#ohts

‣ Chapter 1

‣ Chapter 2

‣ Chapter 3

‣ Final Chapter

‣ Epilogue (Jimin x Reader)

You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub. 

“Are you cold?” 

Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present. 

“I’m okay,” you mumble. 

Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t. 

“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.” 

You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers. 

The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you. 

No. You are not going to think about that. 

It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer. 

Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours. 

“Hey, jagi.” 

Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.

Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement. 

“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.” 

How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships. 

You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung. 

“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.  

“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this. 

The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”

“Why do you even think I would tell you?” 

Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple. 

“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”  

You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin. 

“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.” 

Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand. 

All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated. 

“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation. 

“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead. 

“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.” 

You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell. 

“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out. 

It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend. 

It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too. 

“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded. 

“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless. 

“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.” 

You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.” 

Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence. 

“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.” 

You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.

Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway. 

Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt. 

“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch. 

“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute. 

“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.” 

Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you. 

You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you. 

Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly. 

“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”

“I am not!” 

Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs. 

Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you. 

“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy. 

“I want you.” 

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair. 

A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder. 

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–” 

“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?” 

It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can. 

None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared. 

Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.

“Can I just say something first?” 

His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well. 

“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.” 

Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it? 

“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to. 

“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously. 

Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.

In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck. 

Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them. 

“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.” 

“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay. 

You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you. 

You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso. 

“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you. 

“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper. 

Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple. 

“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks. 

His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action. 

You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone. 

“Jimin,” you whimper. 

His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”

You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you. 

“So pretty…” 

You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you. 

“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy. 

“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down. 

“I will, I will.”

Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you. 

Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.

You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky. 

You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust. 

“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.” 

You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse. 

“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy. 

It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate. 

You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before. 

“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.” 

Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak. 

“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.” 

“Look at me.” 

And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.

You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile. 

“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.” 

“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you. 

“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.” 

Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well. 

There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can. 

“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.” 

“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair. 

Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring. 

Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won. 

When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held. 

“How are you doing?” 

You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something. 

“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin. 

“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.” 

“Good?”

You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.” 

Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into. 

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations! After thorough consideration, we are thrilled to offer you admission to the Honors College of… 

You read the acceptance letter on your phone and again when it arrived in the mail, snatching up the large envelope with the university’s crest printed on it from your mother’s prying eyes. 

At this time last year, the mere thought of transferring to a new college would have seemed intimidating and impossible. Now, though? Now the thought of moving to the other side of the country to finish your next two years of college was so intoxicating that you could barely contain yourself. You eventually told your parents, knowing their response without needing to touch on the topic. But you were a good, dutiful daughter. You played by the rules, even when you were still breaking them. It was a delicate balance. 

They still refused to help you move into your new dorm, no matter how you framed the situation. You were ruining their perfect plans. Sure, they wouldn’t cut you off financially, but they wouldn’t help you get to where you wanted (no, needed) to be. It was all on you. 

But that was fine. There was nothing for you in your sleepy hometown, anyway. Your parents cared for you too little, your friends were fake, Namjoon wasn’t in the picture to stop you from being independent, and Taehyung was… Well, Taehyung was Taehyung. At some point, you burned down quite literally every bridge in your life, stripped every relationship of whatever flimsy glue has been left holding it together. It would be easy to blame Taehyung. He’d been the catalyst, after all. But something deep down told you that this was bound to happen, with or without Kim Taehyung. 

You sat on your bed and scrolled through your Instagram friends. If you were going to skip town, it was time for a purge. You were going to unfollow every single stupid person you’d forced a friendship with simply because your parents knew each other or your families went to the same country club or you met them at piano lessons. Fuck that superficial shit. You were done. No more tea parties and white dresses and sticking noses up at people who didn’t have a stick up their asses. You didn’t care if they realized you’d cut them off your socials. 

As Taehyung told you, no more giving a shit about what other people wanted. 

It seemed so silly, archiving Instagram posts and unfollowing people. As if that was really what mattered in life. But it felt good, regardless. You gleefully scrolled through the list, every tap of the unfollow button like scissors through strings of fate. 

The glee quickly died when you were suddenly bombarded with text messages from the man whose red string of fate was too tangled with yours.

You threw your phone across your bed and watched it skid to a stop right on the edge of the mattress. It teetered for a moment before plummeting to the floor. You didn’t bother to pick it up. 

Your attempt at being straightforward and having a no-nonsense attitude with Taehyung worked. It was difficult to be so plain in your responses; not sending an exclamation point or a smiley face made you feel like you were being a total bitch. Especially since you were essentially rejecting him. An hour passed since Taehyung read your message and he still hadn’t responded. To be fair, you had told him to shut up. So technically he was doing exactly what you supposedly wanted. 

Except you didn’t want him to shut up. 

Unless you were the one shutting him up. With your mouth. Or your pussy. 

The thought made you flush with heat straight to your face. And perhaps to other places, too. But you had to stay strong. You couldn’t fall into the traps of Kim Taehyung. 

Curling up with your pillow, you cradled yourself into a fetal position. 

The last time you’d seen him was almost a month ago. You could stay strong. You could stay away from him. You knew you could. And soon you would be so far away that Kim Taehyung wouldn’t even exist anymore.

Caffeine and anxiety made your freshly manicured nails drum against the reclaimed wood table you sat at, perched on the edge of your seat. The bakery had very few customers in it, much to your good fortune. The fewer people to possibly get into your business, the better. Perhaps you should have asked Namjoon to meet you somewhere more private; then again, did you want to be somewhere private with him? You weren’t quite sure. 

His large frame approached you with hunched shoulders and eyes rimmed red. Rather than his usual fashionable outfit, Namjoon wore a plain hoodie and sweatpants. His large-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, likely because his constant crying prevented him from wearing contacts. The feeling of your nails digging into the inside of your palms was unpleasant, but it was better than the possible sting of tears. 

Focus. Focus on your breathing, on the tinkling of cafe music floating down from the ceiling, on avoiding that sticky spot on the table your elbow kept touching. 

Don’t focus on the fact that Namjoon’s promise ring was still snug on his finger, whereas yours was thrown in the back of your dresser drawer at home. 

“Jagi- …. Y/N…” Namjoon stood at your table, eyes cast downward. Your throat conveniently closed in on itself. 

With a drawn-out sigh, Namjoon pulled out the seat opposite of you. Its metal legs dragged against the tile floor, making a screeching sound that echoed through the quiet bakery. You would have taken that ear-splitting sound ricocheting in your skull for eternity over having to stare into the look he gave you. 

“Hi.” 

The longer you looked into his puffy eyes, the hotter you felt your face burn. Your stomach was twisting and churning; you’d spent a good twenty minutes in the bathroom before Namjoon showed up simply because you weren’t sure your body could function. 

Your first instinct was to ask him how he was doing, but you left your mouth hanging open when you realized the nicety wouldn’t take you very far. It would likely start the conversation off badly. And you desperately needed this to go well. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you chose to say instead. It reasserted that there was a reason for why the two of you were meeting, but it was void of any emotion aside from gratefulness. Not that you felt very grateful about anything at this point; maybe that was your flaw. Y/N, the spoiled brat. 

“How could you throw away so many years of our relationship like that, Y/N?” Namjoon dove straight to the point. He gripped the edges of the table and leaned forward. Looking into his eyes felt like staring into the sun; it was all blinding, painful heat. 

“But it was years of something bad, Joon.” 

“How was it bad? We were perfect.” 

You flinched at the loaded word, leaning a bit back in your seat. The sudden distance only made Namjoon push his defense further. 

“You wasted my time.” The hateful way Namjoon spat the accusation didn’t match the tired, weak look in his eyes. “We put so much effort into this, for nothing.” 

His words stung more than you expected, even when you’d prepared yourself all morning to anticipate that Namjoon might say hurtful things. He often did when he was angry, and this was the angriest you’d ever seen him - at least, with you. So when the glare didn’t let up and he kept invading your space across the table, you really couldn’t blame yourself for cowering. You weren’t used to anyone talking to you like this. 

“That’s hurtful,” you spoke with quivering lips. “What about love, Joonie? Don’t you love me? Was the effort all you care about?” Was it possible to be strong and stand up for yourself while also feeling terrified and weak? Were you weak for reacting like this? 

“Oh,” Namjoon scoffed, his eyes trailing off to look somewhere to the side of you. “You think that’s hurtful? But you won’t address the fact that you’ve broken up with me over a lie Kim Taehyung has fed you. If you loved me, you wouldn’t act like this.” 

“You lied to me, Namjoon. This isn’t about Tae.” 

Namjoon’s head whipped back to look you squarely in the face, and it was then that you knew you’d fucked up.

“Tae?” He angrily repeated the nickname back at you. “So you have been talking to him more than just at the party.” 

Your mouth fell open and your fingers dug into the edge of the table. Your brain screamed at you to speak, but you couldn’t let out even a puff of air. 

“Were you sleeping with him?” Namjoon’s voice rose slightly. Although he wasn’t exactly loud, the bakery was too quiet. “Y/N, fucking answer me. Did you cheat on me?” 

Perhaps it wasn’t fair to Namjoon, but you couldn’t help the fury that bubbled up in your chest at his accusations. No matter how true they were, he had his nerve to deflect blame onto you, as if years of shitty boyfriend behavior didn’t matter. 

“Real typical of you to make this about yourself and turn this on me,” you hissed, unsure of where this boldness was coming from. Maybe Taehyung had rubbed off on you. Uncertainty still clouded your mind, though. You still shrank back in your seat despite your uptick of confidence showing through your voice. 

“You won’t even deny it!” Namjoon scoffed incredulously. 

“Taehyung has nothing to do with this!” 

At that moment, the little bell above the bakery’s front door rang to indicate that someone was entering the shop. The tinkling sound carried through the near-empty bakery. Out of instinct, you and Namjoon turned to glance at the door. 

“What the fuck?” Namjoon turned his attention back to you, but your eyes were still on the man who’d stepped through the door. 

Taehyung stood in the doorway wearing his usual brown leather jacket over a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. There were rips in each knee, but also a slit in the middle of his thigh that showed an inch or two of bare skin. You tried not to look at how form-fitting his clothes were, nor at the way his wavy hair fell unstyled into his eyes. 

He locked eyes with you, then shifted to Namjoon’s profile, before landing on you once again. He mouthed a “sorry” and jabbed at the front door with his thumb, indicating that he was going to leave. 

You wanted to kill him. 

“Did you invite him, too? Were you going to come clean together? Ask me for my fucking blessing?” 

“No,” you said in a firm but hushed tone. The bell rang again and Taehyung was gone. 

Namjoon scooted back in his chair, fully preparing to leave. Fear shot through your heart at the possibility that he might go after Taehyung. But why did you even care? It wouldn’t be the first time the two had fought. 

You scooted back in your chair as well, determined to be the first to leave.

“Our problems began the moment we started dating, Namjoon. And that’s the truth.” You rose to your feet, wrapping your arms around your body. “You never treated me like an individual. You treated me like a project.” 

Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, but you simply shook your head. You gathered your half-finished vanilla latte to throw away. It would only upset your stomach even more if you took it with you. 

“I also came here to tell you that I’m transferring to another university. In California.” Initially, you didn’t know why you felt the need to tell him, but the crumpled look on his face when he digested your statement gave you the satisfaction you didn’t know you needed. “Goodbye, Namjoon.” 

You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead as the bell above the bakery’s door tinkled behind you, refusing to give Namjoon the satisfaction of knowing that you looked back at him, that you lingered. Instead, you scanned the parking lot for an all-black sports car with windows so tinted it was difficult to see the man waiting in the driver’s seat, drumming his long fingers against the steering wheel. Sliding in the passenger seat, you slammed the door shut and continued to keep your eyes straight ahead. 

“I’m guessing from the way you’re doing that cute little pout that it didn’t go well.” 

“Can you please just drive?” 

It was a silent drive to Taehyung’s apartment, save for your sniffling as hot tears streamed down your face. You pressed the sleeves of your cardigan into your eyes, against your cheeks, over your nose. You did your best to collect the mess you were making of yourself, to not lose it yet again in front of Taehyung. People crying made him uncomfortable which was why you were shocked when he reached over to place his hand on your thigh. 

Unlike in the past, the gesture wasn’t sexual. His hand was simply a warm reminder that you weren’t alone. His fingers stretched out to grip your thigh for comfort, never once inching up too high. 

How could you rationalize going to Taehyung’s apartment? Or involving him in any of this business with Namjoon? You told yourself it was because you had no one else to turn to, no real friends who still lived at home. Sure, you had Jackie, but you felt like your relationship with her as co-workers would cross a weird line if you ran to her apartment to cry over your ex-boyfriend. 

Did it make any more sense that you were doing that with Taehyung, though? Especially after he had already made it very clear that there was no potential for the two of you to be exclusive?

Taehyung pulled into his apartment complex and your brain screamed at you to do something, anything, to get him to take you home instead. You could lock yourself in your room and easily ignore your parents. They never checked up on you unless they needed you, anyway. 

But do not go into Kim Taehyung’s apartment. 

“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmured, running his hand along your thigh in a soothing massage. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head and dried your tears. All you felt was a deep-rooted numbness that started in the middle of your chest, seeping into every crevice and limb. Brynn said sometimes with emotions there was nothing to do but ride the wave. 

You were going to ride the wave. 

Taehyung led you to his apartment, his fingers intertwined with yours to make sure you were keeping up. Nothing passed before your eyes as you stumbled behind him; you barely saw or heard anything but the back of Taehyung’s leather jacket and white noise flooding your ears. There was nothing else for you. 

Inside, Taehyung watched you stand frozen in the doorway for a few seconds too long before it eventually unnerved him. 

“Y/N, take your shoes off and come here,” he said in a strong voice, hoping to cut through whatever was going on in your head. 

With a sigh, you kicked your shoes off and dragged yourself towards Taehyung. You pressed your face against his broad chest and loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. Just as the night you’d broken up with Namjoon, you felt Taehyung tense beneath the hug, and it took him a moment to ease up. His hands found your waist and drew you flush against his body. 

“I hate that you’re the only person I can go to.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung’s hands tucked inside of your cardigan to find the hem of your shirt. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric, giving himself access to your bare waist. You shivered as he traced patterns into your skin with his fingertips. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

You tilted your head back to look at his face, admiring his muscular neck and sharp jawline. In the past couple of months when the two of you hadn’t spent much time together, Taehyung had changed. His lanky body had filled in more, seemingly more muscular. He also lived alone; Jungkook moved in with his girlfriend. You found it interesting that Taehyung’s friends were beginning to settle down. You wondered if he was still fucking other people. 

Smoking with him was a really bad idea. 

“Sure.” 

You followed Taehyung to the living room, plopping down on his couch while you watched him grind up weed he plucked from a glass jar. The veins in his hands popped as he twisted the grinder and picked out the pieces he wanted. Those long fingers expertly rolled a joint with a rolling paper that had little cartoon grapes printed on it. You couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the last time you had those hands on you when Taehyung fingered you during your picnic at the local forest reserve. You remembered how secure you’d felt with your back leaned against his chest, your legs hooked around his so he could keep you spread open for him. The way you licked and sucked his fingers clean when he was done. 

“Here.” Taehyung’s deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You took the now lit joint from his fingers and brought it to your lips. “You still like the grape, right?” 

You nodded, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that made Taehyung’s figure waver in front of you. “I haven’t smoked with anyone else.” 

He nodded, taking the joint back from you. The two of you sat in relative silence, only murmuring comments about the weed or for you to get an update about Jungkook’s new place. It was nice to sit, to simply exist, and let the high lift your mood and have your body buzz. 

“You can do whatever you want now,” Taehyung commented, tapping the joint against an ashtray on the coffee table. “Go where you want, do what you want, see who you want.” 

“But not with you, right?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his bloodshot eyes with yours, instead choosing to inspect the glass jar of weed on the table. 

“You can do whatever you want with me, baby girl,” Taehyung countered. 

Whatever you wanted. With one condition. 

But why did you care? You would be gone. There was no longer time to do anything you wanted with him, even if he genuinely wanted you to. The opportunity was rubbish blown away in the wind. 

When you stole a glance at him, he had his head tilted back slightly and you watched his jaw muscles flex as he took a hit of the joint. It was finished, but all you could focus on was the way his lips parted to let a perfect swirl of smoke leave his mouth, only to be inhaled again, this time through his nose. His nose with the perfect little mole freckled right on the tip. Upon closer inspection, you realized he was wearing the same gold chain he wore in the shirtless photo he sent you. Once he put the joint out in the ashtray he carded his hand through his messy locks, the wavy strands softly falling back against his forehead. 

God, he was so fucking hot. 

“Got something you want to say?” Taehyung smirked, noticing the way you stared at him. Somehow, he always did. 

Yes, you wanted to say. More things than I possibly know how to express. 

You couldn’t tell if it was the weed making you misinterpret reality, but it seemed that Taehyung leaned closer to you on the couch. You continued to watch him with your lips parted and eyelids heavy. When he looked at you with those dark eyes tinged red from hitting that perfect high, fuck, you could melt in his hands. 

All of a sudden he was too close. Your knees bumped into each other and you swore you could feel the sensation vibrate up your leg and straight to your core. Inhaling sharply, you breathed in his cologne beneath the thick smell of weed; oak, and spice. Your brain moved in slow motion as Taehyung’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over the apple of your cheek. The feeling of his skin on yours shot ripples of warm electricity through your veins, snaking through every part of your body. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his touch when Taehyung pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss started slow, almost hesitant, like the two of you were remembering how your lips used to fit together. Taehyung coaxed your mouth open and the feeling of his tongue rolling against yours made you moan. He hummed in response, retreating slightly to suck on your bottom lip. 

Taehyung’s hands squeezed your hips and he pulled you towards him until he had you straddling his lap. His shoulders were firm under your hands when you slid forward to wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss became more fervent and sloppier, all twisting tongues and bitten lips. Your body was on autopilot as you started moving against him, Taehyung using his grip on your waist to grind you directly onto his semi-hard cock. The zipper of his jeans dragged against your clit through your pants; every touch had you gushing. 

“Tae…” 

You let out a small whimper as Taehyung’s mouth landed hot on your throat, sucking deep hickeys into your skin. He flicked his tongue against your skin as he sucked on you, just as he’d done with your clit the night of Jungkook’s party. Fuck, how you’d wished you had at least one more chance to feel his mouth hot and wet on your pussy. 

“We, we shouldn’t be doing this, Tae,” you attempted to protest as Taehyung pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. 

“Why not? You’re not with Namjoon anymore.” His hands slid around to unzip your jeans. Maybe you didn’t verbally answer him, but you shimmied out of your jeans and that was enough of a response for him. 

Taehyung’s shirt was next to go. You ran your hands down the ripples of his abdomen. His muscles were more defined and hard beneath your touch. Taehyung sighed in between kisses down into your cleavage. He used both hands to pull your bra down to allow your tits to spill out, still pushed together from the restrictive clothing. 

“Fuck, Tae,” you moaned, arching your back to press further against him as his tongue began flicking against your nipple. 

When his mouth closed around your nipple and he sucked you lightly, your hands flew to unbuckle his belt. Taehyung lifted his hips to pull his jeans and briefs down his thighs. You’d slept with Taehyung multiple times, but not enough for you to be accustomed to his size. With his cock erect and throbbing between your thighs, you tried to regulate your breathing as you anticipated having him inside of you. He guided you to move against him, rubbing your clothed pussy against his cock as you watched beads of precum drip from his head. You were scandalized by the way you were practically drooling at the thought, especially since you’d never ridden him before. 

“My wallet,” he said hoarsely, gesturing to the coffee table, and the feeling of his baritone voice rumbling against your chest had you weak in the knees. You twisted around to grab his wallet and watched with heat pooling at your core as Taehyung retrieved a condom to roll down his thick cock. 

“You ready?” Taehyung pulled your underwear to the side and ran his fingers through your dripping, swollen folds. “Fuck, you’re always so wet for me, jagiya. Shit…” 

He moaned at the same time you did as he slipped two fingers into you, your pussy easily sucking them in. Your legs shook as Taehyung fucked you with his fingers, eventually stretching you out with three to be sure you were ready to readjust to his cock after going so long without him. 

“Tae, please,” you begged, gripping the hair at the back of his head as the two of you locked eyes. 

“Miss me, baby girl?” Taehyung teased. 

You hated the way your heart fluttered when he spoke, or when you felt his arms wrap around your waist to pull you against him, your chests pressed against each other. Taehyung held your bloodshot gaze with his own, both of your eyes heavy from lust and being high. You could almost trick yourself into believing that the way he cradled your body in his hands was out of care. You could almost convince yourself that the heavy feeling in your chest was only weed, that Taehyung had no impact. That he didn’t matter. Almost. 

“Yes,” you admitted with a whimper, too high to attempt to lie. You lifted onto your knees to line his cock with your entrance. The descent was slow and careful; you weren’t eager to have him slamming into your cervix if you could avoid it. 

“Mmmm, that’s it, jagi,” Taehyung moaned, his cock twitching inside of you once you finally sunk onto him, your ass flat against his thighs.“Fuck yourself on my cock.” 

“Y-yes, Tae.” 

With a tight grip on his shoulders, you rolled your hips back and forth, testing out that technique first. When you lifted until only his head was inside of you and then allowed yourself to drop down, your skin slapping against his, that was when you got the reaction you wanted. Taehyung threw his head back against the couch and dug his fingers deeper into your skin. 

“You remember who this pussy belongs to, baby girl?” 

“You, Taehyung.” With a small whimper, you nodded, stuttering through your response to him as you worked hard to match the movement of your hips to his thrusts. “Only you.”

“Good girl.”

You felt your chest swell with his praise, a small smile forming on your lips as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. Taehyung took over, planting his feet to the ground so he could thrust into you with more force. All you could do was gasp as he fucked into you, every thrust stimulating your walls and forcing your clit to brush against his abdomen. 

“Oh my god, baby, I’m gonna cum.” 

Taehyung picked up the pace, growling filthy words of encouragement as he guided you through your orgasm. You moaned his name until your throat became hoarse, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your thighs burning. 

However, your orgasmic high was short-lived. A loud bang against Taehyung’s front door caused both of you to startle. Taehyung protectively wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you stared at the door. You flinched when the banging continued, your eyes wide and locked with Taehyung’s. 

“Who is that?” you whispered, but you were met with a blank look. What had Taehyung been doing lately to have someone trying to smash his door in? 

“Open the fucking door, Taehyung!” 

Your stomach dropped to the floor when Namjoon’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. 

“Son of a bitch,” Taehyung growled. 

It was no surprise that hearing your ex-boyfriend’s voice made you spring into action. You shakily got up, your legs wobbling when you attempted to stand. You collapsed back onto the couch, fear etched into your face. 

“I swear to god, I’ll rip this fucking door off its hinges.” 

Taehyung peeled the condom off and pulled his jeans on, not bothering with a shirt. He was so fucking bold. You on the other hand were scrambling to throw your clothes on before Taehyung flung the front door open to come face to face with a very pissed-off Namjoon. 

You could practically see Namjoon’s brain putting all the pieces together when his gaze moved from Taehyung’s shirtless torso and the tight crotch of his jeans to the hickeys along your throat and collarbones. You wondered if, as he stormed down the hallway of Taehyung’s apartment complex, he heard you screaming Taehyung’s name as you came. 

“You motherfucker.” 

The scream that ripped from your throat was uncontrollable as you saw Namjoon wind up to launch his fist at Taehyung’s face. Miraculously, Taehyung ducked in enough time to miss the hit.

“Are you really going to try this again? High school wasn’t enough for you, Joonie?” 

Taehyung took a step towards Namjoon, his broad shoulders squared up. To no one’s surprise, Namjoon didn’t back down. Instead, he grabbed a hold of Taehyung and shoved him backward, causing the other man to stumble. The sound of the back of Taehyung’s head hitting the wall echoed through the apartment. 

“Fuck you,” Namjoon spat, advancing on Taehyung with a fury blazing in his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about that anymore. I’m beyond that. This is different.” 

Taehyung may have been lankier than Namjoon, but he was quicker. You screamed again when you watched Taehyung’s fist smash into Namjoon’s jaw, flinging the man’s face sideways. 

“Different, yeah? What about it is different?” By the time Namjoon could collect himself, Taehyung’s fist was firing again, packing more effort than the first. “This time your mommy and daddy aren’t going to save you from the bullshit you brought on yourself?” 

By the third hit, a bit of blood trickled from Namjoon’s nose. He doubled over to wipe the back of his hand against his face, and that was when you made your move.  

“Taehyung, stop! Stop it!” 

You grabbed Taehyung’s arm to pull him back from letting his fist swing again. With Taehyung distracted, Namjoon wrapped his muscular arms around one of his legs and pulled him onto the ground. 

“I can’t believe,” Namjoon’s fist collided with Taehyung’s chest as the other man tried to wrestle free from Namjoon’s grasp, “You put your dirty fucking hands on my girlfriend.” 

“Should’ve seen how she was cumming all over these dirty fucking hands,” Taehyung spit back. 

You watched in horror as the two men continued fighting, spewing insults while their fists smashed into shoulders, cheeks, and chests. No amount of screaming was getting through to them. You could shout until your veins were popping out of your neck, but the only sounds the two were listening for were their heavy breathing and the sound of the other man breaking. 

It wasn’t until they’d wrestled into an end table and knocked a vase onto the floor that the two men stopped. Glass shards exploded everywhere. 

