#v x reader

She turned her head, finding him much closer than she expected, his arm resting casually on the counter, his eyes locked on hers like he already knew her answer.

“Depends on who’s asking,” she said, matching his tone.

His mouth curved into something between a smirk and a dare. “Taehyung.”

He didn’t offer a hand. Just a name, like it was enough.

The bartender appeared, and without looking away from her, Taehyung ordered something—something expensive, judging by the slight raise of the bartender’s brow. Then he turned the glass toward her instead of himself.

“You strike me as someone who could use something stronger than… whatever that is,” he said, nodding at her drink.

Normally, she would have bristled. But there was something about him that made her lean into it instead of away.

One drink became two. Two became three. By the time they were leaning in close, shoulders brushing, his hand resting dangerously near her thigh, she’d stopped wondering why her pulse wouldn’t slow down.

When he finally said, “Wanna get out of here?” it wasn’t even a question.

They didn’t speak much on the walk to the hotel. The silence wasn’t awkward—if anything, it was charged. Y/N’s heels clicked against the pavement in quick rhythm, but Taehyung’s steps were slower, confident, like he knew exactly where this night was going and didn’t need to rush.

By the time the elevator doors slid shut, his hand was already at her waist, pulling her in until her back met the mirrored wall. His breath was warm against her ear when he spoke.

“You’ve been looking at me like you want me to ruin you all night,” he murmured, his tone low, dangerous.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t get the chance to answer—his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. His hands roamed like he had every right to touch her, sliding over her hips, gripping the curve of her ass through her dress. She gasped into the kiss when he squeezed, and he used the opening to lick into her mouth, deep and claiming.

When the elevator dinged, he pulled back just enough to smirk at her swollen lips. “Room 804. Move.”

She barely remembered the walk down the hall before they were inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Taehyung was on her instantly, spinning her so her back hit the door, his hands braced on either side of her head. “You like giving control away, sweetheart?”

Her pulse jumped. “Maybe.”

“That’s not an answer.” His hand slid up her thigh, dragging the hem of her dress with it. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and his grin widened like he’d been waiting for it.

The dress was gone before she could think about modesty, pooling at her feet while he drank in the sight of her. He didn’t bother hiding the hunger in his eyes as he pressed her against the door again, his thumb grazing her already-damp panties.

“Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “So wet for me already. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice breaking slightly.

“Not good enough.” He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes locked. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

That earned her a kiss so deep it stole the air from her lungs. He pulled her toward the bed, stripping off his own jacket and shirt on the way. His body was lean, toned, and every movement screamed cocky self-assurance.

When she reached for his belt, he caught her wrists, pushing her down onto the mattress. “Uh-uh. You don’t touch unless I say you can.”

He knelt between her thighs, dragging her panties down slowly, like he wanted her to squirm. When he tossed them aside, he spread her knees wide, his gaze dark and heavy as it roamed over her.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The words made heat pool low in her belly. She obeyed, and he smirked like she’d just handed him the win. His fingers were on her first—slow at the start, teasing—then rougher, curling deep until her back arched off the bed.

“Such a good little thing,” he murmured, watching her writhe. “You take my fingers so well. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

When she was a mess beneath him, he finally freed himself, the sight of him making her mouth go dry. He didn’t rush, just stroked himself lazily while looking her over like she was something he owned already.

Then he was over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other guiding himself to her entrance. “This is going to ruin you for anyone else.”

And he was right. The thrust was deep, hard, making her cry out. He fucked her like he had something to prove, his hips snapping against hers, each thrust punctuated by filthy praise and taunts—telling her how tight she was, how perfect she felt, how she was made for him to use.

When she clawed at his back, he caught her wrists again, pinning them above her head. “Stay still. Take it. That’s all you have to do.”

Her moans filled the room, mixing with the slap of skin and his ragged breathing. He bent down to bite her neck, licking over the mark after. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes—oh god—”

“Do it. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

When she did, it was intense, shattering, her body tightening around him in pulsing waves. He fucked her through it, groaning when he spilled inside her, his thrusts finally slowing.

He kissed her once more—slow this time—before pulling back, that smirk returning. “Told you. Ruined.”

Y/N woke to an empty bed.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the dent in the pillow where his head had been. The sheets smelled like him—clean soap, faint cologne, and something darker she couldn’t quite place. The memories from last night flashed back in sharp, heated fragments: the elevator, his hands, his voice in her ear telling her exactly what to do.

