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suga-kookiemonster · 7 months ago
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let it snow | kth
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part of the once upon a holiday collab with @underthejoon​ @fantasybangtan​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @lamourche​ @hobidreams​ and @junghelioseok​!
summary⇢ it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized. pairing⇢ taehyung/reader word count⇢ 18.8k 😩🤦🏽‍♀️  rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | fluff | fwb!au | snowed in!au warnings⇢ sexual content, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, a decent amount of netflix and chilling because they’re stuck in the house and horny, a lot of domesticity because mmm, that’s that good stuff 😌, angst, pininggggg
a/n⇢ it’s finally here!! 🙌🏾 i really procrastinated and let it fester until i was forced to churn 19k out in a couple weeks, huh ☠️☠️ classic me lmao. here’s to better planning in the new year! 🤣mood for this fic is this. hope you enjoy! 😊
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“Didn’t you wear that sweater last year?” Seokjin asks, though he already knows the answer. Really, the only reason he’s asking you is to give himself room to segue into the topic of your perceived lack of holiday cheer. 
“Yup! And I’m gonna wear it next year, too,” you reply breezily, forever unbothered by the judgmental scrunch of his nose. You gesture down the length of your chest, where a woven Christmas tree with real flashing Christmas lights proudly sits beneath the words Get Lit.  “This fucker cost sixty-nine ninety-five and I plan on getting my money’s worth.”
“How do you think you’re ever going to win our annual ugly sweater contest if you just keep recycling the same one?” Jin points out as he puts his final touches on a rather beautiful charcuterie board. As the member of your friend group who thrives off of playing the gracious host, he would usually also be dumping cheap vodka down someone’s throat. But due to your various schedules, your friend group has been forced to have your annual get-together a bit too late for those kind of shenanigans this year. Road trips and train rides and being squished on airplanes can already be a bit of a headache, but adding navigating the holiday rush with a raging hangover? Yeah…everyone is smartly playing it safe tonight. So wine and cheese it is—though that doesn’t bother you one bit. If it were socially acceptable and wouldn’t give you scurvy, you would live off that shit. 
Seokjin’s own sweater this year is delightfully horrendous, a printed on mockery of a suit and bowtie. The visually-jarring combination of olive green and a murky red—all against a repulsive santa hat print—definitely makes him a solid contender for this year’s winner.
Still, that makes you no less satisfied with your own choice of attire. “You really think I’m gonna buy a new one every year when I only wear them once?” you ask incredulously, successfully swiping a grape before he can swat your hand away. “Hey, at least I bothered to change the batteries in this thing! That’s a lot of effort for a sweater.”
“You’re no fun,” he pouts, lifting the tray to take to the others. 
You easily trail after him into the living room, sipping on the mulled wine he had poured for you before you had even slipped your shoes off. God, you loved when Seokjin hosted parties. “You weren’t saying that that time I drank Yoongi under the table.”
“That’s not hard to do. Yoongi has two good drinks and goes to bed.”
“Two drinks of hard liquor, so that’s irrelevant! I still drank more. And you’re conveniently forgetting that it was some sort of fancy scotch and it was icky, so I should be awarded bonus fun points.”
Yoongi himself, casually splayed across the sofa, looks up at the sound his name, but remains entirely nonplussed. His sweater has a big picture of that one internet cat making a face at vegetables that is always getting yelled at in memes by one of those rich white reality tv housewives. The hilarity of it almost makes you regret your choice not to get a new sweater this year. Almost. “You may have drank more,” he drawls, “but I seem to recall you being the one under the table at the end of the night.”
You internally wince at the memory—or, to be more accurate, the lack of—as you promptly make yourself comfortable between him and Taehyung, who is snickering at you. Tae had been the one to pull you from under said table, to take you home. “My point still stands.”
“That’s because you were pretty wasted before the scotch,” Jimin pipes up.
“Most people with common sense have to be wasted to drink scotch,” you quip, grinning pointedly at Yoongi. As expected, he doesn’t take the bait—simply gives you a flat stare and takes a sip from his own wine mug. It takes a lot to rile up your dark-haired friend, and so you often amuse yourself by teasing him to see if you can. 
Jimin laughs. He’s curled up in an opposite armchair, his girlfriend Nia seated comfortably on his lap. Normally, you would find this blatant sort of PDA annoying, but these two are adorable, so you let it slide, simply happy that your friend has found someone who makes him happy. Nia has been a bizarrely seamless addition to your little group—enough so that Jimin felt comfortable including her in your holiday tradition of exchanging gifts. So unless they start to get handsy, you refuse to make a big deal out of it and be as big of a Scrooge as Seokjin claims you are.
You feel Taehyung shift, and when you turn, he is already looking at you, amusement dancing across his features. “Nice sweater,” he says. 
“Thanks. I put a lot of thought into it.” You bite the inside of your lip to dampen your own smile. “Yours is pretty snazzy yourself.”
The sweater in question is printed with a complicated Where’s Waldo illustration, and you can’t help but run a finger across the material of his arm in search of the striped character.
“Cold,” Tae says, and when you respond by trailing your finger over to his chest, where a suspiciously-large group of santas are congregated, you feel his body tense a bit in response. “Warmer.”
“Check his nipples,” Hoseok yells from across the room. You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring the way Jimin bursts into laughter at the suggestion. Taehyung flicks an eyebrow in challenge.
“Or the armpit,” Namjoon offers helpfully. “If I were hiding on a sweater, I’d pick an armpit.”
“Hmmm, that’s a fair point. Up!” you command, and Taehyung laughs and lifts his arms without complaint, allowing you to properly inspect his armpits for the elusive character. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to find what you’re looking for there, you take another sip of your wine and dutifully turn your attention back to his chest, intending to search in earnest. 
But before you can, the speakers next to the couch spring to life, startling you a bit. Despite your initial confusion, you slowly start to recognize the familiar tune of Frosty the Snowman, jumbled over an EDM beat. It’s loud and extra and toeing the edge annoying, and your head immediately snaps to Jungkook, who declared himself the DJ of the party years ago and has stubbornly refused to give up the position ever since. He grins at you, clear mischief in his eyes, and you know then that he’s only playing the abomination to annoy the living shit out of everyone.
Though Seokjin’s busy being a good host and passing out cups of spiked eggnog, you can see how well Jungkook’s plan is working by the flush spreading up his neck. “I thought I told you to play Mariah,” he huffs over the racket as he hands Nia hers.
Jungkook looks nonchalantly at his phone, where he’s projecting his supposedly carefully curated playlist via bluetooth. “She’s on here.”
“What about Dean Martin?” Taehyung asks. “You know, the classics? Or literally anything else.”
You snort. Taehyung’s music taste has been known to sometimes overlap with Jungkook’s, so for him to be so visibly disgusted, you know it’s bad. “What about that one chipmunk song?” you suggest.
Jungkook winks at you, shoots you some finger guns. “Already got you, boo.”
“Oh god,” you groan, glaring at Yoongi when he starts snickering at you. “I was totally kidding.”
“Well, I wasn’t!” Jungkook says cheerfully. He has to yell a little bit to be heard over the booming bass. “When it comes to Christmas bops, I never kid.”
 You groan louder. “Jungkookie. Please!”
“I don’t know—I kinda like it,” Alexa pipes up, and you have to put forth actual effort to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. Alexa is Hoseok’s newest fling, and while Nia slots into your group dynamic easily, Alexa, in your opinion, is a bit of an airhead. She’s pretty, but you would bet actual money that she’s the type to think Chicken of the Sea is chicken—and you’re pretty sure she’s not even filming for a reality show, so she truly has no excuse. But that seems to be Hobi’s type—someone who is easy on the eyes and won’t try to force him to commit. To be honest, you’re pretty surprised that she’s lasted long enough to make it to your friend group’s borderline-sacred holiday get-together, but you’re even more surprised that Hobi actually bothered to bring her.
“Thank you, Alexa,” Jungkook says pointedly, and frankly he probably has a better chance at annoying Yoongi tonight than you do. “You have great taste.”
You must be making some sort of face, because Namjoon takes one look at you and sucks his lips into a straight line, just like he always does when he’s trying not to laugh inappropriately at something. 
“At least turn it down a little,” Seokjin sighs. “You already made my neighbors file a noise complaint on me on Halloween. I’m not trying to get another one.”
“Hey, you were the one screaming on Halloween, not me.”
“Because we were watching a movie about demons! You told me we were gonna watch Air Bud!”
“To be fair,” Taehyung pipes up, “nobody watches that on Halloween. So you walked into that one.”
“You know that’s my favorite movie,” Jin protests loudly. “And for the record, Hobi screamed louder than me!”
Hoseok just shrugs. “I don’t handle the supernatural well. Especially when the supernatural are little kids. Give me old lady ghosts any day.” 
Seokjin and Jungkook keep bickering, but that honestly is just a testament to how close they are. In fact, your whole little group is rather close, and it’s actually bizarre to think about how these are your closest friends, because when you stop to consider it, you’re all here, in Seokjin’s living room sipping on delightfully festive cocktails, by pure chance. 
Your sophomore year of college, Yoongi, your roommate’s boyfriend, was often over your apartment. The two of you became friendly, and when they ended up breaking up, he never broke up with you. (You’ve never felt particularly bad about that, because your roommate was more of an acquaintance than anything else. You lost touch with her once the lease was up, anyway.) Namjoon and Hoseok were in the same music theory class as Yoongi, and the three of them have made music together ever since. Seokjin used to be Namjoon’s favorite bartender at his favorite bar. Jimin frequented the same dance class as Hoseok. Taehyung is Jimin’s best friend from childhood. Tae befriended Jungkook over some online game he was obsessed with at the time, and when they realized they lived in the same general area, he made the—in your opinion—stupid decision to meet up with him. (It all turned out for the best, of course. Because that’s the kind of luck Taehyung has—he draws people to him without trying, his good energy attracting only more good energy.) 
And that’s exactly how you would describe this friend group the universe allowed you to stumble into—good energy. Good vibes. Well, that was certainly how you would describe it when Jungkook wasn’t blasting a screamo version of Silent Night. Which he was. Right. Now.
“Hey,” Namjoon yells over the ruckus, leaning closer to Tae to be heard better. “Where’s Jisoo? Did she not want to come?”
One breath, two. Something in the universe shifts, just slightly.
“Jisoo?” you repeat. Your brain shuffles through any logical possibilities before confusedly settling on the pretty girl Hobi had set Taehyung up with months and months ago. The pretty girl he had gone on a single date with and then never mentioned to you again.
“She flew home last week.” Tae looks uncomfortable. Your stomach twists. “And hyung, I told you it’s not like that.”
One date and he had never mentioned her again, so you had reasonably assumed that had been the end of it. But clearly, from the way Namjoon’s brows furrow in confusion, from the way Taehyung so carefully does not look at you, this is not the case. Clearly, he just never mentioned her to you.
There is an awkward silence in your corner of the room, because it’s blatantly obvious that you’ve been left in the dark on this and now, by accident, you’re suddenly not. 
Sensing the weird energy, Namjoon reaches for a cookie shaped like a candy cane and stuffs it in his mouth, quiet. 
You can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring through your skin, but you ignore him, refusing to look in his direction. You smile instead, though it feels off around the edges. You hope it doesn’t look that way too. “Huh. Congrats. I didn’t realize you were still seeing her—you never mentioned it.”
Taehyung rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not really serious.”
“Three months is serious enough,” you reply airily. Three months since Hoseok set them up. Four since— You look away, finishing the last dregs of your wine. “Sorry she couldn’t make it.”
Tae’s lips part, but whatever he has to say never comes to fruition. Seokjin claps his hands and yells for Jungkook to turn the music down so you can get the festivities started.
Clearing your throat, you use the distraction to stand up and make your way back into the kitchen, where the mulled wine is still being warmed by a crockpot. You have a flight to catch in the morning, but you figure one more glass can’t hurt.
When you come back, you find that Jungkook has taken your spot, and you also find that you’re perfectly fine with that. You sit in the chair next to Jimin and Nia instead, keeping your gaze solidly on Seokjin as he starts reminding everyone of the rules for your ugly sweater contest—something your little group takes rather seriously. Point categories include ugliness, creativity, hilarity, and raunchiness, with bonus points to be given for any good puns.
One by one, you each stand so your choice of attire can be properly judged. You miss, you drink declares Hoseok’s sweater, the mini tennis balls stuck to the giant velcro target in the center a clear invitation for someone to give the game a go. Namjoon’s sweater has a visibly judgmental santa between the words I Saw That, You Nasty. Jungkook’s has Santa enthusiastically riding a shark like a horse. Jimin’s is modeled after a Christmas tree, actual green tinsel elegantly latticed throughout and supplemented with a number of small, strategically-placed Christmas ornaments. Nia’s is clearly homemade, and clearly an eyesore, tinsel and felt letters stapled to the fabric. Feel the Joy, it says, a pair of gloves strategically-pinned over her breasts.
All excellent, excellent contenders. Your friends all start to argue, everyone making their case for who should be crowned this year’s winner. And, normally, you would be right in the thick of it. But instead, tonight you just sip your wine, subdued.
“I like this one,” Alexa pipes up, pointing at Jimin. “It’s cute.”
“It’s not supposed to be cute. It’s supposed to be ugly!” Seokjin insists, an edge of annoyance in his tone. And you don’t blame him—Alexa didn’t even bother to wear her own sweater because it was ugly. Why is she allowed to vote anyway? Why is she even here?
“Tinsel is ugly,” Jimin whines.
Yoongi shakes his head with a scoff. “Yours isn’t. It’s delightful.”
“Why is no one taking into consideration that my sweater has a shark on it,” Jungkook cuts in. 
Distracted, you pitch in your opinion when prompted and laugh when it seems you should. In the end, after much bickering and multiple rounds of voting, Nia is declared the winner. She lifts her eggnog in victory and Jimin grins wide, as proud of her accomplishment as if it were his own. (Namjoon had argued that her sweater was more horny than ugly, but Seokjin had to begrudgingly admit that it was both.) 
Hoseok, never a sore loser, starts hooting in support, which only sets off Jungkook, and then, like dominoes, everyone else. You cheer too, laughing. Despite everything, so happy to be here, in this room, with people who entered your life by chance and stayed by choice. You’re filled with such affection that you can’t help but grin when Jungkook promptly plays The Chipmunk Song, just for you.
“I’ll be right back,” you tell no one in particular, still laughing, still warm inside. The wine has you a bit buzzed, but mostly you just feel like your bladder is about to tap out on you, so you make your way to the restroom before it does. 
Through the kitchen, down the hall, on the left. You’ve been to Seokjin’s place often enough that your feet take the right path without much thought, your mind blessedly not settling on anything in particular as you do your business and wash your hands. Reentering the hallway has you blinking away the lingering imprint of florescent lights as your eyes adjust to the shadows. You jump a little when one of them moves unexpectedly.
“Sorry.” It’s Taehyung. You can see him a bit better now, can see the tall shape of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the muddled pattern of his sweater when he moves a little closer to you. Can make out the line of his jaw, the set of his gaze.
“No problem,” you say, stepping to the side a bit so you both have room to pass each other. You move to leave, but right as your arms brush, he speaks again. 
“It’s really not like that,” he murmurs.
You pause. Don’t turn, just stare at the carpet and focus on keeping your feelings in. On not reacting. Because he would tell you, right? He promised he would tell you.
He promised—but he has been keeping this from you.
“…Okay,” you say carefully, still not looking up. He said it isn’t serious. If it isn’t serious, it’s truly none of your business. It doesn’t matter. You swallow. You don’t look up.
There is a long pause, the charged silence cut by the cheerful music coming from the other room. Taehyung still hasn’t moved. Presumably, he’s in this hallway with you because he needed to pee, but he doesn’t continue towards the bathroom, his feet solidly planted in the carpet. In your peripheral vision, you can see him turn towards you, see his mouth open and close a few times. You don’t need to see anymore.
You leave him there, one quick step in front of the other, and head back to the others.
Yoongi looks up at you when you reenter, but you simply shoot him a quick smile and return to your seat next to Jimin and Nia. She’s still perched on his lap, but at some point since you left, Jimin has decided to slip his hands into the gloves attached to her chest. You shake your head, mind still too preoccupied with what just happened in the hallway to properly call him out on it.
The music changes, a sultry man crooning about how he wants to be your Santa Claus, and Namjoon’s head whips around. “Is that Keith Sweat?” he asks incredulously.
“Damn right, it is,” Jungkook grins, visibly pleased with himself.
Joon and Yoongi pull matching baffled faces at each other, Yoongi muttering about how he hadn’t realized Keith Sweat had even released a Christmas album. 
Hoseok has only had a little eggnog, but his face is red anyway as he leans against the back of your chair. “Hey, is it time for gifts yet?”
The mentioning of tonight’s main event has Seokjin perking up. “It can be. We just have to wait for—oh never mind, there he is. Taehyung, it’s time for gifts!”
Tae smiles in response, reclaiming his spot on the couch next to Jungkook. His gaze drifts in your direction, but you look away before you can lock eyes.
Jimin, who is closest to the gift table, promptly displaces his girlfriend and gets up to start handing out assigned gifts. They’re all of varying sizes—while Taehyung’s is a mere envelope, Yoongi’s is large enough to fit a small appliance. Vaguely, you wonder if someone was being funny with the packaging (boxes in boxes), or if he was actually gifted a deep fryer.
One by one, you each unwrap your gifts, excitedly revealing who was whose secret santa. Hoseok gets you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that he remembered the exact brand of specialty chocolates you’ve been dying to try. Jin and Yoongi get each other, and to the delight of everyone in the room, it turns out they gifted each other matching tackle boxes.
“I only bought it because I noticed you looking at it,” Yoongi sighs, pouting at how everyone’s laughing.
Seokjin lets out a huff. “Yah! I was only looking at it because I saw you looking at it!”
But for all their grumbling, from what you can tell, they’re both happy with their gifts, and will likely get a lot of use out of them together.
“What’s that?” you hear Jungkook ask curiously, and when you turn in his direction, he’s leaning over Tae, trying to make sense of the piece of paper he’d pulled out of a generic Christmas card. You swallow.
Taehyung’s eyebrows are furrowed, his lips twitching into a confused smile as he holds the paper up for the room to see. It’s a printout of an advertisement from a nearby art gallery. 
“Tickets to Kim Jungwoo’s newest exhibition,” you clarify, clearing your throat when your voice comes out more stunted than you would like. “Just let me know when you want to go and I can get them for you.”
“Oh, come onnnn,” Jungkook complains with a pout. “We had a thirty dollar limit.”
“Maybe next time you shouldn’t buy your gift from the convenience store,” Jimin says, pointedly looking down at the box full of ramen he was gifted.
“Do you or do you not like spicy chicken.”
“…I do.”
“That’s what I thought. Merry Christmas.”
“Don’t worry—my cousin works at that gallery,” you explain, “so I was able to get a discount. I know you like that artist, so when I saw their new exhibition was coming near us, I just figured maybe you would like it…” 
You meet Taehyung’s eyes, and they’re so dark and expressive that you have the intense urge to look away immediately. But then he smiles, wide and bright, and now you can’t stop looking. “Holy shit, I didn’t even realize he was coming here—how did you even know I love his work?”
You tamp down a pleased smile, shrug good-naturedly. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”
“Thank you,” he says, and you can hear how much he means it. Can see it in the excitement in his eyes, in the soft way he’s looking at you. It warms you from the inside out, satisfaction and affection trickling through your veins and spreading slowly, slowly. But steadily.
“Of course,” you reply, and you’re smiling too. You can’t help it.
And then the moment is broken by the first verse of what is apparently a My Neck, My Back x Jingle Bells mashup blasting through the speakers. You all pause, disbelieving of what you’re hearing, and then Nia immediately starts cackling, almost falling out of her chair at the ridiculousness of the situation. Yoongi rubs his temples like a migraine is coming on. 
“Really, Jungkook?” Seokjin groans loudly.
Jungkook starts cackling too. “Feliz Navidad, mis amigos!”