“Fucking stop fighting right now!” You reached out to grab a fistful of Namjoon’s t-shirt with one hand and Taehyung’s hair with the other. “I hate you! I hate you both! Namjoon, it’s over. Let it go.”

Namjoon attempted to sputter a response, but you let out another ear-piercing shriek of frustration. “I’m so fucking sick of both of you! Get over yourselves! No one wins in this. No one.” 

The two men sat on the floor for a moment longer, blinking in dazed confusion, as if they’d been ripped out of a dream. It seemed very clear to you what needed to be done, but they were too dumbfounded by your sudden aggressiveness and take-charge attitude to know what to do. 

“Get up!” 

Namjoon was the first to stand. He pushed back his bangs from his forehead and stared at you with a stern expression. He was still breathing hard and his t-shirt had a few tiny spots of blood on it. You assumed it was his own, but when Taheyung finally stood, you saw that his bottom lip was cut on one side, causing a bit of blood to trickle into the corner of his mouth. 

It was stupid. The whole thing was utterly stupid. You’d all reserved to being wild animals over something that didn’t matter. There was no love here. Namjoon didn’t fight for you because he was in love. No, he fought because his ego was hurt. He fought because he felt wounded and blindsided. And Taehyung fought because he reveled in the adrenaline rush and the possibility to put Namjoon in his place. 

They were both infuriating. 

“Don’t try crawling back to me when he fucks you over,” Namjoon snapped. He moved slowly, likely trying to disguise how hurt he was. You thought you saw a few scratches on his legs; perhaps they were from the broken vase. He snatched up his phone from where it’d fallen amongst the shards of glass. The front door slammed shut behind him with a force so strong it seemed to make the entire apartment shudder. 

You wanted to cry, but the weed wouldn’t let you. Just like your mouth, your eyes felt as dry as cotton. The only thing your body could do was churn up a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when you turned to look at Taehyung. His face was flushed pink beneath his honey tones. The beginnings of purple bruises were forming along his ribcage and the apple of his left cheek. Although Namjoon walked away more defeated, he packed a harder punch than Taehyung. Since Taehyung wasn’t wearing a shirt, it was easier to see the damage. Who knew what Namjoon would see when he got home and stripped away his sweaty, bloody clothes. 

“Why did you do that?” You took a step towards Taehyung, your body still tingling with adrenaline. “Why didn’t you just walk away?” 

Taehyung squinted his eyes. “Do you think he would have stopped?” 

You stood with pursed lips. Taehyung’s skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. You fought the urge to pull him close. 

No. Namjoon wouldn’t have stopped. 

Taehyung exhaled a dark laugh when you didn’t respond. Your silence was nothing new; he was just surprised that now you were being stubborn rather than shy.

“If you want to go back to being his property, by all means, go ahead. But don’t get mad at me for fucking defending you.” 

Blood pulsed fast and hot into your face and neck, heating your already charged nerves into a frenzy you weren’t in the right state of mind to control. With a glare, you took another step forward. Your head tilted to look Taehyung in the eyes and for once the dark eyes that stared back at you didn’t intimidate you. 

“Is that what you were doing? Defending me?” You tried to keep your voice from rising once again. “Or were you getting revenge just like when you fuck me?” 

Taehyung leaned down until the tip of his nose was mere inches away from yours. Despite your confidence, it was hard not to be unsettled by the emptiness in his eyes. Yet it was impossible to look away. 

“I fuck you because I want to, baby girl. Not for revenge.” His sneer sent shivers down your spine. He grabbed your waist and walked you backward until you felt your body bump into the wall. You gasped and placed your palms flat against Taehyung’s chest to push him away, but you hesitated. His heartbeat raced beneath your fingers. “And I fuck you because you deserve to be fucked how you want.”

You felt his nails drag down your hips until he reached the front of your jeans. Quick fingers unbuttoned and pushed them down your legs until you could step out of them when the fabric pooled at your ankles. 

“So tell me, jagiya.” Taehyung’s voice was alluring and deep when he whispered against your ear. He hooked his thumb beneath your underwear’s waistband and tugged. “How do you want it?” 

He was sweaty, bloody, and high on testosterone and adrenaline. And you? You were pissed beyond belief - pissed at Taehyung and Namjoon for being selfish, pissed at yourself for getting into this mess. But then you felt Taehyung’s thumb lightly caress your clit and your mind exploded with marijuana-induced, white-hot pleasure. Standing on your tiptoes, you hugged your arms around his neck rather than push him away. 

“Right here,” you whispered. “Like this.” 

The words barely left your lips before Taehyung was shoving his pants down far enough to release his cock. His velvety skin brushed you and you felt a bit of precum smear on you. Leaning down slightly, his large hands squeezed the back of your thighs. With his chest pressed against your chest and your back pressed against the wall, he effortlessly lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He’d never admit it if he missed you during the time you were apart, but the way his lips consumed yours and his hands tangled themselves in your shirt told a story on their own. 

“Wait,” you spoke through a moan as Taehyung began grinding his cock in between your swollen lips. He nudged the head of his cock against your clit and you felt like your heart was going to give out. “What about a condom?” 

“You’re on the pill now, right?” he inquired with a soft murmur against your throat. His lips were slightly chapped aside from the spit of your kiss, and you figured it was from the hits he took to the face. 

“Mhmm, but…” How could you say that you were worried about things other than pregnancy if you fucked him without it sounding bad?

“I tested recently. I’m good.” You felt the head of his cock almost slip into your entrance before Taehyung adjusted his position. “I’m not fucking anyone else, jagi. I haven’t in a while.” 

You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently guiding him to look you in the eyes. “Not even Angel?” 

He shook his head and your mind was too clouded by weed, adrenaline, anger, and lust to unpack what Taehyung said. All you could do was whimper your consent and relax your muscles as Taehyung sunk into you. The stretch was easier this time, though Taehyung was thick enough that you felt full. He pulled back to then ease himself into you again with such a deep thrust that you could feel the ridge of his head glide along your walls. The feeling was so sensual that you instinctually dragged your nails into his back. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking warm.” Taehyung moaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses lightly brushing against each other. You clenched around his cock when you saw his eyes flutter closed. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Can I go faster?” 

The baby hit you in the chest so hard you couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t baby girl. It was baby. It was baby spoken with such softness you felt like you were going to die. 

“I’m moving to California,” you blurted. 

Taehyung’s movements paused. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you were forced to open them when Taehyung unwrapped your legs from his body and pulled out of you so you stood in front of him. 

Narrowed eyes studied your face. “What?”

With a deep, slow inhale you tried to focus your fuzzy brain on ordering the correct words in the correct order while your cotton mouth threatened to trip you up. “I transferred to a new school. And I leave at the end of the month.” 

“What, so you’re here to get your last fuck before you dip?” Taehyung snorted, turning his head to the side as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

The accusation stung worse than Taehyung’s accusations the night of the party when he accused you of only wanting him because he was forbidden fruit, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks serving as a bit of entertainment until you went back to your perfect life. Your mouth fell open as you watched him tuck his cock, still hard and glistening with your arousal, back into his jeans to zip them up. You suddenly felt very exposed wearing only a t-shirt. 

“You brought me here! What are you talking about?” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and began walking down the hall. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” you hissed, only mildly shocked by the foreign tone of your voice. Taehyung must have been more surprised than you, though, for he stopped halfway to his bedroom and turned to look at you. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N?” 

For the second time that day, you wanted to kill him. 

You scooped up your underwear to at least slide that on before you were following the man to his room like he was some petulant teenager. “I already told you, Kim Taehyung. I told you what I wanted from you.” 

Although you’d closed the gap between the two of you, standing strong in the doorway of Taehyung’s bedroom while he stood near the foot of the bed, the coldness of his expression put you miles apart. You weren’t quite sure what desperation felt like; you’d always hoped you’d never feel it, particularly because of a boy. But the way your anxiety was clawing your insides to shreds and your desire to scream and sob until Taehyung understood was disturbing. 

“Why are you like this? I know you feel something, Taehyung. I know you do.” you challenged, stepping forward with blurry vision. The tears didn’t spill, only collected in pools along your eyelashes. “Why aren’t you letting yourself feel?”

Taehyung turned away from you. You watched his jaw clench and unclench; his entire body tensed. When he finally turned back to look at you, his face was scrunched in distress. 

“It would never work out, jagi. People come and go. I mean, look at you. You’re leaving.” He shook his head, sending those waves you loved flopping around his head. “People always leave and expect you to put yourself back together on your fucking own.” 

Taehyung let out a dark chuckle and stared at the floor. “It’s better not to hold on.”

Somehow, it didn’t feel like his words were directed toward you. 

You wanted to be angry, and part of you was. But the angry part of you was drowned out by sadness. You slid your fingers against Taehyung’s hand, twisting to intertwine your fingers with his. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he still didn’t look at you. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he was talking about. You couldn’t imagine losing your mother, no matter how frustrating she was. Maybe if you had, you would be like Taehyung, too. 

“But I haven’t ever broken you.” 

Taehyung slowly brought his gaze back to you and you squeezed his hand more tightly. It was the wrong move; he immediately pulled away. 

“Not yet.” 

You watched Taehyung’s hands drop to unbutton and unzip his jeans, shoving them down until he was only standing in his briefs, cock semi-hard and visible through the fabric. Every movement was tense like his joints were cemented into position and reaching for a towel from his drawer cracked every bone in his arm. You realized he was preparing to take a shower as though you weren’t standing in the middle of his bedroom with your arms wrapped around your chest and tears still welling in your tired eyes. 

“Taehyung,” you called out to ears that wouldn’t hear. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist in a final attempt to catch his attention. 

“What?” The glare he shot you should have been intimidating, but you only knew how to solve relationship conflict in one way. 

You threw your arm around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him down enough to bring his lips to yours. With every flick of your tongue in the inside of his mouth, the less tense Taehyung became. Eventually, he dropped the towel onto the floor and took your waist in his strong hands to pull you flush against his body. His skin was warm and soft, so different from the hateful energy that radiated off of him. 

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, using the break from the kiss to pull your t-shirt off. You couldn’t have answered him even if you knew. 

Once your upper body was exposed, Taehyung’s mouth fell to your shoulder, kissing along your collarbone, nipping at your skin. One hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear to push it down while his other hand gripped the back of your head, digging his fingers into your scalp. 

“If you’re going to leave me, then I’m going to ruin you for every single piece of shit that fucks you after me,” his voice rumbled against your ear and sent spikes of pleasure to your core. “I don’t want you to be able to fuck anyone else without thinking about me.”

You whimpered as Taehyung pushed you backward until you tumbled onto the bed. The hot throbbing of your clit was so uncomfortable that you squeezed your legs together to try to relieve some of the pressure as you watched Taehyung strip away his boxers. When he noticed he gave you another narrow look and roughly ripped your legs apart by your knees. 

“Nuhh uhhh, you’re gonna stay wide open for me,” he said with a groan as he admired your arousal as it dripped down to your ass and smeared along the inside of your thighs. It was easy for him to drag his cock through your lips, coat him so well that strings of your arousal stuck to his cock when he pulled back to line himself with your entrance. 

“Tae,” you whimpered, bucking your hips enough to force the head of his cock to shallowly dip inside of you. 

Despite the annoyed look he shot you, Taehyung hooked your legs around his arms and swiftly sank into you. Like before, you weren’t sure if it was Taehyung or the weed (probably both), but your vision sparkled with stars and hot white light when Taehyung’s thick head dragged against your front wall. Feeling him inside of you, no condom barrier to mute any sensations, had your legs immediately shaking. 

This time, it felt different. Taehyung fucked you with no mercy, every snap of his hips sending a rippled shudder throughout your body.  

Taehyung pulled out of you until just the tip of his cock was still gripped by the warmth of your pussy. He let his head fall forward and you heard the smack of his lips as he drooled spit directly onto his cock before plunging himself back into you with full force. His spit mixed with his precum and your arousal to allow his cock to glide into you even more smoothly, though you were wet enough for him to drown. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned. Why was he so fucking hot? 

“Oh, you still wanna call me baby?” Taehyung sneered. He spread you apart further as he thrust into you. 

“You fuck me so g-good, Tae,” you whimpered. The harder he pounded into you the more you babbled. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop yourself, but you were on the verge of tears as Taehyung’s skilled fingers came down to rub slick circles over your clit. 

“Do I?” 

“Yes, fuck! Yes, Tae. Tae.” You moaned his name over and over again, each time your pitch becoming higher and breathier until you could no longer speak. Sounds got caught in your throat and all you could do was gasp as you went mute, your eyes closed in pleasure.

Taehyung reached with his free hand to grab your throat and gave you an experimental squeeze. When he felt you clench around his pulsing cock he squeezed a bit harder. 

“Speechless, baby girl?” 

And you were. You came with a silent scream, convulsing so tightly and violently around Taehyung’s cock that he was spiraling nearly right after you. You got to ride the orgasmic high you were robbed of earlier, so airy and sweet that you didn’t care when Taehyung’s cum trickled down your thighs. 

When you were finally able to speak, Taehyung had melted into the affection, post-coital version of himself that made your heart race and your mind spiral in confusion. You knew he wanted you to forget, or at least pretend to forget, what he said. You knew he wanted you to ignore the feelings you both knew he wouldn’t address. So, instead of speaking, he tossed you over his shoulder, rubbing your thigh to soothe you. 

“Taehyung, what are you doing?” you asked with a gasp, worried about how messy you were. 

“Bringing you with me to shower.” 

The domesticity of it was almost too much for you to handle. You tried not to read into anything when Taehyung dipped low to give you kisses in between washing your hair, your skin slippery against each other. Or when he pressed you against the shower wall and sank to his knees to take you into his mouth while those alluring eyes stared up at you through wet bangs. 

It only grew worse when you got comfortable sitting on his bed (the same bed you’d lost your virginity on, you couldn’t help but think), wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts. Maybe you were being delusional, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to be sure.

“So…” You played with the hem of Taehyung’s shirt to pick at a thread that might be coming undone. “Angel…” 

Taehyung’s airy laugh wasn’t at all what you’d expected. You quickly looked up to watch him run a product that smelled like vanilla and lavender through his wet hair, so different than his usual smell. His eyes met yours through the mirror. There was never anything in them to read. 

“Angel and Jungkook are exclusive now.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” His eyes returned to his reflection.

“You’re not going to try to get her to cheat?” 

You couldn’t hold back the biting question. Shouldn’t you have been happy that Taehyung wasn’t hooking up with Angel anymore? Now she was no longer a threat to you - not that it even mattered. Yet here you were, sitting on his bed with your arms wrapped around his pillow and a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was Jungkook committed to Angel, but Taehyung couldn’t commit to you? What did Angel have that you didn’t? 

He wasn’t hooking up with anyone else because his favorite girl to hook up with was now dating his best friend. Not because you were special. 

Taehyung slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to you. You kept your eyes focused on his face, not having the heart to linger on the light purple splotches on his ribcage. 

“She already proposed a threesome,” he said with a shrug. The bed dipped and you shifted slightly to allow him to sit beside you. “I declined, though.” 

You crunched up your nose at the idea, the image of Taehyung having sex with Jungkook and Angel flooding your brain. Suddenly the room felt entirely too warm and stuffy. You tossed Taehyung’s pillow to the side and stood up, knocking your phone off your lap. Sucking in as much air as you could, you lifted your chin to the ceiling to practice deep breathing and stop the spontaneous tears that were pooling in your eyes from spilling. 

“What?” Taehyung retrieved your phone and held it out to you, but you kept your eyes upward. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Tae.” You blinked once, twice, and then the tears spilled for the third time that day. “You’re too much. I can’t… I just can’t do it, okay? I can’t.” You knew you weren’t making any sense, but it was all you could say without turning into a blubbering mess. 

With blurry eyes, you took your phone and scooped up your clothes from where you’d left them folded on Taehyung’s dresser. 

“I have to go home.”

“Right now?” Taehyung rose from the bed to follow you out of the room. “The threesome thing was just a joke, Y/N, a joke. Angel’s always fucking running her mouth.”

You didn’t bother to look at him, keeping your lips pressed shut and barely hearing whatever pathetic excuse he’d crafted for you. If you got out of there as quickly as possible, maybe leaving him would hurt less. Maybe you could tell yourself you were crossing that threshold for the last time. Maybe it would be true.

“Can I at least drop you off?” 

“No.” 

Taehyung knew better than to argue with you when you were in a state like this. He watched you stomp into your shoes without bothering to change out of his t-shirt and basketball shorts. He noticed that you’d forgotten your cardigan on the couch, but he didn’t say anything. 

You were determined to make this exit as unceremonious as possible, but then Taehyung’s fingers found your chin and you were tilting up your face to grant him access to your mouth. Your mind went blank with white noise. He gently sucked your bottom lip as he cradled your cheek in his hand, his thumb swiping over a stray tear. 

It was a soft, sweet kiss—a rare kiss from him. Perhaps the last kiss, and you felt your stomach flip. 

“You know where to find me, jagi,” Taehyung whispered the familiar promise against your lips. Your eyes dared to flutter shut, but you pulled together what little dignity you had left and stepped away before you could do something even more stupid. 

For the second time, you stood in the hallway outside of Taehyung’s front door and requested an Uber, his kisses lingering on your lips.

“And this is you, Miss. I hope you have a lovely time. Much better weather here, even in the spring, than up there in Yankee territory.” 

The taxi driver dropped you off in front of a large brownstone building. The university’s banner hung on the porch and a few bikes were thrown onto the yard near the sidewalk. Since you were starting late in the year, no other students were moving in. You couldn’t tell if anyone was home at all. 

You dragged two large suitcases behind you. It was all you could manage to bring since your parents refused to help move you in. Leaving home was a decision you’d made on your own; therefore, you were forced to do it all on your own. 

You didn’t give a fuck, though. 

Hauling the suitcases up the brick stairs to the front door proved to be a bit of a challenge. You tried dragging them both up, but it only took one suitcase tumbling down three steps before you decided to reevaluate your approach. You were halfway done with pulling the second suitcase up the stairs when the front door flew open, caught on a gust of wind that sent the fluffy blonde hair of the boy who stepped outside flying. 

He wore an oversized sweater despite the warm weather, and the light, airy way he held himself made you feel like he probably never sweated a day in his life. The fabric at the collar drooped slightly, exposing a bit of his collarbone. You couldn’t look away from the sharpness of his eyes and the lidded expression he wore that seemed unintentionally sultry, especially paired with his parted plump lips. 

“Hey, Y/N, right? I’m Park Jimin, your Resident Assistant!” When he smiled the intimidating gaze disappeared and his eyes squinted into happy creases. You felt a bit of relief from the heat he’d caused to spread across your body. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes in the same way, but wasn’t disingenuous. It was nice to meet him. He was the first person you’d met at your new university. This was a good first step, right? A good first step toward easing the aching loneliness you’d felt in your chest the moment you boarded the flight to California. 

You wanted friends so badly it hurt. 

Jimin’s bright eyes flitted down to spot your fingers tightly clutching your suitcase on the stairs. He rolled up the baggy sleeves of his sweater. ”Do you need any help bringing your stuff in?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have-” 

For a guy on the smaller side, Jimin was strong. He gathered both suitcases and disappeared inside the building. 

“I’ll show you where your room is,” he called over his shoulder. 

You quickly followed him, making sure to shut the front door securely behind you. The building was old. A few cracks climbed up the walls like ivy and the intricate cut of the staircase’s wooden railing looked far too pretty to be part of a college dorm. You liked the gothic aesthetic, finding that it gave the building a charm that modern fixtures just couldn’t do. Your parents would have hated it. 

Jimin led you up the front stairs to a long hallway with many doors that you assumed to be bedrooms. Upon closer inspection, you found that each door had decorations that adorned it, with some of the decorations displaying the names of the students who lived inside. Yesenia and Jisoo in one, Carmen and Emily in the other. The bedroom across the hall from yours listed Jimin and Hoseok. 

“Oh, you live here, too?” You pointed to the door once the two of you stopped. 

Jimin’s head tilted back in an explosive giggle that exposed his bright teeth. “Of course, as I said, I’m your Resident Assistant. I’m the student in charge of the dorm. You know, to make sure you don’t get into a fight with your roommate or set the place on fire.” He gestured for you to unlock your room. 

Alexis accompanied your name on the door, so it seemed safe to assume that the girl typing away on her laptop at one of the desks in the room was Alexis. She quickly ripped her glasses off her face and fluffed up her thick, curly hair. 

“Oh my god, wow, hi Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming today. Jimin, wow. You didn’t knock.” The girl’s lips moved faster than her brain and she fumbled over her words, her head twisting like an owl’s as she watched Jimin carry your suitcases over to your side of the bedroom. 

“I should have, I’m sorry.” Jimin gave the girl a pout and you watched her olive skin brighten with a twinge of pink across her cheeks. 

“No, no, it’s okay! You can come into my room whenever you want.” The moment the words left her lips her large eyes shot to yours. You raised your eyebrows, unsure how you were suddenly being silently called upon. “I mean, like, for your RA duties and whatever, I get it!” 

The poor girl was a mess and everyone in the room knew it. You found her apparent interest in Jimin cute, though. It was understandable. You’d just met the guy a few minutes ago and could already tell he was one of those campus heartbreakers they always have in the movies, the ones everyone pines over but are somehow untouchable. They always had a girlfriend at another university or they were fuckboys. 

Whatever Jimin’s story was, you weren’t interested. 

“So,” Jimin turned back to you, and Alexis practically deflated at her desk. “I can give you my number in case you ever need anything. Like if you get locked out or Alexis tries to kill you in your sleep.” 

He shot your roommate a wink as you exchanged numbers and you were sure her soul left her body. 

“You’ve been so helpful, already, thank you.” 

Jimin waved you off. “Don’t worry about it.” He slowly made his way back to the door, leaning against the frame as he looked at you for a moment longer. “I’ll see you around!” 

The moment Jimin closed the door Alexis made a noise that sounded more like a dying animal than a human being. You stared at her with wide eyes as she slid out of her seat and into a puddle on the floor. 

“He’s the prettiest boy in the world,” she said after a moment, lying on her back with her eyes glued to the ceiling. Or perhaps staring into nothing; you weren’t sure. “I wish I was a Music major so I could spend every day going to class with him and listening to him sing and looking at that face sculptured by the gods. And his butt.” 

“Mhmm, he is very attractive,” you agreed, only half listening. You started unpacking your suitcases, mentally mapping out how you’d like to personalize your side of the room to make it feel a bit more like you. You didn’t know what made you feel like you quite yet, but that was what the new university was for. You were going to figure it out.

Alexis was a lovely roommate. Although she was a bit odd, her quirks were endearing and they made her easy to get along with. She was a self-proclaimed nerd which helped you bond since all the two of you ever did was study. Your bedroom, the common rooms in the dorm, the library - it didn’t matter where, just as long as you had the two of each other. The other students living in the dorms were a lot more rambunctious and less focused on academics. It wasn’t rare for you and Alexis to keep each other company while parties raged downstairs. 

There was one thing you wish you could change, though. Alexis snored. This wasn’t some cute snore, either. Her snores were so loud you imagined they were similar to the sound the ground makes when an earthquake breaks it up into pieces beneath civilization. 

Yeah, it was bad. 

In the beginning you were so exhausted from adjusting to school that the snoring hadn’t bothered you. But now you were lying in bed making shapes out of the dark, Alexis’s violent breathing rumbling through the room. 

With a small sigh, you slid into your slippers and snuck through the door, remembering to grab your keys before you left. It was nearly two in the morning on a Wednesday; you didn’t want to lock yourself out of your room and have to call Jimin to let you in. He was certainly a social butterfly, but you doubted he wanted to deal with your problems so late on a school night. 

You planned to raid the kitchen for a snack and maybe watch something on Netflix in the living room. A fuller belly and some quiet TV show might be what you needed to lull you back to sleep again, and hopefully you wouldn’t fall asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

It wasn’t until you reached the bottom of the staircase and turned toward the hallway that led to the kitchen that you heard it: a soft, gentle piano melody. With your interest peaked, you followed the sound across the threshold of the living room. You knew in the corner of the room there was an old upright piano, but you’d never seen anyone use it. No one in your dorm seemed to be musically-inclined except Yesenia, but she played the guitar (another sound to keep you up at night).

Although it wasn’t Yesenia, you shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jimin’s hands gliding across the keys with expert precision. He was a Music major, after all. It was easy to forget. You rarely saw Jimin in the dorms, though he always seemed to be around when anyone needed him. You stood watching Jimin lean forward slightly as the song took what felt like a more serious tone, the notes deeper and more haunting. His eyes were closed and his lips were pouted. His entire body rocked with the music, a push and pull of passion. The only light came from a floor lamp in the corner of the room that cast a soft orange glow that turned Jimin’s hair golden. He looked like an angel. 

And then the music stopped. Jimin’s eyes snapped open and he turned to look directly at you. 

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly, placing his hands into his lap. You shook your head quickly. 

“No, no. Alexis was… Um, I couldn’t sleep.” You bit your lip and decided maybe spilling Alexis’s horrible sleeping habits to her crush would be inappropriate of you. “You play beautifully. Yiruma’s A Moonlight Song?”

Jimin’s eyes widened and a lovely grin bloomed across his face. “How did you know?” 

“I used to play,” you admitted shyly, casting your eyes away from the man. One of the many pretentious hobbies your mother forced onto you. “He was always my favorite.” 

