeps earlier than the both of you so sometimes he has to listen to you and ethan talk about basically nothing 30 minutes before going to bed.

“yeah, sex is great, but have you ever yawned so hard you felt tears?” ethan said, his face turned to yours as the three of you laid in bed.

chad heard you chuckle softly before saying, “it’s kind of like stretching so hard you cough. wait— does that mean you’d rather yawn with tears over having sex with us?”

“what? no!”

— sometimes when one of you is coming home late, you have nights with only one of them.

— when ethan is coming home late, you and chad both prepare a meal together. light music is playing in the background while you both prepare three plates (another for ethan when he gets home). chad has a habit of wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder while you cook. then after dinner you both watch a horror movie with popcorn (chad knows all the best horror movies thanks to mindy.) and take a shower together.

— when chad is coming home late, ethan helps you make dinner (he just chops vegetables and sometimes meat. poor boy can’t cook) and is constantly snacking on the food before it’s even prepared. you both save chad a plate before having a little ‘spa day.’ you both take a bath and put on face masks and (mildly) catch each other up on gossip.

— when you’re coming home late, either chad makes dinner and ethan helps or he does the work and ethan sits on the counter and tells him about all the drama (chad likes to say he doesn’t like listening, but you and ethan know he does). sometimes ethan makes him do a face mask with him and then they go play video games for the rest of the night until you come home.

— your apartment has a loveseat on the side that you all like to cuddle on while your friends are over.

— folding clothes together in the living room while watching shows like bob’s burgers.

— you guys definitely have a cat that’s named ‘kelp’ or something weird like that. when you first got the cat chad was def a little disappointed (he wanted a dog) but now he’s your cat’s favorite (much to you and ethan’s chagrin).

— whenever you say ‘i love you,’ there’s always two responses of ‘i love you more,’ back. and that phrase is something really important to the three of you.

— you like to say it during the times when you really mean it. you always love them, but there’s random times where you’re just watching them talk to each other at the dinner table and you’ll just say ‘i love you,’ because how nice is it that you can always have dinner with them?

— ethan incorporates it into his daily phrases, stuff like, “i’m gonna go now, i love you!” and “good night, i love you.” he also says it a lot while he’s drunk (he’s a sucker for you and chad, what can he say).

— chad says it during random times. sometimes he’ll just walk by you or ethan in the kitchen, pressing brief kisses to your shoulders and murmuring, “i love you.” or he’ll taste something you or ethan made and say, “oh my god, i love you. this is incredible.”

— ethan talks a lot and you and chad listen.

— sometimes chad and ethan both ramble to you about something that you know nothing about but do you care? no, because you do the exact same thing and they are always so interested

— chad and ethan go on gym dates and chad always makes ethan his pre workout for him in the morning before they leave <3

— you guys also have a shared groupchat! ethan uses it to send photos throughout his day of random things with cute little comments like ‘look at this dog i saw ◡̈’ or ‘i ordered what y/n usually gets at starbucks! i think it’s actually pretty good!’

—you use it to send photos of when you see him or chad across campus. honestly you do it cause you think it’s funny how most of the photos you take look like they’re from a stalker.

— chad uses it to send photos of the sky whenever he thinks it’s pretty (because it reminds him of the both of you). he also uses it to get yours or ethan’s opinion on something, whether it’s clothes, what he’s buying from the store, etc.

— whenever one of you is stressed/sad you have two people giving you comfort immediately. of course chad is always the one who asks, “do you want comfort or advice?” just because he wants to make sure he’s doing the right thing. but regardless the three of you have learned how to take care of each other.

#NSFW

— there was definitely a moment before you all began dating where ethan said, “wait, does that mean i’m gonna die a virgin?” and you and chad caught each other staring at ethan as though you were willing to change that for him.

chad noticed you stare at ethan, eyes set on him as though you were weighing the consequences of fucking your best friend in your head (not that chad could say anything; he was doing the same thing). your eyes noticed chad’s look, making you raise a brow at him.

“what’re you looking at, chad?”

“what’re you looking at, y/n?”

— ethan has the biggest sex drive out of the three of you. he was really inexperienced when you all started dating but after you and chad taught him the ropes he’s literally always horny.

— chad definitely prefers to be in charge in the bedroom (daddy kink for the win) but he’s actually a switch. you and ethan are only people he’s ever been submissive for.

— you’re a switch for the most part, but you do enjoy domming both chad and ethan (because who wouldn’t?) especially when they both start teasing you out in public/throughout the day (which happens a lot).

— ethan’s definitely a switch but he does prefer to be submissive to you and chad because he has a raging daddy/mommy kink oops

— you and ethan are pretty vocal in bed, but chad isn’t. a lot of the noises he makes is groans and dirty talk (which is literally filthy).

— but one time you and ethan were teasing him and chad let out a whine. when i tell you the tables changed so quickly..

— chad also does this lazy smile/smirk when one of you is riding him/sucking him off that makes him look so cocky and he knows it.

— chad’s cockiness also def shows through in his degradation/praise.

“that’s it, suck my cock,” chad murmured, one of his arms behind his head as ethan took his cock into his mouth. you were right next to him, licking at chad’s balls as ethan began bobbing his head. the poor boy was a mess of saliva and tears dripping down his chin, his head of curls gripped tightly by chad as his hips thrusted his fat cock deeper into ethan’s mouth.

a needy whine left your lips as ethan pulled off of chad’s cock, gasping in a breath before continuing to stroke it in his hands. then you both leaned in, eyes set on chad and the lazy smile on his face, before your tongues met at chad’s tip. with his tip in between your mouths, you and ethan made out with each other, whimpers and low moans falling from your mouths. licking into ethan’s mouth and tonguing at chad’s fat tip, you moaned at the sloppiness of it all, feeling yours and ethan’s saliva drip down your chins.

the lewd sight alone made chad moan, head falling back briefly. “god, you’re both so needy. you love sucking my dick that much that you both wanna share?”

“mm.. yes daddy.”

— sex is serious for the most part but sleepy sex/morning sex is always so giggly for you guys. especially when ethan and chad want to eat you out together.

“chad— dude, you gotta move to the side,” ethan groaned, trying to move himself next to the taller man. your legs were spread wide, both of them held open by chad’s hand and ethan’s, and feeling their two eyes on you, you suddenly felt exposed.

“how do we—” chad began leaning his head in at the same time as ethan’s and bumping their heads, making them both laugh. carding your hands through their hair, you couldn’t help but giggle before it turned into a moan.

chad and ethan’s tongue met in the middle as they spread your legs wider. leaning over, chad went to suck on your clit while ethan leaned down to fuck your sopping hole with his tongue, making your back arch. “there you go,” chad murmured, breath fanning over your cunt as he massages the inside of your thighs.

“mm, you taste so good, y/n,” ethan said, eyes hazy as he slipped a finger into you.

— sometimes ethan wakes the both of you up by giving you both head. he gets really needy! and if you wake up before him that’s how you wake chad up

— you love teasing them. sometimes you grind your ass against them a little too much while passing by them in the kitchen or you wear shorts around the apartment that you know chad loves, along with a tank top without a bra (so ethan’s practically drooling at your breasts)

— it usually ends with them being in charge that night. especially if your little teasing game goes on for the entire day and you pretend you know nothing about it; both of them want to punish you <3

“fuck— daddy, ‘m close,” ethan whined, throwing his head back as his cock slipped into your lips again. you peered up at him through heavy lashes, his length stifling your whimpers as chad’s cock sank deeper inside of you.

“go ahead, baby boy. cum all over y/n’s face,” chad said with a groan, watching shamelessly as your cunt took every inch of his thick cock. “fuck, you really love taking dick, huh?” he said with a breathless laugh, thrusting his hips into you harshly and reveling in the cry you let out. “too bad you won’t get to cum just yet. not until we’re finished.”

ethan let out a whine as he came all over your face, eyes set on how your tongue stuck out for him and the way it caught only some of his cum. the rest painted your face so beautifully that ethan couldn’t help but grab some with his thumb and put it into your mouth. obediently, your lips wrapped around his thumb and sucked off the rest of the cum.

— sorry not sorry ethan loves his ass ate idc. he becomes such a slit the second he feels you or chad’s tongue on his hole, arching his back and babbling, “mommy/daddy, more. please— oh fuck me.”

— chad also has an obsession with eating you out. when i tell you that man knows how to eat pussy i mean it. sit on his face, suffocate him— he wants it all as long as he’s between your thighs.

— that being said he also loves eating ethan out. primarily because ethan ends up crying and he’s just so pretty when he cries.

— chad’s sadistic/masochistic (he’s def a service top) and ethan’s the same way. but ethan’s sadism and masochism can go extreme; he loves denying you and chad of your orgasms over and over, but if you were to deny him of his over and over he’d love it more.

— chad sometimes just leans back and lets you and ethan do whatever you want to him. you could use his dick like a toy and ethan could ride his face and chad could die a happy man right there, knowing that he’s pleasuring the both of you.

— ethan has an oral fixation to the max. he always needs something in his mouth, whether it’s your tits, yours or chad’s fingers, chad’s cock, or your pussy, he just loves having his mouth full.

— whenever you’re domming, ethan is always so good while chad is nothing but a brat. but there are some rare occasions when ethan is being bratty and you and chad have to punish him.

“daddy— daddy slow down—!” ethan cried out, his hips automatically snapping against you as a result of chad’s pounding. he was crying at this point, fat tears streaming down his cheeks as he was stuck between chad’s thick cock and your tight pussy. his own cock was so hard, but the cock ring around it made it impossible for him to fuck a load into you. not that you or chad seemed to care.

“you wanted to act like such a brat earlier, ethan,” you said with faux pity, teeth digging into your bottom lip as ethan’s cock thrusted inside of you repeatedly.

“which means,” chad said, slapping ethan’s ass and making the boy moan, “you can’t give us fucking orders.” he thrusted deeper into his boyfriend, listening to the ‘uh, uh, uhs’ ethan let out as his cock fucked him harder.

“i wanna cum,” ethan sniffled, ignoring your scolding as he took your hips and thrusted into you, making your head fall back as you moaned deliciously. “daddy, p—please— mm, mm— let me cum, mommy.”

chad only chuckled darkly at that, letting out a low moan as he came inside ethan’s ass, filling him with cum— his first load of the night. “brats don’t get to cum.”

— i will say this rn; the aftercare is soso good.

— chad basically has all of your needs memorized by heart. bath? he already had it ready. food? there’s snacks on the bedside table. alone time? the guest room has its bed made and the t.v on. cuddles? of course, just let him clean you up and get you some water. don’t wanna get up? good, chad would rather you lay there while he gets everything ready.

— it kind of goes for all of you as well. you and chad are usually giving the aftercare while ethan’s receiving. but ethan knows the aftercare you both need too!

— especially after pretty hard scenes, ethan knows to reassure you both that he’s okay. it doesn’t happen often, but when you and chad feel horrible for talking to ethan in such a way, he goes out of his way to take care of you just like you both take care of him <3

[viktorybell]

Tight Spaces

Jayce x Viktor x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k (EXACTLY 3.8k I will never achieve this again.)

Warning: slightly suggestive at the end, but that’s it

Ask:  is it ok if i request some poly jayce and viktor x reader? if you dont do poly just jayce is fine =] maybe the reader is an artist and they love drawing their crush(es) but because theyre a journalist they cant normally show off their art, but while at the lab one day, the other notices their sketchbook and asks to flip through it - and reader, forgetting that its a sketchbook and not a notebook for articles, says yes. after that, everythings up to you >=]

You’ve always been good with tight spaces. It’s part of what makes you one of Piltover’s most prolific reporters. You’re willing to go places that the majority of the prim n’ proper Piltover journalists wouldn’t dare. Which is partly because you grew up in a shabby neighborhood on the edges of the Undercity and partly because you were just a damn good reporter.

Growing up in the Undercity was integral for developing your reporter skills. You didn’t have many toys or trinkets to fill your time with, so you found alternative ways for filling your afternoons as a child. Alternative ways meaning snooping. Creeping around the Lanes and finding new hiding places. Unseen and unnoticed places where you could camp out for an afternoon. Your favorite spot had been a gap in the wall behind Vander’s old bar. You’d sit there for hours, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick while listening in on the dozens of conversations that felt infinitely more interesting than your life had at the time.

Your start in the Undercity also helped to endear you to a certain renowned inventor with similar origins. 

You were in his lab now, sketching out the shape of him and his lab partner where they’ve been hunched over a complicated set of blueprints for the last hour. This is usually how your sessions worked. With you wandering aimlessly around their lab while they bounced between assignments and answering your questions. The drawing was a more recent addition to the routine, though.

Viktor, who was from the Undercity despite the two of you having never met, was a dream to draw. For as much of a show he put on trying to scare you away during your first report, those sharp angles softened pretty quickly when he realized you didn’t startle easy. His long legs and messy hair just inspired the artist in you in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were young. It was like coming home after so long being stuck in the stuffy yet isolating atmosphere of Piltover.

Then there was Viktor’s partner, Jayce Talis. Jayce didn’t feel familiar like his counterpart, but was intriguing and alluring all the same. Where Viktor’s shape took form in sharp, wispy lines, Jayce’s were sturdy and bold. He was comforting and bright, like sunshine after a storm. And wasn’t that the most fitting way to describe it? Jayce had been full of apologies and little jokes during the first meeting between you three. Where Viktor was a little less than welcoming, Jayce doubled down on friendly smiles and encouraging pats on the back.

Not that either of them could scare you away now. You’ve moved far past the awkward first few interviews, your questions stilted and the atmosphere tense with the distrust coming off of Viktor in waves. It was hard to keep up with how many pieces you’ve done on these two so far, you stopped counting when you ran out of fingers to count them on.

Somewhere between your first article on an exclusive Hexbros interview and the piece you’re currently working on talking about the environmental benefits of Hextech technology, the three of you grew close. Viktor was comfortable, like sepia memories drenched in nostalgia. He was a man from the Undercity through and through, tough and resilient despite all the odds. Then there was Jayce, who was his opposite in every way besides how much he cares. He hadn’t needed more than a day to win your favor, it was like he always knew what to say to you. It did things to your brain. Hence why you’re sitting on the couch in their lab and scribbling down their likeness instead of pestering them for answers like you should.

“It’s been an hour and I’ve answered maybe a question and a half for this piece. Should I come back when you two come back down from outer space?” You call out just loud enough for them to hear as you put the finishing touches on your sketch.

“Sure, let me put a pin in our progress on life-saving, world-changing, investigative technology for your silly newspaper questions,” Viktor hums sarcastically, rummaging through his desk drawer for something. To his right, Jayce’s stomach growls loudly.

“Maybe a break wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Jayce grins sheepishly at you while you’re holding back a laugh. “Science can wait for lunch time, right?”

“How quickly you abandon our team when your stomach’s involved,” Viktor comments while moving over to rummage through Jayce’s desk now.

“Hey! I’m not abandoning anybody, ok?” Jayce scoffs, folding his arms defensively. “And besides, Y/N’s a part of the team too at this point.”

“For putting up with your never-ending appetite?” Viktor grins slyly at Jayce.

“I was thinking more for putting up with your attitude, but…” Jayce has to quickly dodge the balled up paper that Viktor beams at his head. It does nothing to dampen the goofy smile that’s burning your eyes from the sheer warmth and fond exasperation it exudes. “Hey! Stop screwing with my stuff!”

