#like the man gets some degree of regular sleep anyway

[thevelominati]

[hell-drabbles]

Been into "what if"s and alternative universes stuff, safe to say i'm very interested in what it would look like if the Companion is the Descendant of Solomon instead of Ra-on. I wonder if Ra-on will get his shit together if that happened and tried to get his Companion out of the filthy hands of demons while trying to survive and fix the mess of the Hell.

The role reversal would be interesting to see if both Companion and Ra-on still have their traits together as themselves and not the contrary. It's... Not a pleasant thing to think of Companion as... Ra-on.

Let's see how many Demons would get hit by Companion's pipe and ask for more if the Companion is the Star of the Show, lololol

Ain't that a question. Well I won't lie, I have thought about it from time to time, just never bothered to explore it any deeper since I was distracted by other things.

Anyways, I'm gonna ramble so strap in.

For one thing, Ra-on would be heavily more well adjusted since his family wasn't killed. He'd be a very gentle man, and probably grew up with overprotective parents so he has that sheltered, air-headedness about him that comes with living in a little bubble.

Oh and he's still explosively horny. Now that he isn't under the constant watch of his parents, he's going all out in finding his preferences online. And is certainly not a virgin by this point. I'd actually imagine that he's aiming to be a part-time sex worker, but is too busy with college at the moment to look deeper into it.

And as for the Companion... I'd say they have a lot less disinterest in the world around them. Dismissive, simply putting all of their focus on finding the people that killed their family. They've pretty much narrowed their world to just Ra-on and Minhyeok and doesn't have anyone else beyond that. They're very protective of that small circle, to an unhealthy degree honestly. So, in contrast to the current strained dynamic of Companion and Ra-on, it feels like the this version of the Companion and Ra-on are about to consume each other.

"You're so delicate. You'll be ripped apart."

Companion has not had a healthy sleep in years, and they struggle immensely to find joy in anything that isn't related to Ra-on and Minhyeok. When they're not burning with intense rage, they're often found very, very apathetic. As such, they give the devils little to no respect, no matter how much these devils may adore them.

But, the devils being devils, they will not stop trying. They will get past the Companion's emotional walls. This, of course, has horrible consequences. Because you can't attempt to fix a person that doesn't want to fix themselves.

So yeah, the only way anyone can get the Companion interested in saving Hell at all is to either say that the angels have something to do with their family getting slaughtered, or have Ra-on plead with them to save the devils.

So yeah, that would probably the story of the Companion learning to let go of their need for vengeance and just, start to appreciate the weird world around them.

Ra-on is still as horny as always, but because he's not being bogged down by the other issues in the regular AU, he isn't really jealous or unhealthily possessive. He is, instead, kinda scared for the Companion's mental well being when it becomes clear to him just how much they project Solomon onto the Companion. He distracts the devils when he sees how their talking and flirting is bothering the Companion. Makes a mess of himself so that the Companion can hide away.

He just, doesn't want to see the Companion turn to violence again. They had a really bad streak at some point that almost got them barred from getting into any school or university. Ra-on hates seeing them caught in the cycle of violence and will do anything to pull them out. But Hell is... not the best place for that kind of hope.

Minhyeok loves being a Caretaker but Ra-on takes it to a whole other level. Ra-on almost wants to become a machine that's made to take care of the Companion's every need, if that will help them be happier for a little longer. Willing to strip himself of his agency if it means they can smile again.

And all the Companion sees is a delicate dove that need to be protected at all costs.

Of all the things the Companion and Ra-on are afraid of, it's the realization that the other doesn't need them like they thought they would. That, what's best for both of them is to go their separate ways.

Is it romantic? Is it platonic? I don't know, but it's certainly unhealthy and they will consume one another if left unchecked.

And as for the Companion's relationship with Solomon, they want to cut him out. They want him to shut up, they want him to go to anyone else and leave them be. They don't want any of his fucking baggage or any of the shit he did.

Anyways, I would imagine that Solomon is the one to reveal that the angels slaughtered their family, with evidence to show for it. Because if this is the only way to get the Companion to save Hell, then so be it. Aim the rage-filled beast towards your enemy and let go. Solomon obviously doesn't want to manipulate the Companion like this, but he cares for the devils in Hell too much. Besides, this is his last chance. He has no other choice.

[eggsaladsandwhic]

Vash Headcannons (SFW and NSFW)

Follow my previous posts about the Poly Knives x OC x Vash CollegeAU fic I'm doing so here's some ideas I gotta dump.

SFW/General

Ecology Major vibes, is also getting an Ethics minor

Hates chemistry with a burning passion

Makes a lot of friends, but only hangs out with a few so he doesn't overwhelm himself

Nurodivergent Vash!

(He/They)! Or (They/them) either works

Doing a stem degree while having ADHD and anxiety sucks so much but Vash thrives in it somehow

College has really been flaring up his plant traits lately, has to call Rem or talk to Nai on the weekly for help (Though Nai just keeps telling him to stop repressing it)

Has to wear long sleeves or hoodie a lot to cover up the feathering leaves that pop out.

Vash doesn't realize it but it's anxiety that's causing it, but Nai started lending him some compression shirts and so it's gotten better

BUFF DADBOD VASH (this idea possess me)

He's gotten better with dealing with stress and no longer resorts to starving himself

GOES TO THERAPY(one of these twins gotta do it)

Between Nai's cooking, drinking on the weekends, and the amount of donuts this dude can eat he's living his best life

Works out when he gets the time and bowls competitively

Wants a significant other (Mates for life) but it's so hard, especially when starts thinking about the fact he's not human

Has a fear of having someone he really loves and then them finding out he's a plant and reacting negatively. Vash thinks Nai and him would likely have to move back to the facility with Rem. He doesn't want to uproot the lifestyle him and his brother have

Gets a little depressed about it, but is really good with having a support group on standby

Gets hit on at bars a lot but it always flys over his head or they're too pushy about it.

Wolfwood sets him up with dates once in a blue moon but it goes horrible or the girls just don't like him for more than his looks

Physical touch is this man's love language and he just wants someone he can lean on

Add someone who likes doing domestic activities?? Y'all are going to the courthouse next week

Wants to just curl up next to someone even platonically at this point

Has an agreement with Nai sometimes that they sleep in the same bed like when they were kids (Nai always grumbles about it but sleeps better that night anyway)

Nsfw Below 👇

OH SHIT OH FUCK

(NSFW)

So I did some research today and did y'all know that wild purple geraniums have a tendency to be Hermaphrodites

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Vash is a dual package (living the dream ong)

Plantussy and Plantdick combo meal

So I imagine that his dick would sit above his vulva and vagina? Testes would likely be internal (genuinely trying to form an anatomy basis I'm actually looking at a diagram rn)

As for his female organs I'd say he consented to a hysterectomy because it was causing growth issues (post op sucked but he figured it out)

Took testosterone for awhile until everything was functional

Became a lot more sexually comfortable with himself after this

6.5in prehensile tentacle dick, bumpy rounded ridges on the sides and little more on the girthy end

Has more of those downy soft petals that unfold during sex, and dick likely has a sheath because it's more fleshy (kinda like the inside of your mouth)

Hyperspremia and leaves a mess everytime he jerks off, squirts a lot too (probably got a dedicated bath towel at this point)

He has fucked himself with his own dick and usually prefers to

Owns quite a few sex toys and likes to experiment around a little bit

Goes from a Fleshlight, a regular dildo, has a couple fantasy ones, and anal and prostate toys

High sex drive, but can cum pretty quick (short recovery period, usually goes 3 rounds but can do more)

Rut is 10x worse too you'd be lucky to make it to the fridge

Makes sperm plugs during rut

SWITCH VASH(still a virgin though)

Desperate sex kinda guy, gets pussy drunk or cock dumb so easily, folds like a chair no matter what

Make him unfurl his wings out it means he trusts you so much

Please go down on him and absolutely devour him

Very sweet though and would definitely check in a lot (check in with him too it makes him feel fuzzy)

Has a sex awareness to not hurting you accidentally, during rut he's very nervous about it

Aftercare King (loves to shower or take a bath after)

More of a hickey giver than a biter

Usual kinks: Breeding, Pegging, Overstimulation, Cum play, cockwarming, Oral, Praise, Hair-pulling

Unusual: Blindfolding, Shibari(both ways around), Begging, wants to be degraded a little bit

Jesus my brain went wild there, I was doing research for some of this shit. Was supposed to be doing Geochemistry homework but this happened ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. Anyways gn y'all I got a 9am.

[villain-in-love]

And here I present to you two clowns who have formed an unfortunate alliance, explained in 5 minutes (or not):

So here we have the smartest and the strongest guys in the Pandora organization. If only they would act accordingly...

Don't forget that this couple consists of a criminal investigator and a former serial killer, so if you decide to mess with them, I can guarantee that no one will ever find your body.

Anyways, very lengthy explanation of the points made is under the cut:

♤ Age is a complicated matter in this manga, as one of the possible side-effect of having a contract with a chain is that the body can stop aging. Which is why Break doesn't look even a day older than he was when he concluded his first (illegal) contract. Also at first I intended to do the same with Mortifera and freeze her at the age of 29, but then I thought that it just sounds too convenient, so screw it, it’s fine as it is. Now Break can get on Mortifera's nerves by joking about her being a creepy older woman who's into men "much younger" than her.

♤ Let me tell you, this level of trust is already a lot for Break. This man has serious trust issues – you can be friends for years and still know almost nothing about him, and he always preferred to stubbornly deal with everything alone. Sometimes Mortifera still has to resort to a third-degree interrogation and complicated psychological manipulations to get him to tell her anything.

♤ The difference in the horny level… Mortifera is suffering here. Break is also suffering – from sexual harassment, or at least that’s what he likes to call it. Obviously, Katharine won’t force him into anything, but she still possesses a remarkable ability to make anything sexual, and it gets annoying.

♤ Both have relatively low levels of jealousy simply because, well, they really don’t give each other that many reasons to get jealous. Mostly because no one else will be insane enough to even try to romantically pursue these people. However, there is one thing Katharine still can't get over, which raises her level of jealousy...

♤ ...I also suspect that the reason Xerxes doesn't get jealous might have something to do with his absolutely fucked self-perception but let's talk about it the other day. This is too much to unpack right now.

♤ Speaking of the relationship attitude, they are so reserved about it that most people don’t even know that they are dating. Everyone thinks that they are best friends that are just a bit too comfortable with each other.

♤ First kiss wasn’t on the lips, by the way, and happened before they actually got together. It was one of those weird sexually charged moments between them that none of them knew how to interpret but it just happened by itself…

♤ Xerxes wakes up first, but he also falls asleep last. It was canonically stated that his hours of sleep are short and restless, so he can go to sleep at 3am and wake up at 7am. Katharine tries her best to do something about it, but they don't really live together, so...

♤ None of them really cooks, nor does housework. In the rich households that are Rainsworth and Ledford, there are other servants that take care of it, and both Break and Mortifera are a separate class of servants that are above the regular house staff, which is why they can enjoy some privileges. Same goes for driving carriages. And it all also applies to Pandora's headquarters.