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The night ends earlier than you all would like—usually, there would be at least a few more hours of chilling and drinking and shenanigans. But alas, you have a flight to catch tomorrow and you’re not the only one, so you’re all begrudgingly shuffling into the night air a little before midnight. You all thank Seokjin for his hospitality and hug each other goodbye, promising to see each other again around New Year’s, before going your separate ways. 
As per usual when leaving Seokjin’s, Jimin and Taehyung walk with you—you all live in the same direction, so you have to take the same train. Nia is tipsy, her laugh loud and her arm around Jimin’s midsection. Jimin eats up the attention, an arm slung over her shoulders bringing her body flush against his.
They’re cute, you think for the umpteenth time that night, watching them from behind, their silhouettes periodically illuminated by the street lamps you pass.
The sidewalks are narrow, so Taehyung quietly walks next to you, hands in the pockets of his coat. The silence between you is strange—it’s awkward, but it’s not. It’s loaded with something, but it means nothing at all. In any case, you feel no inclination to break it, so you don’t, distractedly pulling your hat further down your head in an effort to ward off the windchill. 
The train is bizarrely full at this time at night, likely the result of more and more people being out and about, getting their shopping done and enjoying the holiday season. The four of you have to stand, though this doesn’t bother you much, as you don’t have that many stops to wait. Besides, passengers tend to get off with Jimin anyway—by the time it’s your stop, you often have most of the train car to yourself. 
It doesn’t take long to arrive at Jimin’s stop, and he and Nia both hug you goodbye and wish you a safe trip before leaving you and Tae alone. As you expected, the car has cleared up a bit—enough for a seat near you to become available, at least. Taehyung gestures, and you wordlessly take it, him grasping the bar above your head.
Another two stops, and the older man sitting next to you gets off. Taehyung easily slots himself into the vacated seat. He’s tall, with rather broad shoulders and long limbs, and you’ve always known this, but there’s a difference between knowing and feeling him as he folds into the compact space. His shoulder rests flush against yours; his knee bumps yours a bit every time the train takes a sharp turn on the rails.
A couple more stops and he’ll get off before you. A couple more stops, and you’ll be able to breathe and keep pretending.
You stare outside the window, simply to have somewhere to look. But despite the picturesque view of the city rushing by, you can’t help but focus on something else.
Taehyung, meeting your eyes in the reflection.
Carefully, you turn back in his direction, and yes, he’s looking right back, eyes dark in the fluorescent lighting.
“Do you want to come over?” he murmurs, deep voice somehow deeper in his effort to keep his voice down. The offer makes the slumbering beast within you stir. Your breath quickens. Your lips part.
“I have to catch a flight in the morning.” Not an acceptance, not a refusal. Simply the truth.
“I can take you to the airport.”
You already know what you want to say. Already know, even as you bite your tongue and try to think about this logically. You’re already all packed, suitcase ready and waiting next to your front door for you to simply grab it and leave. You hate packing and tend to leave it until the last second, but you also knew you were unlikely to want to do so when you came home late at night, or even the next morning, so you made sure to get it all done before you left for Seokjin’s earlier today. Taehyung will have to take you back to your place to pick it up, but it’s kind of hard to point this fact out when you suddenly notice his hand on your knee, the warmth slowly permeating your jeans and making it hard for you to think. 
“…Okay,” you breathe.
“Great,” he says, fingers light, light as they tease a little further up your leg, but ultimately return to dormancy before they can start anything in public. “What time’s your flight?”
You bite your lip. “Ten.”
He hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t move his hand. 
You don’t move it either.
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The first time it happened, it was completely by accident.
It had been a long, stressful week at work, and after noticing your unusual silence in the groupchat, a simple check-in text from Taehyung turned into you bitching about your grueling ordeal—which easily turned into him sounding the alarm and calling an emergency meetup. 
Some of your friends had other plans, and you were quick to dismiss Tae’s deceptively frantic tone before anyone got too worried, insisting they not cancel anything for you. So it was Tae, Hoseok, and Namjoon who met you at a bar that night, one specialty cocktail easily turning into three as your best friends made sure your glass was always full. And then, since you were all in such a good mood, you kept the night going to another bar, where more alcohol and a live band had you dancing away any problems you could have had.
Hoseok finally decided he was ready to go home at 3am, and the rest of the group conceded. Which was for the best, really, because you were all stupid drunk and every bar in the city was going to close in an hour or so anyway. So you said goodbye for the night, stumbling towards your respective homes.
You and Tae briefly discussed the possibility of sharing an Uber, but neither of you really wanted to pay surge prices when you lived relatively close by. So to the train you went, your arm comfortably linked through his—partially because you couldn’t walk in a straight line, and partially because you tended to get rather…touchy the more intoxicated you got. Taehyung didn’t seem to mind, happy to let you use him for balance. Alcohol made his laughs loud and his face flushed, both particularly noticeable in the relative quiet of the night.
But no matter how drunk, Taehyung never lost his sense of chivalry. He walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street so you wouldn’t stumble into it (despite tripping into a couple parked cars himself), and when the two of you made it onto the nearly empty train car, he then insisted that you just come home with him, because his place was closer and he didn’t want you riding the last few stops by yourself so late at night.
You didn’t fight him, because crashing at his place wasn’t foreign to you, and now that there was no loud music keeping your attention, you were practically falling asleep where you sat. So to his apartment the two of you went.
Things become spotty after that. You remember being forced back to consciousness by your screaming bladder, and when you opened your eyes, still pretty drunk and trying to get a sense of your surroundings, you realized that you were on Tae’s bed, splayed on top of the covers like you had faceplanted onto them and not moved an inch since. You remember the confusion quickly turning into fascination when you looked over and saw Taehyung was laying next to you, knocked out.
This was new. Any other time, you would have had a minor argument over who would sleep on the couch (because you felt bad kicking him out of his own bed in his own home and he flat out insisted you take said bed). But your plastered selves had apparently been too tired for that, because this time, you both had passed out side by side.
You stumbled to the bathroom to relieve yourself, groaning at how the lights disturbed your retinas. When you came back, properly sliding under the covers this time, you saw that Taehyung had turned in his sleep, now facing you. And there, fueled by lingering whiskey sours, emboldened by the darkness, you did what you never allowed yourself to do otherwise—stare.
All of your friends are annoyingly good-looking, but there has always been something about Taehyung that has drawn your eyes. He is nothing short of beautiful, and that night you freely drank it up, entranced by his profile—illuminated by the scant light filtering through his blinds. Dark curls mussed on a pillowcase. Long eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones. Lips, plush with a prominent cupid’s bow, puckered almost in invitation.
And naturally, drunk you accepted said invitation.
You leaned forward, easily shrinking the small gap between you, and curiously pressed your lips into the fullness of his, freezing in shock when they responded with equal pressure. 
Pulling back confirmed that yes, Taehyung was awake, eyes dark and hazy as they looked back at you. For a few solid moments, you stared at each other, silent and unmoving. But it was him who broke the stillness next, face shifting closer and closer until your noses bumped. Until you shared one breath. Until your lips were parting so his tongue could slip inside.
Everything else is foggy, your memory stunted by drowsiness and alcohol, but your body still remembers. Still remembers the ghost of his mouth. Still remembers your heart pounding excitedly in your ears, still remembers the warm weight of him rolling on top of you. What your mind does remember, however, is waking up the next morning, head feeling like it was going to split in two, mouth feeling like cotton, and quickly realizing Taehyung had apparently fallen asleep with his hand down your pants.
Things were different without the moon as your accomplice. The sun wasn’t nearly as forgiving, and after carefully retracting all body parts to their respective owners, you both awkwardly shuffled around each other in the kitchen, you pouring water into glasses and Tae silently handing you the bottle of ibuprofen after taking a couple for himself.
You drained your whole glass before either of you bothered to speak. It was Tae who broke first.
“Um…”
“What if we just agree this never happened?” you offered, voice so croaky you had to clear your throat to continue. “I don’t even remember anyway.”
Taehyung paused, glass hovering near his mouth. “You don’t remember?”
You blinked, wondering if you should fess up to your partial lie. “Do you?”
The glass got set down, his eyes closing as he rubbed his temples with a hand. “Not really.”
Good. Great. This was a thing that had happened on accident and you both could move past it. “See? We both just had too much to drink. It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t let it. No one even has to know!”
“…Doesn’t have to mean anything,” he agreed with a final nod.
And that had been that.
Until the second time.
The second time happened a few weeks later, also by accident. But then again, if you thought about it, the second time was much more intentional than the first. That time, you were all at Jimin’s, because it was his turn to host your group’s monthly movie night. And Jimin never hosted movie night without homemade guacamole and bottomless margaritas. So while you weren’t blitzed like the last time, you were still pleasantly drunk. Enough to not immediately look away when you caught Taehyung staring at you when everyone else was too focused on the tv screen. Enough to slowly simmer under his persistent gaze throughout the night, to cross and recross your legs at the blatant desire in his expression. 
It’s about a fifteen walk from Jimin’s place to Tae’s, but that night, Taehyung casually got on the train with you instead. When the doors opened on his stop, he made no move to get off.
“This is you,” you said, fully aware that he was aware.
“It is,” he hummed agreeably. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Should I get off?”
You bit your lip. You shook your head.
Silently, you both watched his stop come and go, and then when it was time for yours, you exited the train.
Alcohol had lowered your inhibitions, yes, but that second time? It couldn’t be used as an excuse the second time. You had been haunted by the ghost of his lips ever since you decided to abandon them weeks ago, and now, now, you were both fully aware of every choice you made. Fully aware when you slowly peeled off your clothes, shy yet eager. Fully aware when he cupped you over your underwear. When he slid your panties down your legs so he could feel you properly, so his long fingers could fuck stars behind your eyelids. Fully aware of the velvety weight of him, the slick, sticky glide as he rutted into your hand.
Of sound mind when making these decisions, but rapidly losing it the longer he whispered in your ear, the longer he sucked color into your skin. “Taehyung,” you groaned into his collarbone. “Condom.”
And so it was different. And it was good. So fucking good that you could hardly believe this wasn’t some sort of sex dream your unconscious mind had cooked up. Taehyung was big and you felt him deep in your guts and halfway up your throat as he fucked you. He made you moan, made you whine, made you beg, and that only seemed to egg him on as he pounded you into the mattress with enough force to make your teeth rattle and your eyes roll back into your head.
And when it was over, it was clear that there was no going back. No excuses to be made. You had both wanted it and had acted on what you wanted, and that was that.
The next morning found you both in the kitchen again, a charged silence in the air as you went about making beverages for the conversation that absolutely had to be had. Coffee for you. Apple cinnamon tea for Taehyung.
“So,” you hedged, sliding him a mug.
His smile was small and shy. “So.”
“We should probably talk about this.”
“Do you want to forget this too?”
“I…can’t,” you admitted, face heating in embarrassment. You didn’t know why you were embarrassed. The ache between your legs proved it was a little too late for that now.
Taehyung’s gaze turned to his mug, bobbing his teabag in the hot water again and again as he thought. “I couldn’t forget last time.”
That pulled a laugh from you. “I noticed,” you said, affection dripping from every word, and you wanted to suck the slip back in, to snatch it back before it reached his ears. But Taehyung just smiled bigger into his mug.
You sat across from him. “This is going to keep happening, isn’t it?”
He was quiet for a few moments, contemplating your question. Or maybe his answer. He looked back up, solidly holding your gaze. “If you want it to.”
You weren’t prepared for that response. If you wanted it to? What kind of question was if you wanted it to? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Did you like it?” he prompted when your silence stretched a bit too long.
“I mean…” You officially dreaded running into your next door neighbors in the halls and you had no doubt a few noise complaints were coming your way, so that should have been obvious. “Yeah.”
“Me too,” he said easily, and there it was. The bright, boxy smile you had a hard time saying no to. “I like making you feel good. So why not?”
Your heart skipped at that flippant admission. There were a lot of reasons why not, but he made it sound so simple. So easy. You both liked doing it, so why not?
Still, it seemed too good to be true, and you bit your lip warily. “No strings attached? Nonexclusive?”
His head tilted a little at your proposal, and you rushed to explain it. “This is just for fun, right? So let’s keep it fun and uncomplicated. I don’t want to hold you up or anything, so how about we can have other partners, so long as we always use protection.”
“…That sounds fair to me,” he replied after a moment.
You held up a finger. “But if we find someone we want to start seeing seriously, we should stop. Because that would make things messy and be unfair to everyone involved.”
He nodded in agreement. “And whether there’s someone else or not, if you ever want to stop for any reason at all, just tell me.”
There was a fat chance that would happen, but you appreciated his careful consideration nonetheless. “And do you mind if we just keep this between us?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows pinched for a second before you saw his face smooth out. “Sure. Any reason why?”
“I just think other people could complicate things,” you admitted. “And you know how nosy our friends are. They won’t let us just be, you know? They’ll make it into something it’s not.”
“Just between us, then.” He offered his hand, and despite you being the main one who thought things through, you found yourself shy to take it. You shook on it, and that was that.
And so, a standing arrangement was made, with rules in place to help keep it just as simple as it sounded. No strings attached— nonexclusive, and either of you can stop it at any time. It was easy—whenever either of you was feeling particularly frisky, you would go to him (or him to you) and he would thoroughly pipe you down until that itch was scratched.
Simple.
But, of course, nothing is ever truly simple. Because there was one giant reason why you didn’t want anyone to know about your tryst. The glaring problem you’ve been ignoring since the start is that no matter how much Tae helps you scratch, you are never going to stop itching. 
Because you may or may not be harboring a fat crush on your friend. 
And Yoongi knows.
That night you got wasted on scotch and drank him under the table? Apparently, scotch makes you talkative, and Yoongi has always been a good listener. He casually brought it up when the two of you had grabbed coffee the next morning and you wanted to walk into traffic, you were so embarrassed by your own loose lips. But Yoongi is a great friend in that he promised he would never repeat your secrets. He is also a great friend in that he would never let you go along with this friends with benefits situation knowing what he knows, and knowing that it can’t possibly end well for you. 
You know that too, of course. You’re fully aware of how bad an idea this is. How his eventual rejection will shatter you, how it will ruin the dynamics of your entire friend group. And still, you went forward with it.  Because before you could stop it, your small crush on one of your best friends bloomed into something much more than that. And so these little nights where you ached for dick? You didn’t just want any dick. You wanted Taehyung’s. Only Taehyung’s. Only Taehyung. 
You know that the moment Yoongi finds out, he’ll try to talk some sense into you—because he’s a good friend, and, unlike you, he wants what’s best for you. 
And hypothetical Yoongi is right. This is a stupid idea, absolutely moronic to put yourself in this kind of of situation. But you are always stupid when it comes to Taehyung. Greedy. You want all of him, all his belly laughs and dark looks and enthusiastic karaoke performances and soft touches and introspective mornings. You want that—want any and all scraps he’s willing to give you, and at this point in time, you find enough strength in this blatant weakness that you keep giving yourself to him.
Or, at least, you had.
Before tonight.
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Tonight, Taehyung pushes you against his apartment door, his urge to touch you outweighing his urge to hustle you both inside. His hands travel the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the meat of you in a way that can only be interpreted as mine. And you let him.
It’s not like that, he had told you, and as much as it hurts, it also ignites a fire within you. Because he promised to tell you if anyone else serious came along. Any serious prospects for either of you? This would all would end. You would stop. 
He promised, but he hasn’t claimed her. And, because of that, you can still have him—can bask in him as long as he keeps asking. As long he allows you.
Greedy, greedy. Stupid, stupid.
“Hobi-hyung was right,” he murmurs against your mouth. He’s much taller than you, so he has to bend down a good amount to meet you, though this has never seemed to bother him. “Should have checked the right nipple. I was hoping you would.”
It takes you a moment to figure out what he’s talking about, too distracted by the way his knee purposely slips between your legs. His sweater. The evasive Waldo.
“I’m much more interested in your pants,” you breathe, fingers tugging on the waistband to prove your point.
“Hmmm?” He smirks, and you tingle all the way to your toes. “Why? What do you think I’m hiding in there?”
You cup him, revel in the hiss that escapes his lips at the small pressure. “Taehyung. Open the door.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly rooting in the pockets of said pants for his keys and shifting you out of the way so he can properly access the lock. But after that, he barely gives you room to breathe, lips reuniting with yours. Hands sliding your coat to the ground and circling your waist, pulling you flush against him. Making sure you can feel the hard evidence of his want for you. Eager. Without separating from you, he kicks the door shut behind him, slips his shoes off, and starts walking you backwards.
You would tease him about his enthusiasm, but you’re no better. You thrive in it. Every step closer to his bed, every teasing brush of his thumbs beneath the hem of your sweater fills you with barely-suppressed glee. The little whimper he lets out when you work off his pants? Relief. 
It’s you who sinks to your knees, who scrapes your teeth over the hairs trailing his belly button, down, down. It’s you who purposefully presses your tongue into his weeping slit. You whose insides glow, bright as the sun, at the way his groans are barely able to be choked out. Because it’s your mouth he’s fucking into, not Jisoo’s. Not anyone else’s. It’s you who he belongs to, even if only for these fleeting moments.
Taehyung pulls you off of him before you can really get a rhythm going, before you decide to start fondling his balls in a way you know from experience will end him. Because, from the way he’s fisting your hair, tugging from the scalp with the exact amount of force that you love, he’s not ready to be done with you.
He undresses you with practiced hands, taking care to suck blooming color into all stretches of skin he uncovers. Open-mouthed kisses at the junction of your neck and collarbone. A light nip of your right breast, tongue immediately following and laving over the irritated area. When he finally decides to slip a hand between your thighs to get you ready for him, he can’t help but shudder when he realizes you already are. Two fingers easily sink into your hot cunt, a third making a gasp escape you.
“Look at you,” he mutters as he strokes you, and his tone borders enough on reverent that your whole body prickles in ecstasy. “Make me so fucking crazy.” A thumb swirls around your clit with intent and he recaptures your lips, inhaling your gasps as he beckons, beckons, and your thighs shake.
It’s too much—it’s not enough, and you’re going dizzy with want for him. Your hands scrabble up his back, pulling him completely on top of you, his warm weight more than welcome. Your chests are flush, and still, it is not enough. 
Taehyung somehow understands you—has always managed to understand you. Understands the root of your growing frustration. With one last lingering kiss, he pulls away just enough to reach over and open the drawer of the nightstand next to you. 
You feel protest building beneath your skin but you suppress it. Because previous encounters have taught you that you’re getting what you want. And sure enough, he roots out a condom, wasting no time in ripping open the foil and rolling the rubber down his length.
No matter how often he’s had you, the first press of his cock has always been intense—he is long and thick and yours, yours. Taehyung covers you with his body and fills in all your empty spaces until you are finally whole. Until you’re both slick with sweat and his hair sticks to his forehead, a notably primal noise rumbling in his chest. Until you’re so out of your mind that your teeth lock into his shoulder and you quiver uncontrollably. 
It’s only during these moments that you allow yourself the luxury of pretending. Only during these moments that you allow your mind to linger in the fantasy that this is more than it is. 
After, Taehyung always pulls you against him, and you always silently barter with the sun for a little more time. Wordlessly beg the moon to stay, please stay, just a little bit longer. 
You always fall asleep in his arms, his steady heartbeat lulling you into unconsciousness, and that’s that.  
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There’s nothing in particular that wakes you the next morning. It could be the sound of movement in the next room, but it could also be the growing sunlight filtering through the blinds, or your brain nudging you because your subconscious knows you have somewhere to be. In any case, you blink slowly and unseeingly at the closet door, languidly stretching your legs one by one beneath the sheets.
Until it suddenly clicks in the recesses of your mind that the reason you’re squinting is because the sun is well and fully out. And you have somewhere you should be.
You leap out of bed, frazzled and adrenaline pumping as you ruffle through your discarded jeans for your phone. You forgot to set your alarm and it’s 11:15. Fuck.
“Taehyung!” you yell, slapping on one of his t-shirts you find haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s just big enough to cover all your important bits, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you storm into the hallway in search of your friend.
