#fic: maybe i do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chateautae · 2 years

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maybe i do: “one-year anniversary” | kth. (m)

➵ summary: celebrating an unforgettable year married to your dreamy husband, your anniversary could have never been sweeter.

↳ part of the maybe i do series!

this drabble can be read as a stand alone, but it is highly recommended to read the series!

➵ pairing: ceo!taehyung x wife!reader

➵ genre: arranged marriage!au, established relationship!au, fluff, smut

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 10k

➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption (both parties are able to consent), tooth-rotting fluff 🥺, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, BDSM, D/s relationship, dom!tae, sub!reader, big dicc!tae, pussy fondling, use of wine (😏), breast play, choking, leather cuffs, suspension, use of a riding crop, pain kink, pussy slapping, oral (f. receiving), cum-eating, passionate/rough sex, nasty sex, impregnation kink, creampie <3

➵ a/n: WOOP WOOP here are the mid babies celebrating their one-year!! hopefully it’s as fluffy and dirty as you thought it would be <33 thank you endlessly to my wife @amourtae for beta-ing!!! i hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated!

Taehyung forgot your anniversary.

You know he did, and in a way where it’s blatantly obvious. It doesn’t even appear as though it’s an Oscar’s worthy performance despite the impeccable actor Taehyung can be, either. The date genuinely seems to have slipped your husband’s mind.

You granted him mercy with the midnight wish considering you called it a night earlier than him, and Taehyung was still occupied tending to crucial company business—much to your dismay.

You awoke the next morning deciding to attack him with cuddles, kisses and a delightful one year's wish, proceeding to give him a God-tier blowjob. But, all you’d woken up to was the empty side of his bed. You found him already looping his tie in your walk-in closet, dressed head-to-toe. He ventured back into your room as he cuffed his sleeve, brows furrowed observing you.

You hated that he looked sexy while doing it.

“Finally awake, Princess?” It was meant to be a tease, but you pouted like a grumpy child, stomping your way towards the bathroom.

Breakfast, your morning drive, even Taehyuung dropping you off at your office all progressed with him being completely nonchalant—he only spoke business.

“So, how’s the progression with your team been?” Taehyung swiftly slid his hand along the steering wheel of his car, his eyes on the road as he queried. His other hand cradled your thigh, lightly gripping you for an answer.

“Good,” you impassively responded, arms crossed as you surveyed the streets.

“Just good?”

“Yup.”

Your husband shot a quick glimpse at your side profile, single-handedly managing the wheel. You could perceive the movement from your peripheral vision—did he really have to look so sexy driving? And have a hand squeezing your thigh, too?

He only made your distraught farce more insufferable.

“I’ve been making significant progress with the asset transfer, Princess. I just need to hold a board of directors meeting to finalize things, so I’ll need your team ready for organization prep next, babe.” He stroked your thigh for good measure, peeking at his side-view mirror for another lane switch.

Acknowledging this was the business side of your relationship, you decided to cooperate, sighing. “Of course, Tae. We’ll be ready when you are, Sejeong’s already collected our drafts.”

Even as he passed by you during the workday, he’d only momentarily peer up from some papers or his phone to send you a tight-lipped smile or a nod of acknowledgement.

Lunch was even more frustrating.

You picked at your food as you stared him down—hard. It was pointless, however, because Taehyung is the master of intimidating stares, and yours was entirely harmless. Your husband remained unbothered as he chewed his kimbap, scrolling through his phone.

Even configuring a sneaky way to visit his office, you hoped to earn some alone time with him. You left disappointed, though, because all the intoxicatingly-professional man did was talk business with you—again—instruct some fixes to your work, and ordered you out of the room after a mere 15 minutes; even requesting that you inform Mrs. Lee about a photocopy pick-up.

You were going to murder him.

“Mrs. Lee, what in God’s name is wrong with him?!” You angrily ask her once you vacated Taehyung’s office, hands smacking onto her table. You startle the poor woman, who clears her throat and fixes her glasses.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kim. What’s wrong with whom?”

“My asshole of a husband!!”

Nearly choking, Mrs. Lee struggles to respond. “M-Mr. Kim?”

“Yes, what is wrong with him today? Has he not mentioned to you that it’s our one-year anniversary? He’s acting like it doesn’t even exist, how could he forget?!”

Pulling her lips back guiltily, Mrs. Lee peers at you sympathetically. “I’m afraid Mr. Kim didn’t mention anything to me, Mrs. Kim.”

“What the-” Noting you’re in a professional setting, you censor your curse word. “He seriously didn’t tell you to make any special plans? Or arrange something? Not even flowers?”

With a tight-lipped smile, Mrs. Lee shakes her head.

Feeling a twinge in your chest, your expression falls. “But... he always gets me flowers…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he didn’t tell me to reserve anything for your anniversary.” Mrs. Lee explains softly.

Defeated, you sigh. You hate that you become emotional, trying to convince yourself that a date isn’t all that important.

Technically, your relationship’s anniversary is ambiguous. Your wedding anniversary doesn’t always count as your real one considering you two didn’t become an official couple until nearly half a year later. But you both promised that your wedding day would be your anniversary—it was special.

The vow you two crafted together was unforgettable, having surfaced during the night you both made love in Paris.

Blinking away tears, you sniffle, composing yourself for the kind secretary. “Thank you for letting me know, Mrs. Lee. I’m done for the day so... let my husband know that I left.”

Sweet as ever, Mrs. Lee smiles, even a little pitifully. “I shall, Mrs. Kim. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” You painfully grin, forcing happiness upon your face before you vacate the floor of Taehyung’s office, and soon his building.

Your heart weighed a ton each step you took.

Your driver drops you off at the front of your home, bidding him a weak farewell. You lug yourself to your entrance despondently, a subtle ache piercing your chest. Standing on your porch now, you exhale deeply as emotion overcomes you.

Taehyung really did forget your anniversary, huh? Or at least, it wasn’t something important to him. Perhaps he thinks your wedding anniversary doesn’t count? Nothing hurts more when you consider that morose fact, weakly clutching the knob of your front door.

You enter your home unenthusiastically, swallowing down the thickness in your throat. It shouldn’t be his fault, should it? Your husband is a busy man; he manages more than just a typical CEO. He’s the Chairman of the board of directors, actively plays a role in nearly all of his subsidiaries and meticulously overlooks work to ensure it’s up to standard.

He isn’t to blame if he’s forgotten.

Perhaps you should’ve said something this morning. Perhaps you should’ve clarified that your wedding anniversary should be your real anniversary, too?

Or perhaps, you’re the hopeless one for thinking it’s of any real significance.

Your chest feels tight as you remove your heels, deciding that today would be for self-care. Nothing besides a warm bath and sulking by yourself would help heal your broken heart, unsure of when Taehyung was going to arrive home, anyway.

Mopping, you trudge into the main area, disappointment your new company. However, sniffling as you wiped your lash line, you suddenly stop when you’re greeted by an unusual sight.

Before you lies dozens… dozens of bouquets of peonies scattered around the open floor plan of your home. The kitchen, the dining table, the couches, the coffee table, the drawers, atop your vanity of photos—they’re all decorated with vases of elegant peonies.

Stunned, you’re unable to move, observing the sights of numerous pink flowers in every direction you turn. These were not here when you were home earlier this morning with Taehyung.

Upon further inspection and picking your jaw up from the floor, you find a folded card atop the kitchen counter, paddling your way over. It’s inscribed with professionally written calligraphy that causes your chest to burst, reading it closely.

Princess.

Sheepish, you unfold the card with a stupid grin; you knew your sweet husband was secretly scheming. There was no way Taehyung could ever forget your anniversary.

You begin reading the card with a full heart, even giggling.

Dear Mrs. Kim,

I hope the strong scent of peonies hasn’t driven you insane yet.

You snicker to yourself, how was he always so funny?

You may have been wondering about my anniversary wish all day, haven’t you? I may have made you upset or angry, and I’m sorry, Princess, but I decided to act as though I had forgotten to make my surprise more meaningful.

Always so polite, kind and thoughtful—gentlemanly. Taehyung truly was your Prince Charming.

Before you, you will find hundreds of peonies; a peony for each day I have known you. It may seem a little over-the-top, but I believe you deserve nothing less, angel. If you look closely, you will find that each flower has a tag attached to the stem—each with something written upon it. These tags represent my favourite memories I have made with you, and the things I love most about you—things I will continue to cherish for the eternity I wish to spend with you. I hope next year I can give you double as many peonies, and triple, and quadruple and so on, because no amount of them in the world could ever compare to my love for you. I hope you can forgive me for my actions today. Never in a million years could I ever forget my favourite day in the world—the day I married my Princess. Please take the time to browse each bouquet and read my favourite memories and things about you.

