jincherie - Tumblr blog

jincherie · 2 years

Text

mystery gang; unsolved || FINAL [M]

☾ — pairing: taehyung x reader ☾ — genre: demon au, supernatural/paranormal au, buzzfeed unsolved au/inspired, smut, f2l ☾ — words: 11.7k ☾ — rating: m for mature audiences (they have sex) ☾ — warnings: feels, smut; cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, sex, dirty talk (mild) ☾ — notes: no further questions without my lawyer present.... lmk what you think. we can blame @hobiwonder for this.

ever since you met taehyung in one of your first year classes at university, you seemed to click and you hadn’t parted from each other’s side since. you’ve been his friend for a few years now, and your mutual interest in the supernatural and taehyung’s propensity for finding the spotlight wherever he goes led to the two of you starting up your very own supernatural investigation vlog series. friends isnt the only thing you want to be, and one night close to hallow’s eve when the two of you get a little in over your heads in a way you never have been before, you find out that maybe it’s not only you that feels that way.

— posted; 21.02.2022 || ⇤prev. | masterlist | ao3

Odd occurrences and happenstance had always been a part of your friendship with Taehyung.

Similar to how you felt as though you’d known him all your life, despite only having met him a few months prior, these little hiccups were something you didn’t even bat a lash at. They felt… well, you knew logically that they weren’t normal but at the same time they didn’t exactly keep you up at night. You sort of just acknowledged them, and then let them go.

Of course, there are a handful of the smaller things that stood out to you over time. Like when you would be walking through campus with him, and members of clubs and religious groups would stand in walkways, handing out flyers. Generally, he steered clear of them, claiming that he just didn’t have the energy to deal with them, but one day he let his guard down and a girl with pigtails sidled up behind him, pamphlet in hand.

She hardly got a word out, because by the time Taehyung realised she was there and her hand had outstretched to tap him on the shoulder, he was flinging around and jerking himself backwards. Never before had you seen Taehyung physically recoil at anything like he did then.

They steered clear of him too, from that point on.

You used to work night shifts at a shitty bar, and when you met Taehyung, you still had that job. It sucked ass, but it paid well enough for you to deal with the less-than-enjoyable clientele. You had never been laid hands on, partly due to your own vigilance and the owner’s permission to beat anyone who attempted it, so you felt reasonably safe while you were on shift. In addition to that, you were on quite good terms with the security that manned the doors. All in all, while it wasn’t the most glamorous job, it was more than you could have asked for in some ways.

Taehyung had taken to picking you up after your shift if it was one that finished later than nine o’clock. It was a small thing, something you appreciated more than you pride allowed you to convey. It was something he just started to do one day, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and had been doing it since. You might have been worried about inconveniencing him, but you only had one or two shifts per week that finished after nine, and so you allowed him to continue and feed your guilty pleasure.

It was one such night that things erred outside of the routine you had set. Your bar had regulars as well as its fair share of new and one-time customers, and there was a man that had been coming in consistently for the past week or two. He never really approached the bar, tended to flag down someone walking past to order his drinks, and generally kept to himself at a table in the corner.

The one thing you always noticed, was that more often than not when you glanced his way, he would already be looking at you. Now, you like to think that you have quite the reasonable gut instinct, and rely on your intuition for a lot of things, but you never got a vibe from him that put him on your radar. You suppose that was your mistake.

By the time your shift had finished, you hadn’t seen him for a while and assumed he had already left for the night. The staff had a different entrance than the rest of the guests, and that is where you would exit and where Taehyung normally waited for you.

That night, you’d actually finished a little earlier than anticipated – it was quieter, and your boss knew you were studying and so let you go since he didn’t need that many people at the bar. You were grateful, but since you weren’t allowed phones out on shift you hadn’t gotten a chance to inform Taehyung yet about your extra half hour of free time.

When you stepped outside of the establishment, the man had been waiting for you.

It was an odd encounter, firstly because you hadn’t thought that he had drunk that much while inside. But when he gripped your arms and slammed you against the wall, his scruffy face looming closer, all you could smell was the heavy, harsh stench of alcohol.

Secondly, because you’d never picked up on the unbalanced nature of his gaze as you did then. Thirdly, because your gut had dropped beyond your feet and left a hollow groove in your abdomen that was rapidly pooling with dread.

“You’re out sooner than I expected,” he had said, the tips of his fingers digging harshly into the soft flesh of your biceps. His breath assaulted your nose in waves, stinging your nostrils in time with each word. “Thought I’d have to wait a bit longer for you, sweet cheeks.”

You think that in that moment, you were mostly stunned. Stunned and scared, but yet to regain control of your larynx. Your body screamed to move but at the same time, fear had it locked in place.

When his hand began to move in a direction you would rather it didn’t, you managed to rip a word from your throat.

“Don’t!”

It was like regaining access to your vocal cords had freed your limbs from the stiffness overtaking them.

You brought your leg up, knee meeting the man’s gut in a way that held sickening promise.

The action freed you from his grasp, and you were quick to rip away from the wall, stumbling backwards as fast as your feet could carry you. In the process, you practically threw yourself back into something that, if you didn’t know any better, you would have otherwise assumed to be a brick wall.

It had, in fact, been Taehyung.

The rage you saw on his angelic face in that moment had felt unnatural – it wasn’t a look directed at you, oh no. He was glaring at the man with such heat that you were genuinely surprised that two holes weren’t drilled into his body as a result.

The drunk was cradling his abdomen, and had yet to notice your friend behind you, despite the rage rolling off of him in such thick waves it was almost palpable on your tongue. He spat in your direction, lips curling back in a sneer.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch.”

Something rippled through Taehyung’s body behind you, gone before you can fully decipher it.

“I don’t think she will,” he said, with a deadly calm that belied the fury scorching through his irises.

The man finally seemed to notice Taehyung, and while you couldn’t see his face, there must have been something there that terrified this drunk man. He stumbled back, expression crumpling in fear before being swept over with a look of thin anger.

Whatever was said after that was overtaken by the exhaustion that suddenly rushed through you like a tidal wave of heaviness and fatigue, your body sagging against Taehyung’s front. So tired you suddenly were, that you hardly even noticed it as a strong arm looped around your waist, both holding you up and cradling you against Taehyung.

You don’t actually remember what happened after that.

Your memory picks up only later that night, when you were sitting and laughing at something the two of you were watching. Every time you mind had strayed to what had happened earlier, it was as though it met a wall, fuzzy and without shape that would redirect your thoughts to something else.

For some reason, you simply let it go.

