― ❝ever the curious cat, you can’t say no when notorious rockstar V extends an invitation to get to know him better after your televised interview. skin to skin, you become acquainted, and you end up discovering what really goes on behind the scenes in the forms of glistening bodies and alcohol stains on your curves.❞
• genre: smut with plot, 90′s setting
• warnings: dom!tae, big dick!tae, alcohol mentions, sexual tension, exhibitionism, dirty talk, mentions of orgies, condescending praise, sensory play, cum play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
• pairing: taehyung/female reader ft. jimin
• wordcount: 18.4k words
The screams you hear are shrill, sounds that tighten into themselves and spread the growing anticipation for what is about to step on stage.
It wasn’t a matter of who, it was a matter of when, and one of power. A supposed distraction which crawls too deep and makes it uncomfortable either way–the stretch of pulling yourself out of it too empty and painful, the time spent discovering more too consuming and a notch more demanding. Word travels around in big cities if your name carries enough weight, even faster if its heaviness comes from pure metal instead of the alloy they shape in the industry. The words reflect the effect, however unassuming they might be, and with the heavy riffs of a guitar supporting his every claim, it’s possible even for atheists to catch their glimpse of God.
Of course it’s not a matter of who, you chuckle, since there’s only one person who can make everyone feel like this. With the weight of his name pressed against everybody’s lips, a contained sound which catches between them and gets free reign as it is released, it’s easy to pinpoint how their teeth want to grip into it again. The gospels he put out, the ink he splattered and swallowed to build the charm into who he was and stain the raw talent so the corrupted could lose themselves in it–they all served as contour for a distinct identity. His identity. Half boldness and half self-assurance, his rebellion is compelling to watch, since his mouth strictly speaks for his own and never caters. He sings for himself, never for you. But oh, do your loins catch fire when he puts on a show.
It’s entirely lucky for him and fundamentally damning for you that after the four years in the spotlight, he not only owns up to, but deserves every bit of cockiness that he has.
