#hushyeah

“Hey, fellas!” 

Hoseok’s bright hair and even brighter outfit were what greeted you all behind the backstage gate. Walking through the festival area was easy enough; it was VIP security that ended up giving your group a hard time, gruffly asking for passes and IDs. When Namjoon told them that they didn’t have any passes--because Hoseok said they wouldn’t need them--it was a hard sell and turned into minutes of your group standing awkwardly at the barricade. 

Tired of the nonsense, Yoongi rang up his friend, the boisterous rapper coming up seconds later with his arms high above his platinum choppy-haired head. “Let them in, let them in,” he chirped while clapping one of the guards’ shoulders. “They’re with me.” 

Since you were purely focused on not speaking to Taehyung or looking in his general direction, you had your eyes glued to your phone during the whole ordeal. After everyone filed in, you started observing your surroundings in earnest. 

There were equipment dumps here and there, eighteen-wheelers with ads plastered on the sides, and multiple canopied areas with string lights and rugs and random furniture choices. When Hoseok babbled on, he led you into the biggest party tent behind the main stage, just out of sight of the public area. 

“You guys need to relax,” he laughed, cheekbones poking from his skin and eyes lit. You could tell he was already in his element just being at the festival-- watching him perform was going to be the highlight of the night for sure. “You look stiff as fuck.” 

Surprisingly, Namjoon was the first one to respond, waving a hand to bat away the persistent marijuana smell. “Never been to one of these, Hob. I’m just here for you.” 

“I’m just here for the food,” Jungkook drawled right before drifting straight to the catering area, having already said his greetings to the newfound superstar. 

You shook your smiling head at his retreating back. Beside you, a deep voice whispered, “He’s nervous.” 

Turning, you faced Taehyung, too taken aback by how well he blended in with the environment to notice a couple things. One, you weren’t supposed to be conversing with him, and two, those were the first words he spoke directly to your face since the initial car ride. 

Now that you were looking at him, too, you couldn’t help but inwardly swoon. His animal print shirt hung lazily from his shoulders, and a light sheen of sweat from the heat accentuated the gold of his chains. You quickly darted your eyes to their glinting forms before whispering back, “What do you mean?” 

His eyes were still aimed straight ahead. “He wants to make it big, too. I think he’s gonna try talking to some people here, but I can also bet he’s gonna chicken out.” 

“How do you know?” 

Taehyung chuckled ruefully. “He hasn’t changed.” 

It was strange how casual he was being with you, how he was being… Normal. Was everything up until now a pure fever dream? A fantasy you cooked up from pure boredom? 

No. The wetness between your legs served as a damning reminder that it was very, stupidly real, just like the ill feelings you were supposed to be harboring for him. Was he really not thinking about how he just made you come without even being there? Now that you thought about it, he technically didn’t know for sure. 

Though you wouldn’t put it past the confident jerk that he assumed you did. He was probably just nonchalant about the whole thing--one girl coming to the sounds of his voice was superfluous because it happened so often. You were just a number.

A distraction in the form of a glass bottle appeared in front of your face, courtesy of a boy with pastel dyed hair. “Kookie’s never gonna get anywhere if he doesn’t come out of his shell,” Jimin sighed, taking a swig of his beer while you and Taehyung grabbed yours. 

“He’s doing well online, though, right?” You took a small sip, still not completely used to the taste as it ran down your throat. It was an incredible excuse to keep standing there next to Taehyung, though, despite your pending revenge. Everyone else was a stranger in the tent, no matter how famous they were--even the guy with black and blond hair walking in--

Oh, shit. 

He was there? 

You ran through the festival lineup in your head while wondering how the hell you forgot that a certain group was attending. Not one to fawn over celebrities, it was unnatural to react this strongly, but there were definitely exceptions. 

That man was one of them. 

Gripping your beer a bit tighter, you bit your lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. 

Wooyoung was there. The same Wooyoung that you had been crushing on ever since his band’s debut a couple years ago. You still remember the day that Nila and you discovered Eight Kings together through one of your mindless YouTube rabbit holes, and you have been whipped for their guitarist-slash-singer ever since. 

You couldn’t help a quick breath leaving your nose before your smile slipped through the tiny rim of your bottle. Taehyung and Jimin were still talking about the youngest to notice, thankfully; you wouldn’t have heard the end of it if they caught wind of your adoration. 

However, you weren’t out of the clear yet because Hoseok’s voice rang over your head, 

“Oh, there he is. Wooyoungie! Come over here, I want you to meet some friends.” 

Cursing under your breath, you spun around before the man could face your group fully, body alight with nervousness. Admiring the guy from afar was painful enough. You weren’t prepared for something up-close! 

Because of your quick movement, your display of embarrassment caught the eye of someone nearby, unbeknownst to you. While you were walking behind the boys to hide behind Namjoon’s broad back, your phone buzzed. 

Taehyung: Someone’s got it bad

You could practically hear the smugness in his tone, the bastard. If he spoke to you out loud you were sure the sarcasm would be dripping from his perfect lips. 

They needed a cork shoved into them. 

You: Shut up

You: It’s wooyoung!! 

Taehyung: I heard he was sloppy

You: Maybe I like sloppy?

Taehyung: Cute

You: Jealous? 

Taehyung: Ha ha

A soft snort was the accompanying response, which tore your glare from your screen. Your texting buddy was lazily standing a ways off, exchanging hello’s with Wooyoung as the young star conversed with ease. From behind Namjoon and your brother, you quietly melted at how honey-like the singer’s voice sounded in person. 

“And the mouse hiding behind this tree is my sister.” 

You didn’t have time to react before your shield abandoned you, leaving you to fend for yourself in front of your longtime crush. While doing so, Namjoon sighed, “Tree? Really?”

Without missing a beat, Wooyoung stepped through the erupting banter, smiling wide and asking what your name was. You tried your best not to flounder, but your voice was a tad shaky when you responded. 

“Oh, that’s pretty,” he said, as if he knew it would make you weak in the knees. When you grinned and said your thanks, Wooyoung smiled even wider, keeping his eyes on you a little longer than normal. You figured it was just how he was with everyone. 

A hand landed on his shoulder before you heard Seokjin’s level voice, the man abandoning his conversation with Namjoon in a heartbeat,

“I’m sure you’re very busy, Wooyoungie. Don’t let us keep you.” 

God, not this again. From the commanding, low tone to the look in his eyes, you knew exactly what the hell your brother was getting at. He was usually a calm, reserved person, which made his presence multiply when he decided otherwise. And currently, he didn’t give a shit who Wooyoung was as long as he was looking at you like that. 

Which sucked for you because a celebrity on your very short List was just politely threatened. By your brother. How were you supposed to come back from that? How in the world were you going to live through the fact that Wooyoung probably thought you were a sheltered sibling? 

Luckily, the guy in the tight jeans wasn’t phased. He simply swiveled around and chuckled, “I am, I am. Nice meeting you all, and have a good time!” 

Turns out that the cheeky man was there somewhere deep under his leather jacket and half-up ponytail because after walking a couple paces, the guitarist looked back and winked at you one more time. 

Seokjin was too busy to notice---already listening to Yoongi saying something about wanting to check out the equipment backstage---but you and a couple other pairs of eyes did. 

Wooyoung flirted with you. Actually spared you a backwards glance. Nila would never, ever believe you but you sure as hell weren’t going to shut up about it. The fluttering in your stomach had cascaded all the way down to your toes. 

Sounds of the festival and lively conversation inside the tent flooded your ears again. Blinking rapidly to snap yourself out of it, you shook your head and took a long swig of your now lukewarm drink. 

Jungkook had returned while Wooyoung was introducing himself, it seemed. He was deep in conversation with Jimin and Taehyung to the side, and with your brother off with the elders, you were feeling the strong eighth wheel effect you were dreading since the beginning. 

Yoongi’s words floated back into your mind as you felt the horrible loneliness. 

“Fuck that. Enjoy yourself.” 