“I wouldn’t have to screw with your stuff if you just kept the lab tidy.”

“You’re messier than I am!”

“You cannot prove that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Girls, girls! You’re both equally as disgusting as the other! Can we stop arguing now?” You groan, shutting your sketchbook and setting it on top of an identical notebook. Identical except for the paper inside that was lined instead of blank. You tried to keep your reporter’s notes and questions separate from the drawings you did as a hobby. Especially when your hobby mostly consisted of drawing the two other men in the room. “What’re you looking for, Viktor?

“My toolkit. The one I use for detailing,” Viktor huffs, knocking the desk drawer he’d been digging through shut. Both you and Jayce could tell in the tense line of his shoulders that he was actually getting frustrated now.

“Do you remember where you put it last?” Jayce asks, his voice softer as he steps closer to Viktor. You don’t think either of them even notice, but as Jayce moves in, Viktor unconsciously sways towards him. For as much as they bicker like an old married couple, they care deeply for each other.

Maybe it was your reporter’s habit of looking into things too much and drawing conclusions, but you’d thought the two were an item. FOR MONTHS. It’d been earth shatteringly awkward when you called Jayce ‘Viktor’s boyfriend’ in front of them and they had instantly stopped their playful arguing to stare at you, jaws dropped. You’d stopped talking outloud about the conclusions you drew from their behavior since then. For your sanity.

Which was probably for the best seeing as, despite their insistence that they were just friends, the two had obvious feelings for each other. It was clear in the way they spoke to each other, understood the other’s eccentricities and adored them for it. You got the feeling that the two didn’t get to fully be themselves often, making it that much more of a privilege that you can sit on their couch and be a part of it, no matter how minor. There was a sick jealous part of you that squeezed in on itself as you watched Jayce rest a hand on the side of Viktor’s arm. You weren’t sure who you’d rather be in that moment, as Jayce leaned in just that much closer, lowering his voice until it was soft enough only the two could hear it.

Notebook. Yes. Reporting. Mhm, yep. You were here to write a report about Hextech. You should probably stop gawking at the two and actually do what you’re paid to do.

Tearing your gaze away, trying to ignore the pit of longing in your gut and give the boys some privacy, you absently reach for your notebooks and pens and they topple to the floor. You roll your eyes as your favorite color pen rolls under the lab’s couch.

Figures.

Getting on your hands and knees, you stack your notebooks and set them back on the coffee table. Then the hard part. You try and slip your arm under the small gap between the couch and the floor. It’s dusty and you try not to think about what you’re touching until you grab something decidedly un-penlike. Wondering what sort of horrific artifact you’ll find under the couch that has clearly never been cleaned under, you’re surprised to pull out the missing toolbox.

“Good find, Y/N!” Jayce cheers, making you jump where you were still kneeling in front of the couch. Turning to look, you find both men staring at you. You hadn’t even realized they stopped talking to watch you fighting for your life trying to find your pen. Aw, damn. Your pen…that thing’s gone forever now.

“Go figure, looking for my pen and I found your toolkit,” You chuckle goodnaturedly as you stand up from the floor, dusting yourself off.

“Our little lab good luck charm strikes again, however can we repay you?” Viktor teases, him and Jayce headed over to your side of the room now. Whatever Jayce had said to him certainly seemed to put him at ease, your face going red as you played Viktor’s words over and over in your mind. You could think of a couple ways he could repay you. Shit, focus, they’re both staring expectantly.

“You can repay me by getting some actual work done while I grab us lunch,” You make a big show of rolling your eyes as you hand over the box. Viktor gasps in mock offense while Jayce makes puppy dog eyes at you.

“Aw, you’re leaving us?” Jayce whines. “But I didn’t even get to read through your notes yet!”

“There’s not even notes to look through yet, we haven’t gotten anything done this last hour,” You point out. Jayce sighs dramatically, his big, sad eyes still staring pathetically back at you. Incapable of resisting, you grab a book off the table and shove it into his chest. “Here, you big baby. You can look through my old notes while I grab you ungrateful wretches some food.”

Jayce flutters his eyelashes and hugs the book to his chest, “Awww, you always know just the things to say!”

Viktor glares over at Jayce, “What? That’s not fair, what am I supposed to read?” Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as you watch Viktor swipe the other book off the table.  

Drawing Viktor and Jayce in the lab wasn’t just a random thing you decided to do today. Your sketch book was almost entirely filled with different sketches of the men from almost every time you visited the lab for the last six months. If either of them looked through your sketch book you’d probably have to quit your job, move countries, and then completely change your identity so nobody will ever know you’re the poor schmuck falling for the brightest minds in Piltover.

“Not that one!” You yelped, quickly trying to snatch the notebook back from Viktor. Unfortunately, Viktor shoots his arm out of reach lightning fast, filling you with dread. Both men look at you in shock. Which quickly gave way into the most devious smirks you’ve ever seen.

“Why? What’s in here that you don’t want us to see, hm?” Viktor practically purrs, half lidded eyes making you stutter over your words.

“What? Nothing! Give it back!” Making another grab for it, this time Jayce swipes it from Viktor and lifts it high up above his head. You could kill him.

“Hmmmm, I dunno, Viktor. Sounds like there’s something pretty important in here,” Jayce has his free hand on his hip, carrying on a casual conversation with his partner as you jump up and down. You’re getting nowhere with snatching your notebook back. “Maybe we should keep it safe while our darling reporter gets lunch?”

“Oh how kind, Jayce! You wouldn’t mind, would you, doll?” Viktor hums at you. He’s not hiding his amusement at your struggle at all as Jayce chuckles and wiggles the book out of your reach.

Your face is burning from the energy you’re wasting trying to jump as high as you can and also because maybe you’re a little flustered. You’d almost missed the pet names the two had given you. Almost. It wasn’t helping out with your situation at all, though. Focus, time to think of a different tactic.

Neither inventor was prepared for you to take a running start and leap onto Jayce.

“Woah!” Jayce borderline squeaks as he immediately lets go of both books to wrap his arms around you. His big, strong arms that are built with muscle from all the time he spends in the forge. Big, strong arms that are wrapped around your waist to stop you from slipping where you're hanging from his shoulders. You almost don’t even notice that he dropped your books, too caught up in the sheer heat radiating off of him. “Are you ok??”

This hadn’t been your plan.

Originally, you had planned to just climb him until you reached the book, but now with your notebook free and one of the two most handsome men at the academy holding you tight…could you really call it a failed plan?

Right. Jayce asked you a question. And he was staring at you in shock. Viktor was doing the same. OK, yeah, time to be normal. You could do that…right?

After untangling yourself from Jayce’s arms and hopping to the ground, you snatch up your notebook and give the boys a sheepish smile.

“Oh geez, no idea what came over me, guys! Probably just hangry, I’ll go grab that lunch now, enjoy the old notes!” You manage to just duck out of the room as both scientists open their mouths to say something. The bang of the lab door slamming shut has never sounded so sweet before.

It’s a herculean task to not replay that awkward interaction over and over in your head. Feeling tortured as it plays through again and again in your mind’s eye, but it almost feels worse when you try to think of anything else.

You shake yourself mentally as you stand in line at the academy’s dining hall. Yes, you’re the world’s most socially inept reporter. BUT at least you grabbed your book and prevented the world from ending via your stupid crush drawings being exposed to said crushes. Flipping to a random page in your book, you nearly drop it when you open to lined paper and a paragraph detailing the top ten most unconventional uses for Hextech.

The book slams shut, your shaking hands doing so on impulse. Quickly you tear the book open to another page, maybe you were seeing things. It’s an interview on Viktor’s work ethic. Another page. A think piece on Jayce’s past and how it led to where he’s at today. Another page and another and another.

You grabbed the wrong book.

From behind you a student clears their throat, asking if you were gonna move up. The dining hall continued to slowly shuffle forward like your entire world didn’t just stop. On autopilot, you stumble to close the gap in the line, muttering some half-assed apology as your mind reels.

The notebook for your reports was here, which could only mean that your sketchbook was left behind with the last two people you’d ever want it to be left with. There’s no chance in hell they aren’t flipping through it right now and laughing over how hopelessly and desperately in love you are.

To your agony, the dining hall line was steadily shortening, even as you do your best to drag your feet the entire way. You were dreading coming back to the lab.

Maybe there was a chance they had opened to a life drawing of Piltover.

Yeah! Maybe they opened to a less damning picture and decided to respect your wishes for your sketchbook to remain untouched. You were worrying over nothing. It’ll all turn out fine in the end. Probably.

—

“Did you really draw all of these yourself??” You hadn’t even been back in the lab for five seconds before Piltover’s golden boy was in your face, holding a head shot of himself that you’d done in graphite last week.

“I quit. Find a new reporter who will pick up your stupid lunches.”

“Oh, Jayce, leave them alone,” Viktor looks entirely too amused where he’s sitting with his legs crossed. Jayce is leaning against the desk to Viktor’s right and flipping excitedly through the pages. “This is obviously personal to them.”

“What? My private sketches that I never let anyone touch? No, go ahead,” You shrug your shoulders, unpacking your bag on Viktor’s other side. The knowing look in his eyes was making you twitch, so you refused to look at either of them.

“These are incredible, Y/N. Seriously, I’m floored,” Jayce gushes, passing the book over to Viktor.

You fight back the urge to throw Jayce’s lunch across the lab and sprint out, never to return. “It’s just drawings, Jayce.” You mutter through gritted teeth. This was like torture. There’s no way in hell they didn’t know you had a crush on the both of them by now.

“Don’t sell yourself short, now,” Viktor hums as he thumbs through the pages and stops at the one you did today. Through the messy bits of his hair that are constantly falling into his eyes, he looks up at you. Almost right through you, honestly. It’s like he can see through your act, the way you play unbothered when you’re nothing but a hot mess inside. His golden eyes are piercing from this close, and when he points back to the drawing, you’re almost relieved at the excuse to look anywhere else. “There’s obviously a lot of passion that goes into these, hm?”

“Stop fucking with me, Viktor,” You grit out, not even pretending to keep yourself busy with the lunches anymore. In your ears you can practically hear all the blood rushing to your head. It’s fucking with your head, you don’t know what Viktor’s up to and you just want the games to be over with. You’re so busy glaring daggers at Viktor that you don’t even notice that Jayce has shifted from his partner’s side to right behind you until he places a gentle hand on your waist.

“Fucking with you? I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Viktor hums. The corner of his mouth twitches up as you jump at Jayce’s touch, and you almost don’t hear him add, under his breath; “Not yet anyways…”

“We just wanted to thank you for all the lovely art work you’ve made of us,” Jayce’s voice comes from directly beside your ear, and you absentmindedly sway backwards. Leaning into where you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. Good lord, does he always run this hot? You feel like you’re melting. “That ok? You gonna let us thank you?”

“I - well, I wouldn’t say no, but-” It felt like your head was spinning. Jayce was practically snug against your back at this point, Viktor smirking in front of you while watching you slowly lose composure. You try to gather yourself enough for a full sentence, “Wait, I’m sorry. I’m confused. You guys aren’t…weirded out?”

“Of course not,” Viktor assures you as he takes one of your hands and uses the desk to help push himself to his feet. “I like getting to see this side of you. For someone who spends all their time digging into other’s secrets, you aren’t very forthright.”

“Although I kind of wish you had felt comfortable enough to show us yourself. I’m sorry you grabbed the wrong notebook,” Jayce says, pressing a kiss to the top of your shoulder. An action that nearly wipes every thought from your brain clean. There’s absolutely no way this is actually happening. You’re half tempted to pinch yourself.

“I wanted to,” You blurt out, the words surprising you with how much conviction you put into them. Once they were out in the air, you found that you meant them. The words came out easier this time, “I just didn’t know how. Honestly, I just felt like an asshole for assuming you guys were a couple and didn’t want to make things awkward again.”

You can feel more than hear Jayce chuckling behind you. In response, Viktor shoots him a fond look over your shoulder. You’re more than a little bit lost when Viktor makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

“Ehh, about that.”

“What. What?? Have you two been messing with me this entire time??” You try to turn around in Jayce’s hold, catching a glimpse of his red face before he turns you right back around.

“No, no! Nothing like that!” Jayce reassures you. Huffing and leaning back into where Jayce is standing sturdy and strong behind you, you raise an expectant eyebrow at Viktor. “We really were just friends when you asked if we were dating.”

“It’s just your little comment made the both of us realize we wanted something more than that,” Viktor is staring into your eyes again, although the golden hue’s less piercing this time. His eyes are full of intensity, but less like an interrogation this time and a bit more smug. Like everything was falling into place exactly how he wanted it to.

It took a large amount of restraint to hold back from yelling out a triumphant ‘I KNEW IT!!!’ Instead, you settled on “Oh? And where do I fit into all of this?”

Like a cat who got the canary, Viktor’s smirk widened. Apparently that had been just the right thing to say.

“Where you’ve been fitting in this entire time, my dear,” Viktor purrs, almost closing the gap between you two as he places his hand on your waist, opposite of Jayce’s.

“Right here next to us,” Jayce finishes Viktor’s thought, and you wonder if they rehearsed this beforehand. Not that you had much time to wonder after Jayce started placing a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck, effectively killing any and all brain function you had left.

Your head was still spinning but in some weird way you were growing used to it around your two muses. Fortunately, you’ve been growing fond of their brand of chaos. There wasn’t anybody else in all of Piltover or the Undercity that could leave you reeling like Viktor and Jayce. It was almost suffocating, the heat being generated from where you were stuck between the two of them, but you found yourself rather enjoying the feeling.

Afterall, you’ve always been good with tight spaces.

[sepetajmikolikomehoces]

Collected works

Supervoimii:

It’s a strange sensation, Jere thinks, like there is some unimaginable void threatening to open wide inside of him and consume him, something so beyond him that he will drown in its depths.

Bojere oneshot, a quick little hurt and comfort piece for anyone wishing to relive the grand final.

sä saat mut:

It's all a bubble, Bojan thinks. Different place, same kind of strange removal from reality. This is both better and worse.

It is better, because it is less eyes, less pressure, less intensity. It's worse because… Because it's them.

Bojere oneshot. Tavastia 1.0 was beautiful and nothing hurt. So gotta make it a little bittersweet. But mostly fluffy and gentle on the feelings.

hukun täällä lakanoihin

It starts as a joke.

What else?

Everything between them has been a joke from the very beginning, until it hasn’t. Hamming it up for the cameras, for the gram, for every bit of publicity somehow grew into a friendship, grew into something that Jere has been feeling at odds with ever since May. It’s hard to think that there was a time when Bojan wasn’t a part of his life, when touches were simple and words were uncomplicated things that he bent and twisted to his will.

Bojere oneshot. The fix-it I personally needed after the Euro tour. Angst, fluff and smut, in that order, because it always has to hurt a little.

it's that time of the year (when the world falls in love)

Jan exhales, condensation dissipating in front of him. It feels… odd. The quiet after a long tour season, a Christmas that passed in a blink amidst family, and three final concerts; it sits like a square peg in a round hole.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Nace looks unbearably soft, hair messy and glasses perched on his nose, a contented smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jance oneshot. The end of the year and birthday celebration I so wished for these two. Soft, sweet, with a bit of gentle smut for good measure.

poljubi

For all that they manage to carve out little pockets of time spent alone and offline, for all that happens away from prying eyes, they never actually kiss in Liverpool. A tale of a first and a second, and the differences between them.

