........A TAEKOOK FANFICTION.....
He was meant to be his from the beginning.. It was decided from their birth... Weather they want it or not...
But you CAN'T maSK HaTe wiTh DeCeption...
Or IS it LoVe thEy were FighTing this whole TiMe?
Will they b...
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My whole body shook with fear and excitement as he mounted me. Nothing but his eyes were visible on his face as he still wore that black mask. His hand travelled through my body but the touches were not adorned with the familiar love, it was driven by an unfamiliar harshness.
He tore my clothes in a blink of eyes and the coldness of the room attacked me. My nipples were shamefully erected due to the lack of warmth. And his touches weren't helping.
"Taehyung... Please don't, let's talk first." I pleaded with a feeble voice. Even if it is unlikely, there was a chance he might stop this madness and talk civilly. But I was proved wrong as the next moment he tore the pants I was wearing and took away my underwear. Then he stuffed my mouth with it.
I gagged furiously but he paid no mind to it. My scream sounded like a muffled moan. He pounced on me like he was starving for years. He settled himself between my legs, fully putting his weight on me. Not that I could move with my hands and legs bound, but he asserted his dominance like this. And my treacherous body liked it, craved it.
Just like him, I've been deprived of him for too long, and survived without him too long. The only thing that was bothering me was his lack of voice. He always talked filthy while fucking me, whispered dirty things in my ear.
Taehyung rocks himself between my legs while his hand finds my nipples. He squeezes them so hard that my eyes tear up. and I almost felt his lips curved under the mask in a sadistic smile. It was clear. He was not here to give me pleasure, he was here to punish me.
While I'm still lost in the sensation, the sinful act of his finger, he finally turns his attention to the hole that has been neglected for months, something rough traces the rims, then I realise it's his thumb. Just as he begins to insert his finger inside, I wince and he freezes. My heart melts at his action. Even after everything, he truly never wants to see me in pain. He sits up, not moving away from my body as he starts to take off his clothes. First the shirt comes off then the pants. And then he's naked underneath. Oh! I realise. He came prepared.
I'm anticipating his next move, when he finally takes off his God awful mask. Then I met his eyes.
His eyes always held a fearsome sharpness. Those intense, piercing gazes that can make anyone feel he's seeing right through them. His eyes describe his calculative character. The striking dark brown of depthness can add allure or danger. The mesmerising contrast between the calm demeanour and intense eyes enhances his mysterious and intriguing aspects. The depthness of them suggests a lot of hidden thoughts and motives, giving only a trace of his striking intelligence and complex character. His gaze never waver, he doesn't blink or look away easily. The steadiness burns through oneself, dominating them as he wishes.
The darkness casted a spell of dark shadows over the empty cottage. The air was thick with coldness. The silhouette of dimming candles played a cruel game on the wall while it witnessed our gothic affairs.
