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uhgood-dooghu · 4 years

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Dichotomy [M]

Author uhgood-dooghu

Pairing Underground Fighter!Namjoon x Reader

Summary He doesn’t want this life. But it’s the hand he’s been dealt. He is falling, but you are his safety net.

Genre Smut, angst, fluff, marriage!au, very loosely inspired by the film Southpaw, porn with a splash of plot

Warnings Unprotected marital sex, nipple play, nipple orgasm, oral (male and brief female), consensual possessiveness, Namjoon has tattoos, mentions of violence, lots of love, lots of angst, some cracky fluff if you squint, they’re very in love, they have a kid, they’re dealing with a lot of shit

Word Count 4.1k

a/n Banner by @xjoonchildx who singlehandedly gave me more confidence in my writing in 10 minutes than anyone has given me in like...10 years (so yeah, not to be dramatic but I kind of love you 🙈)

Dichotomy . . Trouvaille . . Redemancy

Cross-posted to AO3

“You still up for me, tiger?”

From his spot reclined against the pillows, Namjoon cocks his head, tired eyes narrowing into a smirk when he finds you leaning against the closet door frame. Sky blue silk hangs loosely off your shoulder, revealing the sheer bodysuit gracing your curves. You quirk an eyebrow and grin as your husband’s darkened eyes roam your body and linger on the deep v between your breasts, cream tulle contoured seamlessly to your hardened nipples. With a lick of his lips, he folds his arms behind his head.

“I don’t know, baby. Why don’t you come find out?”

His smirk never wavers as you push off the frame and saunter towards him, a quick shrug pooling your robe around your elbows.

You pause at the edge of the bed to admire the sight of him laid out in nothing but his ink and black boxer-briefs. Unable to resist, your eyes wander, tracing the swell of his biceps, the cut of his chest, the sharp lines of his hips, before you drop your robe to the floor. Namjoon’s lips nearly twitch into a snarl when you throw a leg over his lap, sitting back on his taut thighs with a sigh.

Your hands run over his chiseled torso to feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips. Years of training, of fights both won and lost, of facing opponents with a lust for blood, have hardened him, left a mosaic of scars in their wake to mark and maim the bronze canvas. He hides them behind a mural of art. Blots out the ever-present reminders of the choices he’s made in a storm of black and grey.

He is ashamed.

But to you, he is beautiful.

His hands find your thighs, the cool metal of his wedding band digging into your skin as you bend and press your lips to a line of raised flesh blanketed by the curves of a whale below his collarbone. You kiss the length of the scar, his body a map you’ve long since memorized. When you flick over his nipples, he hums, and you trail the column of his throat with your nose before nipping the underside of his jaw.

He is tense beneath your lips, but he always is, carrying his burdens on broken bones.

Cupping his face, you capture his lips with yours, tongues falling into a seamless dance as his hands begin to wander. They slip to your ass, palming the flesh, and you break away with a hum as he rocks you against his semi-hard cock.

“You feeling ok?” Your eyes lock on the deep cut slowly healing on his brow bone. A parting gift from his most recent opponent.

The sight isn’t foreign, but you always ask.

Leaning in, he drags his lips over your pulse. “Never better.”

With a click of your tongue, you tug him back and frown. He grunts in displeasure, but allows you to thumb over the faded bruise on his cheekbone and the fresh scar on his lip, his eyes following yours as they take in his slightly crooked nose and sunken dark circles.

He’s not ok, a fact you both know. He hasn’t slept much since his last match, a brutal victory against a vengeful competitor. That night, you had nursed his wounds with steady hands, whispered words of reassurance into his ear, stripped his emotions bare until he was sobbing into your chest.

He’s not a monster. He’s not evil. He’s just surviving. But barely. And that’s why you always ask.

“I’ll be alright, baby,” he mutters, gripping your wrist and gently pulling it from his face. He laces your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your lips twist into a thin smile. “I always worry about you.”

For a moment, his eyes flood with sadness.

They flood with his hatred of the underground. His weariness of breaking himself and others to provide for you and your son sleeping soundly in the next room. His ache to do something–anything–else that will put an end to the dead-eyed reflection he sees in the mirror.

But the underground is lawless, and you know he doesn’t have a choice. Debts, loyalties, threats… all cruel dictators of the life Namjoon’s been forced to lead. And lead it he will, as long as you are living and breathing beside him. As long as you are there to rebuild him when he crumbles.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smoothing out the lines between his eyebrows.

“No,” you murmur, fingertips tracing his face. “It’s just my job as your wife.”

A wry smile twists on his lips, one you quickly seek to remove with several soft pecks to the flesh.

“And as your wife,” you muse between kisses, voice turning playful, “I wanna see what damage you can do.”

His smirk returns with full force, and he resumes his exploration of your ass. “Oh yeah?”

Arms looping over his shoulders, you catch your tongue between your teeth. “Mhmm, think you can handle me, big guy?”

“What, you think I can’t go a couple rounds with you?”

With a matching smirk, you lean forward, rocking against his growing erection as you slant your lips to his.

“I think you can try,” you breathe.

He growls deep in his throat before reaching up and threading his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck. Your gasp melts into a moan as he marks his way across your skin, flesh turning crimson in his wake. When he closes his lips over your most sensitive spot, just below your pulse, you shudder.

In your years with Namjoon, you’ve discovered the bridging dichotomy between the fighter and the man you love. It’s in the way he claims you, paints you into a galaxy with his teeth and lips, etches his signature into your skin, as if bruising you with his love will erase the bruises he’s left in the ring.

You wear each one proudly, a constant reminder of the choice you made to call him yours.

“Joon,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering.

“Yeah, baby?” He nibbles at your collarbone before laving it with his tongue.

You don’t reply, instead shifting so your barely covered clit presses directly onto his cock, thick and defined beneath soft fabric. A small rut of your hips sparks an inferno in your veins, vocalized through a quivering whimper. His chuckles melt into groans as you grind against him, and he ducks to pull a nipple between his lips.

The sensation shudders through your bones, arousal flooding your cunt when he swirls his tongue over your bud through the barely-there fabric. A moment later, he has your bodysuit pooled at your waist and pauses to hiss a curse at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, chest heaving slightly, before diving back in.

“Baby.” You are clutching the nape of his neck, shivering helplessly as he traces the pebbled skin in relentless circles, teeth coming out to tug and release over and over until your head spins. A hand leaves your ass, and you feel his fingers pinching and twisting, palm cupping your breast with a tantalizing pressure.

He works you up, teases you breathless, pools the slickness soaking your body suit with each passing minute, and the pleasure is relentless. A constant vibration pulsing between your legs, through your fingers, down to your toes, rendering you a shuddering, whimpering mess in arms that flex to hold you upright.

Through the delirium, you realize he will have you falling apart just like this.

He confirms this when he purses his lips over your swollen bud, sucking with the right amount of force to have you riding that edge with a wanton moan. The sensation crescendos as he switches rapidly between your nipples, kissing and nibbling until it becomes too much, too fast, and you writhe above him.

“Oh fuck! Namjoon, I–oh shit shit shit, I’m gonna come,” you wail, and he growls against your chest.

Stomach clenching, hips rocking, hands vice-like around his bulging biceps, you surrender to your climax, babbling incoherently as it shudders through your body in pulsing waves.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whimper, aftershocks drumming up your bones, leaving you winded and feverish.

Namjoon pulls away with a triumphant grin, eyes locked on where your thighs meet. “You made a mess, baby,” he purrs, and you follow his gaze to see your arousal has leaked through the fabric of your bodysuit and hopelessly stained the outline of his cock.

Another whimper leaves you as he growls, “I fucking love your tits,” punctuating the statement with a kiss to each nipple.

Still panting, you reach down and snap the waistband of his Calvins. “Off. Now.”

Ignoring the amusement in his eye, you rise to your knees so he can slide them off, not even bothering to hide the needy breath that slips out when his cock springs free, slapping heavily against his stomach.

As soon as his underwear hits the floor, you shift between his legs to press wet kisses around his navel.

On nights after a winning match, Namjoon often takes his adrenaline home, releasing it in a tight grip of your hair and deep thrusts down your throat. After a loss, he lets you take the lead, drowning in the warmth of your tongue, cunt, whatever you want to give him, as long as he can cum.

But on nights like tonight, between matches, in the wake of training, he likes to be teased. Likes you to drag out his pleasure, because it reminds him he is still alive. Still capable of feeling something good. Still worthy of something good, even with a line of broken bodies trailing his own battered soul.

He’s told you as much in hushed words breathed into the darkness of your bedroom when he cannot sleep.

And, god, do you want to remind him he is worthy.

Your tongue dips into the curves of his abs, hands caressing the tops of his thighs as you trace over the v of his hips. He brushes your hair back and you catch his eye, heart blooming at the unfiltered desire pouring from his parted lips in bated breaths.

You don’t look away as you explore him with your mouth, nibbling a mark into his hipbone. His gaze is heavy, searing straight to your core, as you wrap your hand around him, swiping his precum off the tip with your thumb. It smears down his cock with each drawn out pump of your fist, and he grunts when you lick a slow stripe up the prominent vein framing the underside.

“Y/n…” His voice strains in his throat, fingers threading firmly in your hair, but you refuse to take him fully, instead running your tongue over every inch of his length, kissing from the base to the tip before sucking firmly on the head.

Swirling over the sensitive flesh, you dip lower, only to pull back immediately, teasing him with the warmth you know he craves but refuses to take. He needs the chase, and you’re all too willing to provide.

When you finally grant him a brief thrust into your throat, he moans with a buck of his hips, stuttering out pleas and words of praise, his fingers shaky against your cheek.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he pants, leg jerking when you swirl your tongue around his balls, drawing one into your mouth.

You drink in the way his chest rises and falls, flush visible even under his tan and tattoos, nipples pebbled, abs flexing with each labored breath. You love when he loses himself. When he allows the world to fade to black, until all he can feel, see, and breathe is you.

When he lets you in to gather the pieces of himself he’s chipped away.

You smile when he whimpers, thighs quivering around your shoulders, and pull back.

“What?” He groans, bumping his head against the headboard as you thumb over his slit.

With a kiss to his pelvis, you sigh. “You sound so pretty when you’re needy.”

Gently twisting your hair into a ponytail, he guides you up and drags your lower lip through his teeth. “I’m always needy for you.”

A contented hum fills the space between you as he moves you back into his lap. “I like that.” Hand still wrapped loosely around his cock, you give him another agonizingly slow stroke.

“Mmm, I know you do.” Namjoon palms over your ass and thighs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your bodysuit. “Get naked, please?”

You tilt your head back, neck going limp as you slump forward and kiss his lips. “Mkay.”

Dropping his cock against his abs, you rise to stand over him on the mattress and spin around under his dark gaze. He gets a front row seat to the wetness stringing from your nether-lips, glistening as it is revealed in the muted lamp lighting. His groan makes you giggle, and you have barely stepped out of the bodysuit before he shifts.

You feel his tongue latch onto your cunt with a delayed jolt of pleasure, nearly falling forward as you gasp. His strong arms hold you still, lips descending to close around your clit, suckling the bud, and your knees tremble.

“J-j-joon, w-what–” you stutter, breaking off with a whine and a strained rock of your hips.

His grunt is muffled against your wetness, tongue dipping into your entrance. “Can’t help myself.” He slurps obscenely, and you blush with an involuntary clench. The motion sends another drop of arousal onto Namjoon’s tongue, and he moans, lapping it up, but you need more.

“Joon,” you beg and tap urgently at his hands. “Namjoon, baby. Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Your wanton plea sees you twirled around and jerked roughly over his cock. He presses the tip between your folds to tease your entrance and drag over your slippery clit in tight circles.

“How do you want it,” he whispers.

Gripping his shoulders, you gasp when he dips an inch into your cunt. “Like this,” you breathe, desperate to trap him in your warmth.

The stretch is sinful, delicious and wet, your soft walls squeezing and fluttering around him as he lowers you onto his cock. When you press your ass to his thighs, he groans, head falling back, and you snag the opportunity to kiss at his Adam’s Apple, enjoying the vibrations of his voice beneath your lips.

“Shit, y/n, you’ll be the death of me.”

You exhale a breathy laugh and rock back only to snap forward, much to his enjoyment.

“Better me than anyone else.”

You let him take the lead, let him drag you up by your hips until he nearly slips out, then slam you back down, beginning a damning rhythm that shocks your spine with pleasure. The mattress squeaks softly beneath your knees, the air between your bodies steamy and thick. Only the knowledge of two sets of doors and your son’s deep slumber allows you to vocalize your need for your husband with reckless abandon.

“Oh, right there, Joon, right there,” you whine, when he adjusts the angle to pound directly up into your most sensitive bundle of nerves. His blunt head kisses your cervix with each drop.

“Yeah? That feel good?” He growls, running his lips over the column of your throat, and you whimper an affirmative.

“S-so so good, mmmm.” Sinking onto his pelvis, you circle your hips, grinding out a fresh wave of arousal that soaks the base of his cock with an arch to your back. Your cunt clenches around him, and his fingers tighten over your thighs, face buried in your neck.

“F-uck,” he heaves, “you’re unbelievable.” Beads of sweat trail his temples, and he pulls back to lock eyes with you, chocolate irises heavy with something deeper than lust.

“I don’t deserve you.”

His words send a sharp pang to your heart, bringing you to a halt.

You let the pleasure in your veins simmer to a dull throb as you steady your pulse, shaking your head with a determined glint in your gaze. Encased fully in your cunt, his cock throbs against your walls, and you quiver at the sensation.

Wrapping an arm his shoulders, you press your palm over his racing heart, feeling it skip a beat when you squeeze around him.

“You feel that,” you ask, breathless, clenching again, and he moans brokenly. “You fill me up so well, baby. So perfectly. I was made for you.”

You drag yourself up and down, grinding your clit against the dark hairs on his pelvis. Your own breath hitches, forehead falling against his, chasing the twinges of pleasure with tiny ruts of your hips.

“You deserve me, Namjoon. You deserve the whole world.”

His eyes flutter shut, jaw clenching, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But you’ll keep telling him every day, every minute, until he does.

For now, though, you cup his face and draw him in, kissing him with as much love and devotion as you can pour into his lungs.

“I love you.” Another press of your lips. “I need you.” A breathless tangle of tongues. “Make me come. Please.”

You barely register the change in position before he is hovering above you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and entering you again with a single, powerful thrust.

“Oh–“ You nearly choke, gripping his wrist where his fingers wrap around your calf. “Oh fuck.”

He reaches deep within you, filling a gap in your heart that aches without him. As his cock drags against your most sensitive spots, tears pool in your eyes from the pleasure, but it’s the knowledge that only he can unravel you, break you apart and piece you back together–just as you do for him–that has you gasping out his name.

He was made for you.

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls, groping your breast. “You’re fucking perfect.” His voice shakes with exertion, fierce eyes boring into your glazed ones, possessive and utterly consumed with you.

“Mine.”

Your eyes roll back, and you nod helplessly, the pressure reaching a peak as you beg him to take you. Moans escalating, your fingers grapple for purchase, clawing at his biceps, his shoulders, anything you can reach. Your head rocks back and forth against the pillow as you ride along the precipice of ecstasy, tears spilling as you chase after the final push.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you cry, and he grunts, rearing back to slip his hand between your bodies.

The presence of his thumb on your clit sends you careening into your orgasm, cunt pulsing around him wildly, your entire body vibrating, writhing under his weight as you sob out for him, barely registering the groans of praise he showers over you.

It seems to go for an eternity, wave after wave rolling through you, leaving you heavy-limbed and dizzy, a buzz settling in your eardrums.

A moment passes, and through your daze, you hear his voice, low and heavy, against your lips.

“I’m not finished with you, baby.”

You’ve barely caught your breath before he is flipping you over, manhandling your limp form with an ease that sends a leftover wash of warmth through you. Falling against the sheets, you stretch your arms over your head and let gravity arch your back.

He presses into the base of your spine, smoothing soft circles into your skin, before asking, “You good?”

You flinch when he grazes his cock over your folds, still sensitive and swollen, but nod, ready and willing. “Take what you want, baby.” Finding his hand, you intertwine your fingers. “I’m yours.”

It’s hard to think after that.

The slapping of skin on skin mingled with breathy whimpers and throaty groans grounds you as you surrender to Namjoon’s hold, bending to his strength. He chases his high with an iron grip on your thighs, ensuring a mosaic of bruises for the morning, and you know he won’t last much longer.

“Gonna come,” he grits out, hauling your ass higher, readjusting to slam you back onto his cock. “Fuck. You ready for me?”

“Mmmm, yeah, fill me up,” you moan, voice pitching as you cling to the sheets, reveling in the oversensitivity.

His hand leaves your hip to travel up your spine, weaving and fisting through your locks, pushing your face further into the mattress as his body bows over you, hips losing their rhythm. His breaths are ragged, grunts deep and feral in your ear, and you reach back to clutch at his thigh.

“Come for me, baby,” you pant, swirling your hips as he grinds into you, and then he is releasing with a choked groan, his warmth flooding you so deliciously that you sigh softly.

Chests rising and falling in tandem, you hold each other as the lust settles into a thrum of contentment.

“You think Wooyoung woke up?” The question is a whisper against your skin.

“No,” you huff, eyes closed heavily. “You can’t wake him up with the fire alarm.”

Namjoon’s laugh vibrates against your spine, and you smile. You feel his fingers detangle from you hair, and a kiss is pressed into the space between your shoulder blades as he slips his softening cock out, allowing you to roll to the side and stretch your legs. A drop of his cum trails the inside of your thigh, and you nudge his leg with your foot.

“Clean me up,” you chide.

He chuckles on his way to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth that he runs over your body, rough hands a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch. When he’s done, he passes it to you, letting you pull him in for a kiss.

“Thanks, baby.” The cloth finds the hamper as you go to pee, and stepping back into the bedroom, you find Namjoon already dozing off beneath the covers, one arm hooked behind his head.

You pause by the bedside with a smirk. “Wore you out, did I?”

He smiles, eyes still closed, and you climb in next to him, pecking his dimple before nuzzling into his side. His free arm wraps around you tightly, as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You’re my strongest opponent,” he mutters into your hair, making you laugh.

You settle into silence, but your fingers think for themselves, absentmindedly tracing over the intricately detailed moon inked across his ribs. Textured scar flesh hidden beneath swirls of black and grey bring back memories of cage fights you no longer attend, of nights spent beside dingy hospital beds yelling at your husband for pushing too far, of each and every time your son has run into your arms, crying and asking why his daddy looks like that.

It boils your blood to know there’s nothing you can do. You are powerless, unable to protect Namjoon from the world that claims him, unable to protect your son from the reality that ages him beyond his five years. Unable to protect yourself from the fear that, one day, Namjoon might not come home.

He feels you tense and drums his fingertips over your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” A beat of silence passes, and Namjoon’s thumb presses into your hipbone with a little more force. “…just…“ Rising on your elbow, you reach up to brush over the cut above his eye. “…wishing some things were different.”

He remains expressionless, but you can see through the mask. Can see the guilt, frustration, and anger accumulated behind a fragile wall of self-preservation. Years of relentless searching allowed you to find the fracture, poking and prodding until it shattered for only your eyes to see. In its wake you found him broken and alone, consumed by the self-hatred and shame suffocating him at every turn.

You pulled him out of the rubble, gave him a light to follow, a reason to fight his way out of the ring. You stood by him, gave him everything he never thought he deserved, gathered the pieces of his soul he ripped away himself. You stitched him back together, wove your love into the seams, made him smile for the first time since his long lost childhood.

You found the boy beneath the man, and you want to give him the world.

You wish some things were different. But not him.

“Do you regret it? Marrying me?”

He knows the answer, and you know why he asks.

You saved me from myself.

“Never.”

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bonvoyagenoona · 2 years

Note

To that anon asking for ‘some fanfics (series preferably or OS) that are kinda angsty and smutty with a sprinkle of fluff?’

I’ve got a few in mind that hopefully will be able to scratch the itch:

1. Destructive Interference by @vyduan

“You do not remember a time before Taehyung Kim — only the after. The afters, if you are being precise. If only the afters were not so akin to little deaths; perhaps you would not have minded so much. Alas, such knowledge is a posteriori. What is the use of regret on hardwon facts such as these?

It is too late.

There is no time before Taehyung Kim for you; he just is. A priori. Is there a time before your parents or your brother? They are and thus have always.

There is not enough time. There is never enough time.”

2. Brown-Eyed Baby by @jeonstudios

“A lost child at the mall. Eyes from a different time.”

3. Omertà by @lamourche (sorry I wasn’t able to link the story—for some reason fuckass tumblr wouldn’t let me)

“A story about an unlikely mob boss and his mafia princess wife. This is a love story set in a brutal world.”

4. Dichotomy by @uhgood-dooghu

“He doesn’t want this life. But it’s the hand he’s been dealt. He is falling, but you are his safety net.”

Hopefully this helps!

Ah, thanks anon! Check these fics out!!

#asks #your asks #anon #my reading list #bts fanfiction #bts rec list #bts rec lists #bts fic recs #bts fics

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btsficsnate · 4 years

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all of these stories are mature and contain smut!

K I M N A M J O O N

prohibido. | @personasintro

dichotomy | @uhgood-dooghu

black swans | @namfine

out of the woods | @angelicyoongie

take two | @fakeleaves [can't find the fic]

parallax: waning crescent | @psychedia

song of the sea | by @jamaisjoons

K I M S E O K J I N

admire | by @salade-tb

M I N Y O O N G I

heartstring melodies | @whitesparrows97

all too well | @cupofteaguk

away from you | @personasintro

J U N G H O S E O K

dagger to the heart | @imyourhobiii

P A R K J I M I N

white shadows | @minloop

deep waters | @mygsii

the art of flirtation | @essantial

K I M T A E H Y U N G

7 rings | @pradaksj

devil's garden | @heartbeatan

beyond desire | @strwberrytae

last light | @dreamyjoons

J E O N J U N G K O O K

jeon empire | by @ephemeralkookie

fast cars | @zibermuda

mutual help | @personasintro

all star | @inkedtae

acatalepsy | @1kook

burn it | @ephemeralkookie

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bangtanarmynet · 4 years

Text

Acceptance Post #35

WELCOME TO BANGTANARMYNET!

@lumaejin @joonslildimple @simplyhobi @universtars @uhgood-dooghu @taezs @onherwings @yuqi-s @jeonggoofy @dramagguks @love4hobi @purple-writings @eclipsejoon @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @junghelioseok @kimvvantae @yoongimybiasforever @tatastaetae @yeongukk @hesperantha @smolt0wngirl @searchingtae @yoongiandthebiaswreckers @jiminsirose @winteredbear @sanaspinkhair @balenciaguks @joenkook @viopera @fireflyinsummer @fakeleaves

Now that you are a member of the purple universe:

Reblog this post, so we know you accept your membership!

If you want to join our discord chat, send us an ask off anon and one of the admins will provide you with the link.

Place a link to the network somewhere on your blog (we will check!)

We want to emphasize that you read the rules again and ensure you to follow them!

Track the tag #BANGTANARMYNET and make sure to tag original content from now on, so we can reblog it.

If you still have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact the network! We are happy to welcome you to our purple universe! Let’s shine together! If you haven’t been accepted and want to know why, please check our faq.

- Your Galaxy-Team

#acceptance post

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inkedtae · 3 years

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iii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

chapter three : the geraldson residence ⤑ you run your mouth too much. now your ass gets it.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 8.8k

⌁ warnings; mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, ass enthusiast!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, light thigh worship, semi-public sex, daddy kink, hand kink, praise kink, slight humiliation kink, corruption kink, scent kink, dirty talk, jealousy, slight oral (f.), masturbation (f.), voyeurism, exhibitionism, orgasm control, spanking, choking, begging, teasing, biting, clit rubbing, cum tasting/eating

⌁ le playlist

ও a hundred thanks to cam ( @sunshinejunghoseokie ) for the pretty, pretty banner!! a super special thank you to my bestest betas sammy ( @chateautae ), eva ( @nottodayjjk ) and kiki ( @uhgood-dooghu ) for reading through this at such short notice and dying with me at this couple’s cuteness. i love you all so much 🥺💞

When you walk out into the lobby, you find Kim Taehyung standing with the doormen he hired to watch over your building. He has his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, long autumn coat undone to reveal a maroon cardigan all buttoned up and fitting him so snug. The few buttons near his chest remain open though, his collarbone on display. The thought of decorating that delicate area of skin with your muted pink lipstick trickles into your mind and eventually settles between your legs. A shiver twirls around your spine with a shaky breath.

Taehyung hasn’t heard you yet, hasn’t noticed your presence lingering around the staircase door. He raises a brow at something one of the men says. The men shift their weight, fidgeting only to stand straighter. You watch, mesmerised and concerned, as Taehyung leans forward and whispers a couple of phrases. The men hurry to their posts, eyes locked on the street and hand clasped behind them the moment Taehyung stands back to his full height.

He continues to stare ahead, asking, “You gonna stand there all night?”

“Yes, Mr. Kim,” the men shout in unison.

Smirking, Taehyung snaps his attention to you. “Not you,” he says over his shoulder.

You know you should respond, offer some sort of grunt of acknowledgement or even a nod. Nothing seems to work though. Your voice is caught somewhere in your throat where you can’t reach it and your mind is too captivated by surprise to compute any comprehensive commands beyond the reminder to just breathe as you try to slowly process the fact that he knew you were watching him the whole time.

But, you wish it was just that. You wish you were just caught red-handed, ogling him as he scolds his employees. You wish his eyes don’t devour you with every other glance. You wish so badly to have missed the way his head tilts to better capture the curves of your hips and stomach in the little black tube top and skirt you found hidden in the back of your closet.

Seeing that this dinner party at Geraldson’s house is your work obligation and not Taehyung’s, you didn’t think it was fair to ask him for the funds to purchase yet another dress. So you revisited some of the older outfits you used to wear for past school events you were expected to attend.

However, though the sheer black button up tucked in your skirt and cinched with a belt is an old look for you, it is not for Taehyung. He just stands and rakes his gaze up and up and up only to go back down, down, linger around your hips, and down some more.

Finally removing yourself from the door to the stairwell to properly meet him, you wonder if you should go back up and change. As you draw nearer to him, however, you notice how well your outfits complement each other. Now you begin to wonder if anyone else at the party will notice it too.

You decide against changing.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you greet him with a playful smile, “Mr. Kim.”

His features flicker from hungry to amused. His eyes only darken. “You’re late.”

“You seemed to keep yourself busy.”

Your gaze momentarily shifts to the doormen, but Taehyung doesn’t follow it, not physically anyways. He inhales deeply through his nose, letting out a little groan with the exhale as he settles a hand on your waist and lazily pulls you into him. It’s an effortless way of towering over you, of forcing you to crane your head back just enough that the wrong nudge could result in a kiss. You reject the fact that you won’t mind that.

Just friends. That’s all you are, you remind yourself. That’s what you’ve been telling everyone. It was the only way to keep Mrs. Chu from rushing down here and meeting him tonight. It also seemed to be enough to get back in Lucas and Jackson’s good graces. They asked you multiple times if you two ever discussed work, the former worried that he’d be reported for stealing and the latter reported for slacking off. You reassured them that you and Taehyung keep your professional lives separate from your personal ones.

And yet you crave his hands… his fingers. Isn't it so sexy how he can cup the entirety of your pussy with one hand? It’s so big, fingers so long you swear you felt them poking your asshole when he last visited the office. It happened weeks ago but that clenching emptiness is all you can feel every day at work. It’s particularly painful in the copy room, where you’re certain you can still smell him and your arousal in the air. You find yourself staring at the door between copies, hoping that by some miracle he’d walk right in again and rub away the wretched neediness between your legs.

“That’s not the point,” he tsks, voice dipping to that lower octave you find he only uses when he calls himself Daddy.

