Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as you slowly started to ride him. The sensation of his length disappearing into your pussy made you gasp.

”So nice and big…” You whispered against his lips, a smile pulling onto your lips. He smiled back and placed his forehead against yours. You both stared at each other in silence, enjoying your bodies being joined.

You bounced on his lap, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filled the room. The sound made your pussy wetter, and it turned you on even more.

“Mmm…” Taehyung groaned as he placed his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your collarbone and neck.

He grabbed your hips and pushed you down against his dick, hard. Your walls squeezed around him as you let out a moan, feeling him reach all the nice spots in your pussy.

Your hands tangled in his hair as he thrusted up into you. When the both of you were tired of this position, he picked you up and laid you down on the hotel bed, where he started to pound into you.

“Taehyung…” You whispered in a needy tone. “Don’t ever stop, don’t ever stop fucking me. I don’t want this to end. I want you, forever and always.” You whispered as you looked up to him, holding onto his hands. “Please, promise me. Promise me that you won't stop making love to me.”

Taehyung let out a deep sigh and leaned down, kissing your lips.

”I promise, y/n, I will never stop fucking you, never. You feel so fucking good around my cock, and you're so beautiful, I can't live without your body, and I can't live without you.” He murmured against your lips.

Butterflies filled your stomach when you heard his words, and you hugged him tight, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The both of you moaned into each other's mouth as your bodies moved in unison, his cock going in and out of you, hitting all the good spots.

He was driving you crazy, and you were driving him crazy, and both of you loved it.

He loved you.

You loved him.

But you could never be together, and both of you knew that.

So, you just enjoyed the moments for however long they’d last.

“Yes, yes, right there, mm, yes!” You whimpered as he pounded into you. He knew exactly what to do to make you go crazy.

After a while, the both of you were so close. Your moans were getting louder and higher pitched, and his breathing was getting faster and heavier. You couldn’t think of anything except the amazing feeling between your legs. His cock was so thick and hard, and his hands were everywhere.

And then you felt it.

The wave of pleasure that crashed through your body, making your legs shake and your eyes roll back. Your toes curled and you gripped the bedsheets.

He wasn't far behind.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck as his cock throbbed and he spilled his load into your pussy. The feeling of his cum filling you was something that made your body tremble. You could feel it dripping out of you as his cock continued to twitch inside of you.

Taehyung leaned down again and kissed you as he allowed his cock to empty completely inside of you, and you kissed him back, stroking his face.

what i’m am willing to write:

✰ fluff

✰ angst (though it’s not my strong-suit)

✰ mxm / wlw

✰ smut including but not limited to:

★ dubious consent

★ somnophilia

★ hybrid

★ yandere

★ monster/ supernatural

any other questions can be sent to either my inbox or dms

what i will not write:

✰ vore

✰ non-con

✰ incest

✰ pregnancy aus

Your eyes widen slightly, stomach immediately wringing. Wow, no need to waste time with pleasantries clearly. “O-k…” you respond stiffly. There’s a fleeting thought that just maybe this past week was more painful for you than for him, if he can greet you so coldly. 

He comes inside when you step back, leaving the door open for him. Then he runs a hand through his hair as he looks around, terribly impatient. “Where is it?”

“Damn. Didn’t realize you were in such a rush,” you mumble as you turn.

“Got a gig tonight.”

“‘Course you do,” you say just as you disappear through the doorway into the bedroom.

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it works,” he calls out, clearly having heard you. 

Ignoring his gaze, you walk back out with the big box of stuff – more than you’d thought it would be before you’d compiled all the things he’d forgotten on the day Jungkook helped him move out. 

You don’t reply, refusing to take the bait.

He receives the open box, rests it on the entrance table that not long ago was home to two sets of keys, and starts to pick through it. “What’s this?”

You look over from where you’re standing with your arms crossed, filled with tension because the strength of Taehyung’s gravitational pull comes back so fast and hard every time. You step closer. “What?”

“This?” he says more softly, holding up the faded blue t-shirt that was shared between the two of you so many times that you can’t even remember who it originally belonged to. Though, now that you think of it… “It’s yours.”