How were you supposed to do that when you clearly didn’t know anyone else? Surveying the room, you only saw groups of beautiful people conversing with each other, laughing or shamelessly flirting or discussing business deals. Sure, you recognized plenty of them, but you didn’t really know them. It wasn’t like you could just walk up to the stunning girl group chatting and laughing away by the bar, or strike up a conversation with the EDM deejay and smugly say that your friend Yoongi was a big fan. 

Maybe Jungkook had a point: you could always just go for the food. 

At least that would give you something to do. Convinced, you marched over to the catering tables on the other side of the tent, enticed by the smoky smells and liking your decision already. On the way, you felt a vibration in your pocket, so after chucking your bottle in a random garbage can, you fished the device out. 

Taehyung: Get me a plate

You legitimately blew a raspberry. 

You: Umm no? Get it yourself

Taehyung: You would get wooyoungie a plate 

That was an interesting text. 

But you knew everything was an act with him. A game. 

And today was the day that you would play your own. You had stayed resolute with a dark visage the whole ride over while the boys ooh’d and ahh’d at the accoutrements in the limo. Taehyung casually engaging you in conversation threw you momentarily, but separating yourself had gotten you back on track.

You: I would :) bc he would ask nicely 

Taehyung: Ha. Like you would even talk to him

Taehyung: I bet you couldn’t even say hi again

You stood off to the side of the food stations, staring at your phone and periodically glancing up to watch your texting partner. 

He looked just as delicious as before, the demon. Even when he stood nonchalantly next to the others with a bottle in his hand, you felt a twinge of want trying to unearth itself from under all the loathing you felt.

Thinking about your plan to get back at him, you realized that an option presented itself. 

Two birds with one stone: an excuse to try again with Wooyoung and an even better excuse to potentially get back at Taehyung. How could you pass it up? 

You: What do I get if I win?

Glancing up again, you watched as Taehyung checked his phone mid-laugh at something Jimin said, his expression slipping into one of pensiveness. You couldn’t avoid the quick look he shot back at you, so to cover up your anxiousness, you cocked your eyebrow and looked away.

It took a minute for him to respond, but your stomach did a quick flip when he did.

Taehyung: What do you want?

In all honesty, you didn’t have a clue. Did you go the petty route and ask for something humiliating for him to do? Or did you actually want whatever the hell was happening between you two to continue despite your better judgment? 

You: What are you offering?

Side-eyeing the guy after you sent the text, you were slightly surprised to see him bite his thumbnail, staring at his phone but not typing anything. Knowing all of the boys’ tells from being around them for so long, you knew that meant he was deep in thought. 

If he was legitimately considering something… Maybe things weren’t entirely a game after all?

Taehyung: I’ll eat you out

Your phone slipped forward and threatened to fall before you caught yourself. 

Fuck! He wasn’t serious, was he? When would he ever get the chance? The time? The level of fuck-all that one needed to dismiss any caution? 

You: Lol

Taehyung: What? 

You: Not possible

Taehyung: Only if you lose the bet :) 

Taehyung: But what do I get when I win? 

It was your turn to mull things over. He was so sure of himself that you almost believed he would follow through. So what did that leave you with? Were you going to offer the same thing? 

You hastily typed a reply before pocketing your phone to grab a plate, picking the foodstuffs you wanted but too self-conscious to get adequate servings. Purposefully ignoring the part of you that was fine getting Taehyung food, you tore yourself away from the catering tables, accidentally bumping into someone. 

“Oh, shit!” You held your plate as far out from the stranger as you could, adjusting quickly when it wobbled in your hand. When nothing spilled, you sighed in relief. 

“That was close.” 

Honey voice. Hands on your hips.

Turning, you saw Wooyoung himself next to you, unblinking when he retracted fingers that left fire on your waist. 

He was there. You’d been blessed with another chance. 

But it wasn’t about seeing him at that moment.

Without thinking about anything else except the bet that you needed to win, you skipped any thanks or excuses and simply blurted, “Hi.” 

The young man laughed lightly before replying with a similar greeting.  

“Nice food,” you continued, embarrassment searing your cheeks right after. Nice food? Forget your brother botching any chances with this guy when you could do it all by yourself! 

Wooyoung wasn’t deterred enough to leave your side, though, being the gentleman he was. “Right? I was surprised, actually! Don’t let me keep you from eating. Come sit.” 

A hand placed on your stiffened back led you to an unoccupied corner of the tent. Too shocked to say anything, you took in as much detail as you could: flat circle rug, makeshift couch made of car seats, wooden stump for a table, Wooyoung’s hand still on your back.

If his fingers wandered any higher, he would definitely know you weren’t wearing a bra.

“How are you enjoying the festival so far?” 

You flinched a bit at his question, turning to face him as you approached the seating area. “Umm, good! I mean, I’m good--I mean, wow, sorry.” You shook your head, berating yourself from being so flustered. Nila would definitely be laughing her ass off at you if she was there. 

Wooyoung was there to laugh in her place, though, and you couldn’t believe you were allowed to hear it for free. “Relax,” he assuaged, voice dipping a bit lower and mouth curving a bit higher, “It’s okay.” 

“Sorry.” You nudged your food, realizing that it was quickly getting cold. “I just really like you. Wait! I mean, I really like your voice--your music.” 

Whatever deities were responsible for taking the dead from the world, they could come get you now. 

That was quickly becoming the worst conversation you had ever had, all because you wanted to somehow get back at Taehyung for stringing you along. It seemed like he was doing nothing but ruining your life ever since that stupid accident, intentionally or not. 

If you didn’t rein things in, Wooyoung was definitely going to leave and file a restraining order against you, and you would wince every time an Eight Kings song came on. 

“You can like me, too.” 

What? 

Glancing up from your cold food, you could only take in Wooyoung’s face, a smile so genuine that everything else in the tent behind him blurred. “Oh, I…” 

“You’re cute, you know that?” 

The amount of times you had dreamed about this scenario couldn’t be displayed with two hands and two feet alone. It was a situation you could only imagine while reading choice fiction about the guy. 

So why were you suddenly wondering if Taehyung was watching? Were you worried he would see your knees very close to Wooyoung’s, your bodies leaned toward each other, your floundering in the guitarist’s presence? 

Shifting your focus just enough to clear the background behind Wooyoung, you tried to be as discreet as possible while looking for your betting partner. You didn’t see your brother, nor his older friends, but you did see Jungkook and Jimin talking to Hoseok. No sign of Taehyung. 

Where was--

Oh. 

Once you caught sight of him, something dark and white hot burned in your throat. 

He wasn’t looking at you. 

He wasn’t even turned your way to witness your win. 

Instead, he was rather… occupied. 

Up against a canvas wall of the tent, your ultimate nemesis stood in the middle of a group of women. Not just any random gathering, but the famous group you saw chatting away while feeling out of place. 

Taehyung certainly didn’t seem out of place. In fact, you stormily admitted that he fit right in as he smoothly entertained his company. Your body burned from the way he smiled at their words, laughed at something one of them said. He didn’t even flinch when a perfectly manicured hand found its way up his chest--a chest that was even more prominent because one more button had come undone since you left his side.

Of course he wasn’t going to pay you any attention. 

So much for stupid vengeance and so much for hoping that Taehyung actually cared about the bet. 

Now you just felt silly and naive. 

Hurt and feeling sick, you forced your eyes back to Wooyoung and faked a smile. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

“I said you’re cute,” he repeated, and you strangely felt less intimidated and shy in his presence. Maybe it was the fact that you weren’t thinking about a bet anymore, or the fact that any semblance of you and Taehyung walking a tightrope or going back to normal were squashed. Truthfully, even Wooyoung seemed more attainable and easy to deal with at that point.

“Thank you,” you answered, lips curving in a more genuine way. “I try.” 

Whatever it was, you found yourself living in the moment, chatting it up with the star and loving every second of it. When he suddenly asked if you wanted to check out his trailer, eyes alight with diamonds, you agreed right away. When he reached for your hand, you took it with no hesitation, still starstruck and wondering how things ended up that way. 