I have a full evening planned for us. I’ll be home soon to sweep you off your feet and smother you in cuddles and kisses, pretty girl. Wait for me <3

Irrevocably yours, T.

Tears prick your eyes, and you cup your palm over your mouth as you admire his impeccable handwriting—he truly did have the printing of a CEO, neat and professional.

What struck you the most was his idea with the bouquets, slowly making your way towards the one closest to you. You read the larger tag hanging around the flowers.

January

You lightly gasp; each bouquet represents a month in the year, and from nearly every flower hangs a little tag with something he’s written. Your chest blossoms with unprecedented happiness, when did Taehyung even have the time to do this?

The hundreds of peonies is already shocking you, but the dedication in him writing each card by hand? You couldn’t wait to attack Taehyung with endless hugs and kisses, your heart whimsically waltzing inside your chest.

You were over the moon knowing he’d be home soon, and carefully picked up a tag to read with excitement.

When I scared you on the Ferris wheel, and we kissed.

Your cheeks warm remembering your sweet, yet steamy first date. You’d climbed his lap and made out with him after he pulled you close on the ferris wheel—you couldn’t believe how bold you were then.

You sheepishly sift through more tags in the January bouquet.

When snowflakes fall in your hair.

When I called you Princess for the first time.

When we thought you were pregnant in New Zealand, and you cried in my arms.

Emotion catches the back of your throat, reading through the sweetest of things about you he deems his favourite, along with your endearing memories. The way you sleep like a baby, the scent of your hair, the way you hide behind your hands when you’re flustered. The first time you made love, your trip to Greece, your first time you were ever his true submissive.

There’s truly no doubt about how much Taehyung loves you, huh?

When you’re reading through more tags in the March bouquet, you suddenly hear the front door of your home opened, and soon your one and only rich, baritone voice.

“Princess, I’m home! Please don’t tell me you hate me right now!”

Abandoning all your things, you scurry over to Taehyung, practically squealing as you do. Just as your husband removes his shoes and looks up to the sound of your footsteps, you launch yourself at him.

“Hey, babe–woah!”

Taehyung swiftly catches you as you swing your arms around his neck, squeezing the life out of him. “Goddamn you, Kim Taehyung. I love you I love you I love you!” You repeatedly sing-song, squishing your face into his chest. You feel the rumble of Taehyung’s warm chuckle, soon his benign hands curling around your waist.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He says, firmly squeezing you in his embrace. “Happy one-year anniversary, my Princess.”

Taehyung kisses your hair deeply, and you relish in his tender affection, his rich cologne. Feeling your heart burst with colours, you pull back and peer up at him. “Taehyung…” you whimper, unable to keep your happiness contained.

He cracks a gorgeous, fond smile. “What is it, Princess?”

“You… you did all this… for me?” You look towards the stunning peonies, and back at him, tears glistening in your eyes. All Taehyung can do is grin happily, his hands settling on your cheeks to cradle your face.

“Of course I did, baby. There’s no way I couldn’t make our anniversary special.”

“But… you’ve been so busy lately. You even had an important meeting with an overseas shareholder tonight.” You speak through a pout, recalling his chaotic schedule. “There’s so much on your plate and this must’ve taken time-”

“Jagiya, it’s okay.” Taehyung soothes you as he giggles, his fingers carding through your hair. “Never in a millions years would I not make time for you and our anniversary. I’d even cancel a meeting with the Prime Minister for you.”

Cracking a small laugh, you’re still struck with emotion. “I-I thought you forgot… I thought it wasn’t important to you-“

“Hey, Princess.” Taehyung’s thumbs stroke your cheeks, his sweet eyes calling your attention. He softens once when he sees that you were truly affected by his absent wish today. “Our wedding anniversary will always be important to me, Y/N. How could I forget the day you became my wife?”

He dips down and kisses your lips softly, his mouth perfectly molding to yours. He continues to lay a series of precious pecks until you’re a teary-eyed puddle of mush.

“Whatever.” You puff your cheeks, folding your arms with a sniffle. “You made me so upset today. I thought you forgot and I almost cried.”

Taehyung softly chuckles, endeared by your cute face. “Ah, did my baby get sad?”

Annoyed by his teasing, you angrily pout your lips; and Taehyung’s too stupidly in love with their cute plush. “Of course I did! You were a huge meanie ignoring me and acting like our anniversary didn’t exist. How could you do that to me?”

You hmph as you avert your eyes, knowing within your heart that his hundreds of peonies have already earned him your forgiveness, but you adore when he adores you.

“Awh, look at my baby~” Taehyung coos, squishing your cheeks together in his palms. You whine as he makes little kissy faces, and Taehyung can only laugh.

He babbles at you some more until you become fed up, smacking his chest. “Taehyung!”

“Alright! I’m sorry, Princess. You know I just like playing around.”

You scoff. “Please, did you not even tell Mrs. Lee? I really almost cried in front of her when she told me you didn’t tell her about our anniversary.”

Taehyung raises his brows then, contorting his lips with impression. “Wow, I don’t know if I should give Mrs. Lee a raise or be concerned.”

“Why?”

“She’s an amazing liar. She’s been helping me arrange our anniversary plans for over a month.”

Choking on your saliva, you have to hit your chest just to breathe. “A-a month? What in God’s name required a whole month’s preparation?”

Instead of answering you, Taehyung mischievously smirks and leans down for a kiss, indulging you with a sensual lip lock. When he pulls away, he seductively runs his thumb over your bottom lip, his irises turning a darker shade.

“Trust me, Y/N, you have no clue what I have prepared for you.”

Registering his statement and seeing that one gleam in his eyes, you feel your panties dampen. You know your husband like the back of your hand, and you’re certain you’ll feel him for the next week after he’s done with you tonight.

Swallowing, your hands curl up against his broad chest decked out in an Armani suit. God, he’s been so committed to working out lately, too. You’ve noticed how much tighter his dress shirts look, not to mention his delectable biceps.

His frame feels deliciously thick underneath your hands right now, and when you don’t make a peep, Taehyung tucks a hand around the junction of your waist, pulling you into his chest.

Squeaking, you gulp when you find his deep, insatiable eyes above you—you’re truly a goner, aren’t you? “O-okay.” You meekly reply.

Taehyung softly chuckles, his eyes suddenly returning to their sweet coffee brown. His duality seriously gives you whiplash.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.” He pecks your lips gently before intertwining his hands with yours. “Now come on, I’ve got your outfit prepared for you too.”

With widened eyes, you profusely question him on what exorbitant price he paid for your most likely expensive outfit, but Taehyung merely hushes you the entire way upstairs; either with his finger or his beautiful, luscious lips.

“Taehyung, where are you taking me?!”

“You have to see!”

After a helicopter ride to Jeju Island, Taehyung had taken you out for a wonderful dinner at his favourite restaurant. He’d of course rented out the place, and transported the pair of you into your own little world. Later, you enjoyed a stunning walk through a botanical garden show Taehyung specifically staged for you, and he even treated you to your favourite dessert on the beach afterwards.

The best part, however, was when he took you out on the water, and he recreated your favourite scene from your favourite movie; Tangled.

Upon the water in a canoe, he brought along pretty lanterns and asked you to make a wish with him. You nearly cried as he lit your lanterns, lifting them with the vow to spend an eternity together. His kiss to you brimmed with unconditional love, his warm lips a sweet reminder of your own magical fairytale.

Now, Taehyung has flown you back to Seoul, where he requested that for this portion, you’re to be blindfolded. You berated him at first for already keeping you in the dark about today, and now he’d quite literally be doing that.

Nonetheless, after his cute whining, you gave in. He revealed a satin black blindfold and concealed your eyes. He also didn’t miss the chance to kiss you or promiscuously run his hands all over your body for harmless teasing; your underwear was already soaking wet.

Taehyung continues to usher you towards an unknown location. He’d parked the car and tugged you out, leading you towards a mysterious destination.

“Kim Taehyung, if you don’t tell me where we are this instant, I won’t suck your dick all night!”

Taehyung scoffs. “Please, you know I like giving pleasure more than receiving it, Princess.”

Grunting with frustration, you rapidly turn around and attempt to tackle him, coming at him like a wily fox. But of course, Taehyung’s upper hand of actual sight does you in, and he snatches you up instantly.

Both your giggles fill the air as he lifts you off the ground, especially when your scheming husband decides to tickle your sides. “Taehyung, wait! You know I’m ticklish there!”