Jimin scooted over on the bench and patted the now free space beside him. You were tempted to decline, as you had declined nearly all of his offers to hang out with you in the past month. The excuses were abundant: you were busy with school, busy with your new job at the library, busy hanging out with Alexis. And yes, you were busy, but not too busy to spend time with a friend. You weren’t sure what made you repeatedly turn Jimin down. You also weren’t sure what made him keep trying. 

The pout his lips were beginning to form pushed you to cooperate this time. You hesitantly slid next to him. 

“Play for me?” he inquired in the same soft tone he’d used a moment before. This time the whisper was just against the shell of your ear when Jimin turned to you, and the tickle of his breath made you shiver beneath your sweatshirt. 

When you turned toward him you found that Jimin hadn’t looked away. Your faces were close enough for you to see the glow of the lamp light in his eyes. You inhaled sharply and the breathy sound made Jimin’s eyes fall to your lips. 

“I’m not good at it anymore.” You swiftly moved to face the piano again. 

“Please?” 

Now it was your mouth puckering into a pout, but your fingers lightly rested on the keys anyway. They moved on their own accord, dancing along without your brain needing to tell them where to go. There were only a few songs you could play from memory, most of them Yiruma’s. Your mother played them when you were little, before she lost her inspiration. 

Jimin hummed softly as you played. You caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, but you quickly looked away when you realized he was watching you, rather than the piano. 

“Love me?” 

“What?” you asked. When Jimin spoke, your middle finger pressed too hard on one of the keys, throwing off the groove you had going. You wanted to blame your shakiness on being tired. 

“Off of his second album. Love Me.” Jimin cocked his head to the side. 

“Oh. Right.” You blinked. “I memorized it when I couldn’t read sheet music.” 

Jimin let out a small hum of appreciation. “You’re talented. You should take it up again.” 

A tight knot twisted inside your chest at Jimin’s words. You’d forgotten how cathartic it was to set aside time for self expression, especially when there were no recitals to attend or extravagant parties to entertain at. Playing for the sake of playing was a beautiful thing. 

He watched you for another silent moment, as though he knew you were working hard to breathe through the flood of emotions suddenly seizing your heart. You reached up to swiftly run your fingers along your eyelashes to collect the dampness that had begun to form there. 

“Do you want to get donuts?” The randomness of the question made you exhale a puff of quiet laughter. It managed to chase away the lingering bitterness you felt. 

“Sure?” 

“Sick!” Jimin rose from the bench and adjusted the sleeves of his hoodie. “Have you ever been to Koko’s? Go put some shoes on. We can walk.” 

Koko’s turned out to be a small family-owned donut shop frequented by college students. On your walk Jimin explained that Koko’s was open twenty-four hours which partially contributed to the college students’ love for the shop. It also helped that the donuts were “pretty fucking good” in his words. 

“There’s nothing like a 2 a.m. donut,” he said with a sigh after taking a bite out of a maple bacon donut. 

You opted for something a bit more traditional (or “boring” according to Jimin): a classic glazed donut. The two of you sat on the curb in the parking lot of the shop. Despite the late hour, the inside was packed with college students. It was an already small space, so the two of you couldn’t find anywhere to sit, but you didn’t mind. The night air was comfortably cool and it was nice to stretch your legs out while you watched people file in and out. 

“I might end up here every night.” You licked a bit of the glazed sugar off of your fingers. 

Jimin grunted in agreement, also finishing the last of his donut. “Tell me when you go. I want to come, too.”

Despite your initial hesitancy to spend time with him, it was an easy promise to make. 

“I tried making some once.” You drew your legs up against your chest and wrapped your arms around your knees. The toe of your sneaker scuffed against a loose chunk of asphalt. 

“Did they taste good?” 

“No,” you snorted. “I got something wrong. But I love baking and sweets, so I’ll try anything.” 

Jimin nodded and pulled his legs against his chest in the same manner you had. “You’re really creative.” 

“You think so?” It wasn’t how you’d ever think to describe yourself, but the look on Jimin’s face made you believe him. There was something nice about someone else seeing you. It was nice to be seen. 

“Have you ever thought about studying music in school? You’re a Law major, right?” 

Jimin rested his chin on his knees and watched you with the same unintentionally sultry expression he’d worn the first day you met him. Perhaps this time it was the dim lighting playing with his features. Regardless, it was impossible to look away. 

“Law is more practical.” Before you even finished the sentence you were already slapping your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“It’s fine,” Jimin said with a reassuring smile. “Everyone says studying music is impractical. That I won’t find a job or make any money. I don’t really care, though. It’s what my heart wants.” He stood up and held out his hand to help you stand as well. It wasn’t until you were back in your dorm that Jimin brought up music again. 

“And Y/N,” Jimin called to you softly. 

You poked your head out of your bedroom door to see him still standing in the hallway outside of his room. “Yes?” 

“You should do what your heart wants, too.” He gave you a smile just as soft as his words before wishing you goodnight. 

“Look at this one.” Alexis pressed her fingers to the base of her neck and dramatically cleared her throat. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ve never met anyone as sexy as you. So cringey, oh my god.”

You crinkled your nose at the terrible Valentine’s Day poem taped to a door on one of the university’s academic buildings. The poems were taped all over campus. They served as fliers to advertise some fraternity’s annual Valentine’s Day party. 

“It’s the one Jimin is in,” Alexis pointed out as she ripped the flyer down. Her bag was full of them at this point and it seemed like each flyer the two of you happened across was worse than the previous. 

“Jimin’s in a fraternity?” You crossed the street with Alexis as you walked back to your dorm. You walked past a streetlight with another bright pink paper taped to it. 

“Yup.” Alexis stuck her arm across you to snatch that flyer, too. “Ew, gross. Roses are red, violets are blue, let’s cut the foreplay and head straight to the bedroom. Are they even allowed to post this kind of language around town? And with those disgusting, censored porn memes?”

“No, actually. Obscene public advertisements are very illegal.” 

You and Alexis whipped your heads around to find Jimin trailing behind you. Alexis quickly shoved the flyer into your hands as if she wasn’t already carrying around a backpack full of them. 

“Oh. Hi, Jimin. How are you doing? We were just admiring the…” She shot you a nervous look. Of course. 

You did your best to smooth out the flyer and handed it to Jimin as he fell in line with you as you walked. “Sorry,” you mumbled, face heating up.

“Don’t worry about it.” His giggle eased a bit of the tension. “Are you two going?” 

“Absolutely not. We have essays to write.” 

Jimin stuck his tongue out at Alexis before turning to you expectantly. “Don’t let her speak for you, Y/N. Do you want to go?” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really go to parties…” You hated how lame you sounded. Partying had never been an option before. Not unless you were with Taehyung. And everything about Jimin had you assuming going out with him would be a much different experience than with Taehyung. 

“Parties aren’t my thing, either. But you deserve a break from so much studying.” Those happy, soft eyes creased by puffy cheeks made your chest ache, though you weren’t sure why. “Be my date?”

You heard Alexis choke on either air or her own spit beside you, but you stayed focused on the beautiful boy flanking the other side of you. 

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you!” 

Somehow the three of you now stood outside your apartment’s front door. Jimin fished for his lanyard while you and Alexis silently eyed each other. You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but Alexis’s expression was a mix of horror and something akin to anger or, more likely, jealousy. The lock you had on each other’s gaze was broken by Jimin gesturing for the two of you to enter the building before him. 

“Y/N?” Jimin leaned against the staircase railing as you and Alexis ascended. “Think about it?”

You had exactly five hours to mull it over. At least half of that time consisted of Alexis on her “anti-Greek life” soapbox. 

“Their hazing practices are unlawful, Y/N. They do horrible things to each other.” She paced the space between your beds with one of the fliers crumpled in her hands. “And they throw these parties to take advantage of girls. The fliers!” 

Just like with most of her other rants, you were barely listening to Alexis as you laid on your bed writing a text to Jimin only to delete it before hitting send. Then to rewrite. And then delete. Rewrite again. 

“Alexis, will you please go with me?” You tried pouting, but you weren’t in your small town anymore. There were lots of pretty faces in California. Yours did nothing to sway your roommate who threw herself onto her bed when she realized you were going to go. Whatever her response was, it came out garbled and muffled by the fact that her face was pressed into her blankets.

So dramatic. 

And perhaps you were being a bit dramatic, too. You skipped the pregame Jimin invited you to, insisting that you would meet him at the frat house on your own. For someone still figuring out how to talk to other people, you weren’t particularly keen on spending hours binge drinking and playing games with a bunch of frat bros and their groupies. The party would probably be too much for you, anyway. It would just be more binge drinking and playing games with a bunch of frat bros and their groupies. 

Alexis was probably right. 

You were probably going to hate it. 

The night was already starting off on a bad note. Your powder blue babydoll dress didn’t fit the Valentine’s Day theme, but you realized with frustrated tears in your eyes as you stood in front of a mountain of clothes in your dorm that it was the only thing cute enough for a college party. It didn’t help that despite getting it cleaned, you still thought it smelled like oak and spice. Like Taehyung. You couldn’t help but fall into the cyclical thinking you always fell into as you approached the frat house, remembering the empty feeling you’d felt when Taehyung neglected you for most of the party that night. Maybe the Valentine’s Day party would be a repeat of that. There was always someone more interesting to entertain, you supposed. That had been true for Taehyung then; it may be true for Jimin now.

And there was the prettiest boy in the world, perched on the wooden railing that bordered the front porch of the fraternity house. He leaned with his elbows on his knees, a sweating beer grasped in his musician’s hands. He was there, waiting for you just like he said he would be.

“Jimin!” You didn’t have the fake the enthusiasm needed to raise your voice over the music and laughter filtering through the house as you bounced up the porch’s stairs. 

Jimin grinned into his eyes when he stood to greet you. Gone were the shorts and oversized comfy sweaters. Gone were the fluffy bangs; his blonde hair was straight and swept off of his forehead. It was shocking to see your friend in ripped jeans so tight they didn’t leave much for the imagination and a muscle tank ripped far enough down the sides that you could see his chest when he turned. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jimin spoke with a gesture to your outfit. 

“You’re so fratty,” you countered with a sly smile. 

You liked the idea of testing out a bit of banter, especially when you earned a sweet Jimin giggle in response. It was almost enough of a reward to carry you through the most painful part of the night, when Jimin dragged you through every corner of the house to have you meet more boys wearing tattered sports jerseys and backwards baseball caps while you sipped shitty beer. It wasn’t until Jimin seemingly ran out of favorites that you had a moment to yourselves. 

“Your friends seem…” Your eyes swept over the living room where couples danced together to a playlist that somehow ranged from The Killers to Kesha and DMX. 

“Stupid?” 

“Nice.” 

Jimin snorted, but the grin he wore was apparently permanent for tonight. His eyes followed yours into the crowd. “Do you dance?” He tsked when you immediately shook your head. “Everyone dances. Dance with me?” 

Yet again, how could you say no?

Jimin’s hand was gentle but firm against the small of your back. He led you a bit of a ways into the crowd, but didn’t push you further than it seemed you wanted to go.

“Shall we waltz?” He gave you a cheeky grin and you noticed that he hadn’t lifted his hand. You felt the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress. Unlike when you’d gone out with Taehyung, Jimin didn’t pull you against him; he let you fall in line with him instead. He slowly eased into a fluid rhythm, rolling his hips along to the song. 

“Hmm, I would if I knew how,” you spoke loud enough for him to hear above the music. “I have no rhythm at all, for any kind of dance.” 

Jimin shook his head. “Dancing is easy. You just make it up as you go…” He brought his other hand to rest against your hip and applied enough gentle pressure to push you to one side. His other hand slid from your back to the other hip. He began to alternate pressure until he had your hips swaying along with his. “Like this.” 

The song changed and so did Jimin’s instruction. He guided you through each transition, teasing you every time you tensed up. 

“You have to feel it!” 

“I do!” 

“Then listen to the feeling,” he challenged. “Don’t think too hard.” 

The more crowded the room got, the closer the two of you were pushed together, until you had you found your arms hanging loosely against Jimin’s shoulders and your legs practically intertwined as you danced against one another. 

“Hi,” Jimin whispered against the shell of your ear. He leaned in close enough that your chin momentarily rested against his collarbone before he pulled away. Though he created a bit more distance between you again, your legs stayed slotted between each other and Jimin kept his hand on the small of your back. 

“Hi,” you parroted back, your shy smile making a bright grin bloom across Jimin’s face.

“Having fun?” 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and it was impossible not to notice Jimin’s eyes drop down to stare at your mouth. 

“Yeah,” you replied in a breathy tone. 

Jimin hummed in response. His hips continued to roll into yours to the beat of the music. Your fingers instinctually squeezed Jimin’s shoulder when you felt his cock grind against the inside of your thigh the next time his fluid body moved with yours. You felt him the moment the two of you started grinding on each other; it was impossible not to. But he was soft then, and now he was semi-hard. Now you felt him heavy and warm through his jeans. 

Your eyes quickly lifted to look at Jimin. He was already watching you with those plump pink lips slightly parted. Gone was his sweet, puffy-cheeked expression. The lidded, sultry sharpness of his eyes made your entire body prickle with heat. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Making the conscious decision to speak rather than freeze or simply nod your head had your anxiety spiking through the roof. But you did it. Despite the shattering pounding of your heart trying to choke you out your throat, you opened your mouth. 

“Yes, please.” 

Jimin’s hold on you tightened and he finally made the first move to pull you firmly against his chest. He tasted like watered down beer and spiked punch, so much softer than Taehyung’s heavy smoke and vodka. Jimin’s teeth pressed against your lips, but rather than bite you, the sharpness was simply from him smiling. He exhaled a tiny puff of air against your cheek through his nose that released a quiet, bubbly laugh. There was no fight for dominance between teeth, lips, and tongues. His fingers didn’t bruise your hips when he held you. The sounds he gifted you beneath the heavy bass of the music were soft moans, not harsh growls or frustrated whines. 

Kissing Jimin was like falling into clouds of strawberry vanilla swirls at sunrise. It was like riding with the windows down on a golden summer day, letting the warm air tickle your nose and the hair on your arms. 

Kissing Jimin felt like something you’d never felt before. 

Kissing Jimin felt safe. 

When he pulled away you weren’t left out of breath, but you still gasped for his touch, lips chasing his. 

“I want to take you upstairs,” he murmured against your jaw just below your ear. 

It was hard to know who initially led the way through the swarm of sweaty bodies and up the front staircase. Your limbs were tangled with Jimin’s, the two of you nearly tripping over someone passed out in the hallway as Jimin jiggled door handles until he found one that was unlocked. You took no time to bother looking around the bedroom you were in, and Jimin didn’t give you the chance even if you wanted to. 

He gently pressed you into the mattress, his hand reaching toward the back of his head to pull his shirt off. 

“Wow.” You trailed your fingers along the muscles of Jimin’s torso, your hand growing shakier the lower you got. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach for his belt, even when he bucked his hips into yours and you felt his cock grind in between your thighs. Everything Jimin did was distracting. His soft lips were sucking along your collarbone, his talented fingers rubbing gentle circles into your waist. He was playing you, hitting every note like he’d known you all along. 

But it was too much. 

You squeezed his wrist when you felt his hands begin to push your dress up your hips. He looked up at you with such fucked out eyes that stood out prettily against eyebrows that scrunched together in concern. 

“Do you want to stop? I’m sorry, we can stop. I’m so sorry, I went too fast.” He immediately pulled away to lean back on his knees. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“No…” You slowly eased into a sitting position and adjusted your dress. “Well, I mean, yes.” 

Jimin’s frown deepened. “What?” 

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look him in the eyes. “I really like you. So, don’t apologize, okay? I just…” Another deep breath. Another pat down of your dress. “I just got out of a relationship and I think I need to just… be myself for a little bit. I don’t think I’m ready to try out anything with anyone else yet.” 

You scrunched up your nose and subconsciously matched Jimin’s frown. But then his frown turned into the soft Jimin smile you were becoming so used to seeing. 

“Oh, okay. I totally get that.” He reached for his shirt to slip over his head once again. “I was so scared that I’d misread the whole thing. But I think that’s really strong of you.” 

You slid off of the bed and averted your eyes when Jimin stood to adjust his cock in his jeans. “Why strong?” 

“Relationships are hard to bounce back from. You have every right to take time for yourself.” Jimin wrapped his pinky around yours and tugged until you turned back to look at him. He brought his other hand up to cup your chin when you refused to meet his eye. “Hey, look at me. I’m not upset, okay? And even if I was, who the fuck cares.” 

You nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. 

“You take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere. And if you decide you don’t want this,” he gestured to the two of you. “Then you’re still going to be one of my dearest friends. You got that?” 

Of course you did. Even if you were too afraid to admit that this was what you wanted, despite knowing that time was also what you knew you needed, Jimin’s smiling eyes were enough to ease the churning of your tummy. And maybe if you could just wipe your clammy hands on his shirt, you might be all but perfect. 

You tossed your arms over Jimin’s shoulders and squeezed him tightly against you. “Thank you. For being thoughtful.” Your voice was muffled against his shirt, and maybe from a few tears, but he heard you and that was all that mattered. 

“That’s why I’m the best Resident Assistant out there,” he said with a playfully cocky grin. 

You rolled your eyes and straightened yourself out with a long exhale. “Should we go back to waltzing now?” 

“Come over and let me show you what you’re missing.”

Taehyung pulled away from you just enough to where your lips were barely touching. The two of you were breathing hard, inhaling each other’s air until you began to feel dizzy. 

“Did you drive?” His already deep voice came out raspy from need and a lack of oxygen from the kiss. 

You shook your head and immediately regretted how it made your brain spin. Hopping around nightclubs hadn’t even initially been the plan for you that night, but your coworkers were exceptionally persuasive. The group of you were a bunch of college kids earning just enough money through your internships to spend it all on alcohol and ridiculously-priced Uber rides. 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

It was all very unlike you, and Taehyung knew it. He distinctly remembered Namjoon’s iron grip on your social life in the many years you’d been dating. Anything that was beneath Namjoon he made sure everyone knew was also beneath you, too - regardless of how you actually felt. Taehyung was positive Namjoon would be pissed to know his precious girlfriend was at a nightclub in a miniskirt while he hunched over college textbooks. 

“Y/N, are you leaving?” Your coworker eyed Taehyung’s tall figure as he led you through the sea of bodies grinding to the trashy club music. Jackie was being a good friend; no girl in their right mind would let their friend go home with a stranger. 

“Don’t worry about her,” Taehyung butted in. He leaned in and flashed Jackie a smile that was capable of making the coldest of souls flush with heat. “She’s in good hands, promise.” He winked at Jackie and you’d never seen the phrase “ruffled feathers” more accurately represented in real life. Jackie looked like she wanted to punch Taehyung in the face and climb him like a tree. 

You hated that you could relate.

“I’m sorry I’m leaving early.” You tried to reassure Jackie with a small smile and a clear statement to prove that you weren’t completely wasted. “I just don’t feel that great.” 

You nearly choked on the guilt that squeezed your throat when Jackie slowly waved you off, the rest of your coworkers shouting their goodbyes while Taehyung led you out of the nightclub, his long arm curved around your waist. 

Walking was proving to be difficult, not because of the vodka you’d consumed, but because of the absolutely devastating orgasm Taehyung had fingerfucked out of you in the bathroom. 

“Struggling, baby girl?” 

You could hear the smirk in Taehyung’s voice before you even looked up to see it. The two of you stepped out into the cool night air and you struggled to keep up with Taehyung’s long gait as he led you down the sidewalk. 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but your grip on his shirt tightened. 

He’d already guessed the truth, but you were dreading him finding out that he’d been right… Namjoon had made you promise that the two of you would save yourselves for each other. That was the whole point of the purity ring that weighed down your finger. No sex before marriage. It would make it more special, Namjoon had said. Sex while the two of you were trying to earn a college education was a distraction, he’d convinced you. 

And now you’d let Taehyung shove his fingers up your pussy in a nightclub bathroom stall. What was wrong with you? 

“This is me.” Taehyung opened the passenger door of the sports car parked along the curb. All black, with tinted windows. You didn’t know anything about cars, but this one seemed very Taehyung. 

He closed the door behind you once you slid into the passenger seat. Finding his place behind the steering wheel, Taehyung made it clear that his intention was to get to his apartment as quickly as possible. You watched downtown disappear in colorful streaks of light through the windows. There was still time to change your mind. You could tell Taehyung no; you knew he would back off if you did. He was an asshole but he wasn’t a creep. 

But every time the logical part of you screamed to shut it all down, Taehyung would do something to coax out the part of your soul that longed to just do whatever you wanted. How many people hovered over you, dictating your life to you? Your parents? Your boyfriend? Even your friends and coworkers who thought you couldn’t make decisions for yourself. 

Taehyung was an open door among a million that were bolted shut. 

You slowly pried your eyes from the cityscape to watch Taehyung’s right hand palm your bare thigh. Your breath hitched and shuddered as his fingers curved around the inside of your thigh, pulling your leg open a bit to give him easier access to your pussy. 

“Does Namjoon not let you speak on your own?” Taehyung snickered. “You’re gonna have to talk to me, jagiya, or this night isn’t going to go the way we want it to.” 

His threat was too vague for you to know how to react, so you stayed quiet - only confirming what Taehyung said. It wasn’t like you couldn’t speak on your own… You were just used to other people jumping in before you had the chance. Eventually, you had given up.  

Reaching the inside of your legs, Taehyung rubbed quick, tight circles against your core. You were still sensitive from your little activities in the bathroom, so you squirmed from his touch. 

“Have you ever given road head before?” 

You scrunched your eyebrows together and stared at Taehyung’s profile, trying to decipher his question. Thankfully, he pulled his hand away from you and that allowed your clouded brain to clear out a bit. That is, until he carded his fingers through his hair, and you remembered how soft those brown waves were under your grip.

“What did I say about talking?” His eyes briefly met yours before they returned to the road. He was driving entirely too fast. 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“You don’t know what road head is? Namjoon really has sheltered you.” Taehyung let out a breathy laugh; he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Suck me off.” 

You could tell by the way he said it that he was both clarifying your confusion and giving you a command. His response stunned you, sending a spike of adrenaline into your heart. Or was it fear? 

Maybe you should have anticipated something like this out of Taehyung, but you’d really thought you’d have the car ride to think about all the ways you were going to hell and (perhaps) rectify that. Not giving Taehyung a blowjob while he went 100 mph down a street with a 50 mph speed limit. 

“You’re driving,” you finally responded. Not to mention he’d been drinking all night. But wait, why were you considering this to begin with?

“I’m a fantastic driver,” he said simply, giving your thigh a squeeze. Taehyung’s patience was going to be tested tonight if you kept taking forever to answer him. “So get your ass over here.” 

You bit your lip, your eyes traveling from Taehyung’s sharp jaw as he spoke to the visible bulge in the crotch of his jeans. 

“I’ve never done that before…” 

Taehyung’s eyes lit up and he turned to look at you for much longer than you were comfortable with, considering he was still driving. His eyes swept the length of your body before they were back on the road again. 

“I’m gonna have fun with you.” 

Your face burned with the shame of knowing how your stomach fluttered at Taehyung’s remark, and it was in that moment that you knew you weren’t coming back from this. Yet again, you could have protested, but instead you simply sat back and watched. 

Taehyung reached down to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock from the tight restraints of his briefs. You’d never see a cock in real life before, not even your boyfriend’s. Namjoon had been serious about staying pure. 

Shamefully so, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from it as Taehyung gave himself a few lazy pumps, rolling his palm around the head. It looked so much larger than you’d expected, both in length and girth, though you had literally nothing to compare it to. 

“Unbuckle yourself and come here.”

Was it wrong that the thing you were worried about was how unsafe this was, rather than the fact that you were being unfaithful to your boyfriend? 

Leaning over the center console, you paused before reaching Taehyung’s crotch. Anxiety was ripping through your body; you felt like you could hardly breathe. Taehyung’s eyes flitted down to look at you in his lap, noticing that you were freezing up. With his eyes returning to the road, he reached out to slowly push your head closer to his cock. 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told and let out a small whimper when Taehyung tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. He gave you a few more taps, rubbing the tip over the surface of your outstretched tongue. It tasted salty, but not gross like the horror stories made you believe. 

“Do not fucking bite me,” he warned. 

“I won’t.” You wouldn’t have dared to do so nor would you have wanted to, but the sternness of his tone made you nervous that you might somehow do it on accident. 

Pushing down on your head, he guided your mouth onto his cock. You weren’t completely naive; you’d watched porn before. But once you had the head of Taehyung’s velvety cock pressed against your lips, you realized watching porn and actually sucking dick were very different. 

“Fuck, suck in your cheeks when you go down,” he instructed, bucking up slightly once he felt you take his head in your mouth. You struggled to find the proper breathing pattern as you inched further, and you couldn’t figure out where to put your tongue. Gradually, your shame was morphing into embarrassment for having no idea what you were doing. 

In reality, it didn’t matter if you were shit at this; Taehyung didn’t care. He was getting off on the knowledge that you were dating that bastard Kim Namjoon, yet Taehyung’s dick was the first one you’d ever had in your mouth. 

“Go faster.” He grabbed a fistful of your hair and showed you the pace that he wanted, guiding your head up and down his cock.

The sudden way he handled you made you cough around his cock, and Taehyung moaned from the vibration it created. You widened your eyes at the sound and you felt that familiar heat begin to pool in your center. Despite how sore your mouth and throat were becoming, the knowledge that you’d elicited such a response out of Taehyung had your pussy throbbing. 