You find him in the kitchen. He turns at the sound of your voice, hair adorably mussed by his pillow and your hands. “Hey,” he greets you, deep voice somehow always even deeper in the morning. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, and you swallow hard at the sight, forcing yourself to focus.
“I missed my flight!” you screech. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Tae bites his lip. “So funny story,” he says in a way that lets you know that the oncoming story will be anything but. “You know that huge snowstorm that’s set to hit at the end of the week?”
“…Yes?” you reply suspiciously. You’ve been keeping an eye on it, worried that it might interfere with your travel plans. But your local weatherman’s assurance that you would already be home and eating your grandma’s macaroni and cheese by the time the storm hit you calmed you. 
“Well,” he continues, a nervous chuckle putting you on edge. “It hit last night. Surprise!”
You blink, unamused by his obvious joke. “What.”
“Twenty-two inches,” he continues. “Your flight has definitely been canceled. I doubt we can even get out of this building right now, to be honest. Who knows when my landlord’s gonna start shoveling.”
What?
WHAT?! 
“Taehyung. Now is not the time to play with me,” you warn. Even as you’re unlocking your phone to factcheck him yourself.
“I’m not,” he promises, holding up his hands, pacifying. “Flights are canceled and you looked tired, so figured I’d just let you sleep.”
But his explanation falls on deaf ears when the internet confirms everything he’s saying. Jaw dropping in disbelief, you rush towards the window over the sink, separating the blinds with a finger. 
All you see is white.
“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself in wonder, astonished to not even be able to see any of the cars you know for a fact are parked along the street. Hell, you can’t even see the street. Everything is just buried under too much snow.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he says, a hand catching your elbow. He leads you to the table. “Come on, sit down. I’ll make you some coffee.”
“Thanks,” you say, dazedly doing what he asks as your mind goes a mile a minute. Worried your mother will still wait at the airport for a plane that will never arrive, you quickly give her a call. 
“I figured,” she says. “I saw that a storm hit your area on the news, and when I looked it up, your plane had been canceled.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Girl, don’t be! I haven’t even gotten dressed yet.” You can hear Christmas music playing in the background, and you can imagine her, still in her pajamas, in the kitchen getting started on the dishes she was assigned to bring to your grandmother’s tomorrow. Now that your plans of going home are a little more up in the air, it makes you a little homesick. “Are you safe? Still have power and enough food?”
“Yes.” Your eyes dart to Taehyung, who is busy pulling what he needs from the cabinets near the sink. You swallow. “I’m safe. I’m going to look today to see if I can get another flight, but Mom, I think I’m gonna miss Christmas.”
Your mother has always been rather perceptive of your emotions, and you know this time is no different when, after a pause, she replies, “Don’t be sad, baby. It’s beyond your control and everything happens for a reason. We’ll just celebrate whenever you make it home.”
“I’m going to try to get another flight,” you repeat, and she just chuckles. “I’ll let you know.”
After promising to pass along the bad news to the rest of your family, your mother hangs up with a love you. You sigh, definitely a little forlorn. 
Taehyung shoots you a sympathetic look over his shoulder. “This will make you feel better,” he promises as he continues his quest. He doesn’t drink coffee, but he still always has a box of your favorite kind on hand and that’s what he gets brewing for you. “We’re honestly lucky we still have power,” he muses, pulling creamer out of the fridge as he waits for the Keurig to finish brewing your cup. “It’s cold as shit outside.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, still internally frazzled. This new development has thrown you completely for a loop. 
“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks, musing over fridge inventory. “I have half a pizza, eggs, kimchi, and that spray cheese in a can.” 
You grimace. “Why in the hell do you have spray cheese?”
“Because it’s lowkey fire at 2am and it’s good food to have in case of an apocalypse,” he replies, tone much too reasonable for someone who kept cans of spray cheese in their fridge. He gestures towards the window. “And would you look at that? Snowpocalypse. Aren’t you glad we have this spray cheese?”
You pretend to think, though you can’t help the chuckles that escape you at his ridiculous reasoning. “No, not really.”
It’s him who laughs this time, pouring creamer into the awaiting coffee mug and returning it to the refrigerator door. He stirs in two sweetener packets then casually hands the mug to you.
“Thanks. Okay, but seriously! How the hell are meteorologists so wrong all the time?” You take a sip, humming in approval when you find the coffee to be exactly how you like it. “I mean, I was too busy to check the weather yesterday, but I’ve been paying attention for the past few days and they always said the storm would hit later. How could they not have seen this coming?”
“It’s pretty embarrassing,” he agrees, moving to pull out his own mug. You see him pause in realization when his hand wraps around his newest favorite, the light bulb visibly turning on in his head. “Wait…is this how you knew?”
The mug’s gorgeous—covered in vibrant colors painted in distinct, yet abstract patterns. The signature on the side declares it to be a print of one of Kim Jungwoo’s newest works.  
You shrug, a small smile on your face. “I always see you drinking out of it so I just figured…”
“God, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, and you have to work very hard to control the elation building in your chest. To remind yourself not to take his words too seriously.
“I’m glad you think so.” You clear your throat. “Because looks like you’re stuck with me for a little bit.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Tae huffs out a laugh, sitting in the chair across from yours. 
You lift a brow. “Isn’t this fucking up your holiday plans too?”
He shrugs. “I was gonna drive back, but who knows when the roads will be clear and safe. In the meantime, this’ll be fun! We’ve got internet, tv, food—though actually? Should we start rationing? Who knows how long we’ll be stranded.”
“You’re asking whether we should start rationing your cheese in a can,” you deadpan.
“You know what? Since you clearly think you’re too good for it, no cheese for you.”
“I think I’ll live.” You see him hide his smile behind his mug, and you tamp down yours, too. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I saw some pancake mix in your cabinet the other day. How about I make us some and you can spray your little cheese on it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he replies, so straight-faced that for a horrifying moment, you have to contemplate whether he’s kidding or not. But Tae has always had a rather sarcastic brand of humor, so you just pray that this is a prime example of that.
It’s only when you stand up and feel the resulting breeze on your ass that you remember that, aside from the extra-large t-shirt you’re wearing, you’re entirely naked. Heat rises to your face when you see Tae’s gaze immediately flick down to the long stretch of your legs. It’s strange that you’re bashful at his obvious attention—it’s not like he hasn’t seen and touched everything under that shirt before; not like he’s not the source of the hickeys littering your skin. 
Still, it feels oddly intimate to hold his attention in such a manner now. To have him look for no other reason than to admire you.
“Let me put clothes on first,” you mutter, intensely aware of the way his eyes follow you out.
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Ultimately, today becomes one of the most relaxing Christmas Eves that you’ve ever had. After you shower and throw your clothes from the night before back on, the two of you have breakfast and then settle onto the living room couch for a wondrously lazy day of watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and scrolling your social media. You attempt to find a new flight home for tomorrow, but flights are already full and you’re not surprised—everyone else is also fighting tooth and nail to rebook their flight. In any case, with the way snow is still being cleared all over the city, you’re not too sure it will be safe for planes to fly tomorrow, anyway. You’ll just have to stay on top of it and try again later. 
For a little while, your groupchat is active with conversation on everyone’s clear annoyance at travel plans being disrupted. But eventually, your friends all quiet and it’s just you and Taehyung again, eating leftover pizza and laughing at the wonderfully bad plots.
Before you realize it, it’s time for the two of you to call it a night, and it’s strange how easily you slot into place—like there’s a place for you to slot into. Strange how you wordlessly take the right side of the bed and him the left.
You almost offered to take the couch, but realized how ridiculous that was when Tae started to head to his bedroom and looked over his shoulder to make sure you were coming. You’ve shared the same bed as Taehyung before, obviously, but have never done so without also sharing your body. For that reason, it’s strange to watch him wash his face and brush his teeth, strange to see him don a rather pricey-looking pajama set, strange to slide in next to him under the sheets. 
It’s all so blatantly domestic that your heart hurts. That you want to lick a path across his collarbone to reestablish boundaries, to ground yourself in what this really is. 
That you want to close your eyes, want to bask in this simple feeling of belonging by his side for as long as you’re allowed.   
You turn off the lamp next to you. You both shuffle in the darkness, getting comfortable.
“Goodnight,” Taehyung whispers, voice a lot closer than you thought it would be.
You turn over to face him. Give yourself one second to pretend, one second to look at the shadowed shape of him in the dark. You close your eyes.
“Goodnight.”
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You wake up the next morning with arms wrapped around you, lips resting in the crook of your neck. This doesn’t surprise you—Taehyung has always been a cuddler. Still, he’s never cuddled up to you without sex being involved, so you are a bit caught off guard.
He must just like to sleep like this, you tell yourself. You won’t lie and say you don’t enjoy it too—it’s nice and warm in your little blanket cocoon, the weight of his body near you, on you strangely comforting. You’re awake but you don’t get up, content to stay in this quiet, safe limbo.
Eventually, Taehyung stirs. So do you, jolted out of your trance and slipping away from him before he has the chance to see any expression on your face that it’s far too early to mask.  
You use the restroom and brush your teeth with the toothbrush that has been designated as yours. (One morning after, you had complained of morning breath; the next time you slept over, it was already waiting for you in a drawer.) Your eyes idly roam your reflection as you press the bristles against your teeth in practiced small circles. Your hair, previously thrown into a quick bun, has been tousled in sleep, and you’re wearing Tae’s t-shirt again because you didn’t have anything else to sleep in. 
You spit into the sink and crack open the door. “Taehyung.” 
It takes long enough for you to rinse your mouth of foam for him to respond. “Hmm?”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“You can borrow some of mine,” he replies, and his voice is gruff and muffled, like his face is still pressed into a pillow. It probably still is.
But despite what you anticipate when you reenter his bedroom, Taehyung is already out of bed and rooting around in his dresser. He reflexively glances at you when you appear in the doorway, eyes squinting in protest against the sunlight streaming through the window. His face is still puffy with sleep and his hair is even more disheveled than yours, sticking up in all directions. You’re extremely endeared.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully when he hands you another t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Your hand rises before you think about it, fingers raking against his scalp as you smooth his rebellious hair back into place.
Taehyung freezes, suddenly looking a lot more awake. He stares at you, and it’s only after a few moments of this that you realize exactly what you’re doing. 
You snatch your hand back, awkwardly clearing your throat. “Um. Merry Christmas.”
A small smile creeps onto his face. “Merry Christmas, _____.”
Flustered, you gather the clothes close to your chest and return to the bathroom to change.
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You’re in the living room, sipping on your coffee and waiting for the news to come back from commercial, when your phone vibrates.
Taehyung 
Text message (now)
Your brows furrow in confusion. Taehyung is currently in the kitchen, having decided that it’s his turn to scrounge up some breakfast for the two of you since you cooked yesterday. Why is he texting you when you can hear him just fine from here?
Perplexed, you unlock the screen.
[10:15] Taehyung how do you like your eggs?
[10:15] Taehyung Fried or fertilized
You bite your lip, swallowing the laugh building in your chest. Because you certainly don’t want to encourage his ridiculousness.
“Stop trying to sext me,” you say loudly from your spot on the sofa. “I don’t need this right now.”
“Oh come on, _____. It’s a serious question,” you hear him call back. ”Don’t be like that!”
“Taehyung, I’m trying to see how long we’re gonna be trapped here. Can you be serious?”
He pops his head through the doorway, a clear pout on his face. “I am serious.” 
You struggle not to break, pretending to be too engrossed in the updated weather report to notice the way he makes his way over to you. You definitely should be engrossed in the weather report—it’s the reason you’re watching the news in the first place—but you can’t help but have your focus stray elsewhere when Tae slowly drops one knee. The other.
Your heart rate speeds up, but you pretend to be unaffected. Pretend that you haven’t long-abandoned the local news, that you’re not hyper-aware of him and everything he’s doing. He’s blocking your view of the tv, so you pointedly lean to the side to see around him, lips pursed in an attempt to tamp down your amusement.
A few moments of nothing, of you both pretending you’re not hyper-aware of each other’s proximity. 
Then, he makes his move.
His hands start on your knees, large and warm and shooting rippling sparks across your body. Still, you focus on not reacting. The weatherman is finally on tv, gesturing to the green screen map, but though he’s talking, you hear none of it, much too interested in the circles Taehyung’s thumbs are rubbing into the fabric of your sweatpants. (His sweatpants, big enough that you had to roll them over twice at the waist in order make them fit.) You’re able to keep up your apathetic charade until his hands inch higher, start rubbing further inward. 
Your eyes snap to his. There’s an amused smirk touching his lips, but his eyes—you’ve seen that look in them before. It makes you reflexively swallow. “Really, Tae? I’m watching tv.”
“You don’t even have to do anything,” he wheedles, fingers hooking into your waistband. “Just pretend like I’m not even here.”
You give him a look, but don’t stop him when he starts to pull them down. Simply lift your hips a little to help him slip them off.
You didn’t have any clean underwear, so when the pants are tossed uncaringly to the ground, there is nothing to hide you from Taehyung’s feasting eyes. And feast he does, gently pushing your legs apart and immediately zeroing in on your naked sex, a distracted tongue swiping across his lips.
You hadn’t bothered to put a bra on this morning and now you regret it, your nipples proudly and visibly straining the material of your t-shirt and betraying your excitement. Though you suppose it doesn’t matter when he trails lazy, open-mouthed kisses up one of your legs, hands grabbing you by the ass and scooting you forward and closer to his mouth. His unhurried tongue playfully dragging through the crease where your thigh ends and your pussy begins.
“Taehyung,” you breathe, though you don’t really have anything to say. Tae seems to understand this, simply replying with a rather sweet kiss on your inner thigh before turning his head and going for the prize. You can’t help but let out a sigh at the contact, the familiar feeling of his mouth on you so warm and wet and good.
He takes his time, licking a wide stripe up your lips and idly circling your clit and making your indifferent facade immediately and abruptly drop. It is much too hard to keep it up when he’s eating you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, like you’re something he wants to savor. And in any case, your body quickly betrays you, twitching after every bold flick of his tongue. Not to mention that the longer he keeps going, the wider your legs part for him. The more your back starts to slide down the couch, pushing further into his face. 
Taehyung hums in approval, simply slinging your legs over his shoulder so he can get as close as possible. A moan escapes your lips before you can swallow it, a hand rooting itself in his dark curls. Wordlessly saying what you don’t. Don’t stop, oh, god, please don’t stop.
And at that point, something seems to snap in him. While before you were something to savor, now, Taehyung devours you, flat out going to town. Wet slurping quickly overtakes the sound of tv, only rivaled by your increasingly erratic breathing and the moans you can no longer keep at bay. 
Your hips reflexively try to rise, but he keeps a firm hand on your thigh to hold you in place while he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, looking you in the eye the entire time. You whine, rapidly coming undone, and he only responds by reaching up to roughly twist one of your nipples while he tongue-fucks you. That only makes you louder, only makes you sound more desperate. Only makes your eyes roll back in your head.
There’s no stopping it now—you’re past the point of no return, past all sense. You have tunnel-vision, mouth slack, every atom in your being screaming to be pushed off that final euphoric cliff, and that’s all you can think about. All you can focus on. You ride his face, hips grinding down hard and fingers tightening in his hair, holding him to you. 
But Taehyung clearly has no intention of going anywhere, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure every few seconds, little satisfied whimpers escaping him every time you tug a bit too hard. And when your thighs finally trap his head between them, the intense orgasm making your back bow, he moans right along with you, greedily lapping up the fruits of his efforts.
As is usually the case, you have to push him away from you. Taehyung has always been utterly at home between your thighs, has always been honored to receive every drop you’re willing gift him. He would be there all day if you let him, but you’re too winded and sensitive for that right now, so he reluctantly pulls back. 
Looking at him now, it almost looks like he was the one that was fucked out, not you. His hair is a mess again, eyes completely blown as they look at you. And, most telling, there’s a visible sheen on his face from his nose all the way down his chin that he pays no attention to, more focused on licking the remnants of you from his swollen lips.
You struggle to form words, the powerful orgasm he had coaxed from you rendering you drowsy and boneless. “W-wha…why—”
“’Tis the season!” he replies simply with a boxy grin. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
You stare at him, baffled, but Taehyung only pats you on the knee before standing up. 
“Okay, but seriously, how do you like your eggs? Because the only other thing I know how to make is cereal, but I don’t have any milk, so if that’s what you want, you’ll have to eat it dry.”
Your feel like that one confused lady meme, brain shuffling through any and all mathematical equations that could help you solve the question he asked you.  His cock is blatantly hard now and he’s not trying to hide it, but he also seems uninterested in doing anything about it. “…scrambled is fine.”
With an enthusiastic thumbs up, he leaves you there, puffy and slick, thighs still twitching.
You eat your eggs together on the couch, Taehyung shoveling his into his mouth like he didn’t just get done trying to suck your soul out through your pussy. The rest of your Christmas is spent bundled up under a shared blanket, sipping on hot cocoa and watching all the claymation Christmas movies that come on tv.
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For the past two days, the streets have been a mess and trains unavailable. But when you wake up this morning, peeling yourself away from the unfamiliar scratch of Tae’s emerging stubble, everything seems to be back to normal. You can hear cars honking outside, can hear the scrape of shovels against concrete as people try to remove the last remains of the storm.
A glance at the unread messages in your groupchat only confirms your suspicions. Your friends have all successfully secured methods of leaving the city and are in various stages of heading back home. But you? You’re quickly reminded of how annoying it is when supply doesn’t meet demand. With everyone and their mother fighting to rebook their abruptly cancelled plans, the earliest available ticket that is also in your budget won’t even have you flying out until right before New Year’s. And seeing as you have to work on the 2nd, there is absolutely no point in spending the money only to come right back.
Disappointed, you sit at the kitchen table and you give your mom a call to deliver the news. She completely understands, of course, not wanting you to spend more money either.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you don’t care if I come at all,” you tease, eyes flicking to the doorway at sudden movement. It’s Taehyung, wearing a pair of glasses and still in his pajamas. When he sees you’re on the phone, he gives you a silent wave, mouth stretching wide into a yawn as he dutifully searches for your mugs.
“Now, you know that’s not true,” your mother laughs. “You’re my baby and I miss you. I’m sorry you had to spend Christmas all alone.”
Your heart pings at that sentiment, but your gaze can’t help but drift towards Tae, who has his back to you. He’s making you coffee, as has now apparently become your routine. 
It’s bizarre that the word routine can even be used at all in relation to the two of you, at all—bizarre and mildly alarming. He makes you coffee and you bicker over what to watch on tv and you’re little spoon and you have an unspoken side of the bed. Just three days locked in an apartment together and things have become…comfortable.
You swallow, looking away. There is another word for this that you don’t dare utter, that you don’t dare to linger on. Because you don’t want to start seeing things where there are none.
You don’t want to convince yourself that this is something more than it is.
“Christmas alone wasn’t that bad,” you say. Tae’s hand, reaching for a spoon, pauses for just a second before his fingers wrap around it. You clear your throat. “Mostly just watched tv. But how about I try to come home sometime in the spring? Maybe for your birthday?”
Your mother is excited about this plan, just as you thought she would be. The two of you hang up just as Taehyung sets your mug in front of you.
“Thanks. Those are new,” you say, pointing to his glasses. He’s worn glasses before, of course, but they’ve always been more of a fashion statement. This pair is wire-rimmed and markedly dorky. It’s endearing and you love them.
He rubs the back his neck, embarrassed. “I ran out of contacts.”
“Don’t worry. I think they’re cute,” you grin, reaching over to give them a cheeky tap. “But lucky for you, it looks like we’re finally free to blow this joint—all snow has been cleared.”
“Really?” You’re not sure why he sounds so surprised. He had to have known that the snow wouldn’t last forever.
“Yup. So you won’t have to deal with me for much longer. I can get out of your hair.”
He takes a sip from his mug as he ponders that. “Where are you going to go?”
You puff out a laugh at the question. “Um, home? You know, my apartment?”
“Alone?”
“Well, I’m the only one who lives there, so I would imagine so.” Your brows furrow in confusion. “Tae, what’s up with you?”