You two were halfway across the dried-grass field that separated the trailers from the tent when you got a text. Reluctantly letting go of Wooyoung’s hand to check it, you furrowed your brows. It was not from someone you expected. 

Taehyung: Where are you? 

You hated the way your stomach flipped on itself, fizzling with a foreign feeling. Not knowing whether to reply or not, you just stared at your screen and started to wonder why he even cared. Didn’t he have pretty faces to entertain? 

Taehyung: Jimin wants to walk around

So that’s what it was about. 

Feeling your stomach flop in a darker way, you clicked your phone shut, too petty and hurt to answer. He didn’t see anything off about telling you he’d do one thing then paraded with others minutes later.

“Who was that?” 

Glancing up at Wooyoung and drinking in his look of curiosity, you smiled. “No one.” 

The man just laughed softly before continuing to walk. “You sure it wasn’t your boyfriend,” he joked with a cock of his eyebrow. 

Broken inside, you chuckled. “Definitely not.” 

“So no boyfriend then?” 

You shrugged. “No boyfriend. No girlfriend.” 

“Ah,” he replied wistfully, looking to the skies that started to slip into hues of pink and orange. The main stage lights behind you bloomed so strongly that they blocked out any stars, and you could hear people starting to practice their songs in different spots around the area. “That’s too bad.” 

“Why?” 

Wooyoung abruptly stopped and spun, leaving you no choice but to bump into his chest. Your chin was then cradled by a soft, warm hand, and your eyes widened when his face bent closer to yours. “‘Cus you’d make a cute date,” he cooed.

Stunned into silence, you didn’t know how to process what was happening. The lighthearted conversation in the tent--although much flirtier than you expected--was crazy enough, but this? Wooyoung’s veiny hand clutching your chin, his perfect face inches from yours, and his iconic locks brushing the sides of your face? Maybe you had some bad catering and this was actually the next life. Maybe you did get hauled off the planet and this was just a fantasy dream.

When you still didn’t provide a response seconds later, Wooyoung lightly laughed, his breath fanning your face. “And this is exactly why.” 

“I--” 

“Sorry to interrupt.” 

Immediately, you jumped out of Wooyoung’s hold and turned at the sound. 

A couple meters away stood Taehyung, lazily and with his hands in his pockets. Even though you were sure the tone you just heard was abrupt, the guy didn’t even look like he wanted to be there. But what were you feeling? Goosebumps coated your arms and your knees wobbled just a tad.

His face never wavered away from stoic when he slowly took a few more steps forward. “But she’s needed elsewhere. Hope’s orders.”

For a moment, you had no response to give. Nothing but jumbled words and phrases mixed in your throat, swirling in liquid confusion. Was he telling the truth? Or was there something else going on? 

“It’ll just be a second,” Wooyoung coolly replied as Taehyung got even closer. “We won’t take long.” 

“I believe that,” your brother’s friend smiled, shocking you even further when he slung a firm arm around your shoulder as a barrier between you and the guitarist. “But I don’t think Hobi’s as lenient as me.” 

Against your will, your body molded into his chest and your nose drank in his strong cologne, captive. Woods? Pine? Whatever it was, the scent was sharper than your mind proved to be.

Taehyung’s breath rolled down your neck, and you couldn’t help but relish in the fact that his arm was wrapped around your frame. The only thing you could do was shift your eyes to Wooyoung. 

Shaken, the young man ran a hand through his two-toned hair, his face betraying the nonchalant gesture. That was one thing you gathered about the guy through all the behind-the-scenes videos and interviews his band posted: he wore his emotions on his barely-worn sleeves. 

You felt bad. 

He wasn’t being malicious enough to warrant whatever the hell Taehyung did. Lightly separating yourself from your captor’s side, you froze and straightened your back when he tightened his arm just a fraction, resisting your retreat. 

The star finally responded with a smile. “I suppose you’re right.” 

You offered Wooyoung a rueful look after his shout, mouthing an apology. 

Observing the pair of you with a curious look, the young man just grinned wider and winked at you. “See you at the show,” he said, pivoting on his boot before walking the rest of the way to his trailer. 

When the leather-clad star’s back was turned, you wrenched yourself out of Taehyung’s hold, flat out ignoring your body’s ache from loss of contact. “What the hell was that about?” 

“What do you mean?” 

You scoffed before spinning to head back to the tent. “It’s bullshit for Hobi to be the one that sent you.” 

Taehyung met your stride with ease, and he cocked an eyebrow while asking, “What do you want me to say? That I just came to get you because I was jealous?” A laugh punctuated the end of his question, and you swore your stomach bubbled over with loathing. 

Even if that was what you really wanted, he didn’t have to be a complete ass about it.

Booted out of your cloudy fantasy time with Wooyoung and back to reality, you stomped back to the tent with frustration, missing the way Taehyung followed you with a thumbnail between his teeth.

“Three Bomb-Pops and a Fudgesicle, please.” 

“Wait, no, ice cream sandwich.” 

“Dude, you had like ten minutes to decide. Sorry, ice cream sandwich for my indecisive friend, please.”  

You watched as the cashier at the concessions booth didn’t care how many corrections Jimin gave. The poor guy was visibly smitten by the man in a black jacket and aviators, nodding along and staring hard at his charming smile. 

But your head was still enveloped in a thick, dark cloud, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy his floundering. 

After Taehyung and you re-entered the tent, Jimin and Jungkook waved you over, impatient to explore the festival grounds. You tagged along reluctantly -- not because you didn’t want to finally walk around, but because you had to put on a front yet again. It wasn’t going to bode well for you if you were radio silent the whole time. 

Ever the observant type, Jimin made a point to include you in conversations and decisions, which led you to think you weren’t trying hard enough to hide your emotions. When everyone’s backs were turned, you chucked daggers at Taehyung, hoping he would keel over from your attacks. 

Especially when his eyes lingered on other festival-goers.  

He was the most confusing and irritating person on the goddamned planet. Revenge was looking a little too light of a punishment at that point; maybe divine retribution more suited your tastes. 

But also, you were starting to regret doing anything with him. Yes, it felt good as hell to fool around in the car with your longtime crush, and he effortlessly made you come just through audio and text messages alone. But was it worth it to keep going? Was it worth it to keep entertaining the guy? 

He clearly didn’t push pause on his charm with anyone else. Very clearly. Even then, with you walking beside him, he was checking people out and flashing a devilish smile at any pair of bedroom eyes latching onto his face. 

It wasn’t good for your health. You couldn’t pretend to be okay with all of that.

“Thanks.” 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Jimin’s light voice, and you watched Taehyung help him hold the popsicles he paid for. When yours was handed to you, you took it without a word, looking away before Taehyung’s gaze lingered. 

“Let’s go to stage four,” Jimin suggested while picking some napkins from the booth’s counter. 

“Who’s on now?” 

Jungkook sported a mouth full of chocolate bread and ice cream when he answered, “That girl from that thing.” 

“Not helpful, Kook.” 

“The one that Kookie covered when he busked last year.” 

Taehyung made a face. “Ah, nah. That wasn’t the one I wanted to see.” 

Jimin turned to regard him before his gaze landed on your awaiting stance. With a smile, he shrugged and offered, “We’ll go, then! Just catch up with us at the main stage when the big acts start.” 

Caught off-guard, you were about to plead for them to stay, but Jimin had dragged the youngest away by his black tank, almost making him trip on his flat sneakers and giving you a good view of his side-chest. 

And that left you with Taehyung. 

Alone. 

If this had happened to the you that existed before the car ride, you would have been ecstatic. Giddy, even. But so much had happened since then and so many emotions had been played with that the current you decided that it was the time to snap. 

“You didn’t have to drag me away back there,” you bit out, brows furrowed. 

And in pure Kim Taehyung fashion, the man only cooed, “Aww, are you still mad that I interrupted something?” 

“There wasn’t a something.”

“Looked like it to me.” 

“He was just gonna show me his trailer,” you said in defense, stopping your popsicle near your mouth when Taehyung stilled. 