You match his attitude with that innocent one you know he likes, or at the very least, appreciates when he falls into his role. Playing with one of the buttons of his shirt, you drop your gaze and sigh, “That was never an issue before. You never care if I’m late.”

He rubs small, irregular circles around your back. You ignore the urge to melt against him. “I do when you’re walking home from work.”

Wait, he’s talking about earlier? His brows bounce in confirmation when you look up at him. How would he even- It clicks before you even finish the thought, sparing a glance at the nervously shifting doormen. So not only are they equipped to guard the building, but they’ve been reporting your comings and goings.

“You need to tell them if you’re going to be late, okay?” Taehyung says, drawing your attention back to him. He follows every tilt of your head to maintain eye contact, one that has since softened from when he first pulled you against him.

You want so badly to be more annoyed that he’s keeping such close tabs on you but actually find the gesture really sweet. He cares and this is how he knows how to show it. You know full well too that if you were to ask him to remove them or request they don’t tell him all about your whereabouts, he would respect that. He’s a great friend, possibly one of your best.

“It was just for today. Everyone left earlier for the party and a few of us had to keep things running. I don’t think it will happen again.”

He nods, understanding, but still asks, “You’ll tell them, though, right?” He, then, nudges his nose against yours when you half-heartedly pout at him. The gesture coaxes a giggle but you school your features quickly with that pout once more, or so you tell yourself.

“Fine,” you grumble under your breath, a playful glint in your eyes despite your dull tone. “But, I’m only telling them about work.”

Taehyung smiles. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Angel.”

You won’t flush at the sight. You refuse to. Clearing your throat, you press your thighs together and pretend that every urge to wrap your arms around him is actually one to push him away.

“So are we gonna stand here all night?” You tease, echoing his words from before.

Hand sliding to the small of your back, Taehyung rolls his eyes and leads you towards the door.

Sinatra’s Moonlight Becomes You seeps out of the sleek black car the moment Taehyung opens the passenger door for you. At first, you’re confused to find that it's bare of a driver, but then you catch sight of the interior. An emerald glow highlights the black interior, the intensity of the light swiping around the trim in rhythm to the song. It gleams and glitters and you really begin to wonder how the hell he got his hands on this mysterious car.

“Are you planning on hopping in any time soon?”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s teasing. It’s not like you can anyways, being too consumed by the glow of the car. “Oh! What does this button do?”

“No,” Taehyung says, quickly grabbing your hand before you can press one of the shiny green buttons on the door. He uses the grip on your wrist to turn you around, back pressed against the frame of the door. Holding onto your chin with one hand, body towering over yours, he orders in a whisper, “You’re just going to sit down and buckle your seatbelt, okay?”

You deadpan. “I know how to get into a car.”

“Notice how I didn’t mention anything about buttons.”

With a roll of your eyes, you huff, “Fine.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. It softens your once annoyed gaze, a change that does not go over his head. His smile widens at the sight and he does it again before praising, “Good girl.”

You hop right into the car. Taehyung laughs.

“Shut up,” you whine with a little chuckle. He purposely laughs louder, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger as you buckle your seatbelt. He shuts the door before you can ask him to do it again. Thank god.

“Welcome back, Mr. Kim,” a peculiar voice greets once Taehyung hops in as well.

You pause. Turning to scan the seats behind you, you’re only met with emptiness. Taehyung watches you with that amused look, eyes shamelessly revelling in your cluelessness.

“Any calls, EDEN?”

“Two from Dal, sir. He sent the reports you’ve been expecting. Shall I call him back?”

It’s the car. The car speaks. You stare at, what you thought was the radio system, with wide eyes and mouth agape. The light moves to the sound of the automated voice. Seriously, what kind of car is this? Could you maybe have one too? You don’t really know how to drive but you almost think it doesn’t matter because it’s just so fucking cool.

“Where did you get this?” you ask with a little chuckle, hand gliding over the smooth leather dashboard.

“I built it.” He replies before looking back to EDEN. He puts the car in drive and pulls out of the spot as he requests, “Let me see those reports first.”

The windshield panels into a dark screen all around. The reports pop open like a document on a computer screen. You’re worried about how the hell he’ll be able to see what’s ahead of him only to find that he’s not driving at all. One hand rests on his lap while the other swipes through the digital files. If the car really drives itself, maybe he really can get you one too, or rather, build another one.

Astonished, you watch him work. His eyes round while reading, lips apart and sometimes muttering along. It’s so cute and then, all at once, suddenly too hot to handle because his brows furrow and lips settle into a scowl and he stops mouthing along.

He’s quite obviously upset but, under the emerald glow, you can’t help but notice that he kind of looks like a superhero, especially when paired with the advanced technology of the car.

Hoping to ease some of his tension, you blurt, “You have a Batmobile!”

Taehyung shoots you a confused look. He drops his hand once he understands the comparison, angry features softening into amusement. “A bat- Angel, didn’t we agree you’ll sit quietly?”

You raise a brow. “You never said ‘quietly’. You just didn’t mention buttons. Oh! Buttons! Where is the nitro?” Scanning all the pretty, gleaming buttons, you ignore most of Taehyung’s orders that they don’t even properly register.

“The nitro?”

“I’m pretty sure the Batmobile had nitro.”

He blankly stares.

“You know,” you insist as a way of explanation. “The nitro- the turbo!”

“The turbo?”

“Oh I remember, it’s called the NOS!”

Taehyung sighs, eyes shutting for a moment. You have to bite back your laughter, schooling your features when he meets your gaze again. He’s trying hard not to let a smile break out on his lips too as he says, “That was from Fast and Furious.”

“So, is that a no?” When he shakes his head to confirm, you snap your fingers and point like you’ve just caught him in a lie. “So, you admit it’s the Batmobile then?”

“For legal reasons, I must clarify that this is not a Batmobile,” EDEN interjects.

Taehyung wears a look of triumph, raising a brow. “Thank you, EDEN.”

You cross your arms over your chest as EDEN graciously responds. Glaring at the car, you ask,“Come on, EDEN. Who’s side are you on?”

“I am technically programmed to support Mr. Kim.”

“Ha!”

“Ha, what?”

“That means this argument was rigged!”

Taehyung glares. You flash him a little smile and his features soften a bit, enough to get his intense stare off you anyways. Perhaps it’s cruel of you to toy with him like this when it's so painfully obvious that he’s trying to work. So, you give him a minute of silence before pointing at the radio system and asking, “What does that one do?”

You really thought he’d toss you another warning glare or hiss at you to quit messing around. Never did the idea of his hand around your neck cross your mind. He holds it loosely but steady enough to turn your head to his. His eyes darkened at the little hitch of your breath.

You should be outraged by this rash reaction, but you find that you’re clenching between your legs. Fuck, you really hope he doesn’t see right through you again. You would hate to be fingered in front of his automated car, you think to yourself, ignoring how your clit throbs at the thought.

“I need you to be a good girl for me tonight, Angel,” he whispers.

Mustering the softest voice you can, you reply, “I was just asking wh-”

“No,” he hisses. “You know you weren’t. Any other night, I’d play along. Fuck, I’d even let you take the car for a spin, but all these reports are wrong.” His thumb gently rubs at the end of your jawline before pressing down the slightest bit of pressure against it.

You bite your lip to keep from moaning.

Taehyung smirks, brushing his nose so delicately against yours, you think that you might have imagined it. “I need every bit of patience to not yell at the person responsible,” he continues in a slow, gentle voice, purposely talking down to you. “So, you are going to sit pretty on those cute hands of yours- yup, mhm. Just like that.” He smiles down at your tucked hands. “That’s my good girl. EDEN, play Angel’s favourite show.”

And since Sinatra’s soothing voice has been replaced with the theme song of Dora the Explorer, that annoyed pout has not left your face. Leaning back in your seat, you glare at the split screen, the other side littered with the reports Taehyung cannot bear to look through again, and mutter a curse at Dora. She’s so clueless even with a magical backpack and a map that gives her the simplest of instructions. You’d be roaming the world with that kind of power.

“It’s literally right behind,” you whisper-shout at the screen.

Taehyung pauses to toss you an all too amused look as Dal tries to make his case over the phone. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, completely ignoring the fact that he cut his employee off.

You plaster the fakest smile you can muster as Dal staggers through a shaky, “E-excuse me, sir?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung replies. He holds your gaze intently as he urges Dal to continue. The tune of victory chimes from the show, you think Dal might be crying now, but Taehyung doesn’t really care. He’s staring at you, focused, enthralled and utterly poise.

At least you thought so until he sighs and rolls his eyes. “Dal, I do not pay you for half assed work.” He pulls at documents from the screen. They follow his hand and into the tiny, holographic garbage bin beside him. “Yes, I am because that’s what they are… If you think I am going to accept mediocre work then don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Dal can attempt to defend himself again.

With the end of his call, you pull out your hands from under you and shake them. They are slightly numb from being sat on for the last ten minutes. Taehyung parts his lips to no doubt question your actions. You grab and trash of the Dora episode into the garbage bin beside him, making him laugh instead.

“Should I play an episode of Batman next time?”

You must admit it’s a great joke, but you’re still upset with him. He mimics your half pout with a laugh too giddy for you not to join in on. His hands find the steering wheel again and the car adjusts to his touch. The black panels flip back to the window. The traffic lights cast a red glow over your faces.

“I was asking a serious question.”

“You were teasing,” he corrects. “It was cute.”

“You were angry.”

The slight whine in your voice must’ve alluded to more.

Taehyung spares you another quick look. “What is it?”

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks again, voice a touch more assertive.

One look. One look is all it took for him to know something is off. You exhale deeply through your nose, leaning your head back against your seat. “Maybe I’m just annoyed with you,” you quip. Though you’ve managed to keep your voice light of any real exhaustion, you cannot meet his gaze when he glances at you. You’re not sure if it will stop him from reading through you, but you try anyway.

“Bad day at work?”

Guess it didn’t work. One of these days you are going to ask him what the hell your tell is and be brave enough to hear the answer, you tell yourself. One of these days you will, but not today.

“I’m fine,” you say with a shake of your head.

Watching a whirl of green zoom by from the car window, you shift in your seat. Everyday is a bad day at work, but you know that if you tell him this, he’ll bring up the topic of speaking to Mr. Geraldson again. And though you know he won’t push you on it if you say no, you just don’t feel like having that conversation right now. You’re gonna need to save all your feigned pleasantries for the stupid party.

Taehyung leaves you to your thoughts for a moment longer before reaching over your thighs. You almost spread them, gasping when you catch yourself. He smirks, most likely catching it too, but doesn’t mention it. That alone alarms you a bit more than the embarrassing instinct to immediately part your legs at the sight of his large hand so close to them.

He waves at the car. That emerald glow traces a square in the leather before popping open like a drawer. It shuts automatically after Taehyung pulls out a colourful pamphlet and sits back in his seat.

“I have something for you,” he says as he single handedly turns through the grand gate of the Geraldson residence. “I forgot to tell you about it before.”

You ignore the way your gut tightens with desire at how he drives and accept the pamphlet he holds out for you. Heavenly Stables: Where the Best of Them Roam. The writing sits above a picture of horses in an open field. Furrowing your brows, you unfold the glossy paper to find the description of a cute and playful little pony named Monte. And beneath all her measurements and dietary needs, neatly written under the title of owner, is Angel.

“A pony?” You glance back up at him to find him smiling. He nods to which you repeat through a chuckle, “You really bought me a pony?”

Taehyung shrugs. “You said you wanted one.”

Swallowing thickly, you try and fail to ensure that’s the only thing you remember from that interaction. But, the warmth of the copier behind you curls your toes and the faded impression of his tongue moving around yours pushes it to the roof of your mouth. It felt so good without a kiss, you wonder how breathless you’d be with one.

Why doesn’t he ever kiss your lips? You’ve thought about this over and over again, yet can never figure it out. He kisses you everywhere else. Head, hair, ears, neck, shoulders, chest. Why not just add your lips to that list?

“I didn’t say that,” you correct in a small voice, drawing Taehyung’s careful gaze to you. He raises a brow. “I asked if you would buy me one.”

“I would and I did.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

Any hint of expression falls from his face. It happens all at once, you think that maybe he was never emoting at all. Was it your tone? You thought you sounded pretty gracious. He didn’t have to waste money on you like this, buying you things or pets you won’t use or even have time to take care of. He didn’t have to go out of his way to find you one at all because you didn’t even really ask for it.

Snatching the pamphlet out of your hands, he all but growls, “Fine.” The paper crumples in his harsh grip and he tosses it behind him. “Won’t do anything I don’t have to any more.”

“Tae-”

“We’re here,” he cuts you off as he circles into the driveway. He presses a bunch of buttons then takes the key out of the ignition. The shutting door is the only remaining sound in the glowing car.

Your door opens. Taehyung stands with the handle in one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. You blink up at him confused.

“We don’t have all night,” he sighs while staring straight ahead.

He won’t meet your gaze. It's the first time he’s ever refused to meet your gaze. You dismiss his tone and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Tae?” you ask when you hop out. Standing on your toes, you try to force him to look at you. Even in heels, you’re too short for him though. “Taehyung, I- Seriously?” You huff as he turns away from you.

“Sir,” a valet calls behind him. “I need your keys.”

Taehyung points his key over his shoulder. A single push of a button chirps the car back in motion all on its own. You make a mental note to praise his talent later, that is if you ever find out what’s got him so upset.

It doesn’t look as though you will tonight. Taehyung darts inside. He knows his way around. You already know why.

Alone, you enter. You guiltily wish to have arrived that way too.

The Geraldson residence really should be called a fortress. Every surface is marbled from the walls, to floors to the trimmings around the paintings on the ceiling. It looks like a castle that’s been repurposed as a museum, everything ancient and too valuable to even look at.

The library is what leaves you breathless, however. Well, the second of seven libraries, anyways. It’s a vision of crimson and rich oak. Every wall is lined with books, every table stacked with an array of scrolls or parchment you thought only existed at Hogwarts. The statues that act as pillars to fortify the ceiling, look grotesque enough to be gargoyles that belong in a Stephen King novel. You wonder if each library encompasses a different theme or colour scheme.

You found it after Jackson told you Mr. Geraldson would like to talk to you. In no mood to keep up this act of niceties, you rushed into the first door you found around the corner. You didn’t think you’d find Taehyung there too.

He stands at the end of the room, reading the lined spines of various classical books. His attention remains so even after the door’s shutting click echoes in the room. “For the last time Anna, the answer is no,” he says without turning away from the shelf.

Wow, another? If everywhere you go consists of some other woman he’s slept with, you would at the very least appreciate a warning.

“Anna?”

Taehyung stiffens at the sound of your voice, shoulders tensing as he hears you make your way towards him. “Mrs. Geraldson,” he clarifies.

Oh, perhaps it’s not another woman after all. It doesn’t stop you from wondering what the hell she’s been saying to him that makes him this sure she would follow him into a secluded library… all alone… together. Your jaw tightens at the thought, disgust scratching at your throat so much, you have to clear it with a little cough.

You stop and stare at the shelf with him. The one at your eye level is stocked with volumes of encyclopedias. “Why not just call her that?” There’s an edge to your voice that you so wish you would have caught before continuing the conversation.

It piques his interest enough to provoke a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure you really want to know the answer to that.”

Is that what she wanted him to call her when they’d… You visibly shudder.

That’s not at all comforting.

Perhaps there’s some reassurance in the fact that he refuses to call her that now, right? And whatever it is that she does want from him, his answer is consistently and unwaveringly a hard no. You tell yourself that’s a great sign in order to push an intolerable anger out of your heart.

Taehyung tosses you another glance at the unusual sound of prolonged silence. “Hm, there’s that look,” he grumbles under his breath.

Is it your face? Has it been your tell this whole time, spilling your emotions for everyone to see?

Turning to him, you ask, “What face? I don’t have a face.” You internally face-palm yourself at the stupid sentence. The little defeated sigh that escapes you coaxes a small smirk to settle on his lips.

Well, at least he’s amused. You’d take that any day over the coldness that arrests his attitude when he’s upset.

“You don’t have a face?” he repeats, smirk widening into a smile.

Face growing hot, you try not to smile along with him and pull a random book from one of the higher shelves. Taehyung watches you struggle to retrieve it, to escape his teasing gaze. A copy of The Canterbury Tales finally lays in your hand as he continues to tease, “That’s some really impressive mask you have on then.”

You toss him a sidelong glare then force an all too obvious fake smile. “Thanks. Your Batmobile made it for me.”

Taehyung sighs, head slightly rolling back in annoyance. “For the last time, it’s not a-”

A smile plays on your lips as you pretend to read, cutting him off with a quiet, off-key tune of the Batman theme song. He glares, but from the corner of your eye, you catch his lips curling in to keep from smiling.

Then, cutting your song short, he grabs the book out of your hands. You let out a squeal of disbelief which seems to fully settle that smile on his lips.

“Give it back.”

“Hmm?” He hums, leaning his head in as if he didn’t hear you.

You hold your hand out and repeat much less harsher than you wanted to have sounded, “Give it back, Taehyung.”

“Hmm?”

This is ridiculous, you can’t help thinking. But then you reach for it and he holds it high above his head and you correct your mental statement, deeming this to be ridiculous.

“Ridiculous and childish!”

He laughs. Though you’re annoyed, it does ease the tension in your chest. You really didn’t think you’d get so much as a kind look from him tonight, let alone that giddy laugh that always bunches his eyes so cutely. “Coming from the girl that talks back to Dora.”

“She asked a question!” you defend, reaching up to grab the book. “It would have…” you hold onto his shoulder to give yourself a boost, “been rude not to answer her.”

Unfazed by your attempt, Taehyung cockily watches you struggle. His silence draws your attention now and you meet his gaze. You’re a few breaths away from being nose to nose… lips to lips.

“That’s interesting,” he whispers.

Your panties never usually stay dry when his voice gets low like this. Thighs pressing together, you match his volume, asking, “What is?”

“This concern for manners from a little girl that hasn’t even learned to say please.” A smirk tugs on one of the corners of his lips when he catches you squirm. “Thought I taught you better than that.”

The only way to survive this interaction, you tell yourself, is to keep any further indications of your desire for him a shameful secret. So you ignore the urge to melt into his chest and the other to bite your lip. Swallowing thickly, you keep your voice as leveled as possible while mirroring his condescending tone, “That’s so interesting coming from the little boy that has yet to give me my book back.”

“It’s not yours.”

“Or yours,” you point out. “Is that why you want it so much? Because it doesn't belong to you?” He parts his lips to reply when you drop your attempts to retrieve the book, heels back on the floor and hands by your side. “On second thought, you can keep it. I mean,” you pause to chuckle all too haughty for his liking, “it wouldn’t be the first time you took something of Geraldson’s.”

The book drops with a loud thud followed by the bump of your back against the shelves and the release of a breathless gasp. Taehyung towers over you with his hand so harshly wrapped around your throat. It’s nothing like he did in the car, though. He was issuing a gentle warning then, hand around but never really choking and eyes intense but not really angry.

This time he’s issuing a punishment. His grip is tight enough to stunt your airway and gaze so cold, it burns your gut with desire. “What the fuck has gotten into you tonight?” he hisses, tilting his head like he’s about to kiss you but you know better than to think he’d go through with it. He’s never kissed you and you’re starting to think he never will.

Has he kissed her? The thought scrunches your face, lips in such a prominent pout, it looks as though you’re puckering.

Taehyung hums at the sight, taking a moment to consider them. You think he really might kiss you now when his tongue makes a reappearance. He licks at them instead, smudging your pink lipstick out of place.

Knees so weak, arousal gushing, you grab onto his chest, or rather, his sweater around his chest.

“Is that chocolate flavoured?” he asks with furrowed brows.

“Cookie dough,” you correct with a little chuckle.

He hums again, this time sounding more amused than aroused. You expected another round of endless teasing, maybe even another lick of your lips. Instead, Taehyung turns you right around. The once tight grasp of his shirt is so insignificant against his effortless strength. He lets go of your neck long enough to press both his palms around the curves of your asscheeks. Shivering, your pussy clenches with excitement. Since having his fingers, it’s always felt so empty. Doesn’t matter if you’re trying to sleep or making another cup of coffee at work, it would tighten needily for his hand and remind you of how you wished you had enough courage to ask for it again.

Grabbing onto the edge of the shelves, you moan and push your ass back into him.

Taehyung rubs at them as he says, “You must know by now that you can’t be speaking to me like that.” He squeezes, digging his fingers in and jiggling each cheek. You bite your lip to keep from giggling.

“See, that’s what I thought. I keep thinking you’ll be a good girl once I show the rewards but you don’t seem to want to understand that. You don’t even dress the same anymore.”

Brows furrowed, you pout, “What’s wrong with how I dress?”

“White suits you so much better.”

Is that why all the dresses he bought you were some sort of shade of white? Confusion taking over your features, you look back at him over your shoulder and argue, “But you wear black too.”

“This isn’t about me.” He pauses to hike your skirt up, bunching it around your waist like he did a couple of weeks ago in the copy room. “This is about you and that fucking attitude that can’t seem to be fucked out of you.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you’re about to stubbornly tell him that he’s the one with the attitude problem. He’s the one that up and left the car so abruptly, left you to fend for yourself at this stupid party where you only know two other people who might be willing to hold a conversation with you. If anyone should be chastised right now, it should be him.

All your words fall short when you catch him admiring your ass. Lip between his teeth and brows furrowed, Taehyung cups the curves of your ass and rubs them together in careful circles. Every time he catches another dimple of cellulite or line of stretch marks, he’d tighten his grip. You’ve felt his hands on your ass before, but it was always out of necessity. His grip was always needed to hold you up or keep you from falling. He would never take the time he does now, to rub and grab and jiggle just because he can, because he so obviously likes it. It forces your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to ease the throb of your needy clit.

The gesture seems to snap his focus back to the situation at hand. He catches you staring and tsks. “Don’t give me that look, Angel. You’re not getting out of this, not this time.”

Before you can even ask him what ‘look’ he’s referring to, he lands a hard smack on your right asscheek. You jolt up, bumping against the shelves with a loud moan. The sting buzzes around the affected area, and you take a moment to really process his actions. Did he just… spank you?

Another one lands on your left cheek. The instant rush of arousal and clench of your pussy makes you shiver. You moan with your head slightly rolling back and eyes fluttering shut. You’ve seen it in a couple of pornos, wishing you had a man with hands like Taehyung’s to play around with your ass like that. You just never really thought it would feel so deliciously painful. If he doesn’t stop soon, you fear you might have a new addiction.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Taehyung whispers. You can hear the smirk in that amused tone. “You like this too, don’t you, Angel? You like it when Daddy is mad?”

You bite at your index finger, mainly because biting your lip has not done as effective as a job you would’ve hoped to keep you from being too loud, and peek a look back at him. He rubs the sting out of both cheeks, staring at the finger between your teeth. You suppose he really wants an answer this time and settle for a little shake of your head. You don’t trust your voice not to fall apart at such an intense gaze.

Taehyung quirks his head to the side with a little tut. “Angels don’t lie,” he smirks before spanking both cheeks. A chuckle tumbles out of him when you squeal. Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, he whispers, “Tell Daddy the truth now. You like acting like a bad girl and annoying Daddy until he can’t keep his hands off you. Isn’t that right, Angel?”

It would be completely insane to agree with him, precisely because none of that is true. It can’t be true. You don’t act out to make him mad. In fact, you refuse to believe that you act out at all. He touches you because he simply adores watching you rile against him. He always laughs when you have to use every last drop of your strength to keep your eyes open and follow his aggressively delicate direction to ask like the good little girl you are. Yet, his voice is so captivating and lulls you into a filthy daydream of just him and his hands, hands, hands. Hands that rub and grab and smack your ass around like it was specifically made for that.

Resting your head against the edge of the shelf, you let out a shaky sigh. You cannot stop yourself from giving into his words, his dulcet voice. And so, you confess, “That’s right, Daddy.”

Taehyung presses a soft kiss into your done up hair, then the shell of your ear, feeling it with the sound of his puckered lips. “Hmm, Daddy knew it,” he hisses with another spank. He talks over your whimper, whispering, “We’re going to have to change that, aren’t we? You’re going to learn how to act like a good girl when Daddy is busy. And you need to be more grateful when he buys you things.”

You should have known. He’s upset over the fact you told him the pony was unnecessary. What the hell is his freaking obsession with that horse? So you were only joking about wanting one and think the purchase was wasteful, is that so wrong? Lips parted, you’re prepared to share your thoughts but the words never make it to your tongue. Your mind falls blank every time you finally summon your voice. It’s as though it knows saying any of this out loud would only result in a more ruthless punishment you might not really be ready for.

“Do you know how many times you spoke back to me tonight?”

You shake your head.

“Eleven,” he whispers before taking your earlobe between his teeth. He kisses it after nibbling on the sensitive skin for a second too long. “I need you to count them out for me. You can do that right, Angel? You can show Daddy that you can really be a good girl?”

Eyes shut, hands fisted by your lips as they hold on to the shelf for dear life, you whimper a quiet, “Yes, Daddy.”

Kissing behind your ear, he mutters, “Let’s practise.”

Taehyung spreads his fingers while smacking your ass, ensuring he covers as much surface as he can with a single motion.

You shudder with a little bounce, quick to whimper, “One.”

He smirks against your skin, “Good. Again.” He repeats the action, harder this time.

Your ass stings, igniting a blissful buzz amongst your sensitive nerves. “Two.”

“That’s right, Angel.”

Taehyung pulls up the band of your black panties. Whatever fabric once covered your ass, now bunches in the center of your ass. The tightest rubs at both holes too, making you squirm in place with every empty clench of your pussy. “From the beginning now,” he says as he rubs away the pain.

Your voice is not gone, just breathless in its effort. At least this is what you tell yourself by the fifth spank. Taehyung is relentless in his punishment. He smacks, smacks, smacks your ass again and again, hard and faster each time. His hand whips you bruised, the sheer force making him hiss from the contact as well. And he’s growling.

It’s bad enough you have to try not to fall apart with every spank and tightening pull of your panties, but now you have to combat the urge to melt back into him with every rough, growling grunt right against the shell of your ear.

“E-elev-en,” you mewl into your hands.

Taehyung lowly hisses, peppering kisses into your hair. “That’s a good girl,” he coos while rubbing your tender cheeks. His right hand burns against your ass. The fact that he bruised himself in the process makes you push your ass back into his hands. “Look at you. My good girl did so well. You’re so sexy when you listen to Daddy like this, Angel.”

His praises have you shuddering with pride. You want so badly to fight off the smile playing on your lips, but all your strength has been poured into remaining standing for the spanking. Peering at him over your shoulder, you find his lips a breath away from yours. He catches that smile of yours, one already on his lips too.

It’s happening. He’s going to kiss you now.

Taehyung pecks the tip of your nose before pulling away. He rubs at his lips, eyes raking over your lower half as he takes a couple of steps back. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s admiring his work.

Your thighs tremble as you press them together. It does nothing to soothe the ache between them.

“You’re never not horny, are you?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

Never not for you.

“You just spanked me,” you regrettably argue.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. You cannot put your finger on it but it seems to be something of a cross between mischief and amusement. He nods his head to the side, silently calling you over. A little smile plays on his lips as well. He looks as though he’s about to ask you a humiliating question and, though there’s no one else in the room, wants to shield you from having to answer it aloud.

You tug your skirt down as you approach him, only for him to tsk at the action. He furrows his brows at your hips and shakes his head. The sour expression softens when you pull the skirt back up around your waist.

Taehyung pulls you close against him once you’re within reach, hands on your ass and groping like he didn’t just spank it raw. Leaning his forehead against yours, he gives you this condescendingly knowing look that drenches your bunched up panties all the more, and asks, “Have you been touching yourself, Angel?”

Your breath hitches. Immediately, shaking your head, you reply, “No, of course not.”

“Why?” Concern colours his features. “I showed you how to do it. Two different ways, in fact.”

Oh. Is that what he was doing this whole time? So, he was just teaching you how to do it yourself. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel good or better after a bad day or particularly bad experience.