“It’s just…I’ve been thinking.” His fingers absentmindedly tap on the table as he mulls over his words. “You’re gonna be alone during the holidays. I’m gonna be alone during the holidays. So why don’t we just be alone together?”
You blink, brain slow to grasp his words. “You mean we should keep meeting up?”
“We could.” He shifts in his seat. “Or, we could just cut out all the in-between and you can just keep staying here.”
Well, you definitely didn’t see that coming. Your face must betray your surprise, because Taehyung is quick to try again. “Or we could stay at your place! Just a suggestion! I just figured it would be easier.”
You’re stunned silent, and it takes a few moments to find your voice. “You’re not sick of me yet?” you ask, bewildered.
“I could never get sick of you, _____,” he says, kind of shy, and it makes your chest warm, warm.
Remember what this is, you remind yourself, inwardly shaking off any delusional thoughts before they can take root. “…This is because you’re horny and you want easy access, isn’t it.” 
But Taehyung scoffs, an irritated pinch to his brow. “I mean, I also just enjoy hanging out with you, but if you don’t want to, I get it.”
“No! No, I want to, Tae. I’m just surprised.” He meets your gaze then, expression softening a little. “I just have to go pick up some stuff from my apartment.”
“And I should stop at the grocery store so that we have other things to eat than apocalypse cheese,” he muses aloud.
The two of you end up going together. First stop is your apartment, where you take a shower and throw on the first clean clothes that have actually belonged to you in days. Taehyung waits for you, casually scrolling his phone as you go about packing a bag. 
This is weird. Nowhere near normal and Tae is acting like it is, like you pack bags all the time with the express purpose of staying with him, in his place, in his bed. You feel like some sort of invisible line is being toed, but maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just hypersensitive because you’re afraid you’ll get too comfortable with this new arrangement and open your big mouth and just flat out ruin everything. 
So with that in mind, you say nothing as you toss in twice as much underwear than you could possibly need (can never be too careful) and a couple pairs of pants. You slip on your much needed winter boots and then you’re off to get groceries.
The two of you chat as you peruse the aisles, Tae dutifully pushing the cart while you contemplate what items you’ll need for dinner tonight. You chat while you carry the bags the few blocks to Tae’s apartment. You chat while you start a new tv series together, while you prepare dinner together and while you eat it together. And on the surface, everything is nice and easy, like it always is when it comes to Tae. You’re alone and so is he, so you should be together. One plus one equals two.  
But Taehyung’s wide smile makes the forbidden thing in you build and build, grow and grow. 
You smile back, and you say nothing. 
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“You know what we should do today?” Taehyung asks. He’s just hopped out of the shower and his hair is wet, loose waves dripping dark spots into the material of his t-shirt.
You look up from your bowl of cereal, but you don’t stop chewing. You watch a bead of water trail down his neck and have to hold yourself back from leaning over to lick it up. “What?”
“We should go see that exhibit.”
It takes a second for your brain, always sluggish in the morning, to catch on to what he’s saying. “You mean your Christmas gift?”
“Yeah.” He’s excited, eyes practically disappearing with the force of his wide and boxy smile. Like a child on Christmas morning. “Let’s go!” 
“Tae, you don’t have to go with me, you know,” you point out. “It’s your gift. You can use those tickets on whoever you want.”
He snorts, like what you said was ridiculous. “And I want to use them on you. And since it’s my gift, you can’t say no.”
This time, it’s you who smiles. “Can’t argue with that.”
So after a change of clothes, it’s to the industrial building serving as an art gallery you go. A quick call to your cousin ensures that tickets are waiting for you at the front desk, and Taehyung’s smile doesn’t leave the whole way there.
There are a good amount of people already in the allotted space when you enter, only confirming to you that this is most definitely an exhibit you should be seeing while you can. While you can certainly appreciate it, you’re not really into art like Taehyung is. Kim Jungwoo’s work, however, catches your attention immediately. You realize after setting eyes on the first piece that Jungwoo’s art is truly something that should be experienced firsthand—it doesn’t take long to see that the print on the mug Taehyung uses every day doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Everything skews a bit abstract, but the coloring of each piece, the length of each and every brushstroke, somehow makes you feel. 
You aren’t expecting this reaction, so you take your time scanning each each piece, simply marinating in whatever emotions come. Tae does the same, so, naturally, your paths diverge and reconnect as you go along, a dance of push and pull.
It’s only when you cross him again at one of the last pieces that the two of you have your first real conversation.
“These are gorgeous,” you offer, touching his arm to get his attention. Your voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the introspective quiet of the room. 
“Mmm.” Taehyung looks down at you, then back to the painting. His brow pinches a little as he mulls over it, full of curling shades of gray. You think him so deep in thought that it almost startles you when he speaks again. “I really like this one. Were there any in particular that spoke to you?”
It only takes you a second to respond. “That one,” you say, pointing to one of the first paintings. Wordlessly, he makes his way back to it, and you follow, trying to put into words why you like it so much. “I don’t know, it just feels very layered? Like, the title is Contentment. But the colors chosen feel the complete opposite—there is a lot of red and black, and those are really bold, you know? Colors we usually associate with powerful things. Intense, uncontrollable. And so it makes me feel like he’s lying, either to us, his intended audience, or to himself. How can he be content when there’s clearly something brewing beneath the surface? Consuming him from the inside out?”
He nods slowly as you speak, considering your interpretation of the canvas. “You’re right,” he says finally. “It does feel like there’s a lot being unsaid.” A few moments pass, where you both simply look at painting, quiet. Then, he turns back to you, expression unreadable. “Thank you. For being here with me.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the unnamed intensity in his gaze. You aren’t sure what to say. “Of course,” you say reflexively. And that is enough.
After a few more minutes of browsing, the two of you decide to leave. The piece Tae had been entranced by is close to the exit, and you give it another casual glance as you walk by.
Longing, the placard says. You turn away.
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The sun is deceivingly bright outside—when looking out the window, it appears to be a beautiful winter day. But as soon as you exit the building, you’re assaulted by the rather frigid air, passersby huddling beneath their coats and walking briskly to keep warm.
Taehyung shuffles further into his winter coat as well, breath puffing out in visible bursts. He looks ridiculously handsome against the snowy city backdrop, a natural model for a men’s cologne ad. His long coat is fashionable and heavy, but from the way he’s stuffing his hands in his pockets, apparently not heavy enough.
“Fuck it’s cold,” he says, and you feel that sentiment in your bones. Literally.
“You’re the one who wanted to go outside,” you remind him, teeth chattering as the two of you hustle the few blocks to the restaurant you’ve chosen for lunch. Your hood is up, but you regret not bringing a hat too. “I was perfectly content to keep marathoning The Good Place.”
He laughs, an arm casually sliding over your shoulder and pulling you into his side so you can share body heat. And this is better. A little bit.
“Don’t be like that,” Taehyung chastises. “It’s Christmas.”
“Taehyung, it is not Christmas.”
“Christmas is a feeling, _____.”
“It’s also a date on the calendar. That has now passed.”
Taehyung tuts, opening the restaurant door for you. The warmth from inside spills out, and you both sigh in relief, rubbing your hands together as the hostess leads you to your table by the window. Luckily, said window appears to be insulated well, because you feel no breeze when you start to peel off your layers. “If it’s not Christmas,” Taehyung continues cheekily, head tilting towards the window. “How do you explain that?”
Amused, you follow his line of sight across the street, where a man in a lot is standing next to a big sign that says Christmas Trees.
“Oh my god, are they seriously still selling Christmas trees?” you snort incredulously, attention moving back to your menu. “Who the hell is still buying them? And honestly, with how rough those trees look, that guy should be paying you to take one.”
“We should get one.”
You laugh, trying to decide what kind of soup you want to come with your sandwich. But Tae’s laugh doesn’t follow, and, wary of his silence, you glance back up. There is a suspicious glint in his eyes, a quirk of his lips that you don’t trust. “…Wait a minute,” you say. “Are you serious?”
“Maybe.”
“Taehyung, why do you want to purchase a raggedy-ass Christmas tree?”
“They’re not that raggedy, and because Christmas was stolen from us this year.”
“They’re raggedy. You and I both know they’re raggedy.”
“_____,” he says tone more serious than you’re anticipating for such a silly conversation. “You were really looking forward to the holidays. And I know it’s obviously not the same, but there’s no reason we can’t celebrate now.”
That throws you for a loop. Yes, you’ve been pretty content over these past few days, but you have also been a little bummed that the snowstorm snatched your holiday plans away from you. You hadn’t realized Tae has been watching you that closely, and it makes your chest warm to know he has.
“…Okay, fine,” you say, hiding your growing smile behind your menu. “We can go get your tree.”
Taehyung hoots in victory and you shush him, though you don’t really mean it. 
After you eat lunch and pay, you dutifully bundle back up and follow him to the Christmas tree lot across the street, where the guy selling them is thrilled to see potential customers. He tells you that all trees are 75% off, which doesn’t surprise you, seeing as the holiday has already passed and the demand for his product has gone way down. Still, looking at his inventory, you personally think even that amount is too much.
You can’t help but voice your concerns. “Taehyung, Charlie Brown’s tree looked better than any of these.” The vendor shoots you a dirty look, but you don’t care. These trees are busted. Clearly, the winter storm had not been kind to them.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tae says cheerfully, walking slowly so he can inspect each one. “We can fill it in with a lot of clearance ornaments.”
“Wow, you’re really going all out, huh?” you tease.  
He scoffs, turning his head to throw you a pointed look. “Obviously. It’s Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas.”
“We have already discussed this! It is Chris—”
You’re not quite sure what happens. One second he is playfully arguing with you, the next he disappears from view, swept entirely off his feet. You startle at the flurry of movement, bewildered when you realize that he’s now on the ground, limbs askew. “Oh my god, Tae! Are you okay?”
Taehyung winces, speckled with wayward snow. “Ow! I think I broke it,” he groans as you scramble to help him up.
“Broke what?” you ask as he stands, giving him a panicked scan for injury. 
He answers by rubbing his behind, no doubt bruised. “Kiss it better?”
You roll your eyes, unamused, but happy he’s not actually hurt. “I’m not kissing your ass,” you snort, reaching over to brush the snow off it anyway. “And to be honest, you can kiss mine for even asking me to.”
He nods. “Later,” he says, and it sounds suspiciously like a promise. The way he’s grinning does not bode well for you.
For the sake of time, you both agree that Tae will choose the tree and you will choose the ornaments, so you leave him to quickly pop into a nearby store to grab a bunch of ornaments and string lights from the sale bin. When you return, you find that the tree Taehyung has chosen is as tall as he is, but spindly, and, frankly, pretty sad. 
“He tacked on even more of a discount,” Tae informs you cheerfully. “I think he’s worried I’ll sue him.”
“You should,” you mutter under your breath. “For having the audacity to sell you that tree.” You frown, mentally trying to figure out the logistics. “Taehyung, should we go get your car?”
“Nah. I can just carry it.”
Your eyebrows raise. “We can’t get on the train with this. You’re really gonna carry it for six blocks?”
He lifts it, testing its weight. “It’s not that far,” he decides. “And my pride is at stake.”
“What pride?” you reply incredulously. “You literally just busted your ass five minutes ago!”
“That’s exactly why it’s at stake,” he insists, and the branches of the tree are so sparse, you can see him pouting through them. “And you know the only reason I fell is that they didn’t salt the ground and it’s slippery.”
You have bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Whatever you say, mountain man. Go ahead and carry your tree.”
“I will,” he snarks back. 
And so he does. For six blocks, you trail behind him as he lugs around a forty-pound evergreen that is very visibly on its last leg. You would argue that Tae is on his last leg too, with the way he huffs and puffs and repeatedly tries to rearrange it in his arms so the needles aren’t sticking him in the face.
“Need help?” you offer, amused.
His response is quick and irritated. “No.”
You roll your eyes. Men. If he wants to struggle to simply to prove a point, that’s on him. You were just gonna carry your ornament bag and make sure he didn’t get hit by any cars.
Finally, finally, the two of you make it to Tae’s apartment building. Into the small elevator you go, Tae resting some of the weight of the tree against a wall. Surprisingly, you almost make it all the way home without inconveniencing anyone else, but the elevator doors end up opening halfway up. (You get a weird look from the person on the other side, who wisely chooses to just catch the next one.) And by the time Taehyung is dumping the tree on his living room floor, he’s thoroughly winded.
“See?” he gasps out. “Easy.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you this time. “Oh Tae~,” you tease, batting your eyelashes. “You’re so big and strong.”
He’s leaning over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Damn straight.”
The two of you get to work decorating your sad tree, and it’s nice. Really nice, especially when he pours you glasses of wine to sip while you work, Nat King Cole crooning in the background. Slowly but surely, the tree starts to come together, and while it may not be the most stunning to most people, it is to you.
It is to you.
It’s when you’re completely done, the two of you sipping on your third-ish glasses of wine while admiring your hard work, that Taehyung pulls out his next bout of holiday cheer.
You frown at the random leaves he’s holding over your head, confused. “…Is that cilantro?” 
“Does this look like cilantro to you?” he asks, and he sounds kind of hesitant for some reason. Shy.
“Obviously it does, or I wouldn’t have asked.” You smile, willing to go along with his antics, just like you always are. “Are we having tacos for dinner? I don’t think you have any tortillas.”
“No, you dummy,” he replies, huffing out a laugh. “This is clearly mistletoe and we are clearly standing under it.”
Oh. Oh. You swallow, flustered by this new development. “We’re actually sitting right now, so who’s truly the dummy here?”
“Are you really going to argue with me? Standing, sitting, it’s all covered under mistletoe law.”
“Mistletoe law,” you deadpan.
“_____. It’s Christmas. You can’t ignore a Christmas tradition on Christmas.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Kim. It’s not Christmas.”
He gestures to the Christmas tree the two of you have just finished putting up. “We’ve already agreed that today is Christmas, so it is.  Do you really wanna anger the mistletoe gods?”
You laugh, endeared by his persistence. “No,” you agree softly. “Can’t have that.”
Even though he finally has your cooperation, Taehyung hesitates before he leans in, dark eyes reflecting the Christmas lights like he has stars in them, has the whole universe. 
And to you, he does.
He’s kissed you before, of course. Many, many times. But never without sex being the ultimate destination, and the press of his lips against yours now, with no other motive than to bask in you, rapidly throws you into a tailspin. It’s soft and strangely a bit timid and you can taste the wine on his breath, but you don’t care in the slightest because right now, the man with stars in his eyes is focused on you. You, you, you. 
There’s a feeling crawling up your throat, one you aren’t sure what to do with. It simmers and simmers, even after Tae pulls away from you, face flushed. Panicked, you lean back in, desperately licking his mouth open. He’s noticeably surprised, but follows your lead easily, like he always does. Kissing you back with just as much fervor. Grunting when you swing a leg over his lap, when your hand finds its way in his pants.
And you’re grateful. Grateful, because one more second of him looking at you like that and you’re going to cry. Going to flat out explode, and who knows if the resulting fragments of you will be salvageable. But it’s okay. Because when you’re doing this, when you’re busy riding his cock until he fucks you blind and it’s hard to breathe, it’s easy to forget.
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But there’s only so long pressure can build. Only so long it can be trapped, can be pushed down and ignored. It doesn’t take long for you to learn this the hard way.
The next day, you’re lounging around the apartment, today being declared lazy after all the excitement of the day before. You’re on the one of the last episodes of The Good Place and Tae made you pause it while he’s in the kitchen, fetching you both more snacks. 
And it is at this unassuming point in time that everything goes to shit.
An insistent buzzing has you reflexively searching your surroundings for the source, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s Tae’s phone.
“Taehyung,” you yell, not bothering to move a muscle from your cozy blanket cocoon. Tae may have willingly left it seconds before, but you saw zero reasons for you to do the same. “Your phone is ringing!”
You hear him opening and shutting a drawer. “Who is it?”
You sigh, mustering up the will and energy to lean over and scrabble around the coffee table. When your fingers wrap around the vibrating pest, you listlessly bring it closer to your face.
Jisoo
Incoming call
The blood in your veins instantly runs ice cold. You stare at the screen, the words flashing across it quickly losing meaning as the phone continues to ring. Woodenly, you stand, blanket falling from your form like the afterthought it is.
Taehyung looks over his shoulder when he hears you enter the kitchen, a smile lacing his lips in greeting. But that smile soon falls, eyebrows pinching in confusion at whatever he must see on your face. He reflexively takes the phone you hold out to him, but one glance at the screen has his eyes snapping back to yours. His lips part.
“I think I should go,” you say quietly. There’s a burning behind your eyes but you blink it back into submission and turn to go gather your things.
“Wait.” There’s an edge of urgency to the word, a sense of rising panic. But you pay it no mind, hurrying to the bedroom to get your bag.
You’ve been stupid to forget—blatantly foolish and willfully obtuse. You’re a placeholder, and no amount of playing house will ever change that. Absolutely no different than what Alexa is to Hoseok, simply someone there to entertain him and warm his bed. Though, you suppose, you are different than Alexa. At the very least, Hoseok claims her, for however long he decides to do so. At least she has that.
“Wait,” Taehyung says again, and you’re not listening, too busy throwing one of your errant shirts back into the bag. He grabs you by the arm and you stop, frozen. “Wait.”
“What are we doing, Taehyung?” you whisper. 
“What do you mean?” He’s trying to catch your eye, trying to make you look at him. “Baby, I need you talk to me. What do you mean?”
“This.” You gesture wildly at nothing, at everything. Let out a shuddery breath. “This. What are we doing?”
“What we’ve always done,” he insists. His voice is getting louder, more distressed. “What’s the problem?”
Your head whips up, finally meeting his eye. “Stop pretending you’re dumb.” You’re tired, oh so tired. “Because we both know you’re not.”
That must be the wrong thing to say—the panic in his face steels out, his eyes daggers. “Why are you even upset?” he says cooly. “I don’t see how it matters.”
Flames lick up your throat. Flames that have been there for months. Flames that you’ve ignored, even as they slowly smothered you with smoke. “Maybe,” you say lowly. Carefully. The word rolling bitterly on your tongue. “I don’t want to be around when you’re fucking other people.”
And there it is. The truth that has been hovering between you all this time, practically a third party in your fucked up excuse of a relationship.
For a second, your truth renders Taehyung mute. His jaw drops slightly, head tilting in unspoken question. Gone is his carefully-neutral expression—in its place, blatant indignation reigns. “It’s never bothered you before.”
If only he knew. If only he knew how hard you’ve worked to turn a blind eye, to keep up your charade. You don’t want to hear any more. “This was a mistake,” you say quietly, and his face crumples. “This was all a mistake, and I think I should go before either of us says something that we’ll regret.”
Your attempt at diffusing the situation only seems to make him more mad. He’s shaking his head. No no no. “Don’t do that,” he growls. “Don’t play games with me, _____.”
“Don’t do what?” you snap. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know damn well I’m in love with you!” He’s shouting now, but his voice is starting to crack. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Stop it.” Someone’s breathing is audible, and through the blood pumping in your ears, you can’t discern whether it’s him or you. Probably both. “Stop playing dumb. There’s no way you don’t know.”
“What?” A broken record. You sound like a broken record, but you have no idea how to stop. No idea how else you can possibly respond.
“The only reason I even started seeing her is because you didn’t want me!” he yells. 
Your brain whirrs, way too much information at once. “When did I ever say that?”
“You didn’t have to say it!” he spits, and now you’re crying. You don’t realize it, too caught up in the moment, but you definitely are, tears silently trekking down your face as you try to comprehend how in the hell you both got here. “You don’t have to say it, because you make it perfectly clear that this is all you want from me. And at first, I was more than happy to give it to you. But the more I have you, the more I want you. I want all of you, even if you’re only interested in certain pieces of me.” His breath is coming out too fast. He’s crying too. “I love you, and you insist that I hide it and pretend that I don’t!”
You’re stunned, struck completely dumb. Absolutely floored, flabbergasted.