He cocked his head to the side, dark bangs falling into his eyes. “Did you really believe that?” 

Something about the way he looked at you then made excitement rumble in your belly, and you tried your absolute hardest to squash the feeling. “Guys don’t always have to have an ulterior motive like you.”

“What’s my ulterior motive?” Taehyung looked genuinely confused, and your eyes flickered to his melting popsicle instead of his perfect face. 

“You know what it is.” 

A low chuckle caressed your soul before the man said with confidence, “Baby, that’s always my only motive and I’m pretty sure it’s yours, too.” 

And that confirmed everything you’ve been thinking about and dreading. 

Taehyung wasn’t there to do anything other than play with you, and you could already see him dropping you to the wayside like the plastic litter around you when he was done. Were you really going to be expendable? Were you going to let yourself be strung along by his games? 

Defending yourself for two seconds, you decided to walk away without a word. 

You were tired of whatever he was doing with you. Though you couldn’t place all the blame on him--you practically ignored all of his outs in the car--you were definitely putting a stop to any other feelings getting hurt. He clearly didn’t care what you thought anyways. 

Shockingly, long fingers wrapped around yours as you took your fourth step. “What’s up with you?” 

Was he really asking that? 

The sound that escaped you was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Deciding to flat out lie, you turned your head to regard his hand around yours. “Umm, nothing?” 

“I’m not stupid.”

“Debatable.” 

“Is this about me?” 

You tried to release your wrist from his grasp, but for the second time that night, he resisted. “It’s nothing, Taehyung.” 

“For the love of---come here.” The man pulled you back, almost making you trip on the loose dirt before your back hit his sweaty shirt. Your heart leapt in the other direction when you felt his cold lips and hot breath on the shell of your ear. “I would very much like it if you didn’t lie to me again.” 

“Taehyung, what are you doing,” you whispered, panicked and trying to separate yourself from his body, failing. Captivated by his breath tickling your ear and frightened by the prospect of being caught, your entire body locked up. Your words came out jangled when you continued, “Anyone can see us.” 

“Then you should probably tell me the truth, yeah? Is this about me, or not?” 

Fuck, he smelled divine. Between the musky scent of his cologne and the brief touch of sun on his skin, you wanted nothing more than to just say screw it and turn around to devour him. But as much as you were reveling in his touch, you knew it would end in a bloodbath were you to be seen. 

But there was also another layer that you had to keep circling back to: if Taehyung wanted honesty, then he was going to get it, whether he liked the words you used or not. 

With a harsh bite to your response, you answered, “You want the truth? Yeah, this is about you. I don’t know what the hell you think of me, you’re being confusing as hell, and you’re clearly done with me. I don’t need you to play me this whole trip if all you’re going to do is tease because of one accident.” 

Truthfully, you needed to pat yourself on the back for getting everything out coherently and levelled. That was a lot for the first real conversation you had with your brother’s friend one-on-one, especially since you both hadn’t seen each other in years. 

Both of you were different. At least, you knew you were, and you knew that Taehyung carried himself much differently than he did before. He was the boisterous kid that stayed on the border of entertaining and annoying, the one that whined constantly until he got what he wanted.

Now? He seemed secretive, confident, more reserved. He knew he could get whatever he wanted, and he looked at home even in a place where he knew just as little people as you did. Gone was the snotty-nosed brat, replaced with a more infuriating and confusing brat. You had to snap whatever crush you were holding for him because it was only going to end badly. 

But after you threw all of your cards on the table, you got nothing in reply. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Befuddled once again, you whispered, “Tae--”

“Since I’m not feeling you up or telling you what I want to do to you, I don’t want it anymore?” 

Everything around you blurred. 

Your breath hitched.

Breath tiny, you squeaked, “That’s--” 

“Since I’m not texting that I’d rather see you suck on something else, I’m being confusing?” 

Shit, shit, shit. Your heart thumped in overdrive, and heated desire rushed between your legs when his other hand gripped the back of your shirt. “Taehyung--” 

“Since I’m not telling you that I wanted to rip this off and fuck you against little Wooyoungie’s trailer, I’m done?” 

Nothing concrete registered in your head. The only idea that persisted through the sudden fog in your mind was Taehyung dragging you across the field and kicking open a random bathroom door to fuck you senseless in. You already knew he wouldn’t be gentle, and you didn’t want him to be in the slightest. 

Hearing him say these things in person made everything worse. Much, much worse. Not through texts, not through audio messages, but right against your tingling skin. It somehow made everything real, and you had no damn clue how to handle it. 

Your breath came out just as ragged as you felt when you finally said, “I thought… I thought--” 

“Most of them are back in the tent behind the main stage,” Taehyung whispered, dragging a finger up your spine and splaying his hand around the back of your neck. “And we’ve got about fifteen minutes to catch up with Jimin and Kook.” 

“What are you getting at,” you whispered, chest heaving in anticipation and excitement fluttering in your belly. 

Taehyung’s hand tightened around your neck just enough to send chills all the way to your toes. 

Your breath shook as he slid a finger into the waistband of your shorts. The fact that you were in public, surrounded by people and patch blankets and smoke, should have alarmed you. But for some reason, it only heightened your arousal and made your core tremble. 

“Well, you won our bet,” he murmured, and you could hear rather than see his impish smile when he licked your ear before finishing, 

“And I have just enough time to pay up.” 

Fuck. You didn’t know how to react. It felt like everything left your body in that moment, including your breath and any semblance of strength. 

But something happened after he said that, something that yanked you into another round of confusion. 

You felt nothing against your back except cold air and a lack of contact. What was that? Why did he suddenly step away? 

When you turned, you saw Taehyung a few steps out, head tilted to the side and eyes in fiendish slits. 

“What are you doing?” 

He cocked an eyebrow before spreading his wet lips wide. “I made the offer, but it’s up to you whether you want it or not.” Looking over to this side, he jutted his chin out to a small brick building in between the food trucks and stands. That structure housed the bathrooms, you noticed with a glance. “Since you’re so paranoid, I’ll be waiting in there. But I’m not waiting for long. Your choice.” 

Without anything else to say, Taehyung stuck his almost finished popsicle inside his mouth, sliding the stick out unbelievably slowly and licking it clean. Winking, he turned and made his way to the bathrooms, leaving you with blue and red liquid on your fingers and goo for brains. 

All you could do was blink. 

And blink again. 

What were you going to do? 

This is what you’d been wanting this entire time, and in a place where your brother and the rest of his friends weren’t anywhere to be seen. Were you supposed to take this as a sign? 

But so many unfortunate scenarios wiggled their way into your mind. What if your brother actually saw you? What if one of them just happened to walk by when you went into a stall and stayed long enough until you came out with Taehyung close behind? 

Thankfully, he didn’t have you walk together. He definitely knew you well enough to know that you would fight him on the spot if he did. 

That was another thing that didn’t make sense: how was he able to understand you after years of being apart? How was he able to sense what you were thinking or know what you wanted even though it had been so long since you’d spoken? 

Not that you were complaining. Mixed feelings, sure, but definitely no complaints. 

It was just interesting. 

You shoved your shoe into the shriveled grass in front of you, staring at the way it made a slight divot in the ground. 

Did you know him well enough, too? 

You would like to think you did, but you couldn’t be sure. But if the two of you didn’t know each other as well as you did, would you have done any of the things that happened in the first place? Were you comfortable fooling around with him because you knew him? Because it was thrilling and inappropriate? 

Or was it mostly because these were things you’d wanted to do all along and finally get to show him what you could do? Show him how you’d changed since he last saw you and make him think about nothing but your name.

With this thought, you suddenly found yourself in front of the brick building, your empty popsicle stick still in your sticky palm. 

Well, you did need to wash your hands… 

A slight panic over how long Taehyung had been waiting was the last push you needed to shove yourself into the woman’s bathroom. 

It wasn’t the brightest space, but it wasn’t completely dimmed. 