You swallow thickly and try not to sound fazed in your tone as you explain, “It’s not the same.”

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“Your hand is bigger than mine.”

He smirks at that, grip on your ass tightening. “So you just wait for my hand then?” When you avert your gaze to the side, falling silent, he pulls your attention back on him, brushing your nose with his. “That’s cute.”

That’s not the compliment he thinks it is, you tell yourself, not with that deep, condescending tone. So why are you wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him? Why are you pouting and looking at him through your lashes? Why are you aching to be touched all the more when you both know that’s not at all what he meant to do when he started? It explains why he doesn’t mention it after the fact. He thinks his work is done.

“Come on,” he whispers, backpedaling to one of the tables in the center of the room. He turns you both around when the edge meets his thighs. “You don’t need these,” he mutters, peeling your panties right off you. Instead of tossing them to the side, he shoves them in his pocket, licking whatever arousal rubbed off on his fingers away.

You whimper at the sight. He chuckles, filling your chest with humiliation and pooling your entrance with more neediness than you think you can handle right now.

“You’re being mean,” you whine.

His cocky expression somewhat softens but that smile doesn’t change. “I didn’t mean to laugh, Angel,” he lies.

You now know better than to point that out. If you speak back to him after such a spanking, you might never cum tonight and that’s not something you can risk. So, instead, you remain quiet and let him guide you onto the table.

Taehyung spreads your legs, your hands falling from his shoulders to his forearms. You shyly watch his gaze at your sopping pussy. His tongue darts out to swipe the corner of his lips. If your eyes don’t deceive you, you swear he just licks away a little trail of drooling. God, is he going to devour you tonight?

Your pussy clenches at the thought. Taehyung bites his lip at the sight. One of his hands slides up from your thigh to further inspect your pussy. With the pad of his thumb, he tugs up at the upper part of your pussy and tilts his head.

“What a wet mess,” he mutters to himself.

The extra inch your legs move apart snaps his gaze to yours. He must see the desire in your eyes, if whatever he saw between your legs is not indication enough. Still, he doesn’t touch you.

Instead, Taehyung removes his hand from your pussy and guides yours towards it. “Do you remember the first thing I taught you?”

When you nod, he helps you press two fingers flat on your clit and slowly rub circles around it. One, two, three, then he lets go, holding your gaze as you keep going. You swallow thickly, biting your lip at the little bouts of sweet friction where you’ve been craving it.

“That’s it,” he whispers, like he did that first night. “Don’t be afraid to move faster, Angel.”

Your fingers tremble against your quivering pussy. You just don’t understand why he can’t do this himself. He’s so much better at it and his fingers- Fuck. Hips jolting forward, your finger hesitates to pick up the pace at the thought of his fingers. Maybe you can trick your body into believing that your hand is really his.

Taehyung smiles, caressing your chin before squatting to the ground. His attention is now fully absorbed in the swirl of your fingers around your clit. He licks his lips, raising a brow when you reach down to collect more of your arousal to rub against yourself. “You’re doing great,” he encourages, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “Can you smack your pussy for me, Angel?”

Growing shy, you pause. Where are you supposed to hit? Right on your clit or a little lower? He glances up at you with that sweet smile. You cannot deny him anything. Going with your gut, you gently land a little slap on your clit. It’s barely enough to make you moan, let alone jolt.

Taehyung curls in his lips the way he always does to keep from laughing. It makes you hot all over, a little smile playing on your lips as you try not to laugh either.

“Stop that,” you chuckle, breathless from the rubs you’ve picked up again. “You know I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Aww,” he coos, brows furrowed and mouth in a playful pout. He wraps a hand around the thigh resting on his shoulder and softly rubs up and down your soft skin. Peppering wet kisses against your slick inner thighs, Taehyung adds, “You need to give yourself more credit than that, Angel. Look, you’re playing all by yourself again. I didn’t even have to tell you to do that.”

You quietly moan at that familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach. Slightly heaving for air, you slump your shoulders and ask in a whine, “Why can’t you just touch me?”

Taehyung sucks at a particularly sensitive area, right by the apex of your thigh as he peers up at you. Teeth grazing your skin, he mumbles, “There’s no need to do that,” he hums a pleased moan at the sound of your wetness slouching against your fingers, “when you’re already doing so well.”

Maybe this is all a way to make you beg, you wonder. Maybe he just wants you to ask him nicely, like last time, before putting his fingers in you. Hoping your hunch is right, you exaggerate your voice to that innocent tone he adores and plead, “Won’t you please put your finger in me, Daddy? I just need one, please- please, I can’t take this.”

He looks up at you knowingly. Your act does not seem to faze him as well as you hoped it would. Chuckling, breath fanning against your heat, he shakes his head. “You know how to do it. I showed you last time.”

“Please!” you try again.

Taehyung’s smile widens. He rests his chin on the edge of the desk, sniffing your sex. His lips rest just a centimeter away and you can’t resist pressing your hips against them. They sit at your emptily clenching hole. His tongue doesn’t dart out the way you wish it would and lips don’t move to even utter the praises they usually shower you with. Staring up at you, holding that unwavering, hungry gaze, he lets you grind against his face.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, voice muffled by sending vibrations through your pussy.

You hadn’t realized it yourself, so enthralled by his presence as he just sits and watches, but you really are getting close. Gyrating against his mouth, aggressively rubbing at your pussy, you cannot seem to catch your breath, let alone the fact that everything is about to come apart. It just feels so fucking good. And it’s not because you’re touching yourself, but because he’s there. He can sit here and pretend he’s not at all helping you. He can go on and on about how well you’re doing on your own, but you both know the reason why you’re so close and so unaware of yourself is because he’s here and he’s touching you too. He can pretend he’s right. The truth always remains the same; your pussy feels best under his care.

Asking for permission is a must, especially since you forgot to do it last time. The numb soreness of your ass is another reason you need to be mindful of his authority. Not like he’ll ever let you forget it. You'd rather be on his good side, either way. Besides, you know he’s acting this way now, but he still is upset about what happened in the car. Anything to make him know you really care and recognize his role in your life, you’d be pleased to do.

Pussy clenching, you summon your voice long enough to moan, “C-can I please come, Daddy?”

Taehyung raises an impressed brow. Keeping his head still, he hums, “Mm-hm.”

The faint vibrations of his deep voice ripple your orgasm loose. Your moan falls open as you cry out his name, eyes roll back with your head and legs quake as you gush against his lips. You can feel him growling against you, your hand moving faster around your clit.

“Ah, Daddy!! That feels so fucking good!” You cry out, voice broken as you look back down at him.

He’s taking in breaths full of your scent, his own eyes rolling back. When he catches your gaze, he smirks, “Thinking about me when you cum?”

Your body trembles. His tongue came out. You know for a fact that his tongue came out and got a little taste of you as he spoke. The tip poked at your pulsing hole while it gushed. You felt it and just want to feel it again. Resting both hands behind you, you circle your hips around his face.

Taehyung lets you do it once, twice before completely pulling away. His mouth, chin and parts of his cheeks are glistening with you. The sight immediately shuts your thighs together, bringing your knees to your chest.

“You didn’t ask to do that,” he informs.

Mouth open, you’re about to explain yourself when he begins to lick around his chin. You watch him clean his face up with his long tongue, just wondering what would’ve been if he just pushed it in you.

You don’t find out tonight.

tags : @marcoazz2 @complexmolecule @whats-good-ross @mawwnsterr @neverthefirstchoice @taeisbae13 @taeluvrr @llcalumhoodll @finelinememories @taestycake @suh-nrise @ellesalazar @ifntelyinspirit @bambuzlee @lookatmeimmrmeeseek5 @thelilbutifulthings @taepiper @daggersandicedcoffee @satansleftnut

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #v smut #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfic #v fanfic #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #btshoneyhive #networkbangtan #bangtansorciere

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houseofddaeng · 4 years

Text

INTRO: House of Ddaeng

WELCOME TO HOUSE OF DDAENG!

We’re so excited to present our newest addition to the family. Nothing sounds better than the sound of fresh, new and impactful bars ready to leave a mark and decorate our house with nothing but winning cards!

@namgee @uhgood-dooghu @4-seokjin @viopera @balenciaguks @hobeah @taemaknae @s0seo @darlinbangtan @sahmfanficbts @varietae

can’t tag:

Now that you have been accepted, please do the following:

- Reblog this post.

- Add a visible link to our network on your account - both desktop and mobile version.

- Check out the rules page again to refresh your brain.

- Tag original BTS rap line content with #houseofddaeng.

- If you said yes to joining the Discord server, please wait for a message from one of the admins.

Thank you so much to all applicants. If you don’t see yourself in this post, you may not have followed all the rules as outlined in the application. You are more than welcome to reapply during the next round of applications.

- The Admin Team

#acceptance

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xjoonchildx · 3 years

Text

💌 get to know me!

tagged by the openly funniest person on tumblr @smasmashin and the secretly funniest person on tumblr @augustbutwinter. y'all keep me in stitches.

when is your birthday?

christmas day and let me answer your question -- yes, it sucks 🤣

what is your favorite color?

i suppose technically gold is a metal, so we'll say green

what’s your lucky number?

i don't have one of these?

do you have any pets?

no. my fish michael scott died, may he float in peace.

how tall are you?

short. it's the first thing @ladyartemesia said to me when we met 🤣

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

no clue? i'm not a shoenista tho.

favorite song?

this feels like an impossible question to answer but i'll have to go with "lovesong" by the cure.

favorite movie?

atonement.

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

i have only been escorted by the police ONCE out of the olympic pool in atlanta and look, i just wanted to know what it was like to jump off the high dive

what color socks are you wearing?

none

bath or shower?

who the HELL has time to take baths?

favorite type of music?

all of it. seriously. i like songs in every category.

how many pillows do you sleep with?

i live in a pillow fort. i have to have at least 3 at my disposal all night.

which position do you sleep in?

i probably start on my side and end up on my stomach?

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

any noise whatsoever. it has to be entirely silent but for the whirr of a ceiling fan.

what do you have for breakfast?

this changes from day to day but i drink an alarming amount of coffee.

have you ever tried archery?

nope. @hobi-gif thinks she could be a good archer based on a recent conversation.

favorite fruit?

bananas

favorite swear word?

it has to be the "f" word i mean it's the most versatile word in the english language

do you have any scars?

well, yeah.

are you a good liar?

hmm. not sure? wait, was that a lie?

what’s your personality type?

easygoing. silly.

what’s your favorite type of girl?

not sure that i follow this question but the answer is probably rihanna

left or right handed?

right handed

favorite food?

have you ever heard of skinnypop?

are you clean or messy?

clean. but not necessarily organized which is kind of strange.

favorite foreign food?

i had ethiopian food for the first time the other day and oh my god it was fantastic. as a cuisine overall, i'd probably vote thai because PEANUTS.

how long does it take for you to get ready?

every day: 20 minutes. full glam? 2 hrs lolol

most used phrase?

i don't know that i have a most used phrase in real life. online it's proabably: HOBERTO ESPOSO TE AMO

are you a good singer?

i mean, i won't get thrown out of a karaoke bar but i'm not gonna win any contests you know what i'm saying?

do you sing to yourself?

sure. i wear headphones a lot.

biggest fear?

INSECTS.

do you like long or short hair?

i keep my hair medium length so maybe right in the middle.

are you into gossip?

hmm. sometimes?

extrovert or introvert?

i think i've become more introverted since the pandemic

favorite school subject?

history

what makes you nervous?

trying to carry a conversation with someone who's shy

who was your first real crush?

his name was isaac and i'm pretty sure he grew up to be a dick

how many piercings do you have?

five total, all in my ears.

how fast can you run?

am i being chased?

what makes you angry?

anti-maskers, anti-vaxxers, racists, homophobes, shitty people in general. be nice or be gone.

do you like your own name?

yes

what are your weaknesses?

have you ever heard of skinnypop?

what are your strengths?

i am who i say i am. i feel very confident in being a good friend.

what is the color of your bedspread?

gold and white

color of your room?

sea blue, gold, white

tagging: @hobi-gif @hauntedlilies @taeken-my-heart @btsarmy9593 @seokjinger-ale @bangtanhome @hantaev @uhgood-dooghu @reliablemitten @girlinthemikrokosmos @ressjeon @joheunsaram @hannahbee12719 💕💕💕

#tag games!

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inkedtae · 3 years

Text

vii. rotten angelcake

chapter seven : lunch break ⤑ unresolved tensions linger. taehyung tears them apart.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 7.6k

⌁ warnings; mentions and depictions of vaping, mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, sexual tension, possessiveness, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, pain kink, corruption kink, dirty talk, jealousy, degradation, oragsm denial, teasing, edging, biting, manhandling, spitting, spanking, dry humping, anal fingering, motorboating, nipple/breast play, light anal play

⌁ le playlist

ও as always a hundred thanks to cam ( @sunshinejunghoseokie ) for the pretty, pretty banner!! thank you, thank you, thank you to all my betas sammy ( @chateautae ), eva ( @nottodayjjk ) and kiki ( @uhgood-dooghu ) for always being there for me and reading through this smutty astriocity. ilysm 🥺💖

The days grow colder as October nears. It really limits the amount of strength you can summon to walk those fifteen minutes it takes to get from The Geraldson Group’s building to Bangtan Tower. Taking a cab at this time of day, when the whole city is scouring stores and restaurants for a meal, would take three times as long. So, you weave between the crowds, hands shoved into your pockets and scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. Your flimsy, thin jacket isn’t much of a shield, though. The frigid wind still whips against you, making your eyes water and cheeks cold to the touch. You shiver with each step.

This, however, is the least of your concerns. The real cold front you’re reluctant to face is Taehyung. Since your video call a couple of days ago, he’s barely uttered a word to you, just simple niceties. He has stopped texting first too. You’re not sure what it is that made him so mad and he refuses to talk about it. Every time you bring it up, he’d tell you he’s busy and has to go, even though you both know he’s not.

Is it because you came without permission? You’ve done so on multiple occasions and that’s usually nothing a few batting lashes can’t fix. Throw in an innocent apology and he tends to come right around. Maybe it’s because you did it one too many times? You were never really given the chance to charm him into forgiving you the last time too. He hung up so unexpectedly.

He might be nicer today knowing you’re having some trouble with your company issued laptop. Marina, of course, had given you the worst one on your first day. It’s dirty enough that most keys are jammed and all too glitchy. It’s not so bad on good days, but yesterday you couldn’t access your emails without the damn thing pixelating into a frozen blue screen.

Hoping for some sort of topic of discussion last night, his replies becoming increasingly vague, you rambled on about how shitty your laptop has been and how IT can never do anything to help. You didn’t expect him to reply with directions to his building… and a request to wear that red lace lingerie. All day, you’ve sat at your desk just waiting for noon to come so that you could rush over… hoping to work things out, of course… nothing more.

A little sigh escapes you the moment you enter the tall skyscraper. Though somewhat crowded, the building is extremely warm, melting that frozen layer over your trembling body. It takes you a moment but, once you’ve wiped away your cold-brought tears and eased into the heat, you take in the first floor. A picture of blue and greys monochromatically colour the entire lobby. People emerge and disappear behind every corner, the center reserved for a line of elevators.

“Name.”

You turn to your left to be greeted by an unamused security guard. Your eyes linger on the weapon secured at his hip. “Um-”

“Name.” He repeats louder, tone more aggressive than when he began.

Taken aback, you lean away from him with furrowed brows. True, he may be having a bad day or his shift may have started all too early but surely you haven’t done much to be spoken to like this. Though annoyed, you still maintain your manners. You flash a little smile and mutter, “(Y/N) (L/N).”

His face falls. A round of apologies begin to pour out of him as he scrambles between the drawers at his desk. “You-You won’t tell Mr. Kim, right? I mean, it was just a misunderstanding, miss. It won’t happen again,” he urgently blurts, handing you a pass.

You examine the light pink card. White angel wings are drawn in the center with Angel written right over them. It’s a slightly darker pink to be read against the lighter one and scribbled in a slate, though still neatly lined. A smile plays on your lips. So, maybe he’s not as mad as you might have thought.

“Honestly, I-I’ll do anything, just please-”

“I won’t say a word,” you reassure, cutting him off. “So, which flo-”

“Twentieth.”

With a final nod and expression of gratitude, you make your way to and up the elevators.

The twentieth floor is possibly the busiest one in the building. You haven’t seen much of it despite the glimpses stolen every time the elevator doors would open, but you’re just sure that no other floor works as hard as this one. It must be because this is where Taehyung’s office is, you think as you step off the elevator and begin to round the circular front desk. The receptionists don't notice you, caught up on their computers or phone calls.

At first, you simply follow the office workers unsure of where else to go. You’ve tried to ask someone on more than one occasion, but have been consistently ignored. You don’t take it personally, knowing you’re probably worse at your own office.

It’s just so odd how hard they are working through lunch. Now that you think about it, since when do receptionists not notice who comes in and out of their office? Is it not part of their job to greet visitors as well as take calls? Both looked all too occupied for a regular day. Maybe you can try to make your way back to them.

“Excuse me, I was wondering-” You try to ask someone walking by. He doesn't even acknowledge that you’ve spoken.

“Good Afternoon, Angel.”

Turning around, you find a door labelled Kim Taehyung. The entire wall behind you is a grey hazed glass and you wonder how the hell it was that you missed it the first time. “EDEN?” you ask, leaning down a bit to examine the keypad that acts as a doorknob.

“How can I help you today, Angel?” The keypad vibrates a glowing green like it does in Taehyung’s car as EDEN speaks.

“I’m supposed to be meeting Taehyung, but I’m not sure where to go.”

“Mr. Kim is in a meeting. Would you like to wait in his office?”

You furrow your brows. “Am I allowed?”

“You have been given the highest level of clearance. You are permitted to access every room and database Mr. Kim can.”

Looking down at the card, you smile for an entirely different reason. It seems so unnecessary to give you an all access pass when you don’t even work here. This card can allow you to pull up every document, every confidential detail about, not only the company, but Taehyung too. People in this building must work their asses off for a sliver of this privilege. And Taehyung just hands it to you on a silver platter. Why must he be so hard to read? Is he upset or not? Does he care or not?

Are you his or not?

“Once you scan the card, I will notify Mr. Kim of your arrival.”

With the pad of your thumb, you nervously trace the edge of the card. “I-I don’t want to disturb him while he’s working.”

“Mr. Kim requested to be notified of your arrival.”

There’s not much to argue about there. It’s probably best to keep most of your energy for him anyways. So, instead of debating about whether or not EDEN should alert Taehyung that you’re waiting for him in his office, you scan your card against the keypad. The green glows a bright pink before the lock clicks open.

Taehyung’s office looks like an art exhibit. The curators at the gallery would be jealous, fearing for their jobs if they ever saw his walls. Geometric black and white wallpaper covers what glass does not. Marble floors, rick oaks and sleek curved chairs, the one behind the desk being the biggest. You’re sure the designer meant for it to be oversized, but knowing how big Taehyung is, you can imagine that it fits him just right. To the left of the huge glass desk, is a wall of floor to ceiling windows. The world looks so small from this high, especially with the haze of the cloud swiping in and out of view. The tiny cars look like toys, and the people like frantic insects.

After hanging your scarf and jacket on the coat hanger by the door, right by his long black coat, you take a seat in his chair and gaze at the view. It must look so beautiful in the mornings, when the sun is just rising and the world does not realize it yet. The smell of chai tea and tobacco vape fluid fill your senses the moment you lean back. A glance at the desk reveals a cup of half full tea and that black vape pen of his. In need of a smoke, and not because the opportunity has merely presented itself, you take a little puff.

“Comfortable?”

You jump up at the sound of his deep voice, dropping the vape pen. A few pages of a file on his desk slide to the floor from the sudden bump of your knee against the edge. Lips tightly pressed together to hold in the smoke, you try to appear as natural as possible.

Taehyung stands in front of the closed door with his hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Though you had thought about how good it would look, you didn’t think you’d be this right. Paired with a fitted black sweater that hugs his torso and tucks into black slacks, the sight of him erupts and soothes your nerves all at once. Gaze lingering around his crotch, you remember making a mess of those pants in the copy room, or at least, ones that look just like them.

He eyes your rigid figure and surprised expression, attention flickering between your lips and the vape pen. Raising a brow, he asks, “You used my vape?”

“No!” you rush to deny, a cloud of smoke escaping you. Some gets lost in your throat, however, sending you into a little coughing fit.

Taehyung watches, only partly amused. “Maybe you shouldn’t be touching what doesn’t belong to you?”

You fake a smile. Voice heightened just the way he likes it, you sarcastically reply, “Great advice, Mr. Kim. I’ll be sure to do that in the next report.”

A smirk barely plays on his lips. The silence reminds you of his anger, cold eyes another indicator.

Swallowing thickly, you drop the act that would usually get him teasing back and clear your throat. “I’ve got the laptop,” you say before pulling it out of your bag.

Taehyung makes his way towards you as you set it down. You shuffle away a bit when he stands behind the desk. He gently holds your bicep and guides you back to where you were once standing, hips hovering but not touching… not yet.

“Jesus, this is gross,” he says as he examines the exterior. “Did you spill something on it?”

You’re about to deny it when you realize that you’ve been in his presence for almost five minutes now and he hasn’t called you Angel once. Glancing at the card, the angel wings staring back, you wonder just how far removed you are from his heart. It’s possible he had made this for you far before getting upset.

Maybe you won’t mess around with each other anymore. Maybe you’re just friends now. That doesn’t comfort your sunken heart at all. That doesn’t comfort your soul. Friends don’t ignore each other. Friends don’t get upset and never tell you why.

You take a step back. Taehyung spares you but a glance before opening the laptop. “It was given to me like that,” you reply, voice bare of emotion.

Taehyung fully turns to you now. He squares his shoulders, tightens his jaw and raises a brow. He’s cruel for towering over you when he knows just how much you adore it. You refuse to be swayed by a single gesture this time, however, raising a brow back as you cross your arms over your chest.

His gaze flickers to your breasts. “You really think flashing me is going to work this time?”

Face scrunched in confusion, you scoff. “Excuse me? When the fuck have I flashed you?”

“That’s cute,” he dryly chuckles. “Keep playing dumb, Angel and see where the fuck that gets you.”

That belittling tone dampens your panties, a little huffs escapes your nostrils as you press your thighs together. Fuck no. He won’t turn you on like this, use that nickname and make you forget why you’re upset with him.

His smirk widens when he catches you squirm. “You can stand there and squirm all you want. I’m not touching you.”

“I never asked you to.”

“You had no problem calling me in the middle of a fucking meeting begging for it.”

Is he seriously throwing that in your face? Never has he used the time he spends with you against you.

A scoff escapes you as you swallow back the growing lump in your throat. “You could’ve said no.”

He laughs. Loudly. It’s not like his usual condescending laughter that tickles something sinful in the pit of your stomach. This is vindictive, vengeful, and vicious. It violently thrashes at your heart, trading all your anger for sadness.

With the slightest quiver of your lips, you ask, “Why are you helping me if I’m such an inconvenience?”

That vicious expression of rage wavers. Glancing at your lips, he all but hisses, “You know I can never say no to you. You know I’d do anything for you,” he turns to press your body against his. “And you love to take advantage of that.”

The urge to melt in him halts when you register his words. A breathy gasp of disbelief leaves you as you stare up at him. “Take advan- Taehyung, are you serious? That’s how little you think of me? I call you because I trust you. I crave you because I lo-loathe being without you- because you’re my friend.”

He fists his hands by his side, desperate to channel his anger somewhere. Whether he caught your little stutter or not, you’re not really sure. His expression does not falter as he takes another step forward, towering over you all the more. Your muscles ache from the crane of your neck as he shouts, “Friends don’t disrespect each other!”

“How the fuck have I disrespected you?” you flatten your hands over your chest as you refer to yourself. He forces his attention to remain locked on your face as you yell, “You’re the one that shuts down the moment you get upset. And you fucking promised that you wouldn’t anymore! You promised, Taehyung!”

“You broke your promise first!” he accuses, somewhat childish in his mannerisms.

“What promise?”

Jaw tense, he seethes, in a voice so unlike the one he’s been using, “You told me there’s no one else.”

“There isn’t.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” he shouts, tearing the buttons right off your shirt to reveal your lace covered breasts. His face is the picture of rage, chest heaving with yours. However, the moment he hears you gasp that loud, breathless moan, he can’t hold back any longer.

Taehyung grabs each breast before shoving his face between them, right where you didn’t know you’ve been craving him. He massages them against his cheeks as he licks and bites down on your soft skin. Lips wet, he blows through them and shakes his head.

There’s barely much you can do besides run your hands through his hair. The elastic once holding it back falling off. “D-Daddy,” you moan, tugging on his ends. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back and push your breast further into his face.

Your voice lulls him out of his animalistic trance. His hands fall off your chest so he can wrap his arms securely around your waist. His hard bulge pressing against the underside of your stomach. You’re suddenly all too aware of how your panties have been sticking to your folds, pussy almost uncomfortable with how wet that scratchy lace is.

Mouth glistening with his saliva and face red, Taehyung heaves. His chest moves against yours, brows furrow when you tug at his ends again. “Tell me his name,” he orders through gasps. He rests his forehead against yours.

“Taehyung, I promise you I don’t remember. It was like a year ago and we, maybe, talked for like a week or two,” you whisper, practically pleading. “I swear, there’s no one else.”

A little sigh of relief fans over your face. He brushes his nose against yours. “He must’ve meant something. Why else would you keep,” he unwraps himself from your waist to curl his fingers into your bra, “this.” The lace tears from the seams with one sharp tug.

Clutching onto his shoulders, you throw your head back with a loud, boardline erotic moan. It’s all the fuel Taehyung needs for the envious fire in his heart to further rip the flimsy excuse of a bra right off you. Your breasts jiggle from the force, a hard nipple brushing against his chin.

Taehyung takes this as an invitation to play, catching it in his mouth. While his tongue swirls around the taut nub, teeth grazing it ever so slightly, his hands don’t waste a second, unzipping your skirt to reveal the matching panties.

“H-How can he mean something if-” you take a moment to swallow thickly and catch your breath, “if I can’t even remember his stupid name.”

He pauses, peering up at you. Hands frozen, cupping the underside of your ass, Taehyung bites down on your nipple and slowly tugs at it. “You remember that it’s stupid,” he notes, voice muffled. His tongue flicks at your nipple as he speaks.

In a moan all too desperate for your pride, you needily confess, “It’s stupid because it’s not yours.”

Your words must’ve ignited some other flame in his soul as he digs his fingers into your panties and tears them right off you. In one simple tug, the lace rips right off, running right against your clit. Your hips jolt right into his with a sob-like moan.

That one angry look in his eyes diminishes upon the sound of you so broken. Taehyung drops the wet, torn panties as he falls to his knees. He swings your leg over his shoulder and pulls up the upper part of your pussy, urgently examining the mess you’ve been creating since he walked in. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, warm breath fanning right over your heat.

You lean against his desk for some balance, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. You know the moment you vocalize your horniness, your body would take it as a sign to buck your hips right into his face. So, you simply shake your head instead.

His annoyed amusement returns once you silently reassure him that you’re okay. Smirk playing on his wet lips, he condescendingly asks, “Is there ever a time you don’t want me?”

Fuck, none of this is fair. He just yelled at you, accused you of being with someone else when he knows that he’s all you ever think about. He yelled and tore your only matching lingerie set to shreds. You didn’t keep it because some random guy gave it to you, but because it is all you have to look impressive and expensive when clothless. If he wasn’t such a dick about it, he would’ve known this.

“Keep my dick out of your mouth, Angel,” he spits. Your pussy quivers at the speckle saliva that lands over it.

Shit… You had no idea your thoughts had poured out. You had been adamant on keeping your mouth shut. He’s just so infuriating. He disrespected you just as much as he thinks you disrespected him.

And you had every intention of telling him this too until he adds, “You won’t even be able to fit it in there.”