♤ Though they do clean their own rooms because both Xerxes and Katharine value their privacy too much to let other people inside. That is to say, “clean” is a strong word, because their rooms are always a mess anyways...

♤ Also, technically they can cook, to some extent, because there were times when they lived alone. But they'd rather avoid cooking if they can.

♤ Break is canonically protective, and violently so. Mortifera is no better, and she's even more aggressive. Which means that if you hurt one of them, if they don't kill you themselves in retaliation, the other one certainly will.

♤ Xerxes likes spewing cryptic bullshit and speaking in riddles. Mortifera, despite being a great detective, cannot catch a hint to save her life. Do you see why it took them so long to get together?

♤ I really don't think they would be able to exchange clothing since they have rather different fashion styles and are 100% committed to their personal aesthetics. Also there's obvious difference in clothing sizes and body types... Though there was one occasion when Mortifera suddenly barged into Break's room, took one of his fancy hats, and ran off, because she urgently needed it for some outfit. Break still cannot get her to give it back.

♤ When it comes to "mature – playful" scale, they are perfectly capable of acting like serious adults. But it’s not fun, so they would rather not. (When the situation actually gets serious, though, more often than not these two turn out to be the most sensible and competent people in the room)

♤ For the “ray of sunshine – doneTM” scale, I put them in the middle because while both Break and Mortifera maintain this cheerful and happy-go-lucky, if not slightly menacing façade, underneath all the pretences? They are tired and lowkey depressed.

♤ Same goes for the “tense – easy-going” scale. They might look like the type of people who are not bothered by anything, but Break is always on his guard, and Mortifera is stressed 24/7...

[inkofamethyst]

October 2, 2023

After two and a half days of illness, I'm pretty much back to regular functioning (with occasional sneezes but at least the sinus pressure has majorly receded). This does mean that I'm about two days behind where I wanted to be, but I'm going to have to try as best as I can to catch up so Thursday doesn't ~suck~. I don't really want my sleep to suffer though [edit 2, next morning: failed, reverse bedtime procrastination strikes again], that's a habit I'd like to leave back in undergrad if possible. Man, I can't wait until I'm done with (undergrad-level) classes (though then I'll have to structure my own days which is another kind of challenge).

Anyway back to the house conversation, I'm obviously facing a major hurdle preventing ownership: the down payment. I know I listed out all of those "little" savings goals a bit ago, but preparing for a down payment is a huge goal, like tens upon tens of thousands of dollars in some places, and I don't want that to bite into my emergency fund which I am also trying to build (though the emergency fund will likely be much smaller than the down payment goal). The toughest part is that saving in grad school is terribly difficult. The first year and a half are so are going to be weird because I don't really know what my taxes will look like, but budgeting should become easier as I settle in.

And then and then not only do you have to do a down payment, but also hoa fees, monthly mortgage, insurance, figuring out how to get things fixed when (not if) they break, not to mention all the fees you have to worry about before moving in and all the people you have to pay... so many things to consider, so much cash to raise. And like yes I know that serious saving requires serious sacrifice, but bread and roses man. I wanna get a bass guitar in two years, I'm solidifying a wardrobe, I wanna keep sewing. I don't wanna be so single-track-minded that I'm totally miserable for years (like they tell phd students to not let Being In School stop them from living their lives).

I need to talk to a financial advisor, agh. So many things online are saying that renting could be the better move,,,,, but something deep in my bones tells me that it's propaganda of some sort.

God the way I could've been absolutely insufferable as a (metaphorical) finance bro had I actually taken accounting seriously in high school. Like I totally could've gotten a degree in finance and gone into consulting had I not taken money for granted in high school and really thought seriously about it. Honestly...? That probably would've been an easier way to live than the path I've chosen, but I suspect that what I'm doing will be a bit of fun and probably more intellectually stimulating. So that's okay. I guess.

Another funny thing about this whole ~house~ mini-obsession is that it was merely a month ago that I was freaking out (mildly) about the idea of moving away from home lol.

On to different topic entirely, Knowt has got to be my fav quizlet successor. Having anatomy experience is definitely making these practical cram sessions go by faster.

Today I'm thankful that I'm mostly back to normal and also that I decided to go to this social hour thing where I might've made a new friend (someone who knows my puzzle-friend actually lol)! Now comes the tough part--finding and scheduling things to do with them. It's not like high school where you are with people all the time and come to learn who they are gradually. This takes a lot more conscious effort I feel like.

Okay, enough time spent here. I have (too many) things to do.

[edit, like 20 minutes later: I think I just worked through necessity vs sufficiency in my head and im so proud]

[reyesmarconi]

João Miguel Francisco Zaga Galhardo alias Frank Zaga. Born in 1970 in  Jackson Heights, Queens, New York, to a freshly established Brazilian mother who worked as a housekeeper, he pretty much modeled himself after the older, meaner boys in his neighborhood in the lack of a proper male figure. Flippant and very friendly, he met Charles when they were in their early twenties in the underground fighting scene. Back then Frank was a bit of a scumbag, a con artist of sorts; he readily participated in the rigging of fights in order to make more money than he would by winning fairly – even if he was very talented. It didn’t much matter if he ended up beaten black and blue, so long as he got paid a lump sum for it.

Things went pretty well until he got involved into different types of scams. By then, his gig was found out, and his best friend and partner in the operation, Tomás Ribeiro, was brutally murdered as a result by the Colombian gang that operated the fighting rings at the time. Frank also had to cough up a considerable amount of money in order to not die as well, leaving him practically destitute.

He was 23 at the time, a year younger than Charles. It was the summer of 1993. The experience rattled him and filled him with inmense regret, and he stopped involving himself in crime altogether. Instead he picked up a string of low paying jobs and a drinking habit.

After half a year of aimlessness, he decided to go to college for an Associate’s Degree in Criminal Justice. Surprising everyone that knew him (he’d always been an underachiever), he also managed to graduate. After training under a private investigator for a couple years, he managed to get his PI license.

Turns out he’s a good fighter, but he’s an even better detective. By his 30s, he’s a bit of a local celebrity, having been responsible for solving the highly-publicized disappearance of 8 year old Arlene Kelly. Other than pretty much the highlight of his career, his regular cases are far more banal, but every so often he will get involved in a case that offers more than meets the eye. It helps that, although he’s a “civilian” now, he’s still fairly well connected and knowleadgable about the crime going on in Queens, and New York City as a whole.

He meets Charles again in 1999. He’s tasked by finding new information regarding the disappearance of Patrick Tessier, a financial manager from Manhattan. Tessier has been dead for like 3 years and there’s been like no leads and no signs that the case is getting solved. Police have bigger things in their plate, so Frank is hired by Tessier’s family as a desperate last ditch effort to get some answers about what happened to him.

He and Charles end up meeting – and recognizing each other – in a bar in Hell’s Kitchen a week after he accepts the case. They talk, they drink, they flirt a little, and Frank ends up dropping Tessier’s name just as an aside. “It’s a lost cause,” he declares. “No body, no witnesses, no suspects. I almost feel bad, taking money from a grieving mother. But she insisted, y'know? Wouldn’t take no from an answer. I told her I’d take a look, but I wouldn’t make no guarantees. If police can’t find a missing rich guy, no one can. S’ how I feel about it, anyway.”

The whole time Charles listened attentively – shrugging and smiling wryly at the right times, Frank didn’t notice anything weird about his behavior. Far as he knew, Charles had always been a quiet, serious type. Even when he smiled, even when he laughed, you could tell he wasn’t an expressive guy.

They end up sleeping together that night. Frank continues to investigate, Charles continues with whatever else he’s doing. But they like each other’s company enough to strike up a friendship.

Eventually Frank does find some interesting things he feels the policemen ignored, or probably chose to ignore as to preserve the dead man’s dignity – guy was a closeted homosexual or at the very least bisexual. Not something Tessier’s mother was very proud of, either, given that she was in blunt denial of the fact – even though Patrick Tessier was a New York bachelor in his thirties with a cushy job and time to spare. He doesn’t know if it had anything to do with his disappearance, but it was interesting nonetheless. After hours digging through his apartment (that the Tessiers still owned), he ended up finding his porn stash, and after some fiddling with the safe, getting well acquaintanced with just what types of “interests” he had.

He was an interesting guy, alright.

Anyway, he doesn’t end up getting anywhere. Whole case is a failure, as he pretty much suspected it’d be, and he tries to only charge for only half the time he spent on the case out of guilt, but Margaret Tessier hears none of it. She pays him and tells him to always keep his son in mind.

So he does. The years past and he still thinks about it. Whenever he’s bored he reviews the case file he built on Patrick and tries to come up with something out of thin air. A new insight or new angle that will help him make sense out of this nothingness. After all, by that point he had built something of a reputation solving impossible cases, and this – despite his own wariness – was a reminder he was still fallible.

In the meantime Charles and Frank grow to be close. Charles even helps him with a few cases. They develop an intimate friendship. Frank gets to hold Cael as a child. He becomes a honorary uncle of sorts.

They’re in their forties by the time Charles confesses what he did to Patrick Tessier.

At first, disbelief. Then, as Charles elaborates, the disbelief gives way to anger, for some reason, and then just demanding to know more.

Charles tells Frank about Tessier’s involvement in many a few deaths, including the death of a close friend of his. All of them sex workers. All of them gay. All of them forgettable deaths in the eyes of the city.

Frank eventually comes to understand it. He never had the full picture, both Patrick and Charles made sure of that; Patrick by being extremely secretive about his relationships, Charles by burying whatever evidence had been left of this side of Tessier’s life.

He comes to understand. With time, he comes to shed whatever empathetic image he had built of Tessier over the years. And he comes to shred his case file.

[avintagekiss24]

—with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers; steve rogers

pairing: husband!steve rogers x black!wife!reader

word count: 4420

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, face sitting, choking kink, daddy kink, oral sex (female receiving), female masturbation, slight pain kink, crying kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, cum play, overstimulation, finger sucking/fingers in mouth

squares filled: @star-spangled-bingo G2: “it always ends in a fight” ; @steverogersbingo D4: established relationship

request: steve rogers + face sitting + “don’t come yet”

author note: it’s been so long since i’ve written some steeb. i’ve missed him. anyway, as always these 5k fics will be tagged 5k...holy god, and prompts are in bold. enjoy :)

title inspired by lord huron what do it mean ; line divider by @whimsicalrogers

He tries his best to keep quiet but Steve’s as clumsy as a bull in a China shop. After all these years, he’s still not used to his size— a lazy shoulder thumping into door frames, a mammoth hand (you prefer to refer to them as paws because, come on, they’re fuckin’ huge) knocking over the various bottles of perfume, hairspray, and face creams that line the bathroom counter top. So, when you didn’t hear him come in last night, there’s only one of two reasons why. The last few weeks of wrangling a job, a dog, and a brand new chunky baby is catching up with you— or one hundred year old Steve Rogers is finally coming into his massive body.

It’s the first thing, in case anyone is wondering.

Friends often ask how you can stand being married to him. Your sister still actively tries to get you to join a dating app. It’s not fair that he leaves you without a minute's notice to run off and punch people, sis. Not only is it dangerous, it’s selfish. It’s simple, you tell her— all of them. You love the idiot. Sure, he disappears for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Fucks off to only God knows where to fight only God knows what for the sake of “humanity”, leaving you to man the fort; aka the dog he wanted, and the baby he begged for. But it’s worth it— he’s worth it.