“Too bad, I like hearing your laughs!”

And Taehyung continues to torture you all while you cackle at his nimble fingers. Your attempts to stop him barely manage, your husband’s strength trumping yours.

When you feel the pair of you ascending stairs, you finally speak up. “Okay, Tae, c’mon!”

Without a word, Taehyung stops. You feel him intertwine his hand with yours and lead you up the stairs you sensed. When you reach the top, you open your mouth to question your husband, but instead, feel his slender fingers unravel your blindfold, and finally behold the sight before you.

Your eyes soften into puddles of tears, holding your hands over your mouth in shock. You don’t speak at first, you can’t speak, turning towards him as you sniffle.

“Taehyung… you didn’t.”

Biting his lip to contain a smile, his cheeks puff like bread. “I wanted to, Princess.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, your tears won’t stop, recalling the memories that lied within this beautifully tragic place. “I can’t believe you brought us here… our old wedding venue.”

Unable to hold back his grin anymore, Taehyung grows sheepish, approaching you to cup your arms from behind. He peers down at you lovingly, rubbing your bare arms that have become cold. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I… I have no words, Taehyung. This place… it’s…” Your ability to speak is immediately butchered, your mind a mess of flashbacks. “A year ago… today, we were here. We were here… and we didn’t know what was going to happen.”

Endeared, Taehyung softly curls his arms around you, embracing you tightly from behind. He rests the side of his chin against your hair as you melt into his big, warm arms. He kisses you, the entangled pair of you watching the closed, vacated location together—the chateau style hall is still to die for.

Nostalgia overcomes you, feeling the familiar vibration of Taehyung’s voice when he speaks. “A whole year… I can’t believe everything that’s happened to us in a year.” He muses. “I can’t believe I thought I lost my chance at love when I married you.”

Sniffling, you can’t contain the fierce emotion within you. You remember it like it was yesterday. You truly believed yourself to have been doomed; doomed to a loveless marriage, doomed to dwell around a man you could never open your heart to, to live a life you would irreparably despise.

But now, you’re eternally grateful you harboured the courage to step onto that altar and take Taehyung’s hand in marriage. It was the best decision you could’ve ever made. “Me neither. Our first year together has been… something.”

You both chuckle together recalling all the ups and downs. Your time together truly has been remarkable. “But, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, Tae. I’m just… I remember…” You choke up on your words, chest flooding of an indescribable wave of emotion. Happiness, gratitude, joy— they were causing excessive tears to spill from you, soon sniveling like a child.

Taehyung immediately panics behind you, unraveling his arms. “Princess, are you crying?” He turns you around, soft hands cradling your cheeks as he searches your eyes—you were covering them with your hands. “Baby, oh my god, are you really crying? My Princess~”

Your husband’s caramel voice soothes you as he draws you into his arms, engulfing you tightly. He caresses your hair as he showers you in tender kisses, squeezing you as you sob. “Y/N, why are you crying? You know it breaks my heart when you cry.”

Sniffling, you compose yourself enough to speak. “I’m-I’m sorry, I just… I’m happy, Tae. I’m really, really happy.” You take your time to catch your breaths, emotion freely flowing from you. Taehyung reaches inside his suit jacket to offer you a handkerchief, and you nab it to clean away your tears, strengthening your voice. “I’m just… really happy we took that step. That we decided to give each other a chance, even though we didn’t know anything, when we were both so unsure.”

Your husband lovingly gazes at you as you speak through precious sniffles, gently tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “You’re so precious.” He muses, smiling widely. “I’m happy too, Princess. Really happy.”

Peering up at him, you find Taehyung’s expression etched with the same appreciation as you. His eyes are glistening brightly under the starry sky, and you could feel his unwavering gratitude, his undying love.

Sniffling one last time, you embrace his torso and grip him desperately, your cheek resting against his chest. “Thank you, Tae… for letting me love you.”

Hesitant for only a moment, Taehyung’s arms soon encircle your figure; a palm against your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head. He squeezes you for dear life. “Thank you, Y/N… for letting me love you, too.”

Pulling back, you both gazed into each other’s eyes, and became lost in a world where only you and him exist. The tree leaves danced in the breeze tonight, the stars shimmered with a charming twinkle, their light flickering across the vast, night sky. It was chilly—the pleasant kind—yet all you could feel was Taehyung’s warmth; his treasurable, loving warmth.

Biting your lip, Taehyung leans down to connect your foreheads together, his nose cutely nudging yours. He leans his lips forward tentatively, teasing you with a kiss. Grinning sheepishly, you lean in and connect your mouths, engulfing each other in a whimsical, heart-stopping kiss.

Taehyung’s palms grip your waist as he deeply kisses you, his knee wedged between your legs. You moan as his hips drive yours into the front door behind you, pinned by the heft of your husband’s hardening cock.

“Mm..” he deeply groans, his tongue plentifully traversing the confines of your mouth. He tastes divine, like wine and peppermint and your insides stir for him, prying his mouth open with your explorative tongue.

Fingers clutching his suit, you break away just as he intensifies the kiss. You need air—sometimes your husband is so dreamy, you swear you transport to cloud nine. “Tae…”

“Princess…” he breathes back. He appears just as winded as you, his hot breath fanning your cheek. You peer up at his hungry eyes; they replicate the same desire you feel crawling at the bottom of your stomach. Panties soaked by another wave of your essence, you gently whimper for him.

Taehyung reads you instantly, diving back in. His large hands skim down your backside and grip your ass, causing you to jolt pleasurably in his arms. You feel him smile into the kiss, speaking between liplocks.

“You still make that noise whenever I grab your ass. Cute.”

Exhaling a laugh, you snip back. “Well, my ass does fit perfectly in your hands.”

Taehyung bares his teeth to bite your lower lip, pulling it back seductively. You moan when he does, watching him release it to watch the plushy bounce. “Guess we’re meant to be.”

“Meant to be, indeed.”

Smirking, your husband engulfs you in a swoon-worthy kiss, his greedy hands gliding down the back of your thighs. You leap into his arms, passionately kissing him as fire invades your veins. Taehyung shoves you back up against the front door, kicking off his shoes. Your heels dangled from your fingers as your arms rested around his neck, indulging in his wet muscle curling around inside your mouth.

Taehyung suddenly props you off the door and begins walking you inside your home, your shoes tossed from your hands. Your purse disappears too along with your shawl, both of you giggling as your husband reaches the end of the steps.

“Already getting naked, Princess?”

“Please, it’s always a naked affair wherever we’re concerned.”

Shaking his head, Taehyung chuckles. “You’re damn right.”

Once you’ve arrived on the second floor, Taehyung takes you in the opposite direction of your bedroom, and your eyebrows furrow, pulling away from your sloppy kiss. “Baby, where are you taking us?”

Biting his lip, Taehyung bounces his brows, his smile too mischievous for his own good. “Where am I taking you? I’m taking you there, pretty girl.”

Gasping upon realization, you grow giddy in his arms. “No way, you finally finished it?”

“Mm, you’ll see.” He teases you with a cute little peck before swallowing up your mouth. You excitedly accept him until he stops before a door at the very end of your hall, prying it open. It’s dark at first, though the minimal moonlight through the sheer curtains lights some of the concealed room.

Taehyung lays you down on the softest sheets you’ve ever felt, moaning as he crawls over your body. His kisses are sensual and yet, so powerful. You could feel your insides squirming for him, legs automatically wedging open as he slots himself in between, his masculine hands gripping the sheets either side of you.

Once he’s out of breath, Taehyung pulls away, peering into your dilated pupils with his own. He takes a moment to merely gaze at your body, scanning over your warm cheeks. “God, you are so fucking beautiful.”

Sheepish, you bite your lip. “The lights, Tae.”

Shooting you a smug side-grin, Taehyung sexily tongues the inside of his cheek, before speaking. “Lights.”

Suddenly, the entire room illuminates with warm lighting, and your breath is stolen from you. Taehyung had finally been able to complete the construction of your long-term project; your sex room.

“Tae… holy shit. It’s way better than I thought it would be.” You gush, peering around to find the sensually dim room a beautiful mix of deep reds, golds and blacks. The bed you rested upon was of crimson satin sheets, and small sex contraptions you both chose together decorate the intimate space. Drawers and storage areas indicate Taehyung had much more than what appears before you, and your pussy pulses inside your underwear.

Marvelling at your surroundings, you excitedly squeak. “Taehyung, this is so-” Just as you turn to address your husband, he attacks you with a much harsher, animalistic kiss. Agreeable sounds of pleasure escape your mouth then, accepting his passionate lips.