“Oh, yeah… I guess you wore it so often, my brain forgot,” you say awkwardly. It feels like his shirt. As much as this apartment feels like his apartment. As much as your hands feel like his hands, and your body feels like his body. 

He looks at you unhappily. Stares actually, even once you break the eye contact and take an audible breath, feeling too exposed. Taehyung’s never been one to care much about social cues.

“I mean, you– you can have it,” you say finally, trying to make the moment end. He was rushing you but now all you want is for him to go so you can cry in peace, with or without the blue shirt that will probably never cease to smell like him anyway. 

“Don’t…. do that,” he says, struggling to get the words out.

“Do what?”

“Say it like this is really… it.” There’s a wobble in his voice though he’s trying to keep his eyes hard, his jaw set. You can see it all so clearly. 

You breathe, determined to keep your composure. But Taehyung is your weakness. “This is it, Tae. You moved out.”

“Because you wanted me to.”

You shake your head slightly, looking down, biting at your lip. “I don’t want to talk about this again. We just go in circles.”

A moment passes. 

“I don’t want it,” he says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes either as he thrusts his hand out with the shirt clutched in it.

You look his hand back up to his face, then your arm slowly lifts. “Um, ok, I’ll… keep it,” you say quietly, not sure how to navigate this without upsetting him – and yourself – more. 

But when you take hold of the shirt, he doesn’t release it, just stares solemnly down at your hands as he lets out a breath. 

It hurts. 

Trying to figure out how to be merciful, you step closer and whisper: “You can keep it. It’s ok.”

“That’s not what I want,” he whispers back, and you can see the wetness in his eyes. “I don’t want any of this.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you say helplessly, coming even closer to him because you really can’t help it, the shirt still caught between where both of your arms hang loosely between the two of you. “I told you I can’t do it. You’re gone, and then when you are here, I feel like I barely see you anyway.”

“It won’t be like that all the time,” he urges, something he keeps repeating, despite you both knowing it can’t be true. 

You close your eyes, sighing. “You guys are only getting bigger...–”

“Exactly. So I’ll have more power to make decisions. I can choose to be home with you.”

“But you won’t,” you breathe. He never wants to admit that he has trouble choosing you, but it’s become too loud for you to ignore.

He pulls slightly on the t-shirt, bringing you an inch closer, your free hand naturally finding his elbow. Then he peers heartbreakingly down at you. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you say softly. You don’t say it back even though he knows it’s true. 

He tilts his head forward as his eyes fall closed, his forehead meeting yours. 

There’s no choice but to stay still. In the moment with him. Chest tightening as you try to take a good breath. You really don’t want him to be in pain. God, it hurts.

“I love you,” he repeats more quietly, and your eyes fall closed too. 

It’s not enough. You can’t say it though. He’s too fragile to hear it, even if he already knows it inside. 

He tilts his head slightly, face coming closer to yours so the pull of his lips is strong. Addicting, like always. 

“I don’t want to sleep alone anymore,” you whisper. A last ditch attempt.

“I’m right here.”

You ignore his words, and try your best to ignore the way his hands are slipping around your waist and squeezing, the old shirt becoming trapped between your bodies. “All I do is wonder whether you’re thinking about me. And if you’re happy. If you’re safe.”

“I think about you all the time,” he says in that seductive way, shifting his head a bit more so that his lips just brush against yours. “On stage, on the road, at night on the bus when I can’t sleep.” Lifting a hand to your jaw, he kisses you then, making you suck in a tight breath. “When I’m in the shower, I think about you. About touching you. Having you right here.” Another squeeze. Another kiss.

You sigh shakily into his mouth. It’s so familiar. Mainly in the sense that it knocks you down every time. 

He kisses you deeper, pulling your whole body against him, and despite your hands jumping to his chest, soft leather under your fingers, you don’t push him away. Not even a little. He steps forward and you go with him, disoriented, until your ass is hitting the back of the couch. No where else to go, he changes direction, pulling you instead to follow after him as he backs towards the bedroom, all without even separating your lips. 

You know with everything in you that this is not solving anything, can only make things worse, in fact. You’d been strong for a whole week, not texting him, not calling him, not showing up at the guys' apartment in the middle of the night, all torn up and missing him. You thought about it, yes – but you didn't. 