“But if you want to leave, then fine.” He’s much quieter now, subdued. He sniffs, angrily wipes a hand across his face. “It’s probably for the best.”
But now, leaving is the furthest thing from your mind. Your brain is finally caching up, finally processing everything that he’s just said. 
“Say it again,” you finally reply, voice small. “I need to hear you say it again.”
“What?” he huffs. “That I want you?”
“No. How do you feel about me, Taehyung?” You’re moving closer to him, steps slow, slow, approaching not unlike you would a spooked animal. “I need to hear you say it again.”
His brows furrow. “I love you,” he repeats, the words full of irritation.
But that’s all you need to hear. The final shackle shattering, the last thing holding you back no more. Your hands find purchase in his shoulders, and though he eyes you warily, he doesn’t stop you when you rise on your toes and press your lips against his cheek.
“Again,” you murmur, hands drifting, fingers trailing into his hair. “Tell me again.”
His eyelashes flutter, distracted by the kiss you place on the underside of his jaw. “I love you.”
Unhurried, you adorn his skin with proof of your own devotion, kissing him every time he says it and even when he doesn’t. It’s only when he finally pulls back a little, a blatant question in his gaze, that you set free the words you’ve refused to utter.
“I love you too, you dummy.” 
That’s the cue he’s been waiting forever and ever for, and unlike you, he only needs to hear it once. Taehyung gently takes your overnight bag from your hands and tosses it uncaringly to the side. Despite his tender actions, the way he’s looking at you tells a completely different story.
He looks at you like you’re a delectable meal and he’s starving. Like he’s one sudden move from devouring you whole. 
And it sets everything in you alight.
His hands find your hips, then your ass, working the flesh as he kisses you, as he stumbles you towards his bed. And yours are just as frantic, utterly impatient in their quest to yank down his zipper and grip him through his underwear.
He lets you. Bucks into your hand until he’s nice and whiny and desperate. “Please,” he whimpers against your neck, whole body shuddering when you press a thumb into his slit. “Please let me inside you. Please let me feel you.”
“Shhh.” You shush him, catching his bottom lip in your teeth. You will never deny him, and he has to feel it. He has to know. “Always.”
But you can read between the lines, can understand exactly what he’s asking for. 
Know what he wants, what you both want.
Taehyung topples you both onto the bed, engulfs you with his body so that even if you tried to look anywhere else, he’s the only thing you can see. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. As if you’ll disappear the next time he blinks, as if he can’t get enough. He grinds his cock down hard against you, swallowing your gasps and working you both up to such a degree that you almost cum, just like that. Less than a minute, but you’ve been teetering on the edge for months, a bow taut and primed to snap.
The first push of him bare has you keening, has you scratching red marks down his back. And he’s no better, entire body vibrating and just flat out babbling when he finally feels the warm grip of you without a barrier. “So wet, feel so fucking good. So fucking good for me, baby, always so good.”
“Holy shit,” you gasp, desperately rocking your hips against his. Mouth slack as experience has him expertly hitting that spot inside you again and again that makes you see stars. “Oh my god—“
“So good, and mine. Mine,” he groans, and you’re not sure who he’s even talking to. He probably isn’t either, the velvet heat of you pulling words from his tongue, but after a particularly delicious thrust has you letting out a whine, you see the fog leave his eyes, just a little. Focus now entirely on you. “Whose pussy is this?” he asks, tone deceptively mild. But the way he’s circling his hips is understandably distracting, and when he realizes you’re already too fucked out to answer properly, he grabs you by the chin and leans his forehead against yours. Demands you answer him. “Who does this pussy belong to?” 
“You,” you pant out. “You. Yours. Always yours.” And as familiar as this all is, as many times as you’ve done these exact things over the months, it all feels achingly different this time. Somehow much more intense, somehow much more worshipful. 
Taehyung groans, his efforts doubling as his oncoming end has him starting to properly rail you deep into the mattress. Between his thumb pressing into your clit and his mouth laving attention across your neck, it doesn’t take long for you to be firmly pushed off the edge with a drawn-out moan, convulsing around him and easily dragging him with you. 
And, with two particularly rough thrusts that make the headboard rattle against the wall, he paints your insides a hot white.
You lay beneath him for a while, still contentedly stuffed full of him. Still gleefully receiving the kisses he hasn’t stopped peppering you with.
“There’s been no one else, you know,” he murmurs against your fevered skin. “Just you. Only you.”
Emotion blooms within you, seeping from your ribcage and trickling everywhere else. “And only you,” you say softly, his resulting smile so blinding and affectionate that you’re filled to the brim with love. Just completely overflowing with it, fighting the sudden burning behind your eyes. 
Tae doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Just presses his lips into the few tears that escape and holds you in the quiet.
Your fingers dance down the damp skin of his back, idle, as if memorizing every bump of his spine. But the peaceful moment is broken when a chance brush of against one of his asscheeks has him letting out a yelp, jolting at the unexpected sting. 
You snort out a laugh, unbidden. There’s definitely going to be a bruise later.
“It’s not funny,” he insists, smiling despite himself. His smile only widens as you keep laughing, unable to stop once you started. “I warned you I broke it—hey! I’m suffering over here, it’s not funny!”
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The voicemail sits, completely and utterly forgotten for a couple days.
To be honest, you both are a bit too busy with other…activities to pay it any mind.
“Hey Tae, It’s Jisoo. Um, I was hoping to catch you because I really didn’t want to do this over text or anything. But, um, while I’ve had a good time getting to know you, I think it might be best if we go our separate ways. If I’m being honest, I’m getting the sense that you’re not really interested in building anything between us anyway, and, frankly, I don’t want to waste any more of our time. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Happy New Year.”
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“Run me my money,” Jungkook says calmly, and you blink, completely unprepared for that response.
You’re at Seokjin’s again, your group of friends gathered together to bring in the new year. For some reason, you had found yourself a little nervous for this moment, a little nervous to tell your friends about you and Tae. Well, nervous isn’t quite right—restless might be a better word. Excited and restless. You hadn’t been completely sure how they would react when you finally dropped the bomb, but now, as you watch the rest of your friends reluctantly but dutifully pull out their wallets, you know this definitely hadn’t been on your list of possibilities.
Your jaw drops at the audacity. “I know you motherfuckers did not just bet on me.”
“No, no,” Hoseok assures you, and you feel better for just a moment until he continues, “We bet on both of you.”
What? What?!
Your head whips towards Taehyung, but he’s busy popping a mini quiche into his mouth and looking more amused than anything else. As if he had fully expected some light New Year’s gambling regarding your relationship status to occur.
“We’ve all just been waiting for the two of you to crack,” Namjoon admits, sourly slapping a few bills into Jungkook’s hand. “But we thought it would happen next year.”
“Not me!” Jungkook says gleefully. “Pay up, buttercup!”
Yoongi grumbles under his breath, shaking his head at you. He glances at the clock and back, expression simply oozing disappointment. “You couldn’t have waited fifteen minutes?” he sighs.
“Excuse me?” you balk, blood pressure steadily rising.
Wisely, Taehyung steps in front of you before your dumb friends who you love very much can get you riled up enough to start throwing hands. He’s laughing, and it’s warm. It’s right. And when he leans down to kiss you before the ball drops and during and forever after, you don’t care one bit about the obnoxious clapping and hooting that results.  
Hell, if you weren’t so preoccupied, you’d clap for your own damn self. 
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collab masterlist | my masterlist
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ladyartemesia · 7 months ago
Text
All I Want For Christmas is You
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Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader
Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...
Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut
Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers
Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi
Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •
Acknowledgements:
To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.
To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 
To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 
To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 
Please Picture This Taehyung:
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“No.”
“Yes.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”
“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”
Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 
“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”
The man in question shifted uncomfortably.
“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”
“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”
Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 
“You RECORDED IT?!”
Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”
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“He did WHAT?!”
Your mother winced. 
“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”
“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”
Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 
“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”
Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 
“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”
The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 
“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”
Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 
You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 
For now.
“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 
For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 
“Kim Taehyung.”
You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 
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“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”
The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 
“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”
“I could pay you more.”
“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”
“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”
If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.
“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”
“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”
Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.
“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”
Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 
“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 
“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”
The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 
However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 
Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 
Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 
In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  
Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 
The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 
“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 
He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 
“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”
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Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 
He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 
That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 
In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 
But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 
A woman. 
Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 
Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 
Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 
Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 
His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 
“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”
And just like that the brat was back. 
Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 
“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 
Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 
“Of course not,” he chuckled.
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The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 
Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 
You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 
“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”
“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 
“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”
“Harkins?”
“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”
Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 
“Okay... What about Kang?” 
“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 
“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”
“She was about to grab your ass.”
Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.
“She’s eighty-five!”
“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”
“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 
“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”
Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 
“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 
You shrugged. 
“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”
“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”
The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 
Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 
“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”
“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”
Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 
“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 
“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 
A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 
“I can think of several women who might disagree.”
He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 
“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”
“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 
“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”
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It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 
It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 
The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 
“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 
“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”
Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 
It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”
Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 
Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 
“It would be my pleasure.”
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“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 
An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 
“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 
Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 
“Sir?”
“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”
“You want me to what?!” 
“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 
Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 
1 New Message from: Jungkook
Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 
Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 
You picked up on the fourth ring. 
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”
“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”
“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”
“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”
The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 
“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”
He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 
“Are you alone?”
You snorted. 
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
Taehyung saw red. 
“I’m coming over.”
There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 
“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”
“With who?!”
“With myself, you idiot!”
“Prove it!”
“Fine! I will!”
The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
He almost choked on his tongue. 
You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  
At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…
A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 
You were exquisite. 
A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 
Desire. 
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Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 
I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 
Your head tilted in confusion. 
There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-
Oh NO.
You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 
… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 
Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 
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“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”
Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 
“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”
“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”
“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 
“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”
Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 
PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA
WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS
NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 
“The Park Angel?” 
“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 
“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”
As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 
“This is a flaming disaster.”
“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”
“Which one was that?!” 
“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”
Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 
“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”
“She has. Twice.”
“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”
“No.”
“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”
“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”
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After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 
By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).
You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 
Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 
Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 
Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 
“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 
Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-
He peeked again.
I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 
“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 
The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.
You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 
The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 
For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...
Taehyung was laughing. 
You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 
But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 
Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 
“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 
Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...
Almost. 
“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 
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Disaster struck at dinner. 
Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 
The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—
Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 
Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 
“I-I need—” 
It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 
“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 
“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 
“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”
“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 
At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 
You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 
“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”
Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 
“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”
The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 
“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”
You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.
“Why won’t this—”
His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 
“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 
You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 
There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 
“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”
He blinked. Twice. 
“I’m sorry—What did you just—”
“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”
He gulped. 
His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.
This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—
Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 
(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 
You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 
Oh.
His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 
Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 
“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 
Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 
You were so warm.
So soft...
“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 
His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 
“Hold on to me.”  
You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.
If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 
You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 
Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...
“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 
He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 
“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”
You drew in a final steadying breath. 
“Do it.”
He nodded. 
“One… Two… Three—”
Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 
Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 
The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 
And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 
It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—
“... Is… everything alright here?”
You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 
Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 
He gulped again. 
“I can explain.” 
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It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 
Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 
Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 
Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 
Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 
His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 
Just like you.
He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 
Lies.
… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 
Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 
The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
I made it home safely. 
Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 
To: Park Gremlin
I require proof… like last time. 
He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 
You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 
And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-
The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 
His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-
And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.
At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 
same mirror.
Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 
The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 
He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 
 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”
Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch
Green is my favorite color. 
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“WHERE IS HE—”
Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 
Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 
“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”
Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 
“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”
Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 
“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”
Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 
KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL
FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 
PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE
He winced a bit at that last one. 
“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”
Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”
“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 
Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 
“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”
Taehyung sighed heavily. 
“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”
“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 
“WHAT?!” 
“NO! Mother! Oh my—”
“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”
Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 
“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”
Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 
“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 
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“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 
He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 
Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 
You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 
Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 
Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 
Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 
“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 
Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.
“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 
“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”
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The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 
For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 
Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 
Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 
It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…
“I never thought I’d see you here.”
A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 
“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”
The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 
“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”
“I avoided them.”
I avoided you. 
Milo nodded. 
“I—I figured.” 
He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”
“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”
“Excuse me.” 
You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 
“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 
You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 
“No—please if you just give me a minute—”
“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. 
“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”
Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 
“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”
Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 
“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 
After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 
“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”
Taehyung laughed. 
“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 
You grinned. 
“I’d forgotten about that.”
“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 
(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 
“I wish I could forget about Milo.”
“... Are you still in love with him?” 
The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 
“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”
Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 
“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”
you. 
You cleared your throat. 
“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”
Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 
“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”
Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 
“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”
Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 
“I should kill him.”
You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 
“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”
“He has good instincts.”
“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”
“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”
It would be so easy to care for you. 
“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”
You nodded. 
“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”
The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 
“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”
“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”
“... Like you?” 
The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 
“What’s going on, guys?”
You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 
Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 
“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”
Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 
“Where is he?”
“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 
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The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 
The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 
Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 
His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 
“You look like a vampire.”
Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 
You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 
If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 
Still…
Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 
“I think I’m offended.”
“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 
“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”
You shrugged playfully. 
“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”
A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 
This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 
Lord have mercy. 
“Of course not,” he coughed. 
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“You’re what?!”
You rolled your eyes.
Tonight had been going rather well. 
The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...
Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 
“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”
“Does your brother know about this?!”
“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 
“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”
“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”
You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 
“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”
“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”
Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 
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“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”
“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 
“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”
Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 
“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 
Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 
After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.
Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 
Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 
Then it was your turn. 
“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”
“Ten thousand.”
Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 
Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 
“Eleven thousand.”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Fifteen.”
“Sixteen thousand dollars.”
“Seventeen thousand.”
“Eighteen.”
Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 
“Twenty thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Thirty thousand!”
At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 
Milo.
Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 
“Forty thousand.”
Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 
You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 
No. 
Milo was still bidding. 
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Not her. 
“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.
She’s mine. 
Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 
“One hundred thousand dollars!” 
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The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 
Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 
The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 
And hope. 
Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 
His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 
You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—
Yet you never dared hope for it. 
However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 
For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 
Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…
But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 
It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 
He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 
The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 
“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 
Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”
“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Do you want to see?” 
Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 
You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—
Then he nodded...
And you both were lost. 
Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 
Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 
“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 
He bit back a moan. 
“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
You nodded. 
“Kiss it better.”
Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 
This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 
He knew he shouldn’t—
but he could never deny you. 
“Of course.”
You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 
It was for you. 
He wanted you. 
Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 
Touch me… please. 
Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 
Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 
“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 
Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.
Sweet merciful heavens. 
Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 
You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 
The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 
“T-Tae—”
Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—
He was marking you. 
And you wanted it. 
Oh how you wanted it. 
Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.
“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 
You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 
“Speak up.”  
“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 
“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”
Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—
“Madame. We’ve arrived.”
The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 
Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 
Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 
Did we just...
You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 
1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈
I need to know you made it safely to your room. 
You grinned. 
Greedy boy. 
Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.
Taehyung growled in frustration. 
She would be a tease. 
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 
He shook his head. 
I have officially gone insane. 
The phone buzzed again. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Well… We can’t have that can we… 
Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 
Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 
The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 
He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel
The screen lit up again almost immediately. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...
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Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.
“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”
Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 
“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”
“I need to talk to him now.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”
Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 
“I know he’s up there.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”
“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 
Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 
“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”
“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”
The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 
A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 
“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”
“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”
Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”
He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 
“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”
“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”
Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 
“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”
“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”
Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 
“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”
“Oh… Well.”
Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 
“He has to come down eventually.”
“One would think.”
The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 
"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 
Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 
“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”
“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”
Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 
“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”
Jimin stopped struggling. 
“Oh?”
Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 
“He’s gone, sir.”
“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”
“However…”
“... However?”
“I had to give him your spa passes.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
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“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”
“It’s complimentary, sir.”
The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 
Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 
“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”
Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 
“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 
Jungkook bit his lip.
“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”
The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 
Both men winced. 
“I think that was your grandmother’s.”
Taehyung sighed. 
“I admit there have been… some developments.”
Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 
“... Such as?”
Taehyung gulped. 
“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”
“There may have been? Are you not sure?”
Taehyung colored guiltily. 
“Well—”
“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“That’s what I thought.”
Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 
“Things have… escalated a bit.”
“Escalated how?”
I licked her tit in the back of a limo.
“Physically.”
It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 
“That’s… shocking.”
“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 
A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.
“So what are you going to do, sir?”
Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 
“I honestly have no idea.”
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Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  
Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 
Your dress tonight was deadly. 
It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 
Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 
Oh help. 
Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 
So he didn’t say anything at all. 
Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—
And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 
“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”
The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 
Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”
“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”
Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 
She is definitely trying to kill me. 
“Should I be worried?”
Now it was your turn to grin. 
“I guess we’ll find out.”
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The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 
But it was well worth the price of admission.
Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 
It was like stepping into a fairytale. 
Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 
You were breathtaking.  
“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”
The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 
“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”
Your eyes widened. 
“N-nephew?”
Taehyung shrugged. 
“I don’t really talk about it much.” 
The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 
“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”
“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”
“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”
You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 
The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 
“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”
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Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 
Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 
All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...
Until she showed up. 
“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”
Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”
“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”
Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 
Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.
“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”
Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 
“Yes. Of course. This is—”
“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”
“His date,” you deadpanned. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”
“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”
Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 
“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”
Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 
Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 
“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”
Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 
“Some other time perhaps.” 
Aubrey pouted prettily. 
“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”
Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 
“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”
“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”
“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 
“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 
“Aubrey... Listen I—”
She cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”
He grinned. 
“Never.”
The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.
“What a shame.”
Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 
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“You know what I don’t understand?”
You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 
“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”
The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 
Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.
“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”
Oh he’s good. 
You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”
Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 
“Couldn’t be me.”
You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 
Alas. 
You tilted your head speculatively. 
Surely there was no need to brush away good company...
After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 
“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”
Yoongi held out his hand. 
“I’d be delighted.”
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Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  
Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you
—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 
It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 
Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 
Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 
“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”
Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 
“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”
“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”
You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine
“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 
Oh boy. 
Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 
You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 
This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 
You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 
Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 
You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 
Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 
“Are you alright?”
His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 
You glared. 
“Just fine, thank you.”
A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  
On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded sharply. 
Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 
Yet you made no move to stop him. 
You should have. 
You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—
But you didn’t. 
So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 
You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 
“T-Taehyung—” 
“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).
“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.
You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 
However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head
“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 
Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 
You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 
Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 
“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”
Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 
Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.
It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 
At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 
“Ms. Park, are you well?”
Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 
“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”
“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”
Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.
Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 
There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 
“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 
Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 
When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—
just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 
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Emotions were a funny thing. 
They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 
And occasionally eroded your common sense. 
Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 
His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 
His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 
His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 
It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 
Frustration—
I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!
Rage—  
Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 
Jealousy—
You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 
But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 
You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 
He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...
But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 
Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 
Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 
And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—
Emotion became action.
“Mind if I cut in?”
It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 
“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”
Your mouth dropped open. 
“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”
Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”
Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 
“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”
The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 
“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”
“I did!”
“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”
“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”
“But—”
“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”
“You didn’t come after me!”
“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”
“Really? Well what else did she grab?”
Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 
People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 
Well that’s great. 
Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.
“What are you doing?”
“Continuing this discussion in private.”
“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 
“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”
Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 
The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 
After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 
You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 
On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.
However—
The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 
Reflection suite indeed. 
The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.
“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”
“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”
“Then why did you take us here?”
“Because you were shouting—”
“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”
Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 
He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 
But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 
He had to kiss you then. 
You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 
The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 
Finally. 
Everything was him. 
Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 
“Taehyung—”
His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—
Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 
“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”
Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.
Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 
But not today. 
The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.
“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.
“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 
“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 
He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.
It was so so good. 
“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”
If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 
But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 
“Yes!” you sobbed.
The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.
Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 
“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”
His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 
“You’ve been saying that for years.” 
“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 
Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.
“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 
“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 
Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.
“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”
His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 
“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”
The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 
After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 
“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 
Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”
The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 
“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.
“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”
You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.
“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 
You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.
“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 
Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 
You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 
Almost. 
"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”
Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 
"Please—" you whispered.
"Please who?" 
Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 
"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 
He grinned. 
“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”
Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 
Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 
Underneath a giant mirror. 
