Taehyung watches you cry alone in your bed after you and your long term boyfriend break up, and he’s worried.

He’s worried, but he’s been your guardian through other breakups, and he knows you’re strong.

He hovers maybe a little, but that’s all, otherwise leaves you to your own devices, and boy does that turn out to be a mistake.

“Have you checked in on your human lately?” Taehyung’s supervisor, Namjoon, asks dryly a few days later.

Taehyung jumps a bit, distracted.

“I check in on her every night,” he says, almost proudly, and Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should check on her earlier in the night, before she passes out,” his supervisor calls over his shoulder, and Taehyung’s throat tighten with fear.

He knows he’s supposed to fill out paperwork to make an appearance to his human. He knows this. He’s been following you since you turned 18 and he knows all the rules.

But when he looks in on you are on your floor with some bruises on your lower back and a bottle of liquor by your head, he decides he doesn’t have time to wait the week the paperwork will take.

He waits just long enough for you to wake up, and he’s expecting the ache in his chest, that’s part of the gig, that he feels what you feel, but what he isn’t expecting is the raw anger, the way it heats his face, and when you crack open your eyes and sit up on the floor, he ends up burning a hole in your carpet with angel fire when he appears because of that very anger.

The lights flicker when he arrives, and you flinch, but only a little, blinking up at him.

“You…You didn’t leave yet?” You ask, voice hoarse, and you’re reaching for the half empty bottle before Taehyung snatches it out of your hand.

“Stop it,” he says, voice low and booming, and you blink again.

You’re pretty sure this is not the guy you took home, surely you’d remember if you’d managed to snag someone this ridiculously handsome, and surely you’d remember that voice anywhere.

Also, is your carpet…smoking? 

You thought you were still asleep when he just appeared in your bedroom, but now you’re looking around your room, wondering if you choked on your own vomit and died, and then shrugging because it doesn’t bother you much to think that might be true.

“So are you…are you like…the devil?”

He shakes his head, exhaling a frustrated breath through his nostrils. “The opposite, Y/n.”

He squares his shoulders, looking at you expectantly, and you blink again.

He’s wearing just a pair of what looks like…black leggings? And he’s shirtless, and…oh fuck he has wings.

“Holy…”

He nods, as if that clears things up, and he unceremoniously grabs you under your arms, lifting you onto the bed.

You yelp a little in surprise but you don’t protest. You’re touch starved and 4am drunken booty calls aren’t helping with that much although the other…the other at least takes your mind off your ex, takes your mind off how he didn’t think you were good enough, about how he didn’t want you, and about how maybe he was right.

His hands feel so cool on your skin and you’re surprised, given the whole burning the carpet thing. 

“So…you gonna tell me your name, or…”

“Taehyung,” he says absentmindedly, and he’s just looking at you with this almost blank expression on his face.

You rub your thighs unconsciously, look down at yourself and realize you’ve bruises this whole time, but he looks extremely bothered by it, so you don’t attempt to hide yourself.

“Is there like, a reason for this celestial visit? Just in the neighborhood?”

You try to tease him, get something out of him, maybe even a smile, but no dice.

“You’ve been bad,” he says bluntly, and you feel goosebumps break out on your skin, mouth going dry.

“Well, if it’s that type of visit,” you drawl, and you’re not usually this brazen but with the way the last few months have been going, you figure, what’s the harm?

“I’m angry with you,” the angel says, thick brows furrowed.

You pout a little. “But we just met.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been watching you for years. Protecting you. But I never thought I’d have to protect you from yourself.”

“I don’t need this,” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I-I know I’m not good enough. I don’t need my hot guardian angel appearing just to judge me!”

He just frowns harder, still towering over you, but then he sits on the edge of the bed, leaning toward you as you tremble with anger.

He looks at you for a long moment and then envelops you with his wings, putting his forehead to yours, and you gasp at how warm you are, suddenly, how safe you feel.

“I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m not used to talking to humans, and I just…I worry. I don’t judge you.” His voice is a low, soothing baritone, and your tears fall faster.

“I’m so alone,” you whimper.

He leans his head back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his touch cool on your skin, giving you goosebumps.

“You’re not alone,” his voice is fierce. “You’re never alone, little dove.”

You can’t help burying your face in his chest, sobbing out all the loneliness and heartbreak you’d been trying to avoid feeling with booze and nameless men, and he murmurs comforts in your ear.