You’d almost completely forgotten about the incident when, a week later, you were preparing the bar for the night to come and caught sight of a familiar face on the television screen, framed by white and accompanied by a single word in bold, capitalised font.

‘MISSING’.

What an odd coincidence, you had thought. Perhaps after that night he had gone off and gotten himself into trouble.

…

Except now, you’re thinking it might not have been much of a coincidence at all.

Taehyung gives you a day before he begins to reach out.

You had locked yourself in your room upon returning to the hotel, dressing the gash over your collarbone in a daze and then proceeding to curl up under the covers, retreating from the world and the unfortunate reality you had just been confronted with.

You aren’t exactly sure how to process the events that happened in that church.

It would be one thing if you were just dealing with the effects of the supernatural forces themselves, but you have another matter contending for the title of ‘most shell-shocking revelation’.

Taehyung. Who is he – or rather, what is he?

Every time he flickers into your mind, a sharp pang rockets through your chest. Your heart feels heavy, aches as though it has been clenched in a vice, to the point it almost makes you physically sick. You suppose the shock you’re currently experiencing can do that to someone.

For the first night, you spent it huddled away, coming to terms with what happened. You were scared, trembling, and for a brief moment worried that whatever was in the church might have followed you back here. For some reason, you were comforted by the fact that Taehyung was there, feeling as though he would have stopped anything that attempted to tail you. But then, that thought just opened up a whole other can of worms and you remembered how he had looked in that darkened room, moonlight filtering over foreign features and an unfamiliar expression.

You slept with the lights on – that is, when you finally managed to doze off.

The next day, your mind feels a bit clearer, but your body is still heavy with fatigue. Still catching up after the stress of it all, you suppose. You shower and re-dress the wound on your chest before curling back up on top of the bed. There is a lot to think about, and no possible way of avoiding all the things that want to rush to mind.

Ghosts and demons are real. This is something that doesn’t surprise you all that much, considering you were the token believer of your duo. Part of what you’re doing now is really just coming to terms with the fear that you felt in that building. You don’t ever want to feel it again, but at the same time, you know that if you had been alone, it would have been inconceivably worse.

It takes you a day to process the fear.

The rest of the emotions ailing you are not so simple or set apart. You can identify confusion, for sure, as well as shock, mild apprehension. Betrayal, unfamiliar and difficult to make out amongst the rest but still present nonetheless.

You’re not sure why the revelation that he had been hiding something so huge from you aches the way it does. You’ve only known him for a small portion of your life, realistically. You’ve known people from your high school days longer than you’ve known him. But it hurts more than you ever could have expected.

To have feared him, hurts. To remember the look on his face as you pushed him away and fled, scared out of your mind, hurts. To be confused and unsure about a relationship that has always felt so natural, hurts.

Taehyung isn’t human. This revelation too, hurts. From what you saw, Taehyung is of the same ilk as all the beings that have harassed and terrorised you up until now. Another painful revelation.

You can overcome the instinctive fear his sudden appearance and presentation had elicited – you know, realistically, that Taehyung would never hurt you. But you also thought you ‘knew’ who he was, so what’s to say that he wasn’t tricking you about that, too?

Not believing the best of him, hurts.

When you first hear his soft tones cross the barrier of the hotel door, you freeze because you aren’t at all ready to see or even hear him, really.

“y/n…?” His tone is soft, seeking. A complete juxtaposition to the last time you’d seen him, rage rolling from his tightly-wound form and heating the air around him. You feel something patter in your chest. “Are you… are you alright in there?”

Something feels like it snaps in your chest, and all of a sudden your eyes sting and blur. You nestle further into the bed, pulling the blanket up as though to muffle his words, to hide away from them and the sensations they bring.

Faint shuffling reaches you from the other side of the door, and your head aches from the strain of keeping your tears at bay. Beneath the duvet feels stuffy and hot, but outside of it leaves you shivering. Still the shock, you suppose. You can’t bring yourself to answer the calls of your best friend.

Is he still your best friend? You want him to be, but how exactly do you work around this?!

He seeks your acknowledgement through the door a few more times over the day before you catch him shuffling away. He is only retreating to the next room over, but still you can’t help your tearful journey into sleep that night.

The next day brings with it slightly more persistence.

“y/n, please open the door… I just want to see that you’re okay.” There is an edge in his tone that you’ve never heard there before, something unfamiliar and almost… desperate. It’s like he fears you will never let him in again.

It makes you feel terrible. You want to see him, you miss him already, but you’re not ready yet to face him after the events that transpired. It makes you frustrated about as much as it makes you sad. Why can’t you just get over it? Taehyung is some big-shot demon, no big deal.

Except it kind of is a big deal.

“y/n, baby girl, please… at least say something so I know you’re alright.”

You’re angry, you realise. Why didn’t he tell you? He could have! He knows you believe in shit like that. This just makes you angrier, though, because it makes you realise with an incredible amount of embarrassment that he knew this whole time ghosts and whatnot are real, and spent your time together essentially making a fool out of you.

The door creaks as though a hand is placed against it, and there is a soft thud. Taehyung’s voice is so soft, so… fragile, that you almost break and leave your cocoon. “Please, open the door…”

You don’t, and after a short while he retreats once more. There are a myriad of muffled noises that come from the other side of the wall.

Alternatively, you feel guilty. How can you be angry at him for not telling you, when if he did you probably wouldn’t have even believed him at first? Well, you suppose that’s the catch as to why you’re upset – ‘at first’. You’re sure that Taehyung has a number of tricks up his sleeve that would open your eyes to the truth of him. Hell, he could probably reduce the door separating you to a pile of rubble if he so wishes. He is being considerate of you, you realise.

It makes you feel worse, and infinitely more confused.

Is it all that confusing, though? You’ve sorted through your feelings one by one, and felt them through to their completion. Perhaps your fuzzy head and throbbing sinuses, as a result of crying, are to blame.

When Taehyung next comes seeking an answer from you, you realise that now you’re just being stubborn. You can’t make yourself move to the door and remove the single barrier between you.

“If… if you need anything, please let me know. I’ve brought some food, please eat something… and if you want to talk, then…”

Are you scared? Scared of being rejected? That’s ridiculous, you reason, and deep down you know it is. But it’s such a huge shift in the dynamic of your relationship that you’re terrified of what follows now. It doesn’t help that you’re so tired, so fatigued. It’s almost odd how your body is reacting to the stress and shock, but you suppose it’s never had to deal with anything like this before. Never on this magnitude.