Her thighs ached in the best way.

Rolling onto her back, she caught sight of the clock. Late. She groaned, dragging herself up and finding her dress crumpled on the floor. There was no note. No phone number. Just the echo of his smirk burned into her brain.

By the time she slid into a booth at the little café near her apartment, her best friend, Mina, was already there—iced coffee in hand and a knowing grin on her face.

“You’re late,” Mina said, eyes dropping to Y/N’s oversized hoodie and messy hair. “And… you look like you just rolled out of bed. From someone else’s bed.”

Y/N bit her lip, sliding into the seat. “Okay, so… I might have had a night.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “Tell me everything.”

Y/N leaned in, lowering her voice even though the café wasn’t crowded. “Met him at the bar. Tall, hot, this stupid cocky smirk that should have been illegal. He bought me a drink and—” She stopped, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Mina, it was… the best sex of my life.”

“Oh my god.” Mina covered her mouth, then dropped her hand. “Details. Now.”

Y/N looked around once more before continuing. “He was… rough. But perfect. Said all the right things, like he could read my mind. At one point—” She paused, shivering at the memory. “At one point he looked at me and said ‘open up for me, sweetheart’. And I did. Like instantly. I didn’t even think.”

Mina fanned herself dramatically. “Okay, keep going.”

“He wouldn’t let me touch him unless he said so,” Y/N admitted, smirking a little. “And when I came, he—god—he told me he wanted to feel me fall apart around him. It was filthy. I loved every second of it.”

Mina shook her head, grinning. “So when’s round two?”

Y/N’s smirk faded just a little. “That’s the thing… when I woke up, he was gone. No note. No number. Nothing.”

Mina raised a brow. “Mysterious. Maybe he’ll pop up again.”

Y/N stirred her coffee, trying to hide how much she hoped so. “Yeah… maybe.”

But even as they switched topics, she knew she’d recognize that smirk anywhere—and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find him, or if she should run the other way if she did.

The sizzle of garlic in the pan filled her small kitchen, the scent curling warm and familiar through the air. Y/N moved lazily between the counter and the stove, wooden spoon in hand, humming faintly to herself. The TV was on in the living room, volume low—background noise she barely paid attention to most nights.

“…in other news, police are still investigating the underground street racing gang suspected in a string of high-end car thefts across the city…”

She half-listened, tossing the pasta into the pot, steam clouding up in front of her.

“…the group is believed to be highly organized, with members able to bypass advanced security systems in minutes. Authorities have yet to identify any suspects, but earlier this week, surveillance audio captured what they believe to be the gang’s leader…”

Her hand froze on the spoon.

“…the voice was recorded whispering something to himself while working to unlock a car. Investigators say it could be a personal quirk—possibly a code phrase. We warn viewers, the clip is faint but clear.”

She turned toward the living room without meaning to, her brows knitting together as the reporter continued.

And then—

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t grainy enough to hide the tone. That deep, low rumble. The way the word sweetheart curled at the edges, dripping with command.

Y/N’s whole body went rigid, the steam from the stove curling around her as her mind stuttered.

No. No, it couldn’t be—

But the moment it hit her ears, her body remembered. The weight of him above her. The heat of his breath against her ear. That exact same line, whispered while she lay beneath him, trembling, her back arching into his touch.

Her knees felt unsteady.

The anchor kept speaking, explaining how police hoped the clip might lead to tips from the public, but she barely heard a word. Her heart thudded in her chest as they played it again.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

She stumbled toward the couch, grabbing the remote with shaky fingers, rewinding. Playing it again. And again. Every repetition sent a sharp shiver down her spine.

It was him. It was Taehyung.

She sank onto the couch, her dinner forgotten in the kitchen, the only thing she could hear was his voice filling the quiet apartment—over and over—until it was impossible to deny the truth.

The man who’d given her the best night of her life was the leader of a gang the police couldn’t catch.

And she knew that voice better than anyone.

The garage smelled like motor oil and adrenaline. The hum of a stripped-down Nissan idled low in the background, the hood up, exposed wiring glinting under the harsh white lights. Taehyung was crouched beside it, a smudge of grease on his forearm, his focus razor-sharp on the delicate lock bypass he’d been perfecting.