Especially on mornings like this one.

The sun crept into the room at an alarming rate after you closed your eyes last night, which, well, now that you think about it might be because you’re more tired than what you realize. The light covered your face, made it hard to keep the dark behind your eyes, so you shifted a little and that’s when you felt it— him— as you surrendered to the day.

Just a mass of man. Muscle and skin draped over you like another blanket. A long arm is slung over your chest, bent at the elbow, fingers gripping your opposite shoulder. An equally long leg is sprawled over both of yours, helping to pin you down to the mattress. Warm breath tickles the side of your neck and shoulder as his face is crammed right up against your arm. His lips slightly parted as they press gently on your bicep.

Blonde, disheveled hair is matted to his forehead— he sweats a lot, Steve Rogers. That thick flesh of his keeps him a good five or ten degrees warmer than the regular human. Nights are the worst for him because you, in fact, run cold. So, the fan stays off, the windows stay shut, and you cocoon yourself under a pile of blankets.

The two of you have argued extensively over this. It’s plenty simple, you argue, just sleep on top of the covers! He scoffs and rolls his eyes, pushes out a deep breath through his nose every single time you bring it up, and then just crawls underneath the enormous duvet, two velvet quilts, and your thousand thread count top sheet and patiently waits for you to join him.

Steve, you always sigh, but a smile paints your lips the whole while. He never says anything, just holds out his hand and wiggles his fingertips until you take them and let him guide you into that big bed of yours. Let him wrap you up into his chest and arms and legs, lips dragging over your forehead as he smooths your hair back and away with those big, wide palms.

I like feeling you when I sleep, he always says.

A soft, sleepy smile covers your face when you realize he’s home. Blink slow at the ceiling as your fingertips graze up and down the arm slung over your chest. You always forget how good just having him here makes you feel. So each and every time, you just lay there for a while. Soak it in. His warmth. His weight. The calm of his breath. You say a little prayer to whoever is out there listening and give thanks that your man is home in one, well, one-semi piece.

He shifts, just barely, but it allows you to see more of that handsome face. It’s bruised, per the usual, but the blacks and blues and purples are fading fast. They’ll be green and yellow within a half hour, and then completely gone by time the clock strikes 8.

It always ends in a fight, babe, he always says while batting your hands away from a fresh cut or bruise, no need to fuss over it.

So, you don’t anymore. Fuss. You just reach out and caress that smooth cheek, brush your thumb real soft over his lip that you suspect was split when he first climbed into the bed. Watch him sleep as his weight crushes you to the mattress.

Yeah, it’s mornings like this that make it all worth it.

It takes a few minutes, but you regretfully untangle yourself from underneath the hunk of man spread out on top of you. You figure you have about exactly forty five minutes to an hour before the sharp scream of your chubby baby boy rings through the house and Steve’s up making a mess when he honestly doesn’t mean to, so you traipse into the bathroom and start the shower. Strip out of the t-shirt that Steve took from Bucky, which probably belonged to Sam in the first place, and pin your hair up before covering it with a shower cap.

The shower part of your routine is always the quickest, in and out within ten minutes which is honestly the truest testament to being an adult if there ever was one. It’s this part, where you get to sit at your vanity, the one Steve built with his bare hands a little more than a year earlier when the world finally decided to give him a little peace, that you enjoy most.

You’re in your robe, the silk loosely wrapped around your naked body, as you rub cocoa butter into your brown skin. There’s slow thoughts, but they don’t mean much as you dip the pads of your fingers into the little brown jar and rub your hands together absentmindedly as you glance towards the window. You just listen really. Steve’s deep, rhythmic breaths. The silence of the house— the dog hasn’t even wandered in yet, musing for his breakfast and the few stray pieces of bacon Steve tosses his way. The muted chirp of birds and wind as it blows up against the brick.

The world is small in this little hour you get to yourself. You can quantify it and that’s nice to do every now and again when you have a job, a dog, a baby, and a husband who punches things for a living. It’s nice to expect nothing after expecting everything and anything all at the same time, most of the time.

A little shift in the corner of your eye draws your gaze from the window to the bed. There he is. Two hundred and something pounds propped up on an elbow, his big head resting in an equally big palm. Just looking at you. Lips quirked up in a soft smile.

There’s a light laugh that bubbles up in your chest, eyes drop to your legs as you continue to moisturize, shy under his constant gaze still after all of this time but that doesn’t last long. You like looking at him too much.

So you just kinda look at each other for a beat or two, eyes dancing around skin and limbs and chests and everything else you both can manage to see.

Steve gets his fill faster than you do this morning, and tosses the mountain of blankets away from his body before he stands and stretches out like a cat. Heavy footsteps sound as he pulls himself into the bathroom— knocking his shoulder into the door jam as he goes.

“No good morning?” you call, keen eyes watching that perfectly sculpted, naked ass as it flexes with his movements, “What would your mama think, Rogers?”

The rush of water sounds. A light ‘fuck’ as the clink and clang of your perfume bottles fall against the marble sink. Those big ass hands of his.

“I’m not sure how you manage to knock those over every day.”

“You keep movin’ em.” he counters.

“I do not.”

“You keep puttin’ em,” the whir of an electric toothbrush, back and shoulder muscles tensing and flexing, “On my side of the sink.”

“There’s more natural light on that side.”

“Then take this side and I’ll use,” spit, “The other side.”

You glance back towards the window, rubbing your hands slowly within one another and shrug, “I like my sink. Drains faster.”

He chuckles and you smile, “Well then I guess you’re gonna have to get used to me knocking your shit over everyday.”

“Already am, dear.”

There’s a few more minutes of water, soft pats of his wet hands against his face as he washes away the sleep. Damp fingers through his disheveled blonde before he’s back in the room with you, pulling you to your feet.

Minty lips are pressed against yours, once, twice, three times before your top lip is sucked between both of his. Your heart flutters a little, seemingly skipping a beat as you just kinda melt into him— still not sure how an innocent little peck on the mouth can turn into this. Consuming. Soft and warm and wet. Kinda wistful? Like he’s wishing his days were filled with this and only this; you, his son, your dog. No secret missions or black eyes or blood staining his knuckles and suit. Just this.

Steve is too good at this. Grabs your hands with his and pushes his thumbs into your palms, grinding soft little circles into them. Thick fingers then slide between yours, curls around them when you’re palm to palm. That imperfect nose nestled right up against yours.

You could definitely just disappear. Curl up into his mouth and body— be no more. Just be a piece of him, and you’d be a-ok with that.

Another giggle sneaks up into your throat as there’s a new pressure pushing into your thigh. A quick glance downward and you’re gasping, eyes going wide as you disconnect from the warmth of his hands to toss two jelly arms around his shoulders and neck.

“Well that took all of five seconds. Good morning to you, sir.”

Steve tilts your head up and away, let’s his fingers linger underneath your chin as teeth and lips push along your neck, “He likes it when you call him sir.”

“I’m sure he does,” you laugh, eyelids trying all their might to stay open, “Steve,” you stress after a beat—or two— ok, three, eager fingers gripping firm shoulders, “Come on, babe. We don’t have time for this.”

“Why,” a hot tongue slips along your jawline, curls up just behind your ear, “Not?”

“Mmm… cuz um, uh… Joseph, he— he’ll be up any m-minute.”

Steve pulls away, glances back at the video baby monitor placed on your nightstand. He listens for a tick, blinking slow as that super soldier hearing zeros in. Only after he’s satisfied with whatever he heard, or didn’t hear, are you lifted from your feet, the silk robe that was barely clinging to your body as it was, slipping off to the floor in a heap.

Hands grasped firm around your ass (coping more of a feel than anything else), Steve falls back against the mattress, pinning your lower half to his.

“Come take a seat.”

“That’s incredible, you know.” you start, splaying your hands out on his chest.

“What’s incredible?”

“How you know when he’s about to wake up.”

Steve shrugs, “His breathing changes. Goes from deep to kinda shallow— get up here.”

You draw little patterns into his skin, trace the old silvery stretch marks that litter the almost golden perma-tanned canvas, “You can hear that? All the way down the hall?”

“Stop stallin’” he grunts, lifting you off his lap and placing you on his chest, “And sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

You tut, rolling your eyes playfully, but scoot closer and closer to his chin, “Say please.”

“Please come sit on my goddamn face, woman. Damn!”

Up on your knees now, Steve’s fingers skipping up your thighs and squeezing the meat of your hips. The mattress dips as your knees are on either side of his head. He threads his fingers with yours again, wants you to rest your weight into his hands as you ease down over that eager mouth.

Something chokes up in your throat. A moan? A gasp? You aren’t really sure— a mixture of the two you suppose, cuz the warmth that blooms across the inside of your thighs takes you by surprise and makes you shiver. You keep your hands in his as you wiggle some, adjusting your hips and inching forward so his lips and tongue can find that perfect little place. That sweet little nook that makes you—

“Ughhh, Steve,” yeah, that spot, “Baby.”

Fingers detangle from fingers and find their way into soft blonde hair but your hips don’t start to move quite yet. You like giving him a little time to familiarize himself with the territory— not necessarily because he needs to, but because he likes to build it up. Starts slow so he can savor it, makes it last until you’re writhing and crying. Clawing at him. Begging.

So you don’t move— not yet.

Steve let’s his hands linger, anchors one around your hip, his thumb pushing into the crease of your leg as the other skips up your stomach and between your full tits. He tongues your clit, slipping it along the length before flattening it over your slit. Slips it inside real quick as he thumbs a thick, hard nipple.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fingers grip his hair harder as his tongue works back over your clit, quick little flicks of the tip before sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. He releases with a smack, then presses wet lips to the inside of your thigh, kissing slow, perfect white teeth sinking into the soft flesh as those pesky fingers still prod at your tits.

It’s only a few seconds more before you give in, let your hips rock into his nose and mouth and chin. Lean forward when he hits that little spot again, sparks starting to bounce faster, harder. Steve locks eyes with you when you groan and jut your hips forward, forcing eager hips down to cop a feel. Then he smirks against your hot, sloppy wet cunt. Pushes out a breath through his nose, the rush of air stinging your clit.

His hands are on the move again, down your sides, around to your ass, flattening over the little pooch of a tummy Joseph has so lovingly left you. He gets a little louder, smacking more, moaning more as you lean back, grabbing his rigid cock to squeeze and pump it once, twice, three times in your warm palm. You find the tip wet, and can only imagine the deep red blush creeping down the length. Pushing a little further, your fingernails scratch through a rough patch of dark blonde hair before gently palming his balls, noting the heft, how drawn up and tight they are now.

Steve’s tongue stills and you’re instantly picking up the hint, pushing your knees up and out, flattening your feet to the mattress. You wrap your hands around his thighs, dig your nails in, and start to rock your hips into a velvet tongue and red, swollen lips. Head and eyes heavy, both lolling back as quick, high pitched little hums vibrate in your throat. Mouth going slack as the filthy, wet, sloppy sound of his tongue against your cunt grows louder with each buck of your hips.

