Strike three | M
Summary: No one can be cold like Kim Taehyung, but no one can warm you up like him.
Pairing: Taehyung X Reader
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Dirty talk
shitloads, light spanking, blindfolds? Handcuffs? Feather play? And Taehyung in like, general. Yeah.
A/N: So i wanted to start my first fic off with a bang (haha get it? J
in would be so proud), and this happened. Dedicated vv sincerely, with my whole heart to @taexyla
Rain patters down hard around you, beside you, and on your head. You curse the Rain God- whoever that damn bastard is (Dude! The basic concept of timing. Please!)- as you plummet your feet into the uneven pavement, gritting your teeth as you glance from your bright phone screen back to the number on the gate again. Nope. Not this one either.
Just what sin you’d committed in your past life to deserve this remains a mystery. Just what you-
Ah! There it is.
The stone ground is hard beneath your cobbled feet as you are faced with uncountable red bricks and a rich splendour of sophistication in the air, and nerves set right into your stomach as you keen upon the ghastly mansion that stands before you. Your eyes circle around its magnificent sheen walls, zeroing in on a practically everything, thoughts widely biased on how appropriate it would be to hurl a mountain at the place right about now.
You shiver. The open streets are really no place for the chilly winter air, and you really are no person to subject yourself to these utterly unnecessary conditions, yet here you are, utterly ballistic at the opportunity to face the bundle of joy that is your boss. Again. As if seeing your employer for the past eleven hours wasn’t enough. Karma is just in love with you today…