But it also wasn’t empty. There were a few people washing their hands and most of the stalls were occupied, bits of conversations and laughs filling the neutral-painted space as you made your way to the sinks. Chucking your trash in the plastic bin, you absentmindedly washed the stickiness away as you covertly checked the mirror, trying to see if you spotted any familiar shoes in the stalls. 

Then you remembered with a scowl that there was no way he would make it out of the women’s restroom alive. 

Where did he wait for you? In the men’s? He had to know that wouldn’t exactly work, either. 

You exited the washroom and subconsciously scanned the area outside the building for anyone you knew, as if Jimin and Jungkook would suddenly pop up and scare you to pieces. When no one was spotted, you made your way around the side of the building to check something, and goosebumps lined your skin when you found what you were looking for. 

Family rooms. 

That’s where he had to be. 

But were you really going to do this? Were you really going to fall right back into his charms and risk it all again? 

Yes, the first time was in a car with everyone, but he didn’t even get under your panties. The most he got was a feel of your ass and how wet you were through the material. But now? If he was really going to do what he offered… 

Hands trembling, you sucked in a breath and tried the first family room door. 

Empty. 

A rush of adrenaline came over you then. Did he leave while you were in the ladies’ room? Was he actually in the men’s room? 

Trying the next door over, you blew out the ball of anxiousness in your throat while twisting the knob. 

Locked. 

It was a sign. 

Just go. Just give up. 

There was a family or another couple or just someone else entirely in there and you were just wasting your time like a fool. 

Sighing, you prepared to head back to the VIP area. 

Only to hear a door opening and see Taehyung’s expression change from surprise to something very, very dark. 

He didn’t tease you. He didn’t say anything snarky. In fact, he didn’t say anything. 

All he did was let you inside and stared at your heaving chest until the bathroom door closed shut. 

The sound echoed through the dim space, ricocheting off the walls and bouncing off both of your tense bodies. Your eyes roamed over everything, drinking in the way Taehyung’s hair draped over his eyes, the way his chains bobbed with each breath, the way his shirt was slightly disheveled and hanging by a few annoying buttons. Electricity seemed to coalesce between the two of you, magnetizing and sparking with each passing, grueling second. 

What was he waiting for? What were those emotions you could see swirling in his eyes? Was he second-guessing himself and you were going to be kicked out with the worst case of rejection ever? 

Should you just leave now to save you from that incredible embarrassment?

When you didn’t say anything, Taehyung finally spoke. 

“You shouldn’t have come in here.” 

And that was the last thing you registered before you were roughly and deliciously shoved right against the bathroom door.  

-

-

part 4 spoiler: “we’re not in a goddamned car anymore. i wanna hear you.” 

a/n: thank you so so much for reading and i apologize for the late update. life has been kicking my ass lately and there have been collabs i needed to work on. next chapter should not take as long! as always, any comments or dms or critiques are welcomed if you wanna hit up my inbox! taglist is also still open, too.

The rest of the drive came and went. 

Yoongi conversed with you until his chin settled into his chest and his eyelids drooped. He surprised you, truthfully. Everyone in the second row was already sleeping. 

As much as you wanted to chase slumber before a full festival day, too, you couldn’t - adrenaline kept any hint of sleep away from your body. 

Left alone, the only sounds you heard before plugging in your earphones were bits of conversation between your brother and Taehyung in the front. The muffled atmosphere didn’t allow you to hear too much of what they were saying, but you weren’t too concerned. 

You were too busy boring holes into your traitor’s defined shoulders. 

Despite the lingering feeling that the man wasn’t exactly done with whatever was blooming between the both of you, you still felt cheated - unfinished business tended to have that effect. But it wasn’t just unfulfillment that haunted your mind; another part of you felt the need to insert the worst case scenario possible. 

He was just messing with you. 

One and done.

It was nothing. 

On the contrary, Taehyung’s actions earlier seemed to tell you otherwise. If it was nothing, would he have pushed your hand back up your leg? Would he have tugged your wrist to place your fingers on his dick? 

Why the hell were you even thinking it could continue in the first place? 

It was wrong. Everything about the situation was being documented onto whatever Sins Log you had in the offices of Hell, soon to be freshly printed for when you entered the premises.

In the front, you heard your brother’s laugh quickly followed by Taehyung’s deeper chuckle. When you refocused your vision, you noticed that the subject of their laughter was you. 

You ripped out one earphone in annoyance. “What?”

“Did the back of Jimin’s head do anything to you? You looked pissed,” Seokjin asked, prompting more chuckles from Mr. I Ain’t Shit. 

You scoffed before throwing a retort over the second row, “Just focus on getting us to the hotel, idiot. You’re horrible with directions.” 

“Yah, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of this car!” 

“Do it! I’ll still get there before your dumbass!” 

Taehyung threw his head back in a full laugh. While you tried to suppress your smile and fluttering heartbeat in the back, Seokjin swatted and berated him for taking his eyes off the road. 

You had to redirect your gaze out the window because you still weren’t over the deep, sweet timbre coming from the driver’s seat. Biting your lip, you held back any sounds from your own throat, reminding yourself what the guy did to you at the gas station. Just because his laugh was enough to make you melt didn’t mean he was off the hook. 

A feeling that you were being watched pricked your skin, so you shifted your eyes to the front. 

And sucked in a breath when you saw Taehyung’s gaze in the rearview mirror, eyes crinkled just a bit before he pulled them away. 

It wasn’t the outright happy type of glow. It wasn’t a heavy look like the one he gave you after Yoongi took the backseat. 

If you were a betting person, you would say it was just to wordlessly, discreetly, purely flirt with you.

But gambling was never in your favor. 

So you just folded and doubted everything again.

After you all arrived at whatever ritzy hotel Hoseok reserved for your group - one that everyone except a still-sleepy Yoongi gawked at - it was a quick dismount before you all waited in the lobby for your room keys.

Since it was festival season, the line was annoyingly long. A quick game of rock-paper-scissors determined that you would be the one to wait in the queue - because of course that was how your life was going. With a head tilt of defeat, you lugged your pathetic self to the back and settled next to a bronze statue that looked way too happy to see you.

With nowhere else to go, your mind wandered.  

Thinking through everything that happened on the way there, from the accident to Taehyung just up and leaving to his flirtatious glance, you still felt weird and confused beyond words. 

Truthfully, it seemed like the two of you were seconds away from devouring each other no matter who was in the vehicle. But now, your thoughts seemed to run in every single direction while arriving at the same destination: it was nothing. 

And why would it be anything but nothing? You were a pretty lowkey person despite your feisty streak and Taehyung was… Well, not that. 

He was a flirt. A player. Anyone that took one look at him would figure that from the start. It was completely possible that what happened was because he was bored at the time, and you presented him with an activity. If your friend Nila had come along and the accident happened with her, he probably would have done the exact same thing.

You were sinking further and further into your own depths. Buzzing with a subtle rage that wouldn’t leave your bones, you immediately darted your eyes Taehyung’s way. 

Your glance uncovered nothing but him lightly conversing with the guys. It seemed like he was completely fine under his mask and comfortable fit; nothing had changed in his demeanor at all. His arms were still just as defined as they were before, his chest was still filling out the white shirt like before, his pants hugged his hips just like before… 

No one could tell he had his hand up his friend’s sister’s skirt a mere hour beforehand. 

On the flip side, you wondered how you yourself were holding up. Never mind what they thought of Taehyung. Could people tell you weren’t exactly all there?

Would they be able to smell the lingering arousal between your legs if they got too close? 

Did Yoongi already know?

The risk levels were already through the damn roof. Your nerves were getting the best of you and it was all his fault. 

You wanted to light Taehyung’s phone up, but you had to keep yourself in check. After all, the possibility of someone else seeing your name come up on his screen was too high, even if he did guard the device like it was his Achilles’ Heel. Jimin practically lived on him.

While you moved up a place in line, you planned what you were going to text him once you got to your rooms. You were hoping that your brother had a heart and got you a room to yourself. 

Sparing one more glance everyone’s way, you watched Jimin make some grand gesture and Taehyung shooting him a mirthy expression. Butterflies burst from your chest before they were singed by your fiery gaze. 