Your body was betraying you.

Taehyung squeezed tightly on the steering wheel, fighting his desire to fuck your mouth the way he wanted to. As you got closer to his apartment, Taehyung quickly pulled your hair to lift you away from his cock. 

“Fuck, stop,” he hissed, returning both hands to the wheel. You stared at him, unsure of what you’d done. Had you accidentally used your teeth? You didn’t think so. 

“Did I do something?” You hated how much you wanted his validation. 

“I’m not finishing in your mouth.” Taehyung didn’t look at you as he spoke, instead focused on parking. “I’m gonna fucking fill you up, baby girl.” 

You trembled at his words, a shaky hand reaching up to wipe your mouth before Taehyung was gesturing you to get out the car. 

His apartment wasn’t anything spectacular. You recalled that his roommate was another guy you’d gone to high school with, one of the other boys who spent his days smoking in the bathroom with Taehyung instead of going to Calculus. They weren’t necessarily the school’s bad boys, but more so the school’s lost causes. Everyone was genuinely shocked when they graduated on time. Taehyung and Namjoon’s parents were friends, and you remembered Namjoon’s parents regularly commenting on Taehyung’s parents’ failure to properly parent their child. 

“Taehyung is wasted potential,” Namjoon had told you after his fight with Taehyung the summer before freshman year of college. “He likes to ruin other people’s successes to make himself feel better about not amounting to anything.” 

After Taehyung locked the apartment door behind him, he bent down to wrap an arm around your thighs and throw you over his shoulder. You squealed in shock, head reeling. 

“You’re gonna wake up my roommate,” he warned. Being carried upside down didn’t give you a great opportunity to take a good look around Taehyung’s apartment, but he wasn’t bringing you over to have you inspect his interior design skills. 

Kicking his bedroom door open, Taehyung threw you onto his bed. You watched as he began unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor once he’d gotten it off. 

“Strip,” he commanded offhandedly, his fingers trailing down to his jeans. The only sound in the room was your nervous breathing and Taehyung slowly pulling his zipper down. Pushing off his jeans, he kicked them off to the side along with his briefs. 

You still hadn’t moved and Taehyung quirked his eyebrow at you. “What did I say?” 

Hands still shaking, you began to undress yourself as you took in Taehyung’s naked body. You’d never seen a naked man in the flesh before nor had you ever been naked in front of one. 

“Like what you see?” Taehyung smirked, and you quickly looked away. He was practically devouring you with his eyes as he pumped himself once more. “You’re not on the pill, are you?” 

“No. I don’t have a reason to be.” You felt your face grow hot at how straightforward Taehyung was being about something so intimate. Yet you were sitting there, naked in his bed, so why were you so shocked? 

You watched him retrieve a condom and slip it on, mentally taking note of the process for the future. Then he climbed onto the bed and parted your knees with his. Taehyung grabbed your chin and pressed his lips against yours, his fingers finding your center to prod into it, making quick scissoring motions that had you gasping. 

“You’re going… too fast,” you rasped, knees squeezing against the outside of his thighs. 

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and take it?” Despite his challenging remark, Taehyung slowed down his fingers to a more comfortable pace. You whimpered beneath him, feeling the hot spring coiling in the pit of your stomach tighten like it had at the nightclub. But before you could reach your climax again, Taehyung removed his fingers from inside you. You let out a frustrated cry and then immediately felt horrified by the way you’d been clinging to Taehyung with need. Now that you were face to face, Taehyung had a perfect view of your face fluctuating between desire and guilt. 

“Y/N, don’t look so disappointed in yourself,” he cooed. He leaned down to nuzzle your neck, dipping his hot tongue into your collarbone. “Just think of it this way. Namjoon’s going to benefit from everything I can teach you.” 

That certainly didn’t make you feel better at all, but you had little time to mull over what Taehyung had said. Your thoughts were interrupted by the head of his cock circling your swollen clit. Taehyung swiped his cock back and forth, making your legs shake. 

“I want to hear you beg, baby girl. Tell me how much you need my cock.” 

You bit your tongue and stared up into Taehyung’s blown out pupils. Your brain still wanted to fight him, even in the position you were in. But your body was already gone. 

“Please,” you rasped, the desire to know everything Namjoon had kept from you taking over. “I need your cock, Taehyung.” 

“But how much?” He slipped the head of his cock inside of you and you moaned at the sudden pressure. 

“More than I should,” you panted. 

Taehyung smirked, satisfied with that answer. Slowly, he sunk his cock into your pussy, mindful of the way you tensed when the stretch of his cock seared into your tight muscles. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” A deep, guttural moan fell from his lips once he bottomed out and he could barely contain himself with your heat so tightly sucking him in. “You feel even better than I expected.” 

It took everything in Taehyung’s power to go slow, pulling out until only his head remained inside of you, before easing his way back in again. He maintained that pace with his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head and your legs wrapped around his waist. You cried out at the overwhelming feeling inside of you, every nerve in your body stimulated by the sensual pace. 

He let out a shaky breath in the crook of your neck as you squeezed around his cock. “Good girl. Do that again,” he groaned. 

You swelled at the praise, especially since you hadn’t meant to do anything at all; it’d been natural. You did as you were told and earned another shaky breath from Taehyung. He began to pick up the pace of his thrusting, hips snapping into yours with enough force to make your tits jiggle against his chest. 

Another moan erupted from you, though you tried to hold it in. 

“Don’t act like that. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung flicked his tongue against your earlobe as he growled into your ear. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“I’m gonna come again.” Again, you obeyed, though barely choking out a response. You thought you were on the verge of tears from how good you felt and the overwhelming tension building inside of you. 

“Good girl.” At your confession, Taehyung began thrusting into you even harder, the weight of his body as he pounded into you making the inside of your thighs sore. The consistent thrusts, combined with the drag of Taehyung’s pelvis on your clit, finally pushed you over the edge. You cried into his shoulder, nails digging into his back, as your muscles fluttered around him. 

You weren’t expecting the level of sensitivity you felt as Taehyung continued to thrust into you after you came, but it made you squirm. Maybe this was the part of sex girls didn’t like. It was almost too much for your senses to handle. 

Taehyung couldn’t believe Namjoon was willingly allowing himself to miss out on this. 

“God fucking damn,” Taehyung shuddered, slowly losing the tempo he’d set. He bit your shoulder and sucked your skin into his mouth so hard you yelped. Eventually, his body tensed, and you felt him twitch inside you. 

You closed your eyes, legs still shaking from the new sensations you’d experienced. You could understand why people were so sex-crazed. There wasn’t anything you’d felt like this before, not to mention the way your brain felt a dazed euphoria afterwards. 

That is, until the reality set in about what you’d just done. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Taehyung kissed the hickey he’d sucked into your neck before lifting himself off of you to discard the condom. You’d known Taehyung since your freshman year of high school; his comment made you wonder if he’d longed for you for the entire six years you’d known each other. 

You sat up tenderly, grimacing as you moved your legs. You didn’t want to think about how you were going to feel in the morning. Physically, emotionally. 

Taehyung returned to his bedroom to find you with your bra and underwear on again. 

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” he mused, sitting down on the bed beside you. “A hit and run type of girl, huh?” 

“No! I mean, I don’t know.” How were you to know? You’d always heard that type of person was cruel with other people’s feelings. “I just don’t like being naked.” This was something new you’d learned about yourself. 

Clearly, Taehyung had no issue being naked. He leaned back in all his naked glory and watched you with amused eyes that were so different from the lust-filled smirks he’d given you all night. Maybe an orgasm made him less of a shithead. 

“Why do you hate Namjoon so much?” You’d blurted out the question and immediately regretted it. All amusement from Taehyung’s face melted into a dark look of irritation and you worried he might yell at you. 

“Namjoon is a liar and a manipulator,” Taehyung sneered. He stood up to put his briefs on and caught a quick glance of himself in the mirror to ruffle his hair back into a more put-together look. 

“No he’s not. Namjoon is the nicest-”

“You don’t know what I know,” Taehyung interrupted you. He tossed your shirt and skirt back to you and you appreciated that he made the effort to retrieve them for you, despite his rude accusations against your boyfriend. 

“And what do you know?” You pulled your shirt over your head. 

“He cheated. On everything.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes when you opened your mouth to protest, so you shut your lips very quickly. “Cheated on his homework, all his exams, even the fucking ACT to get into Harvard. Yet he acts like Mr. Perfect all the time.” 

“Why would I even believe you?” The more clothes you had on, the bolder you were getting, apparently. 

“Because me and Jungkook were the ones giving him all the answers.” 

Jungkook? You tilted your head to the side, but Taehyung beat you to your question. 

“My roommate. You know him. You had AP English with us.” Taehyung jabbed his thumb towards the wall which you assumed had Jungkook’s bedroom on the other side. “Namjoon would pay us for it. He was clever, I’ll give him that much. He knew no one would believe a pair of worthless pieces of shit like us if we tried to snitch.” 

You could hear the bitter hurt in Taehyung’s voice; against your better judgment, it tugged at your heartstrings. Why were you believing him? 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Your fingers shook as you pulled on your skirt, eyes pleading with Taehyung to be lying. He had to be lying. 

“Did you know I got a full ride to Dartmouth?” 

You shook your head slowly. That definitely had to be a lie. Taehyung had been one of the worst students at your high school. At least, that’s what Namjoon had said. You never really interacted with Taehyung on a personal level.

“They rescinded my offer when our school notified them that I’d gotten suspended for getting into that fucking fight with your innocent Joonie when Jungkook said he was going to tell everyone about all the cheating,” Taehyung hissed. “I bet Namjoon didn’t tell you that.” 

Your head was spinning from the sudden narrative that fit nothing you’d heard from Namjoon. There was no way any of it was true. 

“How is it that Namjoon walked away from that without so much as a slap on the wrist even though he’d thrown the first punch? His fucking parents paid off the principal. Then they admitted it to my parents later, as an “apology” when they found out Dartmouth let me go.” 

You had gone to a rather expensive private school, so the idea that the administration was corrupt wasn’t that shocking. Still, it didn’t make any sense. Namjoon was so smart; he didn’t need other people to help him achieve anything. 

But there were parts of it that did make sense. It was mean the way Namjoon had a superiority complex, especially when directed at Taehyung who was supposed to be a family friend. And you were reminded of the fact that his first year of Harvard hadn’t been the greatest, but everyone blamed it on the new environment of college. Namjoon just needed time to adjust, right? And now that you thought about it, you remembered having multiple classes with Taehyung - and you were exclusively in APs and Honors. 

When you never responded, Taehyung got up with a sigh. He turned to his favorite way to relieve stress, aside from sex - weed. 

“Do you care?” he asked, lifting up the blunt he was rolling from atop his dresser. 

“No,” you finally spoke. 

Taehyung returned to sit on the bed next to you. He lifted the lighter to the blunt in his mouth, taking a few puffs to get the fire going. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” he said after a few hits. With the blunt pinched between his index finger and thumb, he handed it out to you. You stared at it for a moment, eventually taking it because why the fuck not? You were already screwed. 

“I just find it interesting how he’s always been so concerned about controlling your decisions when you don’t know anything about what he does when you’re not around. But that’s men, right? Can’t trust us.” Taehyung took the blunt from you after you hit it. 

His words made your stomach twist because he’d hit on something you’d never verbalized but had struggled with for a long time: why did Namjoon treat you like you were stupid? The way he treated Taehyung and how he treated you were beginning to feel a bit too similar.  

“You’re not very trustworthy either, are you?” The amused look was back in Taehyung’s face and he swiped his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he smirked. 

“Shut up,” you snapped. 

“Y’know, I thought about telling Namjoon about this.” 

You widened your eyes at Taehyung, the churning in your stomach flipping so badly you felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Taehyung… please…” 

“Don’t worry, baby girl. Your secret is safe with me.” Taehyung crossed his index finger against his chest in an “X”. “I decided I’d have more fun knowing what Namjoon doesn’t.” 

By some evil irony, your phone began vibrating on Taehyung’s nightstand. He took a look at the caller ID and the biggest grin spread across his face as he handed it to you. 

Incoming Call from Joonie💖

“Oh my god,” you whispered, staring up at Taehyung. He was sucking away on the blunt with a twinkle in his eyes, clearly enjoying your panic. 

You had no option but to answer. Apparently, Namjoon had texted you thirty times and had already called you four times. You’d just been too busy getting fucked to notice. 

“Hi Joonie,” you said with as perky of a voice as you could muster. 

“Babe! I was looking at your location, where the fuck are you? Why didn’t you answer me?” 

You slouched, chest caving in as Namjoon’s frustration seeped through the phone. You hated when he raised his voice at you. And of course you’d forgotten that he could see your location on his phone; he’d insisted that you turned on that feature when he went off to college. 

“I’m at my coworker’s. A group of us went out, but she wanted to go back home…” You avoided Taehyung’s gaze, though you knew he had his eyes on nothing but you. 

“Which coworker?” 

“You don’t know her…” You chewed on your lip and prayed Namjoon would let it go. 

But of course he wouldn’t. “Who?” 

“Jackie! She threw up and I’m helping her! I really need to go back to her, but I can call you in the morning, okay?” 

Namjoon was silent for a moment, and you knew you’d crossed a line. You were being pushy with him. Being too independent for your own good. 

“Fine. We will discuss this in the morning.” 

He hung up before you could say anything else. 

“This is all your fault.” You jabbed your finger into Taehyung’s chest, but all he did was grin. Ignoring him again, you frantically texted Jackie, trying to find a way to have her cover for you without bringing up the fact that you’d cheated on your boyfriend. 

“I don’t know why you put up with his shit,” Taehyung mumbled around the blunt and shrugged when you refused to answer him. He probably thought you were being difficult, but in reality you didn’t have an answer for him. Nothing that felt convincing anymore. 

“I need to go.” Your first attempt at standing up was a failure; your legs felt like jelly beneath you. That only added to Taehyung’s amusement, and his already inflated ego. Your second attempt was more successful, and you made your way to Taehyung’s front door without needing help. 

“Do you want me to drop you off?” 

“No,” you snapped. “I’m taking an Uber.” 

“Suit yourself.” Taehyung leaned his shoulder against the wall while you ordered the Uber on your phone. 

You went to open the door, but Taehyung reached out to gently grip your chin. He lifted it up and pressed his lips into yours. Sliding his hand from your chin to the back of your head, Taehyung deepened the kiss. His lips seared into yours, lighting a pulsing heat that spread throughout your body. 

“If you ever need a break from your perfect life with Kim Namjoon, you know where to find me.” And with that, he opened his front door for you to step out. 

You slid into the backseat of the Uber and watched the cityscape through the window, passing by much slower than it had when Taehyung was driving. Looking down, you unlocked your phone to clear out all the messages from Namjoon, too tired to look through whatever he’d had to say. But one message from an unknown number that was sent while you were still at Taehyung’s apartment caught your eye. 

Unknown [1:18] namjoon has no idea how good he’s got it

You stared at the message the entire ride home, and still didn’t know what to say by the time you’d collapsed in your bed. Finally deciding on something, you let out a nervous exhale and hit send. 

[1:34] Go to bed Taehyung

You hadn’t expected an immediate response, but you’d been granted one. 

Unknown [1:34] it would be a lot easier if you were with me 

If you were going to hell, you might as well go all out, right? 

[1:35] Come over then

“Wait.”

Your breath landed hot against the side of Taehyung’s face. You were standing close enough to count the number of freckles and tiny moles that adorned his face and neck, close enough to see his heart beat in his throat. You pressed your fingers against your own pulse, willing it to slow down if only for a moment as you tried to figure out just how the fuck you’d gotten here.

It had started off with a rash decision to go out for the night with your coworkers.

Whatever the trashy nightclub you’d found yourself in was a trip you were forced on against your will. That was something you and Taehyung had in common, the man having only bothered to step foot in the door because his drunken friends had begged him to go out. They were all dropping like flies. August meant his friends would disperse to their prestigious universities to begin sophomore year, and Taehyung would be left in your stupid fucking town to drink alone at overpriced bars and scramble to find whatever job he could get as a kid with a history of jumping ship the moment life got difficult.

At least he had you to chase after, right? His little lamb, too innocent to be scandalized by going to university away from home. While you watched your friends and boyfriend move away for college, you’d chosen to live at home and attend the local university. It was more so your parents’ overprotective tendencies that kept you within arm’s reach. You despised the way your family and boyfriend treated you - like you were some kind of glass doll whose existence was always balancing on the threat of being broken or chipped. What the fuck was so different about you that people felt the need to monitor your every move? Even your boyfriend stared down at you with a patronizing look he thought was loving but only made you feel small, so, so small. 

You’d never had the opportunity to prove yourself, but you knew you weren’t the child they made you out to be. 

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Taehyung had called out after you, and you’d known who it was before you even turned around. You’d been on your way to the bathroom, squeezing past a couple vigorously making out against the wall in the narrow hallway. It was disgusting. 

Taehyung didn’t seem fazed, which didn’t surprise you at all. You’d half expected him to be the one with his tongue shoved down some poor girl’s throat. 

“What do you want?” The harsh words sounded foreign coming from you, but you had three shots of vodka swimming in your veins and you were learning very quickly that you had very little control over your emotions when you were drunk. 

“Can’t I just say hello to an old friend?” His tongue swiped at the corner of his mouth, poking out for just a second before it disappeared again. If you were sober you would have simply walked away, but you were drunk enough to betray yourself. He saw you watch his lips, saw you mirror him and lick your own. 

His eyes lit up every time you met his gaze and a playful smirk danced across his face every time you quickly averted your eyes. 

“You were never my friend.” 

Using both hands you pushed the women’s bathroom door open and disappeared inside. Looking in the mirror was a bit horrifying. All the dancing had royally fucked up your hair and your eyeliner was smeared. Maybe you could pass it off as a smokey eye, but that was a stretch. 

It was while you were leaning over the sink to get a closer look at your face in the mirror that Taehyung slipped through the door. You locked eyes with him through the mirror and gave him an irritated frown. 

“Kim Taehyung, this is the women’s bathroom.” You were scandalized, rightfully so in your opinion. Who did he think he was? 

“I know.”

You held your tongue, trying to remind yourself that a person like Taehyung enjoyed riling people up. The best option was to ignore him, you decided, even though there was a nagging voice inside your head that wanted to ask him what he wanted with you. 

Ignoring him was going to prove to be impossible, though, because the man’s next move was to stand behind you, pinning you between his body and the sink. He tenderly pressed his fingers into your hips, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror as he gauged your response. 

Which was to gasp and quickly turn around to face him. 

“What are you doing?” you whispered, suddenly alarmed by how close your faces were. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and it made goosebumps prickle up your legs. 

“Something I should have done years ago,” Taehyung spoke in an equally soft voice. He leaned forward and you thought he was going to kiss you, but his face dropped lower. He pressed his lips against your neck, right below your jaw. His hot breath made you shiver and the heat you’d felt before began to pool lower and lower… 

Before you could react, the bathroom door flung open and three girls came stumbling in. 

“Ohmygod, I am so sorry we interrupted you,” one girl exclaimed when she saw Taehyung quickly step away from you. 

“Get it girl!” Another girl cheered, nearly tripping on her own heels. 

You glared at Taehyung, becoming even angrier when you saw the smirk he held when he met your gaze. He thought this was fucking funny. 

This could have been your moment to leave, to hurry back to your friends and tell them that you all needed to hit up a different club. But instead you waited for the girls to leave, waited until you were alone again. Why? Because you wanted to know what he wanted? To understand where this was all coming from? Or because you wanted to see what more could happen? 

Once the girls were gone you turned back to Taehyung with liquid courage running through your veins. Worried that the adrenaline wouldn’t last much longer for you to get out what you wanted to say, you dove in hard and fast. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but I don’t appreciate you embarrassing me in front of people I don’t even know. Whatever you want-” 

You were cut off by Taehyung’s hands on your hips swiftly drawing your body against his. He peppered kisses along your neck once again and in the commotion slowly walked you backwards until you were crammed in the nearest stall, door locked. 

“Can’t get embarrassed by strangers if they can’t see you…” he murmured against your skin, picking a spot and sucking down on it, hard. 

“Wait.”

Taehyung lifted his mouth from the now light purple spot painted on the skin of your neck to watch your eyes dart from his face down to his veiny hand hiking up your skirt. The hickey was large and placed too far forward for your long hair to cover it; you’d have to use makeup if you planned on seeing your boyfriend anytime soon.

He stood with his knee in between your legs, his muscular thigh pressed against your core and your back against the stall. If your parents had known you were shoved against the wall in a nightclub with a boy clinging to your neck, they’d have had a heart attack. Especially since it was Kim Taehyung. 

“Jagiya,” Taehyung cooed the pet name, taking your earlobe in between his teeth and tugging lightly. Goosebumps prickled along your forearms and the back of your neck. You’d never been called that before, aside from when your boyfriend whispered it to you when he was trying to convince you not to do something “rash” (read: independent).

“I’m not your jagiya,” you sputtered, hating the way your voice lacked confidence.  Hating how badly you wanted him. Where had that liquid courage gone?

Whereas Taehyung’s voice rumbled along with the heavy bass reverberating in the club, and the sound alone was making you weak at the knees. By this point your thong was uncomfortably wet and it didn’t help that Taehyung’s closeness was making your body heat up even more than the vodka you’d downed earlier in the night.

“Oh? Then tell me you don’t like this…” He pressed his thigh upwards into the heat between your legs while his hand slid around to squeeze your ass, letting out a low hum of satisfaction when he found you were wearing a thong underneath your skirt. “And I’ll stop.”

But you did like it, didn’t you? You thought you’d be angry, angry at him for being so bold as you back you up against the stall and touch you as though you were his. Rather than feel that initial anger, though, you felt excited. It was a nervous excitement that had your hands shaking because you knew it was so, so wrong. 

Never in your life had you done something so bad. Hell, you were the snitch, the goody two-shoes, and everyone knew it! But there was no one to see what you were doing now. 

“Fuck you,” you exhaled, and the expletive made Taehyung’s eyebrows quirk. He’d never heard you curse before. 

“That’s exactly what I want…” 

Your consent was the rock of your hips grinding into his thigh and a small whimper Taehyung could just barely hear over the loud blaring of the club music from outside the restroom doors. It was enough for him, though. He hooked his finger around the edge of your thong, following the path along your hip bones until he got to the crease of your thigh. Pulling the thin material to the side, Taehyung pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, a slow grin forming once he felt how slick you were already. “Good girl.”

You hated the way your breath caught in your throat the moment he praised you, and the way your teeth instinctively drew your bottom lip into your mouth as he stared at you with eyes you were normally too shy to look into. They were impossibly dark and deep, lazy in their hold of your gaze but still sharp enough to shut you up. Speaking was no longer natural, but now a luxury you couldn’t afford.

You were scared of what else you might say.

But Taehyung didn’t give a shit. You’d flown under the radar for most of high school. Even now, when you were all grown up with easily the nicest ass in the whole town and a smile that could dazzle the bitterest of men, you kept your head low and stayed to yourself. The miniskirt Taehyung had bunched around your waist was the most scandalous thing he’d ever seen you wear in the six years he’d known you. 

You never knew he’d been paying attention in the first place. 

Keeping your legs spread apart, Taehyung slipped his middle finger inside of you, expertly curling at just the right spot. As your whimpering grew louder, you gripped Taehyung’s bicep to hold yourself up. Your free hand reached down to palm the hard bulge developing in his jeans, and Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckle at the glint of silver that flashed in the dull bathroom lighting. Your promise ring, exchanged as your boyfriend’s parting gift before leaving for his first semester at Harvard a year ago.

You didn’t notice the look Taehyung gave your hand, instead focused on the way shame was clawing its way across your face, turning your cheeks bright pink. His dark chuckle had pulled you out of your stupor, no longer able to place the blame solely on him. Taehyung had started this, but you’d reached for his jeans on your own.

“Namjoon never touches you like this, does he?”

Taehyung slipped in another finger when you gasped. The stretch of his fingers pumping into your slick entrance made it hard for you to concentrate on what Taehyung was saying. All you could hear was your heart in your throat.

“I bet all he cares about is getting himself off. Or does he always have his nose in a fucking book? You deserve someone to fuck you right.”

You winced at the harsh words hurled towards your boyfriend, but a little voice hummed a song in the depths of your brain. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

Your hand squeezing Taehyung’s cock over his jeans was worse than any rude comments Taehyung could make. 

Taehyung couldn’t remember if the matching promise ring had been what split his lip open when Namjoon punched him in the alley behind school senior year. It was the iron taste in his mouth and your screams ringing in his ears that had stayed behind.

You’d been shocked, really. Senior class president, president of the National Honors Society, winner of your school’s community service award, lead debater on the Mock Trial team - Kim Namjoon was the epitome of brilliance. Physical altercations were far below him; people who were unable to effectively communicate their frustrations weren’t even on the same playing field as him.

And yet there was Namjoon and Taehyung with their limbs tangled as they rolled around in the dirty city streets. Namjoon had thrown the first punch, much to your horror. Apparently, his male ego had finally exploded the moment Taehyung called him a bitch for walking away from an argument about something that had surely been stupid.

Although Namjoon had initiated it, Taehyung had taken it too far. 

He was always taking things too far.

“Mmm, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight. Namjoon hasn’t been hitting it at all, has he?” 

“That’s… That’s none of your business.” Silence didn’t look good on you; your voice came out hoarse and unsteady.