The last you heard of Taehyung before slipping into a dazed nap that afternoon, is the soft scrape of fingers against wood and breathy, trembling pleas.

“y/n, open the—open the door please. Please open the door. You don’t have to let me in, I just want—I need to… to see you.”

The last thought you have before slipping into a heavy, hazy sleep is that he doesn’t sound anything like himself.

Your heart aches.

When you awake, you really don’t feel good. The window showcases the absence of light outside, and a glance to your phone reveals it’s just past midnight.

You really, really don’t feel right.

You’re due for a shower, you realise with a horrified sniff, and hope that will solve your icky head. When you stand though, you almost topple straight over. It’s quite humiliating, all things considered. You lay down for a few days and suddenly lose all the strength in your legs? Pathetic.

Emotionally, you feel a lot better. Physically? You’re not sure you want to answer that.

You move into the attached bathroom, taking a bathrobe with you and shutting the door in your wake.

Taehyung almost has to drag himself to your room this time, the accursed object at its threshold proving more of an effort to reach each time he makes the short trek. A wall has never felt so thick, a door so tall. His limbs tingle, full to the brim with pins and needles.

He hasn’t gone this long without seeing you, without being by your side since he met you. His body and soul had grown used to the proximity, so much so that now he feels as though strength leaves him with each breath.

This isn’t normal. He shouldn’t have played around so long without bonding you. If he doesn’t see you again soon, he might actually—

He doesn’t even want to think about it.

His fingers seek the grooves they have worn into the wood of the hotel room door, forehead thudding against it a moment later. A deep breath rattles through him.

He is beginning to feel incredibly unsettled.

When you first locked yourself away, he had experienced it as a buzzing itch, just under his skin but impossible to quell and always increasing in intensity. When he was outside your door, it would fade a little bit, and when he would give you space and retreat back to his room, it would overcome him in a horrible spell that made him want to curl up and set his skin on fire.

Never in his life had he ever felt anything like it. Then again, it’s only in the past few years that he had found you – and that’s almost just the span of a blink for how long he has roamed.

“y/n,” he breathes, voice almost breaking. Increasingly he is sounding less and less like himself, but he can’t find it in himself to care if it gets you to open the door and take him back. He feels a bit like he has been in a train wreck. “Please open the door, please… Can we—can we not be like this anymore? I want to see you again, please, please open the door, y/n…”

The idea that you might hate him, might want nothing to do with him and never want to see him again, sends the beast lying dormant within him into a frenzy. He needs to see you again, he needs it so badly. He took it for granted, this short time you’ve been in his life. He’s fucked it up, and now he’s scared, he’s so fucking scared.

Taehyung isn’t used to being scared.

He has never been a fan of uncertainty.

It is something that he left behind with his mortality, something he hadn’t felt since – until he met you. You kind of threw everything out of wack. He would have hated anyone else for it, but couldn’t bring himself to fill even the tip of his pinky with dislike for you. He was hardwired to protect you, long for you, adore you. Your existence and the presence of your soul is the only thing that tethers him in the whole expanse of the universe.

So, understandably, your unresponsiveness has him in quite a state.

He doesn’t really expect an answer, not really. At this point, he is just coming over to check in and listen for your heartbeat through the door. Knowing you’re alive will have to be enough for now. He just hopes he doesn’t waste away before you consider seeing him again.

He wishes he was joking, but right now it feels like a very real possibility.

His next shaky breath stops cold in his lungs, though – he can’t hear it. Your heartbeat, soft as it might be, should still be audible to him through the door. He can’t hear it.

Despite his better judgement (which is hanging on for dear life by a thread inside of him currently, mind you), he begins to panic. He is sure that he scorched that entire church and cleansed anything paranormal in a ten kilometre radius from the face of the earth, but still he can’t help but worry. What if something escaped and followed you back? Are you alive, or wounded and bleeding out? Or have you been snatched from under his very nose while he was in a weakened state.

He has broken the door down before he even realises it, and when he does he simply decides to deal with it later. The board is in chunks and pieces that litter the floor – he probably could have been a bit more gentle. He’ll deal with it later.

Taehyung is a hop, skip and step away from full-blown frenzy when he enters the room and something catches in his ear.

The sound of water streaming, irregular drops against the floor as the flow is disrupted. You’re just in the shower, finishing up if the squeak of taps turning is anything to go by. The sounds in the other room (behind another of those accursed doors), fade into silence that is broken only by the occasional drip. He strains to hear anything from you, a breath, a gasp, a sigh, your heartbeat.

When you let out a huff, he just about collapses against the door, sliding down until his behind reaches the floor. He feels as though he could cry, and he is seriously considering just for the catharsis of it all.

“y/n,” His voice comes out as a whimper, the back of his head thudding against the bathroom door. “Please tell me you’re in there…”

Your breath halts for a moment beyond the door, before rushing out in one go.

“Tae?”

It’s the first he has heard of your voice, of you, in almost three days. He feels something squeeze in his chest, close to bursting. Heat slips down his cheeks in uneven trails. He ignores it. There is a dam that bursts in his chest and releases a torrent up his throat.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, y/n.” His fingers dig into the roughness of the cheap hotel carpet, his head banging back against the door as he turns his face heavenward and screws his eyes shut. His chest shudders and aches so unbearably that he struggles to take in breaths between his words. They come out in a jumbled, frantic slurry. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please talk to me, let me explain. It was never meant to happen like this, n-never meant to… you were never meant to hurt like this. I—”

You don’t say anything, probably taking it all in. Soft sounds reach his ears from the other side of the wood, but nothing that alarms him.

“I should have protected you, I’m meant to protect you, but I didn’t even do that and—and now it’s all fucked up. Please, y/n, please let me explain. Please don’t make me leave when you come out.”

He sounds almost hysterical, really. The only thing that halts the words in the place is the sound of something peeling, adhesive being pulled from skin, and then a soft gasp that filters to his ears.

“y-y/n?”

The scent reaches him mere moments later, right as he hears her breathing begin to pick up. He feels sick to the stomach, bile rising in his throat – he knows that scent, the stench of rot and death. He scrambles to his feet, panicking, and slams his fist against the door.

“y/n, open the door!”

His gut screams at him to tear it from its hinges, and for once he listens. Just in time to hear the cacophony of items tumbling to the floor and the stutter of your heartbeat. He wrenches the door out of the way and lurches into the bathroom, arms outstretched before he can even think to do it.

One hand slips beneath the back of your head, preventing it from a nasty contact with the floor, and the other beneath your knees. He falls to his own as he yanks you from the air, heart bounding in a terrified gallop in his chest.