I discussed possible Bojere kissing with punanenmarli, tossed out a two line hypothetical and got asked if I could write it as a drabble, and well... who am I to deny a friend?

(meidän välillä on) katkematon lanka

“Äiti, when did you dream of isi?”

“When I needed him the most.”

Jere thinks about that exchange now, a year down the line and staring the harsh reality of his life in the face. A year has been enough to chip away most of what he was, all of what he had. If ever he needed the Dream, the one where he’d see his soulmate and know, then is this not it?

Bojere soulmate WIP, in which you see your soulmate in your dreams. When? When you most all need it.

šepetaj mi koliko me hočeš

It’s not that Bojan is… a prude. He has needs. And usually, he would address those needs the way he’s always done; bar hopping with his university friends, finding a willing someone to burn off the tension that has gathered in his body and parting ways before the sun has time to shine a light on his choices.

The picture is cropped, showing a bare-chested man, a hint of a tattoo, gorgeous hands with green painted nails and the hint of a smile that just tugs at him.

paidatonriehuja

Bojere WIP. Oh my god. The one that got away from me and got me bopped in the head by Apollo's dodgeball. Went from oneshot to two-part to "every ounce of control I thought I had over these clowns was imagined, so fuck it, we ball". Gorgeous art by @lumea-art and @lhma linked in first chapter

[hopeless-romantic-1-7]

Christmas Activities With The Twins

How I think different Christmas activities would go if you were best friends with Jake and Josh

Merry Christmas @cal-a-bungaa! Tis I your Secret Santa! I had a wonderful time getting to know you this month and had a lot of fun making your gift. I am in no way a writer but I still wanted to try so I could make something special for you. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful time with your family and friends. 🖤

Christmas movie marathons:

So, obviously, with Josh and Jake, a movie marathon now and then is a necessity. I can see you all sitting in their living room, two of yall on the couch, one on the floor, blankets and pillows everywhere, and every kind of snack as well as cups of hot chocolate littering the coffee table. If we are being honest, only half of your time was spent watching movies, while the other half was spent between Jake and Josh arguing over what movie to watch.

"This one's clearly the better choice!" "Not by a long shot, Jakey." "You guys do realize we can watch both, right?"

Decorating:

Being from Frankenmuth, I imagine both boys going all out with Christmas decorations, but I can see Josh being very particular about them. Josh would be the one directing you and Jake on where to put things, what ornaments should go on the tree, where the Christmas tree should go, and how you should hang the lights.

"No, that’s not how they're supposed to go!" "Josh, I love you, but if you say anything else about these lights, they aren't going to be the only thing hanging."

Christmas Lights:

This is an activity that the three of you enjoy so much that it's almost a tradition. Just the three of you, driving around different neighborhoods and looking at all the various Christmas decorations while listening to whatever Christmas songs are on the radio. It's one of the few peaceful times with them and one of the best parts of Christmas because it's just you and them, the sound of the music, and the snow falling just enough to enhance the beauty of nature around you. Everything seems to get quieter; you start seeing fewer and fewer cars until you feel like you've seen all the lights in town but still don't want to go home because you don't want the moment to end.

"I think we've seen all the lights." You say, through a yawn, "Let's just drive a little longer, hon; it's very peaceful tonight."

Christmas cookies:

I can see Jake being the one to want to make Christmas cookies more than Josh. Josh loves them but doesn't like the process of making them, so it's usually just you and Jake in the kitchen baking. Christmas music plays softly in the background while smells of gingerbread and sugar cookies fill the home Jake and Josh share. As you put the last batch of cookies in the oven, you turn to help Jake, who was frosting some cookies from a previous batch that had already cooled.

"Need some help with those?" "Yeah, the piping bag is over there, and there are some cookies over there that haven't been frosted."

Gingerbread houses:

A gingerbread house contest would be a must, even though it would get super messy. It would be a fantastic time, whether it be to see who can make their house the fastest or who can make the prettiest house. It always seems to be a competition. When you were younger, it was easy because you could get your parents to judge; of course, they weren't going to pick one, so you all would win, but now with no parent to say that they were all beautiful, you were left to judge with a very specific point system they came up with and argue about how Josh's was lopsided or Jake put too much frosting on the left side so it was dripping too much.

"It is not lopsided!" "But it is" "ha, Josh's house is lopsided"; "Shut up, Jake. You put too much frosting on your house, and it's now dripping, which costs you points."

Christmas shopping:

Christmas shopping would be very long and chaotic. Jake would want to buy the most expensive, extravagant present because, of course, he only wants what's best for his loved ones, while Josh wants to find the perfect thing, so with Josh, you'll pretty much drive to every store in town only for him to realize the "perfect thing" was at the first store you guys went too.

"So I think I know what to get them, but we have to go back to Target" "Josh! That was the first place we went to!" "I know, but I wanted to make sure it was the right thing."

[astriiformes]

18, 22, and 29 for the fic asks, please!

18 - Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Oh this so, so depends on the fic, in part because every once and a while an excellent title descends upon me early in the process and also if I'm working on a fic for a while I have more time to think.

Usually my fics start out with placeholder titles that are whatever came to mind when I first saved the document; I'm yet to have one of those graduate to being a final title but that's partially because they're all things like this:

...and are often tonally different than what I'm actually going for.

As far as where my titles end up actually coming from, poems are a common culprit; I've got one or two song lyric ones, and some inspired by various other cultural references (ranging from like... pop cultural to Biblical). I tend to try to work in some wordplay, irony, or symbolism where I can, and love a title with layers.

Breaking down a couple recent ones:

Beharren ist eine Kunst -- German for "Persistence is an art," stemming from the longer proverb "Anfangen ist leicht, Beharren eine Kunst" (Beginning is easy, persistence an art), works particularly well for a story about an artist where "Kunst" doubles as a bit of a play on words.

Stemma Codicum -- A textual criticism term referring to the chart that can be drawn of different manuscripts relationship to each other (what was copied from what, where changes entered into the manuscript transmission process, and etc). Worked really well for a Pentiment fic about three "alternate timelines" all branching from a single change at a specific point in canon -- manuscript transmission as a metaphor for those critical points in people's lives that manage to change everything!

Long Upon the Land -- A tongue-in-cheek reference to Exodus 20:12, which reads ""Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee"," as a title for a fic in which a character with an overbearing abusive father contemplates art and things that can outlast us across generations. Really loved the irony with this one, it's one of my favorites I've come up with in a while.

Needless to say they draw from all over the places, but I feel like between them it's pretty easy to get a feel for what I like in titles.

22 - Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I don't want to say there's for sure something I won't do, just because it seems like there's exceptions to everything (Pentiment wrung a "Major Character Death" warning tag out of me which is a new one!), but in general I am pretty allergic to most romance tropes. I'll write romantic relationships -- although my fics rarely center on them, but that's one of those things I'd be willing to assume might have an exception one day -- but when I do, they tend not to be particularly trope-y. There's just a lot of amatonormativity steeped into ideas like soulmates, fake dating, etc, and I'm not interested enough in them to consider ways to rehabilitate them in my own writing. I am but a tired aro and while it means I'll never write the most popular fic in any fandom I'm in, I get by perfectly fine in my little gen niche.

I'm also not a big fan of writing in first person (reading can go either way! I'm less into it in fic unless the canon itself is in first person, but fine with it in original fiction), but even that one has an exception on the horizon! If and when I finally write my TOH Sherlock Holmes pastiche, it'll probably be in first person, to mimic the original source material. So really that's a great example of why I have a pretty solidly "never say never" stance on most non-romantic tropes and devices.

29 - What’s your revision or editing process like?

I have a horrible confession to make. I edit as I go. My terrible perfectionist brain struggles to make peace with messy first drafts, and while I'll often give things a final, editor's eye read-through once I've finished writing, the bulk of my editing happens on repeated re-readings of the material throughout the writing process.

This is not a good way of doing things and I would love to break the habit, particularly since I think it would result in me writing more and faster. Do as I say, not as I do, everyone.

[dollythesheepp]

Veronica- Chapter 10

Ao3 

Dear Westerburg... You may find what I've done shocking ...

Instead of more details about Veronica's fight with her friend Heather, or lovestruck ramblings about JD, all Betty found when she turned the page were scratched out words, written in a different handwriting than the one she had become accustomed; the phrase occupied one line, and there was nothing else written on it. Betty furrowed her brows and turned the page.

Dear world... No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings.

Same thing. The sentences looked like drafts, as if Veronica was writing a letter and she just couldn't find the right words. What did she do that was so shocking?

Expecting another entry like that, Betty turned the page again, this time staring at Veronica's usual welcome in her messy, barely readable handwriting.

September 24th, 1989. Dear diary...

FUCK!

The single word was written in big, block letters, and it took over three whole lines on the page. Betty chuckled, finding that specific entry funny and very teenage like. She stopped chuckling when she got to the next paragraphs.

Dear diary...

I might as well stop sending my applications to ivy league colleges now, as I'm sure the only place I'll be attending next year will be San Quentin.

I can't believe I actually did that. I just killed my best friend (and my worst enemy, but there's a fine line between those two, as I've come to learn.)

It's been three hours, and I still haven't come to terms with it. Because how exactly do you process something like that? I'm sitting in my room, jumping at every noise my parents make downstairs , just waiting for the moment the police will come knocking on my door.

I can't talk to anyone, not Mom and Dad, not the Heathers (the ones that are still standing, anyway), and not even my freaking therapist. You're the only one I trust now.

What the fuck have I done?

Betty only realized her mouth was open when she started to feel her tongue dry; she closed it and blinked rapidly, snapping out of her shock. She adjusted her glasses on her face, and read everything again, to make sure her myopia hadn't somehow distorted Veronica's words and made them seem like something entirely different than what was in fact written.

That had to be a joke, right? Some sort of dare. Or perhaps Veronica was speaking in metaphors and hadn't actually meant killing her friend in the literal way.

Betty turned the page.

September 25th, 1989 Dear diary...

Heather Chandler's death has wreaked havoc throughout Westurburg. The student body is in shambles now that they've lost their queen.

Heather McNamara can't stop crying (in the moments when she isn't sucking face with Kurt Kelly or complaining about how unfair it is that we only got half a day off from school. Everyone grieves in their own way, I suppose..), Heather Duke has suddenly lost her urge to purge now that Chandler isn't here to comment on every calorie she ingests, Peter Dawson is bragging to everyone about how he was one of the last people to go on a date with the recently deceased Heather and Miss Fleming is in some weird sort of power trip, as if Heather's death awakened in her a need to change the world by forcing teenagers to talk about their feelings.

And me...well, I know that I rambled on about wanting to kill Heather, but I did not plan this. It's one thing to wish someone was dead and it's another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.

Having said that...If I had the chance to go back in time and undo what I did, I'm not sure I would have changed anything .

Betty blinked, her shock preventing her from expressing any other reaction. She closed the diary as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat and went to bed, finding herself unable to keep reading more.

That night, she didn't sleep.

***

Once the first rays of sunshine started to light up the guest room, Betty gave up on trying to sleep, after restless hours of tossing and turning all night. She stayed in bed, clutching her comforter and staring at the ceiling with a hundred thoughts running amok inside her head, and got up a few minutes after Martha arrived at 8:30; JD woke up shortly after, walking down the stairs already dressed for work.

As usual, Betty found herself in the routine she had established during her stay. She had breakfast, alone this time because JD was late for work and left with an empty stomach and a thermos full of coffee, then she went to the office to work. Seating in front of the computer, Betty couldn't keep her eyes off of the window, where she could see Veronica in the backyard with Martha. They were enjoying the sun as they usually did at that time because Betty wasn't the only one with a routine there.

As a matter of fact, most days in the Sawyer-Dean residence felt exactly the same, like they were all characters in a movie that was being played over and over again. JD would leave for work, Martha would take Veronica outside for a couple of hours and would read her a book or talk to her, then she was fed, cleaned, and Martha would put her back in bed and turn on the TV for her until it was time for her to go to sleep. Sometimes JD would take Veronica downstairs, once he got home, and he'd tell her about her day, other times he would go to her room and stay there with her for hours.

Betty couldn't help thinking about how she would feel in Veronica's position. How draining it must feel to be stuck in that repetitive pattern for the rest of her life. With that thought in her head, she got up and closed the curtains; she didn't want to think about Veronica.

She tried to focus on her job, but the words written in Veronica's diary kept coming back to her every time she closed her eyes. Veronica had killed someone. And according to what she wrote, she didn't feel sorry. Shocked maybe, and scared of getting caught and ruining her life, but she showed no signs of selfless remorse for ending the life of a seventeen year old girl who she had once called a friend.

Did JD know about that? Betty couldn't help but think that God certainly did, and that was why Veronica's life had turned out the way it did. Commeupance comes one way or another.

***

Eventually, Betty managed to forget about the diary for a few hours, her desire to finish her job serving as motivation for her to work faster. With the curtains closed, she didn't feel the hours go by, nor the sun go down until JD knocked on her door.

"Hey," he poked his head inside the office. "Just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm good, thanks," she smiled. She glanced at the swatch on her wrist. It was 6:15 p.m. "You're home early today."

JD fully entered the room, leaving the door slightly ajar after he passed. He gave a shrug. "Yeah, I managed to finish some things earlier," he said. "Do you like pasta? I know it's early but I'm starving."

"Same," Betty said. She managed to get through the day with three cups of coffee and one cereal bar, completely forgetting about lunch. "And pasta sounds great."

She followed JD to the kitchen, and she settled down on one of the chairs to watch JD cook. As always, he refused to let her help but after some insistence, he conceded and let her make the salad while he took care of the rest.

"Do you know what I realized?" JD spoke up after the two of them had finished eating. They were seated in the living room, a soccer game playing on the TV, while they rested from eating what felt like enough spaghetti to feed all of Italy.

"What?" Betty asked from her spot on the armchair. She had opted to not seat on the couch with JD; she didn't know how she would feel knowing that he was that close to her and she didn't want to find out. The daydreams and the indecent thoughts were enough.  IItwasnt even because of Martha, she had left earlier that day, but even so, Betty thought it was best to put some boundaries out of respect for JD.

"I talk so much about myself but I barely know anything about you," JD said. It was true, JD did talk a lot about himself but only because Betty asked a lot of questions, she didn't like being the center of attention and she enjoyed getting to know him, so it was always a win-win.

"There's isn't much to know," she said. "I don't have any interesting stories or anything like that."

"Just tell me anything. Where did you grow up?"

"Cleveland," she said. "And you just did the typical 'Oh, I'm so sorry for you'  expression I normally get when I say that."

JD laughed. "There are worse places if that makes you feel better."

Betty knew that Veronica had also been born in Ohio, in a small town called Sherwood but she was glad JD mention that; she didn't want to think about Veronica.

"Maybe a little."

"Good," he chuckled. "Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?"

"No, at first I wanted to be a doctor but I think that was just because every mom wants that for their kid, including mine," she said. "But I'm very squeamish when it comes to blood and all of that, so I changed my mind when I was like 10."

"And how old are you now?"

"Hm," Betty pursed her lips. She looked down at her watch again, the numbers indicating it was 11:45 p.m. She chuckled.  "You're not going to believe this..."

"What?" he asked curiously.

"I'm turning 30 in 15 minutes."

JD's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he said again. "Really?"

"Yep."

"What a crappy way to spend your birthday, with people you don't know and having to work all day," he said, giving her a sympathetic look.

"I've had worst birthdays," she shrugged.

