#hy2

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