i went slightly overboard with the words

the thigh high club

pairing : yoongi x taehyung x jimin (I guess??)

genre : light smut. if you can call this light.

drabble/headcanon thing inspired by this post and my own tags bc i can’t not bring everything back to bangtan

  • yoongi knew it was an awful idea; this was a horrible idea that would end up with him getting kicked out of bangtan, off the face of the universe. he’d end up on a street corner, desperately trying to sell his mixtape as a fallen idol, laughed out of every underground club as he struggles to reclaim his status as Min Suga, lyrical genius
  • But Jimin couldn’t keep secrets from Taehyung, though he’d wanted to
  • And they were insistent, really insistent because apparently the only thing missing from that stupid maid’s outfit all that time ago had been stockings and, yeah, Yoongi was weak, and he’d be fucked if anyone would call him a coward
  • taehyung had caught him out when he was in a good mood, placid and sleepy from a hot drink jin had forced him to take down to the studio, pressing his hands into the tension of Yoongi’s shoulders and whispering the dreaded words - I triple dare you, Yoongi hyung
  • (Noted : Taehyung’s long, stupid spider legs could get him out of Yoongi’s slapping range pretty fast when they wanted to; Yoongi is as awfully co-ordinated as Namjoon when he’s more embarrassed than aggravated)
  • And whenever one half of the Taehyung-Jimin duo gets an idea, the other one is inevitably… there. Waiting for the right time to wear the newest victim down until they end up buying the things
  • He won’t call them what they actually are or admit that he went slightly overboard because the site was hosting a sale and there’d been a pair of suspenders with a pretty, strappy belt that makes him feel as delicate and breakable as Yoongi knows he can be if the time and the feeling is right
  • The package comes faster than he would have liked and somehow more slowly than he can bear because Yoongi can’t really decide if he’s completely platonically enjoying the torture of Jimin squeezing his waist every now and again as he passes, gently pinching his hyung’s hips with a beatific grin
  • Taehyung staring in that way of his, like he can see right down to Yoongi’s soul when they catch eyes in the dance studio’s mirror, or if he hates the fact that there’s a blush swooping over his neck and across his cheeks
  • (yoongi also wonders if it’s weird for this to be his penalty for picking the last option when the boys roped him into a game of truth or dare, and if he can honestly call the way his spine tingles when Jimin casually throws out the words, “tonight, yoongi hyung” as he passes him on his way to do something or other that Jin wouldn’t approve of platonic.
  • But then he feels a twitch in a place he honestly doesn’t need to be getting twitches because Taehyung winked at him, like the slimy little shit he is, and so, he stops trying to think about that at all)
  • (“hm? what’s going on tonight?”)
  • (“oh, nothing, Jungkookie-”)
  • (“but Jimin said…hey, hyung, can I come with yo-” “oh my god, no, Jungkook, jesus fucking christ -”
  • (“I won’t tell Jin if you let me come.”)
  • (“This is grown up stuff, you absolute fucking baby.”)
  • He’s oddly calm when the time for The Dare to be fulfilled comes - the words feel like they need to be capitalised at this point - and Yoongi managed to convince Jin that twenty was old enough to let Jungkook in the room for a rare night of soju (one shot for the maknae line and three at a generous push for the elders) and horror movies
  • He swore on his leather jacket and favourite pen that he wouldn’t pretend to be asleep if Hobi got sick on the sofa, though it was a little redundant to bring it up because it had been once and Yoongi really hadn’t been sure if the retching sounds had been part of his half-waking dream or not
  • all  of that falls way beside the point when he manages to prise Hoseok’s clammy hand from around his, back slowly out of the room and tip toe down the hall to his room
  • they agreed that Taehyung would be the last to come into the room, fifteen minutes after Jimin would make his own excuses, exactly ten minutes after Yoongi slipped away, so it’s not as if there’s any real reason for Yoongi’s hands to be trembling
  • that doesn’t make a difference, of course, he still makes too much noise trying to open the packet as quietly as is humanly possible and ends up ripping the pretty white paper down the middle, tossing the crumpled lilac paper packet and a bite-sized floral thank you for purchasing! card to the floor with a huff
  • Jungkook’s borrowed tracksuit bottoms join them moments after, the kid’s boxers too because Yoongi’s pretty sure they won’t match at all. not that it’s important that he looks good but, you know, if he’s going to lose then he may as well lose in style
  • the stockings are softer than anything he’s ever touched, a tender shade of sheer pink, the tops a slightly darker, shinier shade, stretchy and good quality, if his finger tips aren’t betraying him and the belt is soft lilac, as pale as the colour can be without being white. it’s all delicate gauzy fabric and teensy, perfect ribbons at the top of each suspender, no bigger than his littlest fingernail