The source of that stench is clear to see, the gash he had almost forgotten you had on your chest. He should have known better than to leave you untreated, but he was so focused on giving you space…

He needs to treat the effects of the demon’s poison ichor before the symptoms take you any further.

When you come to, it somehow feels like only moments and a whole eternity have passed at the same time.

Your head feels considerably less cluttered, less fuzzy and filled with smoke and haze, which is a definite win. Your body is less heavy with fatigue, too. The only thing that concerns you is your inability to tell how much time has passed since you were last awake.

Which was when….

Ah. It comes back to you in a sudden rush, and your hand flies to your chest. The scratchy material of a bandage greats your fingertips, but you don’t feel the same feverish ache beneath it as you did the other days. Considering it was a demon that sliced you up, you probably should have been a little more diligent. Not like you were preoccupied with other things, though.

Your fingers inch the slightest bit to the side and brush against something smooth and warm, which gives you start and finally prompts you into taking in the rest of your surroundings. You realise quickly why you feel so safe and warm.

You’re cradled in Taehyung’s arms.

He has his hand pressed over the brunt of the wound, and now that you’re paying attention and a little more awake, you become aware of the odd sensation stemming from that spot. Warmth and coolness, tangling and swirling but never cancelling the other out. You’re not sure exactly what Taehyung is doing, but it’s almost ticklish.

Out of habit, your wanton eyes drift up to the familiar planes of Taehyung’s face. His eyes are closed, long lashes brushing delicately against his cheekbones in a way that contrasts the slight furrow of his brows. His full lips are twisted slightly downwards at the corners. You have to blink as you observe him to double check you’re seeing right.

Handsome as always he might be, but the way he is right now… he looks like an absolute mess. Beneath his eyes is darker than normal, cheeks a little more gaunt. His hair, normally silken and perfectly styled, is wild and unkempt and hangs over his face. There is tension in his shoulders that you’re not used to seeing, let alone feeling. You can count on one hand the amount of times Taehyung has held you to him like this.

His hand moves from your chest, dragging over your skin lightly until his palm cups your cheek, and his eyes flutter open. There is a flicker of surprise that ghosts through them, but it disappears quickly and is replaced by a look that is so tender, so full of concern and worry that is makes your chest ache tremendously. He has never looked at you like that, no one has ever looked at you like that. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone so gently it’s as though he is worried that any more pressure would have you shattering beneath his touch.

Your tongue feels like it has turned to stone in your mouth, you can only lay there and look at him. It works out for the time being because you have no idea what to say, anyway.

For whatever reason, it seems that Taehyung has taken your time apart even more badly than you did.

It makes you feel stupid and selfish for being so stubborn, but you also know that you needed time to come to terms with what you experienced, and what you now know.

You swear that his eyes begin to glisten as he gazes at you, thumb tracing that same path over your skin. When you let loose a heavier breath than normal, he clutches you closer, like he’s scared you’ll wrench away.

You feel something give way in your chest, and the words come bubbling out before you can stop them.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Taehyung blinks, taken aback. A lock of ashen hair tumbles from behind his ear and joins others in framing his face. It is a spectacularly disarming expression that he wears.

“Of course.” The low baritone is familiar to you, but the ghost of fear hiding in the shape of each sound is not. “Of course, I was. I just… I didn’t… I thought I had more time. I didn’t know how to do it.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and when you don’t speak up, he continues. “I was scared that it would drive you away. Learning what I am.”

With his skin still against yours, the odd sensation remains swirling around the wound on your chest. You take a guess and assume that he is healing the gash somehow. You’re not sure you want to know the details right now.

Despite yourself, and the situation, you manage to huff. “Kind of insulting, if you ask me.”

It makes the corner of his mouth tug up, but it’s not enough to bring him fully out of whatever mood he has entered. It was a weak attempt at lightening the general mood between you, anyway. You can do better.

“But… I can’t blame you. I wish you had told me, but I don’t fault you for not knowing how.”

He presses his lips together, the way you do when you’re trying to stop your chin from wobbling. You swear you catch a tear slip down his cheek. Since when was the enigmatic Casanova Taehyung such a crybaby?!

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, clenching his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

The pet name sends a flutter through your chest, same as always. It’s kind of reassuring to know that your reactions to him remain unchanged.

He adjusts, dipping his head down to press soft, trembling lips to the location of your wound before you even realise he has moved. When he lifts his head again and meets your gaze, there is unbearable heat in your cheeks.

“For this, too, I’m so sorry. I should have been more aware, more vigilant. There should never be a time that you get hurt while I’m there beside you. I am… so fucking sorry. You’re meant to be safe with me. “

You hope he can’t tell how your heart has begun to race, but given what he is you don’t exactly have high hopes.

He sniffles, swallowing heavily. You watch the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, because at the end of the day you’re still the same girl you were at the start of this venture, madly in love with your attractive best friend.

‘Demon’ is a new addition to that description you’ve yet to include, but even so you’re surprisingly unbothered. Perhaps something in your brain is broken.

Slowly, the odd sensation that his touch is eliciting fades, and he looks almost regretful as he pulls his hand away from your cheek. Immediately, you miss the contact.

“I healed it,” he murmurs, averting his gaze. “I got rid of the blight that accompanied the wound, too. You should feel a lot better. I would advise resting for another day at least, though.”

You nod, and for a few moments silence fills the space between you. You’re not sure what to do next. As though attempting to pre-emptively flee any incoming awkwardness, you shift out of Taehyung’s hold and begin to move away.

You don’t expect the sudden grasp of his hand on your wrist.

“Wait!”

When you turn and look at him, he has a look like he didn’t even mean to say anything, the kind of face you make when words just come tumbling out of their own accord. Bashful, another expression you’ve never seen on his face but you are now bearing witness to.

“Can you – could you… could I just—please… will you stay with me tonight? I don’t… I don’t want to go back to how it feels without you yet… Please.”

You feel like everything inside your chest crumples like paper at his words. You don’t even blink before you move back to his side. As soon as you’re within distance, he reaches his arms out like a baby seeking to be cuddled. He takes you into his arms, pulling you close and twisting the two of you down onto the bed in one smooth movement that somehow doesn’t jostle you. You are pressed against his chest so that almost every part of you is touching a part of him, and he only nestles closer. His fingers drum once against your side, and the light in the room flickers out. A shuddering sigh escapes him.

It’s stupid, how easily you feel yourself drifting off. In your defence, it’s been a big couple of days. You decide it’s not something to beat yourself up about, and instead push your burning face into Taehyung’s chest.