He spreads your folds and slit open with that flat, wide tongue— the rough of it teasing your insides as you fuck his face hard and fast. Big, warm hands find your tits again, pinch and pull your piqued nipples. Then, one of those paws is wrapped around your throat without so much as a warning. Applying a gentle pressure, pulling out a sharp gasp and a deep, hard muscle tense.

“Don’t come yet,” Steve murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself.”

The words are rushed. Sloppy and slurred. He blows a breath against your cunt, hot and heavy airy sticking to balmy skin— sending a shiver right down your spine. You bring your knees together quick, wiggling back and forth as a long, drawn out groan slips through your teeth. When you don’t heed his warning, too busy riding the rushing high as quick flashes of a deep orgasm ripple through your body, synapses firing in rapid succession, brain going hazy, a heavy slap is leveled to your ass. The sting permeates through thick skin with force as you snap your hips forward, gasping sharp and loud.

Then he’s pinching the inside of your thigh, wanting you to feel his displeasure for your disobedience. You force your knees apart, taking deep breaths, eyes slammed closed as shaky whimpers whir in your throat, “I hear you… I’m sorry,” the words weak and pathetic— just how he likes them, “I’m sorry daddy.”

“Better be,” he mumbles into you again, “Touch yourself while you fuck my tongue, baby.”

Manicured fingers slip between your folds, immediately start to tease and massage that little nub. Steve holds onto your hips, drags his hands up and down your thighs, back up to your tits and nipples. Around your throat. Calloused fingers prodding at your lips, forcing your mouth open to push inside.

It’s not long before your panting. Drooling around his thick fingers as your hips snap hard, your own fingers thrashing against a swollen clit. Steve sucks at your cunt, his tongue dipping in and out as the sound of wet skin slapping against lips and tongue bounces off the walls.

“Steve, I can’t—” you mutter around the salty fingers still shoved in your mouth

He moans, shaking his head back and forth as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, holding tight. He mumbles something, but you don’t hear it— you can’t. You swirl your tongue around his digits, start to nibble on them as you slap at your clit. A molten heat bubbles in your stomach, leaks out and starts to spread through your veins. Muscles tremble— tighten up and then relax before shaking again.

This is the part Steve likes. When you’re whimpering— crying as you start to unravel. He holds tight, firm, tongue swishing back and forth, up and down, teasing that soaked, slutty slit. Fucking you with his tongue, just waiting for it to all pay off in the most beautiful, succinct, perfect way.

When that coil does snap, it lurches you forward. Your cunt spasms, clit jumping as your inner muscles convulse— and his tongue doesn’t stop. It keeps swirling, lips keep sucking as his fingers pin your tongue down to the bottom of your mouth, really making you a slobbering mess.

You have to lift off of him within seconds, sitting back on his stomach as your limbs involuntarily jerk with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You claw at his tits, digging your fingers in as your greedy cunt wants more— grinding against his abs, leaving a wet trail behind. Steve strokes your arms, from your wrists all the way up to your shoulders to help calm you. Massive hands grab your face as he showers praise as the ripples continue, thumbs pushing back into your mouth for you to suck on.

Steve sits up, pulls at the scrunchy collecting your wild, thick hair, to let it spill around your face before he lays you back onto the duvet, “Needy little thing you are, huh?”

You just moan in response, unable to formulate any real words as he moves you around. Wraps your legs around his waist, places your hands on his shoulders. A strangled grunt rises in your throat as he sinks into your sensitive, wet hole— spreads you open wide. Crushes his chest to yours, smothers you under his weight and warmth.

“Steve, baby.”

A hot breath washes over your face as he starts to move— quick strokes as his skin starts to slap soft against yours. He caresses your face, thumbs pushing over your cheeks and nose and lips as the tips of his fingers push into your hair,

“You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you honey?” he leans back just a bit, just to feel your nipples brush along his chest as your tits bounce with his rhythm, “Hmm? You’re my favorite girl?”

“‘m your favorite— favorite girl. Fuck! Oh, G— od.”

He kisses you, but each is brisk, not giving you enough to latch onto. Your head is then tipped back, off to the side to expose your neck so he can sink his teeth into the taut flesh— sucks on the prominent vein that protrudes. Deft fingers find a nipple again, pinches, licks and sucks on it before he grabs your lips between his teeth, pulling gently.

Your feet bounce against the small of his back with each of his thrusts. The tips of your fingers go white as they dig into thick skin and tenses muscles. Tears, hot and heavy, slip down the sides of your face.

“Oh, baby,” Steve hisses, cradling your face in his hands again, “You’re so good. So, so, pretty when you cry for me.”

And you’re coming again. Much quicker this time, but that’s what he was betting on— what he wanted. He wants you overstimulated, pushed to the brink of what you can handle and wants to push you right off the edge. So he can watch you unfold because he knows, deep down and proudly, that he’s the only man that can dismantle you.

As it should be.

Your ego is insane, you’ve laughed in the past when this very subject has come up before.

It’s why you love me, he’s argued back.

But, it often works against him. Wet muscles clamping down around him. Soft, sweet, almost helpless mewls and whimpers in his ear. The faint, filthy words that trip off your tongue. It all takes him down too. Steve Rogers may be a man’s man, but he knows when to concede victory.

He loves filling you up anyway. Filling you up until his hot, thick cum is spilling right back out of you. Loves how his fat cock takes up every inch of your cunt so his seed has absolutely nowhere to go as he drives deep and hard with each spurt. Loves the sound— the squeak of muscles and cum as he rests his forehead to yours, chokes back his grunts and growls while you eat it all up.

Your mouth hangs as you have to cover your face with your fingers, trying and failing to catch your breath. Steve pulls out, but only temporarily— he loves this part too. Pushing your legs forward to your chest to watch his cum leak out of you. It’s so warm, so silky against the delicate skin of your used sex.

He catches it, the string of his seed that escaped with his fingers and massages your folds, your clit, spreading it around before pushing those fingers right back into you. Strokes your hot muscles, curls his fingers, feels your heat and the squish of his cum and your slick as he fucks you slow. Throws his eyes back to yours when you gasp and twitch, trying to pull away.

“Stop,” you beg, pulling at his wrist, “Please, Steve.”

You’re begging because it feels so good it kinda hurts. You’re there and he knows it. To the point where you’re squirming to get away from those long fingers and the brush of his thumb over your hot, sticky clit. He shushes you as he pumps his fingers, presses his thumb against your nub to add more pressure. All because he knows you really don’t want him to stop.

Steve pulls his fingers from you when you're crying hard, lays back on top of you to wipe the hot tears away, “My pretty girl.” he coos, washing you in kisses because you need them.

Hot lips drag down your neck to your chest, suck on your smooth skin, leaving little dark marks behind to remind you of where he’s been. A thick thumb is back in your mouth as he nibbles a nipple into his mouth, flicks at it with his tongue real slow and soft. You hold onto his hand like a child, wrapping both hands around his wrist, sucking on his digit to ground yourself. Bring yourself back from the brink, back into the room, back to the bed.

“You with me, sweet girl?” there’s no real words from you, just a nod and a hum for an answer, “You gotta say it, baby.”

“Mmhuh,” you manage after a few seconds, swallowing thick before you push out a slow breath, “I’m ‘kay.”

“You sure? Tell me the truth.”

“I’m okay,” you breathe hard and heavy, “Promise.”

Steve sits up on his knees, bends your legs at the knee and pulls them open, spreading your folds and cunt open. Fingers push along your clint, squeeze it gently before he slaps it quick. As you’re gasping, his wet cockhead is pushing at your opening again, sliding easy into your used, hot hole.

“The baby, Steve. We can’t, there’s not enough time.”

“Shh, shh, shhhh,” he coos, wasting not a second before his hips are rolling, “I’ll get him if he wakes up.”

“That’s not—”

“You honestly think you’re getting away from me that easy?” the base in his voice splinters down to your core, “I’ve been gone for two weeks,” he says slow, pulling out again to roll you over onto your hands and knees, propping you up real pretty, “Gotta make up for,” he grunts, sliding his cock all the way in, until your ass is flush to his stomach, “Lost time.”

It’s probably in your best interest to start thinking of baby names again.

[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.”

[y0itsbri]

hi bri! 📱 and/or 🫂?

hi mel! 💛💛💛 family content was calling to me today sorry 'bout it lol

📱 text message/phone call headcanon

mickey was such a little shit for the one week that ian had a job at the amazon warehouse while he stayed at home on his honeymoon. their days apart looked something like this.

mickey (8:37am): might go back to bed while my husband is hard at work 🖤

mickey (8:56am): ur pillow is cold fuckin finally

mickey (9:42am): u think judge judy is gettin sum on the regular?

mickey (10:04am): *image attachment*

ian (11:23am): mickey is that really just u smoking in ur underwear

mickey (11:26am): 😏😏😏 see something u like?

ian (11:27am): go away

mickey (12:38pm): picked lil red up from preschool. im definitely winning the favorite uncle competition in case u were wondering

ian (1:34pm): i wasn't. send me a picture of fran so i know she's still alive with ur dumbass

mickey (1:47pm): made sum mac&cheese

mickey (1:56pm): *image attachment*

mickey (1:57pm): *image attachment*

ian (3:31pm): *liked an image*

ian (3:32pm): how did u force her to dress up like u?

mickey (3:35pm): dont act like u dont know she didnt beg to. the matching sunglasses was her idea

mickey (4:23pm): debbie picked her up now. had to practically pry the crying kid away from me

ian (4:45pm): sure i totally believe that

mickey (4:52pm): why would i lie to u loverboy

mickey (5:03pm): lip wants us to come over 2nite btw

mickey (5:04pm): should i tell him to fuck off

mickey (5:06pm): maybe i'll turn tami against him to. that could be fun

ian (5:32pm): jesus christ mickey chill out i'll be home soon

mickey (5:34pm): better hurry the fuck up 😏

🫂 hug headcanon

it's no secret that mickey wasn't as free with his physical affection as teddy-bear ian gallagher was. franny was the only exception for awhile. she hadn't known any other version of mickey than her fun-loving uncle mickey. he had too much of a soft spot for little red -- the girl practically throwing herself at him whatever chance she got. what was he supposed to do? tell her no? not that he wanted to, either. he loved the little bugger, even if her mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

what came as more of a surprise was liam. liam had always been the baby, but he also knew how to read a room and when to keep his distance.

one night, liam had come home late after an evening of frank shenanigans, and begun his homework at the kitchen table. ian was already passed out upstairs, and mickey came down for a late night snack.

he unscrewed the lid to the jar of processed yellow cheese, dipping round tortilla chips straight into it -- crunching loudly.

"whatcha workin' on?"

"gotta study for my math test tomorrow. frank kept me out most of the night."

"oh, i could help you with math if you wanted."

"i thought you dropped out of high school?"

"don't need a high school degree to do 4th grade math, nerd. 'sides, i practically ran my house and family businesses -- i could do this shit in my sleep."

"really!?"

"yeah, kid, whatchu got?"

-

they studied together, eating almost the entire jar of cheese and bag of chips between the two of them, until liam was yawning so much he was making mickey tired.