You had to remember: he was Enemy Number One. 

That time, he seemed to know you were looking: right before you could turn away, his eyes locked right onto yours. 

And he winked. 

If you weren’t told to move forward in line, you probably would’ve become a bronze statue yourself with how still you became. 

The queue didn’t take as long as you thought, and it turned out that Seokjin was considerate enough: you were alone. 

All the boys gathered their bags and backpacks before you all made your way to the elevators. It seemed like the floor you were on was a long way up, so when you all filed into the tight space, anxiousness hit you tenfold. 

What the hell? Things were not looking good; your underwear was still thoroughly soaked. 

Why did that expensive ass hotel have such small elevators? There were people that needed some personal space for thousand dollar bags and possibly hiding their arousal, for crying out loud!

Hyper-aware of your proximity to everyone, you pressed yourself into a corner, positioning your luggage in front of your legs in a flimsy attempt to cover the consequences of your inexcusable actions. 

You had to calm the hell down. Emotions of all kinds swirled together inside your brain and created the worst mixed drink you’ve ever concocted. Even Yoongi would wince if he took a sip. 

Was Taehyung flirting just because? Was he bored? What was the wink for? 

Why did he leave you in the car only to proceed to stare you down? 

Everything had been a mistake and this whirlwind of doubt and insecurity was proof enough. Even if you technically didn’t get far, you still went way past the point of redemption. That moment would stick to you like gum under a cafeteria table, and it would get the same grossed out reaction if discovered. 

But that was all it was going to be, apparently: just a flighty experience after a mere accident. It was pretty obvious that Taehyung was just fooling around and had switched back to the friend that didn’t really speak to you. 

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. 

Taehyung did entertain you when they would all hang out back then. He wasn’t the one that included you the most - that would always go to Jimin - but he did spare you glances and smiles from time to time. Those small blips of connection were what amassed into your stupid crush in the first place. You took those crumbs of attention bit by bit. 

Who knew that they would lead you to a house full of candy - a place that promised no escape.

Squeezing your legs together, you gulped and tried to bury yourself into your phone, trying not to wince at the discomfort between your legs. 

Because not only were you still wet, but your cunt was still feeling the effects of not finishing. You thought you had felt the last waves of throbs settle when you sat next to Yoongi, but Taehyung’s stares caused pulses of want that reignited primal needs. 

You got some reprieve in the form of Yoongi’s low voice filling the box, and he wasn’t joking when he said you were already behind schedule. “Don’t lolligag. Hoseok said he’ll be sending a driver to pick us up soon.” 

While he spoke, you spared one more glance at the man across the space with his hands in his khakis, his eyes locked on nothing but the floor. 

Jimin lifted his head from the wall before asking, “When is ‘soon?’” 

Checking his watch, Yoongi droned, “Thirty minutes.” 

“That’s basically now!” 

“Can’t they just, like, wait down there until we’re ready?” 

You didn’t say anything, but you were just as annoyed. Thirty minutes was cutting it close for you, but you had already come to terms with the fact that you weren’t changing your outfit and wouldn’t adjust your makeup too much. How drab.

When the elevator doors opened, you pouted to yourself knowing that the see-through top and pasties you wanted to wear were out of the equation. The vintage tee you already had on was just going to have to do. 

Everyone filed out of the tight space, and you sighed under your breath thinking about how lame the trip was going to be. Messing around with Taehyung in the car threw a rose-colored filter over everything, but now that even that situation was scratched, everything just felt covered in a dull, ugly grey.

Things would’ve been so much better had Nila showed up! You would’ve had an excuse to traverse the festival in skimpy clothes that you wouldn’t wear out otherwise! There wouldn’t have been a brother or a particular friend of his in sight. 

And maybe you wouldn’t have brushed your ass across Taehyung’s arm, either, which led to one of the hottest moments in your life. But that was beside the point.

A hand skirted over your bicep and jolted you out of your thoughts, and you turned your head to see Taehyung walk past you before rounding a corner. 

Odd. Confusing. 

Those two words summed him up perfectly in your mind, except you would also throw in five cups of Rude and angrily stir until well-mixed. 

Your rooms were two turns away from the elevators. While they were in the same hallway, Seokjin’s room with Namjoon and Yoongi was next to yours, and the three youngest took the room across.

As soon as you opened your door, your eyes bugged out of their sockets. What greeted you also made the reactions and shouts in the hallway make sense.

The rooms were huge. 

Even though the plush queen bed was what drew your weary bones in first, you swept your eyes across the space to take in the opulent decor. 

A light-colored sofa and chair setup reminded you of that period piece movie you watched last week, and there was even a mini kitchen taking up one side of the room. Expensive was one way to describe the curtains lining the wide panel of windows spanning your back wall, and the table provided was clear, thick glass instead of standard wood. 

Everything seemed to regard you like they knew you couldn’t afford the room yourself. And they were collectively correct. 

You shut the door as softly as you could, as if you were a trespasser. In doing so, you finally noticed a double sliding door closet, both of the panels serving as full-length mirrors. 

As much as you wanted to microdose on the high-life you never experienced through acting like you booked the room, time was a villain yet again. 

You dumped your bags on the kitchen table and found an outlet to plug your phone into before fishing out the clothes you needed, huffing again when the see-through top found its way into your hand. The pasties you wanted to wear under it were tucked in an inside pocket, the black material mocking you from their snug resting place. 

Slipping off your shoes, you grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and changed, walking to the mirrored closet to give your low-maintenance outfit a once-over. 

Your ensemble wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but you had to admit that you still looked nice. It wasn’t like you were going to be the only one with a plain shirt and skirt on at the festival; you were mostly going to blend in. 

But you came that far… and the outfit you had planned was cute as hell...

You had time to put it on. Why not? Put it on, take a quick picture in the closet mirror, and change back. 

With a slight jolt of happiness, you gathered everything you wanted and changed into them temporarily, starting with the pasties and clear top. The jean shorts were next, and the platform shoes lying next to your hotel chair were going to slip over your socks. 

Checking your outfit in the mirror, you lamented over the fact that it wasn’t going to see the light of day. You looked damn amazing. Just one pic-- 

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you swerved your body around to spare it a glance. Strolling away from the mirrors, you swiped your platforms from the floor on your way to check whatever notification came up. While you were strapping them on, you almost tripped and fell while reading who you got a message from. 

Taehyung: Hey

What… 

The guy fooled around with you in a car full of people, abandoned you, proceeded to cast you looks but never spoke a word to your face, and he had the audacity to send a measly “Hey?” Hey? 

Instead of responding, you shot a death glare at your phone and hoped it beamed a Fuck You laser into his device. Checking to see if it worked and he was indeed disintegrated, you responded. 

You: What the hell, Taehyung?

Taehyung: What?

You: Seriously? You’re gonna make me spell it out?

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Why didn’t you see this coming? You had always seen him as a selfish, immature--

Taehyung: I’m gonna make you do a lot of things.

Everything went blank; your resolve crumbled in an instant. You hated how your legs suddenly clamped together, how your fresh underwear suddenly felt moist, how your heart hammered against your ribcage. 

No. 

You weren’t going to entertain this if you were just going to be left high and dry again.

With all the courage you could scrape together, you snipped together a curt reply. 

You: Can you be serious for once?

Taehyung: I’m dead serious.

You wanted to ask why he bailed in the car, but you knew that sounded so damn desperate. Borderline clingy. Even if your ego had been badgered, you couldn’t let this stupid man have that control, no matter how much you were drawn to him. Hell, you could still remember the feel of his clothed cock in your palm. 

So you decided to swerve into another lane entirely, reach for that feisty streak again. Cracking your neck and settling down onto the bed behind you, you asked a question. 

You: If you’re so serious, why’d you chicken out back there?

The prolonged silence that followed prompted you to puff in a small victory. You figured he was expecting something completely different - possibly what you were originally going to say. 

Taehyung: I never chicken out.