The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-
And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 
It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 
Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 
Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 
“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”
The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 
The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—
You shattered. 
And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 
Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 
The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 
Then he was kissing you again. 
It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.
You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 
Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 
“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.
You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 
He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 
It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.
“Of course,” you muttered. 
The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.
“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”
“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 
“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 
After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 
“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 
You gasped against him and he smiled. 
“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”
You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 
“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 
His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 
“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”
Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 
The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 
Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 
After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 
“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”
His praise was addictive. 
You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 
It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 
Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—
Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 
Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.
“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 
The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 
“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”
You did. 
You wanted it so so bad. 
“Please.”
Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 
“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”
“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”
He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 
Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 
There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 
Then your world caught fire. 
Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 
Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—
Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 
The feel of him was indescribable. 
You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 
He was bloomin’ magnificent. 
Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 
“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”
“Yes—”
Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.
He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 
You were his. 
And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 
Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.
He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—
This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 
And now… he couldn’t look away. 
The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.
Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 
“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”
Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 
“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.
“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 
The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 
Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 
Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 
He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   
“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 
Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 
“Tae! Ah-ahh!”
The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—
“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.
And then you flew apart. 
Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 
“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”
“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 
“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”
“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 
“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 
Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 
“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 
The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.
“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 
His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 
"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”
The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 
He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 
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“KIM TAEHYUNG!”
The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  
His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—
The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 
“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”
Then he frowned. 
“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”
Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 
“Kendra.”
Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—
And insanely gorgeous. 
Taehyung groaned. 
Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 
To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.
KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 
One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 
“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”
“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”
“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”
“I’ll kill you.”
“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 
“Why should I wait?!”
“Because—”
“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”
“The situation is just not that simple.” 
“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”
“Admittedly not my finest hour.”
“So you tell me right now—”
“But you don’t understand it’s—”
“—Why the hell would I wait?!”
“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”
For a moment there was absolute silence. 
Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 
“Really?”
Jimin’s mouth fell open. 
Taehyung groaned again. 
“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.
“Are you really in love with me?”
“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 
“That’s not the same thing!”
“It is for me!”
A radiant smile lit up your face. 
“I’m in love with you too.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. 
“Angel I—”
Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.
“Oh! No no no—Come on!”
He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 
“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 
“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 
This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 
If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.
I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.
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lucas-is-mine · a year ago
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Taehyung’s style
2015: "sweet & innocent frat boy"
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2016: "simple but eccentric"
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2017: "gucci model"
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2018: "i am the art"
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2019: "vintage bohemian dude"
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2020: "classy young granpa"
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[jungkook]
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littlemisskookie · a year ago
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One of the Boys
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One of the Boys Ship: Taehyung | Reader Description: ChildhoodFriends!AU | BestFriends!AU | Neighbors!AU | Highschool!AU | All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him? Warnings: Intercourse, Manhandling, Oral, Blowjob, Fingering, Flavored Condoms, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk with some Crack, Taehyung’s into Hickies, Fluff, Angst, Lots of Feminism talk Word Count: 20,240 A/N: Based on the song One of the Boys by Katy Perry!
You had known Kim Taehyung your entire life.
The two of you were next-door neighbors, living side by side for the entirety of your childhood. Your best friend would only live a few feet away, and you'd be able to talk to each other through your bedroom windows, which faced one another. It was fate that your worlds would sit right next to each other, intertwined. No matter what, there'd always be a bit of Taehyung in you, and a bit of you in Taehyung.
You couldn't remember a childhood memory without him. Sleepovers when you were little, like when you wore matching pajamas and accidentally got a lego stuck up your nose. Or when your parents would tease the two of you about how you were going to get married one day, and you two would let out grimaces and groans of disgust.
"Boys are gross! They've got cooties!" you'd whine.
"No, you've got cooties!" Taehyung would retort.
"Nuh-uh!"
But that's how kids are. Everyone's icky and gross and disgusting, and that was certainly your mindset on boys. You didn't get the appeal of getting married by the swingset or kisses on the cheeks. You'd also get annoyed when all of the girls in your grade would chase Taehyung around at recess, wanting him to be their new boyfriend.
"Y/N! Y/N protect me!"
Taehyung was always a bit of a baby, and today was no exception, with him cowering behind you as the group of giggling girls followed. You took pride in the fact that you were taller than Taehyung, and straightened your spine as to help hide his smaller frame, acting as a guard.
"Can't you leave him alone for five seconds?" you groaned, huffing as you shook your head in disappointment, just like how your mom would when your father messed up. Your short hair bounced with the movement. "He doesn't like-like you!"
"How would you know? You're not his girlfriend!"
A series of "ooh"s followed and your face got heated. "Why would I want to be his girlfriend? Gross!"
"C'mon, you two are always hanging out with each other. I bet he like-likes you," one of the boys, Jimin, says, walking up to your group.
"No way, Taehyung's mine!" one of the girls declared, followed by bickering.
Taehyung's ears turned pink. "I don't like-like Y/N!"
"Want to be with us then?" one of the girls questioned.
"No! Girls are gross!" Taehyung said, sticking out his tongue.
"Y/N's a girl!" another pointed out.
"She's different," he responded.
"Because you like-like her!" Jimin followed.
"No!" Taehyung stomped his foot. "Y/N's not like you girls. She's basically a guy!"
"Yeah!" you followed. "I'm not like you girls."
"She's cool!"
"I am!"
"She can kick the ball really far in dodgeball!"
"I can!"
"She's one of the guys!" With that, he slung his arm around you, which you proudly accepted.
One of the girls rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that because she looks like a guy."
It was true. You were always a bit tomboyish, mainly following Taehyung's example when it came to pretty much everything. You cut your hair in something akin to a bowl cut with kitchen scissors, much to your mother's distress, and you'd constantly throw a hissy fit when she tried to put you in a dress. "Taehyung doesn't wear dresses," you'd whine. "So why should I?"
"You're right, she might as well be a guy. Isn't that right, boy?" one of the girls questioned.
"I'm still a girl! I'm just cooler than you," you huffed.
"Whatever, boy."
"Come here!"
That was the day you had to get pulled off of a girl for pushing her into the mud and tackling her. She wasn't seriously hurt, but that was the day that cemented your position.
One of the boys.
Sure, you identified as a girl and that didn't change, but you were always a bit more tomboyish. You'd wear loose clothes like Taehyung's and only hang around guys, finding girls to be "obnoxious", a fancy word you heard from your mother when she described a coworker. You'd always be picked first for teams during P.E. and would get involved in the usual guy antics. That didn't change for a long time.
The mindset stuck around even when you were twelve when your breasts were beginning to develop and you had your first period. You were actually becoming attracted to boys and maturing, though you weren't quite there yet. You still clung onto the "not like other girls" mindset, priding yourself in how down to earth and relatable you were to guys, in comparison to the girls who obsessed over their looks and what they ate on television. If that's what being a girl meant, then you were going to be one of the guys.
This was only encouraged through Tumblr and Instagram posts of girls with backward baseball caps who made every caption about chicken nuggets alongside #relateable. Through it all, you stuck by Taehyung's side, as well as a few of his friends, but before long you started realizing that, while boys were still gross, there was something about them you couldn't get out of your head. At least, that was the case for Taehyung.
Taehyung was a bit taller than you now, finally starting to catch up with you after you sprouted like a weed. His hair was shinier and he finally learned how to properly use cologne and deodorant. He was handsome too, at this age, with most of the girls in your grade falling head over the heels for him. You were determined to differentiate yourself from them, though.
"Hey! Ugly!"
You rolled your eyes, opening your window to glare at Taehyung with his shit-eating grin. "What is it, stupid?"
It was a Friday morning and the two of you were getting ready for school, about to make your walk to the bus stop. This sort of greeting was typical for you- being best friends and all. You learned a long time ago that Taehyung didn't really mean it when he called you names. Besides, you could retort all you'd like. You guys were only 12, after all.
"Are you going to Jimin's birthday party tonight?"
"If you're there, sure." It was rare for you to go out without Taehyung. You were in the same friend group, after all. "I got him those rare Pokemon cards he's been buggin' me about. You?"
"I didn't even think of those!" Taehyung slapped his hand against his forehead, leaning against the windowsill. You did, too. If you were to jump and aim correctly, you probably could've catapulted in his room. If you reached your hand out, you could reach him easily. You wondered if you leaned in far enough whether the two of you could kiss. "Anyways, I got him tickets to a game. We'll be going with my dad."
"I thought we were going to a game soon," you said, frowning.
"We will! But Jimin's the birthday boy. You and I can go anytime. Besides, we both know you don't actually pay attention to the game. You just sit there and eat junk food."
"Excuse me if I'm not obsessed with looking like a twig- like you with those stick arms."
"Sometimes I think that your only personality trait is that you like food!"
"I oughta sock you!"
Taehyung laughed at that. "By the way, I think you can move on from those trainer bras. You're starting to get something there."
You covered your chest despite the fact you were already wearing a shirt. "You pervert! You were looking?"
"Not my fault you don't put up blinds. Besides, you know I don't see you that way," Taehyung snickered. For some reason, your heart sunk a little at that.
"Well, whatever. Not that it's any of your business but my mom's taking me bra shopping soon. Apparently she's got the same mentality as you."
"Looking to impress one of the guys at the party, huh?" Taehyung wiggled his brows suggestively.
You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean by that?"
"Yoongi says we're going to be playing spin the bottle."
"Oh."
You still hadn't had your first kiss yet. Taehyung got his in the fifth grade when one of the girls in another class was dared to kiss him towards the end of the school year. His ego inflated with that, and you scribbled out her face in your yearbook.
"You still haven't had your first kiss yet, have you?" Taehyung questioned, serious for once.
"No," you admitted. "Am I weird for that?"
"No. Everyone goes at their own pace. I don't think anyone's gonna pressure you to do it if you don't want to. I'll tell them off if they do," Taehyung assured you. Your heart warmed up a bit at that.
"That's sweet of you, Tae," you smiled. You took a deep breath. "But I want to get it over with. I swear to god if we do end up doing spin the bottle, whoever it lands on I'll kiss."
He shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, dude. Just make sure it isn't Namjoon. I saw him use tongue with a girl in the hallway, once, and I don't think you're ready for that."
You grimaced. "I'll keep that in mind."
Taehyung leans back to shut his window and you call out. "And for your information, I don't have blinds because it'd be a hassle to put them up every time I want to talk to you!" He smirks at that, with a sure you do look. With that, you slam your window shut.
-
You fidget with your bangs an unusual amount, staring at the mirror every few seconds before glancing at the clock. Two minutes. Two minutes before you'd be going with Taehyung's mom as she drives the two of you over to a boy-girl party. Two minutes before you're going to a party where you'd have your first kiss. Two minutes.
What if it landed on Namjoon? What if he wanted to use tongue? You didn't want anyone to know you had never been kissed before. Would he be able to tell? If he used tongue he definitely would be able to. Did you want your first kiss to be tongue? You looked up some Youtube videos of girls kissing with tongue on Youtube, but you still felt clueless.
Or worse...
What if it was Taehyung?
You couldn't deny you wanted it to be him. But that was precisely why he couldn't know.
Would he find out your feelings? Even though he knows you've never been kissed, would he judge you for being a bad kisser?
"Honey! Mrs. Kim and Taehyung are waiting for you!"
You took in a deep breath, messing with your hair one more time before marching downstairs towards your fate.
-
The party wasn't what you expected.
Sure, you weren't expecting the club scene you always saw on TV, with flashing lights and red solo cups. However, it mainly seemed like a bunch of kids standing and talking to one another. Oh, and a few playing Monopoly in the corner.
"It seems kind of... God, what's the word I'm looking for?"
"Dismal?" Taehyung finishes for you.
"Good use of our vocab."
"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll get to all the fun stuff once the parents start trickling out. Helicopter parents are the worst," Taehyung said.
"Hey, guys! I'm so glad you could make it," a familiar voice said. The two of you turn around to see Jimin, with a bright smile on his face as usual.
"Hey, Jimin!" Taehyung grabs him in a bro-hug, with the mandatory two slaps on the back before pulling away. No-homo.
"Happy Birthday!" You wrap him in a bear hug. "Where do you want us to put the gifts?"
"Uh, that table over there should be fine," Jimin says, pointing to the table. "I'm betting you two are going to have a lot of fun tonight."
"We hope so," you grin.
"No, no, not like that. I've got a few people asking- well, more accurately hoping- to kiss you two during the spin the bottle."
You furrow your brows, exchanging a look with Taehyung. "What do you mean?"
Jimin ignored your confusion. "Alas! I told them the bottle will decide their fate, and not I. I even told a few of the girls that I had gotten it from some psychic who said it was enchanted for true love."
"Did you?" Taehyung questioned.
"Maybe." Jimin winked at that. "So you better hope whoever it lands on is cute."
The game comes along far sooner than you would've liked.
All of the boys and girls landed in a circle. You sat right next to Taehyung, of course. You looked around the circle, wondering who wanted to kiss who. You already spied two girls who would not pry their eyes off of Taehyung. Namjoon kept glancing over at you. However, for a boy who already used tongue, he seemed rather shy, staring back down at his lap once you caught him staring.
Everyone was going around the circle counterclockwise. There had been two people who have gone, each kissing someone. Two guys who gave each other a peck out of discomfort, and a boy and a girl. Now, it was your turn.
You stared down at the empty coke bottle, your heart thundering in your chest.
"I bet Y/N's hoping it lands on a girl," one of the girls who was staring at Taehyung says loudly to another. Your face burns up from embarrassment as the two of them giggle, everyone in the circle hearing it.
"I like boys, for your information," you defend yourself, though your voice sounds shaky. Damn your nerves. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay."
"Oh? Why are you in such denial about it, then, huh? You must be lying, seeing as you're shaking," the girl retorts.
"Besides," the other chimes in, "isn't it true you're trying out for softball this year?"
It was true. Taehyung had been talking to you about how he was wanting to join the baseball team, and, as a further effort to stay close to him, you decided you wanted to join the softball team. He had told you it was impossible for a girl to join the baseball team, so you opted for what you could. Who knows? Maybe others would be impressed by how athletic you are.
You were now beginning to regret that decision.
"Hey," Taehyung cuts in. "That's supremely rude. I mean, there's nothing wrong with being gay, but the fact you're putting it as some sort of insult makes you come across as homophobic. What are you, ignorant? Besides, weren't we taught that enforcing stereotypes was counterproductive? Just because Y/N is looking into softball doesn't mean she's gay. As far as I know, as her best friend, she's not. But if she was she deserves just as much respect as anyone else here."
"Wow, Taehyung, way to impress your little girlfriend," one of the other kids says, clapping his hands slowly. He eventually stops though upon noticing no one else joining.
"I have no tolerance for assholes," Taehyung huffed. He turns to you, his voice low so only you can hear. "Don't mind them. They're just jealous because no one wants to kiss them."
Your chest swelled with admiration for Taehyung, but you try to suppress it. You couldn't help but beam with pride, however. "Thank you for that, Tae. Your vocabulary seems to have expanded."
"Thank our English teacher," he chuckles. "Now what're you waiting for? Spin the bottle."
You choke down on any fear you have. If Taehyung had the balls to stand up for you, why couldn't you do one measly peck? You tap against the neck of the bottle, letting it spin in the center of the circle before stopping at... Taehyung.
"Should've seen it coming, from that big speech you made," Namjoon sighed, slight disappointment lacing his voice.
"Wait a minute, this could be a big development in their friendship, you know. They are best friends after all, and maybe this would finally get rid of all that tension. Like the movies!" Jimin beams. "There's gonna be one couple who walks out of this party."
"Tension? What tension?" Taehyung furrows his brows.
"As if you don't know," Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. "What're you waiting for? Kiss her! It's about time."
Taehyung's ears go red as he turns to you. "We don't have to if you don't want to. My dad taught me what consent is."
I want to.
"Eh, let's just get it over with."
Nailed it.
Taehyung's movements are slow, and you wonder for a moment why he doesn't just plant one on you. Tension does seem to build, and you're holding your breath, tense as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. What was he waiting for?
Oh right. It's your first kiss. He wants it to be special.
And special it was.
He musters up the courage and leans in, his lips pressing against yours. You close your eyes like you know you're supposed to, feeling his soft lips against your own. You can taste the EOS chapstick already, and before you can kiss him back the way you practiced on your hand, it was over. He pulled away and the two of you are left awkwardly staring at one another.
"Well... did sparks fly?" Jimin looks between the two of you, an excited fan, looking to see if his ship was sailing.
"You set yourself up for disappointment, Jimin. Not everything is like those novels your mom reads," Taehyung huffs.
"Yeah, like me and Tae would ever be like that," you laugh, the butterflies in your stomach going on a full-on rampage. "We're best friends."
"Heck yeah, we are," Taehyung chuckles, offering his hand for a fist bump. You oblige, and he takes his turn to spin the bottle.
You had felt something. You felt everything.
But Taehyung didn't. It was that day you faced the possibility that he never would.
-
"Is it true that Taehyung has a crush on Yeji?"
You're stunned by the question, looking up at the girl talking to you. You had never spoken to this girl a day in your life, despite the fact the two of you shared a class together. You should've expected this, though. Girls were constantly coming up to you to ask questions about Taehyung.
"I don't know."
The girl furrows her brows, agitated. "I would think you'd know. You're his best friend."
"Well, I don't."
"Doesn't it make you jealous? I mean, you've been with him for like, forever, and now he's looking at some other girl."
She's clearly trying to get a rise out of you. It was working.
"I really don't care. Tae and I are just friends, and that's more than you'll ever be able to say." You glare at her for a moment. "Now leave me alone."
The girl huffs but obliges, storming away to her gossiping group of friends, leaving you to ponder to yourself.
Yeji? No way. It couldn't be her. Yeji was one of the girls who was already wearing makeup in middle school. It made her look like a tramp in your opinion. Unless... That was why he liked her?
The next morning you snuck into your mom's makeup bag and went through the contents. You had watched dozens of makeup videos on Instagram and were determined to get this right.
Mom's foundation was a little darker than your own complexion, but surely no one would notice that. The same could be said for her concealer, which you used to cover up the blemishes you had, from a particularly large zit on your forehead to the scratch on your cheek from softball practice. You put on some bright eyeshadow and started on your eyeliner. Eye one... done! It doesn't even look that bad. You do the next one. Oh, that one's bigger. You didn't want to ruin your eyeshadow though. Maybe if you just make the first wing a bit thicker... no that's too much. You should go back to balancing the second... Perfect! Lots and lots of mascara. You put layers upon layers until they stand out individually. You top it off with bright pink lip gloss.
You exit your house in stride, waiting for Taehyung to walk you to the bus stop. You wondered what he'd think of your new look. Would he think you were pretty like Yeji?
"Hey, Ugl- woah." Taehyung walks up to you, and the first expression he makes is one of complete shock.
"Hey, Tae!"
"Why're you wearing all of that goop on your face?"
You feel yourself wilt. "What do you mean?"
"Y/N, you look like you're ready for the circus."
You felt anger rising in your chest. You had watched plenty of makeup tutorials. You knew what you were doing! Why did he like makeup on Yeji and not you? "I look fine!"
"No, you don't. I'm telling you right now you need to wipe all of that off, it's ridiculous," Taehyung said, rolling his eyes. "As your best friend, it's mandatory that I do this."
You feel tears well up in your eyes and you rush inside. You angrily scrub your face with makeup wipes and tears, your face red by the time you're done, though there's still slight dark circles under your eyes from the mascara. However, it was passable.
You storm out of your house once again, wiping away any leftover tears. Taehyung's still waiting for you as always.
He sighs at the sight of your upset form but begins walking with you. "Trust me, you'll thank me once we're older."
"Whatever," you huff.
"What made you want to wear makeup anyway? You hate that stuff."
"It's none of your business."
"You shouldn't be wearing it just to impress someone. You look fine without it. If they don't like you for who they are you shouldn't even bother."
You shrug with indifference, coming off as aloof.
"C'mon... talk to me."
"What do you like about Yeji?"
The question catches him off guard. "Yeji? I mean... she's got cool handwriting. I don't like-like her though."