You’re going to enjoy the closeness while you can.

The rest of the things you want to say remain unsaid.

When you wake the next morning, you find that all of your limbs are entangled and trapped in some way.

Taehyung is still passed out next to you, looking a lot better than he did last night. It’s almost unbearable, the urge to reach out and brush his cheek. You might have fallen victim to it if your arms weren’t otherwise restricted.

Thoughts weigh heavy upon your mind, and words rest on your tongue, inches away from crossing your lips. There’s a lot you want to ask, want to know. But at the same time, what purpose would it serve for you to find it all out now? Is there anything else pressing that you need to know? The big secret is out, you’ve come to terms with it. Mostly.

Taehyung is a demon, probably a high-ranking one. What more is there to say?

Well, there is something more you’d like to clarify. As it is right now, though, you don’t exactly have the balls to ask it.

When he wakes, he seems panicked before he really sees you, feels you in his hold – only then, he visibly relaxes. You sort of stay in place, gazing at each other for a while. Neither of you wants to break the moment, but it’s an inevitability that one of you will have to initiate.

You spend the day skirting around each other.

He can’t seem to bring himself to venture more than five metres away, and you’re glad for the company. You might have come to terms with what he is, but you’re also still a little paranoid of being alone. The fact that it’s daylight helps a fair bit, but only enough that your lingering fears don’t make it to the forefront of your mind.

The two of you pack up your things and equipment in an odd silence that is somehow neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Today is the last day you will be spending in this hotel – you need to begin on the long road trip home, or you’ll be thrown completely out of schedule.

The car ride is slightly more bearable, if only because he focuses on driving and you have the opportunity to sort through your thoughts. Your gash is healed, and your fingers find themselves drifting absent-mindedly to trace over the raised skin that is left in its wake.

You’d been avoiding thinking about it because it still made you shudder and recoil, but now that you’re on the road and there is some distance between you, the town, and that god-forsaken church, you allow yourself to consider the events that happened in the last room.

Namely, the things that the demon said to Taehyung after he burst in the room.

He had referred to him as lord, which is admittedly intimidating, a little scary, and very hot. You’re not really in control of that last opinion. You can only assume from this that Taehyung has quite a high rank amongst the depraved in the underworld.

You’re unsure whether that is a good thing or a bad thing.

The demon also said another thing of interest, that rings even now in your ears.

“I would not have touched the lord’s human if I had known!”

It hadn’t just said it once – the demon had referred to you as ‘Taehyung’s human’ twice. Which, you consider might just be how they refer to humans that are in the vicinity of a particular demon. It’s possible. But you can’t help the niggling feeling that there is a little more too it. Whether it is the way it was said, the fear in the demon’s eyes once it realised a connection between you and Taehyung, or the way Taehyung’s own features had shifted in response.

You’re dying to know what exactly it means.

But even in the silence of the car ride, amongst the odd question you throw his way, you can’t bring yourself to voice it.

As though he can tell there is a bigger question that you’re sitting on, Taehyung seems a little nervous.

You drive the remainder of the day, stopping only around nine o’clock to find a place to rest for the night. Taehyung looks like he would rather shoot himself in the foot than ask you to suffer a sleep in the car while he continues to drive.

You appreciate it, even if he is a bit dramatic.

He books two adjacent rooms without being asked, almost painfully aware of the boundaries still in place between the two of you. You wish, not for the first time, that you were someone brave enough to cross that boundary on your own, to initiate that venture into uncharted territory.

You’re not brave enough, and when you both go your separate ways that night and Taehyung whispers a soft, ‘goodnight’, you simply echo it back.

The room is dark as you ditch your clothes and climb into the bed. As you sink into the mattress and pull the duvet over your shoulder, you can’t help but feel that you’ve lost the opportunity to ask about it and ruined a possibility, ruined something.

You try not to think about it as you fall asleep.

You can’t have been under for more than a few hours when something disrupts you in the middle of your REM cycle.

Your body tilts slightly, responding to a dip in the mattress that makes your eye pop open. There, caught in the act of climbing onto the bed and illuminated by moonlight at his back, is a wide-eyed Taehyung.

He freezes, bashful and embarrassed. He offers up an explanation before you even have a chance to ask.

“I couldn’t sleep, being so far away from you…” He recoils, retreats a bit, taking some of his weight off the bed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Tae.”

His name comes out of nowhere, and it takes you a second to realise that it was you who said it. He startles as it enters the air, wide eyes locking onto your own.

He is vulnerable, in this moment. You can feel it, intrinsically. You can’t help yourself – you feel like it has to be now, so you ask him ‘why’.

“Why can’t you sleep when you’re away from me?” Your voice is soft and the haze of sleep is barely cleared from your head, but maybe that’s why you actually have the guts to ask. “It has to do with what the demon said in the church, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung can only hold his breath, eyes wide at the clearly unexpected line of questioning. He looks like he might retreat further for a moment, but instead allows himself to rest on the edge of the bed. He brings a hand up to card through his hair, leaving it tussled and wild. Something great and big and uncontrollable fills your chest.

“What am I to you, Taehyung?”

“Everything,” he answers quietly, eyes sliding to hold your own captive in their tawny depths. “You’re everything, to me. There will never be anyone else in existence, who can be what you are to me.”

You’re so fucking confused, but his words ignite something deep within you – you feel tears spring to your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“For creatures like me,” Taehyung lets loose a shaky breath. When he continues, his voice is still a sultry whisper that belies the current topic of conversation. “We only get one chance. After we’re born, reborn, there is only one thing that exists as an absolute weakness for us. We only get one chance to have something truly good.”

“Would you ever hurt me?” You know the answer even as you ask it.

“No,” he breathes immediately, moving closer and holding a hand out as though to cup your cheek. He doesn’t go the whole way, his hand hovering just shy of your skin like he is wondering if he is allowed to touch it. “No. I cannot even conceive the idea of it.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, instinctively attempting to stop the trembling of your chin before you can even think to do so. His eyes burn into your own, setting your insides aflame and taking over the entirety of your being with the slow intensity of pouring lava. Your arms thrum with the urge to reach for him, to bring him close, to touch him.

You don’t understand, but even as you think that you realise it’s a lie. There is something inside of you that has always reacted to him, always longed and yearned to be near him, with him. You do understand, just as much as you don’t.

There are a number of things you want to know, a number of ways you could word your next question. You decide on one and go with it.

“The demon referred to me as ‘your’ human. Is it a spell, some sort of magick? Is that why ever since I have met you, the only person I have ever been able to think about, was you? Even as you frolicked about, sharing a bed with someone different every other night, loving and leaving everyone but me?”

