#ft long haired dick propaganda

[lilypads17]

you know his kids drag him to a restaurant so they can sing 2 him every year

[sugaslick]

rules | m

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre/warnings: prep school!AU, smut, degradation, mirror sex, knife warning, mentions of smoking, basically tae’s kind of a dick so bare with me 

words: 2,982

summary: You return to your dorm to find Taehyung, your brother school’s wealthiest bastard. Unfortunately for him, you don’t like following the doctrine he preaches. 

a/n: Hey everyone! I just graduated from class of 2020: quarantine edition so I’m starting to write again bc I have so much time...If you have any prompts for drabbles or scenarios send them my way bc I need ideas and I love doing personal calls ;) hope you enjoy I’ve been writing this in between ft calls with my bf lmao sorry babe if he only knew...also if u like this pls lmk so I can ruin y’alls rosy filter fr lmao

Tick, tick, tick.

The sound of the analog clock leads a symphony of your classmates’ pencils scribbling across their unfinished test papers, your hands folded neatly across your pristine work. You always finish tests early because you’re the straight A student, the teacher’s pet, the good girl - you strive for perfection and nothing less. You look to your left, peering at your classmate who’s perspiring so heavily that his shirt is beginning to stain. Poor soul, you ponder, poking your tongue between your lips and tasting success and strawberry lip balm.

You know what those stockings do to me, babygirl.

The taste makes you think of him. You know he likes it. He moans into your mouth when you wear it, licking at your bottom lip like it’s the tip of an ice cream cone.

You smell divine, my pet. I wish I could bottle you up and spray your scent on my pillow. It drives me insane.

You bring your wrist to your nose, breathing in deeply. Hints of citrus, geranium and blood orange coating your nostrils. You hold back a smile, folding your hands on your desk once more. You can almost feel his rough hands grazing the back of your thighs, fingers moving up your pleated skirt until they’re firmly gripping your ass. He’s rough, he’s vain, and he’s a bastard, but you like that. You need that. You need him. You can feel the wet seeping into your lacy white panties, crossing your legs uncomfortably to prevent it from moving further down your thighs.

Come on kitten, let me taste you. I’m hungry. I’m famished. I haven’t eaten for days. Come here.

Taehyung. Saying his name aloud is a sin against God. He’s the devil that meets naughty schoolgirls and ruins them at crossroads. You know the Ten Commandments by heart, and he has broken every single one of them. If the sisters knew what you two have done in closets, in the library, in your shared dorm room, they would expel you without thought. But you have, and you will continue doing so. He burns through your veins and evaporates your blood. His Commandments are Harder, Faster, and More. He exorcises you, he brings out the worst in you, he lives inside you.

Don’t keep me waiting, little girl. You know I don’t possess virtue or patience.

He is the deadly sin. Lust for your lips, your neck, your breasts, and your heat. He is a Glutton for your body; grabbing, kneading, pulling, scratching, and begging like a predator toying with its meal. He is Envious when others look at you, his glare daggers as his hand reaches down to your ass to claim what’s rightfully his. But it’s not, not really. He isn’t your boyfriend, and you aren’t his girlfriend. But you belong to him, without hesitation.

Do you see the way he’s looking at you? I’ll kill him. I will. I’ll make sure he never walks these halls again.

He scares you. He plays on your fears, your weaknesses, and turns them into desire. Sex is an amalgamation of your dreams and your nightmares, and he is the slumber that delivers both.

Riiiiiiing.

You stand almost instantly, swiping your test off of your desk and gracefully placing it on Mr. Jamison’s. You can’t think. You can barely breath. You just need to make it to your dorm and everything will be okay. You need release. You need Taehyung to rip off your panties and fuck you in your uniform.

Do I sense some eagerness, Y/N? Do you really want me that badly? Oh, this will be fun.

Fuck off. Even when he’s not around he teases you, playing mind games while simultaneously inducing a tingling sensation between your legs. You turn corners, bumping into classmates and teachers without sparing a glance behind you. You can feel a dampness at the nape of your neck, his favourite place to kiss you. He’s both the king and the joker, dominating you but taking his sweet time to do so. You trip up the stairs, breathing heavily as you enter the girl’s dormitory wing. The bulletin for the Spring Formal plasters the walls, pink and yellow leaflets papering the white brick with their propaganda. You pass cliques of girls socializing in the halls, twirling their hair, checking their phones, reapplying sticky clear gloss to their puckered lips.

Open your mouth. That’s it. Just like that. You know what to do.

You crash through the door of room 308, turning on your heel to slam the door shut behind you.

You exhale. Relief.

“Hello, love.” His voice. Just like that, you disintegrate. You feel your pulse quicken, you feel your legs quiver, you feel the wet drip lower, and lower, and lower. He’s here. “I missed you.”