Out of pure spite and the fact that you technically have the upper hand, with him being on his knees, you push your hips towards his mouth. He’s going to have a mouthful of you, you can’t help but think, tired of his unchecked cockiness.

It’s as if Taehyung knew you’d do that, however. He catches your hips, fingers imprinting into your skin with how tightly he holds you. Eyes darkening, he returns to his feet and towers over you yet again. He looks down at you from his nose, the righteousness of his posture seeping into his tone. “You’ve been a filthy, disobedient little slut,” he hisses. “Cumming without permission, wearing shit other fuckers bought you, raising your voice at me-”

“You yelled at me too!”

“Talking back,” he adds with a growl, gripping on you so hard now, it stings. Your pussy gushes all the more.

He notices the shiver of your thighs as they press together. Instead of verbally berating you for it, Taehyung turns your around and bends you over the desk. He pulls off whatever is left off your button-up shirt. You have no idea what you’re going to wear back for work. But, with Taehyung pulling your ass up by the grip on your hips, you deem your wardrobe the least of your worries.

Your cheek squishes against the cool glass, hands gripping onto the edge. He hasn’t done anything besides rub himself against your sopping pussy and massage the fat of your ass. That’s more than enough to make you whine for more, hips wiggling for more attention.

“You know what you deserve, Angel,” he groans, voice strained with arousal. As he rubs the flat of his hand against your right cheek, you know he’s not looking for an answer but, rather, a sound.

Taehyung smacks your ass hard, provoking an even louder moan out of you. Your body jolts forward, hips ramming into the edge of the desk. He spanks you a couple more times, right on the same spot, before finally rubbing the sting away. His hand feels hot against your skin, making you hiss and squirm all the more.

“D-Dadd- Shit, Daddy!” you cry out, having once thought the spanking was over only to receive the same harsh treatment on your other cheek.

“One for each mistake, Angel,” he explains, having finished his punishment. Hands massaging your shaking ass, he adds, “I’ve let you talk me into letting too much go.”

There isn’t much you can do besides hold onto the desk and drool all over his documents. Well, the files that remain on his desk anyway. Most of his work and stationary have met the floor with a loud crash and clatter. You should be sorry about that, about everything you happened to get away with before. But, it has all brought you to this position. And you’re not at all sorry for being bent over his desk like this, naked and bruised.

Taehyung slides his hands down and around your thighs. He props your hips up and begins to calculatively rub himself back against you, knowing you’re weak for him… for his cock. You haven’t seen it yet, but fuck do you think about it daily. There is not a moment that passes by that you don’t wonder just how big he is. Once spotting a ruler on Jackson’s desk, you tried to compare Taehyung’s cock to it from what you remember feeling. Having not seen it, it really didn’t give you much of a visual. Besides, the thin metal wasn’t even half of his width so it just really threw you off.

The buckle of his belt presses against your clenching hole, the only coolness you accept with the way his hard, huge bulge rubs against your throbbing clit. It almost hurts just how good it feels, making you wetter, needier. Your legs tremble, moans rising in pitch and pussy tightening emptily. You can feel yourself getting closer and you know that he knows it. So why is he so silent? In all the times Taehyung has played with you, he has never kept a single thought about how demeaning the position you’re in is and how he adores the way you revel in that fact.

You try not to think about it too much as your orgasm builds. He’s probably still annoyed that you haven’t apologized yet. He can’t really expect you to say anything with the way he is touching you though. You can barely even say his name, let alone choke out an apology.

Anyway, if anyone should apologize, it should be him. He’s the one that made a bigger deal out of something so irreverent. And-

“Daddy!” you screech when he halts his thrusts. On your toes, your body quakes with the anticipation of a near orgasm. Looking over your shoulder, annoyed gaze ready to glare, you find him smirking at you.

“You didn’t think you were really going to cum today, did you, Angel?” he teasingly asks. His hand slaps down on your ass, not as hard as they usually do, but with enough force to push your body forward.

You place your hands under you so you have more support when looking over your shoulder. “What are you-” your voice cinches in your throat when he parts your asscheeks. You peer up at him, eyes rounded and wide when you recognize that mischief in his gaze that always destroys you.

Hand cupping your sticky sex, Taehyung rubs you once, twice then bring his arousal-coated fingers to rub your pulsing asshole. You watch him hold your gaze as he circles the tiny hole. His pinky teasingly attempts to push in, greeted with immediate resistance. He chuckles, spitting a thick wad of saliva over the hole. “You need to relax.”

Your jaw drops, a silent gasp filling the near silence. What is he doing and why does it feel so good? The urge to cum returns but doesn’t surface without any stimulation. Can’t he just eat you out? You’d love to suffocate his face between your legs.

“I-I want to feel your tongue,” you whine in that voice he usually cannot resist.

Taehyung raises a brow as he shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he says in that rasp that only appears when he’s horny. “And you’ve been filthy, Angel. Do you know what filthy sluts like you get?”

“S-spanked?”

He smirks, “That’s right,” and pushes his pinky inside you again. There’s much less resistance this time. You assume he got you talking to distract you, using his saliva as lube to help insert his finger easier.

It feels foreign still, though. Foreign but full. Full and yet not full enough. Fuck, and it’s starting to… sting? A little whimper tumbles out of your lips as you try to tell him how it feels. It doesn’t particularly hurt.

“It-it doesn’t feel right,” you gasp.

Taehyung removes his finger immediately, thumb rubbing the slightly widened hole. Sighing, you lean down your elbow, quietly heaving.

Perhaps it's your irregular breathing or your exhaustion with nearly cumming, but Taehyung seems to take mercy on you. He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you up and into his chest. Tucking his chin on your shoulder, he cradles your body firmly against his in case your legs are too weak to maintain your balance.

“Are you okay, Angel?” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

You nod. It’s not enough.

Taehyung bites down on your earlobe.

You cannot hide your smile. Resting your arms over his, you melt into his embrace and reassure in the same whisper, “I’m fine.”

He kisses behind your ear and asks, “You know why I couldn’t let you cum, right, baby?”

The new nickname makes you hot all over. You bite your lip to keep all those giddy giggles scratching your throat at bay. When you nod, he presses more soft, wet kisses all over your neck before moving behind your ear again. He nuzzles his nose into your hair and inhales a breathful, quietly groaning.

You stay in his embrace for a moment or two longer, practically swaying to the beat of your erratic hearts. Head empty, all you can think about is him. From the feeling of his lips against your skin to his warm body pressed flush against yours. Though still slightly needy, you don’t mind ignoring that for a peaceful second with him. It’s a much better alternative to his closed off moods when he’s upset.

Then, Taehyung turns you around and sits you up on his desk. You’re sure he had other plans before his eyes landed on your body, with the way he held you with such purpose. He just stares now, though. Your bare breasts hold most of his attention.

It’s now that you realize, under his admiring gaze, that you’re completely naked in front of someone else for the first time. The urge to cross your legs and arms over yourself takes over. Taehyung furrows his brows up at you in confusion. You don’t blame him, knowing that he has seen every inch of you now. It still makes you hot all over, face burning with embarrassment. You can’t even meet his gaze anymore.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” he coos, hands on your shoulder. He gently soothes you with gentle strokes of his thumb. “Are you cold, hmm? Come here.” He pulls you into a tight hug, resting his chin over your head as he rubs your back.

You should probably tell him the truth, but being in his embrace is just so comforting. You wrap your arms and legs back around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Maybe you really were cold because being in his arms is incredibly warm. Fuck, how you wish you could just stay here forever.

As if reading your thoughts, EDEN announces, “Mr. Kim, your next meeting starts in five minutes.”

Taehyung sighs, thanking EDEN as he tries to pull away from you. Only, you hold onto him tighter. He laughs, petting your tousled hair back. The ripples of his laughter in his chest soothe every numb soreness of your body away. “We have to get back to work, Angel.”

You press your chin against his chest to look up at him. He smiles down at you as you pout, “You ripped my clothes. I can’t go back even if I wanted to.”

“Hey, your skirt is fine,” he tries to argue through a smug chuckle. You roll your eyes at how proud he is of himself.

The argument then returns to you and it suddenly becomes easier to untangle yourself from him. Taehyung must catch the shift in your face, pulling himself away too. He bends over and grabs your clothes and you wrap your arms around yourself again.

It’s so easy letting him in. At this point, you trust him wholeheartedly that it’s practically second nature. Outside of Mrs. Chu, Taehyung is the only person you can rely on in the city. No one else makes you feel the way he does either. No one else compares.

The way he behaves when he’s upset, however, cannot be excused. He promised he’d be more open about his annoyances too. Your stomach coils at how easily he just broke it. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so short with him, but that doesn’t mean he could speak to you the way he did.

Taehyung places the clothes beside you, careful not to linger his eyes over your body. “You’re upset,” he states as he tentatively meets your gaze.

“Aren’t you too?”

With a little quirk of his brow, Taehyung averts his gaze to the floor. “I was just… I don’t know,” he sighs after trailing off. He rubs the back of his neck and stands straighter. Meeting your gaze, he tries to explain again, confessing, “I hate the idea of someone else buying you things. I’m supposed to do that. When you wore that… I just didn’t like the idea of another man seeing you in it.”

You were following along until he reached the end of his sentence. Given how you’ve met, it makes sense that he likes to be the only one buying you things. In fact, that’s what he told you when he requested to be your exclusive sponsor. This desire to shower you with gifts is shown every time he purchases you something you didn’t explicitly ask for, like the pony or vibrator. However, this fixation on your past sponsors is really throwing you off.

With a tilt of your head, you ask, “What does that have to do with anything? So what if another has? Your exes have seen you naked.”

He licks his lips, eyes widening in the cutest way you’ve ever witnessed. Even his cheeks become fuller and it takes every morsel of strength not to pinch his cheek or kiss them. “I never wore something they bought me for you. I never stood here in briefs that they bought me. I would never disrespect you like that,” he explains, eyes glazing over. You think for a second that those are tears in his eyes, but he blinks too fast for you to decipher it.

It all makes sense now. Not only is it his role to purchase things for you and provide, but it's the idea that you’re flaunting an image that he believes was originally meant for someone else. Chewing on your lip, you realize your mistake and recklessness. That perception was just so far from your mind, you even didn’t think it could ever be a possibility.

“Taehyung, I had- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” you rush to say, hoping to soothe that hurt expression from his face. “I just kept it at the time because it was expensive and I put it on for you because I thought it was better than my bunny nightgown.”

A ghost of a smile tugs on one of the corners of his lips at the mention of your funny-looking pajamas. That pained look still swims in his gaze as he reverts it back to the floor. “It’s okay,” he shrugs, but you know it’s really not.

“No one has seen me the way you do, Tae,” you add in a mutter. He sneaks a peek up at you. “I stopped talking to him because he wanted me to send him pictures in the set even after I said no. I had to block him.”

Taehyung leans his hands on either side of you against the desk. He’s at eye level now, holding your gaze as he says with a tight-lipped smile, “Okay, now I really need a name.”

You quietly chuckle. He joins you, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you. You know better than to think he would. Instead, he stands back to his full height. Your smile fades, eyes falling to the floor.

A soft hand comes to caress your cheek. Taehyung gently guides your gaze back to his. “You didn’t know. It’s okay, Angel.”

You want to be relieved, but the weight of the argument still sits upon your heart. He still has some explaining to do. So, you don’t lean into his touch, remaining still as you say, “You broke your promise. And I wish it was just that.” You take a moment to breathe, inhales just as shaky as your exhales.

Taehyung leans down to meet your eye level. He listens patiently, in no rush to explain himself without hearing all you have to say first.

“Do I really distract you from your work because-”

“Mr. Kim, your meeting has started,” EDEN interrupts as if on cue.

Taehyung’s eyes widen at your pointed look. He tells EDEN to push it back for another ten minutes and makes clear orders not to be interrupted again. He squats down to meet your gaze again and silently waits for you to continue.

Sighing heavily, you pout and blink away your tears. He rests his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing up and down to soothe you.

“I already got my answer,” you mutter with a shake of your head.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Then, why did you say it?” you ask, raising your voice enough to make Taehyung flinch.

He furrows his brows. “Say what?”

“That thing about begging for you when you were in the middle of a meeting.”

Guilt overtakes his features. “That’s not how I meant it. I just wanted to make a point about you being needy. I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. You know I’d do anything for you, no obligations or questions asked,” he says. You aren’t ready to let it go yet, that is, until he adds, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

It’s all you needed to hear. Knowing that he’s apologetic and means what he says is all you ever need from him. Your conversations won’t weigh heavy with unresolved tensions of spoken and unspoken truths alike. You just hate it when he’s upset, more than when he’s angry. At least with the latter, he’s vocal and communicative, despite it being loud. The former is just a sea of uncertainty and silence.

A stray tear falls but Taehyung wipes it away before you can even reach for it. He presses his cheek against your knee with a sigh, rubbing your thighs. “Baby, don’t cry,” he coos, “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you whisper, sniffling and wiping your eyes to keep any other tears from shedding. You hadn’t even felt yourself tearing up. “I forgive you too. It’s fine, Tae.”

He stands up and pulls you into another hug. It’s softer than the first, warmer and more inviting. A tender kiss is pressed against the top of your head. Hands stroking your hair and back, he mutters, “I got you something.”

You pull away with a smile, eyes dazzling with intrigue. He chuckles as he reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk. Three lingerie sets dangle before you. One a chiffon white, decorated with pink bows. The bra comes with a g-string and is more like a tiny crop top, squared with puffy, short sleeves that are meant to fall off your shoulder. Another is a one piece, soft blue, lacey and crotchless. The last is perhaps your favourite though. It's a silky, light pink bra with matching, cheeky panties that you’re sure will show more ass than they should.

“Do you like them?” he asks with a smile.

All you can do is eagerly nod, at a loss for words. He chuckles at your excitement.

“Which one do you want to wear now?”

You blink at him, pausing. Did you hear that right? You look between the three sets and tilt your head. He didn’t just ask you which you’d like to wear now. You have work and so does he. As much as you’d love to stay here, you know that you’ll most likely be fired if you don’t return before your lunch break is over.

“I should get going,” you say, trying to scoot off the desk.

Taehyung breathes a confused chuckle. “I know, Angel. You can’t walk around without a bra or panties. Which one did you want to wear?”

Your face flushes at your misunderstanding. Nervously giggling, you mumble, “Oops,” and point at the pink one. “This one, please.”

He smirks. “I knew it,” he mutters under his breath.

“You did not.”

“Did too,” he argues in the same whiny tone you use, helping you off the desk. He tosses the sets on it instead. Then he unhooks the pink bra from it’s hanger.

Amusement wavering, you realize he’s going to dress you. His hands move over your skin gently, like he didn’t bend you over his desk minutes ago and roughly teased you against it. The bra goes on first. The silk is cool to the touch, hardening your nipples. He smiles at the sight while clasping it in place. Licking his lips, you watch him resist the urge to put it in his mouth.

Taehyung’s self control trembles when he helps you into your panties. His gaze lingers on your arousal slick pussy at first, then your ass as you bounce into the silk underwear. He groans, fingers tracing the hem around to your stomach as he turns your around. His wet, slack covered bulge meets your ass. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers into your ear. Grabbing a handful of your still sore asscheek, he continues, “I’m gonna be thinking about this all fucking day.”

A moan escapes you and you wonder if maybe you can convince him to let you stay. But, the reminder of your job already hanging by the thinnest thread returns to you like heartburn. Pouting, you lean your head back against his shoulder and whine, “I don’t want to go.”

Taehyung mimics it, replying in a voice similar to yours, “I don’t either.”

You playfully roll your eyes, giggling when he shoves his face in the crook of your neck and blows raspberries against your sensitive skin. You squirm right out of his hold and he begins to laugh too. That smile, though already big and boxy, widens when his eyes fall on your silk covered body.

“Get your skirt on before I rip that off you too,” he says, forcing himself to backpedal away from you.

It’s so tempting to say no and walk around his office in the little outfit he bought you. Time is not your friend today, however. So, you do as you’re told.

Once you’ve hopped into your skirt, Taehyung hands you his long coat. “This should cover you well for the day,” he explains when you tilt your head at him. Then, he helps you into it and buttons it up for you. It’s a size too big and you assume it must be because he prefers oversized clothing. The garments are never quite able to swallow his frame though. Either way, you rather a size too big, than one too small.

Your eyes fall on your work laptop, the reason for your visit, as you thank him. “Fuck, I need this,” you say reaching for it.

Taehyung grabs it before you can. “It’s not getting fixed today. This is at least a couple of days worth of work. EDEN?”

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

“Have reception get Angel a new laptop on her way out,” he orders as he walks you to the door.

You can already see the smoke coming out of Marina’s ears when you walk in wearing Taehyung’s jacket and holding one of his laptops. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you whisper-yell, panic in your eyes and voice.

“Everyone in that company is supposed to have one of my laptops since I invested. You shouldn’t have that shitty one at all. If anyone is going to be fired, it’s the person who gave it to you,” Taehyung reassures.

“I don’t think that’s how they’ll see it.”

He nods, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Tae-”

“Trust me,” he smiles, cutting you off.

You cannot deny that charming grin, having tried and failed before. Giving in, you sigh and nod. “Just don’t make it too big a deal, okay? I want to handle my job myself.”

Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes, but nods in understanding. He walks you down to reception, smile fading the moment he opens the door. You assume his work persona has taken over and decide that the time for speaking has ended.

The circular desk of reception comes into view when Taehyung stops and turns to face you. He shifts his weight, hands clasped behind him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks nervous. You quirk a brow, about to ask him what’s wrong when he says, “Are you busy next weekend?”

Next weekend, you wonder, the weekend of Thanksgiving. Your eyes widen once you finally connect the dots. Shaking your head, you reply, “No. Well, I mean, Mrs. Chu and I always just spend it together but she’s going to visit her daughter this year so I’m pretty much free.”

He bites down on his lip to keep from laughing at your nervous rambling. It seems like the tables have turned because suddenly, he’s not the one so uncertain anymore. “Do you want to come with me to my grandparents?” he asks. “They always make way too much food.”

Working hard to keep your squealing excitement in your head, you simply nod. Taehyung brushes back the strands that fall over your face. The gesture soon turns into him combing your hair back, fixing it after having tousled it, playing with you in his office. “I’ll pick you up around noon on Friday.”

“I have wor-”

“No, you don’t,” he corrects with a little chuckle. “I’ve already taken care of it.”

Your breath hitches and, though you pray he wouldn’t, Taehyung catches it. As he searches your face, you try to remain calm. Your heart simply flutters with the implication that he planned this trip around bringing you there with him. Possibly even while he was upset. He still wanted you there.

Resisting your excitement to a tight-lipped smile, you slowly nod.

He tries to hide his own and gestures to the desk with a tilt of his head. “Text me when you get back, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Taehyung smiles and stares for a moment. Shoving his hands in his pockets of slacks that are still wet with your essence, he says, “Bye, Angel.”

You simply wave him off, too scared to refer to him as Daddy outside of the safe, four walls of his office. Being without it doesn’t sit well with you, however. So, after grabbing the new laptop and exiting the building, you open up your chat in the app.

[angelcake] : Bye, Daddy. Thx for your help.

A pair of wings and a black heart pop up immediately.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #v smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #networkbangtan

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inkedtae · 3 years

Text

vi. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

chapter six : buzz off ⤑ taehyung sends you a gift. you call him for help.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 4.1k

⌁ warnings; mentions and depictions of vaping, mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, possessiveness, phone sex, use of sex toy, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, corruption kink, dirty talk, jealousy, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, degradation, oragsm control, teasing, gagging, begging, cum tasting

⌁ le playlist

ও as always a hundred thanks to cam ( @sunshinejunghoseokie ) for the pretty, pretty banner!! a million and one thanks to all my betas sammy ( @chateautae ), eva ( @nottodayjjk ) and kiki ( @uhgood-dooghu ) for always coming through for me and reading every chapter to make sure i don’t make a fool of myself sdjfh. love you babes 🥺💖

[angelcake] : i mean it looks fun online.

[V] : still watching and never touching?

[angelcake] : i don’t have one to use so i could touch, sherlock.

[angelcake] : you’d think the guy that graduated from MIT at 17 would know that.

[V] : ah still thinking about me, aren’t you?

[angelcake] : buzz off.

Last night’s conversion returns to you as you read those two words written neatly on a piece of Bangtan Industries stationary. The card sits beside the small toy on your bed. Laying on your stomach, you’ve been staring at the damned thing since you pulled it out of the box. You’ve read and reread the instructions, already connected the controls through bluetooth on your phone but still cannot manage to just use it.

Taking it in your hands, you examine the butterfly-shape. You had mentioned only the day before that you spotted a butterfly on your way back from work and shared with him how much you love them. In true Taehyung fashion, he made sure to include that in his next grand gesture.

It’s just as well because, as you’ve read from the instructions, this is a beginners toy. The pink rubber wrapped “wings” are somewhat foldable for easy insertion and the vibration that buzzes all the way to make it flap is not too intense.

The size of it is even manageable, you think. As it lays in your palm, you consider the width of the wingspan. It’s not even barely the size of Taehyung - a detail you know from the burning imprint of his cock against you only a few days ago. You remember so well that he’s just too big. Your pussy wasn’t even able to properly consider him.

A giggle escapes you despite the bite of your lip. It's just so hard not to get excited when Taehyung roams around between memories in your head. The same thing happens when you see his name pop up on your phone. How can you not smile when he’s texting to ask about you and your day and if you're okay?

Your pussy aches for him. Wetting your inner thighs, your arousal pools at your entrance and sticks to your skin. It’s the cost of not wearing panties at home.

Sitting back on your knees, you decide enough is enough. Your clit is throbbing at this point and you need that stimulation you’re not so fucking addicted to all because of him. He’s given you the chance not to wait too long for his touch, the chance to live out that fantasy you are always finding online. You once saw a video of a guy having tied his girl up, her lower half only on camera as she chases after the toy he hovers over her pussy. She could barely move her hips, still she tries.

All you can think about in that moment is Taehyung. Taehyung and his dark chuckle. Taehyung and his expensive cologne as he leans over you and tells you to stay fucking still like the good girl he knows you are. Taehyung and his large hands petting your thighs to ensure you follow through with his orders.

Why couldn’t he deliver this in person? Why didn’t he just call you and tell you how to work it, even if it did come with instructions?

You eye your phone. He hasn’t replied to your good morning text yet and it's well past noon. He’s busy.

Still, you want him.

Picking up your phone, your thumb hovers over the Sugar Rush app icon, then his name, then the keyboard. You hesitate, unsure if you should bother him or not. The message ends up writing itself.

[angelcake] : daddy i need help.

Taehyung’s name glows a dark green as he immediately pops online.

[V] : What is it, Angel? Are you okay?

You can always tell how serious he is over text by how accurate his grammar becomes.

[V] : Here's my number. Call me now.

Though you already have his number, he sends it anyway, knowing it would be faster to just click on it to call rather than switch between apps.

“Are you hurt?”

His voice rushes with urgency, carrying worry. You can just see the crinkle of his brows as they furrow and that scowl tightening his generous lips.

Gulping, you reassure him, “Everything is fine.”

“Are you hurt?” he repeats, louder, slower.

“No, Tae, I’m fine. I promise. I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, though there is a hint of fear in your voice. He just spoke with such… intensity. With the phone pressed to your ear, every ripple of his deep voice resonated right to your clit. You press your legs together as he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” there is a soft click of a door in the background, “what is it you need help with, Angel?” He speaks a bit freer. You assume he must’ve snuck away into his office.

“Are you busy?” you ask instead.

You can hear the smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he dismisses your question, “That doesn’t matter. What is it, Angel?”

Having accompanied him a handful of times, you know what he’d be doing if he was sitting in front of you right now, saying those words. He’d pull you into his lap and brush your hair back as he listened. Then, he’d tease you and laugh and make you cum in a quick blur. You always find those moments indistinctly intertwined when looking back.

But even without these images, the soothing, alluring tone of his voice disarms your doubts and worries. You sit comfortably on your bed, smiling down to yourself as you say, “So, I got your gift.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Oh, you need help starting it,” he arrogantly guesses. That amused hint that always glints in his eyes flashes before you.

“Well…” you trail off, not really sure how to explain it. Taehyung is patient, waiting silently as you gather your thoughts. “Sort of? I don’t know. I mean, I think I know how it works. It’s just- I just feel like it’s not going to work.”

“It should already be charged, Angel.”

“No, not the... um… toy,” you swallow thickly, face going hot all over. Why the hell is that so hard for you to say? You were only just talking about it last night. Trying again, you sigh then plead, “I, um- Daddy, just please help me.”

You hear a shift over the phone, a little squeak of a chair. He must’ve sat up in his seat. “You have to talk to me, honey. What isn’t going to work? Why are you so worried? I think it comes with instructions, Angel. Did you read them?”

The soft delicacy of his tone cradles your worries away enough to make you pout. The urge to nuzzle against his chest, hide your face in the crook of his neck and simply remain engulfed in his warmth is strong enough to make you shiver without it.

Playing with the hem of your nightgown, you practically whine, “Three times.” You take a moment to let out a heavy sigh, to which Taehyung breathes a smirk - you just know it. “I just… I just don’t think I’m going to… finish,” you finally confess after another round of hesitance.

“Aw, Angel,” Taehyung coos. His voice against your ear almost makes you feel like he’s actually here, whispering into it and kissing the shell the way he knows you adore. “Do you really not touch yourself at all when you’re alone?”

You pause… a little too long.

Taehyung poorly stifles his laughter.

“Shut up,” you whine half-heartedly. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point? How am I going to help you?”

“I, um… I just don’t know where to put it,” you lie.

There’s that smirk again. A single breath over the phone and you can hear it so distinctly. “Those videos online haven’t taught you much?”

You should have known he’d be smug about this. You should have known he’d tease you relentlessly. He’s not here for you to shove your breasts against him and peer at him innocently the way you always do to get under his skin. Taehyung is always more merciful when you act too desperate not to be taken care of.

Then, you remember how well your voice does too. When you lighten your tone and speak slower, in a prominent pout, he melts right into you. Summoning that innocence once more, you say, “Won’t you please help me use it, Daddy?”

There is the slightest hitch of his breath. Then total silence. One, two, three beats pass before you hear his lips part. Something about that little tsk when he’s about to speak tells you he’s not totally defenceless to you just yet. So you add a few good whimpers, making a show of shifting around on your bed.

“Switch the call to video,” he orders defeatedly. A hint of excitement still lingers in his words.

You squeal a little giggle, earning an exaggerated sigh over the phone. He’s too cute, you can’t help but think as you lean the phone against the short frame at the foot of the bed. You’re about to change the call to video when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Tousled bed head and a bunny-printed nightgown stare back at you.

“Just a second,” you call out, rushing off your bed and running a comb through your hair. You add a light layer of mascara and lipgloss too for good measure. He hasn’t seen you without your makeup just yet. And, though you are not particularly insecure about how you look, you rather this very sexual moment not be the first time he sees you without your usual glam.

That nightgown is the next to go. You’re stumped on what to replace it with, rummaging through your drawers loud enough to hear Taehyung ask, “Everything alright?”

“Yup,” you immediately shout back. “Be right there.”

Red lace catches your eye in the back of your bottom drawer. Pulling it out, you find a bra and panty set, the tag still on. Examining it, you try to remember where the hell- oh, yes! One of your earlier sugar daddies on the app had sent it to you as a gift, in hopes that you’d wear it for him. That interaction barely lasted a week but when you saw the amount of zeroes on the price tag, you decided to keep the lingerie set just in case.

After struggling to put it on, you glance one last time at your reflection. The red sits so well on you, you’re almost too shy to show Taehyung. And, yet, that excites you all the more. He told you last time that simply watching you walk makes him lose his mind. You wonder what this would do.

The bed squeaks as you climb upon it. You grab your phone and switch the call to video. The camera shows you from the chin up, making Taehyung smile. He’s sitting back on his office chair, leaning against one of his arm rests with a finger in his mouth.