"go get some sleep, man, i'll clean up."

liam nodded sleepily before trudging up the steps.

-

the next evening, mickey was standing in the kitchen, sipping on a beer and watching ian and lip argue about the stupidest shit when the front door flew open.

"mickey, mickey! i got 100% on my math test!" liam nearly knocked mickey over with the speed that he hurdled into him, hugging him tightly for a moment before his eyes widened. "oh, shit, sorry mick!" he began to pull away until mickey wrapped his arm around the kid.

"hey! good job, einstein, 'm proud of ya," mickey smiled down at the boy.

"thanks," liam said sheepishly as he ran upstairs to discard of his backpack.

--

the following week, they were having a movie night. it was some war movie shit that ian likes but liam would hate. the kid wanted to watch anyways. mickey plopped down on his corner of the couch while ian was digging through the cupboards to find his secret stash of twizzlers. liam sat on the cushion directly next to mickey, a plate of tortilla chips with cheese in hand.

"we can share these if you want," he murmured quietly, unsure.

"oh, sweet! that sounds fuckin' great," mickey shoved a chip in his mouth.

ian stood in the doorway frowning at the kid that took his spot on the couch next to his husband. mickey just nodded his head to the empty cushion on the other side of liam. ian sat and reached over the back of the couch to poke mickey's neck with a twizzler, just to be annoying.

about halfway through the movie, plate of chips now empty save for a couple crumbs, liam began drifting off, bobbing his head. mickey pushed the kid a little bit so he was more comfortable leaning against mickey's shoulder.

ian silently 'awwww-ed' and mickey just proceeded to flip him off. but it felt good to have kids around that actually liked him.

[inactiveanimeblog]

DISCLAIMER : THIS IS JUST A PREVIEW NOT THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER

pls y’all let me know if this is decent enough to continue writing. i wrote it a month ago or whatever but this is the vampire itachi AU i just mentioned in one of my previous blog posts. this one series will include smut, toxicity, and light FLUFF. (wow shocking, me doing fluff wtf)

for this little drabble/intro only warnings is mentions of killing, mentions of drinking, vampires, itachi has no humanity

(so far basically only the intro and how you guys meet is written)

anyways send me an ask or a comment of your opinion, it’ll be greatly appreciated !

vampires. just a myth right? i mean, how could they even exist? walk amongst you like regular human beings. if anyone ever tried convincing you vampires were real you would laugh in their face. “have you lost your mind? there’s no such thing as vampires.” you would say.

except, you were wrong. completely, embarrassingly wrong. there were vampires. ones that most people weren’t aware were around them.

attacks happened frequently, but they would be ruled out as something like a bear attack, or a wolf attack. vampires had such a low profile, that to most of the population they were just a folk tale. a legend.

itachi uchiha had lived the age of twenty one through hundreds of years. along side others in his clan.

he was living in the village of konoha, japan with his younger brother sasuke, and his mother and father. his parents passed away due to a tragic accident when he was at the age of nineteen, and he vowed to take care of sasuke for as long as he lived.

two years later, his village was attacked by what you would describe as beasts. fangs and red eyes. feeding on humans, it looked like a herd of cannibals. itachi along with a few of his clan members and brother survived that night. bitten and turned into murderous monsters, called blood suckers.

itachi wasn’t the noble man like he once was. the hunger had taken over him and he no longer cared for the human race.

he fell in love with izumi uchiha, a member of his clan that was from a different part of japan. she was also a vampire. a sophisticated women, one who he quickly changed his ways for.

until she passed away, thirteen years later due to a stake through her heart. the pain was unbearable for itachi. he became feral again, losing his humanity and killing any human that he could prey on. he would continue his life like before he met izumi, a viscous cycle of slaughtering people.

that was until he found you. y/n l/n. at first you were just another snack of the day, a foolish college girl, wondering by her lonely late at night.

you were beautiful, drop dead gorgeous actually. nonetheless, itachi wasn’t going to let looks alone save you. he was starving, looking for a hunt. and you were right there, so delicious he could almost taste you from just a stare. easy prey.

you noticed a figure nearby. you were dizzy. drunk off shots of don julio, walking off from a frat party to get some fresh air. it was a warm night, about seventy degree’s out. the wind was blowing, but not harshly.

“hey? are you alright?” you called out to the figure. it was probably just a frat boy, drunk doing the same thing you were doing. getting some air.

he walked closer to you, his steps were agonizingly slow and when he stepped into the moonlight you got a good look at him. he was pale, long dark hair tied back with a few strands in front of his face. he wore an all black outfit. he was for sure handsome, unlike any man you’ve ever seen before. there was no way he belonged to any frat house.

“hey, if you’re really drunk i can call you an uber home or something?” you called out again, your phone was in your hand ready to open the app.

he got closer towards you, merely a few inches away. “no that won’t be needed darling.” he responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you go to school here? i’ve never seen you before.. no offense or whatever, but you look like you’re too good to be going here.” you asked, sticking your phone in your back pocket. “if you’re gonna be out here alone you might as well take a walk with me.”

“you wanna walk alone late at night with a stranger you just met?” he asked, his head turning to the side while he looked you up and down. dumb little girl.

you grinned at him and crossed you arms to your chest. “my intuition tells me i have nothing to worry about.” walking closer, almost directly in front of him you mocked his stance, turning your head to the side. “so are you gonna take a stroll with me or are you scared of a little stranger?” you teased.

he grinned back at you and you both walked beside each other along the grass. it was silent for a few moments, almost awkwardly before you spoke up.

“so.. you never answered my question. you go to school here?” looking up at him, you noticed he was already staring at you. intensely as well, his gaze was serious.

“no i don’t go to school here. i’m not in school at all, i was only invited to a gathering and decided to go. maybe grab a bite to eat around here afterwards.” he answered.

“a bite to eat huh? who even eats this late at night? it’s not good for you, also i promise you’ll find nothing good around here. try getting food in the city. much better.” nodding your head assuredly at him. he smiled down at you, a genuine smile. his eyes matched his lips.

“and why do you care what’s good for me? hm?” he questioned.

“i don’t.” you snorted and turned the other way. he only chuckled at your sudden aloofness.

“feisty all of a sudden? and what’s the reason for that love?”

you blushed at the nickname love, he was a very attractive stranger and you weren’t used to this sort of attention unless someone was trying to sleep with you. but this felt different, he actually seemed interested in your presence, interested in your conversation.

[omegasmileyface]

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

[novelconcepts]

Excuse you...😭 The first prompt being absolutely Older Jamie having a cat that bonds with her AND Dani... Sad hours in this house, damn

She never let them have pets. There isn't much Dani Clayton regrets--isn't much point, she's found, in the endless, boundless stretch of after--but sometimes, she does regret that much. Jamie always laughed it off, said she didn’t mind--What do I need pets for? Got more than enough to keep alive, thanks very much.--but Dani knew she’d never had animals growing up. Hadn’t stood still long enough for a cat, or a rabbit, or even fish. Maybe it’s true that you can’t miss what you never had, but she can’t help wondering if Jamie’s got some little puncture, deep down, that should have been filled with a big-hearted creature who would have put her first. 

And Dani, to her eternal chagrin, hadn’t been able to fill that. Hadn’t been able to allow herself that. The beast, she was sure, would someday rise, and it was bad enough to think of Jamie going without. Bad enough to imagine Jamie staring hollowly at the door, wishing for Dani’s key in the lock. What would a dog have done? What would an animal who had only ever wanted love and to be loved have thought, the day Dani inevitably left and could not return home again?

How she’d thought of it in life, anyway. Now, she’s aware of so much. Aware of time in a slipstream around her, of the immediacy of the past, the present, the future all bound up with gold-edged ribbon. She is Dani Clayton, eight years old and watching her father waste to nothing, and she is Dani Clayton, twenty-nine and watching Eddie laugh at their engagement party, and she is Dani Clayton, thirty-one and watching Jamie nervously place a moonflower on a counter. Forever, she is Dani Clayton--the lost little girl, the stubborn young woman, the beloved wife. 

And Jamie? Jamie does not yet understand forever. She isn’t yet a part of the slipstream. Jamie is silver-haired, twisting that ring: a gardener and a widow, a storyteller and a scarred heart. Jamie doesn’t get it yet. Dani wishes she could tell her. Wishes she could impart the wisdoms of after while Jamie can still make use of them. 

She can’t. She’s tried. Her hand on Jamie’s shoulder, night after night, she’s tried to will the knowledge into the love of her life. I’m here. I’m always right here. You have to keep living, Jamie, you have to keep going, because I will always be right here. 

For years, she’s worried it’ll never sink in. For years, which are moments, which are blinks, she watches Jamie stagger through the world. Jamie, making bargains with gods and ghosts. Jamie, unable to see her, unable to let her go. Jamie, desperate and grieving and miserable. It sets an ache in Dani’s chest she hadn’t thought she could feel anymore. All time is now. How is there still pain?

But watching Jamie--watching her run baths, button into Dani’s old blouses, prop that god-forsaken door open in dozens of hotels over the years--how could it not be painful? Watching Jamie hurt is the worst of the world. Watching Jamie in her recklessness, watching solid, grounded Jamie crack open one empty mirror at a time. How could it not dig at her?

You’ll understand, Dani thinks--and it is as much a wish as a certainty. Someday. Soon. Now. Always. You’ll understand. The gardener always learns. The gardener always listens. The gardener can’t not piece it together, given enough time. 

But, for Jamie, it’s slow. It’s linear. It’s one day at a time, one year after another. For Jamie, it’s another Christmas alone. Another of Dani’s birthdays celebrated in silence: a lit candle, a photo, a woman bent over her own knees as her shoulders shudder. For Jamie, time plods. Time bleeds. Time is a wound she can’t stitch shut.

And then: the first one follows her home.

It’s an accident, Dani knows--would know, even if Jamie hadn’t in recent years taken to muttering to herself in the solace of an empty room. Jamie hadn’t even realized it was happening until the scruffy little mongrel followed her off the street, into the building. It sits--curly black fur, enormous brown eyes--at her side as if waiting. As if the invitation is implicit. As if it’s already home.

“No,” Jamie says. Dani can’t help smiling; there’s something to Jamie saying no that way that has always sounded an awful lot like a wall coming down. And, sure enough, the minute the door is open, the dog saunters inside as though it has never belonged anywhere else.

A bit, Dani thinks, like Jamie after Dani had taken her hand that night. 

It’s an accident, but Jamie has never been much good at turfing out creatures in need of love once they’re inside. The dog stays. Jamie calls him Iowa--it seems to have been the first thing to slip out of her mouth, and the dog cocks his head and wags his nub of a tail, and that’s that. Jamie, for the first time in her life--fifty-seven years old, paying rent on her first flat in over a decade--has a pet. 

Dani thinks it’ll be good for her. A dog begs routine. A dog needs walks, and feeding at reasonable hours, and doors that are shut at night. That Iowa seems older--relaxed and certain and just a bit bull-headed--is even better. He doesn’t run ragged around the flat, knocking into tables, shattering flower pots. He simply trots along at Jamie’s side as though he’s always been there. 

