#i sure do love man's attempt to uhm penetrate the universe
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Can you write a drabble about jealous taehyung with lace? Ty 🥺
So... I had to brainstorm with my dear mate abt this one since we never really saw Taehyung as someone who could be openly jealous or would even consider the feeling, since we see him as a confident person, and even more than that, we think that he and Lace are very open about trust and loyalty. We think that both of them would be happy with introducing a third party in the bedroom — not on a regular basis though. Lace is a sucker for Taehyung — and Taehyung alone; he knows it, and he also knows that he has a beautiful girlfriend who is bound to attract people’s attention and make them believe that they can flirt with her. Still, Lace gives the cold shoulder to anyone but her man.
HOWEVER
We found out a potential loophole.
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Lace)
Wordcount: 1.5k (sorry, I got carried away)
Genre: angst/smut/fluff
Rating: 18+
TRIGGER WARNINGS: uhm, there are dirty thoughts in the middle (mild) and smut at the end (mention of oral male receiving, female receiving, rough penetration, biting). Possessive!Tae. Takes place a few weeks after Love Talk and mentions a few events in Illicit Affairs (which should — hopefully — come out soon).
As you walked down the long corridor of the small gallery, Taehyung tried not to notice — or better, not to care about — the young artist waiting by the door, walking several steps behind you.
Taehyung’s hand twitched before he shoved it in his pocket. He wanted to touch you.
Having that... that vulture staring at you... It made his stomach sour.
Maybe it was because this was your first date after having you all to himself, after knowing how you taste and how you moan, how your breasts flush when you’re about to cum, how good it feels to grip your hips while you ride him, to feel his fingers sink in the flesh of your ass.
He took his hands out of his pockets and joined them behind his back, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to calm down.
You stopped in front of a picture, observing it for a moment. It was a hyper-realistic painting of a watermelon sculpted into a cube, placed there in the middle of the white canvas. It was truly the game of a virtuoso.
“Impressive.” You said, before turning toward the man about a metre or two away. “How long did it take?” You asked nicely, still impressed by the amount of details: the seeds, the small veins, the grainy texture of the watermelon.
“About three months.” He replied. “I had started it as a still life, but I changed my mind and redid it with a more... Surrealistic approach.” He explained.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his annoyance at bait, licking his lip before biting it. “Good job.” He said, trying to be grateful even though he wanted to rip the man’s eyes away from his skull.
The only thing holding him back was that he didn’t know how you would react to that. And if you would ever love his fingers as much after seeing him perform such a crude act.
You smiled at the artist and took a few steps to the next painting, this time a basket of cherries — only barely visible from behind a lace curtain. It was alarmingly realistic, truly breathtaking in the amount of precision poured into every small thread making the see-through effect. “Wow.” You commented under your breath.
Taehyung thought about how different his style was from these pictures. Sure, they were very good and they showed great talent, but that didn’t mean that he would want one in his own house.
“I was in Greece when I made that one.” The artist explained. “Beautiful country. Have you ever been there?” He asked.
You turned, making your light summer gown twirl in the motion, exposing more of your calves and the soft skin of the inner side of the knee as the slit parted, the plump, soft flesh of your thigh still protected by the row of small buttons that ran from your belly button to your knees.
Taehyung thought you were too beautiful for this universe. Nevertheless, as he stared at you and the artist there, right in front of his face, he felt actually menaced, for the first time. Something ugly slithered around his chest, tightening and tightening as your calm, composed voice said: “No, I’ve never been to Greece. I’ve only ever visited Jeju once, and I’ve travelled to Japan a couple times but normally I don’t get the chance to travel much.” You explained, blushing.
He would take you all around the world, Taehyung thought. He would spend Christmas with you in the Alps and make love to you in Amsterdam for your birthday, and of course, he would take you to Greece, feed you grapes and cherries and damn watermelon too. He would have you in white, light clothes and take pictures of you standing by the sea, your bright, flowy skirts contrasting with the deep blue of the sea — like the one he saw in Malta. He would rent a small house away from anyone and watch you sunbathe naked, with no one interrupting him as he drew you again, and again and again, until his hand could draw you with his eyes closed. He would leave the windows always open, the long white curtains flowing in the breeze as he would wake up from his afternoon nap and wrap his naked body around yours, kissing you and rubbing against you until you were nothing but two bodies melting into each other, like an embrace could naturally slide into passionate lovemaking. He couldn’t even think about nights. Nights were something he was too weak to think about.