There’s a faint whooshing sound when he folds his wings back, and it startles you a bit and you pull away, wiping at your face.

He’s just looking at you, big, soulful brown eyes seeming to peer into your soul.

“I want to help you. Tell me how to help you.”

You sniffle. “I…I don’t know. It helps to talk.”

That’s all you do, the first night, you talk and he listens, making that little hum in the back of his throat or protesting a bit when you say something self deprecating, but otherwise just nodding, watching your face.

At one point he takes your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across your palms as you speak.

It’s nearing daylight when you tired, your head drooping as you sit quietly together. Just his presence has started to make you feel safe, and you’ve dozed off when he stands up.

You startle awake, whimpering. “Wait. Don’t. Don’t go. Not yet.”

He’s climbing back on the bed without a word and you clutch at him, lying your head on his chest and he gasps a little at your touch.

“Just stay a little while longer….just a little,” you mumble, eyes drifting shut, and when you shiver he wraps his wings around you both again to warm you.

It’s slow, how it happens, how he starts to feel real to you, starts to feel..almost human. Somehow it becomes a trend, you sleeping with your head on his chest, and you’re not even sure he sleeps because he’s always just gazing at you when you wake up.

He watches you do the simplest things with something like wonder in his eyes, and on the third morning when you sip your coffee and it’s too hot, he vaults over the counter and takes the cup from you, sitting it on the table, frowning at you.

“Tae…what are you-”

He backs you against the fridge with his body and his face is so serious. 

“You should be more careful, dove,” he says, and leans his head down to kiss you, open mouthed, and when you make a surprised squeal into his mouth he barks a little laugh and then takes a step back, covering his mouth.

He just looks so surprised, mouth open in shock, and your mouth is tingling where he’s healed you and suddenly you just can’t stop laughing.

He gives you the most bewildered smile, and then it breaks into this boxy grin and your heart feels lighter than it has in months.

He’s there almost a week, and he doesn’t mention that he should go, that he’s breaking rules by being here, but you can sense it when he goes away to talk to someone you can’t see, voice calm and low but with an underlying fierceness.

It makes your chest tight to think of him leaving, and it’s only made worse the fourth night, when you’re sitting on the floor of your living room and you’re still talking, this time about why you’d been being so reckless with men and alcohol.

He shifts a little on the floor, seeming suddenly nervous, surprising you. He’s always so calm, so reserved.

“Can I…can I ask you something?”

You nod and he lets out a long breath.

“Why do you…why do you let those men do those things to you?”

You bark out a surprised laugh. “Do angels not know about fucking?”

He wrinkles his nose at your language and it makes you smile.

“Of course. There’s nothing sinful about making love,” he says dismissively. “I mean….treat you that way. Say those things to you.”

“What things?”

“One quote I remember is: you d*ck drunk *****,’” he says, nose wrinkling again, and you choke out another laugh.

You shrug. “It’s just a….a kink, Taehyung. Like some people have a thing for being called names like that, it turns them on.”

He seems to consider this for a moment, tilting his head.

“I do not believe it would be my… kink,” he says primly, and you can’t believe you’re laughing again, after the year you’ve had.

“What would be your kink?” You tease.

“Is there a kink for the opposite of that? Telling you how beautiful you are, how your skin glows when you’re in the throes of passion, how your mouth parts in the most exquisite way when you come?”

Your mouth goes instantly dry and your breath catches in your throat. Has he….does he…. watch you?

“Praise,” you choke out. “That would be a praise kink.”

He nods slowly, smiling a bit, and it makes him look almost human, like some handsome boy you’d brought home, if it weren’t for the wings folded on his back.

“Taehyung?”

He hums low in his chest, and it sends a little shiver up your spine.

“Do you…do you watch me?”

“Always,” he says easily.

“I mean…when I’m…with men.”

He frowns a little. “I…I try not to.”

“You don’t like watching me?”

He shakes his head slowly. He did everything slowly, you noticed, everything thought out, careful.

“I like watching you when you’re alone. But with men…. especially your ex…” He wrinkles his nose in disgust again and you smile.

“I guess it’s kind of weird, watching someone have s*x.”

“It’s not that. I don’t like the way they treat you. It isn’t right, the way they touch you.”

You lean forward a bit, interested. “What do you mean?”

He’s quiet for a moment, still frowning, looking down at his hands.