“What took you so long, Angel? I thought you were desperate.”

You raise a brow. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to,” he smirks before grabbing his vape pen with his free hand and taking a puff. “Sit back and spread your legs for me, Angel,” he orders through the smoke.

Moving to the head of the bed, you arrange your pillows comfortably behind you before sitting back. Taehyung smokes, smirking as he watches. You use one of your stuffed animals as something to lean your phone against.

That smirk falls when the camera finally captures your outfit, or rather lack thereof. His jaw soon drops, smoke just pouring out with some drool as you spread your legs. For a little while, it’s just his hungry gaze devouring you and your meek frame lounging back patiently. You’ve always been happy to be his meal.

His cocky persona reboots soon, however. Blinking repeatedly, Taehyung snaps himself out of his daze as licks his lips. “Did you buy this just for Daddy, Angel?” he condescendingly asks.

Your legs press together as you shyly hide behind your knees. He coos between little fits of laughter, his face the picture of pity at your innocence. “Do you like it, Daddy?” He’s in the middle of nodding, tongue twisting between his teeth while he smirks, when you add, “It was a gift.”

Taehyung pauses. Jaw tightening, he raises a brow. “A gift?” he questions. “From who?”

The memory of him rubbing himself against you last week flashes in your mind. That simple, buffered conversation with Marco was enough to make something primal snap within him. He was jealous from a mere look. So, you know that telling him another man bought you a lingerie set will not end well. But, you know lying to him won’t work either. Taehyung has always been able to read right through you.

“No one important,” you shrug, not particularly lying. Leaning over the camera to grab your new vibrator, you quickly change the subject. “So can you please help me with this, Daddy?”

There is a momentary gleam of anger in his gaze that Taehyung immediately blinks away. Schooling his features to be brighter, he cracks a smile and nods. “Hold it to your clit like a good girl,” he says casually, reaching for his phone on the table.

You furrow your brows, slightly confused. “You have two phones?”

One must be for business, you tell yourself, then pray for that to be the truth.

His smile widens as he shakes his head, “No, Angel. I’m just using my laptop to talk to you.”

A relieved sigh leaves you. Taehyung catches it, that usual amusement overtaking his expression.

Eager to escape his smug stare, you press the vibrator over your already stained panties and ask, “Should I turn it on?”

“I’ll do that, Angel.” The furrow of your brows tips him off to your confusion. “I programmed it to my phone before sending it to you, just in case you need help down that line. Who knew you’d come begging before even starting?”

You playfully glare. “I didn’t beg,” you clarify. “I just asked-Ah!”

Suddenly, light buzzes pressed snugly against your throbbing bundle of nerves make you jolt. Taehyung inhales another sip of smoke as he watches with such a compelling degree of arrogance, you can’t look away from him no matter how badly you try. Staring through the smoke that somewhat clouds his face, you bite your lip and roll your hips against the toy.

“Take the panties off.” He tosses the order casually, like he just asked you to grab him something from the kitchen. “I want to see how wet you are.”

Hesitant to remove the toy at first, you had every intention of keeping those panties on and further pressing the vibrations against you. But his words only make you wetter and the thought of showing him just how wet makes your toes curl. Setting the toy aside, you lean over a bit and bring your legs together. Your panties are drenched, rolling into themselves as you pull it off.

“Can you put them in your mouth for me, Angel? Oh, yes, that’s my good girl. How do you taste? Just as sweet as usual?” he asks with a little smile.

You suck your arousal out of the lace, eyes rounded as you shyly peer up at him. When you nod, he chuckles a bit to himself.

He rubs the tip of the pen against his lip, adding, “And spread those legs. Lemme see.”

The butterfly dully buzzes beside you as you spread your legs. You’ve barely been touched, but your breathing is irregular enough to be heard over the phone and pussy wet enough to string stickily to your thighs.

Taehyung leans in, resting his arms over the desk as he admires your wetness. He licks his lips and smirks, “Tell me the truth, were you playing with yourself before calling?”

You immediately shake your head.

An astonished sigh escapes him. He takes a moment of silence, save for the quiet buzzing beside you, to just gaze at how you clench. His fingers somewhat scratch against the table, lip tucked between his teeth and chewed.

Leaning back on your palms, you huff a little whine. Your impatience flickers his gaze ever so slightly up. That smirk resurfaces.

“Rub the butterfly against that mess, Angel,” he nods, sitting back in his seat.

You grab the toy by the long rubber antennas, little balls decorating the tip, and do as you’re told. Your hips roll every time those little vibrations tickle your clit. Little gasps of moans tumble out of you, head rolling back. You’re thankful he had you gag yourself, the thin fabric of your panties muffling your voice enough not to wake Mrs. Chu from her nap in the other room.

Taehyung’s silence forces your attention back to the screen. Elbow resting on the arm of the chair, finger pointed near his raised brow, Taehyung watches you slowly get yourself off with a smirk and some smoke. There is a hint of amused mischief in his gaze that makes you shudder, jolting against the toy uncontrollably. That must’ve been enough for him because that free hand disappeared under his desk. Picking up his phone, he asks, “What were you thinking about?”

The buzzing intensifies. You hold the toy steady to your clit now, obsessed with the way it hums against it. “D-Daddy,” you regrettably stutter around the panties. Your voice is still muffled but Taehyung makes out the syllables all the same.

And then he laughs, patronizing you as he says, “That’s adorable, Angel. Thinking about Daddy makes you this wet?” Smoke swirls around him as he sits back and gazes. An unseen superiority gleams through the haze.“What about Daddy? Come on, Angel, you have to tell me now.”

Biting down hard on the lace, you swallow a moan. What the fuck are you supposed to tell him? That you think about every interaction you’ve ever had and before you know it, you’re a needy, sopping mess? If the simple indication that it is his fault has him so cocky, then specifics will snap something dangerous within him. He will tease. You know he will. And he’ll mock you in that sexy way he always does, until you scream and beg and you can’t afford that kind of experience right now. Any other day, you’d play right into his hand, but Mrs. Chu cannot walk in on you like this.

No matter how hot it would be to get caught.

Taehyung’s eyes darken. Your silence is not appreciated. The buzzing grows faster, those little wings of the butterfly now flapping from the intensity. Holding it by the width instead of length, you receive much better pay off. The wings now lay light slaps against your pussy as they vibrate. Another moan climbs your throat and escapes before you can stop it.

“If you’re going to be a disobedient slut, you, at the very least, need to keep your eyes open,” Taehyung loudly hisses.

You open your eyes, not even registering that you’ve closed them, to find him glaring at you. “So-rry,” you whimper around the lace.

Taehyung dryly scoffs. “You will be,” he seethes.

When the fuck did he get so mad? All you did was not answer one question. Just one. Why- Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Daddy!” you cry, eyes snapping to your closed door in horror. You don’t hear a stir in the hallway, but the volume of your voice and aspiration of your tone is alarming enough.

Why must he turn up the intensity without warning you? Those wings now practically smack your pussy, your clit and clenching hole receiving the same boundless, ruthless treatment of non stop stimulation. Your legs shake, lifting off the bed as you lean completely back into your pillows. Even still, body trembling and legs standing tall over you, your gaze remains on Taehyung.

He stares with a tightened jaw and angry eyes. That hand under his desk moves fast as a little clink of metal sounds. His chest rises and falls heavily, brows furrowed and shoulders rigid. The hand clutching onto his phone trembles.

“Who bought that for you?” he asks again.

Oh, is that what this harsh treatment is about? You spit the panties out, praying you’ll be able to keep yourself quiet enough as you reply, “I-I to-ld you-”

“I want a fucking name!” he shouts, falling back in his chair.

The sheer volume of his voice makes you cower, tucking your chin into your chest and shyly peering at him. A little groan escapes him. It coaxes a string of whimpers from you. “I-” you start only to cut yourself off when he glares. “I don’t know. I-I don’t remem-ber.”

That’s not a good enough answer. Not to Taehyung. The vibrator hits what you believe is its highest setting, jumping to a speed unknown to man. You have to use your entire hand to cup the thing in place as it buzzes, smacking and humming against your most sensitive spots. He’s crazy if he thinks you’ll be able to keep your eyes open now. Screwing them shut, you throw your head back and let out a string of dry sobs.

“Look at me,” he growls.

“I ca-ca-n’t!”

“You will.”

It’s the depth of his voice. It’s the way it always makes your heart fall and stew in the pit of your stomach, using that rough rasp as the only source of comfort. That’s what snaps your head back to the phone. That’s what makes you summon the last shred of willpower to pry your eyes open and meet his hungry, annoyed gaze. That’s the only thing that makes you obedient, you tell yourself.

Because it’s not the way you’re about to cum for him. It’s not the way his relentless jealousy feeds into the most toxic part of your soul. And it’s most definitely not the way you are obsessed with how much he possessively cares.

“Give me a name,” he whispers, much less aggressive.

You profusely shake your head, about to tell him you really don’t remember when he cuts you off.

“Angel, give me a fucking name,” he seethes, his hand knocking against his desk in rhythmic bumps. “Or you won’t cum at all.”

“But, I-I re-ally- Daddy, please!” you whine, your orgasm quickly growing.

Taehyung lowly growls, but doesn’t utter another word. He just stares as you whine and whine his name.

“Please, Daddy, Da-Daddy!” You can’t manage to form another word, your mind almost broken with the hyperawareness that you’re oh so fucking close. “I do-don’t- Fuck, Daddy, I can’t!”

He shakes his head. “A name.”

“Daddy!”

You cum. And you shake. And you almost fall off your bed, trying not to make it so obvious that you’ve cum. But with the tight curl of your toes and hyper-extension of your legs, how the hell is he not to know? It doesn’t help at all that your jaw falls open and both eyes twitch before rolling back with the throw of your head. Your pillows engulf you, covering your face as your back arches.

Taehyung huffs a growl, then a string of curses. There is a clatter on the other side of the call, but you don’t catch it, too consumed by your orgasm. Blood rushes to your head, clogging your ear with the rush enough to stunt your hearing for a few moments.

You so wish that in the midst of all this, you at the very least had the chance to catch your breath. However, when cinching your voice at the base of your throat, you’ve also blocked your airway and thus cut yourself off from oxygen. You’re gasping loudly for air by the time you think you’re would-be-screaming moan subsides.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Taehyung shouts. The thumping under his desk has stopped.

Tossing the toy off you, it’s stimulation all too much to handle now, you pull your legs together and mutter in weak whimpers, “I tried. I tried not to,” you slowly push yourself up, “I tried to not cum, Daddy. It-It was hard. It felt-”

Your phone screen is dark. You tap on it, the lock screen flashing to life. When you log in, you find the call has disconnected from his end.

The buzzing soon ceases.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#kim taehyung smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #networkbangtan

734 notes · View notes

inkedtae · 3 years

Text

ii. only you ⇾ kth. [M]

chapter two ⇾ he’s haunted by the past. but time stops when he’s with you.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; tsundere!taehyung x reader (f.), and a hint of sope

⌁ genre/rating; series, s2l, soulmate au, fluff, angst, smut, 18+

⌁ word count; 9.9k

⌁ warnings; tsundere!taehyung (tae is kinda mean to reader and other people he cares about because he’s awkward and doesn’t know how to express his love), dom!taehyung, slightly possessive!taehyung, mullet/ponytail/longhair!taehyung, artist!taehyung, massive dicc!taehyung, ass enthusiast!taehyung, sub!reader, bratty!rader, publisher!reader, mentions of death (not explicit), mild depictions of grieving (not explicit), mentions and consumption of cigarettes, mentions and consumption of alcohol, mentions of masturbation, morning sex, rough sex, sixty-nine, stretch mark kink, bulge kink, praise kink, scent kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, throat bulge, oral (m. and f. receiving), throat fucking, deep throating, cockwarming, thigh riding, spanking, biting, choking, manhandling, ball worshipping, body worshipping, hair pulling, cum eating, cum play, spit lay, nipple play, breast play

⌁ le playlist

Ღ special thanks to my betas @kkulmoon, @nottodayjjk, and @uhgood-dooghu for taking the time to read my crappy draft and make sure i do not embarrass myself when i finally post lol. and a million thanks to @amoratentla for making this incredible banner all those moons ago!

Vante, Spring 1920

Wet snow, half melted in the chill of night, sludges and spats beneath his feet. The dirt of the puddled streets rim the cuffs of his pant legs. It makes him shiver all over, even when wrapped with a long coat he can’t afford. He’d hoped for a warmer night - a foolish thought on a foolish quest. With every step, he wonders if all this is worth another night of aimless wandering. He paces old streets of old friends entertaining the same old parties without him for an old market that could, for all he knew, simply be an old myth. As an automobile dashes by, splashing more of the street onto him, Taehyung remembers that there’s nothing left to lose to accurately judge the worth of this quest.

Distant trumpets tug his attention to the art gallery on the other side of the intersection. The lively tone of the opening, patrons spilling in and out of the doors in stumbles and slurs illuminate the block. Taehyung knows the glamourous filter glistening upon their faces too well. Momentary panic arrests his heart as a group of familiar artists draw nearer, the brightest face being the most threatening. He could greet him, pretend to be unfazed, but something within him knows that this conversation won’t begin with a simple hi. Instead, an oh will leave both of them. Taehyung would struggle to explain why he’s standing alone, wet and brooding across their old place. His once-friend would cast him a look all too arrogant and humour the explanation long enough to escape it. Then, he’d watch them all leave with their mismatched steps and laugh about how stupid they all had once been to have been friends with him.

“Francis, enough,” one of the stumblers hollars as they reach the middle of the intersection.

Enough is about all Taehyung has had with tired memories. He turns around, done with the entirety of the street, done with wondering how he even got this far on foot, and rushes down the alley between a garage and a tiny convenience store he’d frequently taken in high school. Relief escapes him in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he hears them slither by without a mention of him. They haven’t seen him, yet shame and humiliation pokes his pride.

Taehyung leans against the wall, lighting a cigarette for comfort. He can still hear his grandfather’s voice and feel the smack upside his head as he takes his second drag.

“Where’d you pick up such a nasty habit?” he’d always ask.

Stress calls for any release, Taehyung thinks to himself now. Or maybe just anything worse to make its pain less lonely.

Lonely. The word stings. Taehyung almost winces as he blows out another puff of distraction. In the company of guilt, regret and dis-ease, Taehyung is never alone but simply lonely.

With another taste of the cigarette, Taehyung wonders what you might be like? Are you an artist, too? Do you dance in your seat when you eat something particularly delicious, laugh uproariously when you fall? Do you love the way the sun shimmers pink in the evenings, how the moon still tries to glow at dusk? He’s tried one too many times to draw you, do you know that? Will you know that? If he wrote you a letter tonight, will you read it in the stars years later?

Taehyung drops his burnt cigarette, stepping out the embers, when a flickering glow shyly casts upon his shoes. He peaks a glance down the alley to find it’s not an alley at all. Bodies in a rush, the market calls upon him in every which way. He looks up and down the same alley he’d hurried down hundreds of times as a teenager, curious as to why it would lead him to anything other than home now.

A laugh slips past his lips, hands shove into his pockets, and he navigates his way between other desperate souls in search of something they cannot typically find at the bottom of a champagne bottle or a checkbook.

Musicians play a new song each block, small shops showcase a new product with every new glance, and vendors shout at patrons, sometimes at each other too, much to Taehyung’s amusement. No one seems very fazed by the interactions, the constant urge to buy here and now. For a midnight market, it’s rather energetic. Gaslit street lights and eternally burning candles bring every word and step to life.

Though tempting, Taehyung keeps his mind on his intentions. He pushes past the crowd, the suddenly hopeful faces leaving shops. One glance at his pocketwatch reflects limited time, and he wishes he found the market when it opened. With less than ten minutes left, and soon approaching the last block, he feels almost cheated. He’d told the last six shop owners the same stupid line to no avail. His disappointment colours his features, furrowed brows and scowl losing the patience to ignore the sellers that keep attempting to convince him rather loudly that he needs wherever they are selling.

“You look like you need a smoke,” a voice calls at the top of the seventh block.

Taehyung turns to a man in an emerald suit, leaning against a rather empty store. He has kind eyes, Taehyung notes. They somewhat remind him of his grandfather. No sound nor light bleeds through the fogged windows. The chipped sign hanging above him is stained with smog. “I think you’ve had plenty for the both of us,” he replies, still eyeing the sign.

The man only laughs. “That’s a new one,” he smiles. “No one’s said that yet.”

Though confused, Taehyung’s rather pleased with himself. He adjusts his coat, turning his head to look up the street as he fights off a smirk. The life within all the other shops only draws his attention back to the man and his broken shop. He parts his lips to ask why this store remains dead when he stops himself. Perhaps it’s rather rude to question how the old man lost his business, to even assume that it is indeed his business and not some place he simply stood to rest. This is a long market, afterall. Taehyung himself is starting to feel the effects of the endless walk.

“It’s fine,” the man suddenly reassures, drawing Taehyung from his thoughts. “Go on and ask.”

Taehyung gives him a questioning look.

The man smiles. “I can’t show you if you don’t ask.”

Show? It can’t be. His luck has never been so fortunate. But the man is staring back at him - patiently, expectantly, and all while absentmindedly patting down his grey peppered beard.

Taehyung draws in a breath and, in the steadiest voice he can manage, requests, “So show me.”

“I’ll show you.”

The wood creaks to life as dust blows away with the wind. Shattered windows repair and display shiny trinkets in velvet casings. Candles spark within. The rusted chains of the sign whine in their renewal, and whatever had sullied the old thing before wipes right off. The script written in a glowing blue flickers to read: Magic Shop.

The shop owner leads the way, Taehyung’s careful steps aren’t too far behind. After the ring of the bell above the door, a faint melody dances around the silence. Mismatched shelves stock mismatched merchandise for every desire… he’d ever had. Eyes curious, Taehyung stands by the door and catches glimpses of his previous wishes. The tasteless potions for his once desired height and weight shimmer and stare back at him. From the perfect easel to sticks of gum that never lose their flavour, from marble floors to green walls, every detail of the shop tailors to his preferences.

Walking towards the window, Taehyung spots a polished violin. His fingers hover over the strings, the temptation to strum one hard to ignore. One timid touch, however, is enough to have the instrument play itself. Taehyung jumps at the loud chords, wincing at the harsh notes that cut through the once peaceful melody that filled the shop.

A thump behind him silences the violin and it falls back into its place. Taehyung throws a glance over his shoulder to find the shop owner sitting behind his desk. He’s balanced himself oddly on the leather stool with his legs up on the table top and back leaning against the wall. Hat over face, the shop owner shifts the cane from its standing position to laying in his lap. Taehyung hadn’t noticed the cane before. Had he been holding it outside too? The black speckled ink around the handle gives Taehyung pause.

“That’s not yours.”

The shop owner doesn’t peek under his hat until Taehyung reaches his desk. He glances down at the cane on his lap and says, “No, it’s not. I am simply a collector, sir.”

The ease of his tone unsettles Taehyung. He doesn’t care for the possession of the object nor his person. He doesn’t belong to anyone just as that cane admittedly does not belong to the man behind the desk.

“Hand it over then.”

“Are you sure?”

Of course, Taehyung wants to say. His words dissipate the moment they reach the tip of his tongue, however. That’s his grandmother’s cane. He can picture her clutching onto it as she lays to rest. How this owner had collected it, Taehyung would never know. He’s certain that she would want him to retrieve it, though. So, why is it so hard to confirm that?

The shop owner smirks. “This isn’t what you came here for.” Dropping his legs and sitting up on the stool, he continues, “Unless, you’d like to take the cane and be on your way ou-”

“No.” Taehyung eyes the cane. The possibility of you whispers his unsteady heart to ease. “I- Is she- um- soulmates.” He finally says. “I am looking for my soulmate. I heard that if you don’t have one then they were born in a different lifetime.”

The shop owner chuckles, “I can’t take you back.”

“She’s back?”

The hope in Taehyung’s voice must’ve unsettled the man. His smile slowly falls and he looks at Taehyung, in his wet clothes and curls slicked back, as if looking at him for the first time. Taehyung wonders if all this magic is a scam, if all these shop owners are feeding on desperate souls.

Standing up, the shop owner asks, “What’s your name?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“A Kim?”

“Yes, sir.”

The shop owner mutters something about this being his third Kim and almost reaching the end of the line as he walks around the desk. Taehyung, against the voice within telling him to call it a night and go back home, follows after the magical muttering man. He pulls out a ring of seven keys and counts down to the sixth one once he approaches a polished, oak china cabinet. He unlocks one of the drawers, pulls it open then begins to sift through framed canvases. “Ah,” he sighs before pulling out a golden frame.

Taehyung stumbles back when the shop owner pushes the frame into his hands and ushers him back to the front desk. “You’re a painter, right? Huh, thought so-” he casts a glance over his shoulder at Taehyung’s outfit. “You must paint yourself in there.”

“Paint myself in?”

The man pulls out a pack of cigarettes once he reaches the desk. “Never done a self-portrait before?” he asks while offering a cigarette.

Taehyung politely rejects it with a wave as he answers, “No, no, I have. It’s just-”

“Well, do it again. Anyway you’d like, in fact. Just make sure you’re in it so she’ll see you and for the magic to work. Don’t use anything water or lead based. I heard oil paint works the best.”

“The country’s on the brink of a recession. I can’t even find a decent price for bread. How am I supposed to get my hands on oil paint?”

The man smirks. “The same way you got your hands on the frame.” Taehyung takes a look around the shop only for the owner to chuckle. “What I mean is that you are resourceful, Mr. Kim. You’ll find a way.”

Taehyung schools his features, suppresses his anger and bites the insides of his cheeks. He sets the heavy frame on the desk with a little sigh, falling out of the conversation for a minute. From the sheer weight of the damned thing alone, he knows he’s going to be losing quite a lot of money- possibly even all he has left. And it would all be rendered useless if he can’t even get the right paint for it.

“Now, you’ll have to make sure that whoever it is says your name; first and last.”

Gazing down at the golden details of the frame, he wonders if this is all even worth it. Are you even in the future, the past? The shop owner mentioned something about sending him back. Does this magic defy the logic of time? Can it really have him jump centuries? Would he need to paint himself in the image of a specific era for it to work?

“They need to at least know where you are from. A year, season or what have you will do just fin-”

“Will it take me back?”

The shop owner blinks. He glances between Taehyung and the frame before asking, “Back?”

“When I mentioned my soulmate, you said you can’t take me back.”

“I haven’t gotten my hands on anything that can travel through time just yet, Mr. Kim.”

Taehyung pauses.

The shop owner’s smile fades and he clears his throat. He must’ve seen the hope diminishing from Taehyung’s gaze because his causal tone begins to carry an unusual heaviness that weighs down the conversation. Leaning towards his patron, the shop owner puffs out another cloud of smoke then says, “Nothing in this market can bring a soulmate to life. You can’t even build one, Mr. Kim- Well, not right now anyways, but that’s a discussion for another time.” He waves the topic off and continues, “I cannot draw you a map or pick out a year of when she once existed or will be born. This frame will not take you back, it will simply preserve you for the future.” He looks to the frame and runs his fingers along the edges as he explains, “Your soul will be tethered within the gold, incapable of parting from the canvas.”

Taehyung scoffs. He knew this was a scam. This entire shop and its stupid magic thrive on his pathetic desperation and hopeless wishes. It was clever too, he thinks, tailoring every aspect of the market to his liking. The organized mess (that somehow still maintains a minimalistic approach,) the childhood memorabilia, the fucking cane he saw his grandmother get buried with. It was all so cleverly designed to reel him into this very moment, following this cryptic old man around a dead shop to sucker him out of the very little he has left.

“Tethered to a canvas?” he mumbles. “I walked up and down these streets for her and all you can do is jail me in a fucking canvas?”

The shop owner takes a step back, the profanity hanging in the air all too heavily to breathe. Taehyung knows he should apologize, but can’t seem to find it in him to do so. He came looking for you and has met a morbidly poetic demise instead; sentenced to death by his art.

Lowering his voice, Taehyung offers a gentle glance and says as a way of an apology, “I just need to find her, sir. I’m not sure how I can do that when I’m stuck in my own painting.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Kim. I understand your frustration now. You’ve gotten it all wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“That’s right,” he laughs. “You won’t be finding her. She’s going to find you.”

“If she exists in the future.”

The shop owner nods.

Whatever worries Taehyung once held dissolve into guilt as he hurries to push every reminder of his judgemental thoughts out of his head. He flashes the owner an apologetic look, somewhat grasping the parameters of the frame and journey to his soulmate now - if indeed she lives at some point in the future.

“So,” the owner starts, taking another sip of smoke as he pulls Taehyung out of his thoughts. “Are you willing to trade?”

Taehyung raises a brow. “Trade?”

“Might I remind you, Mr. Kim, that I am a collector,” he gestures to his shop then takes another drag.

Taehyung bites his lip. Unbuttoning his coat, he pats down his pockets. The keys to his apartment and studio jingle, wallet thumps against his palm and his father’s watch quietly ticks beneath the fabric. He holds onto the imprint of the old thing in his pocket, taking notice of the way the shop owner pauses mid drag at the impression of it. “I haven’t got anything worth trading,” he lies.

The shop owner smudges out his cigarette. “Well, then neither have I,” he shrugs. “The market’s closing very soon, so I suppose you best be on your way, Mr. Kim.”

“I need this frame,” Taehyung repeats. “You know I do.”

“It looks to me as though you simply want it if you haven’t got anything worth trading.”

He can’t believe he’s seriously being hustled, by some old man no less. Taehyung rolls his eyes and clenches his jaw. Pulling out the watch, he finds it’s only a minute before it’s no longer midnight. The seconds tick. His heart coils. He never had the best relationship with his parents, rejecting the high society for artistry. Whatever shame he had brought to his family name disappears when holding onto this stupid watch. He’ll truly lose all his familial connections if he lets it go, for the thinnest chance of meeting you.

There’s less than twenty seconds and counting as Taehyung unclasps the chain from his pocket and tosses it onto the desk. He’s made it too far to walk away now and he’s so close. What was there left in that dumb watch anyways beside the reminder of his constant disappointment?

The shop owner snatches the watch within seconds. Before Taehyung can question him about how exactly the magic works again, having not listened very well the first time, the owner shoves the frame against his chest. Taehyung stumbles back with an oof.

“Always a pleasure doing business with the bulletproof boys,” he smiles.

“The what?”

“Don’t forget to write your name.” He says, pushing Taehyung towards the door. “Make sure she says it. Oh, and send my greetings to the boys!”

The door shuts before Taehyung can question half of the gibberish the old man was spewing in these last few moments of the midnight market. He only just parts his lips when he finds himself back in the alley. The shouting, the potions, the patrons all vanish with a blink. He breathes in the chilled air and murky scent of the city. Dark, cold, and alone, Taehyung clutches his frame. It’s all he has left in this life, and he hopes that you’ll be around to find him in the next.

Cold green tea tastes bitter. The tangs of honey are unable to soothe the flavour. Taehyung tried to make it the way you do, with a spoon full of peach marmalade. The flavours settled oddly, however, biting back on his tongue bitterly. He drinks it anyway. He hates to waste, and besides the taste, he supposes it’s perfectly fine tea. Setting the small cup on your dresser, violet ink prints of his thumb stamped on, he leans back in his seat and shifts his attention back and forth from the sketch book in his hands to your bed. You sleep soundly, unaware of the scratch of his pencil on paper, or the rain on pavement outside, even with the window cracked open. From time to time, he notices you shiver from the brisk wind sweeping into the tiny room. Whenever he goes to rise from his seat to adjust your covers, you always beat him to it, pulling your comforter to your chin. He’s found it’s best to just observe for now - like he’d done in the painting.