Taehyung’s warm hands begin travelling up your bare thighs, uncovering inch by inch your supple legs he adores. He kisses you greedily until your skirt pools at your abdomen, and you sigh into his mouth when his hand caresses your sex.

“Shit…” Taehyung breathes, his fingers feeling your wet panties. “You’re already this wet, Princess?”

“I’m always wet when I’m with you.” You seductively whisper, letting your finger trail underneath his chin.

Taehyung smirks, suddenly cupping your cunt through your underwear; the proudest of smiles graces his face when your breath hitches. “Such a good girl, always ready for me.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Maybe you’d be a good husband if you’d fuck me already.”

“Still so impatient, baby girl?”

“Only where my handsome husband is concerned.” You flash him a kittenish smile.

Scoffing a laugh, Taehyung eyes your lips as though they’re candy. “I’m not fucking you yet, pretty girl. I’m taking my time with you tonight.”

Brows raising, you tilt your head. “And what do you have planned for tonight, Mr. Kim?”

“You’ll see, Mrs. Kim.” Taehyung quickly pecks your lips before he stands up, offering his hands. You clasp onto them and follow him as he leads you towards an open area of the room. Gaining a better look around, you find a cushioned, red wall behind you, and above, a black metal rod.

Your curiosity piques.

“Tae, what’s this?” You innocently point towards the rod above, though when you peer at your husband, you find the exact opposite of innocence. Taehyung eyes you with a sort of carnal hunger that reaches into the center of your soul, igniting you.

With wide eyes, you question him. “Tae?”

He lightly tilts his head, observing you. Or rather, he’s checking you out, swiping the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip. “Did I tell you that you look sexy tonight?”

Laughing, you cross your arms. “A thousand times, baby. Now answer my question.”

Playing with his lip, you hate that he draws attention to them. Taehyung’s eyes were already dead set on spelling your doom, though his elusive behaviour right now was taking the cake. “Do you want some wine?”

“W-wine?” You stutter. “You want more wine?”

“The restaurant didn’t have my favourite one. I want us to try it.” Your husband requests, and you purse your lips, agreeing.

Smiling widely, Taehyung disappears into a second room you assume to be a sort of closet, and resurfaces with a bottle of wine and, surprisingly, only one glass.

You furrow your brows. “Why is there only one glass?”

Running his tongue inside his cheek again, Taehyung smiles devilishly. “I think you’re familiar with this, Princess.” Watching him carefully, Taehyung sets down the bottle and glass upon a night table. He pours out the luscious wine, returning to you.

He swirls the red liquid in its glass before he takes a long, tasteful sip, eyeing you the entire time. You hate that you watch the column of his throat down the liquid; sexy. Though on his last sip, Taehyung intakes the wine and surprisingly, approaches you.

His fingers gently wrap around your throat, grabbing it. His mouth is mere centimeters away from yours as he leans in, and now, you really are familiar with this. Smiling, you connect your lips for a sinful kiss, and Taehyung pushes the sweet wine into your mouth. You moan as the drink invades your, becoming lost in his mind-blowing kiss and his heavy tongue licking yours.

Pulling away, Taehyung swipes your bottom lip. “Good girl.”

Whipped, you close in for another kiss, but Taehyung stops you with his long index finger to your lips. “Nuh uh, the rules are different in this room, Princess.”

Narrowing your eyes, you frown. “Pardon me?”

Taehyung heartily laughs. “You’re forgetting I’m the Dom, baby girl. I’ve already let you get away with calling me things other than by my name and Mr. Kim.”

Scoffing at his inflated ego, you square up against him. “Oh really? And what if I called you ‘daddy’?” You fake-laugh at your own counter, but Taehyung doesn’t appreciate your joke at all. After setting down the wine glass, he decreases all space between you two, walking towards you with undeterred confidence.

Gulping, you step back as he draws closer, his eyes a deep shade of red. You squeak once your back hits the cushioned wall, and Taehyung crowds your space, his hands settling either side of your face. He leans down to level himself with you, his gaze the most intimidating, panty-dampening thing you’ve ever experienced.

“Tae…”

“You’re gonna listen to me, right, Princess?” He asks dominantly, his eyes switching between your eyes and lips. “You’re gonna be my good girl? Like always?”

Hearing his husky timbre call you his good girl always ended you; truly a fatal blow to your already aroused insides. “Y-yes, Tae.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you respond to me like that.” Taehyung sucks air between his teeth, licking his lips as he gazes at yours. “My cute little sub.”

Legs squirming, you nibble on your lower lip, embarrassed by how soaked you are. Taehyung watches you do so, and his eyes shoot towards your fidgeting. He smugly smirks. “Baby’s soaked, isn’t she?”

Cheeks flustered, you look away from him. There was something innately domineering about Taehyung’s energy whenever he switched to his dominant side. He still had it in him to submit you in seconds; you really were down bad for him, huh?

When you don’t answer, Taehyung grabs underneath your chin and forces you to look at him, deeply searching your eyes. “You know how I feel about words, Y/N. Answer me.”

Swallowing, you speak just above a whisper. “Yes.”

He tightens his grip. “Louder.”

“Yes.”

“With my title.”

The equivalent of Niagara Falls flows from your cunt, sighing as his fingers firmly press your throat. “Yes. Mr. Kim.”

Your dominant husband gladly smiles then. “Good girl.” He rewards you with a sweet kiss, releasing your chin. “Now turn around.”

Following his order, you swivel around and present your back to Taehyung. He collects your hair and casts it upon your shoulder, slowly undoing your zipper. His presence feels palpable behind you, his deep, rich tone pleasurably saturating your eardrums. “We’re trying some new things tonight, Princess.”

You become ansty, toes curling in this position as your husband continues unzipping your dress. His lips suddenly graze your ear, eliciting goosebumps across your skin. “You’ll do exactly as I say, right?”

Impatient, you nod eagerly, before remembering his reminder. “Yes, Mr. Kim.”

“You know what happens when you disobey me, right?” His husky timbre is to die for, surpressing a fucked out moan as you answer a ‘yes’.

“What do I do if you don’t listen to me, Princess?” Taehyung swipes your dress off your shoulders, slowly peeling it down your upper half, revealing your naked top. The dress pools at your hips, and his warm hands snake around your exposed stomach, voice deep in your ear. “Tell me.”

“You’ll… punish me, Mr. Kim.”

“And what’s my punishment for not listening to me, pretty girl?” He rasps in your ear.

Taehyung’s arms then travel around your figure tightly for an embrace. He presses your bare back to his bespoken, expensive suit as you whisper. “You edge me… for an hour.”

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums in satisfaction. “Good girl. That didn’t go well the last time, now did it? Baby only lasted 20 minutes before she was crying to be fucked.”

Recalling the pathetic memory in his office, you become timidly flustered. “T-Taehyung…”

His teeth come out to bite your ear, warmly chuckling. “So cute.”

Stepping away, Taehyung requests that you turn around again. He slides off your gown and has you step out of it, casting it aside. You only remain in a lacey pair of black panties, gaping at Taehyung on a knee before you. He leans forwards and kisses your shin, his hands seductively cascading over the back of your legs.

Your husband indulges in laying a trail of kisses up your thighs, and you shudder as he rises in height. His kisses are sensual and slow as he pecks your inner thighs. You peek down to find him staring back up at you with his coffee brown eyes, falling in love all over again.

“Tae…”

He smiles against your skin, reaching your damp center and kissing your sex through your underwear. A shiver curls around your spine, nipples hardening into pert nubs. Taehyung divinely kisses your cunt as you moan eroticslly above him, fingers immediately carding through his hair. He deeply groans when you give him a tug, and you’re seconds from collapsing.

Just when your legs begin to shake, Taehyung rises to his full height, his lips hovering just above yours. He appears just as crazed as you, his eyes dilated beyond just hunger as he grabs your face. He was craving you.

“You… remember our safe word, right?” He breathes harshly, his chest rising and falling hard as he contains himself.

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously.

“Good, because I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

Immediately, Taehyung crashes his lips onto yours, devouring you for all you’re worth, You return his kiss almost crazily, hands weaving through his brown locks as Taehyung’s fingers dip into your underwear. He rapidly removes your panties and leaves you naked, pressing you into the wall behind.

His cock feels prominent now, your husband gently grinding his clothed flesh against your wet pussy. You shudder, clawing at his suit jacket and Taehyung takes the hint. He swiftly removes his jacket and you pull his tie loose, Taehyung’s fingers quick on his dress shirt.

