SCHOOL F*CKING SUCKS! | YANDERE!BTS

SNACKTIME

WARNINGS. blackmail. noncon kissing. mentions of smut.

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taehyung gives his overdramatic salute to jimin's direction, staying in place for a few seconds. then, after he goes to lean out the door, glancing right and left,  he closes the storage room shut with a small click. "class president!!" he's in front of you now, getting down on one knee and presenting the tasty food like a diamond ring. "i've got snacks, for you." he emphasizes the last two words with closed eyes and kissy noises.

there he goes again, displaying the goofy, flirty side to him, hiding his true self. you remind yourself not to be tricked. "i-i don't need it, and it's not like i want to eat with you when you chew so loudly. it was painful to watch that interaction between you and jimin," you say, backing away and turning to the shelves, "if you're really here to help, then let's get this done as quickly as possible."

he gets up with a vexing whine. "but class president, i bet you haven't had anything for lunch yet. don't you at least want some bread?"

it's true; you're so used to preparing your lunch in the early hours of the morning that you only pack enough money for a single package. your stomach threatens to growl as a response to his comment, but you stay stubborn, shaking your head. "no," you reach for two flasks and load them onto the cart, muttering out a small, "thank you..."

predictably, taehyung just stands there, watching to count the equipment even though he said that he would help. you glare at him with a side eye and look back at the containers, beginning to remind him of his promise, but he talks first.

"for what, class president?"

you almost jump away when you feel him suddenly press himself against your back. the bag of snack is dropped to the floor and the supply in your hand threatens to do the same, but he catches it in time and carelessly tosses it on the shelf. he uses the opportunity to trap you with his long arms, his right hand holding the wooden furniture while his left finds your waist. your skin tingles with the muscle memory from his touch.

he leans to talk over your shoulder, to which you stare straight with silent breath, "for the snacks, or the project?"

your ego takes a punch when he mentions the perfect poster. it's not long before it shatters to pieces.

"or... for last night?"

"s-stop!" your hands attempt to shove his fingers off you, but they don't let go. it makes him grab onto both sides of your waist and pull you close. your struggle has him tightening his hold, earning pained scowl on your face, though it was already evident when he mentioned yesterday. "let me go, taehyung!" he takes a couple elbows to his ribs, but he doesn't bother restraining you too much. instead, he chooses to talk.

"class president, have you forgotten that my threat still stands?"

you immediately stop. his blackmail, his merciless tone, you thought it would be over, like a hellish one hour exam. "... you... you wouldn't..." you wish you never spoke. you think-- no, you know you can't take his answer.

"wouldn't what? wouldn't use the system to drop you from the first quartile, wouldn't do it to see you begging to be fucked every time i wanted?" his voice gets low, as if the walls can hear his secrets, "because you're wrong, class president. so cute, but so wrong... i would never pass a chance to see you the way you were last night: a dirty slut for me."

he's horrible. not because he hides his sadistic thirsts from others, but because he shows it proudly to you. he's horrible for turning you around and tilting your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes with tears threatening to fall once more. "awe, don't cry, class president," he pouts as he wipes his thumb against your wet under eye, "don't tell me that you didn't like what i did to you. if i remember correctly, you were drooling all over the place."

you furrow your brows and look down. he's horrible for bringing up his control over your body, horrible for shoving it in your face with a shit-eating grin. he's even worse for holding your nape and pulling you in for a kiss, when you're supposed to be delivering the cart and fulfilling jimin's duty. but despite your weak pushes and your slight scuffle, taehyung kisses you harder, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and slipping it into your mouth. it feels so weird, even weirder when his hand snakes up your skirt and gropes you. he smirks against your lips when you do nothing but helplessly clutch his uniform sleeves and let him take your breath away.

taehyung tells you that he won't try anything for now, that he's kind enough to give you a little break. he tells you that you ought to reward him. as his little class president, the least you can do is ride him when his legs are sore from baseball practice, and it happens a week from today.