Of course, trapped in four golden frames, there wasn’t much he could do but watch. He made his choice nearly a hundred years ago and had to pay for it everyday he was passed to someone that wasn’t you. Stiff and sore, starving and thirsty in a pathetic painting, he was just waiting to see you. And when he finally did, he wondered when he’d be able to touch you. And now that he has, he wonders just how long it will take before you realize how much he needs you.

Taehyung cringes at his thoughts, scribbling all over the sketch of you he just can’t seem to get right. He doesn’t need you, he tells himself. Perhaps, he tries to soothe his pride, he just needs the thought of you. With you, he’s not alone in a tiny apartment, surrounded by a life that once was. Tossing a hesitant glance at your sombered state, Taehyung, for a second too long, wonders if he indirectly plagued you with the same curse. His existence in a time that does not belong to him has forced you into a tiny apartment, chasing a life that was once yours. Guilt claws at his throat. Taehyung washes it down with the last remaining bit of tea. Chunks of peach marmalade fill his cheeks, but he swallows through the texture.

After setting the cup down, Taehyung restarts his sketch. He traces your curves from memory, last night still seared into his bones like a fever dream, and feather-flicks some shading around your frame. His words return to him in pitiful waves of desperation. He was consumed by you, intoxicated by every whimper and plea that shivered on your lips. His defences shattered, the most vulnerable parts of him pushing deep into you as he confessed his reservations.

Cheeks aflame, Taehyung blinks the memory away. Maybe you won’t remember - a thought that stings a bit more than the humiliation of the memory itself. Tears cloud his vision. Annoyed with himself, he rolls his eyes, a stray tear disturbing his drawing. He flinches with the drop. The once rigidly drawn lines bleed out of place. Pen between his fingers, Taehyung rips the page out, crumbles it into a ball and chucks it in the general direction of the trash. He starts the sketch again, with a few circles to outline the shape of your curves.

While pushing every last thought of you away, still trying to resketch you, his grandfather’s voice pulls him back to his memories. As the pen retraces its strokes, Taehyung recalls the week before his grandfather’s untimely death. Midnight, or somewhere nearing, with silent streets and quiet melodies croaking from a rusted gramophone, Taehyung sees himself standing before a canvas. He can’t quite make out the painting, having forgotten what it was, but he remembers being annoyed with the colours. They hadn’t blended the way he hoped. He’s not sure how but his brush snapped in his hands and, with a growl, he found himself staring at a broken canvas by his feet.

“I thought Francis was kidding when he called you a tortured artist,” his grandfather had teased.

Taehyung cringes at the memory of his blatant disrespect towards his grandfather as he ignored the old man and the pain in his eyes. He just couldn’t accept another mention of his once best friend. A wave of his happiest memories now tainted with a truth he couldn’t fathom returned to him then, and return to him now. Taehyung stops sketching as he lets himself remember what it felt like to be around someone, a self-proclaimed non judgemental someone, who told him he not only understands, but genuinely cares. Then, flashes of their last encounter spoil the purest memories, that the last four years of his life have been a lie. Whether through a series of misunderstandings or misspeakings, Taehyung had shattered his once friend’s confidence. And that last encounter wasn’t to inform of his misconduct but rather the consequences of them. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know, that it was unintentional because it had already been done.

He had destroyed every friendship after that. Shut every door and ripped every letter. No matter if he saw them on the street, art shop, gallery opening or class, Taehyung wouldn’t even spare a look towards those he once posed naked for or otherwise. If they knew of his friendship with Francis, if they were friends with him and Francis, then they were Francis’ friends. Taehyung wanted nothing to do with them, with what once was and what could’ve been.

Am I a bad person? he wondered. Stuck in that painting, he wondered. Last night, lying by the only person who would understand, he wondered. Sitting inches away from you, he wonders now.

But then his grandfather calls back to him. And the moment of self loathing where he pushes right past the poor man returns. Clenching his jaw, Taehyung tries to skip through this strand of the memory, only to have it reply in his mind like a cursed record. His pen slips, harshly striking through his work and it pulls him out of his thoughts. Taehyung rips the pages out and starts again.

The memory returns as he outlines your body once more. He had left the mess of the canvas on the floor and went to get a new one. His grandfather, cane thumping, limped after him. Taehyung only noticed when he turned back around to the easel. His heart aches as he recalls walking right past him. But, he remembers thinking that his grandfather knew Taehyung had changed for the worse. He wishes he can crawl back into the past and shake himself out of his ignorance. It was obvious his grandfather just wanted some company. He always did enjoy watching Taehyung paint.

His grandfather spoke about his wife like she was still standing beside him. He told Taehyung of the first time they met, a story Taehyung had heard many times and simply wasn’t interested in hearing that night, though he’s thankful he kept that detail to himself. It’s then that Taehyung remembers what he’d been trying to paint. As his grandfather was going on about soulmates, Taehyung thinks he catches a glimpse of the new canvas, of the curves that he cannot seem to get right. He didn’t know what you were supposed to look like, but whatever was on that canvas was not at all what he knew to be the truth. He remembers reaching within for a life at the otherside of his soul only to find hollowed emptiness, like something was supposed to be there but just never came to be.

The thought returns again - you were the only one that would be there for him as he would be for you. You were all that was left. He remembers speaking to Francis about you and can still hear his once friend’s plea to “be realistic.”

“It was lonely,” his grandfather had said, “knowing she was out there but I wasn’t allowed to see her just yet.”

Finally perfecting the outline of your frame, Taehyung now mutters to himself. “It was cruel.”

It was cruel to leave us so lonely.

Glancing up at you for a quick reference of your features, Taehyung doesn’t feel so lonely, not quite anyways. Last night was more than just a breath of fresh air. His soul was complete, perhaps even renewed. With the bond sealed, so are your souls. They’re engulfed in the other, fully tangled. He can tug at the otherside of his soul and feel yours in the tip of his toes. It’s just his heart that remains fractured now. And his mind doesn’t have the strength to nurse it nor to ask for your help. He knows the life you lead here, the amount of damage he’d caused, and the last thing he will do is further damn you with his inner demons. And that’s where his renewed loneliness lies - in the fact that you can’t help each other without corrupting the other.

Taehyung tosses you a glance after feathering your eyebrows, searching for the exact parameters of your nose as if he doesn’t already know them. He has caught himself studying you far more times than he’s caught you staring at him. All he’s ever done is watch you. It’s the safest way to have you without losing you. From your ears to your chin to the slight dip of your collarbone and plump curves of your breast when squished together as you sleep on your side. It’s the way your lashes flutter when you’re concentrating or intrigued that always gets him though. Oh- and the sway of your hips when you’re excited or eager. And he can never, for the life of him, ignore the way your jaw sets when you’re upset. The tension in your neck always gives you away.

And… if he really was being honest with himself (an act he’s already regretting as his pride whimpers behind his heart), Taehyung lives and breathes for your stretch marks. He trails his pen further down the page, gently lining your stretches around your hips and just under your stomach. He’s memorized their positions, peppered the ones around your shoulders enough times to know that they are white up there but a purplish-pink just above your pussy.

He bites his lips at the recollection of your taste. An image of your clit flashes through his mind so fast he almost thinks he might’ve imagined it. God, what he’d give right now to just look at it. The folds, the swollen bud, the wetness drip dropping over his fingers, tongue, and coc-

Ah, fuck, he can feel himself throb under his sketchbook. Shifting in his seat, he tries to calm himself down, but the new sketch of your pussy on the next page isn’t much help. When had he even drawn that? Taehyung glances between the two sketches, noticing how he had abandoned the full body drawing mid stroke just to recapture your (glistening, he notes) pussy. A part of him can’t believe how horny he is that he shaded and highlighted just the right places to make it seem like you’re as desperately wet as you were last night. The other part isn’t so surprised. How can he blame himself for wanting to fuck you? It’s been on his mind since he watched you ride your pillow when he was in the painting. You had caught his eye, he recalls, and grinded against the damned thing faster, biting your lip at him. It was as if you knew, as if you could hear him, feel him instructing you to go faster and harder and closer to the edg-

“Drawing me like one of your french girls?”

Taehyung snaps his head up. On your stomach, ass out and begging to be played with, you lean your head on your palms, just inches away from his legs on the edge of the bed. He stares, mouth somewhat gapping at the sight. When did you wake up and why hadn’t he heard you move? You hold his eyes, curious and memorizing. Your legs dangle behind you and he can’t help the smirk on his face as the effects of last night fully come to life with your awakened state. He’d noticed the smudged makeup and messy hair when you were sleeping. It’s the streaks of his cum on your neck and cheeks that make him bite his lip. You look so ruined he’s almost proud.

You sit up on your elbows, glance wandering down. He knows you see his hard dick under his sketchbook, knows that bite of your lip too well to not get just a tad bit harder with anticipation.

“French girls?” he questions with furrowed brows.

You smile up at him, gaze teasing and amused. He draws in a heavy breath. You’re just asking to be taught all over again how to behave, aren’t you?

“Nevermind,” you giggle to yourself.

Goosebumps rise all over at the sound. Taehyung has always found that you have a natural talent for being so adorably sexy in the most effortless ways. He already knows he can cum to that sound alone and is almost tempted to toss the book and pen aside to jerk himself off in front of you without a word.

Your delicate voice pulls him out of the fantasy as you add, “How long have you been up?”

“Not long.” He makes sure to not speak above a whisper, almost in love with the soft world your voice creates within his heart. All previous thoughts and haunting memories that once clouded over him vanish upon a single breath from your lips. If he didn’t know any better, he would say it almost feels healing.

Taehyung places the sketchbook and pen by the stained teacup, his hand then finding its way to your head. A little sigh leaves you as he gently scratches your scalp. The staleness in his chest dissolves, like washing dried paint off a stiff brush. With every rub of your head, every flutter of your eyes as you stare up at him, Taehyung takes a clearer breath. Whatever weight was perched on his shoulders, straining his neck and back for a century, lifts off and away from this tiny apartment. He pushes a loose strand of hair out of your face as you shift closer, resting your head on his knee now, cheek squished against him.

As his gaze trails down your back, so does his hand. His fingers graze the little dip of your spine, eyes fixated on the curves of your ass. The sudden arch of your back, perking up your ass doesn’t go unnoticed. Taehyung smirks. He resists the urge to spank you, even if you are silently requesting that he does. But then you timidly drag your tongue against his skin, soft fingers tracing slow circles around his inner thigh. He can’t hold back the instinct to at least grab your ass - as a warning, he tells himself. You both know he simply adores the way the fat of your ass feels in his hands.

“Do you draw me often?” you ask, teeth grazing the bend of his knee only for you to lick at it seconds later.

Taehyung almost chokes on his next intake of air when he glances back at you. Your mouth is fixated on his leg but eyes locked on his hard cock. He should be embarrassed by your shameless stare, but can only sense the overwhelming urge to jam his cock in your mouth and give your tongue something real to swirl and lick around. Your eyes widen when his cock throbs at the thought and he catches your curious gaze.

Both hands combing back your hair to a tight hold, Taehyung draws gentle circles into your scalp and asks, “Is that really what you wanted to have asked?”

You shake your head.

“What is it, then?”

“Can I please suck you, daddy?”

This time he stumbles on his breath, quick to cover it up with a cough. No, no, no, you can’t do this. You can’t ask for something so filthy, all while using that soft voice and calling him by his favourite name. He shouldn’t have told you how much he enjoys it. He shouldn’t have made it so clear that you’re the only one that can ask anything and he would deliver. He shouldn’t have made it so obvious that you are everything he would ever need. And now, with your naked body all laid out for him and face inches away from his cock, he knows he should hold you with a single hand by your cheeks and tell you just how dirty you are, how your slutty mouth will make you both late for work (even when he’d really rather stay in this tiny room with you).

Instead, he sits back and drops his hands by his side. The fact of the matter is, he cannot utter a single word that would deny either of you the pleasure of an oral experience. He feels his nerves burning in the tips of his toes every time he has the urge to rail you and dismisses it. It’s the bond, he can hear a little voice inform. When Taehyung searches within, he can almost hear the echo of your bonded souls craving your taste to-

A loud hiss escapes him at the sudden feeling of your tongue running over his tip. You look up at him shyly and he can already hear your annoyingly sweet voice mutter something about how badly you need it and how you just couldn’t help yourself. You gather something at the centre of your lips and brazenly spit over him only to suck timidly while struggling to hold back a smile. He hates how cocky you act when you get your way.

Setting his jaw, Taehyung harshly tangles his fingers in your hair and grips onto the roots. You release him with a gasp, whining his name. He glares down at you, his annoyance doubling at the lapse of respect. With a quick jerk of his hand, he stands and flips you over on your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” he hisses. Patient and gentle no more, he pushes himself into your mouth the moment you part your lips to correct yourself.

The mewl that struggles to escape you could be confused for protest had it not been for the way your hands shoot to the back of his thighs, pushing him further into your mouth. It’s the spread of your legs that really tips him off about your excitement, however. You expose your pussy to him, somewhat shivering from the light gust of wind that seeps in from the window.

Taehyung isn’t sure what to focus on. Your nails dig into his skin, resisting his movements to pull back as you hold his cock deep in your throat. He knows he gave you very little time to prepare. He was watching you closely last night, entranced by the way you worked yourself up into taking him whole. And though he’s only just over halfway in, he knows you’ll have to surface back for a breath, or a mouthful of his balls. He shutters upon remembering how devoted you were to them. Fuck, he could watch you suck all day.

Moving against your silent request to stay put, Taehyung pulls himself out just enough to keep a little more than his tip still in your mouth. You heave for air as your tongue swirls around him and he can’t stop the chest-drawn groan that escapes him. He’s almost ready to admit how glad he is that no one else has ever done this to him, knowing it would never amount to your excellence. Free hand brushing over the dips and lumped curves of your tits and stomach, Taehyung knows he can cum from the simple act of your tongue twirling around his cock, but finds that your legs spread wider when you choke on him.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasps, fingertips rubbing against your scalp, and his other hand teases your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You suddenly grow a bit shy, clamping your legs shut tight and crossing your ankles. Rubbing your thighs together, you mewl around him, attempting to pull him back into your mouth by the grip you hold on the back of his thigh.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle at your eagerness. He pinches your nipple harder as he gives into your whining and lets you pull him back in. Saliva starts to leak from the corners of his lips as he watches your throat bulge with the stretch of his cock. You gag, and he gasps when he sees how your throat contracts around him. Arched back, legs open once more, you try to relax your throat only to gag again. You must’ve taken him too quickly, Taehyung concludes. Because it’s not long before you’re pushing him back out to catch another breath.

He massages your tit as you gasp, quietly asking to mask the growing concern he knows will seep into his voice, “You okay?”

You nod - or at least, he thinks you do. He can’t really tell with his cock somewhat still resting in your mouth and your head hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Pfine,” you lazily mumble around him.

Drops of warm saliva and what he presumes is precum drip upon his toes and he feels the pads of them burn with desire that, all at once, stretches throughout every nerve of his body. Looking down at you, it’s like he sees you for the first time. Body laid out, naked, pussy drenched, mouth wide open, you’re a goddess in the clouded sunlight dimly shining in the room. When the lightning hits, the flash illuminates your body and Taehyung just about utters his devotion, adoration, infatuation with you.

He can’t fight the urge to take it slow, to give you time to adjust to his weight or length or whatever it is you need to do. Yanking on your hair, he growls as you stumble upon a surprised cry.

“Then, why the fuck aren’t you sucking?”

He lets go of your hair, reaching for each of your tits as a new anchor for his force as he pushes fully into your mouth. You gag, hands shifting up to his ass in shock, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he finds the unfamiliar act rather arousing, more than he thought he would and grips onto your tits harder.

With a dark, short laugh, he asks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, babygirl?” He massages the sting of his tight hold away with a groan. “Didn’t you wanna taste daddy?”

You make a little sound that doesn’t quite cut through the squeaks of the mattress or his heavy huffs of breath, but he knows the cut syllables enough to know you must’ve replied, “Yes, daddy.”

He’s not sure what’s got you behaving so well. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s given you exactly as you asked or that teasing you makes you a bit too needy and submissive than you normally are. And though he knows, it doesn’t really matter, he still feels as though he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you.

The thought only angers him. He picks up his pace, forcing himself to forget every poisonous, self-loathing voice that tells him he’s not good enough. The fact of the matter is, you belong to him as he does to you. The pads of his feet almost tickle with the approach of his high. He regrettably moans your name, eyes trialing up and down your body.

Fuck, he’s lost himself too much. Just last night, he told himself he wouldn’t do that again. He can’t keep fucking you only to reveal just how weak he is for you. Shuddering, Taehyung releases his grip on your tits and pushes your hands off him. He pulls himself out of your throat, barking, “Stay fucking still,” when you whine and gasp for air.

Your tired eyes watch him curiously, and he knows you’re about to ask him why he didn’t finish inside. He did after all promise you a taste just the night before. Taehyung holds back a moan, a growl managing to escape inside as he ignores his own pathetic feelings and focuses on you instead. Maintaining your gaze, Taehyung notes how precious you look, how when you bite your lip, he wants to pull it out from between your teeth with his tongue and kiss the harmless bite away. He ignores the urge to tell you he’s obsessed with your big thighs and instead keeps his thoughts on how easily you melt at the simple notion of his presence.

A moan tears through his throat, cock twitching as he cums upon your face. “Fuck,” he gasps, staggering a step closer to shoot his load over your tits, a bit landing on your stomach as well. Your name leaves his lips again when you moan at his taste and he hunches over, his free hand leaning on your shoulder to steady himself as he finishes over your body.

You take his hand away from his cock before he can even get a scolding word in and pump the last couple strands of the cum into your mouth. He knows he should punish you for disobeying him, for acting out of turn and order but his high has ruptured his ability to think clearly. All that’s left in his chest and deep in the pit of his stomach is this animalistic urge to lay atop of your cum streaked body and dive head first into your pussy. It’s been calling to him since he sketched it.

“Mor-”

He cuts off your title-less demand with a light smack of his balls against your lips. They silence you as you suck on them, and he can imagine how you’d look right now with your cheeks full and puffed with the indent of his balls in your mouth. He bites at your inner thigh, tongue soothing after teeth, then breaths a laugh at how your legs shudder. He’s barely touched you and you’re already unraveling. He can’t help but think, what other simple, innocent acts would make you melt just as easily.

He, first, rolls his hips against your lips, and your nails slowly scratch up the length of his thighs. He smirks, then licking at the crevice where your fold and thigh meet, not quite reaching your pussy yet. The wet scent still makes his eyes roll back though. You quietly mewl in broken breaths and Taehyung laughs, knowing by the placement of your tongue against his balls that you’ve rightfully resided back to his title. “If you said that earlier, you wouldn’t be in this position, babydoll,” he advises in hushed tones.

Your toes curl and legs lift off the bed at the new pet name. Pride bubbles in his throat and soon amused laughter fills the room. The action almost hurts, a cough following shortly after. He’s been moping about for about a century over people that have long since been gone that he’s completely forgetting how to properly laugh. Taehyung smears his lips against your clit, his own toes curl at the little moan staggered giggle that leaves you. It’s you that’s done this to him. Had it not been for the strain in his throat, like he suppressed a cough, he wouldn’t have noticed it this soon, but it really is you. You’re the one that pulls him out of his head, his wounded heart and somehow complete but shattered soul. You’re the one that helps him forget how truly terrible he is.

Taehyung licks at your clit down to your entrance. One lap and his eyes roll back. All previous thoughts disappear, the only thing on his mind now is drinking up every last drop of you. He growls before latching his mouth to your hole, slurping and poking his tongue inside. Pushing your legs against his cheeks, he smothers himself in your pussy, finding that he is rather obsessed with the way he can’t breathe. He wishes he can tell you how much he adores the way you suffocate him with your pussy. It’s your taste that’s his life line now.

Swallowing another mouthful of your arousal, Taehyung shifts his hands lower, smacking your ass when he reaches it. Your pathetic yelp at the action only makes him wanna do it again, and again, and again until his hands sting from the smack. As he shakes his face against your pussy, hoping his tongue reaches deeper, he grips and massages your asscheeks. God, he’d love to shove his face between there too and shake them as he licks at your asshole. Then maybe he can shove himself between your tits. He doesn’t want to leave a single part of you unexplored.

Every other breath is another taste. Every other taste brings a new position to mind. And the more positions that circle his disarranged thoughts, the less Taehyung wants to let go. He knows you're close. Your moans higher in pitch and legs crossed rather tightly around his head. He can feel you shaking, hips gyrating against the entirety of his face. His balls simply sit in your mouth like a gag. They muffle every word you attempt to utter. He’s not quite sure what you’re saying this time, though. It sounds jumbled amongst the creaking mattress and his heaving slurps and throaty growls.

Your voice gives out. You choke on your own moans as you cum against his tongue. Taehyung rasps a staggered, satisfied sigh upon a single taste. He moves his face along the irregular juts of your hips with each gush. The hungry snarls are enough indication of his eagerness, his short nails in your ass to keep you from moving too much are just a precaution. At least, that’s what he tells himself, his pride suddenly making a reappearance as if he hadn’t already admitted to himself that you are in fact his life line.

When he’s sipped on every drop, tongue reaching far into you to make sure he’s got all he could, Taehyung rubs up and down your thighs. He moves what little he can of his head to kiss at your labia, sucking a bit at the folds just to hear you stubbornly whine. He nibbles on it with a smile, thumbs brushing soothingly against your thighs.

You, still a mouthful of balls in your mouth, attempt to groan, “daddy,” but the word ends up sounding more like “buhee.” It’s adorably pathetic and he can’t resist laughing at you a bit. The act must’ve struck something in you, however, as you shove the same overstimulated pussy in his face again.

“Easy, babydoll,” he chuckles against your clit before latching onto it. Your hips fall when he starts to suck, and you begin whining all over again. It’s as if you didn’t just slam your hips against his jaw, silently begging for more. Taehyung sucks harder in defiance of your sporadicness.

You always do this. You always forget which one of you is in charge, throwing yourself at him shamelessly with every intention to get your way. You’re stubborn and loud and misbehave all too often with your swearing and half dressing and it’s as if you want to push his buttons. Even before emerging from the painting, you’d sit and stare back like you knew he was watching and hearing and believing in you. It made him ache all over that you didn’t just grab the fucking frame like you were meant to and just read the inscription already. It pained him to watch you lay and cry, and sleep and cry, and wake up with some guy (he now knows to be Hoseok) and try not to cry. So badly he just wanted to reach out and tell you that everything would be okay, that he’s here to protect you now and whoever you two would always talk about is a fucking jerk. Possessiveness and the urge to protect flamed under his flesh at every break of your voice.

Teeth grazing your bud, Taehyung kisses your pussy softly. The frantic eruptions of desire settle into silent affirmations of affection. He gently shushes you between kisses, then licks the glistening remains of your cum from your inner thighs. Sucking on his balls like a pacifier, you’re soothed into a pure space of submission. “You’re okay now, doll,” he reassures, rubbing up and down your thighs.

When he stands back up, balls finally popping out of your mouth and resting on your closed eyes, Taehyung drinks this filthy sight of you up once more. The apex of your thighs are gleaming with spit, torso smeared in his cum and mouth slathered with a dirty mixture of both. He takes a step back as you slowly rise, turn and sit yourself up on your knees with a cute little smile that’s a bit too hard not to return.

“You’re a fucking mess,” he says instead, face unmoving like stone.

You smirk, eyes flickering down his chest and lingering all too long at his semi-hard cock. “Eating all that pussy really cleans out your mouth, huh?”

Your sarcasm about his foul language does not go unnoticed. He’s told you before and he’ll tell you again, “If you’re going to act like a cockslut, I’m going to treat you like one.”

He expects you to swear out of spite, spit at him, maybe even lunge yourself off the bed so you can fuck around some more on the very same cold floor he crawled over when he first arrived. Instead, you hold his gaze and move back towards the bed frame. Raising a brow, he can’t hide his confusion. Just as he’s about to crawl after you, your legs spread once again and you cup your wet pussy. The bite of your lip reminds him of the few times you’d fuck your finger while staring at that canvas.

“Is this how a cockslut acts?”

“Spread’em wider,” he teases, crawling his way between your legs.

The disarmed look that flashes in your eyes is enough to make him laugh. You chew on your lip again, giving your embarrassment away so easily. Taehyung rests himself between your legs only to flip you over so that his back rests against the bedframe and you sit awkwardly upon his lap. Your legs are somewhat intertwined with his. He can feel your folds settle around his thigh as it presses up against you too and he hisses quietly to himself. You lean forward to tease a kiss. When he tries to close the distance, you shove your arousal sticky fingers into his mouth and giggle.

Taehyung growls. He makes quick work of licking those fingers clean though.

“We’re gonna be late,” you whisper. He digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass. With a moan, you change your tune, “We can just blame it all on the weather, though.”

How can he resist a smile now? He pushes your fingers out of his mouth and shoves his face between your breasts, hiding his smirk amongst kisses and nibbles of your skin. Your infectious laughter is enough to let him know that you’re onto him. Usually, it would make him shy and annoyed but he finds it comforting now. Not everyone could read him as easily as you can; not everyone tries to. He kisses up to your neck, tongue lingering around his initials on your collarbone for a moment, then grazes his teeth against your jawline.

In the midst of your fingers in his hair, moans within the air, your phone vibrates on the nightstand. You reach for it with a groan, holding his face against you until you read the name on your screen. “It’s Hobi,” you whisper.

Taehyung pulls away to raise a brow at you. “Why are you whispering?”

“He can’t know. Joon has a strict no romance policy in the office.”

“Okay,” Taehyung holds back a chuckle. “But, you didn’t answer yet so he can’t even hear us.”

You roll your eyes to cover your embarrassment and slide to answer. “Hello?”

Cute, Taehyung thinks as he presses a soft kiss to your neck, biting his lip when you shove him back against the headboard. He would’ve stopped then, hands still on your ass, if it hadn’t been for that eager look on your flushed face. Could you… in fact... like the idea of being heard?

“Yeah, we just woke up,” you reply in an uneven voice.

He decides to test out his theory, flexing his thigh a bit and rolling your hips against it. You bite down on your lip and tighten your grip on his shoulder.

“There’s a blackout?”

Taehyung looks around the room with you, thinking dim lighting was normal on a gloomy morning like this. He hadn’t thought much about the absent hum of the fridge until the blackout was mentioned.

“How could I know? I did just wake up.”

Your voice seems to be regaining its confidence, a detail that somewhat irks Taehyung. You’ve played far too many games this morning, had your way on one too many occasions. If you think that you can just call the shots whenever you'd like to, you’re sadly mistaken.

Taehyung digs his fingers into your hips, right beside the stretch marks he adores oh so much and guides your hips faster against his thigh. You hold the phone away for a moment, letting out a breathy gasp at the new force of his grip.

With a pointed look, you tell Hobi that you can manage your own way to work. Taehyung doesn’t care for that attitude at all. He lands a loud smack against your ass, smirking when you can’t contain your yelp.

“What was…? You okay?” Taehyung somewhat catches Hobi asking.

Glaring at Taehyung, you clutch onto his bicep and reply through gritted teeth. “Just fine.”

You’re fucking hot when you’re mad, he wants to tell you. Especially when you think you’re in control. He leans his head back, noting to himself that you seem to have forgotten who really runs the risk of caring whether or not the two of you get caught. With that in mind, Taehyung licks his lips and lets out a throaty moan.

Hobi’s voice suddenly gets quiet and your eyes widen. “What? No, I swear we’re not.” Rolling your hips faster against his thigh, you suppress your moans long enough to say, “I don’t care what Jimin told you! It was just dinner! Wha- No! We’re not dating!”

“That’s not what I said and you know it!” Hobi shouts back on the other end of the call.

Taehyung turns his head away from you, knowing that another moment of meeting your sexually blown and annoyed gaze would send him into an all too loud laughing fit.

“10 minutes?” you question, pulling the phone away from your face to let out a silent whine.

“Make it 20,” Taehyung whispers.

“Fuck you,” you hiss as you grind onto him faster.