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in mock pity, the slow shake of his head causing his bangs to fall into his eyes.

Your arousal was dripping down his wrist as he continued fingering you, rocking his thigh into you to match with the pump of his fingers. The action made your shoulder blades slide against the wall, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the anticipation building up inside of you, your stomach twisting in pleasure as Taehyung groaned against your pulse in your throat. “Fuck…”

Looking between your bodies you could see the muscles in his forearm flexing as he continued fucking you. Every curl of his fingers against the spongy surface of your g-spot had your whimpers turning into panting, and your shame made you avoid looking him in the eye. Still, he was putting in work as though you were the last time he’d ever touch a woman again.

"Taehyung,” you cried out, meaning for the call of his name to be the moment you finally put an end to whatever this had turned into. But as soon as you opened your mouth, you felt the spring inside of you snap, his name instead coming out as a tattered moan as you convulsed in his arms, creaming his fingers.

He froze, fingers still deep inside you. Your voice was raw and fucked out, throat dry from panting.

“Yes, baby girl?” He looked at you through his bangs, tongue running along his bottom lip as he waited for your body to stop shaking.

The new pet name caused you to squeeze his bicep harder, digging your nails into his skin and eliciting a smirk from the dark-eyed boy.

When, after a moment of silence, you still hadn’t spoken, Taehyung leaned close enough for your chests to press against each other, his lips ghosting yours. It was then that you realized he’d never kissed you, and your chest ached from knowing how badly you wished to close that gap. 

You were surely going to hell. 

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you come?”

Removing his hand from in between your thighs, Taehyung locked eyes with you as he ran his tongue along his fingers, swirling the muscle around to lick his skin clean. The lewdness only made your core ache even more.

Taehyung grabbed your hand from the front of his jeans, bringing your palm flat against his chest. He slid your hand along his pecs, guiding your fingers to caress the side of his neck. You felt goosebumps rise along his skin where he made you touch him. He didn’t let you go until he had wrapped your fingers into the curls at the back of his head.

“Come home with me.” He took your other hand in his, his thumb and index finger playing with your promise ring. “Come over and let me show you what you’re missing.”

His words were almost posed like a question, but you knew he knew the answer already.

That was why his next move was to mirror you, his hand holding the back of your head as his lips finally crashed into yours. It was heavy and fast, and you melted from the way his lips, just as soft as you’d imagined, guided your mouth into rhythm with his. His tongue danced along your lips, the slightest part introducing you to your own taste mixed with alcohol on his tongue.

Taehyung would show Namjoon who the real bitch was when he was balls deep in his girlfriend. 

The moment you opened your front door Taehyung’s hands were gripping your waist and getting tangled in your clothes, all in an effort to pull you close so he could crush his lips against yours. You were nearly suffocating by the time he released you. The two of you watched each other with tired eyes, chests heaving in rhythm. It was then that you noticed he’d changed his clothes, now wearing sweatpants and a hoodie instead of his tight jeans and silk button-up. Despite the downgrade in an outfit, he was just as gorgeous. 

“Hi,” you said once you’d caught your breath, your head ducked down. Were you supposed to thank him for coming over? You shouldn’t have asked to begin with. 

“I didn’t know you still lived with your parents…” 

Taehyung’s eyes roamed the living room, stopping to examine a framed photo of you and Namjoon with your parents on the day of your high school graduation. Taehyung remembered how full your cheeks were as you grinned up at your boyfriend, tugging on the Harvard baseball cap on his head. It was disgusting. 

“Don’t worry. They’re out of town until next weekend.” 

Their week-long absence was the only reason why you could risk going out to the nightclub with your coworkers. Your parents almost forced you to stay with your aunt while they were out of town, but you finally convinced them that being twenty meant you could handle living alone for a week. You couldn’t figure out if they thought you were fragile, incompetent, or both. Probably both. 

“When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” Taehyung mused as he followed you upstairs to the second floor. 

You ignored his comment despite your desire to point out, again, that all of this was entirely his fault. It was never your intention to cheat on Namjoon nor disobey your parents’ rules by having a boy over when they weren’t home. Taehyung had caused this. 

Leading him into your bedroom, you closed the door behind you and flipped the lights off, letting the moon illuminate the room. 

“Left side is mine,” you said quietly as you crawled back into bed. You didn’t want to think too hard about why Taehyung wanted to sleep with you or why you were okay with inviting him over after the night you’d just had. 

Taehyung reached behind his head to pull his hoodie off, dumping it onto the floor beside the bed. You looked away quickly when it was revealed that he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath. As if it even mattered. You’d let him take your virginity less than two hours ago.

Pulling back the blankets, Taehyung slid into bed beside you. He wasted no time snuggling into you, his long arms wrapping around your body and pulling you tightly against his chest. You were sure he could feel your heart pounding against his forearm. 

“You seem like a cuddler,” Taehyung murmured in your ear and the deepness of his voice made your skin prickle. 

You were so tired from staying up late waiting for Taehyung to get to your house that you forgot to close the blinds in your bedroom before the two of you fell asleep. In the morning, the sun’s merciless rays pierced into your eyelids, dragging you out of your deep sleep much earlier that you would have liked. 

Somehow, Taehyung still had an iron grip on your body, both arms wrapped around your waist. His face had that peaceful blankness of a person who was still in deep sleep. Being held so tightly in his arms made you feel warm and secure. No matter how much of an asshole he was or how heavily he leaned onto his cocky attitude to weasel his way into getting what he wanted, Taehyung had treated you with care in arguably the most vulnerable position you’d ever been in. You gave yourself over to him, and although it wasn’t romantic, he’d been mindful. 

Or maybe you were romanticizing the entire situation because Taehyung looked so soft and innocent with his long hair sticking in every direction, his lips slightly parted as he exhaled, his arms occasionally twitching around you. Without the intimidating stare, Taehyung looked unbelievably gentle in his sleep. And he was the one who wanted to sleep with you. To cuddle you. He could have fucked you out of revenge and tossed you to the side for good. 

Yet here he was, on his own accord. The realization made your heart ache. 

You leaned into his body and dreaded the reality that was looming ahead; Taehyung would wake up and you would be merely a name on a long list of girls he’d played. And for you, he would be a defining moment in your life, something that would stay with you until the end. No one forgot who they lost their virginity to. 

The thing was that you didn’t really know the person you’d lost your virginity to. The only things you knew about Taehyung were what Namjoon and the other stuck-up people in your town said about him. You had absolutely nothing personal to go off of, except for what little you remembered from high school. And even then, it wasn’t like you’d spent time with Taehyung. Namjoon made sure of that. 

Besides, Taehyung knew nothing about you. He clearly believed the narrative that you let people walk all over you. (And maybe you did, but that was besides the point.) There was so much more to who you were than Namjoon or your parents or your friends. 

So how was it that a kiss in the bathroom of a nightclub had so quickly led to you breaking what was the most serious, most important promise you’d ever made to someone? How could you cheat on your boyfriend of nearly five years with a man you barely knew after he gave you the slightest bit of attention? 

How could it have been so easy? 

The violent buzzing of your phone against the wood nightstand beside your bed made your body jolt. At first you thought it was Taehyung’s phone, but when you flipped over your phone you took one look at the screen and felt your heart drop to the floor.

Incoming FaceTime from Joonie💖

“Oh my god,” you spouted quickly, snatching your phone from the nightstand. Apparently that was all you could say when you received calls from Namjoon now. You quickly sat up in bed, smoothing your hands over your hair to make sure it looked decent. 

“What’s going on?” Taehyung’s sleepy voice made you want to scream for the way it sent vibrations down into your core. This was not the time. 

“Namjoon is FaceTiming me.” You thought he said he would call you, as in a phone call. No video required. 

Taehyung blinked a few times and scrunched his eyebrows at you. Rather than send some snarky comment your way, he let his raised head collapse back onto his pillow again. 

“Please don’t let him know you’re here.” Your anxiety was too strong to believe this seemingly uncharacteristic reaction from a man who loved to rile people up. It was all you could ask before you accepted your boyfriend’s FaceTime call. 

“Good morning, Joonie!” Your voice came out dry despite the energy you attempted to pump into yourself. 

Namjoon slid his glasses from the bridge of his nose up into his hair, letting them rest on his head as he rubbed at the dark bags beneath his eyes. You felt your chest tighten at the sight of his tired expression. Everyone thought things would be so easy, for him and for the two of you as a couple. 

It just went to show the danger of making assumptions. 

“How did you sleep?” 

You held his gaze through the phone even when you felt Taehyung shift beside you. 

“Like a baby,” you said with a toothy smile. 

“Even after going partying last night?” Namjoon adjusted on the screen and you could see more snippets of his background. It looked like he was in his dorm, sitting at his desk. You wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all. 

If he hadn’t, would it be because of school or you? 

“I wasn’t partying…” Your gaze faltered, eyes fleeting your phone for a moment. It was the wrong move, though. You found Taehyung watching you with his head propped up by his hand and his elbow supported by the pillow. 

“It definitely sounded like it.” Namjoon’s sharp tone brought you back to your phone. He’d always been against partying. It seemed his only vice was the high you imagined he got from being better than everyone else. 

“Everyone wanted just a drink or two. Jackie was the one who went all out.” Poor Jackie, having all the blame put on her for something she didn’t even do. 

“I thought we agreed that wasn’t something we wanted to do? Why aren’t you hanging out with Sabina and Lily?” 

You had to stop yourself from scowling at the two women’s names. Sabina and Lily were easily the most pretentious people you knew. Two popular girls from high school, their idea of fun was quite literally book clubs and tea parties - as twenty-somethings! But keeping a calm face mattered little when Namjoon heard the snort that Taehyung let out when Sabina and Lily were mentioned. You coughed into your arm to distract from the disruption. 

“What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes. 

“Nothing! I just feel like I’ve outgrown my friendship with them, that’s all.” 

Namjoon hummed at this, perhaps realizing that it was possible for things to have changed since he was last home. “We’ll have to get together when I’m back for fall break.” 

Lovely.

“Okay,” you said with a nod and no interest in pushing back. “You look tired… have you been sleeping well?” 

Namjoon sighed and shot you an irritated look. “Not when I have to worry about whatever you’re doing when I’m gone.” 

It hurt so much more knowing Taehyung was watching and listening. 

“I think you need to go to bed, okay? Take a nap.” You wanted nothing but for this conversation to be over with. 

Namjoon was silent for a moment, eventually mumbling an agreement. The two of you said your I love you’s and goodbyes, but you felt as empty as the reflection that stared back at you from your phone when you ended the call. 

“He’s a dick and you know it.” With the coast clear, Taehyung sat up in bed. “He’s so insecure he bullies you into doing what he wants to make himself feel better.”

You pressed your fingers against your mouth and bit down on your nails. Did Namjoon bully you? Or were you just being difficult? It wasn’t like trusting Taehyung’s perspective made much sense at all. But the longer you sat there with Taehyung and Namjoon’s words cycling in your head, the hotter your face grew. Your breathing became rapid and your eyes started to prickle at the corners. Sometimes you felt like you didn’t know who you were. Like the only things that kept you in place were your relationships with your parents and Namjoon. The moment you stepped away from that, tried to live a normal life with normal people, everything fell apart. 

Taehyung must have noticed your body’s response because he placed a hesitant hand on your arm. Somehow it made you feel worse. 

“You need to leave.” Although you hoped your words would come out strong, your voice cracked as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You swiped your fingers across your cheek, but you knew you could do nothing but ride the wave until you ran dry. 

Taehyung removed his hand from your arm. He sat still, as if he was waiting for you to change your mind. But when the only sounds that came from you were shuddering sobs, he finally pulled his hoodie on and made for the door. 

He paused to lean against the doorframe and the image of you teary-eyed with blankets strewn around you was seared into his brain like a brand. This wasn’t how he’d thought his decision to seduce you was going to end. 

“Like I said, you know where to find me.”

He could still hear you crying as he made his way down the stairs, even so far as when he shut the front door. 

If Taehyung was correct and Namjoon really was insecure, you’d just given him a hell of a lot more to be insecure about. 

The sound of your phone going off once again made your heart burst into a thousand shards, but the notification wasn’t from Namjoon. 

KT [8:49] lmk if you need anything

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to.

By Wednesday you realize you’re halfway through your last week of freedom before your parents return home. It’s funny how you had the world at your fingertips, yet you continued to live life as you normally would, minding your responsibilities and staying out of trouble - the past weekend being enough trouble for a lifetime. 

But most importantly, it’s Wednesday evening and you sat with your forehead resting on the steering wheel of your car in the parking lot of your therapist’s office. It seemed like effort to carry your body up the stairs to the front door, though you operated on muscle memory when you punched the code into a keypad and the front door clicked. The night janitors watched you with hungry eyes as you tiptoed down the carpeted stairs, past mop buckets in open-doored bathrooms and vacuum cleaners. 

A woman in a business suit slipped on her peacoat and smiled at you as she left her office. Did she know which room you’re waiting for? Did she know who her officemates were? 

Every other Wednesday evening you wait in the green chair at the end of the hall, molding into fake leather, and stare at the staircase you came from. Therapy wasn’t your idea; your father had gotten tired of your “incessant attitude” and your mother had gotten tired of your father getting tired of you. Family therapy was out of the question. There was no way your father was ever going to admit that he needed help from anyone. 

You just wanted everyone to leave you alone. Yet, as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a new text notification. After your fight, Namjoon had become sporadic with his texts. He typically ignored you during large fights, only texting maybe once or twice a day. Sometimes it depressed you; sometimes you preferred it. Like right now, sighing to unlock your phone and read the message. 

KT [5:34] how you doing?

The heat that flashed across your chest and neck was embarrassing, but no one was around to see the way you bit your lip as you read Taehyung’s text message. What did it say about you that it was a welcomed surprise when you’d assumed you would be faced with a text from Namjoon demanding to know what you were doing? It wasn’t your fault that no one but Taehyung was bothering to check in on you. Real friends were few and far between; it had always been that way for you.

“Ready, Y/N?” 

Your therapist suddenly appeared in the hallway wrapped in a thick cardigan. She led you down the hall to her office, a small windowless room lit by dim lamps casting a yellow-orange hue through the room. You typically spent the beginning of your session venting to Brynn about whatever was on your mind, but today she noticed that you seemed much quieter than usual. Towards the end of your session, Brynn sat her notepad down on the end table beside her chair. 

“I know we’ve been meeting for quite some time now, Y/N.” She wrapped herself tighter in her cardigan and you wished you had something to keep you safe, too. “And I’ve been thinking, what is it that you want?” 

Brynn rarely asked you such heavy, open-ended questions like that. She normally asked you how you felt about things because, as Taehyung so astutely caught onto, you had trouble speaking up for yourself. Even venting to your therapist was a struggle sometimes. 

But to ask something like this? You felt stupid, mouth agape, the gears completely halted in your brain. 

What did you want? 

Did she mean out of therapy? Out of life? She watched you with eyes that made you question if she knew what to say, either. 

“I…” You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with her as you answered truthfully. “I don’t know what I want.” 

You thought you were a fairly introspective person, so you knew that Brynn kept quiet because she wanted the long silence to encourage you to continue talking. It was an effective tactic, as much as you hated it. Though your energy quickly gave out, and you found your eyes wandering to other parts of the room. 

“I just want to be happy,” you finally spoke again, a sigh leaving you as your shoulders slumped inward. “I don’t need a perfect life. Everyone thinks I need to have a perfect life, but I just want to have a happy life. And I don’t really know how to accomplish that.” You picked at a loose string hanging from your dress and contemplated pulling it though you knew it might create a hole. 

“Is there anything you think you can change right now that might help you get closer to what a happy life would look like for you?” Brynn tucked one of her long braids behind her ear; it had fallen from the bun she’d elegantly twisted at the top of her head. “Even if it’s something that may seem small?” 

An image of Namjoon immediately flashed before your eyes, but you swiftly shooed that away inside your mind. That was too much for you right now. 

“This might sound stupid, I don’t know.” You drew your legs up to cross them underneath you on the plush couch. “I feel like a lot of my stress would lessen if I could just tell my mom ‘no’ more often.” You wrapped the loose string around your finger and pulled. 

“That’s not stupid at all. If anything, it’s very brave.” 

There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, you thought. 

“Your mother cannot dictate your life, Y/N. It’s unhealthy.” Brynn leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap. Her wedding ring sparkled in the light, and you looked down at Namjoon’s promise ring still adorning your finger. “But you already know that.” 

You nod silently, bringing your gaze back to your therapist’s eyes. They were dark brown, nearly black, and the softest eyes you’d ever seen.

“I want you to start thinking about small ways you can take agency over your relationship with your mother, okay? Nothing super serious, but little things. Do you think you can do that?” 

“I think so,” you said with another nod. “She’s always dragging me around to her events when she knows I hate them.” Your father was a partner of his own private law firm, so your mother had the pleasure of being a housewife who spent all her time going to charity events and volunteering. Because helping others had better optics than paying attention to her own kid. If you could just be yourself, separate from her, that would be a step in the right direction. 

“It might be hard, but I know you can do this,” Brynn said with a warm smile. “Eventually your mother will have to come into contact with the fact that she is not loving you the way that you need her to.” 

And then it was time to go.

You liked to think you weren’t always so pathetic, although you were starting to wonder if that was because you’d simply ignored the red flags in your relationships with your parents and Namjoon. Even Sabina and Lily, though that was mostly because they were boring. Regardless, it was Taehyung’s fault for thrusting you into this situation. Everything would have been fine if he hadn’t fucked it all up. You weren’t willing to acknowledge that this certainly wasn’t just Taehyung’s fault, that it took two to tango. In your eyes, you were merely a victim to his personal vendetta against your boyfriend. A vendetta that wasn’t going to end any time soon. 

“You know where to find me.” You slammed your palm into the dough on your kitchen counter. The loud thud echoed through your parents’ empty house. “Why would he say that?” 

Another slam. 

“Pull yourself together. You’re better than this. Boys are pointless.” 

You attacked the dough with a rolling pin, pushing down into the counter so hard that you rolled the dough entirely too thin and had to start over. Puffs of flour permeated the air around your face as you sprinkled more onto the counter to prevent sticking. 

“Oh my god, they are so pointless! Why am I even dating anyone?!” 

It took running the dough through your KitchenAid pasta attachment before the epiphany hit you. Here you were, fighting with homemade pasta and talking to yourself about boys like you were insane. At this moment your life couldn’t even pass the Bechdel test. Yet, despite that realization, you couldn’t help but keep your phone nearby in case one of the two boys plaguing your life popped up on the screen. Both names brought you anxiety, but only one was exciting. 

A week had gone by since you’d seen Taehyung. In that amount of time, you’d baked three cakes and two sheets of brownies, made four different types of pasta, and only stepped foot outside the house once to buy more ingredients. You were pretty sure Brynn said your obsession with baking had something to do with your desire to have control over something in your life, but you couldn’t remember. You had too many other things clouding your brain. 

Taehyung now texted you every day. It was weird, partially because he was supposed to be a moment’s mistake, a blip on an otherwise spotless life’s map. It was also weird because Namjoon’s constant text conversations quickly died down. Staying silent wasn’t unusual behavior for him when he was mad, but you normally felt quiet and alone during those moments. This time you still had someone other than Jackie or Sabina and Lily to send photos of cakes to or to update on whatever annoying thing your mom did. 

[6:01] What do you think about the cakes? KT [6:45] damn are you gonna feed me too?  [6:50] If you want some! The brownies are really good KT [7:11] oh i was meaning something else [7:14] ………. Stop 🙃 KT [7:35] just fucking with you. they look really dope, honest KT [7:42] i’m jealous of your talent. my mom used to bake all my birthday cakes. she’d make these like fucking wild cakes super tall and sometimes in different shapes. like she was sculpting art or something

You leaned your forearms against the kitchen counter and used your pinky finger to type a response since your hands were covered in dough. It was more difficult than you thought, but not because of the state of your hands. No, it was because Taehyung had started sharing pieces of his life with you that you didn’t have the courage to bring up in real life. Like his mother. You knew she’d passed right after your high school graduation. While you hadn’t kept tabs on Taehyung, news like that traveled quickly in a town like yours. It didn’t take much to know that he had been absolutely devastated. 

But with each passing day it became easier to distance yourself from what happened at the nightclub. Namjoon’s supposed cheating scandal was nothing anyone else in your life spoke about. Taehyung became a text bubble rather than an affair and you could pretend that you didn’t wake up every morning remembering the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

KT [7:52] i’ll pick you up at 8:30? [7:53] Ok [7:53] Please don’t park in the driveway KT [8:00] don’t worry. i won’t give your neighbors something to gossip about

Sure, it was easy to simplify Taehyung down to a text bubble… until he was standing at your front door again, looking down at you through dark eyelashes. You could pretend that he was a figment of your imagination… until he was sitting at your kitchen table, long legs bumping into the other chairs while he waited for you to finish tidying up your pasta mess. 

“I don’t know if I want to go.” You untied your apron and placed it on the hook near the pantry. A few dishes were left in the sink, but at least the counter was wiped down. 

“Baby girl backing out on me after I already got dressed up for her?” Taehyung fiddled with the diamond bracelet on his wrist and didn’t look at you as he spoke. You wondered where he got the money to buy something so expensive. 

“Someone might see…” 

His gaze met yours and you noticed that he was wearing contacts that made his naturally brown eyes a soft gray. Something about them made him look predatory. 

“Trust me, no one who’s gonna be there cares about you or Namjoon.” 

You felt your face heat up and you quickly turned away from him to hide your face. 

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You waved it off because that’s easier than being reminded that the world you’d grown up in, one that revolved around you, your family’s wealth, and crafting the most perfect future for you - none of that was real. Taehyung belonged to real life, the part of the world that didn’t give a shit about what social gathering you went to or what grades Namjoon was getting at Harvard. You were hovering in a liminal space. No matter how outstretched your arms were, your fingers would never grasp anything.

“Look at me.” 

Taehyung stood up and grabbed your chin, forcing your face to his. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched his eyes fall to your parted lips and your chest shuddered as you tried to breathe in again. 

“I just need to get dressed,” you whispered. 

Even when Taehyung let you go, you lingered for a few moments. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, the leather squeaking as the material rubbed together. He smelled oaky, like smoke and spice. 

It took all of your self-control to leave him in the kitchen and climb the stairs to your bedroom. If it wasn’t bad enough that you’d continued communication with Taehyung for the past week, you were now hammering the final nail in your coffin when you’d agreed to go to his friend’s birthday party with him. What had started as an innocent conversation about how you always wanted to see what rooftop bars were like turned into Taehyung inviting you out to one. 

Yet another experience he could give you that Namjoon refused to. 

After doing your hair and makeup, you returned to the kitchen wearing a powder blue babydoll dress. It had hung unworn in your closet for months, maybe even a year. Your mother hated when you wore dresses that just barely covered your ass, and Namjoon didn’t like when other men stared at you. 

Neither of them were here, though. And the way Taehyung looked at you when you stepped into the room was enough to make you forget whatever your mother and Namjoon thought about you. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Taehyung murmured, taking your hand in his. He lifted your arm above your head to guide you into a twirl for him, and you felt bashful under his gaze. You thought you saw a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. 

“Maybe we should skip the party and let me bend you over the fucking table instead.” Of course, he opened his mouth again, and you were reminded that this was Taehyung you were talking to. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” You pulled your hand from his grip, but Taehyung had you backed against the counter. 

“Looks like someone’s learning to speak up, yeah?” He held the edge of the counter on either side of your body. “I’m so proud.” 

Leaning forward, he kept you caged in his arms and leveled his face to be in line with yours. You were reminded of him meeting you at the nightclub a week prior, his body pressing yours up against the bathroom counters, his tongue grazing your neck. Heat began to pool within your core as you stared into his gray eyes and tried not to pay attention to how close your faces were. 

Taehyung licked his lips, but didn’t make a move. “Ready to go?”

The rooftop bar was a lot nicer than you’d anticipated. It had a lovely view of downtown and the bar itself was much classier than you’d expected. Maybe you’d underestimated Taehyung. Maybe he wasn’t as tactless as people said he was. 

“Taehyungie!” 

The moment you stepped out of the elevator, Taehyung was swarmed by a hive of his friends, the only of which that was familiar to you was Jungkook. You recognized him from his eyes and his smile, though a lot had changed about his appearance. No longer was he the scrawny high school kid you remembered, and the tattoos and piercings were an additional bonus as far as you were concerned. 

Could Namjoon have really gotten into Harvard through cheating off of him, too? 

Banishing the idea from your mind, you followed Taehyung through the seating area of the bar until you reached the balcony. The late summer air warmed your exposed skin, much more skin than you were used to showing off. It was quickly clear that Taehyung’s friends were going to monopolize his time. You lost sight of him in the crowd of people floating between the bar and the balcony. 

He’d been right. No one cared that you were there. Hardly anyone gave you a passing glance, even when the majority of the people who were there were people you’d grown up with and gone to school with. The only person who bothered to say hello was Jungkook, and the way he smiled at you with a twinkle in his eyes made you feel like he knew why you were there. 

You hadn’t quite thought any of this through, though that was becoming a common theme with you the past week… Knowing your parents would return home the next day made you feel as though you needed to do something with your last night of freedom. Standing alone at a rooftop bar with a mojito in hand as you stared out into the night sky wasn’t exactly what you thought your last night of freedom would look like, but it was better than sitting at home staring at your ceiling. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when a girl approached you. You took a step to the side to give her room to stand beside you against the balcony railing, but you kept your gaze on the cityscape until she spoke up. 