Taehyung. Forest Ridge Private School’s most eligible bachelor. Captain of the lacrosse team, the moot trial club, and volunteers at the local orphanage on weekends. But you know better. He’s a liar, a cheat, and a bastard. His father owns several yachts, his mother a platinum member at a 5-star country club. He’s a brat, getting everything he wants without ever lifting a finger. What everyone fails to notice are the little things. He drives his slate grey Challenger a bit too fast. He says he’s quitting smoking, but shows up smelling like cigarettes every time you see him. He carries a switchblade that he swears is only for show, but flicks it open with an innate gesture that only develops from constant use. His left incisor is sharp, sharper than normal, as if he used his knife to grind it into a point. The only thing preppy about him is the uniform beret he always wears, tipped ever so slightly to rest askew atop his unruly black hair - like he is right now standing behind you. You turn, slowly, cautiously, as if preventing a gruesome attack from a lion just waiting to pounce.

“You’ve made me wait an awful long time for you. You know I don’t like tardiness.”

“Oh shut up, Tae. I was taking a test. It’s not like I could just walk out.” You finally meet his gaze. He’s angry, one hand holding his switchblade while the other gently caresses its blunt edge. You know he won’t use it, he just likes to scare you. To make you sweat. It’s his version of foreplay. Fear is like precum to him. “Besides, I like making you wait. It’s thrilling.” You utter, allowing the ghost of a smile to bloom on your lips. He takes a step towards you, then two more, until he’s close enough to smell your perfume. Close enough to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. Close enough to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But he doesn’t, does he?

“Thrilling?” He sneers, running his tongue over the sharper of the two incisors as his free hand moves slowly up your body. His movements are always precise and deliberate, as if he thinks before he acts. He’s calculated. He’s sure of himself. And he’s sure he can make a mess out of you. “I believe the word you’re looking for is dangerous. You shouldn’t fuck with me, kitten. I don’t play nice. I thought you knew that?”

“And what if I did,” you retort, bracing for impact, “what then?” Your waist, your breast, your collarbone; all of them greeted momentarily by his touch until he arrives at his destination. His fingers wrap around your throat, his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure to your jugular. God, you want him. You want him so bad as his hand shifts to tip your chin up, his thumb slipping into your mouth urging you to bite down. You look up at him, a quick breath escaping his nose as if he were laughing at you.

“Well, I have rules. Rules that were made to be followed. Rule #1, no tardiness, which you have already broken. Strike.” You feel the blunt edge of his blade caress your inner thigh. “Rule #2, no panties. Let’s see, shall we?” He lifts your skirt with the blade before you can slap his hand away, his head tipping back before rolling forward in exasperation. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. They’re very cute, I’ll give you that, but this is unacceptable.” He grabs the waistline of the lacy white fabric, ignoring your protests as he slices down the middle of your panties. You swear he sharpens it daily, because it cuts through your underwear as if they were a piece of flimsy parchment. They fall to the floor, your inhibitions falling with them. “Now that’s better, don’t you think?” He taunts, letting your skirt fall back in place.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumble, audibly hearing your voice waiver. He is carnivorous. He caught your scent. He knows you’re afraid. He pounces. He reaches behind your head to place his knife on your dresser, drawing his hand back slowly before resting it on your waist. Leaning forward, he draws a line of saliva up your jawbone, stopping to nip at your earlobe.

“You love it, slut. Now, what’s Rule #3? You should know it by now. I’ve only repeated it a hundred times.” He chimes, moving his hand up your torso to cup your left breast, massaging it gently with interjected pinches of your nipple. He loves to tease. Making you squirm is his guilty pleasure. You feel your throat tighten, the urge to release a moan unbearable. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, resulting in the friction you need to stay sane. He notices your movements, moving away from your ear to reveal his snide grin from ear to ear. Before you can even comprehend his movements, Taehyung sticks his middle finger into your heat, curling it as if he were beckoning someone forward. “This is what you wanted, yes? My fingers in your cunt?” You nod. You hate yourself for it. You were eager for this, for him. He pulls his finger out abruptly, lifting it to his mouth to taste you. His eyes close, savouring your wetness in his dirty mouth. When his eyes open he’s different. He’s ravenous. His jaw clenches, his tongue poking out between his lips to devour what’s left of you. “Do not make me say it again, Y/N. What’s Rule #3?”

“Beg for it.” You mutter softly, refusing to meet his eyes. You weren’t shy, not even in the slightest, but you know him. You know this boy stood in front of you. He loves control, and you’re more than willing to give it to him.

“Sorry? I missed that.” He lilts, putting his index finger to his ear to indicate his excessive behaviour.

You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, moving towards him as you keep your promise to him about not breaking any more rules. “Taehyung, I want you to fuck me so hard the entire hall can hear us. I want them to know that Kim Taehyung is in here fucking my brains out. The athlete, the bad boy, the prep, and the sadist. Oh boy, oh boy. Now get over here, you prick.”

“Y/N, this is why you’re my favourite. You beg with such vigor, such enthusiasm. This is why you get special treatment.”