The way his hand shoots up and around your neck is reactionary, he tells himself. But the way it squeezes down on your windpipe ever so softly is most definitely calculated. “Blame it on the weather,” he smirks.

“Gonna need 20,” you sigh, eyes twitching and hand trailing down his chest. “The blackout is a bit ha-rd to navi-ga-gate through ‘c-cause,” you take a moment to swallow a moan, “o-of the wea-ther and aa-all.”

Hoseok must’ve said something rather crude as your body stiffens (even while still moving harshly against him). You don’t even wish him a goodbye before chucking the phone aside and clutching onto his shoulders. “I hate you,” you cry as you get yourself off on his thigh.

Taehyung smirks, hands smacking down on your ass harshly. “Good morning to you too, babydoll.”

tags; @thedarkwinterrose, @rooo-tah, @nikkitane

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #bangtansorciere #networkbangtan #btshoneyhive #v smut #bts smut

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

a lover’s howl ⇾ kth. [M]

⟶ inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle and part of The Ghibli Series

⌁ pairing; howl!taehyung x reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; studio ghibli au, howl’s moving castle au, smut, a dash of fluff, a bit of angst, 18+

⌁ summary; an unforsaken spell blesses you with his presence again

⌁ word count; 4.1k

⌁ warnings; howl!taehyung, blonde!taehyung, bigdicc!taehyung, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering, body worshipping, basically a moving amount of filth~

⚘ happy birthday juno ♡ (@onherwings)~

⚘ a huge thanks to my beta readers, @kkulmoon, @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu, for taking the time to read this over and fix it up for me. it means a lot and i don’t think i will ever be able to thank you enough. also a special thanks @yeoldontknow for letting me talk at her, giving me ideas and always supporting me. I owe this fic being finished on time to you.

The rumble of the train trembles the walls of your workshop. Black fumes cloud the moonlight. Your candles flicker atop your desk, threatening to diminish and leave you sewing in the dark. Weaving feathers in and out of a black hat, you’re too preoccupied with thoughts of him to be fazed by the sound. He writes often, enclosing a black feather with every letter, but doesn’t visit as much. You’re not sure what of this “important business” is so dangerous that you can’t come along as well. You have survived much worse, witnessed his near death and helped him rebuild his castle afterall. And though you told yourself countless times that there’s no good dwelling on the past, you can’t seem to stop wondering what exactly changed his mind.

A prick of your thumb stings you out of your thoughts. In a jolt, you drop the needle and hat to shoot out of your seat with a hiss. You lick the wound before it bleeds then press your fingertip upon it. You hope the pressure subsides the wound long enough for you to fetch a bandage from the first aid kit.

Now, where did Taehyung say it was? Something about a library... or was it a living room? You make your way up to the attic, hoping he did in fact mention the library. All you can really remember from that conversation was how handsome he looked in that pink coat you stitched up for him. It just frames his broad shoulder so well only to narrow around his thin waist. And then there was that knowing look in his eyes that told you he knew just how much you weren’t listening at all.

“Baby,” he had whispered, cupping your chin. “Are you listening?” And once you had found the mental capacity to resist the urge to kiss him and slowly nod, he had smirked and repeated, “The kit is in-”

The library flickers to life when you enter. Dust settles upon every inch and you begin to wonder why he had forbade you from entering before as you scan the shelves for the kit. Leather bound books and tightly rolled scrolls reside on every surface. Trinkets of his journey clutter around as well. You had thought you talked to him about the importance of organization, but it seems that he prefers this mess best.

Your attention settles on the desk, sitting in front of a large window. Presuming it’s probably in one of the desk drawers, you make your way over with the intention of rifling through them and nothing more. You’ve learned from past experience that it’s best to never tinker with his things. However, once you stand before it, a red, leather bound book catches your eye. The imprinted title is written in an unreadable script and seems to be floating off the cover. How could that dance off the surface like that? Against your better judgement, curiosity hovers your fingers over the font.

Slamming open, the book flips and flicks through various pages only to suddenly stop. Rose coloured font apperates into view in that unreadable script again. You furrow your brows, attempting to read it anyways, until the strokes of ink shift around the pages. They rearrange themselves into a script you can decipher.

A Lover’s Howl.

Yearning of heart and

Tethers of soul.

I wish to end my misery

And the distance apart

Together unruly and-

The tremors of the train erupt every wall of the attic, pulling you out of your thoughts. Startled, you glance out the window to find that it is not the train at all you owe this rukkus to, but the upset clouds. Flashes of lightning burn the sky alight as rain beats down the busy street.

You turn back to the desk and shut the book. That’s enough snooping for a night. You still have that first aid kit to find. Rummage through the drawers, you finally find a little tin of bandages under a box of rose and emerald ink pots. Teeth between the thin paper, you rip open the little bandage and wrap it around your thumb. However, it seems like once one wound is taken care of, another flames.

Aching, your heart sits heavy in your chest. You take a deep breath, hands too shaky to return the kit back beneath the ink pots. The action seems to push the numb pain to your gut. A little whimper escapes you. You lean on the edge of the desk, inhaling sharply. You’re still breathing, you try to remind yourself. And that should be a comforting fact if your pussy didn’t begin aching as well. With a shaky gasp, you press your thighs together and wonder why the thought of being bent over this very desk seems to be unfathomably appealing right now.

Your fingers hover over the pearl buttons of your dress; it suddenly seems awfully tight in this hot room. Wait- when did the room get so ho- “Agh,” you whine as another pang of pain makes you needier.

The newfound heat suffocates skin, hands moving fast to push that blue dress off your shoulders. It doesn’t hit the ground before you start to discard your bra and panties as well. Still, your body burns with a desire to be overtaken. It’s as if you’ve been edged all day, left half finished and ready to finally unravel. Desperate to feel just that, you slide a hand down to your aching pussy. It clenches emptily, yearning for Taehyung's huge cock. God, it’s been too long since he last stretched you out. Nothing can ever quite compare to his size, your fingers and vibrator a weak excuse for anything besides clitoral pleasure.

Rubbing at your clit, you try to soothe the craving for him now. However, the pain only seems to intensify. It’s as if your body knows it’s not your own hand you crave, but Taehyung’s. And where is he now to graze your folds between his fingers and tease with little praises? You can just see him peeking up from between your legs, tongue poking out of his lips and breath fanning over your heat. And you’d push yourself up into him. So, he’d smirk and chuckle, and tell you to be patient or he won’t do anything at all. You can even hear him now, taunting at your desperate, half-naked state in the very section of the house he told you to never enter.

“What did I say about looking through my things?”

Hand cupping your heat, your attention snaps to the door. Taehyung leans against the doorframe, the candlelight sculpting his features sharply. His name leaves you in a whisper as you begin to wonder how desperate you are to have resorted to hallucinations? Maybe you should really call him if your mind’s gone this far. But, as you attempt to move around the desk, another shot of pain holds you back. You gasp a quiet cry and harshly rub circles around your clit.

Concern colours Taehyung’s features. “Sweetheart,” he calls, rushing over to you. You’re about to pride your mind on such a vivid and accurate imagination when you feel his large hands settle on your arms. Soft and cold, he holds you tight and guides your hunched over frame onto the desk. Shrugging his coat off, he drapes it over your shoulders and asks, “What’ve you done to yourself?”

“You’re here?”

“I’m here,” he smiles.

A breathless chuckle bubbles out of you as your hands wrap around his neck. Your arousal slicked hands stain his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, pulling you into a tighter hug. “You shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters between peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck.

His vanilla cedar scent coddles your heart and aches your bones. You whimper into his shoulder at how quickly the pain intensifies from a single whiff. Taehyung pulls half an inch away, concerned and confused. With his forehead resting against yours, he licks his lips and you can’t think of a better use for that tongue if not to lick at your pussy. The pain shoots at you again just as your thoughts become interesting. You swallow your whimpers as he brushes your hair out of your face.

His gaze falls to your bare chest before lingering around your pussy. Suddenly aware of your nakedness, you shyly press your thighs together. Every inch of you just wants to beg him for his cock already, no matter if you're bent on his desk or pressed against the window. You just need him on you, in you, touching every part of you.

The courage to ask for what you want finally presents itself when he shifts his gaze to something behind you. You sneak a glance over your shoulder to find that open book. A little sigh escapes him and he returns his attention to you with a little smirk. “You missed me this much,” he teases, caressing your cheek, “that you just had to cast a mating spell, hmm?”

Is that what that was? You weren’t even sure you could read it before it rearranged. You’re about to apologize when the pain cinches your words in your throat. Doubling over, you rest your head against his shoulder and whine, “Ah, Tae!”

He wraps his arms around you, further engulfing you in his scent and you don’t think you can take much more of this. Whatever this mating spell is, you’re sure it’s not supposed to be tearing you apart. Clutching on the collar of his shirt, you mumble, “I need you, Tae. I need your mouth and fingers and- I just need you so bad.”

You wish you can say you hate the way his eyes glisten with power. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he knew exactly how you were feeling and was just waiting for you to say it. He’s told you before that the sight of you so needy always awakes something dark within him. He loves to watch you whine and quiver.

His hold on your face tightens as his fingers dig into your skin. You swallow thickly, another whine escaping from the mere thought of those fingers deep in you. He licks his lips before asking, “What do you need me to do so bad, sweetheart?”

He trails his fingers down your neck, past your collarbone and the valley of your breasts; waiting, watching. When all you can muster is his name in a little mewl, he whispers, peppermint breath fanning over your face, “Do you want to start on your knees?”

“Anything,” you gasp, tugging on his shirt. You just need him close, need him now. “We can do it anyway you want, just please fuck me already.”

Surprise alights his eyes for a moment. Never have you spoken this crassly, without his cock already deep in you that is. He chuckles, on the verge of teasing you about it when another pained whimper escapes you. Taehyung settles his large hands on your thighs. Leaning in, he brushes his nose against yours then places a soft kiss upon the corner of your lips. “I know it hurts, sweetheart, but I can’t do much if you don’t tell me exactly what you want.”

You pause for a moment, wondering how much clearer you could be. Usually, a declaration to be riled is enough to set him off. You’re never the one guiding him as he always insists on guiding you. He says it's because he loves how obedient you suddenly become when his dick is involved. And though you have tried to fight him on it in the past, there’s not much you can deny now. So, you bite back a whine until you have enough strength to order just above a whisper, “I need your mouth, Tae. You’re fingers too. Honestly, anything will do just as long as you're tasting me.”

He bites back a chuckle as he lowers himself to his knees. Spreading your legs, he urges you to lean back a bit. The gesture pushes a variety of books and pens to the floor. Neither of you can be too bothered, however, with his face inches away from your pussy.

Holding your gaze, Taehyung dives in. You expect him to lick a long strip up your pussy to start, as he always does, only to have him suction his lips around your clit. Either way, you’re sure the pain withers away. A relieved gasp echoes in the small room as you throw your head back. You can barely even feel the previous ache when he releases your clit to lap up your wetness. All you can focus on is how you missed his warm tongue.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips roll up to meet his tongue, body craving more of him.

“Keep talking to me, baby,” he mutters around a mouthful of pussy. “How fast do you want it?”

You run a hand through his hair and hold on tight. “Fast!” Taehyung groans against you, making your heart flutter enough for you to forget what more you wanted to say. Until a small ache pokes at your gut again. With a whine, you reply, “I need your fingers. I need you to shove them in me and lick me and make me cum. Fuck, Tae, just please make me cum.”

Taehyung circles two fingers around your tight, little hole, muttering, “About time you remembered your manners.”

Not much strength lives in you to tell him that you’ll remember your manners when he finally lets you come along with him to whatever “important business” that’s taken him this long. And even if you could speak, all you can really think about is how you missed his fucking fingers. So long and slender, they slide into you so far and curl just right.The pain dissipates and you throw your head back with a loud moan. You’re not sure what this spell was, but you’re thankful for it if it means bringing Taehyung back home.

You attempt to ride his face again only to have him remove his lips. He smirks up at you, amused gaze peeking through his blonde bangs. His fingers quicken and bash just where you need them.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. Voice breathless, strained with the return of that painful, greedy desire to unravel, you whine, “I need your mouth.”

He chuckles. You shudder. Has he been gone so long that you’ve genuinely forgotten just how much you adored that laugh? You’ve never been able to process the duality of it, the cheerful tone sounding so deep and dark.

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

Oh, right. The spell. It only seems to let him follow your orders. You make a mental note to tease him about it later, the gnawing ache of your gut begging to be eased. Still, under your breath, you mumble, “Must I hold your hand through this?”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. His eyes blink cold, hard and darken into vexation. If he could, he’d smack your pussy, bend you over for a spanking only to edge you thrice before finally letting you cum. At least, that’s what he did the last time you talked back. Instead, he resorts to glares and little reminders to “behave” since “the spell will break before the night is over.”

You shiver with every moan as you sit up. A few more scrolls roll to the ground from the shift of your position, but you pay them no mind. As the thunder roars beyond the little library, you cup Taehyung’s wet smeared chin and guide him back onto his feet.

“All I can ever think about,” you start, attempting to speak through your moans, “is all the time lost not getting fucked in that moving castle.”

“It’s d-”

“Dangerous,” you finish. “More dangerous than a mating spell? Than this stupid libr- fuck, I think I’m close.” You fall forward to rest your head against his shoulders. Taehyung scoffs and you don’t need to glance at his handsome face to know he’s smirking. You can hear it.

Hand shooting to his wrist, you stop his fingers mid-thrust. The spell’s pain lingers around your pussy, tightening your walls around him. It threatens its return as your orgasm slowly disappears. He whispers your name, but you only meet his gaze when you’ve bitten every needy whine back long enough to say, “I just want you to fuck me like you want me.”

“What makes you think I don’t want you?”

A little whine slips past your lips. Taehyung’s expression softens and he shifts in place, likely feeling helpless when you don’t allow him to ease the ache. “You left, Tae,” you sigh. “You left me here. I want you to fuck me like you never did. I want you to replace your fingers with your cock and touch me like you love me.”

Taehyung pauses. “You think I don’t love you?”

Though the answer is on the tip of your tongue, you know better than to tell him it now. Taehyung is no fun to fuck when he’s genuinealy upset. And if you are going to be rid of this unforsaken curse, you know that you’ll need to keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself. So you let go of his wrist and the spell compels his actions once more.

Taehyung removes his fingers then rids himself of his clothes. You can’t seem to keep your hands from wandering over his chest and clutching onto his shoulders. He smiles at you and, though it’s small, that smile of his makes you wonder if perhaps you’ve ruined the entire mood and now he’ll only fuck you because he wants simply to help.

Then he seizes your hips. You’re pulled forward until the length of his cock presses between your folds. He strokes his nose along your cheek, wet lips whispering, “I think the real issue is how you have trouble following orders.” Rolling his hips against yours, Taehyung groans into the crook of your neck. “It looks like I have to show you how it’s done.”

You lose your fingers in his hair, clutching onto his bicep with your other hand. You missed how much he loved to tease. Lips biting into your collarbone, Taehyung reaches a hand between your bodies to align himself. A gentle push in and you’re exchanging praises. He’s definitely been gone too long if you’ve forgotten just how big he is. His mere tip stretches you enough to lose all words, incoherent affirmations taking their place instead. Eyes rolling back, you thrust up to try meeting his hips halfway, but Taehyung grounds you in place.

A specific speed never left your lips and you just now realized that fast is in fact Taehyung’s default setting when it comes to fucking you into submission. All the pain you thought was returning feels as though it never arrived at all. You’re about to tell him to thrust harder when he clutches onto your neck.

He stares into your desperate eyes, his own looking needier than usual - a fact he has never enjoyed admitting. “Do you know how many times I almost used this fucking spell?” he hisses as his thrusts become harsher. “Every night, I stare at that fucking page and think about how pretty you’d look when you’re full of my cock.” He growls a curse under his breath. The hand around your neck tightens just to let go. As it trails down your body to cup one of your bouncing breasts, he groans, “You look even more beautiful when you’re desperate for it. Did you know that?”

You let out a shaky moan. Hands sweaty, you try to maintain your grip on his shoulders as he plays with your body like a passtime. He thumbs your nipple, gazing down at how you arch your back and push yourself further against him. Breathless from the sheer sight, he picks up his pace. The desk scratches at the floor with every thrust. Your moans drown its sharp creaks as Taehyung buries his face between your breasts. Licking and biting, he feasts on you like he never left, like he does this every night and still can’t believe he has you.

Cradling his head closer, you feel that once painful ache in your gut tighten, twist and slowly begin to beg for a chance to release. And you know he can feel you inching closer as well, little praises pouring out of him between his appreciation of your chest.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps. “Taking my cock so well.”

True, you’re annoyed it took a fucking spell to bring him back, but you’d be lying if his insistence of you being such a good girl didn’t just replace all your anger with affection. “Taehyung!” you cry.

You’re about to ask for permission when you recall the fickle detail that you are the one calling the shots this time. Even still, you try to subside your urge to cum long enough to ask, “I-it’s okay to cum, right?”

Taehyung laughs against your skin. He trails quick kisses back up to your lips, only to mutter moments later, much to your constant whining, “You don’t need to ask this time, sweetheart.”

Like being doused with cold water, you allow yourself to come undone. Fingers digging into his skin, eyes rolling back, you scream out his name over and over again with the rhythm of his hips. Every new thrust adds to the quaking of your body. It breaks in your voice as you cry out for him.

“Does that feel better?” he teases, voice husky and strained. If that isn’t enough indication that he’s close, the little twitch of his cock gives it away. “Is my dick enough or do you want me to cum too?”

Nails imprinting into his skin, you try to meet his gaze. “If you don’t cum in me right now,” you start, breathless and desperate, “I swear I’ll cry.”

Taehyung nudges his nose against yours before pressing his lips to yours. He lets you swallow all his moans as he pulls you close by your ass and holds you tight. Then, he bites your lip and fills you until you’re stuffed with more than just his giant cock.

A few more rushed kisses and sloppy thrusts are offered before Taehyung ceases all movement. He rests his head on your shoulder, fingers still sunk into the curves of your ass. Sweaty, heaving exhaustion overwhelms your senses. Pussy pulsing, you find that the longer Taehyung remains in you, the more twinges of that pain return. You know you should tell him that, only you’re worried that he’d go the moment he pulls out. He has served the purpose of the spell after all.

Taehyung stands straighter now that his breath has returned to him. He shifts his hands from your ass to your hips and gently pulls out. A hiss escapes him. You feel empty all over again.

Crossing your legs, you softly push his hands off your hips. It might just be best to make this easier on both of you, you wonder, and give him a chance to go. Maybe that way it won’t feel as though he’s abandoning you.

“I guess you have to get back then,” you say as you hop off the desk.

You both know he can sense your discomfort. “I can stay for a little while.”

Grabbing your dress off the ground, you ignore the emotion in his words. “Lucky me,” you mutter, turning back to find him inches away.

Eyes locked, Taehyung maintains his sincerity. He tentatively wraps his arms around your waist and, when you don’t interject, presses you against his chest. “I’m- I-” he stutters for a moment before the words come together once more. “I thought leaving alone would be the safest. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

You shake your head. He’s missing the point. It shouldn’t take a spell to compel him to return. He shouldn’t have left you alone. “It shouldn’t matter how long it takes. I should always be there.”

Taehyung falls silent. Guilt flashes in his eyes as he reverts them to the floor. Swallowing thickly, he meets your gaze again to mutter, “I just can’t risk losing you again.”

“Then don’t leave me alone,” you whisper.

Taehyung pulls you into a warm hug. A tearful apology is mumbled into your shoulder. You’re not very interested in it though. All you want is him; with or without a lover’s howl.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtansorciere #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #kim taehyung angst #taehyung ghibli au

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

orange tree ⇾ knj, kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ares!namjoon x mortal!reader (f.) x apollo!taehyung

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ greek god au, established relationship (w/namjoon), smut, pwp, filth, poly au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ he built you a pathronon but you would like to expand its patrons… at least just for the evening.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7.4k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!namjoon, tattooed!namjoon, silver mullet!namjoon, dom!taehyung, blonde mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, a lil bratty!reader, rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, angry sex, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), humilition kink, size kink, pain kink, jealousy, threesome, overstimulation, degradation, double penatration (in one hole), exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), deep throating, cockwarming, choking, manhandling, body worshipping, pussy worshipping, basically reader worshipping, pussy slapping, cum eating, clit biting, spanking, teasing, begging, spit play, breath play, breast play, pretty much an ungodly amount of filth :)))

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m a hoe :))

❧ banner by ⇾ @kimtaehyunq (thank you so much friend~)

❧ beta’d by ⇾ @nottodayjjk and @uhgood-dooghu (a million thanks to these cuties~)

❧ le playlist

⟶ commission for @jamaisjoons through ChangesWithLuv, supporting BLM

Beyond the holy village of Barthes, within a meadow of sun dropped marigolds, you lounge topless underneath an orange tree. Cool winds cut the late summer heat. The breeze hardens your nipples and prickles your exposed skin with goosebumps. Hair tousled, you bite into another orange slice. He did not care for citrus, until he tasted your lips. Then, he planted you an orange tree. He promised you good fortune and a long life.

“You will want for nothing,” he told you. “Just, behave.”

Behave. A word he’d used often with you. Jaw tense, he’d hiss the warning while fondling your breasts or cupping your sex. When he is furious, he is boundless. He fucks like a titan, remnants of a gracious god completely withering away. Tight grips, rough pounds, and seething threats that promise such painful pleasure, Kim Namjoon is a red hot planet of sexual destruction. So angry, so lustful, he serves you a cockful of discipline and then some. You are helpless. To his wrath, you are subjected. But, you don’t mind. The truth of the matter is, your body is always alive when buried under his.

“You’re a minx,” a deep voice states behind you.

You sit up, fruit juice trailing down your arm. Lips in a pout, you gaze up at the tall man behind you. Blonde hair, symmetrical face, sharp collarbone, broad chest and - he smirks - and, oh so sinister. How could a delicate smile be so devilishly sincere? And he brands you a minx… what does this handsome man know of you? How long has he been watching? Swallowing your bite thickly, you try and fail to fathom his beauty.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and circles around you. His eyes dance around the thin, red blanket, the array of fruits, and braided loaves by the wicker basket before trailing up your exposed legs. A shiver snakes around your curves. The way his eyes devour you makes you think he did not stumble upon this hideaway accidentally. Namjoon took extensive measures to ensure no one would. No, this man knows. He must. Why else would he not question your presence alone under the only tree? He accepts it, expects it.

Pushing your sticky arms around your breast, you attempt to somewhat conceal yourself and ask, “Are you a traveller?”

He shakes his head. The wind plays with his hair the moment the sun emerges behind heavy clouds. Its natural glow lights up his figure, in all its holy glory. Well-toned, pierceless, inkless, chiseled features are all too accurate to be human. He is pure. There is very little scarring on his skin as well. He looks down right angelic, prophetic, utterly godly.

Has Namjoon really entertained your fantasies? You first made the suggestion off hand, completely innocent in your phrasing, until his face fell. Stone fierce gaze slicing through your soul, you couldn’t help but describe an ocean’s worth of desires involving more than one man by your side. You were fucked to tears against the tree until it’s branches were bare and the ground was covered in ripe fruit and loose leaves. You thought that would be the end of it. But now, as you carefully stare at the god while he shamelessly sips on your near nakedness, you wonder just how wrong you might have been.

“Have you come to watch?”

“To worship.”

Your arousal slicks your thighs. Pressing your legs together, you suppress the giddy shivers that caress your spine. Though excited, you really can’t believe Namjoon did it. It was a joke but, scanning the sun god’s frame once more, you’re glad he didn’t take it that way. Face flushed, you lie back in your previous position. On your side, breasts on full display, you toss your hair aside. As your lips part to question the details of his intentions, you catch a familiar silhouette by the sea, in the distance. Flickering your gaze between the two men, you wonder if this new god was sent to test your loyalty or limits? The figure nods. You smile.

Attention returning to the golden god, you ask, “Apollo, is it?”

“Taehyung,” he corrects.

“Is that the name you prefer I scream?”

He pauses. Those mismatched eyes widen at your intrepidity. Dazed in confusion, he scans your frame once again, as if reprocessing your presence. He’s underestimated your wits, you realize, but the newfound understanding in his eyes reassures you that it won’t happen again. Good. He’s a quick learner.

Quirking a brow at the blanket beneath you, he asks, “May I?”

You nod once. He licks his lips twice, bites on the bottom one, then seats himself beside you. On his side, bare chest on display, he takes in the scenery from this new angle. Flowers bloom under a peachy dawn, and the vast fields of greenery wither to sandy shores where the sea waves as a way of greeting. His cocky stare lingers on your boyfriend before settling back to your little shrine underneath the orange tree. It’s a parthenon all on its own, with you as the center of its divinity. This detail seems to intrigue him more than it should, but you assume it might also have something to do with being watched.

Taking his hand in yours, you feel the dimming warmth of the setting sun. Who’s manning the chariot, you wonder, and would he be willing to let you ride it? Your bones tremble beneath your flesh at the impression of a distant growl. Oh, right. You almost forgot Ares can read your mind. Being something of a soulmate, he’s connected to you in ways other gods are not. Another growl slices through your thoughts. Jealousy sounds so good on him. Hearing his frustrations, knowing he’s enjoying the way you indulge, flusters the anxious bundle of nerves at your core.

Taehyung chuckles. Inches away now, his hot breath fans over your cheek. Fingers trailing up from your hand, along your arm then to your neck, he wraps his hand around your throat. He presses his thumb in the divet just under your chin, teasing a choke but never actually going through with it. You wonder what Namjoon must be hissing by the sea. What kind of curses is he throwing? Just picturing his furious eyes and cliffed jaw tickles the pit of your stomach.

“You’re precious,” Taehyung whispers, lips pressed against your chin. “I understand why he hides you from us.”

Us? Olympus knows of your blasphemous citrus temple? Usually, this kind of revelation would grant you a lightning bolt to the heart and an eternity in Tartarus. Only this wakes something different in Taehyung. His breath shallows, erection pokes at your thigh. He’s aroused by the idea of worshipping someone as powerless as a mortal. Or perhaps, you wonder as Taehyung nibbles on your skin, he simply adores displaying his power. Either or, you decide to make the most of what your Ares has granted you. Gaze finding his broad frame again, you let out an exaggerated gasp.

Namjoon flinches. However, it isn’t until you press your body against Taehyung’s that he cringes. He shifts his weight, fist clenched by his sides and you swear you can see steam hovering over his head. Namjoon is livid. But, Taehyung is oblivious. Too consumed by your pleasure, he tightens his grip on your throat and trails his open-mouthed kisses down to your breasts. Nipple between his teeth, Taehyung groans in hunger. Tongue teasing, he licks to play, not to soothe any of the stings. Your toes and legs hook around his waist. Hips rolling, you tease a preview of what you have in mind.

Taehyung shifts half an inch away though. You know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the gesture, the throb against your hip reassuring you just how much he would really enjoy it. It still hurts your pride, however. Twinges of humiliation taint your soft features. He offers half a smirk as a means of comfort.

“He told me you’ve got quite a mouth.”

Is that an excuse or explanation? In both cases, it’s weak. He traces your face, fingertips so soft you almost forget the indirect rejection. Charming, his tiger starved gaze reflects hints of amusement. You’re easy prey, a fact that crumbles your courage. He is not here to coddle your pride, to serve the goddess of this naturous parthenon, but rather to obliviate it. A pitiful pile of pleasure is all he wishes to make of you. Though, now you wonder, is he doing this because he wants to, or because he’s ordered to?

Eyes darting between Apollo and Ares, you swallow thickly. The wondrous glow in Taehyung’s gaze makes you pause. Perhaps you’ve been too hasty. Perhaps they were both counting on that. The humiliation returns ten fold and prickles your skin upon realizing how careless you have been. Too quick to show your keen interest in devouring a different dose of daylight, you did not make Taehyung work as hard as he should’ve. And knowing that must have been what Namjoon was expecting only festers your heart with anger. This isn’t an opportunity to indulge, you conclude, but to reprimand. The both of them want to sip on your submission. The role of a meek mortal amuses them more than it should. It turns you on more than it should. So, you pull away more than you should.