Once you’re privy to his gorgeously crafted body as his shirt hangs open, you admire him in full, hands running over his thicker frame. “Holy fuck…”

“Like what you see?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been working out more. You make me sick, you know that?” Taehyung happily sends you a side-smile before kissing your lips, far too proud.

“I have a pretty wife I need to rail every night, of course I have to work out.”

Rolling your eyes, you tug him back for another kiss before Taehyung’s the one breaking away, tapping your nose. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

You watch Taehyung dig into his drawers as you hug your naked figure, biting your lip. You hear the familiar clanking of handcuffs, and your insides stir upon imagining all the exhilarating things he could do to you tonight.

He did say you have no clue what he has in store.

When Taehyung returns to you, your eyes light up. Taehyung adores the way they sparkle, his own smile undeniable. “You really love handcuffs, don’t you?”

Excitedly meeting his eyes, you nod like an elated child. Grinning, Taehyung requests your hands. “Hands.”

You present him your wrists, and Taehyung secures the leather cuffs around you. This is familiar, but you observe a sort of ‘S’ hook in the middle of the leather cuffs, becoming curious. “Taehyung, what’s that for?”

You indicate the hook, and all your mischievous husband does is smirk at you, pulling the strap of your last cuff tightly. “You’ll see, pretty girl.” Taehyung then reaches over and nabs a soft, cushioned stool. Your husband curls his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Come here.”

Stepping towards him shyly, he points his eyes towards the stool. “Stand on that.”

Complying, you tentatively step onto the stool. You feel powerful once you realize you’re taller than him, pridefully tipping your chin. “Hah, I’m finally taller than you!” You remark, though just as you enjoy your height advantage, your husband suddenly ensnares your wrists. You gasp as he lifts your arms and instantly snaps the hook onto the metal rod above you

Registering your cuffed hands above, and the lewd way in which you hang completely naked now, you cannot believe him for a single second.

“Oh Taehyung… you did not just–” Taehyung’s palm suddenly whacks your wet pussy, slapping it. You gasp, jolting in your cuffs. “Taehyung!”

Submerged in his entertainment, Taehyung’s smile is sinful. “You’re mine, baby girl.” His deep voice echoes in the vast, sensual room, his eyes undeniable. And when his hands curl around your waist, sliding up and down the junction of your torso, you turn into jelly when he rasps. “I’m gonna play with you all night.”

Shuddering, Taehyung suddenly steps back to eye your hanging body. He checks you out shamelessly, groaning lightly at your delectable figure. He sexily peels back his dress shirt then, too, leaving him shirtless, and only in his dress pants. He fixes his watch on his wrist as he eyes you like a project, as though you were a blank canvas he couldn’t wait to paint.

“Taehyung, I swear if you—” You’re interrupted with a moan when Taehyung’s fingers suddenly swipe through your pussy folds, surrendering you to him.

“Shhh, such a bratty little sub.” He hushes with a laugh, his thumb suddenly finding your throbbing pearl. He smooths over it, and you jerk forward immediately, sighing as you throw your head back. “I’ll have to discipline you.”

Drawing his fingers away, Taehyung’s disappeared by the time you regain yourself. You could already feel delirious; the sexy feeling of your body simply hanging for Taehyung’s pleasure felt riveting. Your nipples were hard beyond comprehension, you were leaking essence like a faucet, and your goosebumps made his every touch proliferating.

Your husband returned with the face of a man ready to ravage something, and when you peer at the object in his hand, you sigh pleasurably, knowing your he’d be your demise. “Oh fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“Ouu,” Taehyung hisses. “You kiss me with that mouth?”

“To your pleasure.” You clip back.

Chuckling, Taehyung means business when he taps the frayed end of his favourite riding crop against his palm, eyeing you like a teacher prepared to discipline a naughty student. “Now, let’s count all the ways you’ve disobeyed me, yeah?”

Groaning, you become a whining puppy, pouting for him. “Taehyung~”

“Nuh uh, you can’t pout your way out of this, Princess.” Taehyung chastises. “Your pain kink is my favourite thing about you.”

His sweet coo doesn’t make up for his scheming eyes, and just as you wish to argue with him, Taehyung positions the soft leather end upon your stomach. “Firstly, you called me baby, not Mr. Kim or Taehyung.”

You sigh at the electrifying touch, eyes softening into orbs of innocence. “Baby~”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Baby never learns, does she?” Right then, Taehyung removes the stoll from underneath your feet, and you instantly lose the height you had on him. You gasp as you drop, toes just touching the ground, offered up to Taehyung like a hanging piece of meat.

And he’s a hungry, starved beast.

“It’s my play time, Y/N.”

With that, just as you begin rambling your way out of this, Taehyung lands a smack against your stomach. You jolt, body buzzing with pleasure as your head falls back. You resurface to eye your husband angrily, unbelieving of him right now.

“You goddamn–” He lands another firm hit, this time too close to your pulsing core.

“The second way you’ve disobeyed me, is by talking back.” His authoritative voice submits you. You laugh humourlessly despite your core throbbing, staring your husband down.

“You’re unbelievable, Taehyung.”

Another thwack above your clit, and you’re gripping the chains of your handcuffs with a shudder. “Good girls don’t talk back, they listen. Don’t you know how to be a good girl, Y/N?”

“I would if you weren’t an–” Taehyung this time slaps your swollen bud, massaging it afterwards. You nearly keen over, melting to the feeling of the crop against your clit. “Taehyung!”

“Third, good girls don’t swear at their Doms.”

“But I didn’t even swear!”

“You were going to call me an asshole.”

Whining, you’re only met with Taehyung’s amused smirk and bewitching eyes. He sensually skims the riding crop up your body until he meets your breasts, caressing one of your hard nipples. You shudder out a moan, indulging in the sweet stimulation. He repeats the same action with your other breast, and your pussy is on white hot fire.

“Taehyung…” You moan, losing your mind. Taehyung approached you with an arrogant smirk, gliding the riding crop’s end across your lips as your fucked out eyes meet his carnel irises.

He laughs seeing your expression. “You act like you hate it, but I know you love this, Y/N.”

Hearing him rasp your name gives you chills, completely enslaved to him. He leans forward as though he’ll indulge you with a kiss, but pulls away just as you reach for him. He mischevously smiles, distancing himself to run the riding crop around your body.

You whimper. “Taehyung~”

“So, three ways you’ve disobeyed me,” He lifts three fingers to indicate, his husky voice coursing ecstasy through your veins. “Multiplied by the amount of times you’ve done them, that’s…” He trails, as if pretending to count, plastering a saccharine sweet smile on his lips when he’s done. “A lot of fucking times.”

Whining again, you jut your bottom lip out. “Please, Taehyung.”

Your husband merely breathes a laugh, endeared by your act, though it’s not penetrating his deepest desires.

He begis taking careful steps, circling around you as he runs the leather tip across your sensitive skin. You shiver at the riveting sensation, feeling him tease your sweet spots. You moan as he reaches the back of you, slowly stroking down your shivering spine until he completely steals your soul—he taps your ass with the tool.

“Fuck, baby…” You groan, and a mere second later, Taehyung whacks the crop against a cheek. You moan, jolting upon the contact.

“You called me baby again.” Taehyung chastises, and proceeds to smack the riding crop on your ass again—hard. You squeak, not used to his harsher hits. “Shit…”

“Too hard, Princess?”

“No… no.” You deny him, biting your lip at how shamelessly your center is pooling with cum. You’re an addict for when Taehyung specifically controls the strength of his hits, knowing he can add more, and yet he carefully chooses the levels in consideration of you. “I love it.”

You can feel him smile behind you, his words enough to indicate that. “You’re such a good little sub, you know that?”

When you nod, Taehyung thawcks you with the riding crop again, and you gasp with a bounce. “Good girls say words, Princess.”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Kim.” You swallow.

“And whose little sub are you, huh?” He trails the soft leather tip against your side now, rounding your sensitive figure. You shudder as he teases your hardened peaks, finding him right before you again. Your delirious eyes register your drop-dead gorgeous husband, wanting to reclaim your resolve to deny him, but your buzzing pussy and swollen bud weren’t doing you any favours.

Instead, you were a pathetic slut for him.

“Y-yours, Taehyung.”

Taehyung arrogantly smiles, trailing the riding crop down, down, down your center until he’s just atop your pulsing clit. You whimper when he strokes your fat pearl teasingly, desperate eyes begging him. “Taehyung, please make me cum.”

He quirks a sexy brow, eyes a dangerous shade. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?”

You nod harshly, weakly whining. “Yes.”