"Stay right here," JD got up from the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to bake you a birthday cake," he said, already raiding the cabinets to get the ingredients.

"You don't have to do that, it's so late..."

"No, I insist. What kind of birthday doesn't have a cake?" he argued. "Just watch some tv, I'll be done before you know it."

"No way, I have to see that," Betty got up to follow him into the kitchen, unable to contain her smile. That was by far one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her.

50 minutes later JD placed a chocolate cake in front of her. He cut one slice for her and one for himself. The entire kitchen had been invaded by that delicious smell of freshly baked cake.

"This is really good," Betty said, after swallowing another big piece.

"I'll tell you the secret one day," he gave her a playful wink. "There's hm...there's some frosting on your face."

Automatically she placed her fingers on her face. "Here?" she asked.

"No, right here..." he leaned in closer, and gently put his thumb on the corner of her lips. He kept his finger pressed on her mouth for a second too long like he didn't want to let go. He was close, close enough that she could feel his breath on hers and smell his perfume.

Part of Betty was yelling for her to step aside, and get as far away from JD as possible before any of them could get hurt. Betty didn't listen. Instead, she ended the distance between them with a kiss.

He tasted like chocolate. At first, she thought JD would stop her, or pull away but he didn't. Betty was the one to initiate the kiss but JD was the one who took full control. And she allowed him because it felt so good.

It started slowly, but quickly things became intense, desperate. They both wanted it. She felt his hands running wild through her hips, her legs, her hair. Their lips were still touching, his tongue inside her mouth, her heart palpitating inside chest.

His kisses were exactly how Betty had imagined: explosive, ferocious, dangerous. And wrong. So wrong. But at that moment, neither of them seemed to care. It didn't matter that the hand fumbling with her shirt, desperate to yank it off, was the same hand that he wore his wedding ring, or that his wife was on the floor above. None of it mattered because it felt so right. And it felt so good.

She was thankful that Martha wasn't there anymore, otherwise, she would have heard them as they fiercely tried to quench their needs with each other.

Enthralled by it all, Betty didn't plan on stopping with just a kiss. She wanted more. And she probably would have gotten that, if it wasn't for the sound of something shattering on the second floor.

The noise startled the two of them, who broke apart instantly. JD looked at her, panting and his face red, with lipgloss smeared all over his face, and furrowed his brows, confused. A second later he was racing up the stairs in worry, Betty behind him.

He opened the door to Veronica's room and rushed inside, turning on the lights. He was still panting, but something inside Betty made her beloved that it was out of worry for Veronica's wellbeing, and not out of euphoria from the moment they had in the kitchen. And for a second she felt jealous of JD's invalid wife.

Veronica, as expected, was in bed. Her eyes were closed, it looked like she had been none the wiser about the whole commotion. How was it possible that the noise or JD storming inside her room didn't wake her up? Betty supposed she could be groggy from all of the medications she had to take, but still, she thought it was weird.

"Shit," JD's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she stopped staring at Veronica to look at him. On the floor, next to the window was a shattered vase, dozens of pieces, small and big, scattered all over the carpet.

"Did it fall on its own? How?" Betty wondered aloud, more to herself than to him.

"The window is open, it must have been the wind," he said. "Martha probably forgot to close it."

He tiptoed on the floor, trying to avoid stepping on the pieces of broken porcelain, and closed the window, making sure that it was locked this time.

Betty glanced at the sleeping figure on the bed. Veronica looked so peaceful, so fragile. She never would have guessed that Veronica had killed someone.

Betty swallowed the lump in her throat. "You're right, it must have been the wind..."

[lily-blue]

Between you and me

☆ characters: boun & prem ☆ genre: enemies to on-screen lovers au ☆ summary: the anecdote their fans have already heard a thousand times: to prem, everything has started at the kaset fair ☆ words: 9,6k ☆ also: i’d like to dedicate this story to @dat-town​ ♥ i wish you the happiest day, love

Prem had a love-hate relationship with the Kaset Fair. On one hand, he liked that he didn’t have to study for exams or work on assignments for a whole week. He might have needed to leave his dorm early to get everything ready for the 10AM opening with his peers, he might have felt super sticky after the first hours by the grill, but he would have rather bathed in sweat all day than prepare for his theory exams in a crowded library on such a beautiful, sunny day in February.

On the other hand, he absolutely hated interacting with strangers who were down to initiate random conversations with him while he was grilling their pork. He was an introvert. He didn’t want to know about the juiciest gossips on campus or his customers’ personal life just because he couldn’t turn his back on them and walked in the opposite direction. Still, day after day, every second person seemed to have the same misconception about his polite attitude. It was tiring. The noise, the crowd, and that stupid milkshake booth that was across the walkway.

Once Prem served the petite brunette who had paid for two portions of grilled pork before she had started to curse her ex for being so controlling throughout their entire relationship, he let out a tired sigh, which caught his friend’s attention.

Pun closed the metal box they kept the money in and patted Prem’s shoulder in a lazy manner once, twice, three times.

‘You know, if you scoffed at them like you always do whenever I ask for your notes, they would stop acting like you’re their emotional trash can,’ the boy advised, earning a displeased scoff with his comment, similar to the one he was referring to.

Obviously, Prem still had his usual sass to his personality. It was only that he was also pretty competitive and he hated to lose.

‘Yeah, and they would also stop buying our grilled pork,’ he sulked as he brushed his friend’s hand off his shoulder and fixed his uniform. He didn’t want any of his professors to see him with a messy shirt or listen to their comments on how his loose appearance undermined their university’s prestige. It had happened with Ple the year before and her Maths professor didn’t let her live it down up to this day. Prem was already walking on thin ice whenever he entered his Economics 101 class. The last thing he needed was another reason Mr. Pakorn could have picked on him.

‘Would they? It’s tender and savoury,’ Pun retorted with a cheeky smile before he gave a wai to the next person who stopped by their stall. The boy smiled at their new customer like he knew him as he leaned closer to Prem’s ear and lowered his voice. ‘I’m sure anyone could bear a few minutes of silence for it.’

Prem elbowed into his friend’s side with a tight-lipped smile and pushed him further from the grill just in time for their customer to make his order.

‘No, I won’t risk it. See those guys?’ He whisper-shouted, fierce gaze kept on the medium sized pieces of raw meat that he placed on the grill one by one with utmost care. ‘They’ve already stolen too many of our customers,’ he claimed, hoping that his reasoning was enough for his friend to stop pestering him because of his over dramatic sighs. Because if he couldn’t have had at least those to cope with the chattiest customers, he might have truly lost his will to live by the end of the week.

‘Who?’ Pun asked without the tiniest effort to mimic the boy’s hushed tone, which made Prem almost as annoyed at himself for having expectations as annoyed he was because of the laugh that left their customer’s mouth. He shouldn’t have engaged into this conversation in front of others, not when his friend clearly didn’t know how to be subtle.

Pressing his lips together and trying his best to maintain a believable smile, Prem flipped the pork pieces on the grill and reached for a paper plate just to appear to be busy.

‘Who are you talking about? Psst! Prem!’ It took more effort for Prem to shut out his friend’s demanding questions then he would have ever admitted. ‘Prem! Who?’ But at least he had a good enough excuse to disregard his curiosity.

Or so he thought while he was checking the meat every ten seconds.

‘Here! Don’t hesitate to tell everyone about our booth or come back for more,’ Prem handed a full plate of grilled pork to the customer, mentally counting to five, eight, then twelve, before he took a deep breath and turned towards his friend.

As expected, Pun was already with his back to the metal box, eyes pleading and lips pouty as though his puppy face had ever worked on Prem. His walls were more massive and higher than that.

‘The celebrities’ booth,’ Prem claimed with a frown, the mere thought of those people pissing him off. He didn’t need to look at them to be sure they were winking at every passer-by who was close to them in age or that they were sweet talking them out of their money while letting them take pictures with them. ‘A bunch of show-offs.’

‘I’ve heard your grilled pork is really good,’ someone said in a honeyed voice, urging the two boys to pay attention to its owner. And while Prem was ready to put on his pseudo-happy face for whoever their potential customer was, one look at his friend’s bobbing Adam’s apple was enough for him to assume the worst. ‘Is there some left for me?’

Admittedly nervous, Prem turned towards the familiar boy and took a step closer to the grill to resist the urge to gift him with his judgemental stares. Not because he was only brave when there were no consequences, but because his senior was about to pay for their food and Prem was the type of person who had a hard time being disrespectful with people who spent their money on something he was selling.

That, and he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that this guy could have destroyed their booth with a single bad review on his social media.

‘I guess so,’ Prem mumbled as he picked up his grilling tongs and placed the raw pork pieces on the grill. He didn’t want to think about all the ulterior motives the guy from the milkshake booth must have had when he had walked up to them and had even less willingness to give him what he had truly come for, but his palms got embarrassingly clammy, hence he almost dropped a piece of meat when he stole a glance at him.

‘Good. I’ll have two portions, please,’ he ordered with a lopsided smile, but despite the added please and his good manners, Prem felt like this dude was bossing him around on purpose. As though, he had only asked for an extra portion to see him sweat behind the grill.

Calling him a jerk in his head, Prem bobbed his head and made sure the pork was delicious and plenty when he handed the two paper plates to the guy. Then, he watched like a hawk as the older elbowed his way through the slowly growing crowd with a soft, apologetic smile plastered on his face and took a seat next to a girl behind their own stall.

The guy offered some of his grilled meat to the students around him and the sight, for some reason, only made Prem more furious.

‘He doesn’t seem so bad,’ Pun chirped, his amused voice muffled as if it had come from under heavy layers of water; that focused Prem was on the outrageous scene in front of him. There was something in the way this guy carried himself that rubbed the younger in the wrong way and while a part of him felt repulsed just by looking at him and his fans, another part of him wanted to figure him out and beat him in his own game.

‘He obviously came here to spy on us. Now, they’ll come up with new ways to beat us,’ Prem claimed, confident in the conclusion he had come to.

Obviously, he knew their grilled pork tasted amazing, but could it have been delicious enough to make people as calculative as those guys willingly pay for it and advertise it through their purchase? Highly unlikely.

The boy behind Prem let out a disbelieved puff of air.

‘Or… but this one will be wild, so listen!’ Prem tore his gaze from the celebrities’ booth and turned towards his friend, eager to hear his take on the problem. Pun might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he always had reasonable and interesting theories when he was talking about his favourite manga, so Prem was obviously intrigued. ‘Maybe he was just hungry.’

The boy’s whisper-like suggestion felt like a mockery and Prem - with the vivid memory of their senior’s smug grin in the back of his mind - wasn’t having it. Therefore, he narrowed his eyes and hissed at his friend to shut him up.

‘You’re already one of his followers,’ he insisted, disappointment creeping into his voice and facial expressions. ‘I’m telling you, he’s trying to turn us against each other.’

‘You’re overreacting. It’s not even a real competition,’ Pun tried his best to talk some sense into his friend. However, his logical reasoning didn’t seem to reach the stubborn boy. Instead, if that was possible, it made Prem more determined to win this imaginary battle Pun seriously doubted their senior was even aware of.

‘Of course it is,’ the boy spat and the unusual fire in his eyes made Pun genuinely concerned; he just wasn’t keen on breaking it down to the younger that the students at the other booth weren’t interested in them. He would have been stupid to risk angering Prem when his grades strongly depended on his notes.

Pun would have rather gone to war with him and fought than fail his classes.

Thus, when their next customer walked up to their stall, he rushed back behind the metal box and gave a wai to the girl. He even initiated a conversation with her about her favourite parts of the fair, so that she wouldn’t have talked to Prem. In theory, this should have helped the younger boy to let go of his frustration.

If only he had known, Prem spent every undisturbed minute coming up with an unbeatable strategy to diminish the celebrities’ booth!

(Even though he was clearly playing a losing game.)

Prem had always been good at holding grudges. Still, he wasn’t aware of how marvellous he was at it until his eyes fell on a familiar, cheeky figure from across the room at the casting of Until We Meet Again.

The boy obviously hadn’t wasted his breath on cursing at or talking about his senior after the end of that particular university fair - no matter what his friends would have said -, but he had a fairly good memory. Not to mention that it was also hard to forget someone as charming (derogatory) as this dude with his ear-to-ear smile and smug attitude, so it really wasn’t his fault that he immediately recognised the older. He wasn’t obsessed. Hah! Prem would have never been obsessed with someone like him. He was simply annoyed that no one had believed him when he had warned them about his cunning ways with people.

Yes, that was about right. He was annoyed because the other seemed to already have a couple of people wrapped around his finger. Poor souls. They had no idea who they were up against.

Determined to keep his distance, so that the guy couldn’t have sabotaged his audition, Prem didn’t exchange a single word with his university senior. He kept an eye on him, though, to make sure he was prepared in case the older boy approached him. But he might have chosen to play a different kind of mind game this time, because he stayed away from Prem, too. He didn’t walk up to him like the younger boy had predicted based on their previous encounter nor did he acknowledge their history. In fact! He didn’t show any sign of recognizing Prem, which obviously irked the younger.

Knowing how much connections and good manners mattered in the film industry - after all, no company would have protected a troublemaker actor once the public turned against them for whatever reason -, Prem pushed aside his negative feelings and decided to focus on the task at hand: the casting. If he couldn’t have pretended to be on neutral grounds with the guy, why should anyone have chosen him for the role he intended to play?

He could do better than sending daggers into his senior’s way from across the room when he wasn’t even watching.

But it was hard. Not because Prem’s mind was hyper aware of the other boy’s presence - he hated how he had learned his name was Boun without the guy speaking a single word to him -, but because the older boy deliberately ignored him even when the two of them were made to stand next to each other.

It made Prem feel small, insignificant.

It made him furious.

Boun had no idea how lucky he was that Prem had his priorities straight. Otherwise, he might have taught him a few important lessons that his parents had clearly failed to teach him while raising him. For example, how ignoring someone who had served you the most tender grilled pork that had ever touched your bratty mouth was extremely disrespectful and petty.

Yeah, he was lucky Prem wanted that supporting role more than anything at that moment. Or else, he would have made sure Boun had never forgotten his face again.

To say Prem wasn’t happy about the fact that Boun had gotten the role of his own character’s love interest was an understatement. Whenever he thought of the upcoming shootings, the obligatory media appearances where they had to act all lovey-dovey and friendly, the skinship and the affectionate glances… he felt something bitter on the tip of his tongue. As though, his achievement meant less now that the older boy was a part of it, too.

He seriously didn’t understand what had convinced the casting director that they were a good match with Boun when Prem himself couldn’t have pictured himself even holding his hand, but it wasn’t like a rookie actor could have complained about such (outrageous) decisions. A part of him was also convinced that if he had spoken his mind, if he had put his concerns and disappointment in words, he would have lost his chance to play the challenging role of Team in UWMA as they would have immediately looked for a more suitable co-star for Boun.

Why would they have chosen to side with him when they had someone from the celebrities’ booth under their wings?

This conclusion turned the juice sour in Prem’s mouth when following behind P’Paaty during their nth workshop, he refused to interact more with Boun than it was absolutely necessary to keep his place in the cast. He was never hostile. And he put extra effort into his acting so that Team’s slowly forming bond with Win would have looked believable, but once the director called for a break, he refrained himself from any intimacy let it be physical or emotional. Unlike others such as Fluke and Ohm who were playing the main leads, Prem didn’t share personal stories about himself and his family with his co-actor and neither did Boun seem too eager to tell the younger about his childhood, his dreams and motives. 