Laying back on your elbows, you redirect your gaze to the sky. You can feel both pairs of eyes studying you. Taehyung props himself up on his forearm and looks over at your suddenly calmed features. It’s almost as if you’ve never exchanged a word at all.

“Funny,” you restart, all cards hidden this time. “He never mentioned you.”

Angry, confused, perhaps both, Taehyung stares. He blink, blink, blinks before he fully registers what’s been said. You can feel Namjoon’s delight though. The pride he has in the way you sassed a rival resonates deep in your core.

As you shimmy out of your dress, Taehyung finally scoffs a chuckle. You attempt to ignore the way it lights your soul with desire and focus on Namjoon’s silhouette. He looks closer, lurking by the tall grass, though still near the sand. Fully naked, you try to school your features and pretend you don’t notice the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches while Taehyung’s falls slack. Your hands rests on Taehyung’s bare thigh long enough to make him shudder and your boyfriend growl. It’s almost all too easy to push Namjoon’s buttons. He hates it when you do something simply because you can.

“You abuse your power,” he always tells you.

And, with a smile, you always reply, “I don’t abuse anything, Joonie. You just can’t refuse it.”

Taehyung seems to prove this statement now, falling prey to the way you toy with him. Half focused, you’re paying enough attention to him to feel his frustration. Displeased with the way you have your eyes glued on the god of war, Taehyung huffs and inches closer.

“Do I need to plant you an orange tree?” he teases. Well, he attempts to anyways. The resentment in his tone seeps through instead.

You bite back a smirk. “You can try.”

His eyes flash with annoyance. Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Taehyung raises a brow. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you can safely assume he’s highly debating it. His eyes shift around the tree the two of you currently lounge under. Sparing you a glance, he scoffs. Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s worth it, you wonder. It’s no matter to you. All it really means is more time spent frustrating him, teasing him beyond-

The ground crackles, splitting open with the presence of new roots. Bare branches rise and twist around the orange tree trunk. The deep green leaves sprout. Then, ripe figs bloom. They dangle closer to you than the oranges do. You don’t have much time to really admire them, however, as a loud rumble rattles your bones. The sound is enough to snap your fearful eyes to the seashore. Namjoon is gone.

Shit. Have you taken this too far? Namjoon did plant this tree for you. He had never so much so as looked at another mortal. His allegiance, devotion, and adoration has been declared to you on more than one occasion. You are all he ever sees, thinks, breathes. Swallowing thickly, you mentally call him back. It’s all in good fun, you try to convince him. A quiet hum from the other side of the line is enough to soothe your anxiety. You lean back into the other god.

Taehyung couldn’t be less concerned. Instead of searching for Namjoon, as you seem to be interested in doing, he latches his lips onto your shoulder, a single hand cupping your breast. You gasp. Taking this as an encouragement to continue, Taehyung trails a wet arrangement of open mouthed kisses along your neck. Lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he hisses, “Quite a fucking mouth, indeed.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your breast and continues, “Might need some good dick to keep it in check.”

The thought is appealing. So much so, that you cannot help the way your eyes widen and glisten with interest. Having his cock shoved down your throat while he growls at the sheer sight of it alone has compelled your undivided attention. But, Namjoon’s rage still scratches at your bones, warning you against playing too much.

You scoff. “Who says I don’t already have that?”

Taehyung does not reply. Not a smirk graces his lips nor breath escapes him. He simply leans in for a kiss. You find yourself giving in all too quickly. He slides his hand down to cup the space between your thighs and you cannot find it within you to push it away. In fact, you spread your legs further apart and tell yourself it’s reactive. The jolt of your hips up into his hand though… that might’ve been calculative.

But the simple gesture of rolling your hips into his palm has shown all your cards once more. He reclaims the power, pulling away from the kiss and your sex. He clutches onto your hair, a deadpan expression the only means of emotion now. In huffing silence, he yanks on your hair, guiding your head down to his crotch. You hiss, the gesture proving more pleasurable than painful as you feel a fresh rush of your wetness further stain your legs.

His silk skirt, pinned up and hanging from his hip by an arrowed, gold pin, lies in a disarried pile beside him. His huge cock is all that stands before you. He’s thicker than Namjoon, but, even with its impressive length, it does not compare to your boyfriend’s size. Taehyung is massive, but Namjoon is monstrous.

Your mouth still salivates all the same. Tip oozing precum, Taehyung shoves your face against his balls. His thick scent rolls your tongue out. Heavy in lust, he mostly smells of lemons and cream. You’ve always adored citrus… Namjoon knows this well. And though you expected to feel your boyfriend’s anger at this revelation, all you feel on the other side is emptiness. You wonder where he’s gone.

Or, at least you attempt to wonder. The moment you feel the impression of Taehyung’s weighty balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate. You swirl your tongue around each one before dropping them in your mouth. Suckling, drool dripping, your enthusiasm cannot be hidden any longer. Moaning maniactically, your eyes roll back.

Taehyung gasps and hisses. The peak of his groans, however, surfaces when you wrap a hand around his thick cock. You were ready to start pumping until you realized a single hand barely even covers half of him. Both hands wrapped around his length now, you twist and drag them up and down. Every so often, you tighten your grip a bit and let out a throaty moan. He shudders each time, legs trembling from your attention.

On your knees, with your ass up high for any onlookers to easily see, the wind lashes at your heat. You squeal, then pull his balls out of your mouth to spit on his cock. The thick wad makes it easier to pump him. Brows furrowed, he runs a hand through his golden hair and shakily sighs… then his sight sets on something behind you. He smirks, white canines a dangerous nod to his power.

A familiar hand rests on the small of your back, the other landing a harsh smack on your ass. You scream and fall forward onto Taehyung, face fully buried in his cock now. He laughs heartily, running a hand through your hair as a weak excuse for comfort.

The hand behind you does not stop after one smack. It goes in for second, then third, and before you know it, your ass is burning with stings and pussy wetter than the ocean behind you. The pain ignites something viciously erotic, cradling your heart enough to make you whimper. It’s the idea of being used, you assume, and it only makes you perk your ass up higher.

His raspy scoff makes you shiver, spine tingling with excitement. He gropes onto your ass and grunts, “Don’t try to be a good girl now.”

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Namjoon uses this harsh grip to shove your face further against Taehyung’s crotch. He pulls back and tries again, making sure your mouth engulfs his friend’s cock this time.

“You want to suck his cock, huh? Then fucking suck, you little slut,” he growls.

Your face flames with embarrassment. You can’t even bring yourself to meet Taehyung’s gaze. He merely laughs through a moan, leaning back on his hands as he watches you choke on his cock. You really can’t take him all in one go; you haven’t even found a way to take Namjoon in a single motion. But, your boyfriend couldn’t care less. He pushes your head down and keeps it there. Your jaw aches, throat burns, contracting around Taehyung’s thickness enough to make him throw his head back. Tears spill and spill and you foolishly think this will be the height of his punishment.

Then, in he goes.

“Such a wet little bitch,” Namjoon hisses as he pushes his cock into your pussy.

You let out a strangled whine against Taehyung, much to his pleasure, and attempt to spread your legs, but Namjoon keeps them in place. They’re barely a hip’s length apart. The pain prickles against your pussy’s wall, making you gag a sob around Taehyung’s cock. The pressure of Namjoon’s huge dick behind you and the weight of Taehyung’s in your mouth trembles your posture. You shake under the intimidation and it doesn’t help at all that Taehyung’s dick is suffocating you.

Namjoon pulls your head up the moment he fully enters. Gasping, you try to catch your breath. You inhale deeply each time, worried Namjoon will shove you back down on Taehyung’s cock without warning. Instead, he gives you a quick moment to breathe, ramming in and out of you like he’s riding a stallion.

Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, admires the way you drool and babble all over yourself. You heave, holding his gaze long enough to realize he’s mocking you, tongue out and breathes exasperated. Then he laughs and Namjoon laughs, and your pride shrivels up. Dignity on the brink of shattering, you try to avoid his gaze, biting your lip to swallow your moans as Namjoon works his way in and out of you.

But Taehyung will not have any of that. He nudges your wet chin back to him and teasingly pouts. “Is baby embarrassed?” he asks, tone more menacing than that taunting gaze of his. You glare at him, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Cupping your chin, Taehyung squeezes your cheeks to pucker your lips. “Answer me,” he seethes.

Parting your lips, you’re about to confirm his statement when Namjoon grunts behind you. He thrusts his hips particularly harder this time and your balance crumbles. You fall over Taehyung. He catches you with his lips, his hand trailing from your face to your neck and gripping onto it like he owns it.

Namjoon is displeased. With a growl, he snaps his hips up, balls shoving their way in you too. Your teeth knock with Taehyung, causing him to grunt and glare at the god behind you. You watch him stare your boyfriend down while tightening his grip on your neck. He goes to say something, a curse judging by the placement of his lips in his teeth, but Namjoon pulls you out of his grasp before Taehyung can even get a syllable out.

Replacing Taehyung’s hand with his own on your neck, Namjoon pulls you back up against his chest. His other hand wraps around your waist. Lips to the shell of your ear, he hammers into you and whispers, “Don’t go forgetting who you belong to.”

You hold Taehyung’s hard stare. His face reddens, cheeks drawn into his mouth as he glares. You whimper, pouting and nodding to Namjoon, but neither one of them seems convinced. Taehyung’s brows raise as if you’ve given him some sort of sign, and Namjoon’s hissing warnings against getting carried away.

“Better not say his name.”

Out of sheer spite, you part your lips to utter the other’s name. However, the word is consequently pounded right out of your mind the moment it emerges. Neither god gives you another moment to develop a reply at all as they battle for your attention. A part of you wishes that each of them simply takes turns, but you already know how useless that would be. Neither one of them will be willing to wait and watch. Namjoon already slipped himself in, the act of watching being too distant for him.

And it seems to be the same for Taehyung as well. He can’t sit still, can’t just watch you get ravished by someone else. You catch the annoyed twinkle in his eye darkening every time Namjoon makes you scream. Swallowing thickly, Taehyung shifts so that he’s lying by your knees and pulls the plump, upper flesh of your pussy apart. Then, smirking, he dips his head in and enthusiastically sucks on your clit. Teeth grazing, he bites and nibbles, drawing the most high-pitched squeals out of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face further against your pussy.

Namjoon huffs a groan against your cheek. Pounding in full force, he loosens his grip on you a bit. Your hips jolt forward, Taehyung’s teeth clamping down on your clit. You cry out, both hands back over Namjoon’s arm. The god by your knees did not escape unscathed either, his lips slightly bruised from the hit. He drags his gaze up to you, glare deadly.

Guts twisting in ecstasy and guilt, you whimper and shake your head. “Sorr-”

Your apology clinches in your throat as Namjoon tightens his grip on it. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy whore,” he grunts into your hair.

Taehyung catches onto Namjoon’s sly gesture quickly, hungry eyes aflame for vengeance. “Keep her still, or I’ll fuck her into the ground.” His deep voice tickles the swirling pit of your stomach. So rich and raspy, his dulcet voice guides you closer to your orgasm than you’d be brave enough to admit.

Subsequently, Taehyung relatches his lips to your clit. Namjoon swallows enough of his pride not to shake him off again. And you shudder as high doses of ecstasy creep over your nerves. It pumps your veins with excitement, anticipation and sheer joy. Even when they’ve mocked you and used you as a pocket pussy- a set of holes, you cannot deny how horny it makes you for them.

Namjoon huffs your name in your ear, whispering about your tightness, about how he knows how fucking close you are. “Baby is gonna cream,” he mockingly coos. “Do you want him to taste you? Are you that much of a slut, you want another man to taste you? He’ll get addicted.” Namjoon grunts thrice before continuing, “But you already know that, right? You want him addicted. You want him to worship that little cunt of yours, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck yes!” you screech. Whether it is in reply to his questions or simply a reaction to the dual assault of your pussy, you’re not quite certain. But, Namjoon is. And he’s irate. Shaking with anger, his pounds reach a pace unknown to gods, even Taehyung raises an impressed brow.

Your next intake of air cinches somewhere in your throat. You try to scream, to cry, to make some sort of sound as your cum rushes out of you. Gushing, slouching, your pussy makes enough noise that your mouth doesn’t need to. Both men fall victim to it - to you - anyway. Squirming in Namjoon’s hold, there’s very little you can do. Your mind is foggy, vision blurry, but it doesn’t stop either of them. A distant clash of throaty moans fill the fields, though you can’t register much of that either. Your ears are ringing too much to hear more than your own heartbeat struggling to keep up.

Taehyung growls, his hands constantly knocking against Namjoon’s. Your dazed gaze falls to meet his. Eyes blazed with sexual frustration, he claws at your hips and pulls you forward against him. Namjoon, however, keeps a strong hold on your waist. Your torso’s his for the taking. He grabs hold of your chin and whips your head back to him.

“You look at me when you cum,” he seethes. “Or you won’t cum at all next time.”

Half a breath escapes you in response, but it seems to be half a breath too late. Namjoon emits a raspy groan so sinister it would be a crime to simply call it a growl. He roars. You feel the vibrations of the sound in your spine, another dose of your cum rushing through you. Then, all too quickly, he lets go of you. It takes his hands off your chest for you to realize your legs gave out long ago. You instantly fall to your knees. Taehyung is quick to catch you in his arms. Lips inches apart, Taehyung looks ready to share some of his oxygen with you when Namjoon orders, “Turn her around.”

Taehyung glares over your head. Gulping, his lips twitch in a fake smile as he lifts you. You, however, cannot let him give in that easily. Besides, nothing is better than angering the god of war. His stubborn, victory-bound heart will not rest until you submit to him over Taehyung. And, throwing you into the enemy’s arms does not seem like he’s trying hard enough to win, to discipline you. So, after Taehyung turns you around in his lap, you press a passionate kiss upon his lips, slipping your tongue in for good measure. Taehyung snakes his hand between your legs too, fingers playing all too much for you to stay silent. Between kisses, you sneak a glance at Namjoon, finding Taehyung already doing the same thing.

Towering over you, skin inked, nipples pierced, muscles flexed and slick with sweat, Namjoon huffs. His jaw is locked, a gesture you’ve learned isn’t at all meant to be comforting. With his cheeks sucked in and a brow quirked, Namjoon jerks himself off to the sight of you so openly defiant.

“Open your dirty mouth,” Namjoon orders through gritted teeth. “I need to clean it out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, his fingers ceasing their movements as he cups your sex instead. “So dramatic,” he teases, earning a cold stare from Namjoon.

You resist the urge to giggle, having to choose your battles carefully. Taehyung has already gotten too much attention anyways, you decide. Pushing his hand away from your pussy, you ignore the wet kisses Taehyung peppers upon the nape of your neck and gaze up at Namjoon with your mouth open.

He bites his lip to keep from smirking. And, with a loud, chest drawn groan, he releases his load all over your chin and breasts. The warmth of his cum sets your skin ablaze. It feels just as thick as it tastes. Licking around your face, you try to swallow whatever you can get. A little smile breaks out on Namjoon’s face, swelling your heart with pride.

However, Taehyung isn’t as moved by the gesture as you are. He tangles a hand in your hair and pulls your head back against his shoulder. “That’s enough of that,” he breathes over your face. Then he wipes the rest of Namjoon’s cum off with the pad of his thumb and pecks your lips. He rubs the cum into your nipples, teasing them between his thumb and forefinger.

You almost forget Namjoon's presence. That is, until he grabs hold of your ankles and yanks you right out of Taehyung’s hold. With a loud gasp, you’re on your back, legs spread and Namjoon at the center. He gazes lazily down at you, like handling your body is a casual passtime. There is something glittering within that suspicious ease, however. Something cocky, angry, and terrifying. Hand around your neck, Namjoon jerks you off the floor and shoves you back into Taehyung’s arms.

The golden god catches you with a grunt. He draws his brows together in confusion, silently questioning Namjoon. He parts his lips, but your boyfriend huffs, cutting him off. Namjoon grabs you by your bicep and turns you around to face Taehyung.

After making sure your legs are spread and straddling the other god’s waist, Namjoon seethes, “The simplest instructions.” His warm tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. Between nibbles he continues, “You can’t even follow the simplest instructions. That can’t be easily forgiven anymore, baby.”

You’re not quite sure what he means, considering he’s never punished you in this position before. Usually, being on top is a reward. He grants you a sliver of control, consequence free, when you’ve been well-behaved. This level of generosity is a rarity. However, as Namjoon pushes you further into Taehyung, with you wrapped around his torso, you begin to wonder what kind of punishment you’re in for, and which one of them is administering it.

Of course, these thoughts are fleeting as Taehyung’s fat cock prods around your pulsing hole. Sparks of bliss set to flames the nerves bunching around your clit. You shudder each time he brushes his tip against it. Petting your hair back just to grab it, Taehyung breathes a chuckle into the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks on your delicate skin like you belong to him. And for a split second, you almost think you do. The sweet, wet kisses and the way he eases into you only just has you forgetting that Namjoon is standing over you, watching as another god worships.

With a smack, your memories jolt back. The sting of both cheeks makes you all too aware of his presence now. You cry out, falling over Taehyung clumsily. The spank hit so hard, so fast that it even has Namjoon hissing from the impact. Even still, he smacks you again and again and again. “You still have no idea what you’ve asked for, do you?” he questions.

You thought you did. You hoped you did. But, as Namjoon spanks you with added force, you realize just how right he is. You whimper into Taehyung’s shoulder. He’s kept his cock warm in your tight, clenching hole when Namjoon begins to get vicious with his spanks. Chuckling and mocking you in whispers, Taehyung finds your suddenly all too obedient state entertaining. It flames your face with shame, your entire body caught between wanting another serving of cock or slaps. He imitates your whimpers, coaxing more tears out of you before hissing, “If you had any real shame, you’d get off my cock and go suck your boyfriend’s.”

“She’s a fucking slut,” Namjoon answers, landing another slap to your tenders cheeks. “Why’d you stop fucking her?”

Some humanity flashes in Taehyung’s eyes as you nuzzle your face against his. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, “She can’t handle it.”

“She can!” Namjoon grunts as he finally rubs your pain buzzed ass. A shaky whine escapes you and tickles Taehyung’s ear. “You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, digging his nails into your flesh.

You whine in agreement. It’s not enough. He needs to hear you say- scream it. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he peels you off Taehyung enough for him to get a good look at your face. He folds his hands under his head, smirking at the sight of you so shattered by pleasure of being in pain. Face flushed, wet, cum stained and eyes innocent, your features fold in raptured anguish.

Namjoon roughly kneads your right cheek while pressing the length of his cock against it. “Can you take the fucking like a good girl?” He mockingly coos. It juts a chorus of shivers down your spine.

You squeeze tight around Taehyung at the thought. He rasps your name. Namjoon growls lowly, rubbing himself against you as he warns, “You’re not gonna make me ask you a third time, are you?”

Taehyung shifts his hips, cinching your breath at your throat from the stroke of friction. Why did he have to be so big, so pretty and hot staring at you like that? Why’d you have to go tempting gods you know you can’t keep up with? You regret angering Namjoon, realizing that jealousy is the worst power trip you can feed a god. They both want to watch you fall apart, crumble into a pile of bones. Tears spill at the thought, pussy aching around a cock too big to adjust to. Every nerve feels so sensitive, so overused, yet you need to cum again.

No. You can’t take it. But, you’ll be damned if you tell either of them that. And as Namjoon lays another sharp smack on your cheeks, tingling with pain, you circle your hips around Taehyung’s and cry out a broken, breathy and utterly desperate, “Y-es!”

Taehyung grips onto your hips, pulling you half out. You expect to be plunged onto his cock with a new degree of force, but find another one attempting to squeeze in as well. Namjoon’s monster cock pushing into your pussy alongside Taehyung’s. Your jaw drops, eyes roll back as that viciously delicious stretch strangles your soul with bliss. He enters you slow, but sharp, knowing full well that the both of them cannot fit.

Neither cares. Both gods create a quickly speeding rhythm of thrusts into you. Body jolting forwards, breasts shaking over Taehyung’s face and ass bouncing against Namjoon’s hips. He hunches over you to groan your name in your ear, voice husky with lust and dominance. He repeats the word like a prayer. Every syllable drips slow out of his lips like thick molasses when his voice reaches such depth.

You try to lean back into him, but Taehyung keeps you in place with the tight grip on your hips. “Stay still,” he grunts against your nipple. Then, he sucks on it, teasing the little nub between his teeth.

You moan a little too loud at Taehyung’s ministrations for Namjoon’s liking. Both hands locked on your ass, Namjoon pushing your cheek up and against Taehyung. You lose whatever balance you had weighted on your arms, falling flat against the sun god with a squeal. His cock fully plugs into you and when he tries to thrust up against you once more, Namjoon growls, “Both of you stay still.”

A shiver tickles your spine with the wind. As Taehyung kisses your neck, you attempt to sneak a peek at your boyfriend over your shoulder and push your ass back into him. He’s sweaty and huffing. The peachy sunset behind him halos around his muscular frame. He’s so pretty when he’s mad, all those veins lacing his inked skin like little spider webs. His gaze finds yours, that annoyed look intensifying in his eyes when you wink at him.

And though it was completely innocent, it still switches something off in Namjoon. He shifts his tight grip on your ass to the small of your back then, all at once, presses down onto it with the entirety of his strength. A series of loud cracks elicit from your spine like the fire of a gun at the start of a race. And away go his hips as he rams in and out of your too full pussy.

Screams and sudden sobs pour out of you and onto Taehyung as the both of you get shaken by Namjoon’s force. You know your back isn’t broken, blown out maybe, but definitely not broken. You just didn’t think this would be the result of his jealousy and anger. Did he think you were mocking him with that wink, with Taehyung? Perhaps some mocking did occur with Taehyung around, but he’s always liked your snarkier side. He tells you to behave because he knows you won’t and adores it when you don’t. But, maybe you did take it too far, and give into Taehyung too much. You really wish you can say, with all this overstimulating and teasing and taunting, that you regret it all.

Only, you don’t.

Clutching tighter onto Taehyung’s shoulders, your tears fall as freely as your broken moans. Namjoon smacks his hips over your ass, pounding your pussy like it’s just you two here. It’s not as though Taehyung is lying under you, obsessing over how tight you are and just how amazing you smell.

“You know why he’s so mad right,” he questions quietly, voice strained. When you shake your head, he chuckles and whispers, “Because he knows how much better I make you feel.”

The whimper that leaves you was by no means a response to whatever Taehyung was going on about. Though he gives it to you great, he doesn’t compare to your boyfriend. You suppose Namjoon knows this too, somewhere within that deep connection you two share. Still, he holds you further down against Taehyung, practically melding your body into his, and thrusts at an ungodly speed just as he did when he caught you sucking Taehyung’s cock.

You’re not sure either of them understand the load of pleasure they are washing over you. Taehyung has his giant cock stationed in your pussy with his tip pressing continuously against your g-spot as Namjoon’s monstrous cock jabs at it again and again.

Body trembling, voice broken, you squeal, “I’m- ahhgh I’m gon-na cuu-uum.”

“Me too,” Taehyung husks in your ear. It has you clenching tighter.

Namjoon scoffs through a moan. “No, you’re fucking not.”

“But, Joon-”

A harsh smack against your ass silences your protests. “You know what to do when you’re close,” he grunts.

Yes, you do. But there isn’t much time to beg. You have two huge cocks in you and if he thinks he can coax some sort of plea-

“Fuck,” you cry as he spanks you again.

“ASK!” he roars, hands on your back just to make it crack all over again.

Drooling, whimpering, eyes rolling, you somehow find it in you to hold back your orgasm long enough to beg, “Please, fuck, just let me cum! Please, please, Namjoon!”

“Just fucking let her cum,” Taehyung grunts.

Namjoon snakes one of his hands up your spine, hips still ramming into you all the same, and latching onto your hair. Slowly, he peels you off of Taehyung and holds you against his chest. You screw your eyes shut in an attempt not to cream both their cocks.

With his lips at your ear, he whispers, “Look down at him.” After forcing your eyes open and down at Taehyung, who looks all too pleased with your ruined state, Namjoon orders, “Thank him for a good time.”

Panting, lips a spitty mess, you whimper, “Thank you for a good time.”

Taehyung rubs your thighs. “She’s just as fun when she’s a good girl,” he hisses to himself.

Namjoon chuckles, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “You’re my best girl either way,” he whispers to you. The praise makes you shiver, your orgasm almost slipping right out of your control.

“Please let me cum now,” you cry. “Please, I need it.”

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Namjoon peppers little kisses along your jawline. “Shall we all cum together?” he asks before nodding to Taehyung. The sun god’s hips jolt back to act and soon each one is back to taking turns to smash your already too sensitive spot.

You nod energetically. Truthfully, you don’t care if either one of them cums, just as long as they let you do it now.

Taehyung shifts one of his hands further up your hips, his thumb working fast and small circles over your clit. You’re quaking, head thrown back against Namjoon’s shoulders, eyes rolling and screwed shut when Namjoon orders you to look at him. You force them open enough to watch a wicked swirl of power and lust gleam in his eyes. With a single breath, lips hovering over yours, he whispers, “Cum.”

Your vision spots black before failing all together as an extreme dose of ecstasy floods your senses. Their growls collide with your breathless screams in a cacophony of pleasure with each shot of cum they fill you with. And you return the favour, coating each cock with more cum than you think you’ve ever offered. In and out, they still go, desperate to leave you dripping with the impression of both of them for days.

Namjoon spits in your mouth a bit and chuckles quietly when you still find it in you to swallow it. “You just had to be a fucking brat, hmm?” he groans as both his and Taehyung’s thrusts slow down. “Are you satisfied now?”

You hear his words and think that maybe you are processing them, but you really can’t find enough of your voice or energy to respond. Heaving, you know your body gave out well before he even got you in this position and blew your back out. You don’t even realize that you’re slobbering all over yourself until Namjoon licks it all away. Only little whimpers and whines manage to reply to him. It only strengthens that power blown look in his eyes.

Taehyung suddenly pulls himself out of you. Or rather, Namjoon pulls you up and off his cock. Then, he stands up on his knees and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, despite Namjoon’s annoyed groan. “And thank you for such a great evening, my-”

“She’s not yours!”

You watch through somewhat blurry vision as the two gods glare at each other. Taehyung then glances over at the fig vines laced around the orange tree. With a smirk, he nods. His hands fondle your breast one more time before he grabs what little clothes he came with. Then, with the sun, he’s gone.

Basking in the glow of the moon, Namjoon slowly pulls out of you. His touches are now all too gentle to even register, or maybe your skin is simply still on fire from such a rough fucking. Either way, he’s careful in how he handles you now. Cradling you to his chest, he helps you lay down. He kisses your forehead and mutters, “Take a deep breath.”

You do so. Again and again. When you’re breathing somewhat regulates, your mind finally catches up with where you are now. Resting in Namjoon’s arms, his silk skirt draped over your body like a blanket, you gaze up at the stars.

“He planted figs,” Namjoon mutters.

You shift against his chest before shrugging. “He did.” You’re not sure why that simple detail seems to tick him off so much. They’re just figs.

“Do you still like oranges though?”

It suddenly clicks in your head. His anger translating into worry. Does he really think that you’d give him up for Taehyung? He should know you well enough to know he’s your world. And if you weren’t so sore or weak, you would have gotten up and picked the ripest orange and shared it with him. Instead, you turn in his lap, suppressing the urge to hiss at the sparks of pain running up and down your back, and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love oranges.”

He fights off a smile, but relief reflects in his gaze. “I’m sure they love you too,” he mutters like he hasn’t told you so before.

It all doesn’t matter too much anyways. He’s yours and you’re his. No other god, no matter how many times they stop by, will change that. This is, after all, your orange tree.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

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