The metallic click of the door opening announced Jimin before his voice did.

“They got your voice on tape,” Jimin said flatly, stepping inside.

Taehyung didn’t look up right away, just kept working, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Cops get lots of things on tape. Doesn’t mean they know what they’re listening to.”

Jimin leaned against the workbench, arms crossed. “This time, they’re playing it on the damn news.”

That made Taehyung pause. Slowly, he straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Let me hear it.”

Jimin pulled out his phone, scrolling, then hit play.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The voice—his voice—rolled out into the garage, low and intimate even in the grainy recording.

And Taehyung froze.

Because he remembered saying it. Not here. Not to himself over a lock. But to her. Weeks ago, her knees open under his hands, her eyes glassy with need, the little breathless yes she’d given him right after.

Heat flared low in his gut, memory slamming into him so hard it stole his breath.

Her soft gasps as he slid into her. The way she squeezed around him, so fucking tight it had him gritting his teeth. The sight of her arching under him, mouth falling open as she obeyed every filthy word he gave her.

He hadn’t been able to hook up with anyone since. Not for lack of trying—he’d had offers. But every time he touched someone else, it felt wrong. They weren’t her. They didn’t make his control slip the way she did.

He tossed the rag onto the bench and grabbed his jacket.

Jimin blinked. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Out,” Taehyung said, already heading for the door.

“That’s it? You’re not even gonna—”

“Lock up the garage when you’re done,” he cut in, not slowing.

Jimin’s voice followed him out. “You’re not telling me something.”

Taehyung didn’t bother answering. He was already in the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life. His mind wasn’t on the job, or the risk, or the cops—it was on Y/N. On the way she’d looked up at him that night. On the sound she’d made when he told her to open up for him.

And if she’d seen that news clip…

He pressed harder on the gas. He needed to see her.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came.

Y/N froze halfway through brushing her teeth, the sound echoing through her quiet apartment. No one came by this late. No one except—

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t need to look through the peephole. There was only one person who would knock like that—three firm raps, a pause, then two more.

She pulled on her robe, tying the belt tighter as she stepped into the hall. And there he was.

Taehyung stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, hood up, shadows hiding half his face. But his eyes… she’d know them anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low but steady.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You know why I’m here.”

She crossed her arms, the robe tugging tighter across her chest. “Do I?”

His gaze sharpened. “I know you know it’s me. It’s all over the news.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “The second I heard it… I knew.” She swallowed, fingers tightening on the robe belt. “It was you.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

“But I’m not going to tell anyone,” she continued. “I don’t care what you’ve done… it’s not my business. But it means we can’t—” She hesitated, the words catching. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

Something flickered in his expression—amusement, maybe, or defiance. Then he stepped closer, close enough for her to smell the faint trace of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body.

“You really think I’m going to walk away that easy?” he murmured.

Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. His mouth was hot, demanding, pulling a sharp gasp from her before she melted against him. Her hands were at his chest, meaning to push him back—but instead, they curled into his jacket as his tongue slid against hers, his body crowding hers into the doorframe.

She kissed him back. Hard. Like she’d been starving for it.

When she finally broke away, breathless, her hand pressed lightly to his chest—not shoving, but holding him there. “You have to stop coming here.”

He didn’t move for a beat, eyes locked on hers, lips curved in that infuriating smirk. But when she stepped back, he let her go.

She turned, retreating inside without looking back, the door clicking shut between them.

In the dark of her bedroom, she lay staring at the ceiling, heart still pounding.

What the hell was going on in her life?

----------------

The night air was thick with gasoline, smoke, and bass-heavy music that rattled the cracked pavement. Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, watching the chaos unfold.

Mina had dragged her here, bright-eyed with her new boyfriend in tow, gushing about how “street racing is way more fun than it sounds.” Y/N had almost said no. But maybe, she thought, it was time to put Taehyung firmly in the past. Maybe she could meet someone new tonight. Someone who didn’t vanish after wrecking her self-control, and definitely someone who wasn’t a walking red flag.

Engines roared at the starting line, headlights flaring against the dark. Y/N let her gaze wander over the lineup—sleek bodies of metal and chrome, paint jobs that gleamed under the scattered floodlights.

Then one particular car rolled forward.