They were lovers on screen and strangers when the attention wasn’t on them anymore.

It wasn’t how Prem had imagined his first role in a BL drama - or in any show to be honest. He must have been naive for thinking: every couple maintained a friendly relationship when the cameras weren’t rolling.

He was naive for thinking that actors weren’t playing roles in front of their fans, too, just to gain a bigger fandom and earn a name for themselves in the industry through these faceless people’s blind support. Despite its misleading name, fan-service wasn’t only for the fans. It was for the sake of the actors’ career, too. It was pure mutualism; the symbiotic relationship in which both parties benefited. Or so Prem would have liked to believe that it wasn’t just them living off on the young and manipulable.

It was P’Kae’s familiar voice that pulled the boy back to reality and he immediately snapped his head in the writer’s direction, keeping a neutral albeit respectful face despite the boy who was standing next to the woman.

‘I promise I’m not here to reprimand you,’ she started and her calm tone and friendly smile made the younger one believe that she hadn’t walked up to him to scold him for acting on his own instincts regarding his character.

Prem watched as P’Kae turned her head towards his co-star and adjusted her position so that she could have looked at them both at the same time. The whole situation felt a bit unnerving, how it almost felt like the world was moving forwards in slow-mo, but the boy tried to keep his composure and not panic when he stole a glance at his senior and their wary eyes finally met. It seemed Boun was just as clueless as Prem, which should have been reassuring, since it meant Prem wasn’t the only one who was kept in the dark. Yet, somehow, the realisation was as nerve-wracking as it was relieving.

‘You guys have to act together. Please, talk to each other more,’ P’Kae pleaded and the laugh that was scratching the back of Prem’s throat almost found a way to the surface. Oh. So they weren’t about to threaten him to follow the script word by word from now on if he had really wanted to keep his job. P’Kae hadn’t brought Boun along to remind him which one of them would have stayed if he had kept improvising his gestures or to ask the senior to show Prem how he should have acted better. 

The woman was simply worried about their lack of communication.

‘We will do our best, P’Kae. Sorry for making you worried with our behaviour,’ the older boy took it upon himself to apologise on both of their behalves and Prem mimicked Boun’s body language as he also pressed his palms together and bowed his head respectfully.

‘We’re really sorry, P’Kae,’ the younger one repeated and even shot a reassuring smile in the woman’s direction when she narrowed her eyes at them, a bit suspicious, but overall pleased with how cooperative the boys were.

The writer’s reaction made Prem wonder just how distant they seemed with Boun compared to other couples to worry the woman enough to take matters into her own hands, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on this matter. He didn’t, because as soon as P’Kae left them alone, Boun turned towards him with his entire body and cleared his throat, demanding Prem’s full attention.

‘Should we grab some dinner after this?’ He asked and Prem’s eyes widened in surprise due to the senior’s straightforwardness. Boun spoke with so much ease as though it was perfectly normal for the two of them to spend time together after work, but to their misfortune, every bone in the younger’s body knew it wasn’t the case.

They had never spent time together without the rest of the cast.

The mere thought felt weird and intimidating and so unnatural, it tugged on Prem’s insides in an unpleasant way. Still, he knew he had to put his negative feelings aside to not disappoint those who had put their trust in him when they had chosen him for Team’s role.

‘I mean, I’ll most probably be hungry anyway, so… sure. Why not?’ Prem agreed, earning an amused scoff from the older with his answer. He tried to pay no mind to how annoying Boun was when he had fun because of his discomfort, but no one should have expected him to pull a full 180 on the older boy so suddenly, so in the end, Prem allowed himself to scoff back at him before he turned away.

This only made Boun smile wider and Prem wished he wouldn’t have caught a glimpse at the blinding sight from the corner of his eyes. So annoying.

To say their first dinner together had been awkward would have been a huge understatement, because Prem had regretted saying yes even before they had ordered and his discomfort had only grown as time had gone by. In hindsight, it might not have been the best conversation starter to ask Boun about the Kaset Fair, but the younger boy had just couldn’t have helped himself and the realisation that his senior had really forgotten their first encounter had poisoned the atmosphere.

The second time had been less tense. They had been having snacks and ice cream, but Prem had still had a relatively hard time to open up, hence Boun had done almost all the talking. He had shared things with the younger boy that weren’t overly personal: things that Prem could have easily gotten to know about him if only he had paid attention when his co-actor was talking with others during team-building group programmes. The reason why he had become an actor, that nowadays he was interested in directing, too, and how he hadn’t believed that his current career was something that could have given him financial stability.

If Prem wanted to be honest, by their third dinner together, he was aware that Boun wasn’t as awful of a person as he had made him to be in his head. And not just because he always insisted on paying for the food with the unbeatable excuse that he was older. No. The more Prem listened, the more he understood that his co-actor genuinely cared about those around him. To an extent that was actually alarming to someone like Prem who religiously tried to avoid not only being dependent on others, but being used by people who pretended to care.

In exchange, he opened up about his love for golfing, his different dreams throughout the years - how he had been a part of a boyband, too, at one point of his life - and told Boun about the ultimate he had given himself a bit over a year ago: he had two years to either achieve something promising in the entertainment industry that he could have built a career on or find a new path that could have actually taken him somewhere in life.

Luckily, he had been chosen for Team’s role months before his personal deadline and despite playing a supporting role, the project so far seemed promising.

‘Na, I did pretty well, didn’t I? Much better than you expected!’ Boun claimed with a pout that soon turned into a smug grin as he nudged the younger boy with his elbow.

The two of them were sitting in a relatively peaceful corner of the room, munching on their lunch that had been brought for them by the staff members during shooting. Due to the tight schedule, that day there wasn’t a fixed lunch break in their call sheet when everyone could rest in the canteen. Instead, they were having a running lunch, which meant both the crew and the actors ate when they weren’t needed on set.

‘Stop fishing for compliments!’ Prem grumbled, even though the barely visible smile in the corner of his mouth made it obvious that Boun’s little dancing between their chicken pad thai and mango sticky rice had indeed entertained him.

Still, Prem wasn’t stupid enough to flatter his ego. Because if not him, who would have kept his senior on his toes?

‘Just admit you’re impressed,’ the older boy insisted, mimicking the choreography of Magic by Goblin Project with his hands and upper body. It should have been annoying, the thought crossed Prem’s mind once again, but seeing Boun’s wide, almost proud smile stirred a dozen of different emotions in him instead.

He felt shy and somewhat touched that after mentioning their band to his senior once, he had taken his time to search them up and memorise the steps.

‘Fine. I’m not not impressed,’ Prem gave in, busying himself with his dessert although he did not avoid eye contact. That would have given Boun the (correct) idea that he felt bashful due to the sudden attention on him and his unsuccessful singer career; despite how his senior was slowly albeit steadily growing on him, Prem didn’t want him to know that he considered him a friend.

‘Meanie,’ Boun mumbled, his pout too exaggerated for Prem to believe his partner wasn’t amused under the surface. The older boy might have been a talented actor, but when it was only the two of them with Prem, he never put real effort into tricking the younger. Which often made Prem wonder how could someone this cringe and touchy be so cool in everyone’s eyes.

The chuckle that escaped the younger’s mouth was so quiet, it was barely audible, but Boun sat close enough to him to feel it through their touching shoulders. Therefore, he joined the laughter with his own, louder giggles before the comfortable silence enveloped them again.

It didn’t take long until the first assistant director called for Prem as the next scene was an interior one in the school building that he shot with Sammy and Fluke, the actors who played the role of Team’s best friends. Not quite finished with his mango sticky rice, Prem shoved the plastic container in his senior’s hand and told him he could have had it if he had wanted, then bowed his head out of habit and rushed after the tall, middle-aged man.

Unlike many others, Prem didn’t have more scenes for the day. Still, he was determined to give an excellent, neat performance, so that those who were scheduled after them wouldn’t have to stay longer due to an uncalculated delay. It happened more often than most people would have assumed, but just because it was a natural part of shooting, it didn’t mean he couldn’t have tried to save valuable minutes for the rest of the crew.

Although he was bound to make mistakes - everyone was - and sometimes the estimated time for a scene was well thought out, he tried every time.

The soft trembles of Prem’s hands went unnoticed by every crew member and the rest of the cast until the stylist deemed Boun’s outfit for the next scene perfect - a plain white tee and a pair of dark soft-looking pants, nothing groundbreaking - and the older boy took notice of them as soon as he sat next to him. Not that he was trying too hard to hide how nervous he was; he believed that everyone would have felt jittery before their first kiss. Still, his senior’s attentiveness was appreciated.

‘Just tell me when it gets too much and we’ll take a break,’ Boun said, his gaze stuck on the younger’s drumming legs while Prem was staring ahead, at their reflection in the huge vanity mirror a few metres from them. They were in one of the wooden houses they had booked for the shooting. However, unlike the one in which Team would pull Win close for a drunk kiss, this one was lacking essential furniture and was full of clothes, make-up items and hairspray.

It was more crowded, too.

‘I’m fine,’ he retorted after a couple of silent heartbeats, because even though Boun’s offer was considerate of him, they shouldn’t have taken deliberate breaks just because the younger boy’s heart was drumming in his chest, throat and ears at the thought of kissing another guy.

He had known what he had signed up to when he had auditioned for the role. And it wasn’t like he had anything against Boun anymore. The senior might have been touchy and dorky, but he was a good friend and a person he felt safe and comfortable with.

‘I’ve never said you weren’t,’ the older claimed as he shifted his gaze from Prem’s legs to his face. He put his hand on Prem’s and gave it a little squeeze before he rested his head on the younger’s shoulder. ‘I’m saying we can take breaks.’

Prem let out a sigh. He was contemplating whether he should have thanked the other that he was prioritising his comfort or scold him for encouraging him to disregard the call sheet.

In the end, he did neither. Instead, he puffed his cheeks and squeezed his senior’s hand back, holding onto him until they were asked to do a quick rehearsal before rolling.

Boun was the first one to react: he stood up and pulled Prem up into a standing position as well, not letting go of him until they were in the wooden house where the cameras were almost set. As they got in position, the blond boy shot an encouraging smile in Prem’s direction, earning an eye roll from the younger that soon turned into a dopey smile.

P’Kae was monitoring them when Prem’s back hit the soft blankets and the dreaded scene, albeit without anyone else really paying attention to them, began.

“I’m lazy,” Prem recited his lines, slowly pushing himself up on his elbows, staring at Boun who kept looking down at him. “Why? Am I disgusting?” He asked, his mind slowly merging with his character’s fuzzy brain.

And so when Prem ceased to exist, Team came alive.

The shock on the younger’s face was masked by his supposed drunkenness when Win pushed him on his back again, into the sheets. Suddenly, the whole world reduced to the two of them and for a passing moment they did nothing else, but let themselves get lost in the other’s hazy eyes.

When Win’s warm lips brushed against Team’s neck: the pulsing vein that throbbed under his hot skin, the younger boy gulped to clear his mind.

“Not really,” Win claimed and that was the cue, they both knew it. Everyone around them did. Still, Prem’s hands were shaking and he fell out of character as he belatedly reached out to pull his senior’s head towards his own.

It was clumsy and out of pace, but eventually Boun’s lips landed on his and cages his lower lip with his, nibbling on it softly. Soft. The boy’s lips were softer than Prem had expected a man’s lips to feel, not that he had been daydreaming about kissing his senior too much, just to prepare himself mentally.

Lost in his own thoughts, the younger boy barely registered when his co-actor pulled away. It was the worry in Boun’s eyes that he noticed first. Then, the older boy’s soft caresses on his cheek.

‘You forgot your line. Was it that good?’ The blond boy asked jokingly and while the teasing tone of his voice made Prem scoff, he was grateful that Boun knew babying him would have caused more damage. This way, he could ground himself while rolling his eyes and push Boun off himself without feeling flustered.

‘You’re just too heavy,’ Prem complained, lighthearted but pseudo-grumpy, relieved to get to know from P’Kae that they still had a couple of minutes before the lightning crew finished the preparations.

Kissing Boun didn’t get easier immediately, but by the time the camera was rolling, Prem felt more confident. Therefore, most of the retakes the director deemed necessary were the result of the man’s new ideas and those unplanned angles he wanted them to try out.

“You’re always like this. You always fool around,” Prem recited when his character and Win came up for air after their kiss, his gaze accusatory, but weak for the man who was towering over him.

It was an intense moment. A make or break for the couple.

The tension in the air made the younger boy’s chest feel heavy.

“If I’m serious, will you promise me? That you won’t run away,” Win’s dark eyes bored deep in the younger boy’s before he leaned forwards, faces so close, the two boys’ breath mingled before their noses touched momentarily. “In this world, you can be afraid of anything, I’ll be right beside you,” Win started and Team’s entire body was buzzing with excitement and anxiety while the older boy delivered Prem’s favourite lines from the entire episode. “But you cannot be afraid of me. Do you understand?”

The silence that followed the question grew longer than it was supposed to be, but somehow it felt right. Especially when the older boy reached out for Team’s hand and slowly lifted it to his own heart.

“Especially my feelings for you,” the confession rolled off from Win’s lips and Prem decided to go with the flow since no one in the room had called cut.

Changing their position and pushing his senior into the sheets would have been more difficult if Boun hadn’t caught up with the younger boy’s intention, but during the past few weeks, the two of them had grown closer, so it came almost naturally. And it fitted so well with the rest of the scene, with their characters and how the two swimmers felt not just for each other at that moment, but themselves as well.

Longing, dread, want. They all mixed together, in their eyes, when Team promised to not run away, but begged his lover to catch him if he did.

They wrapped up the shooting sooner than Prem would have liked, however, they were mere supporting characters with Boun, so it was natural that it had felt short. A part of the boy was convinced it would have felt the same even if they had had more screen time - which was a silly and useless thought. Especially because the project was still far from being over.

The promotions of UWMA left the young boy with little time to concentrate on anything else, let alone a new series, but he wanted to make use of the sudden popularity he had gained with the show before his fifteen minutes of fame ended. He feared the moment the public forgot about Team as he was still a newbie actor, hence he couldn’t put forward too many successful roles that could have convinced other directors to work with him.

So he might have messed up and had forgotten to eat or drink before one of the interviews he had with Boun because he had gotten too lost in the script that his manager had gotten him for consideration, but Prem seriously hadn’t noticed he was starving until it was too late.

The cameras were already rolling. They had been rolling for a while by then, actually.

‘What are the secrets you know about each other, but others don’t?’ The woman asked, the answer of her previous question lost somewhere in the white noise that rang in the boy’s ears. He felt dizzy, but he refrained from reaching out to Boun and seeking support in his presence.

The older was already doing enough, keeping up the conversation on both of their behalves.

‘I know a good one!’ Boun started, nudging his partner with his shoulder lightly to pull him back to the present without being too direct about his intention or worries. It was clear, at least to Prem, that his senior didn’t want to put him under the spotlight, but that he wanted to know he was alright and with them. So the boy shot a small albeit reassuring smile in his direction. Still a bit doubtful, Boun’s gaze loitered on Prem’s features briefly before he turned back towards the woman and the crew. ‘Prem sleeps with the lights on. He keeps the lights in front of the bathroom on,’ he shared, his eyes turning softer immediately when he swung his arms over younger’s shoulder, teasing him with exaggerated, cooing noises.

Prem felt too tired to push him away or pinch his side with just enough force for the older to pull away on his own.