  • Yoongi thinks he might have fallen in love with two pieces of lingerie, but it’s logical to when they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen
  • he’s so careful not to tear them or yank too hard, pulling each stocking up as high as they’ll go which is incidentally, just far enough up his legs to connect the fiddly suspender hooks and it’s in that moment that Yoongi decides he hates suspenders more than anything else in this world, even early mornings
  • it’s also in that moment that Yoongi realises his second biggest mistake. he’s standing in front of his shared room’s full length mirror, the one Jin insisted they buy second hand, gripping his hands behind his back to hide the shaking from his own eyes
  • He turns once, tugging up his t shirt and sliding a finger between the top of the belt and snapping it against the small of his back, twists to the side to let himself admire for a single breath how snugly they fit against his waist, accentuating the outline of his hips
  • Then, he realises that he forgot to buy panties, and his cock is quite literally there in front of him and even if it’s possible that Namjoon, the pervert that he is, has something appropriate stashed in his drawer there’s no time left for him to do anything about it, so all Yoongi can think of is panicking
  • And it’s then that the door opens with a low, breathy creak and Jimin’s trademark signature giggle, crushed up between the sound of Tehyung urgently shushing him enter the room, followed by their owners and everything - everyone - freezes.
  • Yoongi holds his breath deliberately to stop himself from cursing their asses to the seventh circle of hell and demanding that they leave or stop staring like a pair of fucking morons who have never seen a guy in stockings and suspenders before, or tell them that they’ve got what they wanted so why don’t they take a picture or something?
  • He hasn’t turned around fully, doesn’t try to, but it’s somehow worse to watch Taehyung slowly push the door shut, one hand hooked onto the back of Jimin’s jumper, and meet their eyes only in the mirror, watch them take him in without a word spoken aloud
  • The first one to speak is Jimin and his voice is so quiet it barely breaks the hush and the background of chatter from just down the hall - “I can’t believe you actually did it, hyung, I - we thought - ”
  • “ - that you wouldn’t actually do it.” Taehyung’s voice is deep, breathy, sets off a flicker of apprehension in Yoongi’s stomach
  • And he’s right to feel nervous, completely justified to mock-whisper I’m going to die when Jimin fumbles to get his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, clutching it between his hands, even though he knows because this was the part of the agreement that had him inches away from backing out - one picture.
  • “I haven’t even got anything on, this is just - isn’t this enough?”
  • Tae laughs at him, cutting it off into a snort when Yoongi turns around fully, hands firmly placed over his cock, shoulders hunched in on themselves and fixes him with a glare
  • They get him on Jin’s bed, push him down firmly to sit on the edge and Yoongi keeps his eyes on the way Jimin’s teeth worry at his bottom lip as he raises his phone, mirrors the action as the camera clicks 
  • But apparently, they’re not done, because the moment Yoongi exhales in relief Taehyung is across the room, too close for comfort when he’s this…exposed
  • “One more, hyung, please? Just one?”
  • Yoongi raises his hand to slap his stomach, pinch the bare skin of Tae’s thigh (those red shorts are short enough to be a porn-star costume at this point, but Yoongi wasn’t going to be the one to get rid of them)
  • Yoongi is justified in punching them both for even thinking of asking for more when he’s in nothing but a black t shirt and some skimpy underwear, risking his career for misplaced grade-school honour
  • But then Jimin’s at his other side, clambering onto the bed and all of Yoongi’s words magically dissipate
  • As does his ability to exert any kind of authority, because Jimin’s hands are ridiculously soft and so little against Yoongi’s hip, but his nails are sharp enough to hurt in the way he loves
  • And Taehyung’s hands cover the entirety of Yoongi’s right thigh, engulf Jimin’s as they collide over Yoongi’s stomach, both of them just rushed enough for it to be amusing
  • And Jin’s covers smell good, clean and fresh, so it’s not like it’s a chore for Yoongi to let himself be pushed onto his back, let Taehyung tug and snap the suspender cords with curious fingers to the backtrack of one, two, three clicks in succession
  • He even makes sure to mumble the order to delete everything afterwards against both of their mouths when they try to kiss him at once, and Yoongi just has to have faith that they hear him over the sound of them both telling him that he looks absolutely fucking beautiful
  • They might be stupid, especially when they’re together, but Yoongi knows they’re not dumb - and they teach him within fifteen minutes behind a door Jimin is quick to shove a chair under that they can both be really, really smart with their mouths.