It would be enough, Dani senses, if it were just the two of them. Jamie has always thrived in the caring for other living things. Jamie is happiest when given a task, a hands-on approach to the world. The dog, she may not have sought out--but the dog is hers, and she is his, and there is a kind of salvation in unexpected love. 

The next one is even more of an accident, if that’s possible. A huge bear of a beast, shaggy and stained and wet-eyed. Jamie finds it limping through the streets of London with mud caked on its belly and head hung low. No tags. No marker of any kind. Iowa nudges her around the knees, looking at the mountainous creature, and Jamie sighs. 

“No,” she tells him, but Dani--and Iowa--can tell it’s a lie even before the syllable is completely formed. Jamie is already reaching a cautious hand toward the trembling dog. It whimpers. It presses its nose to her outstretched fingers. Iowa’s tail wags. 

London is, when given a proper bath and brushing, quite beautiful. Her limp is temporary; her attachment to Iowa in particular, eternal. The first night, with the dog resting her chin on Jamie’s knee, stretched across a threadbare couch, Jamie says, “Found it on the street. Wanted to save it” in a tone that suggests she’s speaking from a dream. Her jaw clenches. Her eyes close. Dani has never wanted so badly to break her own rules.

Neither dog seems to notice her. She’s relieved, in a way; Jamie’s nightly ritual never wavers, save for reluctantly closing the door--as with so many features of Jamie’s world, the safety of others precludes her own--and if the dogs began barking at shadows, it’s likely Jamie would never sleep again. Anyway, these aren’t her pets. Jamie has saved them--or they’ve saved her--and that bond is one Dani can’t muster envy for. 

Two dogs and a home full of plants. It doesn’t bring the light back into Jamie’s eyes, not all the way, but she walks a bit taller these days. Fidgets a little less. Cries often enough, but now there are soft muzzles to press her face against when she does. It’s better, Dani can see. Nothing will ever be what it was, but better is sometimes the most you can ask for in life. 

The third dog is less an accident, more a surprise. A two-for-one deal, to a degree; Jamie has wandered into the local shelter, where she’s taken to volunteering on weekends, and come across a sharp-toothed, snappish shepherd no one else seems able to touch. He’s been through the ringer, the other volunteers say, sage and exhausted by similar experiences. Abuse, probably. Neglect, probably. Only three or four, but with enough mistrust baked into his bones for three lifetimes. 

“He doesn’t like men,” one weary-looking young man says. “Or people who move too fast. Or multiple people coming at him all at once.”

“Can relate,” Jamie says, her mouth quirking. Dani laughs. “What does he like?”

The volunteer points. There, in the back of the shepherd’s cage, is a lithe black shadow. It blinks lantern-gold eyes up at Jamie, tail twitching, and makes a rasping sound that might, in another animal, have been a proper meow. 

“Came in same-day. Can’t separate ‘em. Not sure how we’re going to get them adopted.”

Jamie rubs her jaw, left hand hesitating on the way down. She touches the tip of a finger to her ring and heaves a sigh. 

“Fuck.”

She calls the shepherd Paris, and though it takes time--several patient weeks, Jamie turning up at regular hours each day to coax the nervy animal into growing accustomed to her smell, her voice, her easy-slow method of moving--by the time the papers are signed, there’s no changing it. The flat is now overrun, dog hair clinging to every surface, water bowls standing sentry in the kitchen. The cat’s litterbox goes into the bathroom, Jamie frowning a little as she surveys the new landscape of her home. 

“You,” she tells the cat. “Best behavior. Anything goes crash in the night, it’s your hide.”

The cat preens, rubbing around her ankles. Jamie sighs.

“Christ, if she could see me now.”

Something tugs deep in Dani’s chest--pride, and sorrow, and love of the most fervent kind. The dogs--proud Iowa, sweet London, Paris keeping a careful distance from both--are draped around the living room. Jamie’s home is theirs. Jamie is their home. Dani knows so well what that feels like. They’re lucky creatures.

The dogs are sleepy, warm, happy. The cat--

The cat is looking at her.

Dani frowns. She’s imagining things. Must be. She’s been drifting around Jamie--traveling the world at her side, resting a hand over her shoulder each night--for years and years. Nothing has ever looked at her. Nothing has ever seen her. Not Jamie. Not the dogs. Nothing. 

But this cat. This cat, with its huge golden eyes, black ears twitching, is staring right at her. 

“Huh,” says Dani.

“Mrow,” says the cat.

“C’mon,” says Jamie, oblivious to it all. “Supper.”

Days go by before Jamie properly names the cat. She strokes her fingers gently over the creature’s back, tracing the length of spine and tail, and frowns each night. “Who,” she says quietly, “are you?”

The cat butts against her palm, rumbling deep in its chest. Jamie makes a soft pensive sound.

“Vermont?” She shakes her head. “Nah. You’re different, mm? Somethin’ else.”

The cat chirps, turning its head, gazing into the corner where Dani is leaning. Dani raises a hand, wiggling her fingers experimentally. The cat makes the same noise a second time, as if in greeting. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Eerie little beast. Never thought I was much for cats, y’know. But here you are.”

Never thought you were much for people, either, Dani thinks with amusement. Didn’t stop you drawing us all close. 

In the end, Jamie begins calling the cat Gremlin. A nickname, offered in warning, at first--any time she moved too near a plant, or experimentally sniffed at London’s paws while she slept, Jamie would quietly intone, “Oi. Gremlin. Back it up.” It is, in its own way, reminiscent of the way Poppins had clung to their first year--an accidental gift cherished by its recipient. 

Dani can tell the cat--rumbling her pleasure each time the name is used--agrees. Plants are left to their devices. The dogs seem strangely hard-wired to accept the cat as their queen. Jamie shakes her head. 

“So be it, suppose.”

It’s good, watching her build a routine around them. Dani hasn’t seen her stand this still since Vermont, but the dogs love the nearby park, and Gremlin sunbathes happily on the balcony, and Jamie seems, for the first time in years, to be fostering a simple sort of peace. The baths still fill, and her eyes are still too often far-away, but the door is shut. The dogs stretch out around the living room--which doubles, as all living spaces have for a decade, as Jamie’s bedroom--as if warding off intruders. The cat sets up shop on the back of the couch, peering down with regal bearing as Jamie slowly dozes off. And, when Dani inevitably presses a hand toward Jamie’s shoulder the first night--

“Hey,” she says, very quietly. “What’s this?”

Gremlin makes a raspy sort of sound, nudging toward her. She does not make contact, exactly; Dani hasn’t quite figured out touch, in all this time. She hasn’t had much cause. Touching Jamie is a dream, an ache she has carried since her death that reminds her forcefully of before, at Bly, when she hadn’t thought herself worthy or capable. Touching Jamie is the one part of all of this that still feels linear--I could touch her in life, and I can touch her when she gets here, but in between...in between...

In between, Dani can reach toward her. Can brush the space around her shoulder. Can be here, with her, in every way except directly, because some things are still unfair. Like Jamie feeling alone, even with Dani right here. Like Dani being able to always-someday-soon-now except for where it matters most.

She is in the kitchen at Bly, and she is in their bedroom in Vermont, and she is 1976, 1988, 1999, and she is--

Almost petting this cat. Almost. Her brows come sharply together, her heart thudding. 

“How?” she asks Gremlin, who seems not to mind. The cat presses in a bit harder, as if to say, Keep trying. Dani sees no reason not to obey. 

Each night, the animals spread around Jamie in a protective circle: Paris at the door, London beside the couch, Iowa nestled between Jamie’s knees. Each night, Gremlin sets up on the back of the couch, watching Jamie’s breath even out, and turns those enormous eyes on Dani.

And, little by little...

She can’t pick the cat up, or close her hands gently around her face. She can’t make the kind of contact she would as a living woman--matter pressing against matter, mass imposing upon mass. But her fingers are unequivocally brushing thick black fur. She can feel the cat’s breath on her skin. This is true, and real, and solid--and the cat, looking entirely too proud of herself, can plainly feel her in return.

Dani Clayton has been dead for over a decade, and Dani Clayton has been here all the same ever since, but for the first time, Dani Clayton is touching. Dani Clayton is feeling, not simply in the ether of memory, but now. 

She holds a breath as Gremlin rubs against her fingers. She’s still holding it when, slowly, carefully, she reaches down to the couch. 

Her fingers brush silver. Jamie’s brow knits, her lips parting. She’s always looked like this in sleep--as though some part of her just isn’t willing to shut down all the way. She’s always looked as though some part of her needs to be on guard. 

Now, with Dani’s fingers threading through her hair, that tight, armored expression gives a little bit. Just a little. 

In the morning, Dani wonders if Jamie’s eyes will flicker open and she will, finally, see her. There’s a breathless kind of terror to the idea--that she’s gone this long keeping Jamie safe from diving permanently into her own grief, only for a cat to undo all of that work. But, when the sun rises and Jamie rises with it, she gives no sign at all. No sign that she can see Dani, standing beside the couch, though Gremlin is staring right at her. No sign that anything has changed.

Except--except her hand, lingering at the crown of her head. Her fingers, sifting almost absently through her hair, tracing the same path Dani had been unable to pull away from. Her brow furrows. Her head shakes. 

“Breakfast?” she asks the animals in various stages of waking around her. Gremlin stretches, back leg popped high, and hops down. Dani doesn’t think she’s imagining the cat’s easy swagger as she makes her way to the kitchen. 

It isn’t the life she’d imagined for Jamie, laying awake and watching her sleep. Not the life she’d wanted for Jamie, hoping as hard as she could that the beast would remain always at bay. She’d never looked at Jamie and expected dogs to follow her home, hurt and lonely and in need of someone to show them the world can be kind. She hadn’t expected a cat with a swishing tail and a regal demeanor, standing sentinel. Jamie’s life has never quite veered in this direction before.

But: watching her now, as she slips a bit of apple to each dog, strokes the cat, leans her hip against the counter as she waits for the water to boil, Dani has to admit it suits her. Jamie has always been at her best giving love, even against her own better judgement. 

In time, Dani’s sense of soon-someday-now-always will broaden to encompass Jamie, as well. The years will press on. There will come a time where the brush of Dani’s hand across her sleeping cheek--the phantom press of Dani soothing Jamie out of a particularly bad nightmare--will evolve into the intertwining of finally standing on the same plane again. It is the natural order of things. Organic. Dani, standing outside of time, is patient. 

And Jamie: is slowly building herself a home again. Jamie is waking to take dogs out, and brushing down Gremlin’s ink-black fur, and looking more present in the world than she’s been in a decade. Jamie, staring into the mirror each night with Paris pressed resolutely against her legs, Iowa hovering in the doorway, almost smiles. 

“Someday,” she murmurs, “I am going to have some stories for you.”

Dani smiles. She knows, of course--outside of time, it’s hard not to know--but she can’t wait to hear them, all the same. Stories always land a little differently, coming out of Jamie’s mouth. 

Soon, she promises silently. Someday. Always. Now. 

In the meantime, Jamie reaches for a bundle of leashes, giving Gremlin a brief scratch between the ears. She pauses at the door, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes drifting over Dani without notice. At her side, heading the pack, Iowa gives a small bark to confirm his readiness. 

“Right,” says Jamie softly. “Back soon.”