But he still resisted the urge to lean into his body and let him support a part of his weight.

‘He does?’ The woman asked, her giggles ringing in the younger boy’s ears. ‘And how would you know that?’

Prem had the answer; it was on the tip of his tongue, really. It would have been so easy to admit that he had slept over at Boun’s place after a particularly draining workshop, then tease the older with how whiny he had gotten when he had refused to turn off the lights. The boy was confident that their fans would have loved the story. Yet, Prem’s mouth felt dry and his mind a little fuzzy while he unconsciously leaned against his senior.

He could feel the muscles in Boun’s body tense when the other pulled him against his side with a firm hand on his hip.

He should have been smarter and eaten before the interview.

‘That’s a secret for another day,’ Boun joked, his intention to gain everyone’s attention in the room nowhere near as smooth as he must have believed. Still, his silly albeit considerate attempt tugged the corners of Prem’s lips upwards.

The boy tilted his head backwards to be able to look at his senior’s face and when their eyes met, he shot a grateful smile in his way that he regretted only a little when he was reminded of the interviewer’s presence. Because the woman clearly misunderstood the gesture or was too eager to misunderstand it on purpose.

‘Na?’ She cooed before she clicked her fingers with a knowing smile as though she had just discovered something groundbreaking. ‘That explains why K’Prem looks so tired today,’ she stated, clearly making fun of the younger’s pale complexion and the concealed bags under his eyes.

Lacking a good retort and energy to deal with the question politely, Prem let out an awkward laugh and shook his head. He wasn’t about to start a scandal, acting rude and disrespectful, but it would have been a lie to say he wasn’t afraid of the potential tsunami this live interview could have started. What if their fans had taken his flustered reaction the wrong way and genuinely believed that there was something real going on between Boun and him? What had this woman been thinking?

Prem heard the growling sound that came from his right first. Then, he realised that it was his senior who failed to contain his anger. It wasn’t a particularly new phenomenon that Boun’s protective instinct kicked in when it came to Prem, but it was definitely new that it happened in front of cameras. Thus, Prem needed a moment to put himself together and think through his options.

He could have denied the implication in his usual, blunt manner, but that opportunity might have been already out the window due to how long it had taken him to organise his thoughts. He could have also diverted the topic, but seeing the fire in the interviewer’s eyes, Prem had a hunch that the woman wouldn’t have let go of the current one without a fight. And he was too tired for that, which meant that he had to approach the situation from a different angle.

He had to calm Boun the hell down.

In hindsight, pinching the older in his side was a very stupid idea, but Prem was running short on time and there was no way he could have hugged him from behind like he usually did on set. That would have only added oil to the fire.

‘Won’t you tell them why I look like a zombie today? As K’Joy kindly implied,’ Prem asked, his voice a bit on the raspy side due to the lack of use. It took everything in him to maintain a somewhat teasing attitude when all he wanted was surrender to gravity that turned his limbs as heavy as a rock. Or a pile of rock. A goddamn mountain.

The panicked yelp that escaped the interviewer’s throat was satisfying to hear, but it didn’t do much to ground the younger boy, hence Prem lost the thread of the conversation somewhere between Boun rambling about a dinner with the UWMA cast that he had no recollection of and P’Kae’s request that had left them no choice but to get to know each other better in their free time. Neither of these had anything to do with Prem’s exhaustion, but breaking down the disappointing truth for their fans wasn’t their responsibility.

If being an actor had paid so well in Thailand, there wouldn’t have been a reason for so many of them to start their own brand after their debut. Likewise, just because they had a successful project behind their back, neither Boun, nor Prem had a stable footing in the industry.

Acting might not have been as challenging as working on a boat in the middle of the sea, but they also had to work hard to earn their place, to earn money.

They also had to decide whether they put in extra effort to be able to chase their dreams or slept a couple of hours more.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you guys. I think I can confidently say we all wish you a successful comeback in the near future. Until then, please give a lot of love to Until We Meet Again,’ the woman’s professional outro echoed in Prem’s mind before he felt a pair of firm hands on his upper arms and someone turned his body a few degrees to the right.

‘When was the last time you ate? Did you forget to bring a water bottle with you again?’ His senior asked and Prem let out an amused huff when the older took his face into his hands, the soft pads of his fingers doing wonders to his tired skin.

‘Breakfast,’ Prem admitted without agreeing with the obvious. Clearly, he still needed to get used to carrying a water bottle with himself when he knew he would have a long day. But it was more difficult than Boun made it to be. Building new habits was always difficult.

‘Your next schedule?’ Boun asked, his voice neutral despite the worry that was evident in his eyes. A part of Prem wanted to apologise for messing up their interview so badly, but another part of him knew his senior didn’t need his apology. He simply wanted Prem to take better care of himself.

‘In two hours, but it’s on the other side of the city,’ he informed his partner who processed his words with a firm nod and let his hands fall from Prem’s puffy cheeks to his shoulders, then back by his own sides.

Although he deemed himself an independent person, Prem let his senior pull him towards the changing rooms and didn’t complain when Boun claimed he would accompany him to the audition of the new series he was eyeing. He knew even his manager wouldn’t have a bad word about it as the old man found the blond actor a respectful nong who was caring and trustworthy. He knew Boun wouldn’t have tried to sabotage him and if anything, he would have cheered Prem on even if he had performed poorly.

But Boun was determined to do more than that. He ordered food at the location of the casting and made sure Prem was well-fed and hydrated by the time it was his turn to act out a part of the script. He encouraged him and chatted the minutes away to take the younger’s mind off the mistakes he had frequently made during practising.

He was there and in a way, it made everything a bit easier for Prem even though he knew his scolding was yet to come. Boun didn’t forget his carelessness. He just pushed his frustration aside temporarily, so that he could have prioritised the younger boy’s needs.

He always did that when it came to people he cared about.

No matter how tiring it could get, his schedule during the promotions, Prem didn’t want it to end. However, time waited for no man and the young boy obviously wasn’t an exception.

Head leaning against a firm shoulder and arms heavy from the alcohol in his system, Prem made one last attempt at reaching out for another piece of crispy chicken skin before he gave up and accepted that it was too much work.

‘You should eat some more,’ Boun’s voice came from the boy’s left while someone else let out an obnoxious laugh on his right. It took Prem a couple of embarrassingly long seconds to remember: he was out with a few members of the UWMA cast, celebrating after their very last show together.

He didn’t see what was there to be so happy about.

‘Are you even listening?’ Boun asked, this time, a little louder, although Prem had heard him clearly the first time as well. He just found it weird: answering to a statement he agreed with, but was too tired to carry out. Would it have been ridiculous if he had asked the older to feed him with some delicious, crispy chicken skin? Hadn’t the two of them been already over that point in their friendship when trivial things like embarrassment and shame mattered?

‘Maybe we should call him a taxi. He’s pretty much half-asleep already,’ Sammy said with her phone in her hand. Her eagerness, albeit coming from a kind heart, made the tipsy Prem want to scowl at her. Who had told her he wanted to go home and sleep? He was hungry and about to ask Boun to give him some bar snacks before the next round of alcohol.

‘I don’t want to,’ he grumbled, his voice barely audible because of the constant background noise at the pub and the fact that his head was hanging low, gaze fixed on his knees instead of his friends.

‘I’ll take him home,’ Boun claimed, completely disregarding the younger boy’s wishes as if Prem was a child who couldn’t make decisions on his own. If he had wanted to drink himself under the table and fall asleep in public, he had just as much right to do so as everyone else! Well, not that he had such plans for the night. But he didn’t want to leave so soon, either.

‘Are you sure, phi?’ Fluke’s voice sounded borderline amused and it confused Prem’s already overwhelmed brain. Shouldn’t he have been disappointed that their senior was leaving or annoyed with Prem for drinking too much and unintentionally ending the party for Boun so soon? In his shoes, the younger boy would have clicked his tongue, displeased, that he had needed to say goodbye to his partner before time because of someone else’s irresponsibility. ‘Text us when you’re home.’

‘I said I don’t wanna,’ Prem pressed, linking his arms in front of his chest to give emphasis to his words, but it didn’t work. No one was listening to him and Ohm even had the audacity to steal his straw basket full of crispy chicken skin as if Prem didn’t need it anymore. He was so hungry, though.

Getting up from the table was a challenge in itself, giving a wai to everyone without losing his balance an even bigger one, but Boun put the boy’s hand on his shoulder once they turned their back to their friends and supported him on the way out of the place. He kept Prem close until the taxi arrived and let him rest his head on his shoulder throughout the ride.

The boy couldn’t have told whether the traffic was exceptionally light that night or he had fallen asleep at one point during the drive, but the next thing he took notice of after giving himself to the tranquil atmosphere in the backseat was the warm breeze against his skin while they were walking towards his building. Time really didn’t want to go easy on him and stop for his sake. If anything, it was outright mocking Prem with how quickly each hour slipped through his fingers.

‘Here, you’re good to go,’ Boun said, a sigh escaping his mouth as he straightened his spine. Prem furrowed his brows in confusion just to follow the older’s line of sight for answers and realise that his shoes weren’t on his feet anymore.

They stood in front of the front door for long seconds before Boun patted the younger boy’s butt and nudged him forwards, one clumsy step closer to the bathroom.

‘If you’re too tired to take a shower, at least wash your teeth,’ Boun said with an endeared grin, drawing Prem’s attention to the importance of basic hygiene, which obviously wasn’t a new concept to him. However, it was late and the thought of undressing and dragging himself under the showerhead had never been so unappealing.

He would have much preferred to drown in his fluffy blankets.

Still, tipsy Prem was powerless against his senior who took his hand in his and led him to the bathroom. Boun made sure the younger boy was able to keep his balance after he had helped him sit on the toilet lid and held his toothbrush under the running water before he put some toothpaste on it and shoved it into Prem’s hand.

Still a bit grumpy because he couldn’t have stayed at the party, the younger boy wasn’t happy about the fact that he was treated like a baby even in his own home, but he followed Boun to his bedroom after rinsing and didn’t push the older’s hand away when he hovered over him to tuck him in. Mostly, because it meant Boun was still there, hence the night hadn’t come to an end. Not yet.

Prem’s body acted on autopilot when he reached for the blond boy’s hand, his fingers curling around his wrist firmly at the first sight of Boun leaving. His thoughts might have been a bit mushy, but he felt it in his core that he wasn’t ready to let go of the past months.

‘Stay,’ he pleaded, watching as Boun’s other hand tentatively touched his fingers and peeled them off himself. The action, albeit gentle, tugged the younger boy’s lips downwards. ‘I don’t want it to end,’ he explained, willing to show vulnerability if that gave his senior a reason to give another thought to his request. It wasn’t that they had never slept at each other’s place before. In fact! Prem was sure if they had looked into his wardrobe, they could have found one of Boun’s oversized tees there, waiting for the boy to sleep in it again.

Prem’s eyes widened in surprise when Boun leaned down to him and took his right cheek in his hand, caressing his skin softly. Even without filters, Prem had the decency to ponder: maybe he was acting too clingy, but the pillowy touch of the older’s lips against his forehead diminished all of his insecurities that started to scratch themselves into the surface.

‘I’ll be quick, I promise. Just let me wash up first,’ Boun whispered against his hair before he pulled away with a cheeky grin and grabbed a random piece of clothing from the wardrobe along with that green towel he had claimed as his on the first night he had slept over.

Prem watched him walk away, a grateful smile blooming in the corner of his mouth when he noticed that the older turned on the lights in front of the bathroom. Oh! He had completely forgotten about them, which was ridiculous. He had been sleeping with the lights on since he could have remembered. It was a huge part of his existence the way snacks were Team’s.

Prem was feeling nostalgic, his mind full of memories about the shooting and his character, when the bed dipped behind his back and his body rolled from his side to his back without any particular command from his brain. He looked up at the person who was looking down at him, weight supported by his elbows, and smiled. Boun had kept his word. He was as quick as those comic book characters with superpowers.

Or Prem was too drunk to perceive time.

‘Are you okay? Do you want me to bring a bowl or something?’ Boun’s voice came through a thick fog, but Prem was quick to shake himself out of the momentary numbness. He wasn’t sleepy. He was not sleepy. He hoped if he had repeated it enough times in his head, his body would also believe it.

His eyelids shouldn’t have felt so heavy.

‘Do you think we will have other projects?’ The younger boy asked quietly, determined to fight the tiredness in his bones at least for a little longer.

‘Together or in general?’ Boun answered with his own question, making the boy realise there were more than one option. Up until this moment, his thoughts zeroed in on only one of them, the one that made him more comfortable and less stressed about what ifs. What if the script had pushed him out of his comfort zone too much? What if the cast members hadn’t been as welcoming as their little UWMA family? What if his new partner had only liked him in front of the cameras?

Prem turned his head to the left, watching as Boun fixed the fluffy blanket over them so that it would cover the younger more, from his toes all the way to his chin. He acted like Prem’s mom when she wanted to make sure her son didn’t catch a cold during monsoon season and the resemblance made him chuckle. Especially because they had had an entire week without rain. The weather was rather warm despite the late hour.

‘Together. I want to work with you again, phi,’ he answered, convinced that even if his acting had improved over the years, he wouldn’t have been able to feel as comfortable kissing another man as he was when it was Boun who was touching him. Because when it was him, Prem knew he would have never gone overboard for the sake of the show without consulting with him in advance. 

‘Dunno. I was actually thinking of becoming a director. You know, since I’m already a bit old for a rookie,’ the blond boy admitted, his tone casual yet practical like he didn’t have many regrets and those he had didn’t hurt him much. Meanwhile, what he was saying shook Prem’s entire world with the force of a bullet train.

He sat up quick enough to make his head hurt and turned towards Boun with his entire body, palms finding a home on the older’s upper arm.

‘What? No, you can’t!’ He said, panic creeping its way into his entire being. Prem had known that it had always been an option that he might not have had another role like Team. He knew the public could have forgotten about him before he could have really made it. However, not having Boun at least as a fellow actor? That had never crossed his mind. ‘You need to keep acting so we could work together again,’ he pleaded, throwing the remnants of his inhibition and dignity out the window.

Prem’s eyes were teary - and later, when sober, he would definitely blame everything on the alcohol that amplified his stress -, when Boun reached out to him and fixed his messy hair. The palpable gentleness of the gesture made the younger feel as though he was about to be lectured on how certain aspects of Boun’s life didn’t necessarily concern him, so he swatted his senior’s hand away and turned his head to the opposite direction. 

He didn’t want to hear it, because then he might have actually accepted that the blond boy was right and he was acting ridiculous.

‘I’m serious. You can’t leave me alone,’ Prem mumbled, the sound quiet and whine-like even though he was trying his best to not act more pathetic than he had already felt.

The silence that embraced the boys was heavy with tension before Boun pushed himself into a sitting position and put both of his hands on Prem’s shoulders. He turned the younger boy towards himself and waited patiently until he looked at him.

‘Fine,’ Boun said, his characteristic, endeared smile giving the younger hope and tugging on his heartstrings at the same time. ‘If we come across another chance to play a couple, I’ll be there for you. Right by your side.’

‘Promise?’ Prem whispered, earning a nod from his senior. ‘Always?’ Another nod followed without any hesitation. ‘You would stay? For me?’ The third and the fourth nods urged Prem to launch at the older, kicking the air out of the blond boy’s lungs with his speed and the force he clinged onto him.