It was impossible not to notice. Low to the ground, jet black with tinted windows that hid the driver completely—until the glass began to roll down.

Her stomach dropped.

Taehyung.

----------------------

Chapter 3. Courir Vite!

"Meet me at Rue de Lorraine street, I'll pick you up."

"To return your ribbon… of course"

Disbelief was no longer a stranger to you. The feeling of your head spinning, pace quickening, and shoulders tensing visited you ad nauseam. The shock of seeing a message from V has slammed into you again and again. It should have worn out by now; the excitement should have dulled. But no, it is as though a new match sparked inside you each time you looked at the messages. As hot and bright as the one before. Your eyes lingered on the last message before you ripped your gaze from your phone, returning to the outside world. You then began your journey, weaving through the crowd. Looking around, a sad wistfulness etched itself onto everyone's features. This, you thought to yourself, was something you sympathised with, but could not relate to. For their night was now ending, but yours just now beginning. 

Your boots clicked against the cement pavement outside the stadium. The further you walked, the quieter the post-concert bustle was. Soon, the commotion was reduced to soft murmurs from the few around you—mixed with the gentle chirps of the crickets. Your head finally felt clear after what seemed like a millennium of chaos. You breathed in deep—the fresh smell of the night and woodfire entered your body. The calmness of the environment demanded one to feel tranquil. Nonetheless, your hands shook. You wiped the sweat off your brow and took a shuddering breath. It still did not feel real that you would be seeing Kim Taehyung. You still had your reservations despite the paramount evidence indicating that it would be him. It could be a coincidence. You could be walking into something dangerous. Wasn't it a little silly to agree to be driven by a stranger in the dead of night? Your walking slowed. In a city you didn't know? You stopped. That spoke a language foreign to you? You slowly turned on your heel. 

As you began to retreat, you heard the low purr of a vehicle. You turned your head to examine the sound. The car next to you slowed to a stop. And what a car it was. The mirror-polished black supercar was a testament to obscene wealth. Before you could make the connection, the tinted windows lowered smoothly. The first thing that caught your eye was a dash of white fabric. Your ribbon. It was all you could make out in contrast to the darkness of the street, the car, the silhouette. So if that was your ribbon, then the person holding it must be…

Your heart thrummed in your chest. Again, you froze at the hypothetical. You entered that liminal state of denying and expecting. Your eyes had not yet proven what your mind told you. His entire being was an enigma. All your interactions wore a thick, shrouded veil. Be it a haze of alcohol, the barrier of a phone screen, or the cloak of darkness between you two now. There was always a separation. This was why doubts littered your mind. The detachment served as a cocoon of protection - denial that this was real at all. Like a moth to a flame, you gravitated towards the flurry of white. Timidly, you reached a shaking hand out to retrieve the ribbon. As the material grazed your fingertips, you felt it whip back into the void of darkness. You scoffed.

"You have got to be kidding", you scorned, the wall of darkness and denial providing a morsel of confidence. 

"I'm so sorry, I can't seem to reach that far." You could recognise that rich velvety voice anywhere. The teasing line turned the cold air warm, kissing its way from your ears throughout your body. After a beat of silence, the door in front of you slowly pushed open. You stared at the gap left ajar. The darkness between the door and the vehicle held fear and uncertainty, but above all, thrummed with opportunity. The wordless invitation hung in the air, so daunting. Yet so terribly thrilling. You took a deep breath, then pushed the door open. Sliding into the passenger seat, you searched for the door handle and shut it behind you. You locked your vision onto the door in fear of turning around. Slowly, you forced yourself to face the silhouette.

In that moment, the aforementioned cocoon of safety was torn to shreds. What you were met with was raw reality. Kim Taehyung stared back at you. His features were more handsome, deeper, and more real than any form of media could wish to portray. His dark eyes scanned your face, not worried, not smug, but interested. A light smile threatened to tug at his full lips. You felt like prey crossing predator territory - his presence was crushing, and he knew it. You finally broke the silence, scrummaging every morsel of confidence. "I don't think I've introduced myself", you started, "I'm _____". 