“You….you could show me.”

You don’t know why you said it. You don’t know why you lean toward him.

He makes that hum in the back of his throat again, tilting his head again.

He moves slowly but it’s still surprising, how gently he pushes you down on the bed, towering over you, and you swallow, hard.

“They should’ve touched you like you’re something holy,” he murmurs.

He leans down to kiss the base of your throat, open mouthed, and for just a moment, your skin there is so hot it almost stings, but then it’s cool, almost cold.

He keeps trailing his hand up and down your side and your body is buzzing with pleasure and need when you huff out a breath.

“Tae, come on. I’m not fragile.”

His eyes were following the line of your body but now his gaze darts up to your face.

“Not fragile, but precious. You deserve more than they gave you. You deserve to have every inch of your skin worshipped.”

You whimper quietly, rocking up against his hand, and then he leans down to kiss you, softly at first, then deeper, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You reach up to spread your hands across his chest and he gasps when you run your palm across one of his ni*ples, eyes darting to your face.

You can’t help but smile a little, it’s cute, his reaction.

“There are other ways you can make me feel better, you know,” You gasp out as his fingers never stop inside you. 

“What can I do, little dove?”

“I need….I need someone who knows me. Someone who…who cares about me. Don’t you care about me, Tae?”

His face looks almost pained, the most expression you’d seen him have all night.

“Of course I do.”

“If you love me, then love me, Taehyung,” you murmur.

He doesn’t move, stilling completely, and when you whine he drops down on his forearms, stroking your face.

“Dove,” he murmurs. “Y/n. You deserve to be loved.”

Tears roll down your face and he kisses them away, his lips so hot on your skin that it gives you a chill when he pulls away, and he kisses your mouth then, soft.

You smile at him over your shoulder, your heart skipping a beat.

When you look in the mirror while you’re washing your hands, there’s a line of what looks like burns across your throat, and you trail your fingers along them in wonder.

Taehyung looks almost mournful when you mention them and show him, later, tugging down the hem of your shirt.

“Oh, dove. I’m sorry. Sometimes…sometimes when we get…emotional, there’s angelfire. I can heal them-”

“No!” You cry out, and you flush and look down. “No, I want to…I want to keep them. For when you have to go.”

He flinches a bit, looking so stricken that you go to him, put your arms around him and rest your head on his chest, like you do every night before you go to sleep.

He doesn’t say anything else, but for the first time, he’s not there when you wake up and your heart starts to pound with panic.

But you can hear his low baritone from just outside the door, this time less calm, and you can’t understand what he’s saying but he’s almost shouting, and your breathing slows.

You’re still sitting there a few minutes later when he comes back to the doorway, and his wings are spread and your eyes widen at the sight.

He grunts in frustration when he can’t get through the door and folds them, huffing out a breath.

“What’s wrong?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, just looks at you with big dark eyes, and then he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I…they want me to come home.”

Your heart falls to your toes, but you swallow hard and give him a weak smile.

“Well,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I guess it’s been enough time.”

“No!” He almost shouts, and his eyes soften when you look surprised. He takes your hands, rubbing his thumbs across your palms as he did the first night, looking down at your hands in his, and it makes your chest ache. “It’s not enough time. It will never be enough time.”

When he looks up at you again, tears are rolling down his cheeks and you brush one away with your thumb.

“It’s okay, Tae. I’m okay. I won’t…I won’t do the things I was before. You helped me.”

He shakes his head, throat working as if there are words stuck in it that he can’t say, and you kiss him softly.

“You can go,” you say, and your voice doesn’t break, to your surprise. “You have to go.”

Taehyung leans down to rest his forehead on your joined hands and your heart is breaking, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You reach out a shaking hand to stroke his hair.

“Y/n,” he says, brokenly, kissing the tops of your hands. “Little dove.”

“I…I can’t watch you go. But you’ll be watching me, yeah? You’ll be watching me, and I’ll be safe.”

You have to tug hard to take your hands from his and you wonder if you’ll ever forget the wrecked look on his face when he lifts his head.

You leave the room as quickly as you can, scrambling off the bed and closing the door behind you before you start to sob.

You pace in the kitchen until the lights in your apartment flicker, the way they did the first night he came to you, and you bolt to your room, hoping against hope he’s still there, but there’s nothing but a burned, smoking spot on your bed where’d he’d been sitting and on your pillow, a white, silky feather.