“You’re Y/N, right?” 

You nodded in response and almost immediately heard Taehyung’s voice in the back of your mind. Speak up.

“I’m Camille, but everyone calls me Angel.” 

The girl flipped her long hair out of her face as a gust of wind blew past. With her face clear, you noticed that she had her cheeks pierced. Intricate tattoos snaked up both of her arms and when you glanced down you saw a pinup girl tattooed onto her upper thigh. All the body modifications reminded you of Jungkook. 

“I saw you came with Tae.” 

You weren’t sure where this was going, but you didn’t like the snotty look she was giving you. “I did.” 

“You don’t really look like his type,” she said after a moment, giving your body a once over. Her comment caught you off guard. You probably should have ended it there, but curiosity got the better of you. 

“Well, what’s his type?” 

Angel parted her lips to show large bright teeth. Tiny diamonds were embedded into her canines.

“Me.” 

“Angel!” 

You raised your eyes to see Taehyung make his way towards the two of you from across the bar. Squeezing in between you and Angel, he leaned his forearm against the balcony railing and gave his head a light shake to jostle his bangs out of his eyes. Guilt raked at your chest for how his sudden presence made your cheeks even warmer than the summer night air and you wanted to cling to him, to keep him close though you knew it was so much more likely for him to go. 

“JK said you needed a lighter?” 

“And a joint, if you’re willing to share with your favorite girl.” Angel batted her eyelashes at Taehyung and you hated the way he grinned in response. 

“I got the bubblegum papers you like.” Taehyung pulled a cigarette packet you hadn’t noticed from his back pocket. He plucked a joint out before returning the packet to his jeans. 

The way Angel placed the joint between her lips was far more theatrical than it needed to be, and you didn’t even know anything about smoking weed. She stuck her plump lips out as she held the joint up to Taehyung so he could light the end of it for her. After she winked at him was when you finally looked away. 

“Do you wanna smoke, Y/N?” Taehyung now had his own joint held between his fingers. Angel snorted at his question, not bothering to look at you. 

“Oh she doesn’t seem like the type, Tae.” Angel smirked around the joint. 

“Nah, we’ve smoked together before.” Taehyung dipped down to brush his lips against your ear. “Haven’t we, baby girl?” he asked softly. 

You shivered despite the warm air and fluctuated between wanting Angel to have heard him and being terrified that she might have. Never in your life had you ever had someone treat you the way Angel was now. You took a step towards Taehyung, trying to use him as a shield from her.  

“Mhmm, we have…” you matched his quiet tone, unable and unwilling to look away from him despite feeling Angel’s glare burning into you. 

Thankful that he wasn’t about to force you to embarrass yourself in front of this bitch, who you were pretty sure at this point was one of Taehyung’s notorious fuckbuddies, you watched Taehyung hold the joint in his mouth as he lit it. His cheeks sucked in as he took a hit, and you were mesmerized by how the action accentuated the sharpness of his jaw and his cheekbones. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed together when he pulled the joint away, lips still puckered. Turning towards you, he grabbed the back of your head. 

“Open your mouth.” The command came out gruff as he inhaled more air, not letting a wisp of smoke escape his mouth. 

You obeyed him, parting your lips just as Taehyung aligned his with yours. He exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you quickly breathed in what you could. The brush of his lips against yours felt like an electric shock bolting straight to your core. Having never done this before, you kept your eyes wide open as Taehyung breathed into you. His eyes were closed, his expression soft and concentrated. The smoke didn’t burn as badly as you thought it would, perhaps because Taehyung had taken the brunt of it for you. His tongue flicked across your bottom lip before he pulled away. 

He tipped his head back slightly to look at you as he brought the joint back to his lips, taking a drag while watching you with hooded eyes. You opened your mouth and the smoke that gently unfurled from you made Taehyung’s expression waver. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue along your bottom lip where Taehyung had done the same thing, tasting the smoke and subtle taste of bubblegum. It wasn’t until he made a low hum that you realized you’d been staring right at Taehyung as your tongue wet your lips. 

“Where are you going after this, Tae?” Angel made sure to remind you both that she was still there. 

Taehyung handed you the joint before addressing her. “Probably to go blow Y/N’s back out at her place, why?” 

You immediately choked on the smoke you’d just inhaled. All you had was your mojito to ease your sore throat, but the sting of the rum and mint didn’t do much to calm you. 

“Fuck you. You’re such a piece of shit.” Angel flicked ash from her joint over the balcony railing. “I always liked Jungkook more than you, anyway. His dick is bigger and he actually knows how to fucking use it.” 

You nearly dropped your mojito over the edge, and your mouth definitely dropped to the floor. The way Angel flipped like a lightswitch was just as surprising to you as the vulgar words that flew out her mouth. 

“I’ll remember that next time you text me to dick you down when JK’s not free, Camille!” Taehyung shouted back as the girl walked away. He barked out a laugh when she flipped him off over her shoulder. 

“She does this at least once a month,” Taehyung snickered, turning his attention back to you. His unbothered response shocked you, though it shouldn’t have. Just like it shouldn’t have made you feel sick to your stomach to hear him talk about fucking someone else. 

“She sounds lovely.” You shoved the joint at Taehyung and averted your gaze, opting to go back to watching the city lights blink in the darkness. 

Wearing your heart on your sleeve was something you had no control over, no matter how many times your emotions made others judge you. Cry baby, weak, childish - you’d heard it all. You regretted spending the night alone, only to have your main social interaction revolve around Taehyung’s sex life. Every time you moved forward it was just another misstep. You felt the anger and embarrassment bubble inside of you, but you couldn’t cry no matter how hard you tried to relax your body. It was like your mind shut off that part of your brain, drying up the reservoir. All you could think was that it was the weed stopping up your emotions. You were starting to feel the gentle floating sensation you felt when your brain became clouded. 

“Don’t worry about her. She talks tough, but she’s got nothing to back it up.” Taehyung spoke between hits. “But if you’re gonna ditch me for Big Dick Jungkook… then we’re gonna have a problem.” 

“I don’t want Jungkook…” Your eyes roamed his face, taking in the sharp outline of his jaw, the little moles on the tip of his nose and just beneath his eye, the perfect bow of his lips. You could look at him for eternity and still find something new to spark your interest. 

“Do you want me?” 

Your eyes shot back up to Taehyung’s, but it was clear that he’d noticed how your gaze lingered on him. It was impossible to ignore the palpitations of your heart when he murmured such a thick question just loud enough for you to hear. If you said yes, there was no going back. There was no way to shift blame. Maybe the first time was a mistake, but the second time with Taehyung was a choice. 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

Taehyung hummed again, bringing the joint to your lips. You opened your mouth for him and when his fingers brushed against your lips as you closed them around the joint you felt it down to your toes. 

“Guess I should give princess what she wants.” 

If you weren’t sucking on weed, you might have gotten upset at the way his tone sounded a bit condescending, like all the other men who’d ever called you princess. Like you were some kind of spoiled brat. You were beginning to realize your greatest source of frustration: you hated when people acted like they knew you. 

If you’d ever told that to Taehyung, he would have agreed. But you were high and a little bit buzzed from your mojito, so you let it slide because the feeling of him calling you a new pet name had your body tingling more than it had you angry. 

Taehyung reached up to grab the now finished joint from your mouth, using his thumb to pull down your bottom lip and let you exhale the smoke. With his thumb still pressed against your lip, he brought his mouth to yours.  

He tasted like heady smoke and vodka, just as he had when you’d first kissed. The marijuana in your system made your body feel like water flowing through Taehyung’s hands. The moment you felt his grip on your waist you were at his mercy. He reached around to slip his hand beneath your dress and palm your ass, giving it a light slap that sent you moaning into his mouth. His complete disregard for the fact that the two of you were surrounded by his friends and other bar patrons only made you more excited. 

“Tae,” you moaned, his nickname rolling off your tongue with desperation. Part of you hated how natural it felt. “Tae.” You gripped the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer to you with your head tilted back to kiss him as deeply as you possibly could. 

“I’m taking you home right now. And I’m gonna fucking devour you,” he growled into your ear. You felt his words strike electricity into your veins and send your skin prickling with goosebumps. He intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you through the crowd, only stopping to give Jungkook a hearty slap on the back in goodbye.

Taehyung pulled you against him as you waited for the elevator and you wondered if the anxiety you’d felt about going out with him was really necessary. Being so high meant you hadn’t even considered that someone from the party could tell people about the two of you being there together. 

“Why are you acting like this?” you asked, staring up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. “Why are you being so open?” 

He bit his lip in thought for a moment, as though he needed to decide if he was going to say anything at all. 

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d show you off every chance I got.” No smirk or laugh accompanied the statement; it was clear Taehyung wasn’t taunting you. The genuinity of his confession made you squeeze his hand, but you didn’t know what you were trying to do. 

The moment the elevator doors closed he had you crushed against his chest again, his lips leaving hickeys like hot brands against your neck and along your collarbones. 

“Tae, you’re going to leave marks…” you protested feebly and you both knew you didn’t actually care. 

“That’s the point,” Taehyung said with a smirk. At the ding of the elevator doors opening on the ground floor, he took the lead toward the building’s exit. 

Déjà vu had you reliving the hurried walk to Taehyung’s car, although this time he didn’t interrogate you about giving road head as he sped through the empty city streets. Instead he was silent, jaw set as he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. This time it was you toying with him, your hand sneaking over to squeeze his hard cock through his jeans. By the time he reached your house the look in his eyes was anything but sane. 

The moment you were inside your parents’ house with the front door locked behind you, Taehyung had fists full of your hair and your silky dress, shoving you up against the wall with a force that made your body shudder. With shaky hands you reached to slide off the straps of your dress, but he stopped you. 

“No, keep it on.” 

He watched you with eyes heavy from being high, his drooping eyelids only making him look that much more alluring. Sliding his leather jacket off his shoulders, he tossed it to the floor and then followed it, dropping to his knees in front of you. Every touch was amplified so much that simply having his fingers brush along your calf as he lifted your leg to drape over his shoulder had you trembling. 

Taehyung pulled your thong to the side and pushed your dress up. He brought your hands to the material to have you hold your dress around your waist. It was a given that everything Taehyung did with you would be new since you had no other sexual experience, but you had enough common sense to know that his aura dripped with such intense sex appeal you could barely think straight as you peered down at him. It didn’t matter that you were dating Namjoon; there was nothing in your head but Taehyung. 

The inside of your thighs glistened with your arousal, but you were too lost in your desire to even be embarrassed. Without a word, he plunged his tongue into your folds and you immediately screamed. Now you understood why marijuana was an aphrodisiac; your entire body trembled as Taehyung slathered his tongue through your folds, his breath hot against your skin already burning up. Even the tiniest of licks against your clit would have had your head rolling back, and Taehyung was full on lapping up your juices like it was his last meal. 

“T-T-Tae,” you stuttered, long drawn out, high-pitched whimpers exhaled in between syllables. 

“Mmm hmm?” he hummed against you. With a firm grip on your thigh he held you open wider so he could angle his head to better work his jaw against you. The hallway echoed with sloppy slurps and groans from the sinful man between your thighs. There wasn’t enough air in the world that could stop you from gasping as black dots speckled your eyesight. Were you even remembering to breathe? 

Your hands shot down to grab a hold of his wavy hair and your legs nearly gave out when you saw those stormy gray eyes staring back at you. When you tugged on his hair he let out a low moan, nearly a growl, into your pussy. Every hum and growl spread a shocking warmth throughout your body, and when you blinked you saw lights dance across your eyelids. Taehyung dragged his tongue flat against you, holding your gaze as he slowly lapped at your folds until he finally pulled away with a smack of his lips.  

“I forgot no one’s ever eaten you out before,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against your lower lips. “It’s a shame. You taste better than any other pussy I’ve ever had.” 

The validation made your ego swell with pride, and you couldn’t help but think of Angel’s cocky behavior. It was unwarranted, clearly. Taehyung only wanted you. 

“Tae, please.” 

“Please what?” He slowly dragged his tongue up the inside of your quivering thigh, eyes still locked with yours. 

“Please keep going.” 

You could feel your arousal trickle down your leg and Taehyung noticed it too. He repeated his previous action, this time licking up your wetness to clean you up. He let out a low moan and gave you a wet kiss against the crease of your thigh that made you squeal. 

“Goddamn,” he murmured. He grabbed your ass to pull you forward against his face. You pressed your hand into the wall for support, the one leg planted onto the ground beginning to tremble once again. There was no way you were walking out of this the way you came in; Taehyung was on his way to ruin you for every single person who came after. 

He swirled his tongue around your clit and gave it a few small sucks, testing out your reaction to the suction. Then to your surprise, he pulled away from your clit and began circling your entrance with his tongue. He plunged into your entrance, fucking you with his tongue while his nose repeatedly brushed against your clit. 

“Oh my god, Tae,” you cried, throwing your head back against the wall. “Yes, yes, yes, please- baby, it feels so good.” 

“Yeah, baby girl? You like when I fuck you with my tongue?” Hearing the pet name you’d called him, Tae moaned into you, grinding his face against you harder since he knew you were too shy to fuck his face on your own. He only pulled away out of necessity to breathe, panting heavily as he stared up at you. “Fuck, jagiya. You’re so fucking sexy.” 

He returned his mouth to your clit, his face glistening with your arousal and his fingers replacing his tongue. He pumped two fingers into you, curling against your front wall as he continued to suck your clit. It was enough to make the band inside you finally snap. 

“I’m, I’m, oh god, Tae, please,” you cried, desperately searching for the words to warn him, but it was too late; you were already convulsing. Taehyung held you up with his shoulder and free hand tight on your hip as shockwaves of pleasure jolted through your body, and you screamed his name loud enough for it to echo through the empty house.  

When Taehyung stood, his face was glowing a light pink tone beneath his honey skin and his lips were red and swollen. Your fervent gripping of his hair made the wavy locks stick out in directions, and he was still the most radiant person you’d ever seen in your life. You’d never been particularly drawn to sex, perhaps because Namjoon made it clear that the two of you would keep your morals. But Taehyung had unlocked something primordial inside of you. Panting with need couldn’t even begin to accurately describe the way your entire being ached for him. 

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, not even caring that it was sloppy and wet and his mouth was covered in your cum. 

“Can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your lips. Taehyung lifted you up by your thighs to carry you into the kitchen, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Your exposed pussy dragged along the hem of his jeans, tickling your sensitive clit. Clearly he felt some type of way about his comment from earlier because he stood you up in front of your kitchen table. Your parents’ kitchen table.

“Put your leg up here and bend your knee.” 

He helped you hike your leg on to the table to open you up wider for him as he bent you over the table. Your chest was pressed flat against the cool wood and you were on your tiptoes with one leg that still stood on the ground. 

You adjusted so your dress was pushed around your waist, but Taehyung didn’t bother to remove your thong, choosing to keep it pulled to the side. You heard the buckle of his belt being undone and you lifted your head to look back to see him push his jeans down his thighs to expose his veiny cock. He still wore his form-fitting black t-shirt that hugged his biceps nice and snug. 

“Lay down, jagiya,” he cooed, running his hand along your back. “Relax for me.” Once he reached your head he dug his fingers into your hair, pushing you forward so you couldn’t look at him anymore. You heard the rip of something plastic, Taehyung using his teeth to tear open the condom he’d retrieved from his wallet. 

You felt him slide the head of his cock along your soaked pussy on display for him. Every time you sat down for meals with your parents you were going to think about him fucking you senseless and no one else would even know. 

You were so fucked. 

“Know how much I missed this?” Taehyung leaned against your back with his hands pressed flat on the table on either side of you. He left a hot kiss against the side of your neck, swirling his tongue around one of the prominent hickeys he’d left on your skin. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you, baby girl, and that pretty little pussy.” 

Were you meant to trust him? Did you want to? Did it matter?

“Then fuck me, Taehyung,” you whined. 

“Y’know, I’m starting to like you getting bossy,” he said with a smirk before straightening up to line himself with your entrance. Slowly, he eased into you until his pelvis was flat against your ass. The discomfort was less extreme this time, and it helped that you were literally trembling with how turned on you were. You let out a loud whimper as Taehyung thrusted into you with long, slow strokes. He was taking his time, savoring the feeling of you squeezing his cock every time he hit your g-spot. 

“You might be Namjoon’s, but this pussy is mine,” Taehyung growled. The way you clenched around his cock was everything he needed to know that what he said was true. 

“I wanna hear you fucking say it.” He gave you a light slap to the ass before tightening his grip on your hips and picking up the pace of his thrusts. 

“M-my pussy belongs, oh god.” A moan ripped through you, disrupting your ability to talk for several minutes as you did nothing but moan Taehyung’s name and allow your body to be pounded into the table. You could hear the legs of the table grinding against the floor every time his hips snapped against yours. “My pussy belongs to you, Tae.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he hissed, giving you another slap. “Namjoon’s never gonna fuck this pussy like I do.”

Your legs began to quiver to the point you could barely stand. Pulling out of you, Taehyung flipped you over and lifted you onto the table so you could lie on your back. He held your legs for stability as he picked up where he left off, slamming into you with new fervor. The new position gave him clear access to your clit which he played with as he pounded into you. 

“Please Tae, right there… right there,” you begged him to continue pressing his thumb against your clit. With every tight circle rubbed into your clit and every precise spearing of Taehyung’s cock into your pussy, you got closer and closer to falling apart all over again. 

“Aw, fucking shit,” Taehyung cursed, throwing his head back as his hips began to jerk on their own. He was struggling to hold on for you to cum a second time. You watched with clear admiration as Taehyung concentrated on keeping his cool. His bloodshot eyes still shone an iridescent gray. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he moaned from the back of his throat. With his free hand he carded his fingers through his wavy hair, showing off the veins that protruded from his muscular bicep. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” You purposely squeezed around his cock, eliciting a moan from him that was louder than he usually let out. 

Watching the way Taehyung titled his head back, lips fully parted, hips stuttering as he finally found his release was enough to push you over the edge, too. You instinctually arched your back off the table, pushing into him as he gave a final thrust, both hands squeezing your thighs. 

He leaned forward to plant a messy kiss along your chest, both of your bodies heaving and struggling to replace the oxygen you needed. Your legs still twitched as they hung off the side of the table, so you wrapped them around Taehyung’s waist. His cock was still inside you, and it didn’t seem like he had any intention of changing that. Instead of pulling away, he nuzzled his face into your neck and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 

“You’re so nice after sex,” you said with a euphoric giggle, the high of the marijuana and your orgasm preventing you from keeping your emotions and commentary in check. Everything seemed so much brighter, so much more relaxed. Even though the table wasn’t comfortable, you felt secure in Taehyung’s embrace. But that warmth was stripped from you when he let you go, pulling out of you to stare with scrunched brows. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re usually an asshole.” The light tone you used stood in stark contrast to the words you were saying. “But after sex you’re all cuddly and warm.” 

Taehyung was silent as he discarded the condom and helped you get off the table. While last time you felt awkward after sex, the weed was helping you feel a bit less self-conscious. You smoothed down your dress and fixed your underwear as Taehyung pulled his pants back on. Sweat caused his t-shirt to cling to his skin, making his muscular pecs more prominent. 

“I guess I am an asshole,” Taehyung said after a moment. 

“You don’t have to be,” you whispered. You reached out to run the tips of your fingers along his jawline, feeling the slight stubble that lined his sharp angles. Taehyung closed his eyes and leaned his face into your touch. 

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” 

Even though he didn’t say it out loud, you knew he was referring to sleeping with you. You could just sense it and if you weren’t high it would have dragged you so far deep into a pit of anger and guilt that you weren’t sure you’d ever pull yourself out of it. 

“Why do you make me feel this way, Tae?” You ran your fingers along his lips, then dropped down to feel the bump of his Adam’s apple. 

“It’s just what happens when you start having sex for the first time.” He pulled away from you, stepping back enough that you could no longer touch him. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “You’d feel like this regardless of who it was.” 

“I don’t believe you.” You shook your head, but Taehyung still didn’t look at you. There had to be a reason why you were so drawn to him, and it couldn’t possibly be just the sex. Maybe he didn’t understand what you meant, but you didn’t know how to articulate it to him. Your mind was too fogged by weed and two explosive orgasms. What Taehyung didn’t understand was that he made you feel independent. Despite how manipulative he was, he still gave you a choice - more than Namjoon or your parents ever had. When you talked to Taehyung, he talked to you about you; he didn’t give a shit about all the frivolous things in life. He made you feel… normal. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” Taehyung repeated that familiar phrase with a shrug. He turned towards the hall leading to your front door and the pain that shot through the middle of your heart crippled you in a way you could’ve never imagined. This had always been sex for him. Revenge against a man he hated. 

You were simply a conquest. 

And exactly how much dignity did you have left? 

“Tae…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist before he made it to the front door. When he turned you saw the muscles in his jaw ripple as he held his mouth shut. “Will you stay tonight?” 

His jaw slackened and his eyebrows rose, giving his face a much kinder appearance. “Why?”

“I just… don’t want to be alone.” You slid your hand down his wrist to intertwine your fingers and squeezed. Taehyung’s eyes swept over your body, contemplating.

“Okay,” he finally agreed, and his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

All you had for him to wear to bed were a pair of Namjoon’s sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. Somehow giving Namjoon’s clothes to Taehyung as pajamas felt dirtier than having sex with Taehyung behind Namjoon’s back. It was the way they looked so different in the same clothes, forcing you to draw comparisons without meaning to. Would you ever give Namjoon those clothes back, knowing Taehyung had worn them? It seemed like a violation. 

Taehyung slid into bed with you for the second time, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you against his chest. 

“If you don’t actually want to sleep here, you can leave. I don’t want to force you to be here.” You chewed on your bottom lip and stared into the darkness, your mind creating shapes in the shadows. Taehyung squeezed you tighter and you felt his lips lightly brush along the crook of your neck. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” His sleepy voice vibrated against your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. 

“No,” you whispered. 

“Hmm,” Taehyung hummed as he nestled his face into your neck. “Then take advantage of me being nice after sex and go to sleep.” 

Taehyung left the next morning in enough time to narrowly miss your parents returning home from their trip. You wished you could say that they noticed the way you floated through the house like an apparition, barely making a sound or disrupting whatever the two of them had going on as your family bulldozed through life like a giant hurricane. 

The only times they bothered to engage with you was to question you about Namjoon or your internship - all goal-oriented endeavors meant to pave the way to your future success. Maybe sometimes you wanted to just exist. Maybe sometimes you didn’t want to work towards anything at all. Concepts they’d never be able to understand. 

Your “homework” from Brynn didn’t quite go as planned. Your mother almost immediately guilt-tripped you into attending one of her regular tea parties with the other wealthy housewives in town. Even though the tea was really vodka sodas and the conversation was more gossip than anything else, you despised dressing up and being forced to hang out with Lily and Sabina and pretend that you cared about the marriages their parents were orchestrating for them or the newest designer bag they’d purchased with their fathers’ credit cards. 

Namjoon didn’t even offer a reprieve; phone calls with your boyfriend always dissolved into rants about his coursework or his professors. There was always something wrong. You were tired of being a silent sounding board. 

And you were beginning to become tired of lying. 

Over the next few months, Taehyung’s appearances ebbed and flowed. Slowly, your college courses began to consume more of your time as you started taking more advanced law courses. Taehyung became busier, too. His new job working as a bartender at the same rooftop bar the two of you visited meant his work hours were opposite to yours. While you were free in the evenings and nights, Taehyung was working until the early hours of the morning. 

Despite the rooftop party having been weeks earlier, you’d scrubbed the kitchen table with more enthusiasm than the task warranted. Knowing Namjoon would be having dinner with your parents now that he was visiting for fall break was giving your stomachs the flips so bad just looking at that kitchen table was enough to make you want to vomit.

Even when the four of you were sitting snug in your seats, an array of dishes prepared by your father scattered on the table, you still couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

The tingling sensation that crept up the inside of your thighs was all the evidence needed to make one thing clear: Kim Taehyung had an impact on you.

“So, Namjoon, have you thought about marriage?”

Your father sat his fork down and folded his hands in front of his face. You felt the air in your lungs grow heavy, an elephant sitting on your chest. The room didn’t stand still for anyone else, though.

“Oh yes, have you and Y/N discussed that recently? There’s so much to consider.” Your mother perked up at the “M” word with her pearly whites gleaming in the fluorescent lighting of your family’s kitchen.

“Mom!” you hissed, clenching your glass of water so hard you felt it may shatter at any moment. “I’m literally twenty, why is that something I should be thinking about right now?”

It was as if your parents made it their personal mission to complicate everything in your life while denying that they were overly-involved. You wondered why it was pissing you off now rather than so many years earlier, but it was impossible to assume that each interaction wouldn’t add on top of the other until you were suffocating under the weight of their expectations.  

“We have not discussed it,” Namjoon said slowly, casting you a serious look. It was the slightly narrowed eyes that told you he was irritated with your response, but it wasn’t enough of a glare to make it seem like he was being an asshole. “I’ve been very busy with school, it’s a difficult topic to seriously bring up for right now.”

That seemed to satisfy your parents because they were willing to move the conversation along. Not that you were willing to follow along. Eventually, something would have to change.

“I’m done,” you announced, drawing everyone’s attention onto you.

“What?”