"Nice to meet you ____, I am Taehyung" he spoke serenely, outstretching his hand for you to shake. It was almost comical, him sharing his name as if it wasn't your first and last thought every day. You took his hand into yours, his long fingers enveloped yours. He smelt of a rich musky cologne. That and a faint tint of sweat. Not in an odourful way, but in a way that smelt like a man. This scent almost drove you insane. He still wore his performance clothes, his face dusted with a faint glow. As your skin touched his, a pulse ran through your arm. He felt like something you shouldn't touch, an artefact in the museum. It felt like someone should slap your hand away and scold you. But no one did. 

"Thank you for inviting me in your car", you expressed, offering a soft smile. A light 'hm' was all you received. His commanding composure held a stark contrast to your nerves. He was transfixed on your face, taking his sweet time to drink in each feature of yours shamelessly. You shifted in your seat, the air suddenly becoming stuffy and hot. "Sooo…" you trailed. You clasped your hands into your lap, elbows locking as your posture tightened. "Why has V of BTS invited me into his car? I feel like the last time you saw me, I did not give off an excellent impression," you questioned apprehensively. Leaning back against the seat, Taehyung crossed his arms. He drew a sharp breath through his teeth as a thoughtful expression graced his face.

"You promise not to let this get to your head?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he gave you a sidelong glance. Taken aback, you nodded–too eagerly. "Well, at first I…", he trailed off. His eyes weren't trained on you anymore, but on something behind you. His expression faltered, widened eyes flicking between yours and the subject. Nothing could have prepared you for the horror as you turned around. A cold chill rippled throughout your body. Right next to you, a face pushed against the tinted window. Their skin plastered onto the pane, smearing their features into grotesque proportions. Within seconds, they unstuck their face from the window and began screaming. Akin to a blaring alarm, their voice boomed, "Taehyung is in this car! With a girl!" Slowly, you turned to him, only to find the same dread written on his face. 

After a breathless pause, came a whirlwind of chaos. "Oh my god," you started. Like a broken record, you repeated the phrase again and again. He swiftly started the car whilst speaking over you. "We're leaving now, we don't have much time," he quickly yanked his seatbelt on. "Did you put your seatbelt on?" His words barely registered as your head spun. His frantic movements, the sound of you both talking over each other, the blinding shutter of camera flashes growing around you as the screaming horde approached, were all too much. They saw you, your face would be all over the news, you shouldn't have done this, your life is over, you'll be shunned from society, without friends, without safety, without– Just as your panic threatened to swallow you whole, a hand touched your shoulder and anchored you back into the car. "Breathe," Taehyung spoke, gentle enough you'd almost think it wasn't a command. The other hand reached around you, grabbing the seatbelt on your side. He was mere inches away from you, and the fragrance of his cologne wrapped around you. The small distance between your bodies was charged with warmth and awareness. Taehyung pulled at the seatbelt and pushed it into the clasp, his knuckles lightly brushing the outside of your thigh. With a quick maneuver of the gear shift, the car roared, then screeched, as he pulled into the street. Your back pressed against the seat cushion as the car propelled forward at an impossible speed. The street lights turned into a blur of shooting stars, the cars dashes of grey, and the trees dashes of green. 

"Shit," he muttered. "Paparazzi vans are following us," his deep voice reverberated. The tension in the car was palpable. Following what felt like an eon of lefts and rights, you spotted an off-road track hidden between a thick wall of trees. "Turn in here!" you exclaimed. Without a beat of hesitation, he swerved into the track, the back wheels dragging across the road. You traversed the dirt road for around a minute, the only light around you being the headlights. The end itself was surrounded by thick forest—the looming trees stood like tall sentinels, promising no escape. Taehyung switched the car off as the headlights went out; what used to be dim outlines of trees turned pitch-black. 

Finally, there was silence. Finally, there was stillness. The security of the surrounding trees and the comfort of the darkness helped ease most of your anxiety. You took a deep breath in, compensating for holding your breath for the entire ride. In unison, both you and Taehyung sighed. You both looked at each other in surprise. The tension in the car quickly melted away as a shared laugh escaped both of you. 

"So how often do you get into car chases with girls after your concerts?" you quipped, your finger tracing circles around the armrest. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the intimacy of it all, that made the words slip out of your mouth before you thought. He then laughed. It wasn't an awkward laugh. It wasn't forced either. It was a deep, warm laugh. Almost boyish as his cheeks heated in embarrassment.

"Not many," Taehyung admitted, the outline of his head shaking regretfully. "Why, jealous?" he interrogated, amusement threading into his voice.