“Mmm,” he hums, positioning the riding crop over your folds. “In a bit, Princess. You need to be disciplined, and I want more play time.”

Sighing, Taehyung lands his hardest hit yet on your pussy, and you jerk forward violently, whimpering after he does. Taehyung soothes your folds afterwards, cooing rewarding words as he does. “So good, pretty girl, but you’re still a bad girl.”

He delivers another whack with the same level of pain, along with another, and another, and another that grips your very insides, moaning like a fucked-out pornstar. You’re panting for air and glistening with sweat when Taehyung whacks a nipple of yours, losing all composure. “Shit, Taehyung!”

“Baby’s sensitive here, isn’t she?” And your husband slaps your other breast, caressing your nipple ao slowly he was driving you insane.

“Mr. Kim…” You’re out of breath, fingers scratching into your leather cuffs so hard you’re scuffing them. You can barely look Taehyung in the eye, and when he brings the riding crop towards your pulsing clit, proceeding to stimulate it with precise strokes and pressure, you’re anything but sane. “Taehyung-!”

Between your series of pants, Taehyung’s softer side kicks in. He cradles your quivering body in his arm then, benignly stroking you as he lays kisses upon your face. “Such a good girl, Y/N. You did so good for me.”

Heart glowing under his praise, you gently smile, relishing in his little pecks.

“You’re too good, you deserve a reward.” He declares, tossing away the riding crop. He unravels his warm arm from around your figure and steps towards the night table beside the bed. He grabs the opened wine bottle, returning to you.

“Do you remember something we talked about regarding wine, Princess?” He sweetly asks, his palm soothing the top of your thigh as you regain yourself.

“Not-not really?”

Running a hand through your hair, Taehyung’s baritone voice is like music to your ears. “It’s about my fantasy, pretty girl.”

Your eyes instantly widen recalling the sexual fantasies Taehyung’s mentioned before. His second one you’d both already fulfilled together in Mykonos, having not only become his true submissive, but letting him have you for a steamy, unforgettable night.

The first fantasy, however, still remained unfulfilled. “You don’t mean…”

“Mhm,” he hums, leaning forward to kiss you. “I’m licking wine off your gorgeous body.”

Your jaw drops. Taehyung breathes a smug laugh before he steps back to take a swig of wine directly from the bottle, and gently grabs your chin. His mouth envelopes yours, and he captures you for an intoxicating kiss that pushes the sweet wine into your mouth. You moan loudly, indulging in his addictive lips.

Your tongues dance with each other, licking and raveling around the other’s wet muscle to produce a sloppy, needy kiss. Taehyung groans into your mouth, breaking away and caressing your bottom lip. “God… I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

Grinning, Taehyung trails kisses down your jaw, meeting your pulse point. He sucks deliciously at your skin, nipping and licking hickeys that emblazon you with his love. You whimper when he bites at you, Taehyung happily groaning at the blossoming marks he embeds on your neck.

When he begins kisses towards your sternum, Taehyung doesn’t just leave tender kisses. No, instead, he draws back, and intentionally pours wine all over your boobs and chest.

You gasp loudly. “Tae, the floor!”

“There’s a rug, I put it here on purpose.” He mindlessly speaks, finding his eyes blacked out with pure lust. Taehyung has clearly kept this fantasy at bay for far too long, it seems, because he eyes your wine covered tits with such fascination; you were itching to see him indulge himself.

As though he reads your mind, Taehyung’s warm tongue juts out from his lips and slathers over your right nipple. You painfully sigh, your clit already swollen to its maximum, and this stimulation was God-like. Taehyung drags his tongue around your areola, over your pert nub only to do it again, licking up the wine that drips down your chest.

He visits your other nipple, listening to the needy and whiny moans that leave your mouth, and his cock hardens to multitudinous degrees. His tongue glides up your tit to your collarbone, plentifully lapping at your skin until he sinks his teeth into your neck. You fall back as you experience a mind orgasm.

The lewd sounds and noises you produce only rev Taehyung on more, too. Tipping the wine bottle over your body again, your husband pours some down the valley of your breasts, watching it stream down your stomach and abdomen, dripping into your pussy folds. He immediately laps up the drink like a dog to a pale of water.

You watch as your husband shamelessly devours your body, peering down to find his eyes blown out, a desirous red that leaves your stomach stirring. “Fuck… Tae, when you look at me like that.”

“Get used to it, baby.” He rasps. “You’ll always be my favourite meal.” And Taehyung proceeds to absolutely, quite literally blow your mind.

He grabs a firm hold of your hips and jerks them towards his own, making you grapple your legs around him. He uses this opportunity to pour more wine over your breasts and body, watching it perfectly mold to your every curve. His tongue returns for more delicious licks, and you moan pornogrpahically as it swirls around your nipples again.

The best, however, is when Taehyung sets the bottle down, and lowers himself onto his knees. Your mind becomes blank as he hoists your legs up onto his shoulders, and cradles your pussy just before his mouth. Shaking your head, you’re begging him to not drive you insane, because if that wicked tongue of his comes anywhere near your cunt, you’re an instant goner.

And what does the diabolical man do? He stares you straight in the eye, practically gripping you by your soul, and juts that fat tongue of his out to lick the slowest, most indulgent stripe up your slit. You quiver pathetically in his hold, legs shaking just from the intensity alone.

“Tae…”

“Mmm, your cum mixed with wine is my favourite treat, pretty girl.” Taehyung’s deep, rich voice throws you for a loop. He slithers his wet muscle through your folds again until he encounters your throbbing clit, finally giving you the mercy of swirling around the bud.

You keen, head lost to the clouds. “Fuck me, Taehyung… fuck me!”

“Shit, I love hearing you say that.” He breathes harshly, groaning when he gets a taste of the sweet wine. His tongue masterfully flicks over your clit and cunt, supplying you eons worth of pleasure. He flexes and curls the muscle perfectly, knowing your weaknesses like the back of his hand.

Your body is hot—sizzling—as you lull your back and bite your lip so hard it could bleed. And especially when Taehyung groans every time you release a wave of your essence, the vibrations travel up your core and nestle in the bottom of your stomach.

Your husband intensifies his velocity, flicking his tongue so much you’re unabashedly riding his face. His perfect nose always made it so tempting to want to rub your clit against, and today’s angle only made that desire worse. It was driving you insane to not be able to touch him, and your whines for more only become more desperate, needy.

“Taehyung, please, please, fuck me so I can touch you. Fuck me so I can feel you!”

“But you’re feeling me right now, baby.” He coos, grabbing the wine bottle only to pour some directly over your pussy. He dives back for his meal, slurping up the sweet liquid along with your leaking cum. His tongue was working wonders on your clit, too, driving you to madness.“Feeling my tongue all over your pussy, right where I belong.”

His words eat you alive, losing yourself as air becomes a fickle matter. “Inside me, Taehyung, your cock. Want you so badly… I can’t… I can’t!”

“You can, baby. I just wanna taste you, taste this pussy that’s all mine, right? Only mine?”

“Fuck me, Tae. I’m gonna cum! Daddy, please!” When Taehyung hears the daddy, he knows that’s your real warning you’re too close. Instantly springing off his knees, Taehyung wraps an arm securely around you, tugging you flush against his front. He gives zero fucks about the wine sticking you’re two bodies together; he wants nothing but to be stuck to you.

His mouth instantly attacks yours, mouthing and curling his tongue inside furiously. He tastes just like you, and you lap him up shamelessly; the combination of wine and your cum truly is divine.

Your husband’s far too impatient now, his cock straining against his pants so tightly it must be painful. His hands instantly dart towards his belt, kissing you maddeningly as he unbuckles the metal clasp.

The sound drives you up a wall, insides deliriously craving him like ecstacy. You moan hypnotically into his mouth, straining at your cuffs above you. They clang around on the rod, whimpering into his mouth to release you as he removes his pants.

Taehyung’s arms then encircle your body, crushing you against his front as he reaches up for the hook attaching you. He rapidly unhooks your leather cuffs, and your hands fall flat upon his shoulders. You can finally hold him, fingers weaving through his hair for an amorous kiss, and Taehyung rapidly charges backwards with you.

You crash against the padded wall, Taehyung’s body pinning you harshly with his lips hot on yours. You pleasurably moan, Taehyung groaning as his unsheathed cock caresses your wet pussy folds. He feels hot, hard, and throbs with need.

His grip is merciless, clutching and kissing you as though you were his last meal, and your naked bodies skin-to-skin drive you insane with lust. Your fingers tug harshly on his locks, swirling your tongue around his as you beg him to fuck you raw already.

