"Hate me, hurt me, betray me. The more pain you make me feel, the more tempting you become."
Taehyung Dark Royal a.u.
MATURE & explicit sexual content 18+
Cover by me: @CallMeByYourName97
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"I'm so sick, Infected with where I live Let me live without this Empty bliss, Selfishness" I'm so Sick - Flyleaf
Spice -o-meter : 🌶️🌶️ again listen to the song when you feel like you should. Cuz 🤤🤤
🧛🏻
Since y'all BEGGED...
Taehyung +++++
Taehyung was floating in heaven, the eventual fall to hell surely to be an arduous one.
That's what it felt like, to wake up pressed against the woman he tried so hard to keep his distance from. In the night she'd turned from him, her tanned neck still bathed in distance moonlight. Forged in silver, as her dark, long hair fanned out across him. He eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, taking in a single breath and gathering the scent of oud and amber, and a third scent that was more floral. Rose-like. With a dash of something like brown sugar, or cinnamon.
Her blood.
She had cozied up even closer to him in sleep. Her back flattened against him, hips and round flesh felt by every part of him through her thin nightgown. The material bunching, as she squirmed into him. Muttering nonsensical words in Farsi.
The man gritted his teeth, trying to pull himself back as he felt himself harden with her movements. Carefully, he moved his hips and legs back so they he would no longer be touching her below the waist. He had made fun of her last night, poking at her self-control around him.
Offering immaturely to sleep on the floor, anywhere else but the bed. Knowing that being so close would wreak havoc on him. Touching her had nearly made him lose sight of everything.
He was truly distraught about himself.
For years, he had prepared. Forged the metal cage around his heart. Made Jimin learn everything about her, so he could learn himself. Cultivating the bushels of thorns that would keep her at bay. Accustomed to her aura, and her intelligence. Her tenacity, and her gently combative nature.
Nothing could've prepared me for this.
For the gnawing pit of lust and want and absolute need overpowering his thirst. It was torment. A crime, for her to be so soft and pliant against him, against someone who had stolen her away and locked the key. Who rarely showed her kindness, or any emotion other than quick possession. Hot and cold because he didn't know when it would be too much, and the floodgates would open.