“Tae,” you breathe when you break your lips apart in front of the bed, but that’s the closest you can come to trying to stop him.  

He shucks his jacket off then crawls on with you, inching forward overtop of you as you inch back. “I miss you,” he says as he lowers his mouth back to your lips then veers off to the side, kissing your jaw then your neck with a languid hunger. 

“This isn’t…” you try but your arms are around him, holding him loosely as he paints kisses down your throat, breathing heavily, so focused. “This can’t fix the problem,” you whisper, eyes squeezed shut, brows contorted above them. 

He lifts up, enough to look you so earnestly in the eye, and says: “We’ll figure it out.”

You breathe out, half-sigh half-moan, as a hand runs over your body and his lips find your pulse point. His words would bring you more peace if you believed them. He believes them; that you are sure of. But Taehyung seems to always naively believe that things will work out, regardless of his actions.

“I promise.” He pulls your shirt off and you let him. Then his shirt. Then your pants. And his. Each punctuated by more hot delicious kisses that make your body scream. 

“Tae,” you whisper again, more pathetically, because you’re really trying even though it seems like you're not. 

He slips his hand down between your legs, rubs gentle circles over the thin material, letting you feel how much your body has already said yes. It feels electric, even over your panties, and you gasp, tangling your hands in his long hair and arching into him.

“Baby... can we please just pretend for a moment that nothing else exists?” he asks softly, breath hitting your skin, kissing you more before you can even reply.

That’s what it always feels like. That’s what you always think. It’s like two different worlds. Making love to Taehyung, and then everything else. 

And he’s calling you baby, and he tastes so good and comforting, and his fingertips are pulling aside the cotton to get to the slippery mess that you can’t help. 

“Just wanna feel you,” he breathes into your neck before inhaling deeply, sliding his fingers through your folds at the same time.

“Fuck,” you squeak as your body tenses, hips canting to direct him to your hole that suddenly feels so empty. 

“Hear your pretty sounds. Mmm–” he adds, dragging more of your wetness to your clit to swirl around it, starting to watch your face intently as your expression turns to pure whimpering desperation, begging eyes locked on his as your lips part. 

He watches for a few moments then leans down, kisses the corner of your mouth as he swirls a little faster, blissing you out with the sharp stimulation. Your eyes squeeze shut again, a long drawn out moan falling from you as you feel that knot pulling in your tummy. 

“Fuck, Tae,” you whine in way of warning but he just continues, licking his lips, watching you intently as the pleasure surges through you.

“Gonna come like this already?” he rasps into your ear but he’s not surprised in the slightest. He’s extremely well-practiced in making you come, however he likes, whenever he likes, however many times he likes. 

Nothing else exists when his hands are on you. The room already feels like it’s spinning, his body the only thing grounding you to the bed. You can’t even remember why he’s here. 

“Gonna come,” you breathe out in a relinquishing sigh, sinking fully into the feeling of him, his hand working expertly between your legs, and his perfect mouth which is now kissing down your chest, sucking teasingly on your nipple.

He hums his satisfied response, not changing a single thing about what he’s doing until you’re jerking and crying out with the onslaught of your climax, body arching off the bed, hips running away from his hand, fingers digging into the sheets. 

“God, fuck, Tae–” you choke, twisting, closing your legs because you’re too fucking sensitive for him to keeping rubbing the way he is, but then he slips his fingers lower, sinking them into your dripping wetness, making you curse all over again. 

“Wanna make you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, shifting so he’s lying on his side right up against you, hooking a leg over yours to keep it open. He tangles his other hand in your hair, pulling it a little, bouncing your attention to the slight pain before it gets dragged back down to the spot inside of you that he’s pressing against over and over. “Make you come so hard you can’t even think.”

Pathetically, you’re already halfway there, whimpering at his words and grinding your hips down against his fingers. “Please, please, please,” you whisper quietly, unsure what you’re asking for because he’s already exactly where you want him. 

“So good to me. So fucking good to me so I’m gonna be good to you too, ok?” he assures, pressing more kisses to your chest, your neck, your lips, whatever he can reach without having to take away from the perfect rhythm he’s found inside you. 