You suck in a trembling breath, closing your eyes as you voice your real question.

“What do you want with me, Taehyung?”

In the wake of your words, it is still, and it is completely silent. You don’t even hear Taehyung breathe. You don’t dare open your eyes, terrified of what you will see playing across your best friend’s face if you do. This ghost hunt has been the kind of experience that really makes you say ‘now or never’, and that is pretty much exactly what you did.

The bed creaks ever so slightly, the first sound to break the silence. You keep your eyes tightly shut, trying desperately not to cry as every possible unsavoury outcome filters through your head.

A featherlight touch graces your cheeks, and it’s a miracle you don’t flinch. It’s a familiar touch though, and your body is familiar with the electricity that transfers into you as a result. Your nerves tingle awake in response.

“I want… I want to be near you, be with you always.” He sounds almost sad as he speaks, reverent, but doesn’t stop the flow once it has started to gush forth. “I want to be everything to you, like you are to me. I want to hold you, to touch you, to admire you.”

“I want to be with you wholly, completely. I don’t want to seek distractions anymore, because I’m scared that if I spend that minute more with you I’ll snap and ruin everything we have.”

Your eyes have opened before you realised it, and at the sight of the mist gathering over his eyes your heart gives a great, painful TWANG.

“I want to be good to you, so good you will think that is all I was ever made to be. I-I want… I just want…” He swallows, eyes never leaving your own. They are pools of emotion you never thought you would witness in him. “I want to show you that I am a being capable of love, and that I love you with all my soul, however unholy it may be.”

He’s scared, you realise. Scared of you hearing all this and, having seen what you have seen, rejecting him. You saw what a mess he was after not being near you for a few days, like it had physically taken a toll on him. Could he even handle a full-blown rejection?

It’s fortunate he wouldn’t have to find out.

“Tae,” you breathe, lifting your own hand to brush your fingertips against his jaw. “Can I see you, Tae? The real you?”

His breath stutters, eyes widening. They search your own for a second, fearful of the worst, but must soon find what they’re looking for because they flutter closed and he rakes in a deep breath.

The transformation ripples over him like silk shifting in the wind.

Fluidly, you witness his features change. Inky horns stem from his head, the hue of his hair shifting and markings inking themselves onto the skin beneath his eyes. There are similar ones that rise to the surface of his arms, neck and chest too, you observe. With a single snap, two leathery wings unfurl from his shoulders. His eyes shift in colour to the dual tones of sunset, catching your own before he wrenches them shut and turns his face away slightly. The sight of him, the true him, feels very much like gazing upon a faerie that has just removed their glamour.

He is beautiful, though.

He always has been, but now its truer, raw and uncut. His nose and jaw are sharper, the corner of his eyes more defined, his ears elongated. His teeth are more like fangs.

Last time you saw him like this, you had been terrified. However, seeing him again in this form confirms what you suspected all along.

You weren’t ever scared of him.

The other demon and the ghosts in that damn church? Absolutely. But you had never been truly scared of Taehyung. You don’t know if you’re capable.

It’s instinctive. Natural.

Just as it is when you reach and place a hand either side of his face. His eyes shoot open, shock apparent in their slitted depths.

“Will you stay with me, Taehyung?”

His teeth sink into the plump flesh of his bottom lip, eyes searching the depths of your own.

“You love me?”

He is nodding, already to your previous question and now doubly so to this one.

Something giddy stirs in your belly at the intensity beginning to build behind his gaze. You brush your thumbs across his cheeks and his wings flutter, blocking out the moonlight for a brief second.

“Show me?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He swoops down, arms coming to frame either side of your head. There is a brief moment where he pauses, holding your gaze, before the weight of it becomes to heavy for him and he allows himself to descend the rest of the way.

When his lips meet yours, you feel as though you could cry.

There aren’t fireworks, nothing explodes, but instead it is as though something buried long ago comes to life inside of you, unfurling and growing, blooming into something magnificent. Familiar.

You can’t even summon to mind all the other times you imagined kissing Taehyung, because nothing could compare. You are swept up into the movement of his lips against yours, the caress of his tongue that lures out your own. Your heart is doing somersaults in your chest, so full of love and adoration that it’s fit to burst.

When his mouth leaves yours and you can breathe again, it isn’t for long before his lips burn a searing path along your jaw.

“Stay with me, Tae. Please, stay.”

He shudders against you, teeth nicking against your skin and eliciting a soft sound of your own. Marks blossom across the expanse of your neck and shoulder in the wake of his affection, his body shifting to hover more closely above your own. One of his knees slides between your own, causing a round of giddy butterflies to erupt in your abdomen. A spark of pleasure shoots across your skin when you grind against him ever so slightly.

“Please, don’t ever throw me away,” he murmurs into your skin between sinful presses of satin lips, so softly it is hardly heard over the harsh sound of your own breath. “Please take all of me, love all of me.”

You don’t think you were meant to hear it, but you did, and it makes you feel as though you’re soaring through a dizzying abyss . Taehyung lifts his head ever so slightly, longer red-tinted hair brushing against the skin of your neck.

“Is it okay to have you, baby girl?”

You’re nodding before you even realise your head is moving.

After that, Taehyung moves with no more hesitation. His fingers are gentle and seeking but still firm as they find the edge of your pyjamas and rid your body of them. You are left only in your boyleg underwear, but can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed of being bare in front of him.

No, instead you enjoy the way his eyes drink you in, slitted pupils dilating as they rake over each curve and line of your body. He shifts, putting most of his weight on his knees as he leans back and moves his hands. A large palm cups the weight of your breast, long fingers belonging to the other hand drag down your body, caressing the swell of your hips and stomach.

“I adore you,” he says plainly, lashes lowering. “Do you still want me to show you?”

You nod, and he smiles. It has a hint of the Taehyung you know in it, the way the corner of his lips tug up more on one side than the other. The heat of his gaze makes you dizzy as he leans down, thumb brushing over the stiffening peak of your nipple, and his mouth returns to melting a path down your neck.

Your own hands busy themselves in his hair, around his shoulders. His entire body shudders, wings and all, when you accidentally drag your nail over one of his horns. He levels you with a look, eyes burning through you in warning, but says nothing and returns to his task. You get the message anyway. You might want to refrain from touching those for now.

He moves with dedication, mapping out every inch of skin you allow him to have. When his lips cross the threshold of your most recent scar, he halts and presses his mouth there a little longer. The area around it is laved with such tender affection that you can’t help but moan softly. His wings flutter in response to your sounds, answering to their call.

His thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple between them and tug, almost distracting you from the way his other hand trails lower, and lower. Its arrival at your moistened core is timed perfectly with the wanton buck of your hips that Taehyung’s ministrations elicits.

“Tae!” the gasp tears from you unwittingly as he latches his lips around your free peak, pulling it into his mouth with heat and fervour. You cant help the whine that climbs from your throat, hips rolling against his fingers as they find the bundle of nerves they had been seeking. A finger slides over your clothed mound on either side of your clit, the combination of friction and pressure pulling a sound from deep within you.

It is surreal, to be touched by him like this.

… Let alone in these circumstances.

He wants to take it slow, you can tell from the restrained, controlled way that he is moving, but you can visibly see it as every noise you make has him coming a little more undone. His fangs scrape against your nipple, holding it between his teeth in such a way that has little sparks of pain mixing with the buzz of pleasure. Your fingers entwine in his hair.

Your chest isn’t left alone for a single second, but that doesn’t mean that he is distracted from his task a little lower. Oh, no – he is very much attentive there, too.

Something like a growl mixed with a groan vibrates against your chest as his fingers slip lower and discover the moisture that has drenched your underwear. There isn’t room for shame inside of you, only excitement. You roll against his hand, gasping as he responds with a circled rubbed tantalisingly slow around your clit.

He teases you for a while, like that. Nipping, sucking, licking over your chest, giving each breast equal attention; all the while, his fingers slide over your clothed core, dampening it further with your arousal. Pressure begins to build low in your abdomen, your hips building their own rhythm at the mercy of his wrist and fingers.

He is alarmingly in tune with your thoughts and desires, because right as you begin to yearn for the touch of him against your actual skin, you are rid of your underwear. You’re not actually sure where they go, or how, all you know is that now he is pressing just above your clit, sliding the hood over the bundle of nerves in such a way that has you letting out a loud, wanton cry. He hums in response, and repeats the action.

Your knees are beginning to feel a little weak.

Curious fingers are replaced by a thumb as they seek to venture lower, sliding along your slit and gathering the moisture there until they arrive at your entrance, which is already aching in anticipation. You want him, you want him so badly. You don’t even have to speak for him to pick up on it.

Taehyung lets out the softest chuckle – one that you swear sounds a little cocky – and allows two fingers to dip into your entrance.

You can’t help the moan that pours out of you, and after seeing his visceral reaction to it you’re not sure you want to. He teases you for a moment, but at the pleading look delivered in your gaze, he must decide to be merciful. He slides those fingers in completely, easily aided by the slick of your arousal, and allows them to curl, pressing against the front of your walls.

You don’t know how he gets that spot on the very first try, but he does, and you’re left dealing with the repercussions. A loud cry escapes you, legs quaking as a shot of pleasure, hot and liquefied, enters your veins. You feel dizzy, but so, so good.

“Feels good huh, baby girl?” Taehyung’s low baritone is as sinful as ever. Flecks of adoration weave into his words. “That’s what we want.”

You nod dazedly, a little lost for words at the moment, and he returns to his motions with renewed fervour. You have hardly a moment to take in breath before he begins to fuck you with his fingers. Each sink of his digits into your heat has them curling, your legs shaking, hips rolling, and his name tumbling from your tongue. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Your pleasure is building almost embarrassingly fast, but Taehyung is pretty much making it his mission to slingshot you to completion, it seems. You allow yourself to get carried away, letting loose a string of moans and curses as he adds another finger, then another. His hand on your breast is replaced by his mouth and all you can do is throw your head back and whine for the sensations it provides.

“Come on, baby girl,” he breathes against your skin, nipping in between words and suckling at the end of each sentence. “Don’t you wanna cum? I want to feel you finish around my fingers, wanna see your pretty face while you cum with my name on your lips. Will you cum for me, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you answer, breath stuttering in your lungs as he fucks you that bit faster, that bit harder with his fingers. Your thighs are clenching around his arm but it does nothing to halt his pace. “Yes, yes, yes – please, Tae.”

You don’t need to plead much – he gives it to you the second you ask for it. His teeth sink into the swell of your breast, fingers stuffing you to the brim and stimulating that spot at just the right time as his thumb rolls your clit. Your cry is loud and unchecked, something you might be embarrassed about later when you leave the hotel, but for now it’s the only thing to tether you to the moment as your pleasure reaches its peak and you cum, twitching and tensing against Taehyung’s firm form.

He groans, drinking in each soft moan and whine, each writhe and shift of your body as you ride your high on his fingers, the digits still leisurely fucking into you.

Still dazed and swimming through the haze of sensations, you don’t realise Taehyung has removed his fingers and moved his face downwards until the first stroke of his tongue against your heat.

You jerk, whining loudly, and the only reason you don’t wriggle away to catch a breather is because his arms loop around your shaking thighs, holding you in place with vice-like strength.

He is gentle with you, to begin with, easing you down from your high as he laps up your arousal. You go to cover your face for embarrassment before he delivers a soft, swift smack to your hip in warning. You allow your hands to fall back down, shifting onto your elbows and biting your lip.

He delivers broad strokes over your folds, gathering your essence on his tongue and letting out a groan as he laps it up. It isn’t long, an alarmingly short time really, before you begin to build once more. One of your hands shoots and tangles in his hair, needing to ground yourself as he dips his tongue between your folds, seeking, searching. You can’t contain your cries anymore when he rolls the muscle over your clit, suckling the bundle of nerves into his mouth. You can hardly hear the sound of him licking and sucking over yourself.

He seems to like the sounds his action elicits, despite its volume, because he repeats it again, and again, and again, until you’re dizzy with the fire and pleasure swimming through your limbs and weighing in your head. He eats you out happily, sunset eyes watching your each and every move, drinking in your expressions, the lust in your eyes.

Its when his teeth graze your clit that you have to pump the breaks – because it feels too good, if anything. When you finish again, you want it to be in a different way. You want it to be with him.

“Wanna cum with you,” you manage to articulate, feeling his breath catch. “Please fuck me, Tae. I need it. Need you.”

For a moment, the air grows taut between you, your breath held in suspense. Then, the tension snaps and Taehyung is shifting in a flash, groaning loudly. His hips push your legs apart as he climbs up your body, the straining bulge of his cock grinding against you through the thin material of his sweats.

“You need me?” he echoes, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. Your entire body is flushed, aching. You want him inside of you, and you know he can tell from the way you’re looking at him, but he wants to hear it out loud. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, immediately.