You didn’t look at Namjoon when he spoke, your attention focused on putting your dishes in the sink and hightailing it up the stairs to your room. You felt your entire body vibrate with the building frustration of knowing that you were the only one who could see the ridiculousness of everything.

It didn’t take long for there to be a knock at your door. Judging by the hesitancy of the sound, you figured it was Namjoon; your parents were more wont to barge in unannounced.

“Come in,” you grumbled, standing up from your previous position of lying on your bed.

Your boyfriend slipped through the door, closing it slowly. Despite his quiet movements, there was still a spark of irritation in his eyes.

“Why do you have to act like that? Rejecting me in front of your parents is embarrassing.”

“I didn’t reject you,” you sniffed, crossing your arms across your chest.

Namjoon let out a deep sigh. You thought he might try to push you, but instead he sat down on the edge of your bed with his elbows on his knees. For a moment you felt your heart flicker, panged with pity and guilt. Maybe you were the problem all along.

“I don’t understand you,” he said after a moment, looking up at you from his sandy-brown bangs. He reached out to take your hands, leading you to stand in between his legs.

“My parents are suffocating me…” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze. Though you did see him nod his head - perhaps not in agreement, but in some sort of understanding.

Namjoon pulled you into his lap so you were straddling his muscular thighs. He moved your hair to the side to gain access to your neck, allowing himself to plant wet kisses along your throat.

“Joonie, what are you doing?” Your voice wavered as his kisses traveled down your neck.

“Maybe we should take the next step, jagiya.” You hated how foreign the pet name sounded coming out of Namjoon’s mouth instead of… Well, instead of someone else’s. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

He slipped his hands beneath your shirt to grab your bare waist and you shuddered from how cold his fingers were. The nervousness that made your stomach flop only increased when you felt Namjoon’s semi-hard cock press in between your thighs as he adjusted beneath you. Sure, you’d made out before, but something about this felt different.

“Why? I thought you said we shouldn’t?”

“It could strengthen our relationship, don’t you think?”

By now Namjoon’s hands were squeezing your ass, forcing you to grind against his erection. Naturally, you began to feel your arousal pool at your core, but your physical response was far different from your emotional response. Emotionally, you couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and seeing Taehyung run his tongue up the length of your neck, slapping your ass as he pounded into you.

You pulled away from Namjoon and slowly lifted yourself out of his lap.

“I’m sorry, Joonie, but I can’t… not right now.” You felt your heart beat in your throat and then pummel to the depths of your soul when Namjoon gave you a concerned look.

“That’s okay, we can try another time,” he insisted.

You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak. Maybe another time would work. Maybe by then, you would be different. Maybe Namjoon would be different, too.

The lies began to add up in your life like dirty laundry spilling over into an otherwise pristine room. Every moment you were away from the house, there had to be a carefully crafted explanation if you couldn’t prove it was due to work or school. 

And you could never, ever, be caught with Taehyung in the open. The rooftop bar was risky enough.

You’d convinced your mother and Namjoon that you joined a hiking club at school. Claiming you went wandering in nature with other outdoorsy people from your university was the only way you could explain the fact that sometimes you spent time at a local forest preserve after class, knowing the two of them were notorious for checking your location for no reason. 

“I used to come out here all the time.” 

You turned your head to look at Taehyung, but he faced the sky. The two of you laid on your backs next to each other on blankets in a clearing within the woods. A small river snaked through the field, providing the relaxing sound of fresh water rolling over mossy stones and sticks. It was likely one of the last warm days before autumn truly hit. 

“Alone?” you asked, eyes still on him. He nodded his head slowly and a deep frown set into his face.

“It’s good for when you wanna get away from all the bullshit.” Taehyung finally turned to look at you. Your faces were just a few inches apart; your shoulders pressed together. “I used to run away and hide out here until I calmed down,” he said with an airy laugh. His breath stirred your baby hairs, tickling your forehead. “Haven’t been here in a while, though. Probably not since my mom…” The deep set frown returned, and Taehyung turned his head to gaze into the sky once again. 

“Well, thank you for bringing me here. It seems like a special place.” You decided not to push him further. Instead, you reached out to squeeze his hand. “Maybe I’ll start running away and come here. My therapist did say I need to work on taking control over my life,” you said with a loud snort, hoping to lighten the mood. 

Taehyung turned onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. “You go to therapy?” 

“Yeah…” The question wasn’t judgmental, but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach twist and your mind race to be on the defense. After spending nearly two months hanging out on and off with Taehyung, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable with him; still, he was unpredictable at best. 

He watched you with those intimidatingly dark eyes that both scared you and made your clit throb. “Do you ever talk about me?” 

“What? No!” you immediately blurted. Shame scorched your cheeks even though Taehyung had no way of knowing anything about your therapy sessions. You hadn’t told Brynn about him, mostly because you were afraid of what she would say if you admitted that you were a cheater. 

“Am I not important enough?” Despite his question, Taehyung’s face was unreadable as he continued watching you. His free hand let go of yours and found its place on your stomach. “Have I not made a big enough of an… impact on you, jagiya?” He slid his hand beneath your shirt to cup one of your breasts over the lace bralette you wore. You let out a weak whimper when he grazed your nipple with his thumb, pinching it once it was erect. 

“That’s…” You let out another whimper as Taehyung moved on to toy with your other nipple. “That’s not how therapy works, Taehyung.” 

“Oh?” He dragged his nails down your sternum, past the soft skin of your stomach, until he got to the waistband of your leggings. He dipped his fingers beneath your leggings for a moment just to tease you, only playing with the skin of your waist. “Then what kind of things do you talk about?” 

Feeling Taehyung’s fingers play with your leggings made heat pool at your center despite your best efforts to stay calm. You’d never been horny before you met Taehyung. Now, though? You’d even found yourself masturbating to the thought of him, late at night when you wondered what he was doing. If any other girls were flirting with him at the bar or if he had taken any home. 

“I can’t tell you,” you said with a jut of your chin. Rather than look convincing, Taehyung only found your stubbornness cute. He flashed a grin at you, a smile that reached his eyes and made them crease. 

“Tsk tsk, I thought we were friends, baby girl. Don’t friends tell each other secrets?” He left you no time to think of a response to his question before he slipped his entire hand inside your underwear and skimmed his long fingers along your soft folds. You let out a gasp and your legs immediately spread apart for him, silently begging for him to do more than just roll your clit between his fingers. 

“Maybe you should try therapy and find out for yourself,” you offered through gritted teeth, trying your damn hardest to keep it together. 

Taehyung lightly pinched your clit, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watched your body arch into his touch. “This…” He pushed his fingers further through your arousal. “This right here…” He plunged two fingers into your entrance and immediately pressed hard against your front wall. The sudden sensation sent a pulse through your body and pulled a moan out of your throat. “This is my therapy.” 

Right before you reached the edge of finishing, Taehyung removed his fingers and sat up. You felt unbelievably empty without him pressing into you, but Taehyung didn’t leave you for very long. 

“Sit up,” he commanded, and you quickly obeyed. He moved to position himself behind you, allowing you to rest your back against his firm chest. You leaned your head against his chest with your eyes closed as you felt his hands pull your thighs apart. “I make you feel good, don’t I baby?” Taehyung slid two fingers into your pussy once again. 

You shivered from the feel of his breath against your neck, his lips ghosting over a hickey he’d given you a few days ago that was finally starting to fade. You nodded, but then remembered his rules. “Yes, Tae,” you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm as he began to pump his fingers into you faster. 

“Isn’t Namjoon back for fall break?” The mention of your boyfriend made you whimper again. You could only nod in return. Taehyung thrusted particularly hard into your g-spot, pulling an even louder moan out of you. “Fuck, jagiya. You’re getting even wetter. Are you getting off thinking about how I’m fucking you and Namjoon has no idea?” 

You hated that he was right. You did everything in your power to ignore the fire he ignited in your core, but the way your pussy gushed and squelched around his fingers told him the truth without you having to say anything at all. 

“Mmmm,” he groaned into your neck. “What are you gonna do?” 

What were you going to do? 

Taehyung brought his other hand between your legs to circle your clit as he continued finger fucking you. The additional sensation was what you needed to finally reach your climax. You squeezed Taehyung as hard as you could as your walls fluttered around his fingers and your moans echoed through the quiet clearing in the woods. 

Your limbs went limp and you used his body to hold you up as you panted your way into a steadier breathing pattern. The high of an orgasm seemed to always put you in a brave (or stupid) mood. “We have to stop,” you said slowly, your head still lulling against Taehyung’s chest. 

The laugh that rumbled through his chest in response made your head bump forward. “We’re not going to stop. You couldn’t say no even if you tried.” 

You didn’t have to see his face to know the smug look that adorned it. Your eyes flew open when you felt his wet fingers drag along your lips. You parted them slightly to allow him to stick his fingers in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the two digits. Tasting yourself. 

He knew he had you. 

“Now come suck me off. Baby girl needs more practice.” 

Such a straightforward command had your mouth watering. You turned around to watch Taehyung pull his sweatpants down enough to release his cock. You hadn’t sucked him since your first night together, and the fear of messing up was still making your nerves put you on edge. But your desire to please him was even stronger. 

You grabbed the base of his cock and lowered your mouth into the tip, experimenting with swirling your tongue around it like you had with his fingers. It must have been the right move because Taehyung moaned and bucked his hips into you, forcing more of his cock to push into your throat. Tears leaked from your eyes as you pushed yourself further, attempting to fully take him.  

“Fuck,” Taehyung hissed. He reached down to wipe the tears from your cheeks and admired the way your lips stretched around his cock. Drool rolled down your chin. “Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your chin as he thrusted into your throat. You gagged on the pressure of his cock hitting the back of your throat, your muscles spasming, but you kept your eyes locked on him as he requested. 

Seeing you like that only drove Taehyung crazier. “You look fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth,” he moaned, thrusting again. “You’re taking me so fucking well. Just a little bit more.” 

A few more thrusts as you hollowed out your cheeks as best as you could and Taehyung finally came, shooting warm cum down your throat. You struggled to swallow around him and still breathe properly once you pulled away. 

“Y/N, you’re so perfect,” he spoke in an airy, dreamy voice. He brought his thumb to the corner of your mouth to wipe away the mess that was still left behind before pulling you against his chest to kiss you. It was impossible to recover from the way he’d spoken your name with such admiration, and you felt your heart frantically pound against your ribs. “They have no idea what they’ve got.” 

You weren’t sure who he was referring to, but you assumed he meant your parents and Namjoon. It was the soft, sweet Taehyung post-sex that held you now, no longer staring at you with hunger but instead with endearment. 

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his neck. Aside from cuddling together the two times he’d slept over, this was the most intimate position the two of you had ever been in, you sitting in his lap as the world felt like it had grown still around you. 

“I feel terrible, Tae…” The emotional whiplash he caused you was starting to fuck with your head, especially the closer you got to the day Namjoon would be visiting home for nearly two weeks. 

Taehyung was silent, chin resting on the top of your head. You knew he didn’t have answers for you; you had to remind yourself that you were the fool willingly melting in Taehyung’s hands every chance you got. 

“You have to stop thinking about what other people want.” 

You nodded, but kept your arms latched around his neck. He was starting to sound an awful lot like Brynn. 

“I have to go…” you said softly, slowly pulling away from his embrace. Rather than protest like you’d expected, he helped you stand up and put away the blankets into your backpack. If he was upset with you for leaving so quickly, he didn’t show it. But you felt bad nonetheless. Bringing your fingers to his face, you ran your fingers along his jawline and gave him a small smile. 

Taehyung leaned down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, and you were pretty sure it was the first time he’d kissed you with such a level of innocence. “Thank you, jagi.” 

“If you’re so determined to go out,” Namjoon began, giving you an accusatory look as he spoke. “Then we’re going out together so I can make sure nothing happens to you.” 

The only reason he was letting you go, besides the fact that he was accompanying you, was because the party was thrown for everyone in your graduating class. You knew it was going to be massive even before Namjoon pulled up to park outside of the house of whichever one of your classmates was hosting. You thought it was Sabina’s cousin, but you couldn’t remember half the people you went to school with. Friends weren’t something you’d prioritized when everything you did was with Namjoon anyway. 

You followed your boyfriend through the house, already jammed packed with drunk college students. The air reeked of cheap beer and marijuana. If you’d been in a better mood, you would have laughed at the way Namjoon’s face twisted with disgust as he navigated each of the rooms. How had he become so prudish? All you think about was the ease with which Taehyung had navigated the rooftop party you’d gone to with him. Taehyung was charming and unfazed. He’d made you feel pretty and interesting, regardless of who was there. 

Attending a party with Namjoon felt stuffy and judgmental. 

All you wanted was a drink to ease your frustrations, but Namjoon wasn’t letting you anywhere near the punch. Instead you stood near the perimeter of the living room while Namjoon chatted with some guy you didn’t recognize. With a sigh, you searched the room for any familiar face to talk to until your eyes landed on someone. 

“Y/N, are you listening to me?” 

Namjoon followed your gaze to rest his eyes on the unfortunately familiar man. Taehyung leaned back on the couch with his long legs spread apart. A woman was perched on his lap, her face leaned forward so her hair was obscuring her face, but it was clear that the two of them were making out. Her hands were buried in his hair and you could see the sharp outline of Taehyung’s jaw move in that painstakingly slow but oh so sweet tempo you’d once been privy to. 

“Why am I not surprised to see that?” Namjoon snorted with a roll of his eyes and his nose scrunched in disdain. “So trashy.” 

The woman leaned away from Taehyung and you saw something on her face glimmer in the light; her cheeks were pierced. 

Angel. 

You felt your stomach churn so violently you squeezed Namjoon’s hand in yours, which he mistook for your agreement with his statement. 

“Everyone knows Taehyung fucks half the town, it’s not necessary for him to bring his mess out for everyone to see,” Namjoon continued complaining with what he assumed was your encouragement. “I’m sure our chlamydia stats have gone up in this town because of him.” 

You were hardly listening, your mind instead focused on how Angel straddled Taehyung’s thigh and gently rocked against him while he sucked on her neck. Your eyes followed Taehyung’s large hands as he ran them down the length of Angel’s back, eventually resting to firmly grab her ass. It was fairly raunchy considering the rest of the partygoers had a more relaxed vibe; only a few other people were making out, and it wasn’t anything but harmless kissing. But you knew firsthand that Taehyung didn’t care what people thought about PDA. 

Namjoon was still bitching about his ex-friend, but his voice was nothing but a buzzing sound tickling at your eardrums. There was nothing that could pull you away from your rock solid stare at Taehyung’s lips moving along Angel’s neck, his tongue poking out to swirl against her skin. You could practically feel the wet muscle on your own skin, but it didn’t bring you the pleasure it used to. Instead, you were nearing a panic. And you were about to be pushed even closer to the edge. 

Before you could finally rip your gaze from the steamy scene, Taehyung lifted his head from Angel’s neck and his eyes locked with yours across the room. You felt like every organ in your body was going to plummet to the floor. Immediately letting go of Namjoon’s hand, you turned on your heel. 

“Y/N, where are you going?” Namjoon called after you, worried wrinkles set deep into his forehead. 

“Bathroom!” you shouted over your shoulder, squeezing past the other house party guests. The hallway was less crowded, but you still couldn’t breathe. Every inhale felt like the air was going straight through you, like there were holes in your lungs and no matter how hard or how fast you sucked in air, nothing was sticking. 

You practically fell into the bathroom, just barely keeping your wits about you to lock the door before you leaned against the sink. With your head hanging low, you turned the water on cold and let your fingers hover beneath the stream. You wanted to splash your face, but it would ruin your makeup. 

However, one look in the mirror showed you that your makeup was already ruined. You hadn’t realized that you’d started crying. 

“You did this to yourself,” you sighed at your reflection as you dabbed a clump of toilet paper against your cheeks. Dabbing your skin instead of wiping would hopefully preserve your makeup without smudging it too much. If this was karma at work, you couldn’t really be mad at anyone but yourself. From the moment you entertained Taehyung’s fantasies, you’d RSVP’ed to hell. And hell was starting off on earth. 

For now, there was a simple solution: you needed to get the fuck out of there. Namjoon would surely be thrilled to leave; you were the one he was trying to please this time. He would have much rather sat at home with a good book and read until he got sleepy. 

“Y/N!” 

You ignored the call, instead focusing on charging forward out of the bathroom without faltering in your gait. Another call of your name went ignored, but the third call was accompanied by Taehyung’s long fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you backwards. 

“Let go of me,” you spoke through clenched teeth.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” There was that question again, the one Namjoon had asked in the very beginning of this nonsense. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” you exclaimed, ripping your arm from Taehyung’s grasp. “You’re dry humping Angel in the middle of a party and there’s something wrong with me?!” 

“Why does it matter to you what I do? You’re dating Namjoon, remember? Mr. Perfect standing in the living room with his nose in the air, just waiting to take his princess home and away from pieces of shit like me,” Taehyung’s voice dripped with malice and it’s then that you smelled the alcohol on his breath. He took a step closer to you and you stepped backwards, only to find your shoulders hit the wall behind you. Taehyung had you caged in now, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned forward. 

“You got to have your fun with me, try out the forbidden fruit. Now you get to run back to the life you were always supposed to have, right baby girl?” The pet name was now a cold taunt. “I already told you whenever you need a break you can come find me, but don’t expect me to wait for you.”

You couldn’t believe the irritation with which Taehyung spoke to you, his nostrils flared and his eyes heavy with annoyance. How could he talk like you were abandoning him when he’d been the one to seduce you in the first place? You never saw him as forbidden fruit to be pursued; if anything, it had seemed like that was how he saw you. 

What hurt even more was the fact that the last time you’d seen him, that quiet moment in his special place in the forest preserve, had ended so softly. Where was that Taehyung? If the confusion wasn’t enough to cause your bottom lip to quiver, the frustration Taehyung directed towards you was the last straw. 

“Tae…” you stared up at him with watery eyes, every blink pushing a few tears down your cheeks. “I thought you understood better than that.” 

You watched his face visibly soften as if your tears were an emotional cleanse. His hand came up to cradle your cheek before slowly sliding into your hair to grip the back of your head. He took your mouth in his and your hands shot up to grip the front of his t-shirt, pulling him against you. Namjoon was quite literally on the other side of the wall from you, but it didn’t matter when Taehyung was pumping his tongue inside your mouth while you sucked on him like he was fucking you. He didn’t break the kiss until you began to feel his cock harden against your thigh. 

“I understand too well,” he breathed into you. 

In that moment you heard Namjoon call your name above the heavy bass of the music blaring through the house. For the third or fourth time that night you felt your stomach drop, eyes widening with panic as Taehyung quickly stepped away from you. You saw him pull at his jeans, trying to hide the clear outline of his dick pressed down the inside of his thigh. 

Namjoon appeared in the hallway with his eyes narrowed at Taehyung. You quickly made your way to Namjoon’s side, trying to subtly pat down your hair in case Taehyung had messed it up. 

“Y/N, we’re leaving,” Namjoon announced, eyes still locked on the other man. Taehyung held Namjoon’s gaze and you were impressed by the blank expression he managed to give your boyfriend, especially when Namjoon was clearly fuming. All you could do was nod in return and grasp his hand as he followed you out of the house. 

When you turned back, Taehyung was watching you. You saw Angel approach him from behind and snake her arm around his waist, but then Namjoon pulled on your hand, and Taehyung and Angel disappeared in the crowd. 

“Why were you in the hallway with Kim Taehyung?” Namjoon waited until you were both in his car before interrogating you. It wasn’t unexpected; you were sure it looked suspicious even though Namjoon didn’t have any other reason to not trust you. 

It also wasn’t unexpected because he was so anal about everything. Having him back home, even for a short period of time, was serving as a strong reminder of how nosy and controlling and out of control he could get when you weren’t doing exactly what he wanted. You never saw Namjoon as abusive, but you definitely saw him as somewhat toxic. The more you’d been exposed to a life beyond what Namjoon had attempted to create for the two of you, the more you were annoyed with the fact that he could never leave you alone. 

“We were talking.” It wasn’t a lie - only a half-truth. 

“About what?”

“Nothing really. Just saying hi.” 

Namjoon narrowed his eyes, but he kept his focus on the road. Of course he did. Ever cautious, ever perfect. Never doing anything out of line. You wanted to shake him. 

“You have nothing to talk to him about.” Namjoon nearly spat his words. The confidence with which he decided what you were doing really got your stomach twisted. 

“Actually, I have a lot to talk about with him,” you said through gritted teeth. “Like just exactly how you got into Harvard, Joonie.” 

Namjoon slammed on the breaks at a stoplight. With the light still red, he turned to glare at you. You’d never seen him with such fire in his eyes; part of you thought it was fitting. It reflected what was probably always bubbling beneath his pretentious exterior. 

“Why are you even entertaining what he says? I promise you, Kim Taehyung does nothing but lie through his teeth just to get his own sick pleasure out of fucking other people over.” Namjoon breathed heavily out of his nose, the hissing sound making you want to retreat. 

But there was no way you were giving up now. Taehyung’s words echoed in your mind: you have to stop thinking about what other people want.

“Is that true? Is that really true, Joonie?” You threw your hands in the air in frustration, letting out a huff. 

“Whatever he said about me is a lie, Y/N. How could you possibly trust someone like him over what I’m telling you?” 

“Because I’m tired of you always acting like you’re so perfect! You’re a human being just like everyone else! You can’t just boss people around and act like you’re some kind of god and everyone else is beneath you!” 

“I have never behaved that way. You’re the one being unreasonable right now.” The greenlight beckoned Namjoon to turn down your street. As your house became closer into view, you felt the tightness in your stomach twists until you felt like you were going to puke. 

“We need to break up.” 

Namjoon coughed like he’d choked on his inhale of air. “What are you talking about?” 

You squeezed your hands together to stop them from shaking and took a deep breath. “I am breaking up with you, Namjoon. I do not want to date someone who talks to me like I’m stupid and who tries to control what I do with my life.” 

You did your best to speak slowly and intentionally, carefully choosing your words to not sound like you were being indecisive. You had to do this, to make a step towards a happier life. 

“You don’t mean that.” Namjoon parked outside of your house and finally turned to face you head on. “You’re just saying that because you’re angry.” 

“No I’m not, Joon! Stop telling me how I feel and just listen to me for once.” You felt tears threaten to breach, but you did your best to blink them away. “I can’t do this anymore, okay?” 

You placed your hand on the door handle and gave Namjoon a final look. He was in complete shock, though it was expected. You’d never once stood up to him; he probably had no idea what to think. Maybe he thought it was all some big joke. Maybe he thought this was Taehyung’s fault.

“Goodnight, Joonie,” you said softly and exited the car. You rushed up to your bedroom without greeting your parents, slamming the door and locking it. Tears blurred your sight as you frantically scrolled through your text messages until you found the person you needed. 

[11:02] I broke up with Namjoon

The tears finally fell as you collapsed onto your bed, hugging your pillow tightly against your chest. Why was this supposedly a step in the right direction towards happiness, but it felt like you’d just cut out a piece of your heart? Why did cutting Namjoon hurt so much? 

When your phone started vibrating your first thought was that it was Namjoon calling to beg you back or bitch you out, but only two letters glared back at you on the screen. 

“Hello.” You were sure you sounded like death. Your nose was stuffed up with snot from crying and you didn’t bother getting up. You just laid your phone on speaker next to your head. 

“Are you okay?” 

From the muffled music and loud laughter in the background you could tell that Taehyung was still at the party. You thought you heard Angel call his name, but you didn’t have the energy to get upset about that, too. 

“No.” 

“I’m coming over. Just gimme, like, ten minutes, okay?”  

You tried to reassure him that you’d be fine on your own, but Taehyung was insistent on helping you. There was no use arguing; a huge part of you wanted someone to comfort you. You didn’t even bother caring that in ten minutes Kim Taehyung would be at the front door of your house while your parents were home. That it would likely be one of them who opened the door. 

It ended up being your mother who responded to the ring of the doorbell. It wasn’t good, but it was better than it being your father. Taehyung stood in the doorway wearing his tight ripped jeans and leather jacket, a single chain earring dangling from one ear. His wavy dark hair was tousled and he smelled like alcohol and marijuana. 

“Excuse me?” Your mother’s eyes widened at the sight of the young man branded as the town’s fuckup. Her eyes further popped out of her head when said young man requested to see you. 

You sprinted down the stairs to stand at your mother’s side, touching her forearm gently. “It’s okay, Mom. I need to talk to Taehyung about a project I’m working on at school. You remember the club I joined? He knows a lot about camping and hiking.” 

It was a shitty excuse, but your mom hesitantly stepped to the side for Taehyung to enter your home. Part of your heart stung when she didn’t make any effort to acknowledge your eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. Another part of you was glad that she didn’t give a fuck. Before your mother could ask any questions, you dragged Taehyung up the stairs to your bedroom, relocking the door once he was inside. 

You weren’t taking any chances. 

Taehyung stood like he wasn’t sure what to do with his body, but you knew what you needed. You crushed yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could.  You welcomed the warmth and stability of holding yourself against him, despite the fact that Taehyung’s body immediately tensed. He wasn’t really the hugging type, but you didn’t care. 

“It felt like the right thing to do… but I still feel bad,” you sniffled, pressing your face into his chest. Taehyung was silent for a moment, holding his breath. 

“It’ll feel better once you realize how much life is going to be freer without him bossing you around all the time,” he finally said and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist. “Not gonna lie, I thought you weren’t ever going to do it.”  