“Taehyung…” You pant, skin sticky with wine and sweat. “Please, fuck my pussy.”

Taehyung groans out shakily, barely able to hold himself back. “Holy fuck, I can’t do this anymore.”

Without a hitch, Taehyung grabs the shaft of his girthy flesh, pumping it fiercely as he lays disarrayed kisses across your jaw, soon enveloping your neck for open-mouthed kisses. He fucks his own fist until he nestles the tip of his dick against your plushy pussy folds, smearing your cum all over him.

You melt feeling his meat against your cunt, pulsing unapologetically for him. “Taehyung… please, please fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung pants, his forehead beading with sweat, his passion evident in his blown out eyes. “My Princess wants to get fucked? How hard?”

Groaning with pleasure, your cunt flutters hearing him dirty talk you—nothing was hotter than hearing Taehyung’s deep voice rasp filthy words in your ear. “So hard, Tae. Fuck me so hard I’ll be bedridden.”

Your husband exhales a sexy laugh, feeling him smile against your pulse point. “As you wish, Mrs. Kim.”

And Taehyung, ever-so hauntingly, pushes his cock inside you, breaching your pussy hole that aches terribly for him. You let out a moan so loud, it harmonized with your husband’s to create a poronographic echo.

You grip him desperately as he eases himself into you, Taehyung marveling at just how dripping wet you are. “Holy shit, baby, you’re soaking me.”

“Fuck me, Tae.” You sigh erotically. “Give me your kids, fucking give them to me right now.”

Taehyung shudders as he hears your perfect voice moan those words to him, knowing full well you’re both trying to conceive anyway, and sometimes he enjoyed the idea of a night like this breeding one of his children. “Fucking dirty Princess. Want me to give you a kid? Make you round with our baby?”

You nod pathetically aa he bottoms out inside, Taehyung clutching your body closely as his lips find yours, gently maneuvering his hips to feel how tight you are. He groans into your mouth, experimentally thrusting into your sex as his eyes lustfully haze around.

“Oh God, the best pussy… the fucking tightest, warmest pussy ever, baby.” Your husband sighs, developing a smooth, intoxicating rhythm that fucks ypu cosmically.

Your lungs lose air as Taehyung not only proceeds to ravage your pussy, but begins fucking up into you so hard that you bounce against the wall, head so high you throw it back to whimper pathetically. His long, thick cock fills up all your empty spaces, your fluttering walls smothering him so firmly you felt every ridge, vein and groove upon his flesh. “Taehyung, holy fuck, oh my god!”

“Yeah? You like that? Is that how hard you want it?”

“Yes, oh god, harder!”

You squeak so loudly your moans follow, high-pitched enough that you could be considered insane. Taehyung’s face was shoved into your hair, his hot breaths fanning your ear as his deep, masculine groans travel through your eardrums and light your soul on fire.

Your tits jostle against his thick chest as he jackhammers you, his arms effortlessly supporting your body. He mercilessly fucks you against the wall, his teeth even sneaking out to bite your ear, causing you to lose all function as his cock slams into your spasming pussy.

“Oh shit, shit shit shit! Ngh–!” You moan, tears pooling your eyes as Taehyung’s hip smack yours, dick battering your sex so good you were seeing stars.

“Louder, Princess, you’re louder than that!”

“Fuckkk!”

Your nails dig into Taehyung’s thick neck, scratching red trails down the sides of his throat as you reach your impending doom, having already had your orgasm teased by him before. Taehyung was no doubt close as well; you could feel how hard his dick was throbbing inside you, practically growing in size each time he pierces you.

“Fuck me, Tae, I’m gonna cum.” You warn him, mewling ever time he smashes you down on his hot rod. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

“Together, baby.” Taehyung pants, drawing back to now lock eyes with you. His brown eyes are blown out, dilated, far beyond insane now, but he gazes at you as though you’re his salvation, and you’ve never felt more in love with somebody your entire life. “I wanna cum with you.”

Turning into a pile of mush against him, you remember how special this night really is, even if he is spearing you on his monster cock. “I love you, Taehyung. I love you so fucking much. Happy anniversary, I want to spend so many more years with you.”

Taehyung gently laughs as though his confession is obvious, but he just can’t contain his love for you. He’d happily shout it from the rooftops at any given moment. “I love you so much more, Princess. Let’s spend an eternity together, my pretty girl. Happy anniversary. .”

Heart glowing with glee, you crash your lips against his, and Taehyung secures his grip harder around your thighs as he increases his speed. Harder, faster, deeper—Taehyung delivers such precisely angled, otherworldly strokes that send you to cloud nine, transforming into his pathetic slut.

His harsher grip presses your clit right against his abdomen, and the constant friction of your zealous wine-stained bodies rutting against each other finally unravels you, releasing around him. Your moans reach an erotic crescendo as Taehyung loses himself once your walls trap him, and his hot seed spills plentifully inside your sputtering pussy.

You fall limp in his arms, limbs the epitome of jelly. Taehyung harshly pants, his skin slick with sweat, though he cradles you tightly against him. Your forehead falls upon his shoulder, laughing to yourself at just how mind-blowing that was.

Taehyung laughs, too, feeling the familiar rumble from his chest. Lazily, you lift up your fucked out face, finding his similar one. “You… are a fucking beast.”

Proud, Taehyung bounces his brows, smugly biting his bottom lip. “If you think I’m a beast now, wait until you find out there’s more.”

Stunned, your eyes widen at your moronic husband. “There’s what now?”

Chuckling evilly, Taehyung throws his head back before his eyes transform into a devilish shade of red. “Didn’t I say I’d play with you all night, baby girl?” Your husband reminds you, pecking your lips sweetly before spelling your doom. “Buckle up, Princess. We’re just getting started.”

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nomazee · 25 days

Text

close to your heart and that bed of yours too

you've been having the same weird dream about dan heng, over and over, and it just so happens that he's had the same dream, too.

dan heng x gn reader — 2.4k — super suggestive content but definitely nothing serious or graphic, some guilt abt attraction, dreams, romantic fantasies but not weird ones, kissing and closeness and physical touch, literal sleeping together

notes: forgive me and my debaucherous writing... this is nowhere near smut but it's definitely suggestive they get touchy and feely but it's very emotions-focused...oh my god what did i write this is so

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

It’s probably not possible to get cabin fever on a constantly-running space train, but that’s the only reasonable explanation for the weird, weird recurring dream you’ve been having about Dan Heng. It’s not— not that weird, not weird enough that you feel like a complete deviant, but enough for you to realize that it’s a complete reflection of your innermost thoughts and desires, and that scares you more than anything.

The dream— it goes like this:

You wake up—not in real life, but in the dream world, which freaked you out the first time because you didn't realize you were dreaming at all so you thought everything was entirely real—and it’s usually because of the noise of your door sliding open. The instinct to look and see who it is doesn’t hit you. You lay there, gaze fixed distantly on the steel surface of your ceiling until the feeling of your bedsheets moving next to you pushes you to full awareness.

You still don’t move your gaze until you feel a body—warm, breathing, real real real?—lift up your blankets and slide underneath them, pressing next to you, curling into your side as if seeking out your life source. Your breath catches in your throat every single time as you turn to see that it’s Dan Heng, still dressed in his work clothes because he doesn’t understand the concept of pajamas, and his arm reaches around you and curls around your shoulder and he rests his head on your collarbone, gently, and you can feel his breath fan against the fabric of your shirt and your skin.

Dan Heng says your name with reverence, with something like desire, and it makes your stomach clench and he turns his body into you more. He tucks his leg between yours—not moving, just sitting there, a reminder of him, his warmth—and he’s so, so warm, it amazes you that he’s like a furnace, and that he’s so unbothered by laying so close to you under all of your blankets.

And he says your name again, each and every time, and it spurs something in you and you bring your arms around him each and every time, and pull him close, and feel the way he shudders, like a cold breeze wracking his body, like he’s never been this close to anyone before, and it dawns on you that he probably hasn’t—and that thought alone spirals into the realization that Dan Heng would never do this—

And then you wake up. Each time.

The first time it happened, you didn't realize it was a dream, and you were so overwhelmed with thought after thought and feeling after feeling and sensation after sensation. When you finally woke up, it felt like you were grieving a loss. You felt too cold, and too empty, and curled into yourself and laid in your bed for an hour taking in shaky breaths until you finally got over yourself.