They stayed in that clumsy hug until Boun’s caresses on the boy’s back made Prem believe that he wasn’t dreaming, then the older tucked him back under the blankets and pulled his head atop of his own chest.

Like this, finishing their first project together didn’t make Prem so anxious anymore that it kept him awake for hours. Instead, he felt protected in the present and excited about the future as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

the end.

[butternuggets-blog]

Prompt: Did You Hear That?

Entry for Adarafaelbarba’s Trick or Treat Bingo

Heavily inspired by @minim236 ‘s post

Scary/Minor Gore

Day One

‘Did you hear that?!’ Lucius sat bolt upright in his bedroll, gladius in hand, as he glanced about. Felix sat up as well, crusty-eyed and messy-haired. The rest of the squad snored on around them.

‘I don’t hear anything'

Felix tugged at the back of Lucius' tunic but the older boy shook him off.

'Come rest. I need my sleep.'

‘I’m not stopping you’ Lucius snapped. They froze suddenly as a low, thin sound blew past them.

‘It’s the wind making the trees creak’ Felix pointed between the now pale Lucius, and the forest encroaching on the edge of the tiny clearing.

The teenagers were lumped together in the middle of the encampment. A Roman encampment usually meant tents, but the foliage was such a tangled mess this deep into the woods that they were sleeping on their bedrolls in small piles.

They had been telling each other ghost stories before they went to bed. Lucius' nerves had been wound up more than he'd care to admit.

Felix grabbed the back of Lucius' tunic and pinned him back down into his bedroll with his arm.

‘Come. Sleep.’

‘...Fine’ Lucius grumbled, settling reluctantly back onto the ground, flinching as the whistling, moaning noises continued to echo through the clearing.

________________________________________________________________

Day Three

Lucius frowned down at his pack. He had emptied out everything into neat rows in the mud beside him, and he still hadn’t been able to find his spare set of greaves.

‘Has anyone seen my scarf?’ Vitus ambled up, wriggling a finger in one ear. He stopped next to Lucius. ‘Oh, are you looking for something too?’

‘My spare greaves. I have looked everywhere.’

‘Things have gone missing all over camp,’ Felix said. He ate the last of his broth, and wiped the bowl with a chunk of bread. He waved it towards Marianus, Albus, and Spurius.

‘Verus has charged them with guard duty over the armourery tonight. The things that have been taken are only small; tent pegs, sandals, several lengths of rope. But the commander is urging vigilance, in case weapons are taken.’

‘Who do they think has done this?’ Lucius sneered at Vitus’ question, and jabbed a finger towards the forest around them.

‘Those creatures that call this place home. Gauls playing tricks on us, no doubt.’

‘But there were no tracks...’

Every boy snapped his gaze towards Albus. The sudden intense scrutiny made him blush.

‘There...there were no tracks anywhere in camp. Not animal, nor human. As if no creature had walked among us.’

Lucius felt a shiver roll up his spine.

***

The rattling whistle of the wind was louder than it had been all week. Lucius tossed and turned, trying to keep his mind blank to trick himself into unconsciousness.

A particularly loud moan nearby made him shoot up from his bedroll, panicked. He glared nervously out into the darkness, watching the trees intently for a few moments, before he lay back down.

Lucius was just beginning to get comfortable when his eyes snapped open.

The trees hadn't been moving.

There was no wind.

________________________________________________________________

Day Six

Lucius woke up right as Verus was aiming a kick at his thigh.

'Up, boy. Time for you to take watch'

'Yes sir'

Verus lay down on Lucius' still-warm bedroll as he pulled his gladius free from its scabbard and stood to attention. The commander normally slept a ways off from the rest of the squad, but it was too dangerous for that now.

The moaning had stopped the night before, and the sudden change was doing Lucius's head in. He had been jumping at shadows more than was necessary, including accidently nearly drawing his sword on other people approaching him from behind that he hadn't known were there.

If he kept up this he was going to get himself accused of cowardice.

****

Everything was gone.

Lucius stared around him, slackjawed.

Everything was...gone.

He had awoken that morning to the camp in uproar. Every piece of equipment, every scrap of cloth, every tent and saddle and pack had vanished.

‘At least it left us our bedrolls. And food.’ Albus nudged an upturned cooking pot with the tip of one sandle. ‘And the cauldrons.’

Lucius swallowed drily.

________________________________________________________________  

Day Seven

The mud sticking to the bottom of Lucius’ sandals had splattered half way up his thighs. His fringe was plastered across his eyes, and the river of sweat pouring down his face kept dripping under his collar, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

‘Are we in the Underworld?’ Vitus gasped, as quietly as he could. The humidity had been rising steadily all day, and the forest had seemingly trapped the worst of it around them just as the night rolled in.

Lucius was fairly certain he was eating, rather than breathing, the air.

‘Pluto’s throne room would be cooler than this’ Spurius wheezed. He was at the edge of the squad formation, and kept having to stop every third step to haul Marianus and Albus forward out of the mire.

‘Eyes forward, stop talking’ Lucius choked out. He was at the front, leading the squad in a loose circular patrol around the camp. He shoved a low branch out of the way, and leant wearily against the trunk of the tree, catching his breath for a moment, waiting for the others to catch up.

A thin gust of wind stroked his face teasingly and he closed his eyes.

‘What is that?’

Lucius’ eyes snapped open.

Albus was pointing at something up ahead. Lucius squinted through the darkness; there was a large...thing...gently swaying in the sudden breeze, hanging down from the canopy above.

Lucius snuck closer.

It was armour.

Lucius shivered apprehensively.

The armour was strung up with rope, the thick cord providing a skeleton for the bodiless clothes. The end of the rope disappeared into the lightless canopy.

'Touch it!'

Lucius jumped, startled. Spurius slapped Albus.

'Do not touch it!'

'The rope looks like a noose' Felix squeaked.

Lucius took a deep breath to steady himself, drew his blade, and poked the leather breastplate with the tip of the gladius.

Nothing happened.

Lucius snorted and shoved his sword back into its scabbard, feeling angry with himself.

'There. Now, move-'

CLANK

Lucius spun on his heel in time to see the armour fly up the tree and out of sight. He clawed for his sword as he stumbled back to join the others; the boys pressed together, back to back, wild-eyed and shivering with shock.

'Who's there?' Lucius barked. 'Show yourself!'

In the tense pause they heard distant shouts erupt from across the camp. Felix cocked his head and listened intently.

'I think they have found more...bodies'

The squad pressed even closer together, swords raised high, breathing heavily.

Then all hell broke loose.

Blood and viscera rained down from above, splattering across their horrified faces. Thick ropes, knotted and tangled in a net spread wide across the entire clearing, shot out from the canopy; strung from it, dangling in a bizarre tableau, was every single piece of missing equipment.

Clothes and armour fought each other with spears and swords tied to empty, limbless sleeves. Tents torn to shreds and split-open packs were jumbled together in clumps or stuffed into tunics and breastplates to give certain mannequins extra realism.

Lucius turned white; Felix and Albus screamed, snapping him back to reality, right as Vitus, Spurius and Marianus fell down on top of each other as they attempted to flee.

________________________________________________________________ 

Phoebe was smiling with horrified fascination through her fingers.

‘What did you do after that?’

‘We left’ Baldwin chewed a handful of almonds absentmindedly.

‘Did you find out who did it?’

‘Not specifically. It was definately someone from one of the local villages- what?’

Phoebe was pointing next to Baldwin; he turned to face Martin, who looked like he was struggling to decide between laughing and feeling extremely guilty.

‘...oh you bastard-’

‘I’m sorry-ow! ow! stop hitting me!’

Phoebe broke down giggling as Baldwin thumped Martin repeatedly with a pillow.

‘I had nightmares for weeks! WEEKS! After that!’

‘I promise I’ll make it up to you’

‘EW!’ Phoebe squealed, blushing red.

[noelleai]

Noelle woke up, as she usually did at this time. The sun was rising and she could hear the birds chirping outside her window. She had gotten used to hearing them around here; it made for a peaceful start to any morning. But today would be different. Today would be special.

She got out of bed, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was long, brown, and messy. It fell over her shoulders, covering half of her face. She ran her hand through it, trying to smooth it down some. Then she noticed something strange about her reflection: the background behind her seemed to be shifting. The walls were melting away into an unfamiliar scene, one that looked like a dream world. A small forest stretched out behind her, and the sky overhead was blue.

It wasn't really a dream—she knew what dreams felt like now, having been inside many of them since coming back from where she'd gone before. This was real. And there was something else unusual about her appearance, too. She didn't recognize these clothes on her body. They were colorful, and they fit her perfectly, but they weren't hers.

Her mind raced to make sense of everything. Was someone playing a trick on her? Did someone know how to travel between worlds? Could this all possibly be a coincidence? But why would anyone want to do anything so cruel to her?

She looked behind her. There was no sign of her bedroom. Instead, a forest stretched out behind her, filled with tall trees. A soft breeze blew by, making leaves rustle in the wind. An odd creature stood nearby, dressed in simple clothing. It smiled at her, then motioned toward the forest.

Where am I? What's happening to me? Why am I not afraid?

The questions kept running through her mind, leaving little room for coherent thought.

"Come," said the creature, "the woods are waiting."

The creature looked menacing, but also kind. In fact, it seemed familiar somehow...Noelle tried hard to remember where she had seen him before, even though he scared her. His smile made her feel safe; his voice soothed her nerves. He spoke slowly, as if he understood every word that left her mouth. But who was he? She wanted more time just to stare into those beautiful eyes.

She followed him, stepping onto a path that led deeper into the forest. Her body felt light, and yet strangely heavy at the same time. Everything felt too vivid, too real. She knew there were things out there beyond the tree line—she could see them now—but she wasn't sure what they were or how far away they were. For some reason, however, they didn't seem threatening.

He stopped suddenly, then turned around. He waited for her, smiling reassuringly again. When she caught up with him, they continued on their way. They walked down an old road of dirt, overgrown with weeds, mossy stones sticking out from beneath patches of mud. There was something magical about this place, something mystical. It was all so strange.

Then something came flying from the sky. It swooped past her, its wings flapping frantically. A dark shadow passed overhead. It circled back, landing in the middle of the street. Then it looked right at Noelle, cocking its head to one side. She took a step backward in fear.

The creature put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. The thing flew closer to them both; it hovered above them for a moment, studying Noelle carefully. Its beady black eyes met hers; then the creature let out another caw and lifted into the air again. It followed after them as they went along the path.

"Don't worry," said the creature's voice once more behind her. "You're safe."

"Safe?" she asked incredulously. "From what?"

Noelle paused when she heard voices ahead of them. She craned her neck around to look. Three people walked toward her, talking amongst themselves: a lizard, a humanoid bird, and a large green dragon. All three were bipedal, wearing similar clothing to the one she had on. Their faces were covered with white masks, which made them difficult to tell apart. Only the lizard spoke directly to her, holding his hands up in the air.

"I'm sorry we startled you," he said. "We mean no harm." He gestured to his companions, saying something else. Then he pointed to himself and added, "I am called Desmond. These two are my friends: Penelope and Huxley. We hope you'll enjoy your stay here."

Penelope nodded, and Huxley smiled broadly.

Desmond stepped forward, extending his hand. Noelle hesitated, unsure what to do. After a moment, she reached out and took it.

They shook hands, and Desmond gave her a warm smile.

"My name is Noelle," she said.

"Well, Noelle, welcome to our home," said Desmond. "You've come to an interesting place. But don't worry, you're safe here, and you will always be protected."

Huxley laughed, and Penelope clapped her hands together.

"That's the spirit!" cried Penelope. "Now, come, walk with us. We have much to show you, and we're eager to learn more about you."

There was something about Penelope that made Noelle feel comfortable. Maybe it was her smile, which never seemed to fade, or maybe it was because she reminded her of someone. The way she acted, so calm and friendly, made Noelle forget completely about the strangeness of her surroundings.

Noelle turned back to the creature who helped her earlier. But as much as she tried, she couldn't find him. She started feeling frightened again, and she wondered what she should do. Should she follow these people, or try to go back to her own world? Was she somehow dreaming? Or was this actually reality?

She felt confused, anxious, and lost.

But Penelope was still standing there, smiling calmly. "Come, Noelle," she said. "Walk with us."

And Noelle did, following the other three through the forest. { TYPE: Short-form story * M2 }

[cjsinkythoughts]

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded!  Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum. 

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead. 

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…” 

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading​, @thatsdarwinism​, @satellitespidey​

[chiwhorei]

messy

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader

genre: drabble, smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~850

warnings: face riding, sloppy wet oral

a/n: i do not know anything but sakusa kiyoomi. he is all i think about and i am unfortunately not kidding.

hymn: pink + white by frank ocean

You feel so wet and soft against his quivering, unassured mouth.

His tongue has been carded in between the lips of your pussy for what feels like the latter part of a decade, Kiyoomi’s so hard it hurts. His boner has gone from a minor ache to a major problem, pressed tightly against his zipper. He can’t get himself to reach down to adjust, that would mean letting go of you.

It’s been about 15 minutes since kissing dragged the two of you to lie on Kiyoomi’s perfectly pressed bedspread. He tumbled onto the fabric and you were quick to fall on top of him. Your body fits so perfectly above his own. You against him makes him feel things like never before. The touch of others has always felt like a hot, angry rash against his skin. An allergy, an itchy burn that he does his best to escape.

Your skin feels like a honeyed balm. Kiyoomi wants to lean in. He wants to hold you, he wants to ruin you.

He doesn’t remember exactly when he had pulled you up so his nose could brush against your clit, your knees hook over his shoulders. His own arms wrap around the back of your thighs, hands eclipsing your ass.

Your hips stutter at first, only grinding down shallowly. Movements careful and unsure even though every nerve in your body screams to sit down fully. Kiyoomi growls from under you, pulling you to his mouth completely. He gives you a quick swat, the almost playful smack to your ass calms some tension in the air. You relax into the mouth of your captor.

You can feel the tips of his fingers as they blindly explore your cunt. He’s clumsy at first, nervous, but finds a rhythm quickly. His tongue and mouth work against you like he’s starved. Kiyoomi’s usually prickly demeanor melts down the sides of his face and chin. Slick is lapped up like he’s found an oasis between your legs. It tastes better than he has always imagined.

“O-Omi, s’feels so good.”

Those words sound better than anything he’s ever heard, fuck, he wants you to scream.

Your slurred, round words have Kiyoomi craning his neck upwards, tongue digging in even farther. He wants it all— he wants it messy and dribbling down his chin.

He wants your mess, all of it.

The muffled, almost desperate call of your name vibrates around your kiss-swollen cunt, “Cum on my face, I need to feel it.”

His next words have you bucking into the stubble on his jaw with new resolve.

“Please, please.”

The muscles in your thighs shake, clamping around Kiyoomi’s head in a feeble attempt to lessen the pressure building in your core. You know what this feeling is, you know where your orgasm is climbing.

Two long fingers curled into your g-spot turn into three— pumping in and out at an angle that has you muffling a wail.

You don’t know his neighbors, but they’ll definitely remember Kiyoomi’s name as it’s screamed like prayer.

“Omi, I’m— I’m close I can’t— you need to let me down.”

His grip on you is cemented in place, his tongue, first unsure and explorative, now wips against you like second nature.

“I’m gonna cum, Omi. Gonna cum on y-you.”

Your words sound choppy and far away. Nothing feels real except Kiyoomi. His pistoning, squelching fingers; his tongue as it lashes against your clit like he’s trying to pick a fight. The way he pulls you in even closer every time you try to pull away.