Lost in his musings, he didn’t even realise your visit had come to an end, the gallery empty just like it had been when you had arrived, booked for a private visit for Taehyung and you alone, for safety and viewing pleasure.
“Thank you for visiting,” the artist said, bowing to Taehyung.
“Thank you for guiding us,” Taehyung replied. “I’ll let you know if I find any of the pictures fit.”
“Of course.” The artist said, kindly.
Taehyung nodded and was ready to leave the moment he heard the artist speak again. “Excuse me, miss, I’d like to ask... I’ve been working on portraits for my new collection, and I would be extremely pleased if you would pose for me.” He said. “I don’t usually... I usually book professional models but I thought someone with your looks could be really interesting to portray.” He explained. “I can leave you... Uhm.” He rummaged in his pocket and offered you a small piece of paper. His business card. Stealing a pen from the entry table, he wrote something on it. “I’d be honoured.” He commented, offering you the card.
You raised your eyebrows and smiled. “Thank you. I can already tell you I don’t think I’ll accept.” You looked at the floor. “I don’t have much spare time and I’m a bit too uncomfortable when people stare at me.” You chuckled embarrassedly. “Plus, I don’t think my boyfriend would be very happy with it.” You said, giving him a hint.
Taehyung was furious, still he kept all his inner turmoil to himself. Until you reached the car. The moment you sat at his side on the passenger’s seat, he started the car and began driving silently.
“Are you upset?” You asked, looking at him, keeping all the enthusiasm about the exhibition to yourself. You were more than capable to divide the artist from the person behind it. He was talented, maybe a bit sleazy as a person — and a bit too flirty — but still, talented. Plus, Taehyung hadn’t made it clear that he was with you as your boyfriend.
Taehyung tutted. “No.” He replied.
“Did he make you uncomfortable?” You could feel his mood poison the air in the car like dark waves of black oil covering the surface of the sea. It reminded you of a scene from Howl’s Moving Castle, when the young, beautiful wizard gets depressed and all his house starts getting covered in green slime.
“I’m okay.”
Catching his free hand, you placed it on your thigh pulling it toward the inner side.
He couldn’t resist, his thumb immediately drawing slow, lazy circles on the smooth, tender skin.
You noticed him taking the route to his apartment. “Aren’t we going out for dinner?”
“Mh.” He noted, counting the minutes until he could claim you all to himself.
“Do I need to un-book?” You asked with a mischievous grin.
He looked at you, his mouth forming a slow, insecure smile before he nodded in reply.
The rest of the night is a fuzzy memory of his mouth hungry and his hands grabby on the lift on your way up to his apartment, the shape of him hard in your palm as you entered the door, your attempt at offering him a blowjob, already lowering yourself to one knee before he pulled you up.
“That’s generous of you but I need inside.” He growled as he walked the both of you to his bedroom.
You didn’t even remember anything of him undressing you, it was all a whirlwind of limbs until you found yourself with your legs spread open and his mouth on your clit, his fingers stretching you before he stood on his knees and grabbed a condom.
You remembered his groan as he slid inside, your walls welcoming him with their tight embrace. “Dammit Lace, love this pussy.” He spoke through gritted teeth, your hands landing on his butt and pulling him toward you, inside you, harder, faster. “That’s my pussy.” He said, ramming in. “All mine.” He said, slowing down only to get the right angle. “My girlfriend.” He said, biting your breast, and giving the most precise jabs to your g-spot, suckling your tit, tugging at it, stretching it with his mouth before letting it fall back heavy to your chest. “My nymph. All mine. Mine.” He said again, your body too tense for speaking. Your high reached you as his fingers started toying with your bundle of nerves, rubbing it furiously until both you and him were nothing but two desperate beasts fucking each other.
“I love you.” He said, as soon as he was back to planet Earth, his body heavy on top of yours, his cheek glued to your chest with a mix of drool and sweat. “Love you, my precious dove.” He said again, rubbing the outside of your leg. “My love.” He repeated as you patted his head and reassured him yourself.
“Only yours.”
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