You couldn't face Dan Heng for that entire day. Which was fine, because he spent his whole day in his room shuffling through the archives, so he was easy to dodge. But then you dreamt of him again. And again, and again, and then it just became a part of your nighttime routine to dream of your own friend so intimately and then wake up and pretend like nothing matters and nothing changed. Pretend like you didn't feel anything, and pretend like these dreams didn't flood you with guilt about your sick sick feelings and your sick sick fantasies.

You tried to rationalize it, make yourself feel less awful. The dreams never went past him laying beside you, for the most part, and you preferred it that way. If they got any more intimate than they already were, you would’ve thrown yourself off the Express the next morning.

Regardless, the Dan Heng in your dream and the Dan Heng that you saw every morning were different people, because the Dan Heng you saw every morning would never get so close to you. Would never lay in your bed and breathe on your neck like that.

Never. That distinction is the only thing that convinces you to let yourself dream. You indulge, and it’s sickening, but you let your dreams happen over and over, and each time you hold Dan Heng tighter and tighter and tighter, and let him breathe against your neck, and feel the rush of his blood circulating through his body.

One night, in one iteration of this dream, Dan Heng kisses you. It feels so real that it makes you nauseous. His lips were warm and damp and clumsy against the corner of your mouth, and he let out anxious breaths until you tangled your hands in his hair and tugged him closer and kissed him back.

You woke up sick, running to your bathroom to puke in the sink as your hands shook in guilt. Somehow, you could still talk to Dan Heng normally that day, stomach twisting only the slightest bit whenever your gaze lingered on him for too long.

Welt might have noticed how weird you were acting. There was a nagging furrow in his brow and he caught your gaze more than once and each time, you felt waves of humiliation crash into you, flooding you in heat and guilt and vertigo. He looked like he wanted to pry in that odd, awkward, old-man-paternal way of his, but you just shook your head and looked away and begged, hoped, wished upon a star that you would have a normal dream tonight.

The night— it goes like this:

You lay in your bed, staring at your ceiling, leftover remnants of guilt swimming in your lungs and nightly congestion forcing you to take shallow breaths through your mouth. Thoughts run through your mind and slam into your skull at rapid speed. Has Dan Heng noticed how weird you’ve been acting? He hasn’t treated you any differently, but maybe it’s out of pity. Maybe you haven’t been paying enough attention, because you’re so busy replaying that dream over and over and over, obsessive, wondering if you should just let go of the rope you’re suspended on and slam into the water and drown in your wants and your needs.

So you close your eyes, and you let yourself drift off and wake back up in your dream. You’re on your side now, instead of on your back, and the door is on the far wall behind you. You still hear it slide open, as it always does in this dream, and the footsteps get closer until you hear the shuffling of someone kneeling behind you. And then there’s nothing.

Your blankets don’t get lifted up. There’s no warm body tucking itself next to you. But there’s— a voice, Dan Heng’s voice, and your heart sinks into your stomach as you hear the pitch of his voice, the vibrations of sound.

“Are you awake?”

Your brow furrows, and you clench and unclench your fists twice before parting your dry, trembling lips. He’s never spoken in a dream before, not like this. He’s only ever said your name. Your fingers twitch with the instinct to pinch yourself.

“Yes,” you respond, hoping that the confusion isn’t clear in the timbre of your voice. “What’s— is something wrong?”

“No,” he says immediately. Clothes rustle as he adjusts himself. You’re scared to turn around and face him. You don’t know what you’d see. “You…” and he pauses, thinking of his words. Dan Heng would rather take a full minute to think about what to say, what words to pick, instead of stumbling over syllables, and it’s so unlike your own habits and as you think of this, your fingers twitch again. This time with the desire to hold his hand, because that’s what you’re supposed to do in this dream, but everything feels too real now and you don’t know where you are.

Finally, he finds his words. You’re patient with him. “I can’t sleep alone,” he whispers, as if embarrassed to admit it, “not tonight. I trust you.”

God. He can’t say that. He shouldn’t say that, because your head is spinning and you’re going to throw up. Your hand finds the strength to pick itself up and pinch the skin of your forearm. You’re not dreaming.

“Yeah,” you cough out, sniffling afterwards to cover up your budding anxiety as you finally sit up and turn to face him. “Yeah, you can, um. Sleep here.”

When he finally enters your field of vision, he looks the same as he always does—both in your dreams and in real life. It makes you sick. The guilt that you feel now comes more from the fact that he’s still in his typical outfit instead of pajamas.

“Dan Heng,” you start as you shuffle back on your bed to make space for him. He follows your motion, kneeling on the edge of your mattress before adjusting the sheets around you to tuck himself underneath and lay down. “We need to get you pajamas. I don’t know how you sleep like that.”

“I don’t sleep,” he admits, “not usually. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“You do. You might not think so, but you probably do. I wish I had a spare set of pajamas, but— they’re all, um, in the wash right now.”

“It’s okay. Your blankets are nice.”

Words tingle against your gums, syllables of confessions lighting up in your mouth. You want to tell him that a dream-version of him has slept under a copy of these blankets multiple times before, that you’ve dreamed for weeks about him curled into you and sleeping, and saying your name, and kissing the corner of your mouth. Right now, you’re just laid side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder, but you can feel how warm he is and his hand is so close to yours and you just want to hold it. You want him to say your name and look at you and hold your hand.

“Good,” you say instead of everything else that you could say, because you have a sense of self control at times.

Then Dan Heng says your name, rolling onto his side to face you, hands tucked underneath the side of his face in a stupidly endearing sleeping position. You follow suit, because your self control isn’t that strong. He doesn’t say anything else. Just your name, once. With reverence and desire. Maybe you’re dreaming it, but you pinch your knuckles again and yet you’re still in the same room with the same man in front of you.

One of your arms is bent between you two, hand resting on the pillow that separates you two. Dan Heng’s own hand—warm, and breathing, and real— comes up to rest on top of yours, and you cannot believe any of this is happening. You want to pinch yourself again but his hand is curling around yours and he’s inching forward and you hope that your deer-in-headlights expression doesn’t scare him off.

“Dan Heng,” you whisper, voice cracking with an embarrassing desperation. It’s a warning for him, before he does whatever he’s about to do. But he says your name, again, and his face is so close to yours that you can feel every breath fan against your face, and your entire body is warmed and your hand flips over to hold his, fingers slipping between his and tightening around it.

“Have you had these odd dreams these last few nights,” he asks, a leading tone in his voice, “because I have. About you,” and he’s too honest, and you have to swallow your saliva before it turns into sweat and blood, and you feel his hand squeeze back around yours. His is shaking, and you find some kind of comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one.

“Yeah,” you answer, because you can’t get more than one syllable out at a time tonight. Could anyone blame you? Would Dan Heng blame you for that, afterwards, even though his face is so close and his hand is so warm and it’s tight around you, and he’s shuffling around again, constantly fidgeting, and he takes his other arm and slides it around you, hand between your shoulder blades. He hooks a leg between yours, tugging you closer and closer and closer. You’re blinking at him, heart caught in your throat and eyes landing on his lips so that maybe he’ll finally take the hint.

He does. He does, and as cliche as it is, it’s better than your dream. He kisses you, desperate, and right before your eyes flutter shut you catch the contemplative furrow in his brow. His mouth is—warm, damp, but you feel the crack in the skin in the center of his bottom lip. It scrapes against you and you can’t help the shaky sigh you release at the feeling, and the hand on your back curls into the fabric of your sleep shirt.

Your eyes are closed, tight, scared that if you open them, you’ll just wake up back in your room, alone and cold again with your empty steel ceiling. Dan Heng’s mouth is moving against yours with a practiced proficiency that you’re almost jealous of. You let your tongue trace the edges of his teeth, carnal in your desires, before you bite down on his lip hard enough to leave a temporary dent. He shudders, hand trembling against yours and lips pulling back from yours as he tucks his head into your neck and lets out shaky breaths lines with addictive sounds. You’re going crazy. He’s driving you crazy.

The hard, carved metal parts of his clothes dig into you. Your hand goes around him to rest on the back of his head, threading through his hair as his breathing slows against you. “We can go shopping somewhere tomorrow,” you tell him, already thinking of how you’d convince Pom-Pom to land at some shopping district of some planet. “You need pajamas.”

“There’s no need for me to have that,” he says, stubborn and set in his ways, even with something as mundane as sleep clothes. “My normal clothes are fine.”

“Not if you’ll be sleeping in my bed.”

And that makes him succumb to your whims, much too easy for your own good, and you laugh when he lets out a weary sigh at your reciprocal stubbornness. Your fingers keep combing through his hair, soft and meaningful, until he falls asleep. You think you'll get him a blue plaid pajama set. He'd look nice in it.

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