You moan, walls clenching tighter around him, your wetness no doubt squishing out around his fingers onto his knuckles. 

“Good girl. Just focus on me,” he continues, his voice so smooth and low and raspy, like he’s been working it too hard lately. He bites gently at your ear lobe, thrusting his fingers a little faster, then groaning in your ear, performatively because he knows what it does to you when it sounds like he’s being pleasured just from touching you. “Fuck, baby,” he moans in whisper.

Your breathing is getting heavier, your hips moving faster. God, you want to come again so bad, but it’s wavering out of reach. You want more, something bigger or faster or harder, or just something. 

He whimpers in your ear. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. God, I can’t wait to fuck the shit out of you.”

You gasp, tilting your head back into the pillow, feeling him adjust his arm slightly so he can fuck into you that much harder. 

“Come again for me and I will, ok? … I’ll fill you up so good. Stretch out this tight little pussy.” He kisses hot against your skin then whimpers again, groaning when it gets exactly the desired reaction, you writhing and letting out a sob, walls pulsing around him. “Baby, I want to fuck you so bad. Please, please, come for me. Please. Come like a good girl for me,” he begs, practically tauntingly with how it’s dripping with his exaggerated neediness. 

It works as it always does, the breath that you suck in getting caught inside you as your orgasm blinds you. Your body tenses, lifts, silence in the room save for the gushing sound between your legs until it’s run its course enough for you to let out a shaky throaty moan as everything releases.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praises hard, still fucking his fingers into you but slowly, placing less pressure on your front wall. “Ok, baby?”

You nod, taking heavy breaths, strikes of pleasure still shooting through you intermittently, especially when he brushes his thumb over your clit in a lazy circle. “Fuck… fuck…” you’re still whispering, even once your high has fully subsided because he still just feels so good, playing you like an instrument that he mastered long ago. 

He kisses you, directing your head sideways with his hold on your hair while his other hand continues to dance between your legs, then he’s shifting, pressing up over top of you to slip his boxers down. 

You don’t even have to think to open your legs wider, raise your arms to embrace him, palms slipping over the soft skin of his back as he hovers over you. He teases at your entrance, brushing over your swollen clit, then it’s only a few seconds before he’s pressing into the wetness with a chesty groan, stretching you wide.

As soon as he’s slotted inside you, he leans down, wrapping around you, meeting your body as much as he can, his hips doing all the work of a slowly steady roll into you that has him hitting so right. “Feel so fucking perfect,” he mumbles before pressing a sensuous kiss to your lips, keeping it in sync with the delicious wave of his body against yours. 

This is truly the reason you shouldn’t be letting this happen. He’s capable of sinking you so deep into him, like you’re drowning but you don’t even want to come up for air. Every single bit of him sparks something in you.

He fucks you with his whole body, and in return, you accept him with all of yours, your back arching, hips moving in tandem with the way his cock pushes in and out, dragging against your walls, and pulling in just the way that has you digging your nails into his back.  

Gradually, he moves faster, breathing a little heavier with the way he’s started to pound down into your cunt. Still, it somehow feels romantic – because it’s him and you love him, and your body loves him, and there’s not much Taehyung can do without it feeling romantic.

Even though neither of you say it now, you can feel his “I love you” with each thrust, hear it with each ragged breath he lets out, each groan pulled from his throat. 

When you come, you come together, holding each other tight, moans and curses filling the air. You’re still shaking, he’s still pulsing inside of you, barely over your highs, when he cradles your head in his hands and says, “I need you.” He kisses you slow and deep. “Baby, I need you to stay. I don’t know how to fix it but I promise I will.”

You try to breathe, blinking up at him. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he says again with a sure nod and the sweetest eyes before pulling you into another kiss. “I don’t want anyone else. You’re it.”

You know you’re not thinking clearly. But this time, you believe him too.

A/N: i don't think i'm capable of writing Tae without making him a moody lil -----. i'm too influenced by is xNFP type and his general poutiness lol but i also love him so muuuuuchhhh. obviously i leaned angsty bc of the tension in the teaser! i hope you enjoyed :D

Tag List: @theharrowing @here4kpopfics @the-boy-meets-evil @aris-ink @notbotheredtho @bangchansbae

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