It is the first time in too long Dani has been sure she will be okay.

[consumeconstantly]

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble. 

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place. 

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet. 

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.” 

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip. 

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did. 

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again. 

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected. 

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned. 

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

[thedeathdoctor]

Kinktober Day 1: Voyeurism

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Peephole

Your first few days at the Heelshire manor passed smoothly enough. Sure, the day-to-day routine differed from what you expected it to be when you accepted the position, but it didn’t bother you too much. 

After your five years in college, you had earned your degree, as well as a newfound difficulty with regular sleeping, eating, and sometimes bathing. The days consisted of you rushing to class and office hours and meetings, assignments barely completed in your remaining free time, and in the margins you kept yourself alive. Graduation came and went and then you were alone, degree in hand, a shell of yourself. You felt like the human shaped doll you cared for, hollow and fragile. 

You followed the schedule the Heelshires had given you. Despite being an adult, you felt that it was a good routine for you to stick to as well. It was a hell of a lot better than being in the mental hospital anyway, where they literally did treat you like a preschooler, complete with requiring you to ask them to fill your water bottle. Here, Brahms was your child and your companion. Doing things together helped you; caring for Brahms allowed you to care for yourself by extension. 

Outside of the schedule, you found yourself reading more, painting more, creating more. You found yourself daydreaming out loud to Brahms frequently. You would wax on about places you have seen and have yet to see, your old friends, the family you still talked to on occasion. All of it, including the pain, the divorce of your parents that never went through but should have, how you only made it through highschool because your ex promised he would make the family you always wanted only after you both graduated, the breakup after you realized that he wasn’t putting in any work into the future that he said he wanted, and the miscarriage you told no one about.  Brahms was a good listener, and honestly, that was really all that you needed lately. Someone to be there while you work things out, out loud. 

After putting Brahms to bed, you usually took some time to yourself to unwind and relax. It took a bit to allow yourself to enjoy such a luxury, but regular bubble baths in their fancy, claw-footed porcelain tub became an integral part of your self care routine. Firstly, you found it convenient that you could wash yourself without having to towel dry your hair afterward every time. 

And then you discovered what wonders the handheld water faucet held.

-------

You were unaware of the large, virile man lurking in the walls of the manor, and of the discreet peepholes scattered about the house. Invisibly, the living Brahms spent nearly every moment of the day with you, admiring how you cared for the doll, and longing to one day take its place in your arms. When you spilled your heart and soul out loud to your silent audience of one, he listened intently, hanging onto every word you shared. The mask he wore weighed especially heavily on him those times, a reminder that no matter how perfect he was for you, he was still too irredeemably broken to deserve you. And so, he graciously shielded you from his presence by continuing to exist in the walls, a shameful thing that wanted to live freely in the house - not as a part of it but as its resident, together, with you. 

Trapped in a constant state of yearning. 

The closest he could get to you was by watching you, and holding the clothes that he had stolen from the bottom of your dirty laundry bin. They smelled of you the most, and when he couldn’t find your scent on them anymore, he would carefully place them back in the bin, at the bottom. He soon realized that it was much easier for him to steal your panties - you had a colorful variety of them that you chose to wear at random. Truthfully, you had no idea how many you had, only that you had enough of them. 

And so, as you slipped into the steaming, bubble filled tub, hungry eyes followed you from the unremarkable gap in the bathroom wall. Brahms held up a pair of your worn, lacy panties to the mask and breathed in your scent. His right hand palmed the crotch of his wrinkled trousers, massaging his cock through the fabric as it grew and stiffened. You took a large yellow sponge and began to gently wash up your arms, first your left, and then your right, leaving a trail of bubbles running and dripping up to your shoulders. You moved onto washing your shoulders, and his body shuddered involuntarily as he imagined gently wrapping his bulky hands around your graceful neck and pressing kisses from your shoulders to your jawline. 

The sponge dipped below the layer of bubbles, giving him a moment to pry his eyes away from your body and work on freeing his straining cock. His fingertips frantically fumbled with his pants opening - mentally cursing his large hands for their clumsiness - and letting them fall around his thighs. Cradling the shaft in one hand, he grew into his full length with only a minimal amount of slow massaging. When he held it at the base, over half of it cantilevered from his grasp, two throbbing veins on either side led down his erection to his deep pink head. Precum drooled from the tip, beading up and spilling down in generously viscous strands. He wasn’t sure if it was adequate enough for your standards, and more so felt that you would find it just as grotesque and repulsive as the rest of his body.

Returning his attention to you as you washed the rest of your body, he stroked himself lazily, anticipating what you usually did next. You drained the bath and carefully washed the remaining bubbles off with the hand faucet, making sure that you wouldn’t find dried soap clinging to your skin in the morning. Water ran down your exposed body as you rinsed yourself, before propping your elbow up on the edge of the tub and letting the stream of water find its way between your thighs. You let it trace your vulva in large circles, all the sensitivity in your body migrating towards it and leaving the rest of your body in a soft, blissful paralysis. The circles slowly tightened until it settled on your clitoris, the water pressure teasing it gently, methodically as you coaxed your first orgasm out of your tightly wound body. 

Brahms stroked himself faster with you, trying to pleasure himself at your pace. His movements jerkily slowed, however, as you came. The first time he had watched you, he had spent himself entirely, and afterward could only listen from his resting position as he reclined sleepily against the wall as you worked yourself over and over. From then on he had forced himself into a form of restraint in order to last longer alongside you. He studied your routine attentively, as he did with all other aspects of your life. You would orgasm clitorally a few times, then finish by adding your fingers as well. 

Dizzy and lightheaded with the past few orgasms now settling down into your body, your free hand wandered past your hipbones and cheekily massaged your clit before parting your labia with a gentle finger. Brahms’ movement hitched, imagining his fingers replacing yours, feeling the sensitive, soft skin as it slicked his fingers with your warm juices. A thought crossed his mind - what your taste would be, and if it could possibly be better than your scent - as he held your panties up to his mask once more. He found himself adrift in his fantasies, the feeling of pressing you down into his mattress, feeling your lithe body squirm beneath him as his thick fingers worked themselves into you, your sighs and screams echoing throughout the estate, your taste on his lips, his other hand firmly holding your hips as he teased a cascade of orgasms from you, surrounded by your sweet, dizzying smell, you, you, you it was always you, who I ever needed in my life, please stay here with me and be mine forever- bonding you all to himself forever, entwining the two of you physically, emotionally, spiritually, biologically for all eternity. 

In the bath, you tipped yourself over into the rush of your final orgasm, letting a breathy moan rise from your lips, the sound bringing Brahms to a climax so overwhelming, the first spurt of his thick, milky cum hit the slatted boards inside the wall before he remembered to catch the rest with a cloth. Behind his mask, his mouth fell open as he let out a faint, deep moan, and fell to his knees. The sound startled you out of your comedown, and half cognizant, you froze up and called out to the house you knew to be empty. 

“Hello??”

[komfortkiri]

HELP WANTED (PART 2)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 2,997 TW/CW: ABSENT PARENT MENTION (I know some people get really bothered about absent parents)

NOTES: No banner yet. And yes, I posted two parts in one day BECAUSE I’M LIVING FOR THIS. The next part I’ll include things from Kiri and Sero’s POV. I got tired toward the end of this one and wanted to finish and post it before going to sleep.

Your alarm went off at 6:45 AM, allowing you more time to actually get ready and look like a decent human being.. well, sort of. You laid there for a moment, though, thinking that if this really went well, you could be leaving within the next week. You’d have to tell your father and though he’d be hurt, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t come back to visit. With a deep breath, you threw your legs off the side of the bed, holding your arms over your head to stretch. The stretch was so good that you almost fell back into your mattress and went back to sleep but you shook your head and rose to your feet, proceeding to your bathroom to shower.

After you took your shower from Hell, you walked out of your bathroom and back into your room, making your way to your closet to browse over the clothes you had. You realized quickly that you should probably do some upgrading to your wardrobe but you’ll worry about that another day. Your eyes scanned over everything and nothing really stood out to you so you pulled out your phone to check the weather, seeing that it was pretty cold out— roughly 23 degrees. Coffee definitely sounded luxurious right now and that thought alone made you check the time to see that it was now 7:15 AM. You took a little longer in the shower but the scorching water felt like Heaven to you.

You sighed, taking a long-sleeved, burgundy turtleneck half-shirt off of a hanger along with a pair of black high-waisted jeans. You tossed both articles of clothing onto the bed then went to your small dresser in the corner of your room to open the top drawer, pulling out a white colored bra and a matching pair of panties to go with it. You closed that drawer then opened the second drawer, getting some black socks that rose to just under your knee. Once you had everything, you dropped your towel then threw your undergarments on, along with your socks.

During your dressing, you received a text message from the Kiri person so you rushed over to it, hoping they weren’t cancelling the get together. Relief washed over you whenever you read the message.

FROM KIRI: Morning! Wanted to send you a text to tell you that me and my roommate are getting ready and should be at the coffee shop closer to 8:30 AM. We still on?

You replied rather quickly, it was almost creepy.. like you were waiting for a text.

TO KIRI: Good morning! Yes, of course! I’m getting ready right now as well.. I may be there earlier than you both since it’s right around the corner from me!

Once the message delivered, you threw your phone back onto your bed then put on your shirt and pants, which had a special made hole just for your tail, then walked over to your full body mirror hanging on the wall. “Not bad.. Not bad at all.” It was almost like you were hoping these were men that you were meeting. You scoffed at your thought, nah. You walked back to the bathroom to grab your hair brush, one for the hair on your head and another for the fur on your tail. It was weird in a way.. you had to color coordinate what you used for your tail because the fur wasn’t as soft as your actual hair was. Once you finished grooming yourself, you put on a pair of flat-bottom, over-the-knee, black boots. 

Time, what was the— shit! Your damned tail, taking so much time to brush through. It was now 8:05 so you had to rush a little bit if you wanted to be extra early and order what you needed so you grabbed your black trench coat off your coat rack, grabbed your phone then your backpack that held your wallet and other necessities that you may need throughout the day and booked it out of your room and out of your front door. Your dad must have had to work this morning, considering his car wasn’t out front but nonetheless, you expected as much from a police officer.

NO TIME TO THINK, you thought so you turned in the direction of the coffee shop and started walking. Your walking turned into walking fast then into.. running, which doesn’t affect you much considering it’s part of who you are. You thankfully had a bottle of perfume with you, just in case you smelt like a wet dog and you sprayed a few pumps amongst your coat and a few on your neck. You took a minute to catch your breath right outside Camille’s front door then walked in.

“My, my.. Look who it is! If it isn’t my dear Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, must be pulling extra shifts at the animal shelter, huh?” Camille practically rushed to you, bringing you into a hug. All you could do was smile and accept her embrace then return it. If you were being honest, you really needed the hug. “Hi, Camille! I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting like I normally do. I have picked up a few more shifts so I can save up for a place of my own.” You took a seat at your usual spot, right up close to where she made most things. There was a small little bar, in which, Camille practically saved your seat every morning when you started coming in. She was like a mom to you, which was nice in its own way considering yours wasn’t worth a shit. 