You were sure he was right about feeling free, but it didn’t make the pain go away. He led you to sit down on your bed and sat beside you, that same look of uncertainty on his face from the last time he saw you cry.

“I did it because of you.” 

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “What do you mean?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” You wiped away the tears on your cheeks and let out a soft sigh. “I want to be with you, Tae.” 

He’d said you would have felt this way regardless of who you were sleeping with, but you truly didn’t believe him. You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely hadn’t expected Taehyung to physically distance himself from you. He scooted away from you on the bed and stared at you with pursed lips. 

“No you don’t.”

With eyebrows scrunched, you glared at Taehyung, the anger starting to bubble up in you once again. Why was he sounding just like Namjoon? 

“You can’t just tell me what I’m feeling, Tae. How would you even know? I’m telling you right now, I like you and I thought if I wasn’t with Namjoon, we could try this out. For real this time.” 

Taehyung shook his head slowly, a frown etched deep into his face, and you felt your heart plummet. 

“I really like what we’ve got going on, Y/N. But I don’t really “do” relationships, you know?” Taehyung started off slowly, clearly taking the time to work through what he wanted to say. You could see him thinking, his jaw muscles clenching beneath his skin. When he ran a hand through his bushy hair, his fingers shook slightly.

“So… you just want to fuck and that’s it…” you sniffed, using your sleeve to rub at your nose. 

Taehyung didn’t meet your eyes and that was enough to tell you his intentions with you. You felt yourself crumble, the realization finally hitting that you’d just cut ties with the only person who was constant in your life. Even if Namjoon was a jerk, he was familiar and reliable. 

You didn’t know how to be alone. 

Since you were telling people how you felt today, you might as well dive all the fucking way in. “I hate you, Tae. I hate you so much.”

This was all his fault. What else were you supposed to do? The man who’d tempted you into giving yourself up to him fully, so far as to destroy your relationship, was somehow making it seem like you were the one who took things too far. There was no way you were going to just let this go. Brynn was going to be so impressed. Or concerned? You weren’t sure yet. 

Taehyung leaned back to look at you and the only thing you hated more than him was the way your stomach still fluttered when he watched you with those dark, hooded eyes. He reached over to cup your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip. In one swift movement he pressed his thumb into your mouth and you instinctively closed your lips around it with a small whimper.

“I already told you, you couldn’t say no to me even if you tried, baby girl.” He gave you a small smirk and pulled his hand away. 

You felt embarrassment heat up your face, but you couldn’t tear your gaze from his. 

“Once you’re done being pissed off at me, let me know and I can give you a reminder of why you can’t say no to this dick,” he said with a swipe of his tongue along his lips. 

And it was far too easy to give in. It had always been too easy. 

“You’re not even just a little bit curious, Joonie?”

Taehyung’s tongue glides along the edge of the rolling paper pinched between his index fingers and thumbs. Little clusters of purple grapes drawn in a cartoonish style are printed onto the thin paper. When he brings his lighter to the twisted tip, the smoke he inhales is sweet. 

“No desire to know why your girl thought getting fucked by me was worth breaking her promise to you?” 

Taehyung leans his head against the back of the couch and watches Namjoon out of the corner of his eye. The other man sits in a chair diagonal from Taehyung’s spot on the couch. He looks odd in Taehyung’s apartment, wearing tortoise-shell geometric glasses and a cream-colored cardigan. Meanwhile, Taehyung lounges in light grey joggers and a tight white t-shirt with the sleeves cuffed around his bulging biceps. 

They’re a funny sight, him and Namjoon. Taehyung is sure of it and can’t help but smirk to himself at the thought of Namjoon’s ex-girlfriend knowing he’s here. He’s sure Namjoon hasn’t mentioned it to her. As far as Taehyung knows, she hasn’t had any communication with Namjoon since she went off to California. 

Taehyung knows they’re both thinking about how the last time Namjoon was here, they were beating the shit out of each other. 

Taehyung also thinks about how he fucked Namjoon’s girl on the couch right where he’s sitting, but Namjoon doesn’t know that. The asshole might have his suspicions, but he can’t ever know for sure. 

That is unless Taehyung tells him. And Taehyung loves it when Namjoon gets all purple in the face, and the veins pop out in his neck. But he also loves knowing what Namjoon doesn’t. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon hisses. His face isn’t quite purple yet, but his neck veins are starting to show. 

Taehyung’s mouth shapes into a lazy rectangular smile. 

“Make me.” 

“You’re so fucking childish.” 

Taehyung snorts. When he exhales, smoke rushes from his nostrils. He leans one elbow on his knee and extends his other arm out to offer Namjoon the grape-flavored joint. 

“I don’t smoke,” Namjoon declines with a wrinkle of his nose. 

It’s ridiculous because Namjoon doesn’t like Taehyung, yet here he is in his apartment, and for what? Their meeting is under the pretense that Taehyung wanted to make amends now that the object of both of their affection is no longer in the picture. The important thing to remember about Kim Taehyung, though, is that he is always honest - you just have to decipher the meaning behind the truths he speaks. 

“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Taehyung licks his lips and doesn’t miss how Namjoon follows the action with suspicion in his eyes. “C’mon, these were her favorite. S’good; it’ll make you taste like grape soda.” 

Namjoon doesn’t comment on Taehyung’s implication that anyone would be tasting his mouth for proof, and Taehyung doesn’t expect him to. He waggles the joint, careful not to let any ash hit the floor. 

The funny thing about Namjoon is that he thrives off of controlling the weak people he’s closest to, but he is hopeless when presented with someone just as manipulative as he is. Taehyung figures it’s his nonchalant demeanor that gets Namjoon’s panties in a twist. While Namjoon is high-strung and anxious in his desire to maintain control, Taehyung is more willing to play with his food. He likes feeling around, getting a sense of the situation. He’s willing to be patient, to wait for the opportune moment to get someone right where he wants them. 

And Namjoon is nearly there. 

With a grunt and an eye roll, Namjoon plucks the joint from between Taehyung’s long fingers and sticks it between his lips. 

“Keep your lips tight, but not too tight,” Taehyung guides Namjoon in a soft murmur. “Inhale some air right after you take the hit, but don’t let any of the smoke out. That’s it.” 

Namjoon coughs a few times, but that’s expected of a first-timer. Taehyung schools his face, careful not to have any expression that could be read as condescending. If he wants Namjoon to chill out, he needs to avoid bruising his ego. There will be plenty of opportunities for that later. 

“See? Feels good,” Taehyung reassures when Namjoon passes the joint back. He has to lean across the coffee table to reach it. “Come sit over here; it’s fucking annoying having to lean like that.” 

When Namjoon hesitates, Taehyung draws his lip between his teeth to hold back a grin. 

“What? I don’t bite.” 

“Shut up,” Namjoon immediately counters, but he gets up and sits beside Taehyung on the couch. 

“Relax.” Taehyung blows a smoke ring toward the ceiling. “Ride the high.” 

It’s surprisingly easy to get Namjoon to relax once he has a few more hits. Taehyung has been told he has a calming voice, so perhaps Taehyung’s random ramblings aid in getting Namjoon to feel more comfortable. He’s certainly hesitant at first, but they have enough history to fuel their conversation. It isn’t painless, but it isn’t awful. Taehyung steers clear of girlfriend-talk, instead reminiscing about stupid teachers they’d had in school and getting into an only semi-serious argument over their favorite basketball teams. 

Yes, Taehyung brought Namjoon over to earn his trust because he’s playing the long game, biding his time until he can truly fuck Namjoon over, but he doesn’t expect that trust to develop so quickly. Too quickly. 

“I wish I could talk to her,” Namjoon says with a sigh. He rests his head against the back of the couch and stares at the clouds of smoke they’re blowing into the air. 

“Probably not a good idea, my guy,” Taehyung counters. 

Namjoon turns his head to the side. He and Taehyung are only a few inches apart, close enough that their shoulders almost touch. There’s a strange look on his face that Taehyung can’t decipher because he doesn’t know Namjoon that well. 

“You haven’t reached out to her?” Shock colors Namjoon’s voice and muddles his odd expression. 

“Nope.” Taehyung draws out the word and lets it pop at the end. 

“Why not?” 

He shrugs. 

Namjoon lets out a disgruntled sound like he’s frustrated that Taehyung hasn’t wanted any communication with his ex, but he has. 

“What would be the point? It’s not like we had anything serious going on. Sorry, but it was a good fuck, and that’s it. And I can get a good fuck from plenty of people.” 

It isn’t entirely true, but Taehyung strangles the voice inside his head that tries to point that out to him. 

Sex talk must make Namjoon just as uncomfortable as it had his girlfriend because the guy practically squirms in his seat. It makes Taehyung want to roll his eyes, but he’s trying to be nice right now. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Namjoon sniffs, and if he could lift his nose fully into the air, Taehyung is sure his snooty ass would. 

“I know. It’s cute,” Taehyung says with a crooked grin. He brings the joint to his lips and watches Namjoon through the hazy smoke. “That you’re a virgin.”

It’s Namjoon’s turn to roll his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. Virginities mean nothing.” 

“Don’t they?” 

“It’s a social construct.” 

Taehyung waves a hand once Namjoon takes the joint from him. “That’s all that fancy college talk,” he dismisses. “You’re telling me you don’t care about fucking for the first time? Don’t care who it’s with, when, none of that?” 

Namjoon is overcome with a fit of coughs, so he shakes his head instead of verbally answering.

“Then why did you care so much about you and your girl saving yourselves for marriage?” 

Namjoon sighs like Taehyung is the stupidest person in the world. It isn’t the first time. “That wasn’t about virginities. That was about not being a fucking slut like some people.” 

“Like me,” Taehyung muses. Namjoon doesn’t find it to be as funny. 

“Yes, like you.”

Taehyung hums in understanding, but he doesn’t speak right away. Namjoon is confusing. Abstinence before marriage implies sexual purity, yet he finds virginities to be arbitrary. Wouldn’t that make a person’s body count arbitrary, too? College kids and their stupid, contradictory ideas. Taehyung always knew college wasn’t for him, and this type of pretentious bullshit is exactly why. 

“What counts as sex for you?” Taehyung leans forward to tap the joint against the edge of an ashtray. 

“What do you mean?”

“Y’know, if you’re saving yourself ‘cause you wanna be a prude, how far are you willing to take it? Is a handjob considered sex? Some sloppy toppy? Where’s the line drawn?” 

Namjoon grimaces at Taehyung’s crass language. “I don’t know.” 

Taehyung hums again and rests the now spent joint at the bottom of the ashtray. He and Namjoon aren’t that high; another joint would be needed to really get them to the level he likes to be at. They’re buzzed, relaxed enough that they aren’t at each other’s necks, but Namjoon’s eyes aren’t even red yet. 

Taehyung twists his body to face Namjoon and props his elbow on the back of the couch so he can hold his head in his hand. “So if I sucked you off right now, it wouldn’t count?” 

Namjoon nearly chokes, but Taehyung keeps a straight face. 

“Excuse me?”

“If I sucked you off, it wouldn’t count as sex?”

The neck veins appear now, but Taehyung thinks they aren’t out of anger. He can’t help but smirk when Namjoon’s eyes fall to his lips. 

“It doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Taehyung lets himself laugh this time because it’s utterly ridiculous how Namjoon goes from calling him a slut to calling him a liar in the same breath. “Like I said before, aren’t you curious why your girlfriend cheated on you with me?” 

It’s the Forbidden Topic, but Taehyung thinks right now is an appropriate time to bring it up. He wants to rile Namjoon up, but now his strategy has evolved slightly. 

Before Namjoon can answer, Taehyung leans forward to rest his hand on Namjoon’s knee. He squeezes it lightly, then drags his palm up the length of Namjoon’s thigh, making sure to curve his fingertips into the inside of his thigh when he squeezes the muscle. 

“Quit it,” Namjoon whispers, but Taehyung notices that he spreads his legs. The movement is almost imperceptible, but it happens. 

“She always said she liked my mouth,” Taehyung ignores Namjoon, kneading his thigh as he speaks. “I could show you what’s so special about it.”

He can see it, the fight in Namjoon’s eyes. It’s in the way he looks at Taehyung’s mouth, then to his hand squeezing his thigh, and then back to his eyes. Eyes that Taehyung knows are dark and full of lust, but mostly mischief because this is a game. Fucking Namjoon’s girlfriend had been a game, too. It just hadn’t ended the way Taehyung wanted or expected it to. 

“C’mon, Joonie,” Taehyung whispers. He slowly moves off the couch and sinks to his knees on the floor between Namjoon’s legs. “You’ve always wanted to shut me up, right?” 

Having Taehyung between his legs must light a fire inside of Namjoon because he blinks a few times as though he’s just woken up. It’s cute how his cheeks flush a deep pink, the color intensifying as Taehyung’s long fingers begin unbuckling his belt. Taehyung wants to ruin him.

“I need you to say it,” Taehyung murmurs. Even though Namjoon willingly lifts his hips, letting Taehyung pull his jeans and underwear down to free his cock, Taehyung needs verbal confirmation. He watches Namjoon with curiosity as he brings his cock to his mouth and flicks the head with the tip of his tongue. Taehyung hasn’t sucked a dick in ages; he’s normally the one choking someone with his cock. Luckily, being out of practice won’t matter in this situation. Namjoon is already folding, and Taehyung has barely done anything. 

Namjoon’s bright eyes narrow into a hateful glare. “Fuck you.” 

“Oh, now we’re gonna do that?” Taehyung teases. “Let’s worry about me sucking you off, and then we can talk about fucking, okay, Joonie?”

He molds his lips around the tip, and Namjoon lets out a deep groan. He throws his head against the back of the couch and digs his fingers into his own thighs to keep himself rigid. 

“Fuck, fine, do it.” 

Taehyung hates when people tell him what to do, but he’ll give Namjoon a pass this time. Slipping the man’s cock down his throat is more interesting than getting into an argument. Funny how life works. He’s way too giddy with the excitement of finally getting at Kim Namjoon, the man he’s hated more than anyone else for nearly a decade. 

Taking it all at once is a mistake, though. Namjoon is more tightly wound than Taehyung had anticipated. The moment his cock hits the back of Taehyung’s throat, Namjoon practically starts crying. Taehyung eases up on his approach, going slower and not applying too much pressure. He doesn’t want to be an asshole about it, he really doesn’t, but the hum he makes around Namjoon’s cock is the closest thing to laughter that he can do with a dick in his mouth. He manages maybe two bobs of his head before he has to pull off. 

“Damn, Namjoon,” he huffs, voice low and thick. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s thigh and slowly drags his hand up his cock, avoiding the tip. “You’re such a virgin. It’s kinda embarrassing; I’m sorry.” 

Namjoon covers his face with his hands, and Taehyung can see where his blunt nails dug half moons in his thighs. “Fuck you, Taehyung.” 

“Mhm, you said that already.” Taehyung runs his tongue up his cock just to be mean, though he’s a bit afraid Namjoon might kick him from the way his body twitches. “You’re not fucking anyone with this pathetic thing.” He squeezes the base of Namjoon’s cock, also to be mean. “I’m not opposed to fucking you, though I thought you didn’t wanna be a slut.” 

Taehyung expects Namjoon to cuss him out even more, but he just stares at Taehyung’s tongue as it licks around the head of his cock. Heat builds in the pit of Taehyung’s stomach, but he does his best to ignore it. He needs to stay focused on Namjoon. Namjoon, who has yet to refuse Taehyung’s offer. 

With a quirk of his eyebrow, Taehyung sits back on his heels. “Unless you want it?” Silences. “Oh, you want it.” Taehyung bites his lip to suppress a grin, but the cockiness bleeds through his tone anyway. Namjoon already looks fucked out, and for once, the little bitch has nothing to say. It’s great; Namjoon deserves a taste of his own fucked up medicine for being such a controlling asshole in his last relationship. 

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do since you’re too nervous,” Taehyung holds up his hand when Namjoon starts to protest. “I’m going to my room to get a condom and some lube. If you’re still here when I get back, I’m gonna split you open, aight, Joonie?” Taehyung pats Namjoon’s knee and stands up. 

Taehyung is enjoying the fact that he rendered the man speechless a little too much. Part of him wouldn’t be surprised if Namjoon has his dick shoved in his pants and the door swinging behind him by the time Taehyung returns to the living room. It wouldn’t matter either way, he figures as he retrieves the items he needs from his bedroom nightstand. The damage is done regardless; it doesn’t matter how far they take it now. Besides, Taehyung wasn’t going to swallow, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to let Namjoon nut on his face. He’s got more self-respect than that, wouldn’t let Namjoon have the pleasure. 

To his pleasant surprise, Namjoon is right where Taehyung wants him - sitting pretty with his pants and underwear in a pile on the floor. He’s kept his t-shirt on, but the cardigan is gone and that’s just fine with Taehyung. The important parts are exposed and that’s all he can really ask for. 

“Don’t fucking say anything,” Namjoon hisses but it’s whinier than it is biting. 

Taehyung holds up his hands, one of them clutching the lube and a condom. “My lips are sealed, Joonie baby. Now turn around and get on your hands and knees.” 

Fuck, Taehyung never could have imagined how good saying that would feel. He doesn’t even bother hiding his triumphant grin as he strips down to only his t-shirt, mirroring Namjoon. 

Namjoon looks hot spread out for Taehyung on the couch. Despite his sharp tongue, the man is completely pliant for Taehyung as he massages his lubed-up fingers inside of him, one by one. It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to find Namjoon’s prostate. He pays special attention to the spot for a bit - just long enough for the burning tension to build inside of Namjoon and slowly drive him mad. But eventually, Taehyung steers clear of it despite a whine from the man spread open. 

“No way I’m letting you come now,” Taehyung grunts, using his knees to push Namjoon’s legs wider apart. 

It’s been a while since Taehyung has had to prep someone. Usually, when he and Jungkook fucked, Jungkook did all the work himself. Said he liked to put on a little show for Taehyung, and Taehyung isn’t ever going to deny his best friend anything. 

So maybe he rushes a bit through it, making fingering less like foreplay and more like true preparation - merely a task that must be completed before they can move forward with the night. There’s no need to be sexy or passionate; Taehyung is doing this to make a point. He fucking owns Kim Namjoon’s ass. 

“You ready?” Taehyung huffs, trying his best to sound as unaffected as possible while he rolls the condom on. It’s difficult to keep steady when he slowly slides his cock in between Namjoon’s ass, letting it drag up the curve. He rolls his hips forward to chase the pleasure, even if it’s minimal compared to what he’ll soon have. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Namjoon bites back. 

Rather than respond to his smart-ass comment, Taehyung lines his cock up and pushes through the stubborn muscles - slow enough to not hurt Namjoon too badly but fast enough to knock the air out of him. 

“Oh god,” Namjoon gasps in a voice much higher-pitched than Taehyung would have expected. Taehyung lands a stinging slap on his ass. 

“Don’t fucking clench,” Taehyung commands with a hiss, using both hands to spread Namjoon’s cheeks to better watch the way his cock, shiny with lube, slides further inside him. 

It takes a few shallow thrusts before Namjoon lets out a broken-sounding sob and completely melts into the cushion. His body rocks forward as Taehyung deepens his strokes, pulling almost all the way out to slide back in again, angling his hips to hit Namjoon’s prostate with each stroke. 

Grabbing a fistful of Namjoon’s sandy-blonde hair, Taehyung twists the man’s head to the side and pushes his upper body into the couch. When he squeezes his fist and gives a slight tug, a ragged groan rumbles from Namjoon’s chest. Taehyung already knows this isn’t going to last long. Namjoon is trembling like a leaf, and Taehyung is still going slow by his standards. It’s fine; Taehyung isn’t looking for something drawn out and sensual. He wants to fuck Namjoon hard and fast just because he wants to be able to say that he did. 

“Someone likes to be manhandled, hmm?” Taehyung snickers. Without slowing the pace of his thrusts, he leans forward to press his chest against Namjoon’s back. “Can you do something for me, Joonie?” 

Namjoon bites into his lip so hard the skin turns nearly white. Another tug on his hair almost forces out a moan, but he keeps his teeth clamped down to muffle the sound. 

“Oh, c’mon, Joonie,” Taehyung whispers against his ear. 

Taehyung’s lips brush against the curve of it before he slips his tongue out to tease the tip down to Namjoon’s earlobe. After a few flicks, he sucks it into his mouth, nibbling on it until Namjoon’s lip falls free, and a moan that sounds more like a sob escapes him. The wrecked sound makes Taehyung’s cock twitch inside him. 

“Good boy.” His praise drips poison as he straightens up to kneel between Namjoon’s legs once again. He still bucks into Namjoon, but his thrusts have slowed to a relaxed, steady pace. “Now, are you going to do what I want? It’s a good thing. I promise.” 

Namjoon nods as best as he can with Taehyung’s fingers still digging into his scalp. 

“I want you to touch yourself.” 

Namjoon lets out a whimper, but he obeys. One arm remains raised above his head, hand squeezing the arm of the couch to both ground himself and prevent his head from hitting it when Taehyung thrusts particularly hard. His other arm snakes between his body and the couch cushions. 

Although Taehyung can no longer see Namjoon’s hand, he knows he’s done what he asked by the way his arm starts to shake with the effort of fisting his hand up and down his cock. 

“See? That. Wasn’t. So. Bad.” Taehyung punctuates each word with a brutal thrust. He lifts Namjoon by the hair just enough to slightly elevate him from the cushions. The position allows Namjoon to rest on one elbow and jerk himself off more easily. 

“Y’know, next time, I think we should invite your pretty princess over, don’t you think?” Taehyung usually isn’t the type to talk during sex, but a sick part of him enjoys how Namjoon tenses with… embarrassment? Humiliation? Something, every time Taehyung mentions his ex-girlfriend. “Could fuck her and make you watch.” 

Namjoon lets out a whimper in response, and his eyes squeeze shut.  

“No? Not into that?” Taehyung lets go of his hair to hook his middle and ring fingers into the corner of Namjoon’s mouth. “Of course, you’re a greedy little bitch. You can’t just sit back and watch. That’s fine. Maybe she’d like two cocks up her pussy.” 

Taehyung brings a stinging slap to Namjoon’s ass. By this point, he’s drooling around his fingers. 

“She’s pretty tight, though. Not sure she could handle it.” 

“F-Fuck y-y-ou,” Namjooon stutters. 

Taehyung is sure it’s meant to be biting, but he says it through the most debauched moan once Taehyung slips his fingers out of his mouth that all the statement does is turn Taehyung on more. 

“You’re the only one getting fucked,” he points out with a grin Namjoon can only catch out of the corner of his eye. 

“T-Then, d-do it, you piece of s-shit,” Namjoon says with a shallow breath. 

He’s going to come soon. Taehyung can tell by the way he slumps face-first into the couch. It’s perfect timing because Taehyung’s steady pace is starting to slip. He leans forward and wraps his arm around Namjoon’s waist, batting his hand away from his cock to replace it with his own. 

“Ohh f-fuck.” Namjoon’s moans are muffled by the cushion, but Taehyung’s pressed close enough against him that he can just make out the other man’s pathetic cries. “Taehyung.” 

“C’mon, Joonie, that’s right.” 

Namjoon’s cock is slick with precum. Taehyung pays special attention to the head, squeezing it and rolling his palm over the tip, doing his best to match his hand’s movements with the rhythm of him pounding into Namjoon. His whimpering makes every nerve ending in Taehyung’s body tingle with pleasure; he can practically see himself crackle and pop like a live wire as Namjoon falls apart under him. 

“You gonna come for me, Joonie?” Taehyung digs his teeth into Namjoon’s shoulder just hard enough to make him squirm. “Come all over yourself ‘cause I fuck you so good?” 

When Namjoon doesn’t respond, Taehyung slides his fist down to squeeze the base of his cock. The action makes Namjoon jolt with a cry of frustration. 

“Fuck! Taehyung, fuck y-you-” 

“I wanna hear you say it. Fucking say it, Joonie.” Taehyung pushes Namjoon deeper into the cushions. “Or do you want me to stop?” 

“No!” It’s pathetic the way Namjoon whines. Taehyung has to bite his bottom lip and focus on the pain there to stop himself from coming. 

“Then fucking say it.” 

“Fuck, okay,” Namjoon is panting, and his voice wavers with each brutal thrust. “You fuck me, so, fuck, so good. Ohh, Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung, please.” 

It only takes a few pumps before he feels Namjoon shiver and lock up beneath him, and warmth spills into the palm of Taehyung’s hand. 

Knowing that he’s fucked Kim Namjoon, the man he hates most in the world, is a pleasure so deep that only sweet revenge could foster it. But knowing Kim Namjoon had moaned his name when he made him come? It’s enough to simultaneously send Taehyung over the edge and inflate his ego. 

“Shit,” Taehyung curses as he comes. “Fuck.” 

Slumping into Namjoon’s back, Taehyung’s weight pushes him all the way into the couch. They’re sweaty, and the cum on Taehyung’s hand is disgusting; it’s always his least favorite part about fucking guys. It’s messy and sticky, and he doesn’t know what to do aside from smearing his hand on Namjoon’s t-shirt in a poor attempt to clean himself up. 

With a deep breath, Taehyung lifts himself up to a sitting position to allow Namjoon to roll onto his back. His glasses are askew, barely hanging onto his face, and his hair is a mess. He looks utterly wrecked, and Taehyung knows it’s not just his ego telling him that. 

“Good?” He asks with a smirk. Namjoon’s answer won’t matter because they both know the truth.