"Oh. Some girl asked me if you did." You can't help but feel your mood lift already at the news.
"According to some people, I'm dating a new girl every week," Taehyung huffs in annoyance. "I just wish they'd stop coming to you about it and ask me instead."
You shrug. "I don't know. I mean, do people ask you about me?"
"Yeah, some of my guy friends do."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I find it annoying," Taehyung says.
"Maybe it shows how good of friends we are. We're always associated with each other. Attached at the hip." You beam at the thought.
"Like siblings."
That wasn't what you wanted to hear.
-
You're sixteen when everything truly starts to change between you and Taehyung.
After all this time, you're left pining. You're left a female clone of him, doing everything together and sharing the same interests. Both of you were planning on going to the same college, were in sports, and the same AP classes. Conjoined twins, that's what you two acted like.
And yet he still hasn't looked your way.
Lately, in fact, it felt like you never would. You felt the two of you getting emotionally distant. He was drawing back. He had more friends than you did, was more popular. He had a whole life outside of you and it seemed like you didn't.
In fact, you had signed up for a camp over the summer in hopes that you could possibly find something you enjoyed outside of him.
You didn't want him to pull away from you. But what if it was better you do it first?
You held onto hope after all these years, but one day, in particular, depletes it.
"You're going to the game, right?"
It was the softball team's last game of the season, the last of your Junior year. It would help determine whether or not you'd make it into varsity next year. AKA it was the biggest game of the season for you.
"How could I not? Anything for my girl," Taehyung grins, ruffling your hair with fondness. Your chest swells at the nickname.
You didn't know why you even asked. Taehyung always made it an effort to go to your games, just like how you made it an effort to go to his baseball games. It worked well, you being one of the best batters on your team and him being the best pitcher on his. That way the two of you could practice easily alone.
Still, you liked confirmation. You liked hearing Taehyung say he'd be at the games for you. Not anyone else, you.
"By the way, did you still need the answers to that AP Psych homework?" you question.
"Oh, no. I got it when I was studying with Ryujin."
Ryujin. His tutor. The bitch in the National Honor Society. You were one point from joining, believe it or not. Taehyung had been struggling in AP Psych and needed help, and though typically you would, you were admittedly struggling a bit too. In stepped Ryujin. You despised her for being so utterly perfect. Who had the right to be nice, smart, and pretty at the same time? The world was unfair. Besides, she didn't have an athletic bone in her body.
You despised her.
Taehyung offered to have you step in and also get tutored by her, but you refused. You really couldn't stand being in her presence, and besides, you were nauseated at the idea of being stuck with a girl giving your best friend goo-goo eyes. You've been the third wheel for situations like that dozens of times, and it was awful each and every time.
And so, it was a hot May afternoon, with your last game of the season. It was the seventh inning. Your team was three points behind your opponents. The bases were loaded. You had two out. You had already fucked up enough with two strikes and one ball. Your coach was biting on her nails, eyes intense.
Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up.
You felt your heart thundering in your chest. You were getting anxious. Never before had there been so much pressure on you.
"You've got this Y/N. Woo!"
You look to the stands. In the far back are your parents, alongside Taehyung's. It was rare for Tae's parents to come with Taehyung, but seeing how they were friends with your parents, they knew what a big day this was for you. In the front of the stands, Taehyung stands there with a big grin on his face, eating popcorn. Two girls are at his side. Ryujin, who isn't even looking at the game but rather at Taehyung, making your blood boil. And then Yuna, a girl from your class who you barely knew but acted nice towards, despite the fact she was the polar opposite of you. You were surprised to hear her cheering instead of Taehyung's. What was a girl like her, in tube tops and hoop earrings, doing at a softball game of all things?
"C'mon, Y/N!" Taehyung's cheer is somewhat incoherent through the kernels. "Knock 'em dead!"
You feel many emotions at once. Anxiety and fear, from the possibility of fucking this up. Anger from seeing Ryujin next to Taehyung, her body practically pressed next to his as she attempted to get closer despite the heat. Pride and joy from hearing Taehyung's (and even Yuna's) support. And finally, determination for the game.
You take in a deep breath, swinging the bat around in your hand before stepping on the plate.
Despite the fact, your eye was on the ball, your attention was entirely on the stands.
The ball hurtles towards you.
You swing.
The ball soars high above everyone's head. It flies, far, far away, before disappearing into the distance.
You're stunned.
"HOMERUN!" You think the shout is Yuna's.
Your feet fly beneath you, as do your teammates on the bases. First base, second base, third... You feel elated, your heart pounding in your chest. Your teammate's cheer. Your coach lets out a victory roar. The people on the stands cheer. It fuels you, blood pumping through your veins, pure ecstasy coursing through them. You hit the home base and turn around to grin at Taehyung.
But he isn't looking at you at all.
He was locking lips with Ryujin.
You stop in your tracks, stunned. Of all the times, he was making out with another girl. At your moment. Had he even watched your homerun? Suddenly the roars of everyone around you seem too loud. It feels overwhelming. Your senses are going into overload. You want to cry, you want to scream, you want to walk up there and rip them apart.
Before your teammates can even tackle you in a hug to celebrate your victory, you dash off, inside, to some restroom.
You lost him. And he wasn't even yours in the first place.
-
Your mom had gotten you a celebratory cake for dinner, despite the fact you had already eaten dinner with your teammates. It was more of a mini celebration for your family and Taehyung's to spend time together, eating cake and celebrating a bit before midnight.
You weren't really in the mood to celebrate, however. You weren't in the mood for anything. You just wanted to go to bed.
"And when you hit the ball-" Your dad gushed, simulating the movement of the ball overhead with his hand. "-it was fantastic!"
"You're so talented, Y/N. Better than some of the guys on Tae's team," Taehyung's dad compliments.
"Thank you, Mr. Kim," you say, trying your best to seem happy. Inside you felt depleted.
"By the way, Taehyung," your mother says, drawing the young man's attention. "I saw you and your little girlfriend in the stands."
"Oh, yeah... That's Ryujin." Taehyung's ears begin to go red.
"He's been talking about her nonstop for the past month or so," Taehyung's mother says. "Did you make it official, Tae? You know your father and I can't wait to meet her."
"Yeah, we did."
You feel rage and disappointment fill every part of your body.
"Hey, let's not distract from Y/N's achievements!" Taehyung's dad scolds, drawing the attention back to you. "You must be excited for varsity next year, huh? No doubt you've got a spot now."
"I... don't think I'll be continuing softball, actually."
The room is quiet.
"What do you mean?" Taehyung's beyond confused, furrowing his brows.
"I just know that if I do it next year I'll be expected to do it during college, and then as my career... and I don't think I want to do softball forever. You typically don't make that much during softball, at least compared to baseball. It's just not that fun anymore."
Everyone is stunned, unsure of how to respond. It feels awkward.
"Thank you for the cake, Mom." You barely ate any of your piece. Still, you push your plate forward. "I really appreciate it. I think I'm going to go to bed. You guys can continue to celebrate without me."
You head upstairs, and to no one's surprise, Taehyung follows you. He closes the door, giving you a look. "Ok, so what's going on. You love softball. And now you're gonna quit?"
You just shrug. "What's the point?"
What was the point? The whole reason you started it was to try to get closer to Tae. To be like him. To get him to notice you, pay attention to you, and now see where it led.
"You can't seriously be quitting."
"I am. I already informed the coach tonight I wasn't going to be joining next year. She was disappointed, but she understood."
"Y/N, what the fuck is going on with you?"
"Nothing. However, I didn't appreciate you kissing Ryujin during my 'big moment'."
Taehyung's face turns red. "So that's what this is about?"
"Did you even watch, Taehyung?"
"You can't seriously be pinning all of this on me!"
"Answer my question!"
He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. "So yeah, I got distracted. You can't blame me."
"Yes, I can! I'm your best friend. It was my moment, it was going to determine so much and you couldn't keep your attention on me for five more seconds because you were swiping saliva with your new girlfriend!" You're angry. Your voice is rising. You didn't want to think about whether or not the adults downstairs could hear you. You throw your pillow across the room in frustration.
"OK. I was wrong. I know that. I'm really sorry, Y/N. I've liked this girl for a long time, though. You don't understand, you've never-"
"Never what? Had a crush on someone? That's bullshit, Tae. Complete and utter bullshit!"
Your eyes begin to well up with tears. You wonder at that moment if Taehyung knew. Surely you were obvious, he could've caught on after all these years. But if he did, why would he hurt you so badly?
"No. No, you're right. It was wrong for me to insinuate that, Y/N. I'm sorry. Really, I am. I fucked up, I know I did. It was your day and I focused on someone else instead. I was inconsiderate. I'd be mad too. I'm really, really sorry."
Part of you wanted to say it was ok. But it wasn't. Not now, at least.
"Yeah, you fucked up," you say quietly, tears rolling down your cheeks. It's hard for you to get the words out properly, what with the lump in your throat. You hated letting Tae see you cry. It made you feel pitiful. You try to calm the anger inside of you as best you could. You and Taehyung had gotten into fights plenty of times before. This time felt different. This time felt serious.
"Don't make up your mind about softball yet. We can practice and play together during the summer. If once the school year comes around and you still don't want to play, I understand and respect your choice. But please, don't just make a rash decision based on my mistake."
"I'm not going to be here for the summer."
He looks confused. "What do you mean?"
"I signed up for that summer camp as a counselor about a week ago. I'm going to be leaving about a week after the school year's over."
"You can't be serious. And you didn't even tell me?"
"I told my parents. I would've assumed they'd tell yours."
"They probably assumed I already knew because you would've told me!" His chest starts to rise and his breathing is heavy with anger and frustration.
"It's just one summer, Tae."
"We were going to spend it together. Like always."
"Maybe it's time we do something different. I do something different."
"I'll go to camp with you."
"Signups closed last week, Tae. I was the last one. Besides, you'll be spending all summer with Ryujin." Your voice cracks at her name.
"I don't get why you hate her so much."
"I don't hate her."
"Yes, you do. You give her dirty looks and you're super judgemental. You're like that with everyone, but it seems particularly targetted towards her."
"I just don't like her, ok? I have the right to. It's my business."
"What, are you afraid she'll replace you or something? You're still my best friend, Y/N. No matter what girl I'm interested in you'll always be my best friend."
That didn't feel like the right thing to say, however, as you feel even more upset. "I just think we need to take a break."
"So what, you're breaking up with me?"
"It's not a breakup if we're not in a relationship." It hurts when you say the words, but it's true. You and Taehyung weren't in a relationship. You never were. He was free to like whoever he wanted. You couldn't control him and you didn't own him. He was his own person outside of you. You only wished you could say the same about yourself.
Taehyung gives a look of sadness and defeat. "It's just a break, right? Not forever?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Is there more to this than just me kissing during your homerun?" Taehyung questions, starting to freak out at your noncommital answer. "I mean, we were fine one moment and now we're not."
"We're fine, Tae."
"No, we're not. Not when you're crying and wanting us to take a break and all of... all of this."
"I think I just need to figure myself out first, Taehyung. You have so much of your life outside of me, and a girlfriend just adds to the list. I guess I've just started to feel like I wasn't anyone without you. My life circles around you and-"
"You want to remove me from your life?"
"You're jumping to conclusions. I just need to figure out who I am without you. When you're not there." When I'm not in love with you.
"You're amazing, Y/N. You're smart, athletic, strong- the list could go on."
"That's sweet of you Taehyung, really. But I just need time to clear my head."
"Of me?"
"...yeah," you sigh. "Look, you'll be fine. It's only a few months and I'll be back. You can text me. You'll have Ryujin. I just need time to myself to figure myself out, to figure out... a lot. This was like a ticking time bomb, it was bound to happen. I wouldn't have signed up for this last week if it was about today's events, would I?"
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
"I think it's what I need."
"Ok. Just promise you'll come back to me once you're done with this self-discovery thing?" Taehyung resembles a kicked puppy right now. Your heart begins to crack. "I just... I feel like I'm losing you."
You've felt that way about him for a long time now. Maybe it was about time to be on the other side. Get them before they get you, maybe.
But no, despite everything you still didn't want to lose Taehyung. You just needed to let go of the part of you that was so utterly infatuated with him. You needed to lose the part of you that was nothing but him. You needed to find out who you were, and all within the span of a few months.
"You know me. I'll always come back. I'll always be by your side, Tae."
Taehyung's crying. You've seen him cry a million times. At romcoms, whenever his scooter hit his ankle, and when the teacher yelled at him. Never like this, though.
He attacks you in a bear hug. "I love you. I don't know why, but I really feel the need to say it right now. I just think you need to be reminded of that. Is that sappy?"
Your heart melts a bit. "I love you too, Tae." Even if it wasn't in the same way. "I always will, one way or another."
-
When you enrolled to become a summer camp counselor, you expected a lot of things. Taking care of younger children, unappetizing food, the hot sun- sure, whatever.
What you did not expect, however, was Yuna of all people.
Yuna was similar to Ryujin in a lot of ways. She was also shockingly beautiful and damn smart. Obnoxiously girly, too. The exact opposite of you with her tied up camp shirts and makeup. But there was something about her that made it where you couldn't possibly dislike her, no matter how aloof you'd appear to be. You'd try to give her the cold shoulder, act disinterested, all of it- but she took it in stride and still treated you nicely. You couldn't figure it out.
She was your bunkmate for the summer, letting you choose whatever side you wanted. She often worked with the same age group you did, mainly around the 9-10-year-olds. You wouldn't be able to shake her off even if you wanted to.
You had to spend more time with her than anyone else. You would've preferred spending time with the guys, but the overseeing counselors made sure to keep the teen counselors as separated as possible when it came to genders. Almost adults were just brimming with raging hormones it seemed.
But you tolerated Yuna for the most part, only occasionally glaring a bit at her sparkly hoops or impractical flashy sandals.
It wasn't until one day when the two of you were on a lunch break in the counselor's break room while the kids were in the mess hall, that she questioned you about it.
"How come you don't like me?" she questioned.
"I don't hate you."
"I said dislike," she corrected. She didn't seem confrontational, or angry. Simply curious. "You seem to dislike a lot of the girls here. And in general."
You shrug. "I don't know... we're just different, I guess. I'm not like you."
"Different how? We're both girls."
You tense up at that. "Well, you're a girly girl. I'm basically a guy."
"You're trans? Not that I'm judging. It's cool either way, and I support LGBT rights."
"What? No, I'm not. I'm not a lesbian either if that's what you're wondering. You don't know how often I've been asked that," you correct.
"So you don't like me because I'm girly?"
"I don't like anything that's girly. It's just... I don't know. Weird. Unnecessary. Like girls grooming themselves to be prettier and feminine and just..."
"Let me guess- you despised stuff like Taylor Swift and One Direction back in the day- or even now- because they were targetted towards teenage girls?"
You grimaced, sneering a little. "You like them?"
"Damn right I do!" She slaps her hand on the table. "They had kick-ass music and I'm not ashamed. No one says shit about what teenage boys liked, like Beyblades or Pokemon cards."
"Those things are cool, though. It's just the more feminine things like cheesy love songs and pink and Barbies..." You found yourself rolling your eyes already. "They're just... stupid."
"What's wrong with feminine things?"
Your face was getting heated as you struggled to answer her bombarding questions. "I don't know. I guess it's just... weak? Girls are always so pouty, and whiney, and it's always mani-pedis this, makeup that, heels this, pink that. I just don't find it appealing. Guys are better, more simple. Less complicated. Less drama. Less... superficial."
Yuna's brows furrow as she tries to understand what you're saying. "So you're like... sexist against your own sex."
"What? I'm not sexist. How can I be sexist against my own gender?"
"It's like internalized misogyny," she states. "'Guys are so much better. Guy stuff is so much better. Not superficial, not weak, not this not that. Being girly is bad.' That's how you sound right now."
Your eyes narrow. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tell me, Y/N, have you ever thought of, or used the phrase, 'I'm not like other girls'?"
Your face turns red with embarrassment, and it's enough for her.
"Yeah, I get it. Hey, look, we've all had that phase. Most girls went through it in like, middle school. It's typically because society tells us that we're supposed to be girly, but also tells us that girls and those things are weak. Therefore we combat the boxes we're supposed to be in and reject everything about it despite the fact it isn't weak. Women aren't weak, so why should the things we associate with women be weak?"
"I didn't take you for such a feminist."
"I'm the vice president of the Women's Equality club at our school, actually," she beamed. "I'm running for president next year."
"Wow. Mindblowing."
She ignores your sarcasm. "I'm not trying to shove my beliefs down your throat or anything. You're entitled to your opinion, no matter how self-destructive I may think it is. But hear me out. I don't think girls caring about their appearances or superficial things is a bad thing. Hell, I don't even think it's a feminine thing."
"What do you mean? Girls are always going on about their hair, their makeup, their status- that sort of thing."
"And guys are always going on about their body count, their Jordans, and their muscles," she counteracts, quirking a brow.
"You've... got me there."
"C'mon, you're friends with guys. You must see that too. I mean, I think I've heard Taehyung go on about his fancy clothes a million times, and I've only shared three classes with him total!"
That was true. Taehyung really did like his fancy shirts. "I don't know, Taehyung's a genuine guy."
"And girls aren't?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. "I'd like to think I've been genuine with you so far."
"You have," you admit. No one else had been this straightforward with you. "But most girls aren't."
"Like you?" she finishes. "I bet a bunch of girls have attempted to befriend you, but you just prejudged them and casted them aside because they weren't what you deemed 'cool enough' for you or any of that."
"How do you know they weren't judging me first? Or trying to get through me to get to Taehyung?"
"It's possible. But that can't be every single girl. Girls are just as much individuals as men are. No two are the same and all can have varying interests. Both 'girly' and 'boyish'."
"I don't follow."
"Girls are allowed to like lots of things. I'm stereotypically girly but I still like some of the more boyish things you do, like baseball."
"Is that why you were at my game?"
"I come to every game. My dad likes to watch baseball with me, so I grew up with it. Angels girl through and through. I just happened to be talking to Taehyung at the time, which is probably why you just noticed me," she explained.
"I mean, I guess girls are allowed to like other things," you admit.
"They are!" She beams, as though she could see your walls slowly coming down as you begin to reanalyze your mindset. "The thing is girls aren't shamed by society to like traditionally masculine things, but boys are shamed for liking feminine things because society views femininity as weak. That's why you always see badass girls on TV act like total dudes without emotion and with strength, but you rarely see a superhero male cry or like small cute things or show more feminine traits. Though I'd have to give credit to the recent developments of modern television."
"You really do your research on this, huh?"
"I just like to pay attention to things that ignite my passion. Social justice is one of them, even if I've been called the 'feminazi cancer' of our school," she shrugs. "I'm not forcing anyone to believe in what I do, though. I just like having a conversation. A friendly debate, I guess."
"You're not so bad at all, I guess," you say under your breath. "You might've made... good points. Or whatever."
She seems to radiate at those words. "It's not so bad making friends other than guys, isn't it? A healthy level of estrogen to balance out all of the testosterone you're surrounded by."
You chuckle at that. "I guess so."
There's a moment of silence between you two, but it's one of mutual understanding.
"Not to ruin the moment," Yuna cuts in. "But are you in love with Taehyung? I know you've been asked before, but... at the game I saw how you looked at him. Especially when he and Ryujin kissed."
You take a moment of silence, pondering over the question. You felt as though you could talk to her. It wasn't like you could talk to Taehyung.
"Yeah," you finally admit, to both her and yourself. "I think I am."
"What happened? I always thought you guys would end up together. I just figured it would've happened by now until Ryujin came along."
"I don't know. He never looked my way. I tried everything. I've liked him since we were little kids. I took up all of his hobbies and interests. Similarities are what really attract people, you know? I read that online and in our psychology textbooks like a million times. But he never seemed to look my way. I was always just his best friend. I used to think it was just because he was interested in the type of girls I hated, the ones the opposite of us, with makeup and all that stuff..."
"Is that why you hate girly stuff so much? To stand out from the others in front of him?" Yuna tried her best to analyze your words. "Like a kind of 'pick me pick me' mindset?"