The smile that crept onto your face would make the cat in Wonderland proud. Triumph sizzled on your skin as you kept up the offensive. 

You: Seemed like it to me. Couldn’t handle it?

It was bold. It was petty. But screw Taehyung and screw wallowing in whatever dark place you were keeping yourself. Maybe through manufactured confidence in your words, you could actually build some that was real.

The silence that time was so long that you got up to get your stuff. You grabbed your toiletries and make-up bag, and hauled everything into the opulent bathroom. 

Even the bathroom looked like it cost more than your entire apartment. 

You were admiring the wide mirror and the marble tiles installed in the shower when you finally heard your phone buzz.

Taehyung: How about you cut the shit and let me make you come?

Taehyung: I know you almost came in the car. 

Fuck. 

Immediately, your insides squirmed. 

That was not what you were expecting in the slightest. 

But you had to stay resolute. Whatever game he was playing was not amusing. Taehyung wasn’t going to be the man that played you time after time, and you weren’t going to be the one to fall for it again and again. He already broke whatever little trust you had in him, and the situation was risky enough as it was already. 

You broke. 

You: I know you’re an asshole

You: You left me after that

Taehyung: You know why I had to.

Pausing, you let his words sink into your brain and smush your self-doubt. 

He didn’t say it explicitly, but you drew the conclusion. Frankly, you knew covering things up was the other possibility. He knew just as well as you did that what you did was inappropriate.

But your mind reeled until it found the worst possible conclusion and stuck to it like super glue. 

While that lifted a huge burden off your shoulders, you still had a feeling that you needed to pull back. The situation you were in would only get worse as time went on, especially now that you weren’t hidden where no one could see you. 

Then again, you were in a room all to yourself. 

No one would possibly know that you’re having that conversation unless they checked his phone.

Taehyung: And we both know what you need now.

Shit. 

He was right, but you and the throbbing between your legs weren’t going to admit that. 

You: I don’t need to

Separation was key. If you didn’t look at your phone, it was like he didn’t even exist.

After you tossed your device back onto the table, you bent down to finally strap your shoes on. They were on in a snap, and you made your way back into the bathroom to get ready. You didn’t have that much time left even with the low-maintenance look.

Again, your phone buzzed, and you hated how you got flutters in your chest despite your conscience screaming at you to ignore him. You scooped your phone and charger to bring them to the bathroom and plug in there. 

He didn’t even give you time to lay out your materials before pinging you again.

Taehyung: I felt your pussy. Yes you do.

Your legs clapped together on instinct, and you hated how you felt heat run across your limbs and collarbones. Breathing came to you a bit harder for a minute and a half. 

People weren’t usually so forward, but you knew who you were dealing with. Not that you had a lot of experience with others - there were many flings but not an obscene amount. And all of them were mediocre at best, if you were brutally honest with yourself. 

Come to think of it, the absence of fulfillment was probably what made the situation so irresistible. Taehyung was already digging his fingers into your skin again and it was much, much too hard to keep fighting. 

At least you already had an excuse crafted for you. You were scraping for anything at this point to get yourself out of this increasingly deeper hole to Hell.

You: I have to get ready… 

Checking your expression in the mirror, you immediately released your teeth from your bottom lip and scowled at how affected you already were. So many aspects of this conversation were so wrong, and yet you couldn’t do anything but think about what Taehyung had in store for you next. 

Now that he pretty much confessed that he did it to cover your asses, you found yourself gravitating back into his pull. The steely resolve you had before could be broken with a mere flick of his bony wrist. 

You were at war with yourself, hoping that he would simultaneously drop the conversation and continue it. 

Three steps into your routine, you got what you wanted and didn’t want. 

Taehyung: Do what I say. It won’t take us long.

Us. 

Though the heavy pulsing of your walls had subsided, the effect of coming so close to finishing but stopping had lingered, only to increase in want since the man started texting you. The throbbing turned into pulsing, and you winced at how much you needed what he was giving. 

Convincing yourself to surrender - not that you needed another nudge - your reasoning was solely because you desperately wanted the release. It was starting to hurt, bordering on discomfort. 

Though your body wracked with need, your text was as flat as possible. 

You: Fine

He wasn’t going to get more from you. You were establishing a persona that wouldn’t fully give into his charm, his devilishly handsome features… 

Taehyung: 1 Audio Message

His… Audio messages?

That couldn’t be good. 

That wasn’t going to be good for you in the slightest. 

With shaky fingers, you turned the volume on your phone way down despite being alone in your room. Whatever was waiting for you in that file was definitely not one to blast through the thin walls and into your brother’s room right next door. You could already hear the steady rhythm of whatever disco pop they were playing in theirs. 

Pressing play, you held the phone’s speaker to your ear, gripping the bathroom counter until your knuckles ached when you heard what came through: 

“Get on the bed and spread your legs for me.” 

You shuddered out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before shutting your eyes tight. 

Okay. Forget everything else that happened before - this was now the Point of No Return. 

The downright dirty words he explicitly spoke to you, without any damn accident happening beforehand. This was where your admission into Hell was solidified and only needed your signature in the form of compliance. 

Taehyung whispered the message in the lowest register he could, but that didn’t stop his smooth baritone from spiking your blood pressure. 

He had to have been in the bathroom, or he was just so brazen to do it out in the open. Truthfully, you could see either scenario happening, and both had your loins flaring with lust. 

How was this even happening? Did you happen to shift timelines and drop into one where Taehyung was suddenly into you? Your entire body couldn’t fathom what the hell was going on. Life was handing you a slice of cake with disillusion sprinkled on top, and it was nothing but a lie.

Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror again, you had to decide whether or not you were doing this because of the time crunch. 

The only thing teetering your morals into the dark side was the fact that it was Taehyung. The man you’ve had a crush on for years, the flirt that you thought remained leagues above your own. And, frankly… 

It felt good.

Should it matter that there were people that would go apeshit if they knew this was happening on the other side of the wall? Definitely. And should it also matter if this caused an even bigger rift in your relationship with Taehyung down the line? Of course.

And yet, you wanted nothing more than to let him be the one to make you come. 

Exiting the bathroom to sit on your bed, you shot a quick text to let him know you did so, choking on air when his reply came through.

Taehyung: Show me

Chills zoomed up your arms through your fingertips. He wanted a picture? Damn it, you weren’t even supposed to be wearing what you had on! Why did you decide to entertain yourself with the outfit you wanted to wear in the first place? 

Bending your neck to check yourself, you were already so self-conscious about taking a picture of your current state. The pasties were the only thing you had on beneath the see-through shirt. 

Shit. There wasn’t any other proof you could have given him, and if you prolonged this exchange then you wouldn’t reach climax before someone came knocking on your door. 

That asshole knew it, too! 

Closing your eyes, you decided to just go for it and deal with whatever reaction - or non-reaction - you were going to get. 

You: You better delete it right after

Taehyung: Promise(: 

Dick. You were going to hold him to that promise, alright. 

You: 1 Attachment 

Right after sending the picture, you flopped back onto the bed, your ability to hold yourself up crumbling by the second. 

What was wrong with you? You didn’t even have enough time to doll yourself up properly and yet you were letting that guy eat away at your time. Were you that desperate? 

As soon as your phone buzzed, a skipped heartbeat was your answer. 

Taehyung: Oh fuck 

And the next jump of your pulse told you that you were in deep shit. 

Taehyung: 1 Audio Message 

Taehyung: 1 Audio Message

That man was going to be the death of you. You could see the headlines already: “Girl Slowly Passes from Audio Messages She Received in Hotel Room.” 

Your hands were trembling by the time you brought your phone to your ear. 

“So hot.” 

A mix of pride and doubt hit you square in the chest. There was no way he thought that about you, right? But there wasn’t a shred of joking or funny business in his tone, so maybe, just maybe… 

You wanted to believe it, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to truly take it seriously. A hand slapped over your forehead, and you had to regulate your breathing in preparation for message number two. 

“Now spread that tight pussy and pretend those are my fingers inside.” 

The smallest of moans left your throat before you covered your mouth. 