Camille knew just about everything about your life so you felt awful knowing that you hadn’t been around in a few weeks but you had to do what you need to first. “You know, darling, whenever you stopped coming in, these two very handsome boys started coming in every morning. It was almost fate in a way. They kept me company while you were gone, but don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my favorite girl is back.” Boys? Was this elderly woman really trying to hint at hooking you up right now? All you could do was shake your head and laugh as she set your usual in front of you— hot hazelnut coffee, extra sweet. You lifted the glass mug to your lips, speaking from behind it, “Boys, huh? Camille, are you trying to set me up?” A smirk formed along your face as you took a sip of the coffee, humming softly in satisfaction, your ears falling back some. She always did make the best coffee, it never failed.

The older woman laughed then leaned back onto the counter opposite from the one you were at, “Now, you know I wouldn’t meddle into your love life, dear. All I’m saying is, they are complete gentleman.” She leaned forward on her elbow, whispering her next statement. “If I was year and years younger, I’d probably take both of them.” This made you snort then double over in laughter, “Camille! Shame on you!” All she did was shrug then before she could respond, her eyes lit up when she realized who was entering her shop. You noticed this look and raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee. Camille realized your eyes were on her and she nodded toward the door, mouthing that’s them. You tried your best not to make it obvious but you turned your head just enough to the side to peer over your shoulder and boy, she was not kidding. However, these were definitely not boys.. they were pure men. 

You quickly turned your head before they realized you were ogling them, your insides heating up. All you could think of was how the good Lord above took his sweet time crafting both of them. Your heightened sense of hearing allowed you to listen in on what was being said between both of the guys and Camille so you just barely turned your left ear to the side, lifting your coffee again to take another sip.

“My boys! Where have you been? Fighting crime as usual?” Camille greeted both with a big hug each before one of them answered her. “Yes ma’am, you know us. We have to make sure nothing happens to your wonderful coffee shop.” Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Smooth. “Always such sweethearts, come. I want you to meet another regular of mine.” Please don’t, please don’t, plea— “Y/N?” Your face was probably as red as a beet at this point but you turn anyway with a smile that was semi-forced. You hadn’t much prepared well on talking to… very, very attractive men. “Boys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Eijiro and Hanta.” You shook each of their hands, your insides felt like they were being lit on fire at this point.

The man known as Kirishima smiled, “You can call me either Ei, Eiji or Kiri, though.” The fire was immediately put out by his statement. You were thanking all the Gods that you didn’t have your coffee in your hand because you would have dropped it. “D-Did you say Kiri?” You cleared your throat, scratching the back of your head nervously. 

“Yeah, do you know me? I mean, I’m a pro-hero but do you know someone I know or—“ You cut him off, not meaning to, but you had to get it out. “No, I.. I inquired about the roommate ad you had put up. We texted this morning and last night?” Kirishima and Sero’s eyes widened and they looked at each other. Something tells you they really weren’t expecting the person they were meeting to be a woman, but you were in the same boat because you didn’t expect for the two people you were meeting to be two gorgeous piece of asses either.

Sero spoke this time as he looked back at you, “So you are looking to be our roommate?” You blushed a soft shade of pink, not really knowing how to properly answer that but you did anyway. “Well, I-I didn’t really plan on you guys being, well… guys.” Both men laughed then Kirishima sat next to you, Sero sitting next to him on the other side. Camille put their coffees in front of him, Sero’s was partnered with a bagel. She gave you a wink then rushed back to the kitchen, peering out the little window in the door. All you could do was shake your head with a grin. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you definitely don’t have to move in with us but we’d like to be your friend.” 

You smiled at that but thought of the trouble you’d get yourself in just by being their friend. It was almost impossible not to yank both by their collars to the bathroom and— “Wolf quirk, eh?” Sero’s voice shook you out of your inappropriate thoughts. It’s almost like he knew where your head was spiraling to. “Y-Yeah. My dad is also part wolf as well.” You nodded, clearing your throat even though you really didn’t need to as there was nothing to clear. 

“What about your mom?” Sero pressed, not knowing that talking about your mother was something you hated doing. You sighed quietly, eyes darting in front of you to a blank space on the white wall in front of you. Your ear fell back, tone filled with… hatred when you spoke, which you didn’t intend for, but your burning rage for her was not controllable. “Don’t know her. She left not too long after I was a baby. Just up and left in the middle of the night and nobody has seen her since.” 

Kirishima looked at Sero, eyes saying way to go, idiot. He wanted to lighten the mood so he changed the subject quickly, “So, uh.. about your quirk..” You three sat there for what felt like hours just talking, having casual conversation. They asked about your quirk, showing high interest in every aspect of it. You reassured them that you didn’t shed hair so they didn’t need to worry about any of that. You didn’t realize that they were pro-heroes until they told you their hero names and you almost choked on your semi-hot coffee. You had heard of both but you never really are around the action to put a face to the name. They both do a lot of good work around your city, in which, you are thankful for with your father being on the police force. Without them, your dad would probably have been hurt or worse. 

Your anger about your mother had withered away and you were really enjoying yourself with the two men next to you. Your tail was moving to-and-fro the entire time, meaning you were happy. It got silent at one point and that prompted to Sero clear his throat then bump his elbow into Kirishima’s own, basically trying to push on this conversation. Kirishima turned his body a little toward you, his tone was soft, “Um.. This roommate thing.. It’s obvious you aren’t a serial killer, unless you’re a really good actor. You don’t have to give us an answ—“ You held your finger up with a smile because it was clear he was about to start rambling on due to nerves and not wanting to overstep. “You don’t have to say anymore. I’m super down for being your roommate.” It seemed like relief washed over the both of them because they smiled at you. “Hell yeah, you can move your stuff in at any time. Just let us know when so we can help you.” Sero nodded in your direction and you nodded back with a smile.

Moving in.. with two insanely attractive men.. What could go wrong, right?

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

socks, penguins, and dinosaurs

summary: you and spencer are roommates, both living in the same apartment as you’re on your way to obtaining your MD and Spencer applying to be a part of the bau. although, despite the germaphobe spencer is, he seems to love leaving his clothes everywhere

word count: 1,081                                                                                               reading time aprox: 4 mins

masterlist

Clothes were piled up on the floor, various colors of t-shirts and blouses littered every inch of the apartment I shared with Spencer. Sifting through the mess, I began picking up all the soiled clothes and placing them at their appropriate places, gagging as diverse scents infiltrated my nose. 

I sighed, scratching the back of my neck as I witnessed the amount of laundry I would have to do. I huffed all the way back to my room, taking a peek at Spencer’s, only to notice that he wasn’t present at the moment. 

He better have went to go grocery shopping or else that IQ of his won’t be saving him from the slap on the forehead I’m about to give him. 

I dramatically tossed myself onto the sheets of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with crossed arms. I tossed and turned as I laid sprawled and tangled up in my covers, accidently kicking throw pillows off to the side. 

I can’t seem to get some warmth with whatever I do. 

I groaned in frustration, rubbing the palms of my hands on my arms in attempt to generate some sort of heat. I stood back up to look at the thermometer and noticed that it was 60 degrees in the room. I dragged myself up to my dresser, scrummaging through the mess in a haste in attempt to find warmer clothing. I grabbed an oversized turtleneck, another pair of sweatpants, and some winter mittens. While searching for a fuzzy pair of socks, I realized all of my pairs were in the laundry. 

“For the sake of everything living” I cursed at myself, wallowing in defeat and discomfort while waddling back to the layers of my comforter. 

That’s when it hit me.

My eyes sprung open as I leaped out of the bed, walking towards the hall where Spencer’s bedroom was. I creeped keeping an eye out for him, knowing he could be home any moment. With agile and delicate footsteps, I snuck into Spencer’s room, waving hi to Casper, Spencer’s cat, that peered at me from his bookshelves filled with science fiction novels. 

I combed through his dresser, foraging for any pairs of socks. Although, there were only piles of sweater vests and his Doctor Who t-shirts that he wore to sleep. After a while of rummaging through his belongings, I finally found his sock drawer, only to find that not a single one matched. 

His drawer was up to the brim with an array of patterns from solid colors to one with zigzags and dinosaurs on them. 

For a 23 year old man, you wouldn’t think he’d still have dinosaurs on his socks.

I laughed to myself, pulling out an orange sock with penguins printed on them and the same dinosaur sock that I poked fun at. 

I wonder what patterns he has on his underwe- Nope, no, not going to think about that. That’s for a different time. 

I cringed at the thought, sliding on the mismatched pair of socks, smiling as I wiggled my toes, making the little penguins and dinosaurs dance harmoniously as I sat on his bed. 

I looked over at Casper, only for him to be staring at me as well. “What do you think Casper?” I looked down at my feet, referring to the socks, earning a small meow from Casper. 

“You know Casper, you seriously need to pee on at least 50% of Spencer’s socks so he can finally go out and buy some new on-”

I was cut off by a loud bang, making me yelp in surprise and tumble off of Spencer’s bed. While getting up, I saw a head of hair peep into the room. Turns out that head of hair was Spencer. 

“Hey, are you okay Y/N?’ 

Concern was evident in his tone, until his eyes landed on me and the attire I had on. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion until he noticed the mittens I had worn in my hands. He let out a chuckle shaking his head as Casper jumped off from his post, startling me also. 

“Do I wanna know?” Spencer asked, peering at me with a playful condescending smirk, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Oh shut up, you celery stick” I sneered. “You know for a germaphobe, you sure like to leave your clothes laying around” I declared, shooting him a judgemental glare, making the smirk on his face grow. 

He walked over to his bed, plopping himself down next to me as he placed his satchel on the floor. “I don’t wanna know the story Y/L/N. If it makes you feel any bet- Wait, is...are those my socks?” He glanced down at my feet, snickering as he noticed the dinosaurs and penguins. “So you’ve started stealing all my socks now”.

I let out a dissatisfied groan, shoving a throw pillow onto my face, not wanting to give Spencer the satisfaction of seeing embarrassment visible in my expression. 

“It’s kinda cute” He confessed, grabbing the pillow that I desperately hid my face in and tossing it aside. “Although, you do need to shave your cankles, it’s starting to look like mine” He teased, earning a swift knock to the head from me. 

“Shut up Spence” I sighed, letting my eyes close and letting Spencer’s covers engulf me. “How was your day anyway?” I questioned, turning to look at him. 

“Good...my application went through” He replied, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling as we lay in his bed sideways. 

“What went through?”

“My application to the BAU, I just got a call from one of the head agents, Aaron Hotchner and told me to be there Monday morning” He confessed. 

I jumped up in excitement, making the bed sway in different directions. “No fucking way Spence, really?” I shrieked, grabbing his arm and waving it around in excitement. He laughed at my childlike manner, sitting straight up to continue observing my reaction. 

“Do you know this means that we’re going to have to get you some regular socks now, right agent Spence?” I suggested.

“You know that’s never going to happen and it’s Doctor” He retorted

I sighed leaning my head onto his shoulder, watching Casper walk through the crack between the door and the doorframe. A half smile etched onto my lips as I thought about the many doors this opportunity opens up for Spencer. 

“Hey Spence?”

“Yeah”

“Are there dinosaurs and penguins on your underwear too?”