“Oh grow u-.” You can’t even finish speaking before his hands and mouth attack you from all angles. He kisses you, but you wouldn’t even classify what his mouth was doing as a kiss. His tongue darted in and out of your mouth like a snake, his right hand constricting your wrists above your head as if you were his prisoner. His other hand does not waste any time finding the space between your legs, two fingers pumping into you with composed movements. You could feel yourself unraveling at his touch. Your legs quiver, your lips are raw, your eyes shut so tight in fear of what might be standing before you. Then nothing. His lips and hands are gone from your body. Your eyes remain closed but you can feel his presence, his energy. It cuts through the room like a dagger, the ghost of his switchblade on your thigh. Your eyes flicker open, and he is no longer standing in front of you. Confusion floods your expression as you turn your head in both directions, wondering if what you felt was just another realistic dream. His knife. You turn around, and there it is still resting on your dresser.

“Did you forget Rule #4 already?” You freeze. You cannot move. It’s over. He’s got you. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”

His hand grips a handful of your hair and pushes you towards the bed, your thighs hitting its edge causing you to double over. He spreads your thighs with his knee, still clad in his dry cleaned slacks. You hear the sound of his belt coming undone, his pants falling to the floor in one swift movement. A high-pitched moan escapes your depths as Taehyung teases your entrance with his cock, moving up and down your soaking wet folds with absolutely no haste. He enjoys this. Thrives off of it.

“I won’t fuck you without your full consent. I’m a gentleman, you know. I have a reputation to uphold.” You can’t take this anymore. You can’t take his attitude. You flip over so you’re on your back, staring up at his shocked expression. You position his cock at your entrance, crossing your heels behind your back before pulling him into you. “J-jesus.” He didn’t even have the mental capacity to retort, but his body didn’t waiver in the slightest. Sex is the only language he can speak fluently. He picks you up by your ass and moves you further up the bed, rolling his body into you like an angry wave. “I appreciate your eagerness, kitten. But don’t you ever do that again, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, dad.” This is how you two work. He chirps, you chirp back. He comments, you respond.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have said that.” He picks up speed, his cock drilling into you, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room with vulgarity. “Your pussy is mine, you hear me? I own you. You worship me. I am your god.”

And you believe him. Your eyes roll back in your head. You feel the build up. Your toes curl and your fingers clutch the sheets. You are so close to release you can feel it in your gut...and then nothing. He is infuriating. Your body is covered in flames and then extinguished in the blink of an eye.

“Tae,” you groan, his amusement quite clear on his tender red lips, “not fair.”

“You know what isn’t fair? The way you look right now. I wish you could see yourself. Your pussy is so fucking wet you’re practically pouring out onto the bed. Your hair is a mess, my teeth marks are beginning to take colour, and your eyes…” He trails off, almost as if in a trance. His disappearance led to the abandonment of his shirt and beret, both lying on the floor at the end of the bed. Black tousled hair covered his brows, the strands unruly from the tight grip of your fingers. He is like a dark angel, but you know this boy is no angel. “I have an idea.”

He picks you up, throwing you over his broad shoulder this time, and drops you in front of your full-body mirror.

“Strip.” You had no reason to disobey, dropping your uniform skirt and removing your blouse and bra. His eyes wandered, up and down your figure they went. He stares, ingesting you with his hungry eyes. They are almost black. “Now, you can see yourself. See how good you look after I fuck you.” His long fingers brush through your knotty waves as he speaks, contemplating his next move. “Do you want to cum?” You are taken aback by his bluntness, but you nod nonetheless. “How bad do you want me?” Your clit throbs with every word he whispers into your ear.

“God, you have no idea.”

“You had me at God.” And with that, he was on his knees in front of you, your body still facing the mirror. You watch your face as it simultaneously contorts with the presence of his tongue licking up your folds. He inserts one, two, three fingers into your prepped heat. The pressure of his tongue and fingers is almost unbearable, the overstimulation making it difficult for your body to stay upright. He does not let you fall. Every time your legs buckle, his hands grip your ass as he forces himself further into your dripping pussy. As he sucks at your pulsating clit, his fingers pump in and out of you with relentless urgency, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of his gaze is jarring, never looking away while he tastes you. You are so close to climax, the euphoria making you completely unaware of when Taehyung began pumping his cock with his other hand. He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge. He sees this. Processes it. He rises before you cum to place his hand over your mouth as you scream in ecstasy. He is backing you up towards the bed, laying you down before he ejaculates all over your stomach and breasts. You ride your highs together. You feel him lay beside you, his head tipping to the side to kiss your bare shoulder.

“Alright, time to get you cleaned up.” He launches himself from the bed, heading towards your private bathroom. “We’re ordering takeout, right?”

“I’m already dialing!” You respond, reaching into the pocket of his crumpled pants to retrieve his chocolate brown Hermes wallet.

Sucker.