What the hell were you both doing! Everything in your brain was firing exit signs to your muscles, but they weren’t listening at all. In fact, your body was reacting the complete opposite in the way your hand unbuttoned your shorts and dove inside your underwear - the second pair that Taehyung was responsible for ruining.

Another moan left your lips when you slid your fingers along your sex, your walls responding instantly on the first touch and hugging them like they were starved. 

In a way, they were. Starved from a dry spell and yearning for the feel of his deft digits again. You needed to get laid. You wanted to get laid by him.

Not that it would ever happen. 

This was all you could do.

It didn’t take long for the slick to build, and soon you were pleasuring yourself the way you wanted Taehyung to.

In your daze, you decided to give him proof he didn’t ask for, praying to anything that he was smart enough not to play it too loud. While one hand was curling up into your sex like you imagined he would, the other held the phone to your gaping mouth, and you gasped into the receiver as softly as you could muster. 

You: 1 Audio Message

Your fingers knew exactly what you wanted, having done this many, many times. But it just wasn’t the same now that you knew how Taehyung’s long and experienced digits felt. He didn’t even need to go under your underwear to make you see stars, and imagining that actually happening made you pump faster. Jolts of pleasure caused your nipples to pebble, and you dug your shoes onto the edge of the mattress to push your pelvis upward in want. 

You were getting closer to your release when he responded with another audio, and you listened immediately. 

“Say my name.” 

“Fuck,” you whined as you added another finger into your pussy, squeezing your eyes shut before complying faster than you should have. 

Holding the speaker to your lips, you moaned as quietly as you could,

“Taehyung…”

The stretch was good, but not nearly enough. 

Remembering the feel of his dick in your hand, you tried to imagine it wonderfully stretching you out instead, giving you the most beautiful ache between your trembling legs. 

You shouldn’t ever think about the things you were visualizing. But you also shouldn’t have let him grope you in the back of an occupied SUV so what even were morals at that point?

Another audio came through quicker than the first time, and you had to clamp your lips and legs together when you heard the scrape of gravelly lust in his tone.

“Louder.”

If he was physically in the room, you would have come right then and there. You were absolutely sure of that. 

Your desire left your mouth in puffs as you placed your phone between your breasts, swirling your fingers around your slick lips and playing with your clit to the thought of him. Lost in your desire, your body writhed on its own accord, your mind supplying image after image of Taehyung leaning over you, hands planted on the bed and his eyes just watching you finger fuck yourself. 

Holding the speaker to your lips, you breathlessly obeyed, but with an ask of your own, 

“Taehyung… Wanna see you.” 

Your message meant a lot more than a goddamned photo, and you knew that he knew that, too. 

It felt like a century had passed before you got a response, which caused you to gasp and swipe up your phone faster than light. 

Taehyung: 1 Attachment 

Taehyung: I’m here

When you opened the thread, you swore your jaw unhinged from your face entirely and tumbled onto your comforter. 

It took less than thirty minutes for him to transform into a demon working overtime?

“What the fuck,” you whispered, drawing out the last syllable into a groan as you pumped your fingers faster, bucking your hips in want and frustration. Why did he have to torture you? Why did the universe decide to dangle him in front of you like it knew exactly what you wanted but could never have? 

This was farther than you had ever thought you would go, though. 

All because of an accident. 

What he wanted was for you to come, and you were pretty damn close. Thinking about him bent over you was almost enough, the thought of his hand thrust under your shorts and his fingers fucking you was driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Did he want proof again? Or were you just willing to provide any of it at this point? 

You: 1 Audio Message 

You had no idea how Taehyung was going to respond to your hitched breaths, your suppressed moans, your warning that you were close. But you knew that the delicious white hot of release was fast approaching, and your arousal-coated fingers were being squeezed by your fluttering walls at an alarming rate. 

Moments passed, but your phone was dead silent. No vibrations skittered between your breasts, which left you to your own devices. You didn’t know if he was going to tell you to come or if he was one of those that was into edging or denying. 

You wouldn’t put that past him. 

The thought alone was enough to send you flying.

There wasn’t any way you could wait for him anymore. Thinking about everything that he had already sent you was fueling your desire.

You thought of what he would say, what he would do, what his face would look like as he watched you squirm and come undone under him. 

Would he praise you? Degrade you? Would he call you by your name, or a nickname? 

Would he torture you and keep going, riding through your orgasm and force you into another with the biggest, punchable expression on his face? 

It was that last thought that caused the flames of your lust to turn a bright white until they consumed you. 

Your orgasm hit hard, the pent up sexual frustration from earlier turning it into another beast entirely. Swells of want and rage and utter incompleteness rolled over your muscles as they constricted. You had to cup your mouth with your free hand as your hips bucked up from the bed, muffled groans of Taehyung’s name erupting like hot lava from your caged lips. In your mind, he was smiling down at you, laughing at how dirty you were for him already. 

Whether he actually thought that or not, you knew it was very, very correct. As you came down from the waves of your high, you exhaled heavy breaths toward the ceiling, wondering what the hell you just did. 

Suddenly, pounding knocks on your door caused every single limb in your body to lock. Seokjin’s voice was as clear as the heavy hotel door allowed it to be as he yelled, 

“Hey, we’re all ready to go! You almost done?” 

Fuck.

Fuck! 

You weren’t ready. Not even close. Hell, you were still wearing what you didn’t want to wear! 

Scrambling to your feet, a quick sheen of cold sweat washed over your face as you hollered toward the door, hoping that your voice came out level, “Don’t - Don’t rush me! I’m almost ready so fuck off!” 

“Seriously? You better be out in two minutes or we’re leaving you!” 

God, he was insufferable. But you absolutely couldn’t pin any blame on him. All the blame was going to be shoved onto the devil in the room across from yours. 

Damn Taehyung! Did he do this to mess with you again? You hated yourself for getting into yet another situation because of him. The second you got to be alone with him, you were going to wring his stupidly handsome neck! 

Rushing to the bathroom, you cursed at your disheveled hair, fixing it to the best of your ability before throwing on a fresh layer of lipstick. You popped out and stuck your hand onto your doorknob before seeing yourself in the mirror, pasties-covered tits showing and all. 

“Shit,” you squeaked before running to your luggage, changing shirts with your adrenaline at an all-time peak. The vintage tee slipped on and you swiped your bag before you made a beeline for the door again. 

Your heart was thundering inside your chest from your orgasm and adrenaline cocktail. You had to breathe. If you looked fucked-out, that would turn out horrifically for everyone. Checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you fixed your hair and took a couple deep breaths. 

Placing your hand on the knob again, you closed your eyes and whooshed out your spastic energy. 

Throwing your door open harder than you wanted to, you came face-to-face with Seokjin and his friends. 

All of them stopped their conversation to give you a look, but it was your brother that spoke before you could pass away from seeing Taehyung’s appearance up close, 

“Finally! I’m not kidding. We’re leaving you next time!” 

Everyone’s long legs turned to start walking down the hall, and your chest heaved as you lagged behind. Your hazy state of mind only allowed your legs to run on autopilot, but the chilly air of the hotel hit your body and reminded you of two things. 

One, you didn’t put on a bra under your shirt, so only the stick-ons remained. 

Two, you didn’t fucking change out of the second pair of underwear that Taehyung indirectly soaked. 

You closed your eyes in shame. What the hell were you even doing? What a damned disaster. 

As you shook your head, you looked up only to see Taehyung at the back of the group. He turned around to shoot you a look, putting a quieting finger over his smirk before straightening forward again. 

Oh. 

There was now one singular goal next to cheering Hoseok on at the festival. 

You were on a warpath for revenge. 

Fuck Kim Taehyung.

-

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part 3 spoiler: “you don’t wanna do this” (i know i fucked up lol this was supposed to be the spoiler for HY2 but then i broke it up into two parts, so it will come in the next part) 

a/n: thank you so so much for reading! any comments/dms/critiques are welcomed! taglist is also open still :D also.. the next chapter is where the ride takes off and doesn’t stop LMAO