Your finger stopped tracing circles. "Not at all, I don't even know you." You cringed at how blatant the lie was; of course, you knew him, almost everyone did. However, he would never figure out the extent to which you did. 

"That's true," he drawled, his body shifting to face yours. "Well, since my older sister canceled, I thought I would hang out with you."

"You don't have an older sister, you have two younger siblings," you corrected. The words yet again escaped your mouth before your brain could protest. Correcting him was like muscle memory. A smug "ah" escaped his lips, knowing his conniving scheme caught you in your tracks. The car suddenly felt unbearably hot, you thought of jumping out and running away. Until you heard him chuckle, you glanced up to see him already looking at you. The soft glow of moonlight tracing his perfect features. His eyes glistened in the dark, the kind of eyes that could hold someone captive forever. 

Without any physical indication, the air shifted from playful into something deeper. More intimate. Something that left your chest to rise a little higher and fall a little lower. Something that made you squeeze your legs together. And he felt it too. You knew he felt it when his eyes trained on your thighs as they pushed together—then back to your eyes. You knew he felt it when his gaze settled on your lips. He leaned in painfully slowly, tilting his head to the side and licking his lips. His presence was overpowering; you felt like shrinking as he prowled towards you. Just as he was about to close the distance between you, his phone began to blare. You both jolted in unison.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and muttered something. You didn't register what he said, as you were fighting your own battle in that moment. What just happened? Despite the dark, you were acutely aware of how red your face was. 

"I'm so sorry ____, I have to take this," said Taehyung; his eyes brimming with apology and remorse. You quickly dismissed the apology with a waving hand. Shifting your body away from him, you looked out the window in an attempt to provide him a sense of privacy for the phone call. However, it was simply impossible not to eavesdrop. 

"Hello?" Taehyung started. The voice on the other line sounded rushed. The person whispered urgently, "Tae, where are you right now?!" Shuffling then filled their side of the call, as though they were using the phone in secret. 

"Don't worry about it," Taehyung replied. 

"Don't worry about it? Tae, you need to get here NOW," the voice, which sounded a whole lot like Jimin, hissed.

Taehyung readjusted in his seat, clearly taken aback from the unexpected severity of the call. "Why? Am I in trouble?" he questioned.

"Tae it's bad, you–", more muffled voices sounded from the other line. "Oh no, I have to go. HURRY. NOW!" Jimin squeezed the final plea before ending the call.

Without words, Taehyung started the car again. "I'm sorry, we have to go now. If Jimin is this freaked out… it must be bad." He placed his hand behind your headrest as he looked behind to reverse the car. You studied his stern features, his jaw was set; his expression unreadable. Without warning, his gaze snapped towards you. "You okay?" he spoke softly. The sudden attention to you threw you off slightly.

"Yes, well, won't the fans still be out there?" you questioned, remembering the severity of your escapade with V. 

He sucked in his teeth as he continued to reverse, "Maybe… But I'm going for the lesser of the two evils." He then looked back at you with a smile. "Also, this car drives fast."

The remainder of the ride flew by. Metaphorically and literally, as Taehyung showed no mercy on the gas pedal. You moved too fast to even register whether there were any paparazzi vans around. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Before you knew it, Taehyung pulled into a driveway guarded by black iron gates, their thin structure curling into classic French grandeur. He drove to a post and punched in a code, causing the gates to slide open. You could not restrain your gasp as you beheld the mansion set in front of you. Even in the dark, the building was breathtaking. Ivy climbed the limestone walls. The windows were set out in rows, each adorned with baroque detailing typical of European architecture. You were so entranced with the scenery that you did not notice Taehyung step out of the car. You snapped back into the moment when your door opened. V stepped aside as he held it ajar. You stepped out of the car, your boots emitting a soft click as they hit the ground. You then both began walking to the building. He walked with urgency; you walked with hesitation. The gap between you widened the closer you approached the entrance. 

"What is this place exactly?" you squeaked, your voice sounding far more timid than intended. 

He turned around and stopped for you to catch up. "This is what we are renting for our stay in Paris," Taehyung replied.

"We?" you implored. 

"Well, all of the members, of course," Taehyung responded, shifting slightly as though he was agitated by the delay of entrance. You had no time to process the possibility of meeting all the members as he took your hand and dragged you forward.

Thank you for reading!