“Do you love me?” he asks, tone low and heady, throwing your earlier question back at you.

You don’t even have to think before you answer him.

“Yes.”

A smile erupts on his face then, beautiful and brilliant and humbling in its intensity. He might have been borne of the depravity of the underworld, but right now he glows with the radiance of the heavens. Surreal, you surmise. Truly surreal and absolutely magnetic. He draws you into him once more.

When his lips take yours this time, there is less room for patience, and leisure. His mouth is hot, scorching against your own as he pulls your lip between his teeth. When you mirror the action, you are rewarded with a low, low groan that seems to come from the very pits of his being.

He shifts for a moment, ridding himself of his pants, and allows his hand to drift down to your core. He swears with a moan, tilting his head back as though he is searching the heavens for answers.

“Fuck, you’re still so wet. You’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby girl?”

You’re nodding, clutching him, whatever it takes to get him inside of you and quell the ache. You reach down, slipping your hand over the toned expanse of his stomach, the defined line of his hips, until you reach the throbbing heat of his cock.

He lets out a hiss as your fingers wrap around his girth, using the precum seeping from the tip to ease the slide of your hand. His arms tremble either side of you, head dipping as his eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open to let loose a gasp.

The wings looming behind him shiver and tuck in closer, the ends fluttering like the nerves are going haywire.

“I will,” you breathe in answer to his earlier question. “You’re gonna fill me up so good, Tae. I want you so bad.”

For as practiced as he is, your words almost seem to be his undoing. His mouth shuts, teeth gnashing together audibly, and he has to pull your hand from his member so he can get into position. He slips his arms behind and under each of your legs, hands seeking your own and pressing them to the bed with intertwined fingers.

The tip of his weeping cock teases against your entrance and you whine, shifting your hips in vain efforts to get closer. He holds himself away only for a moment, gazing down at you with an expression so indescribable yet profound that for the first time since you started this, you’re distracted by an ache in your chest.

“I will be good to you,” he says, his words ringing as his bond. “As you have been to me. I love you, y/n.”

Then he is angling his hips, and with his member aligned with your entrance he is splitting you open and sinking in. He dips his head down, mouthing at your neck as you throw your head backwards and reveal the expanse of it to him. You’re not sure what words are escaping from your tongue, but you doubt they make sense. Taehyung hardly seems to mind – in fact, you dare say the pleasurable incoherence you are driven to only works to turn him on.

A few strokes are languid, smooth, slower for you to adjust. As soon as he feels you rolling your hips, bucking in a seeking manner against him, he releases that restraint and begins to fuck you a little more earnestly.

For a moment, you see stars.

Taehyung himself is something to write home about, but what he hides between his legs…? You want to keep that all to yourself. He fills you just the way you crave, tip dragging against your walls and hitting so deep, at such an angle that it has you keening with each stroke.

As he leans forward, your legs are pushed closer to your body, and this only intensifies your pleasure as his cock drives deeper into your pussy. The crescendo you abandoned earlier has returned and is building again with a vengeance. You don’t think the noises have stopped tumbling from your mouth for a while.

Each snap of his hips results in a soft gasp from his own lips between murmured praise, and a bolt of pleasure that burns up your spine. Good, it’s so good, so, so good. Your pussy aches so good, he fills you better than you could have wanted.

Better than you imagined.

You can’t help the roll of your hips as you join his rhythm, the sensations too strong for you resist falling prey to them. He groans as he feels you clench and undulate around him, brows furrowing.

“Careful, baby girl,” he pants, sucking a breath in through his teeth as you roll your hips again. “Don’t you want this to last?”

“I just want you,” you say, before you can stop it. Though his hips don’t stop in their movement, his eyes snap open and whip to you, almost… shocked. You suppose it was a little sweet and out of place, but you’ve already said it now and you’re back to moaning so what else can you do?

“Fuck, “he groans, rolling his head back and stretching the strong column of his neck. “You’re so good, so perfect. Are you close, baby girl?”

You nod, freeing a hand to reach up and twist your fingers into his hair. You use this grip to pull his head down so he can hear you between your gasping moans and whines.

“Yeah,” you say, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Wanna cum with you. Wanna feel you fill me up, Tae.”

His hips stutter in their movement and for a moment, you fear you might have broken him. You learn you feared for nothing in the next second though, when his hips return to motion full force and snap into you almost ferociously. Fingers slip between your legs, finding your clit with ease and playing with it the way he learned you like. You almost scream out as pleasure roils through you with startling intensity, and you find yourself on the precipice.

“Tae! ‘M gonna cum, T-Tae—”

The sound that leaves him almost sounds like a snarl, and it seems you have pushed him just as close to the edge. With one more roll of your clit and snap of his hips into yours, you’re tumbling into your high. Your whole body grows rigid, arching into his, and the resulting tightness of your core has him finishing right after with a strained cry. His head dips, teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder, as he slams his cock into you one more time before you feel it swell and throb. Heat spills into you, and you can’t help the delirious moan that leaves you in response.

You don’t have the words to describe the experience, especially since you haven’t finished, well, experiencing it yet.

Taehyung sags against you, wings fluttering before they come to rest against the bed, curling around your bodies protectively. It warms you, makes something tingle in your chest. The demon is kissing against your skin where his teeth broke your flesh, murmuring apologies. You’re surprisingly unbothered – you didn’t really feel it in the moment, and it doesn’t hurt too much now, so you don’t really care. You do have a question, though.

“Did you just mark me?” you ask, still struggling to catch your breath. Taehyung freezes. “As in, in a way that carries meaning for you?”

The few sheepish seconds of silence before he answers tell you enough. “… Perhaps.”

It’s hard, trying not to smile. He’s cute. “Can I mark you back?”

He grows rigid, and you wonder why for a moment before you feel his cock throb inside you.

You can’t help your incredulous laugh. “Are you serious?”

Taehyung pulls back, pouting defensively. “I’m a demon, y/n. I’m almost more beast than human. You expect me not to react when you say hot shit like that?”

You can’t help the laugh that tumbles forth at his response, and his expression breaks to make way for a smile.

“Perhaps you should teach me about all the differences I should be aware of, hm?”

Taehyung’s wings flutter, a gleam entering his sunset eyes as he leans down to brush his lips against your own.

“I suppose we have time.”

And boy, did he make good use of it.

#taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts smut #v x reader #bts v #demon taehyung x reader #demon taehyung #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts lemon #mystery gang unsolved #my work #jincherie #i don't have think

353 notes · View notes