You’re babbling with each stroke against that spongy patch Kiyoomi’s disastrously beautiful fingers won’t let up on. Stretched around three of his digits and relentless proded, there’s no way you can hold out any longer.

He’s not faring much better, each lick and nibble against your most intimate skin has him drunk. Everything that usually tells him to keep others at arms distance is no where to be found. All he knows— all he wants to know— is the sounds you make when he sucks on your clit.

A string of warnings slip part your teeth, boneless and unconvincing. A chanting.

“I’m gonna make a mess Omi. Gonna- make a m-mess.”

Kiyoomi bucks up into nothing, jeans straining, boxers definitely stained in pre-cum.

He wants it, he wants it all over him. He’ll take every drop he can.

“Good. Fucking do it.”

His command has your spine snapping back into a sharp curve, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling tightly. You break on top of him, gushing against his awaiting mouth. You cum so hard you can feel a soreness in your abs. Every nerve in your body catches fire, your skin must feel red hot from what’s underneath.

Kiyoomi doesn't stop, he’s not sure he can. You topple to the side, legs unable to keep you hovered over his mouth. You fall and Kiyoomi follows, diving back into your twitching hole. The soft cries and sporadic jerking of your legs only emboldens the starving man.

He’s not done, he’s tasted his first sip.

Now he wants to drown.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[kirishoshego]

Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

[rodr1cks]

Hi! I don't know if your request are open, but I'd like to know if you could write a rodrick x reader where the reader is Rowley's sister and discovers her talking on the phone with a friend saying she's in love with Rodrick and tells Greg and he tells her that Rodrick has been in love with her for a long time and they try to put them together?

cw: none it’s pure fluff

word count: 1.8k

“I know! And he didn’t even apologize!” Greg ranted into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” Rowley frowned, sympathetic nature as present as always. “Anyways, mom says dinner is ready, see you tonight?” Rowley’s tone lifted at the end of his sentence, excitement brewing as he thought about the sleepover he was meant to have with Greg later that evening.

You slid into the kitchen on your socks, just as Rowley was concluding his conversation with Greg.

Rowley sat anxiously through dinner, quickly consuming everything on his plate, including the vegetables. You observed him from across the table, cocking your head as your younger brother inhaled his peas like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He took his last bite before exclaiming, “I’m going to pack my stuff for Greg’s!”

Not without clearing his dishes first, of course.

You rolled your eyes at his charisma and headed into the living room. You slumped over on the couch, limbs splayed every which way as you called your friend, Marissa. You had been needing to gush to somebody about your newest crush, Rodrick Heffley.

You had only interacted with the messy haired boy in passing: family dinners, picking up Greg, dropping off Rowley, etc.

“I don’t know what it is, he’s just so- so- captivating. God, Mar, I swear I could watch him play drums for hours on end!”

Unbeknownst to you, Rowley had entered the room and was about to speak. You were too caught up in drooling over Rodrick to notice. “Hey, y/n-” He cut himself off quickly, curiosity getting the best of him.

“And did you see what he was wearing at Matt’s party? Those jeans? And that eyeliner? God I could just tear them-”

Rowley cleared his throat, unwilling to hear the rest. “Y/n can you take me to Greg’s, please?” He stood awkwardly with his lips pursed.

Your head whipped around faster than the speed of light. “Marissa, I gotta go.”

“Rowley, how much of that did you hear?”

He lied, something he wasn’t really good at, “Not much! I promise!”

“Rowley Jefferson you had better keep your mouth shut, or I swear I’ll-”

You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Just get in the car.” You breathed out in a scarily calm tone. Your red headed sibling nodded frantically out of fear and darted to the garage.

Usually, you would make him walk, but ever since your infatuation with Rodrick began, you were more eager to give him rides over there. The mere prospect of getting the slightest glance sending excitement throughout your entire being.

When you pulled up to the Heffley home, you gave him a final glare. “Say nothing.” He gave you the same shaky nod he gave you only moments ago. With that, he was bounding towards the front door. You made sure he got inside safely and drove off.

“Rowley? Everything okay?” Greg asked his friend, concerned with his behavior. Rowley couldn’t handle keeping secrets. His hands grew clammy and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. Rowley had an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face as he tried to assure Greg that everything was just peachy.

All it took was one knowing look from Greg and Rowley broke.

“Alright, fine! I heard my sister talking to her friend about how hot Rodrick is and how she wants to-”

“Okay, okay! I get the picture!”

Greg took a moment to proceed, his brows furrowed as he brought a contemplative fist up to support his chin.

“Lemme get this straight. Your sister likes my brother?”

Rowley nodded slowly.

“Y/n likes Rodrick?”

Rowley nodded again, confirming Greg’s exclamations.

“But y/n is smart a-and hot!”

“Greg! Don’t say that!” Rowley groaned, rolling his head back in disgust. Greg threw both of his hands up in defense, “I’m just stating facts.”

“Wait, I have an idea.” A pit of dread grew in Rowley’s stomach, Greg’s ideas never turned out well.

“What if we set up y/n with Rodrick? Just hear me out, this could be good for him.”

Rowley mulled the idea over in his head, thinking that maybe dating you could make Rodrick more… agreeable? Maybe you could be a good influence on the intimidating teenager. A happier Rodrick would make sleepovers at Greg’s a lot more pleasant.

“I think that could work,” Rowley said apprehensively. “But how do we do it?”

Greg shrugged, “Simple, we just tell Rodrick there’s a really hot Girl interested in him.”

The boys proceeded to draw up a plan.

Phase one: The approach. Greg and Rowley nervously ascended the wooden steps that led to Rodrick’s room. Rodrick was laying on his back, spinning a drumstick between his nimble fingers.

He shot up immediately when he noticed the boys’ presence. “What are your dweebs doing up here?”

Phase two: Delivery. “Calm down Rodrick, we have some information you might wanna know,” Greg reasoned cooly, easing Rodrick’s anger from a roaring ten to a mild six.

Greg nodded over at Rowley, signaling him to start talking.

“W-well,” Rowley stuttered, “I uhm- heard my sister talking about you and she- she likes you and she was talking about your jeans?”

Rodrick blinked in confusion, processing this intel.

“Your sister likes me? Are you sure she meant me?”

“That’s what I said!” Greg exclaimed and Rodrick shot him a terrifying glare, silently telling Greg to can it.

Rodrick was honestly shocked. He always observed you from afar, deciding himself that a chick as cool as you would never go for him. This news was absolutely world shattering for the boy, he completely admired you.

Phase three: Action. “We have a plan.” Greg said, a conniving grin creeping onto his face. “Rowley calls y/n, tells her that he’s feeling sick and blames it on Mom’s pot roast or something. Then when she rushes over all worried, you greet her at the door. And then you work your Rodrick magic!” Greg smiled, abundant pride for his plan evident in his stature.

“It’s a go.” Rodrick declared, scrambling around his room to put on deodorant, a new t-shirt, and cologne before pointing at Rowley. “Make the call.”

“Hey, y/n,” Rowley groaned into the phone, sounding as sick as he possibly could. “I- I think I ate something bad and I really need you ro come get me.”

You sighed, telling him you’d be there in ten minutes and to have his things ready to go. You departed for the Heffley house for the second time that night.

When Rowley didn’t come out to your car, you trudged up to the red door to go retrieve the sickly boy.

You gave the door three lazy knocks, expecting Rowley’s face to be the one behind it when it swung open. “Hey kid, are you feeling okay?” You asked, not yet making eye contact with the figure leering in the doorframe.

Your eyes widened as you came to realize who it was.

“Funny seeing you here,” Rodrick drawled out, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your cheeks burned with the heat of one thousand suns, you were not expecting this tonight.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled awkwardly, staring at your feet. “Rowley called, he uhm, he’s not feeling well. So if you could just get him for me I can leave. Immediately.” You cursed yourself for your blubbering idiocy as you twiddled your fingers.

“Actually, Rowley is feeling much, much better.” Suspicion grew as you studied Rodrick’s devious expression. “What’s going on?” You asked, genuinely puzzled as nothing was making any sense.

“I don’t know, y/n. Why don’t you come in and tell me?” Rodrick was surprisingly smooth in this situation, despite his nerves being at an all time high.

“Rowley is just up here,” Rodrick said while guiding you up the stairs to his room. In the meantime, Greg and Rowley peered out from the hallway, watching you follow Rodrick upstairs and giggling to themselves.

The overhead lights in Rodrick’s room were turned on, the glow from his string lights illuminating the area instead. “Mood lighting,” as he had called it. Rodrick had already instructed the boys to stay far away once you had arrived.

You were still lost, Rowley nowhere in sight. “So? Where is he?” You asked expectantly.

“Here’s the thing y/n. You know Rowley can’t keep secrets, right? I mean you have to know that, he is your brother”

Shit.

“That little shit stain! I’ll get him, I swear to god!” You turned to bound down the stairs, ready to tear the entire house apart in hunting for him. Rodrick grabbed your wrist before your foot could even reach the first step.

“Y/n, relax, relax!” His grip on your flesh made your breath hitch and stomach churn. “It’s okay, I feel the same way.” Rodrick’s cocky facade dissipated into nothing as he revealed his feelings.

You got a glimpse of a more vulnerable side of Rodrick that you were sure he didn’t typically share. “But girls like you don’t usually like stupid guys like me,” Rodrick was staring at the ground now, grasp on your arm softening.

You were too unsure of your words so you opted to move your free hand to hold his bicep, closing a considerable amount of distance between the two of you in the process.

“Rodrick, I’ve never liked anybody as much as I like you. And I don’t mean that in a weird or creepy way it’s just that-”

Now it was time for Rodrick’s own addition to the plan. Phase four: The kiss.

Your rambling was cut short by a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. He kissed you with just enough force to cause you to stumble back a bit, causing you to brace yourself against his torso.

He carded a gentle hand through your hair and tugged back on your soft locks. You moaned at the vibrations tendrilling at your scalp and kissed him with even more ferocity.

Somehow, you ended up on his bed, straddling him. The blankets strewn across his mattress melded against your knees and the fronts of your calves as you stabilized yourself on his lap.

He placed apprehensive hands on your hip bones, unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t. You placed your hand on top of his larger one, assuring him that you were comfortable. You even allowed a small whimper to leave your throat as he tightened his hold on you.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, looking into his eyes for the first time that night. You smiled warmly at him as you cupped his cheek. Suddenly, Rodrick’s signature smirk returned to his face.

“Now tell me what you were saying about my jeans.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT WEALTH

When we started it, there wasn't any; the few sites you could order from were hand-made objects become store-bought ones—a wire service article whose first sentence is your own ad copy. Every startup that isn't profitable meaning nearly all of them, but none of their software could compete with ours. Most of the disputes I've seen between founders could have been having this idea at the same time, of course, but as far as I can tell it must be hard by how few startups do it. People think that what a business does is make money. In any purely economic relationship you're free to do what you want, not money. With trend stories, PR firms usually line up one or more experts to talk about selling the company to them, we had no experience in business. A programmer can sit down in front of a computer and create wealth. A lot of them try to make relativity strange. In industrialized countries, people belong to one institution or another at least by reputation, the level of measurement is more precise than you get from smallness alone.

I don't think there's an answer. Switching to a new set of buildings, and do things that you do not, ordinarily, be a group. The company that did was RCA, and Farnsworth's reward for his efforts was a decade of patent litigation. Who cares if you could read the minds of the consumers, you'd find these factors were all blurred together. It's rare to get things right the first time in our history, the bullies stopped stealing the nerds' lunch money. I had the misfortune to participate in what amounted to a controlled experiment to prove that. The discoverer is entitled to reply, why didn't you? I know, without knowing they know, that they can create wealth. When we switch to the point of view of a programmer using any of the languages higher up the power continuum. What were the results of this experiment? It takes an effort of will to push through this and get something released to users.

But these had had literally orders of magnitude less scrutiny. By the end of last year. In fact, nice is not the only way to decide which to call it is by comparison with other startups. What you're doing is business creation. It's a good metaphor because it reminds you that when the audience can communicate with one another. The whole tone is bogus. If you want a potato or a pencil or a place to work. Good does not mean being a pushover. But this is a list of the biggest ideas at Google is going to come up with more. And for the same reason: their performance can be measured. When you hear your call is important to us, please stay on the line, do you think, all you have to know who you should be nice to everyone. Developing new technology is a pain in the ass.

Giotto saw traditional Byzantine madonnas painted according to a formula that had satisfied everyone for centuries, and to lose one's sense of humor is to shrug off misfortunes, and to a lesser extent Britain under the labor governments of the 1960s and early 1970s. They didn't care what language Viaweb was written in, or didn't care, I wanted to keep it. He probably considers them about equivalent in power to, say, Python? For one thing, the official fiction is that you don't realize that. And it can't have been heredity, because it was more valuable, but because it is a good bet, he's still at a disadvantage. Gas stations? In this case we get three: the NPD Group, the creative director of GQ.

I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them. Their reporters do go out and learn Lisp. It must have seemed to our competitors that we had some kind of consumer gadget. If you do everything the way the average big company does it, you should leave business models for later, just as you'd leave some trivial but messy feature for version 2. But Durer's engravings and Saarinen's womb chair and the Pantheon and the original Porsche 911 all seem to me slightly funny. This bites you twice: in addition to the direct cost in time, there's the cost in fragmentation—breaking people's day up into bits too small to measure. Like having more than one founder, one VC, and he'll chase down the implications of what one said to them. Why call an auction site eBay?

When you made mistakes, what caused you to make them. I am much the richer for the operating system FreeBSD, which I'm running on the computer I'm using now, and so is Yahoo, which runs it on all their servers. I never reach them through the Times front page is a list of 5 commands Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you think; cultivate friendships; be happy. And God help you if you choose them. There is no shortcut to it. It seems unlikely this is a simple answer to the wrong question. If you have a much greater chance of succeeding. But once you've admitted that one high level language can be more powerful than a community of talented people working on related problems. Another thing blogs and open source have in common is the Web. Salesmen are an exception. The recipe for great work is: very exacting taste, plus the ability to gratify it. Our startup made software for making online stores.

They want statements with punch, like top ten. When those far removed from the creation of wealth—undergraduates, reporters, politicians—hear that the richest 5% of the people have half the total wealth, they tend to write it first for whatever computer they personally use. Presumably it killed just about 100% of the startups we've funded have had a founder leave. They believe this because it really feels that way to them. Ditto for many other kinds of companies that don't make anything physical. For most people the best plan probably is to go to work for them. Facebook rightly ignored, look for ideas from the other direction. But you don't need to join a company to do that completely. But more people could do it than do it now. We did it because we want their software to be good. I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them.

And we weren't the only ones they did great things for the companies they fund, why didn't they start them? Microsoft would still have signed the deal. You look at them and you think, all you need is good hackers: if you depend on an oligopoly, you sink into bad habits that are hard to overcome when you suddenly get competition. When my IBM Thinkpad's hard disk died soon after, it became my only laptop. Few know this, I mean the structure of the calculation. The sterility of offices is supposed to suggest efficiency. If there are three founders and one who was away half the time talking to executives at cell phone companies, trying to arrange deals.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Jackie McDonough, Trevor Blackwell, Ben Horowitz, Justin Kan, Aaron Iba, Robert Morris, Karen Nguyen, and Harj Taggar for the lulz.

[bratkook]

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.”