anonymous asked:

Can u do a one shot where is the next day of school where they come back from the ski lodge, and Riley and Lucas acting all cute now that they are finally dating.

Okay so it’s super fluffy, super cheesy, but I don’t really care cause I like it so I hope you like it too, anon! lol 

“Look at them,” Maya grumbled, scrunching up her nose in disgust and slamming her locker door. “I wish I had smoothies to pour on both their heads!”

Maya and Zay leaned against their lockers, watching Riley and Lucas smile at each other like they were the only two people left on the planet, from across the hallway.

“Is this what it’s always gonna be like? The cheesy smiles and googly eyes?” Zay whined, pulling his English textbook from his locker and shutting his door much more quietly than Maya just had. “Cause I did not sign up for googly eyes.”

Riley’s eyes lit up as Lucas gently slipped the books she was holding out of her hands and underneath his own books. Their finger tips grazed one another as he did so, and Riley swore she felt a spark of electricity shock her skin at the touch. 

“Lucas, I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own books to class,” Riley informed him, stepping forward to snatch the books from him. 

“Yeah, but I’m your boyfriend now, isn’t that what boyfriends do?” Lucas smirked, dodging her grasping hands by taking a step backwards. 

“Yeah, maybe in 1955,” Riley joked. “Besides, the classroom is like two feet away.”

“Riley Matthews, I am carrying your books and that’s final,” Lucas asserted, standing up straight to look as confident and convincing as possible. “Don’t try to stop me. I will fight you.”

“Yeah and I’d win,” Riley challenged, holding her arms out to the side as if to say, ‘let’s go, Friar!’ 

“Enough, already!” Maya protested, moving her hands up to her face to shield her eyes from the couple as she passed them at their lockers. “We get it - you’re together, you’re adorable, you like to practice prehistoric dating rituals, blah, blah, blah!”

Riley took a step closer to her best friend and placed two hands on either side of her face, squeezing her cheeks slightly so that Maya’s lips puckered just the tiniest bit. 

“Maya, is someone a grumpy Gus this morning?” Riley asked, and May glared at her in response. 

“Riles, I love ya, I really do,” Maya mumbled, her words barely audible as Riley squeezed her cheeks together. “But your happy is making me sick-y.”

Riley quickly dropped her hands and smiled guiltily, like she knew she had went too far. 

“Sorry,” Riley grimaced, like she had just scraped her arm and was reeling from the pain. “We went overboard with the cutesy, didn’t we?”

“Let me put it this way,” Maya massaged her cheeks, as they turned to walk into their Spanish classroom. “It was your fantasy movie scenario, only twelve times worse cause it was real.” 

“We’ll dial it back,” Riley promised. “No problem.”

Lucas quickly hopped around Riley and Maya to open the door to the classroom.

“Right this way Madame,” Lucas gestured for Riley to enter the classroom with his free hand, his voice emitting the most terrible British accent Riley had ever heard. “Your classroom awaits.”

“Oh yay! It’s your fancy British guy, Mortimer!” Riley cheered, her smile beaming from ear to ear. “I love him.”

“Please let me get through this day,” Maya muttered under breath, moving past Riley and Lucas with her head ducked down. “Please, please, please.”

Riley gently took either side of her dress in her hands and bent her legs to perform the most awkward curtsey that Lucas had ever seen. 

“Why thank you Mortimer,” Riley said in an attempt to match his British accent. 

“You’re quite welcome British Riley,” Lucas smiled as she slipped past him to stand on the other side of the doorframe. “Hey, I’ll meet you at your locker after class, okay?” 

“Lucas, seriously, you don’t have to do all this,” Riley explained to him. “Carry my books, walk me to class – it’s really not necessary.”

“Riley, do you know how long I’ve waited to do this kind of stuff with you?” Lucas smiled, and he noticed that her eyes lit up just the slightest bit. “I know that couples don’t always do this kind of stuff anymore. And I promise that it’ll probably die down in like a week. But for now - do you mind if I carry your books and walk you to class from time to time?” 

“I’d like that very much,” Riley quickly placed a hand on top of Lucas’ before turning around to head to her seat.“Ta, ta Mortimer!” 

As Riley took the few short steps to reach her desk, she met Maya’s glaring stare and sunk down into her seat. 

“That was the opposite of dialing it back, wasn’t it?” Riley panicked, afraid that she had gone too far again. Maya met Riley’s worried expression, and smiled softly at her. 

“Riles,” Maya began, taking her best friend’s hand in hers. “You’re happy. Happy in a ‘makes me wanna puke my guts out’ kind of way. But it’s worth it to see you guys finally acting like a real couple. You’re happy, so I’m happy. So continue on with your gushy couple-y bliss. I’ll be over here trying my best not to vomit at the sight of it all.” 

“You’re the best, Maya,” Riley beamed, inching closer to Maya and slowly extending her arms. Maya immediately shook her head in protest. 

“Hey, I didn’t say the gushy cutesy stuff could transfer over to me!” 

“Give me a hug!” Riley threw her arms out to the side and leaned over the desk to hug her best friend.

“No!” Maya fought Riley off, and leaned around her to shout into the hallway. “Lucas, your girlfriend’s a freak!” 

Lucas, who was heading up the stairs, stopped in his tracks to look back into the classroom. He couldn’t help but smile at Maya’s use of the words, “your girlfriend” in reference to Riley. He had waited so long to hear that. And now that he had, he didn’t want it to ever stop.