"I guess," you shrug. "I think I just wanted to be the one he looked at. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to stand out. I just wanted him to look at me."
"So what now? Does he know how you feel?"
"I don't know. He and I had this big fight a few weeks ago, about a week before camp. The night of the game. I was mad about Ryujin. Mad he wasn't looking at me and my moment. I even ended up quitting softball."
"Oh no," she gasped. "You shouldn't give up on something you love."
"I'm not even sure if I love it, honestly," you tell her. "I'm starting to see more and more that everything I do, everything about me, was just about him. I don't even know who I am anymore. We got in a fight that night and I told him that I needed some time, and told him I was leaving for camp, which was a major bombshell to him. I'm not sure if it was the right call, though. I feel like I left things with him on the rocks to take this break. I just wanted to find out who I am without him, you know?"
She nodded sympathetically. "I understand that. You need to try and become an individual. Not like, one of his limbs. You're your own separate person. You're not just 'Taehyung's best friend'."
You grin. It feels like she gets you. Better than Taehyung does. Better than guys usually did. Was this what it was like being friends with a girl? This deep-rooted understanding? "Yeah, exactly."
"Would this path of self-discovery perhaps involved indulging in at least a few feminine things?"
"I don't know..."
"Come on! At least some part of you has to be curious about what some of the things are like."
"Well, I tried makeup on, like, once, in middle school. I stole my mom's makeup and it was awful. Taehyung made me go back inside and wash it off. I looked like a mess, I even admit it now."
"Are you open to trying it again?"
"I'm not sure..."
"C'mon! It'll be fun! A little girl's night. I can teach you makeup, you can try on some of the dresses I brought with me- I haven't gotten to wear them like I thought- and ooh! We can even pierce your ears! You'd look killer in hoops."
You laughed at that. "One step at a time."
-
"I'm really starting to think I'm just not meant to be girly."
"Oh come on, it's not that bad!"
"Yuna, I've got nail polish on my wrist. It's supposed to go on my nails, hence the name."
"Well, you're sloppy, sure, but everyone is their first time! Besides you started with your non-dominant hand, which I've never heard of before," she huffed. "Here, let me do your other hand. I'll show you how it's supposed to be done."
You offer her the nail polish and your hand, and she meticulously coats the shiny color on. She blows on your fingertips for a bit after doing a second coat, and you wiggle your fingers, admiring it.
"See? Isn't that pretty?" she remarks.
"I feel like a hooker."
"Not only hookers wear nail polish! E-boys do it too."
"I don't think I've ever seen an e-boy with red nail polish," you note. You cock your head to the side, looking at it. "Is the reason it looks so off because my nails are short?"
"No, plenty of people with short nails wear nail polish." Yuna pauses. "But it may have contributed to the rumor you were a lesbian."
"Ha, funny," you say bluntly. "I guess it's a nice change, though."
"We haven't even gotten to the best part!" Yuna shuffles through her duffle bag before getting out a small bag, dumping out the contents to reveal various cosmetics. "Makeup!"
"Oh, I don't know..."
"C'mon! I'm dying to see you in red. The nail polish only further proves my theory that red's your color."
"Well, can we start it off easy? I don't want to look like a hooker on the first try."
"For the last time, stop comparing girly things to being cheap!" Yuna huffs. "I suppose though that it'd be best for us to try a natural look though... Just enhance your already pretty features."
You grimace at the word. The only time you've ever been called pretty was probably by your mom. In the fifth grade.
Still, you close your eyes, you purse your lips, and you bear with the weird sensation of various brushes on your face before you're locking eyes with yourself in a mirror.
You look... pretty.
Still yourself, but small things. Small details. Your lips are a little shinier, and your eyes look a bit more defined. Your lashes are longer and you can't even see some of the blemishes on your face unless you squint.
And yet you still look like you.
"Oh, wow." You can't help but blurt out the words, all you can manage in your moment of surprise.
"I know right! I went for one of those Michelle Phan looks- God I love her new makeup. And you look stunning as ever!" Yuna beams as she admires her handiwork. "I'm telling you, you'd turn heads in an instant."
"It feels kind of weird on my face."
"You get used to it. There's a lot of makeup that's a lot more breathable if you'd like me to introduce you to it." Yuna stares intently at you as you continue to examine your looks. "So... what do you think?"
"I feel... pretty."
Yuna's smile was so big you thought her face would tear in two.
"Really? Really? Oh my God, I'm so happy to hear that!" She squeals, dropping the mirror before attacking you in a bear hug. "Now to try on the skirt I brought!"
"You never mentioned skirts!"
"I've got just the thing!"
"That's like two inches long, woman!"
-
As it turns out, there are some things you really like about being "girly". You hated to admit it but there were always some aspects that you wished to explored, yet refused yourself to. It didn't feel so much as conforming to what a woman was supposed to be rather than expressing yourself. You found out things you never would've thought you would.
You weren't a big fan of foundation or eyeshadow, for one, though you definitely enjoyed cat wings and lipstick. You liked using heat products to curl or straighten your hair, though Yuna had to make sure you didn't do too much in fear you could cause heat damage. You also learned that you couldn't use an eyelash curler for the life of you.
Your confidence seemed to grow, too. You usually wore baggy clothes, so showing off your body beyond what you were usually comfortable with was different. You were uncomfortable at first, but Yuna let you slowly build up to wearing skirts or dresses. Nothing too skimpy, and the skirts weren't nearly as short as hers, but it was modest enough for you to feel as though you weren't going to flash anyone. As it turns out, you had great legs.
Over the course of summer camp, you made a transformation. You even got your ears pierced. Though that was a horrifying experience.
"Do you even know what you're doing?"
"Of course I do! I've done this like ten times."
"Shouldn't we just go to Claire's or something?"
"No way! With those piercing guns? You're far better off with a needle."
"I don't know..."
"Girls get these through their nipples and clits- this'll be nothing!"
"They what?!"
"Get ready!"
"Yuna I change my- FUCK!"
"Stop crying, we've got to do the other side. Geez, who thought you were such a baby."
So yeah, that went well.
You were still able to enjoy things that were tomboyish. You taught baseball to the kids you were taking care of at the camp. You still scraped your knees and wore baseball caps. Turns out that even a skimpy skirt didn't stop Yuna from getting her hands dirty.
Taehyung had texted you throughout camp. He made sure to text you every day. Despite the distance you were taking from him, you couldn't help but feel your heart jump in your chest with every chime of your phone. However, you found yourself less eager to check your phone every five seconds for his messages. You were becoming occupied. You had another friend to spend time with.
Besides, based on his social media he was doing just fine with Ryujin. The two of them seemed to constantly post on Instagram. Pain still leered with every photo, but you tried your best to ignore it.
Yuna always wanted to post the two of you on social media. "Let me show off my bestie!" she'd say.
You'd refuse, opting instead to take photos for her as she modeled. She was damn good at it too. When she questioned why you were so averse to posting any of the photos you two would take, you struggled to answer. You looked at your old posts. Softball pictures. Taehyung. Food. Memes. More Taehyung.
Were you ready for the world to see what you were like now? For Taehyung to? To let go of your previous image?
You decided to keep it a secret for now.
Summer camp was over sooner than you would've liked. A week before school started, to be precise. It was sad, parting with the kids who had grown attached to you, and leaving the place that seemed to start part of your coming of age story. Part of you assumed your friendship with Yuna would be over once the glory of camp ended, but she showed up to your house with some face masks that her mom gave her and PJs for a sleepover.
You laid on your bed, feeling the slimy texture of the mask as Yuna gazed out of your window.
"Holy shit, did he get more fit?" she questioned, gazing into Taehyung's bedroom window. "Just when I thought he couldn't get any hotter. I can see why you've been in love with him all these years."
You smack her away from the window. "Stop spying on him, perv."
"What, like you haven't? I bet it was good masturbation material for when you started feeling things down there." She wiggles her brows.
"Ew! You're so gross," you laugh.
"Why don't you say hi to him? Or hang out? We start school next week. It'd be nice to wedge a little time with him before then. Or are you still insistent on hiding your new look?"
"I don't think I look particularly sexy at the moment. He's not going to exactly gasp in shock if he were to see me right now." It was true. You were wearing a sports sweatshirt with sweatpants, and your hair in a bun to keep it away from the face mask. "This thing feels weird, by the way. It's supposed to brighten skin?"
"Well, what's the deal then?" Yuna continues, ignoring your attempt to change the topic.
"I texted him the moment I got home if he wanted to hang out. He told me he was hanging out with Ryujin. It seems like the two of them have gotten pretty serious since we left for camp. I have no doubt they'll be spending the rest of the week together. Besides, what girlfriend likes the girl best friend?"
"The secure, non-toxic ones."
"Well, she'd be justified in this one. Considering the fact I'm in love with him."
"We don't know if you're still in love with him. A lot's changed back then. Some people get over crushes in a week."
"One that's lasted for years?"
"In which case, you would've gotten over him within months. Seems like a decent amount of time. You'll only know when you start interacting with him again." Yuna leans back to peak at Taehyung through the window. "Jesus, he's shirtless. Hand me a vibrator would you?"
"You're fucking lying bitch lemme see." You peak through the window to gaze into his room.
You see Taehyung laying on his bed, texting away. Shirtless. You didn't get a good look but he had definitely built up significantly since you last saw him. How had he gotten impossibly more handsome?
As though having a sixth sense, he looks out the window to lock eyes with you and Yuna. Your blood freezes and in a moment of panic, you close the curtains, ducking below the window sill with Yuna to hide. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles. You wonder if he saw you.
You get a chime on your phone.
From TaeTae <3: i totally saw you btw
From TaeTae <3: what's that thing on your face anyway
You burst into a fit of laughter as Yuna snatches your phone.
"I can't believe you still have a heart by his name. All I have is an eggplant."
-
First day of Senior year! Wooo! And, uh, you look around at all of these girls around you and think, why didn't I give them a chance?
Befriending Yuna and discovering new parts of yourself really opened your eyes to your previous outlook on life. You cringed remembering how judgemental you were.
It was also weird having the year start out so differently from the others. Every school day Taehyung would drive you to and from school. He had warned you in preparation, however, that he was going to start driving Ryujin to school. Thankfully Yuna was already prepared to save you from the awkwardness of sitting in the backseat, third-wheeling the couple, and chose to offer you a ride.
Yuna truly was an angel on Earth.
And so you came to school uncomfortable as ever, ever self-conscious as you overthought whether or not people were staring at you. Y/N? In a skirt? Unheard of!
And yet it was true. You were dressed in a pretty white blouse and a plaid skirt, with high tops and pins to show you were in with the latest trends. Your arm was hooked with Yuna's as she greeted others, her fashion choice of 70's bellbottoms and a butterfly t-shirt oddly complementing your outfit. She had picked yours out after all. You couldn't help but think that if this were happening a year prior you would've snarled at her.
"Ooh, I see Taehyung!" she exclaims, excited as she begins to drag you towards his locker.
"Wait, Yuna, I don't think I'm read-"
"Hi, Tae!"
Taehyung looks as handsome as always. Had his shoulders gotten broader since summer? Or was his jaw a little more square? Whatever it was, he had butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach, and your mouth went dry at the sight of him.
Ryujin sealed the deal, her edgier outfit of combat boots and a black skirt contrasting the flowery nature of your outfit. All three of you girls were dressed feminine but in different ways.
"Long time no see, Ug..." Taehyung's words trail off as he finally scans your outfit, jaw dropping slightly at your transformation. You tried to recall the last time Taehyung had ever seen your bare legs in all their glory. "Y/N?"
"You look gorgeous Y/N! I love the new look!" Ryujin greets you with a tight hug, which you awkwardly accept.
"Oh, thank you... a lot's changed over the summer I guess," you say, a bit insecure about your look. People probably thought you looked stupid. You did look stupid. Who were you to think you could pull this off?
"It looks really good! Like seriously, you're super hot! Not that you weren't before but... wow!"
"I know right?" Yuna beams at you. "She looks like a goddess."
"Now you're just lying," you laugh.
"No, I'm serious! C'mon, look at you! It's like a total 180."
"You make it sound like before I never took a bath."
"To be fair you did play sports a lot."
You lightly smack her arm at that.
Taehyung's eyes haven't left you for a moment, still in utter shock. Maybe it was the first time he was seeing you as a girl. Maybe it was because in all the 10+ years he knew you, you had only looked a certain way. Maybe it was something else.
He coughs awkwardly, realizing all of you had gone silent. He adverts his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, you look... good. It's a nice change, it compliments you."
You feel your face go a bit red at that. You feel yourself get a bit more comfortable. It wasn't because you felt like you needed a guy's approval- it was because it was Taehyung. Taehyung who always pointed out when you looked stupid out of endearment, who never lied to you. That meant he meant it. "Oh. Thanks, I guess."
"We'll see you guys later, we've got to get to homeroom to pick up our schedules. See you later!" Yuna drags you away, giggling once you two are out of earshot. "Oh my god oh my god, he was totally checking me out!"
"No, he wasn't! He has a girlfriend!"
"You can window shop you just can't make a purchase!"
"I can't believe you!"
"Don't think I didn't notice how totally in love you still are."
"It's not going to go away in an instant, you know. Crushes are like an illness. I read it in Seventeen once."
"You'll just have to build up your immune system, then."
-
As it turns out, your new look stuck. You really started to like the lighter, more colorful colors. You even read online that it made you a bit happier, releasing endorphins or whatever. Plus dressing nice, though a lot of effort, made you a bit more productive.
Things were really changing.
And even Taehyung was questioning it.
Shortly after seeing your new look he asked you to hang out the first day he was free and wasn't already planning to spend time with Ryujin. You happily agreed, giddy to spend time with him like you used to, mind buzzing with curiosity.
The two of you went into a fast-food drive-in restaurant, drinking milkshakes and eating burgers when he finally questioned you on it.
"So... what sparked all of this?" he finally blurted out. "The skirts, the colors, the girliness... I thought you hated that stuff. Hell, I know you do, it was the staple of your personality for ten years."
You fidgeted with the necklace you were wearing that day, trying to think of how to answer. "I had a lot of time to kind of discover myself at camp, I guess."
"Does this have anything to do with that fight we had before you left?"
The fight. You were so excited for prospects of the future you didn't even think to look back on the past.
"Oh... that."
"Yeah, when you said we needed a break so you could figure yourself out." Taehyung's quiet for a moment. "Is this you without me?"
You're stunned by the question, unsure of how to answer. Was this what you were without Taehyung's influence? Without the baseballs and scraped knees? But you still liked those. You just also liked skirts and the colors pink and purple. Did you change that much just a few months away from him? You were still prideful and unsure. Surely you were still his best friend, deep down.
"I guess so," you mumble, giving a small shrug. "I just wanted to try something different I guess."
"You're not doing this for some guy, are you? You're perfect either way, Y/N. I hope you know that."
There the butterflies go again. But were you? Was this just another ploy to get Taehyung to notice you?
"I'm not," you say honestly. "I think I'm just finally allowing myself to do to something for me and not for someone else, honestly."
He frowned at you. "You were trying to appease someone else?"
"I don't think it's something I can talk about with you, Tae. At least not right now."
"Oh." He seems deflated at that, and it breaks your heart. "As long as you're doing this for you and not someone else. That's all that matters. I like you either way. Tomboy Y/N and pretty Y/N."
"You think I'm pretty?" You were so used to your friend greeting you as Ugly or as demeaning, joking names.
Taehyung's face went red. "I mean, yeah. I've always thought you were pretty. It's not cause of this new look you just look more... happy I guess. Or the bright colors. It suits you..."
Your face goes red too. "Thanks, Tae. It means a lot from you"
"N-No problem." He looks out of the window, away from you, taking a sip of his milkshake. There's a weird sort of tension in the air. "It felt weird not spending the summer with you."
"Yeah, same here. I missed you a lot," you admit. "It was difficult being away from my best friend for so long."
"Best friend? You sure that isn't Yuna now?" he asks playfully.
You give him a light shove, rolling your eyes as he chuckles. "Yuna's my best girl friend. You're my best friend, forever and always. You know that."
"I get insecure sometimes!" he whines.
"Yeah, right," you say, ruffling his hair. "I'm sure you didn't miss me at all. You should've texted me more!"
"I got busy! Look at the abs I got!"
"Put your shirt down, they probably look like the world's saddest stack of Hawaiian rolls!"
"Excuse you, woman!"
"Don't woman me! I might be wearing a dress but I'll still kick your ass!"
"Have mercy!"
-
Taehyung wasn't the only guy to notice your new look. You were getting a few more stares, though mainly out of wonder than actual perversion. However, it also seemed to spark attention you weren't expecting.
Attraction.
Kim Seokjin was undeniably one of the most attractive boys in your grade. Some thought he was more handsome than Taehyung, though you always showed a preference for the younger. Still, it shocked you when Seokjin, after a few posts on social media including your new style and branding, decides to start DMing you. First through Instagram, and then through Snapchat.
Before long he's starting to walk you to classes. He's offering you rides home. He's inviting you out.
Before you know it you've started a relationship.
Yuna encouraged it, of course. Claimed it was part of the healing process of getting over Taehyung.
When you told Taehyung about it he seemed indifferent, but nevertheless congratulated you on your newfound relationship.
Ryujin, whom you were on good terms with, seemed elated for you, excited for the prospect of double dates. Apparently, she saw some good date ideas for them on Pinterest. You weren't as excited about the idea.
You had complained to Yuna about it before.
"I don't feel nearly as much for him as I feel- I mean felt for Taehyung. I'm attracted to him, sure, but that's about it."
Yuna had simply shrugged. "Sometimes that's all you need. We're in high school- no one's saying you've got to get married to him. You don't have to date him if you don't want, of course. But one of the main purposes of dating is to find out what you do and don't like, in both yourself and in another. You should date for the experience, not the end goal. Maybe Seokjin would give you the experience you could never get with Taehyung."
And so you did. You agreed to be Seokjin's girlfriend. When you questioned why he found an interest in you, when the two of you had been classmates plenty of times years prior, he was honest.
"Before you were always on Taehyung's side. It was like a package deal. People usually only want to date one person, not two. You seem more independent now. It made me notice you, and just you."
Your relationship with him lasted longer than you expected. He was well aware it was your first relationship and took his time with you. He treated you well and didn't pressure you into sex. He really seemed to like you, too. You taught him how the rules and how to play baseball, and on occasion, he'd watch with your family. One time he took you out to the park and laid out a blanket for a picnic. It wasn't until he started getting fidgety with the ants around that the two of you decided to move it someplace else.
Seokjin was a great first boyfriend. He was the gentle first time. He was the type who would hold your hand to show you off. He was the type to turn up the radio in the car and tell you what parts of the song made him think of you. He was the type to constantly show you off on social media. There wouldn't go a full 24 hours when you weren't on his Snapchat story.
But all good things came to an end. With Seokjin things began to feel just superficial. The feelings, the posts, the showing off. It didn't feel in depth. He was a nice guy, sure, but there didn't seem to be much emotion in your relationship. The two of you never cried in front of each other. You never shared hopes or dreams or fears. You tried to talk to him about the deeper stuff, but he'd act like there wasn't much to him. Maybe he wanted to seem to you how he did to the outside world- perfect.
And so it ended. It ended on mutual terms, truthfully enough. You complained about your reasons and he complained about his. His complaint was saying you weren't as invested in the relationship as he was. True, he posted you far more times, sort of establishing you as a power couple, but you were more scarce. You preferred to post your outfits, liking the new combinations you were coming up with as Yuna continued to teach you what went with what.
You didn't really cry after the breakup. You texted Taehyung, and he was at your house within minutes, having your favorite flavor of ice cream.
"I've never been with a girl during a breakup, but this is what they always do in movies so we'll see how it goes. Let me squirt whipped cream in your mouth."
Taehyung was an excellent caretaker as it turned out. He didn't hesitate to spend time with you and help you through your first breakup, putting on a sad movie that he knew always had you cry.
"It's good to cry. You might not want to cry now- I know you, you're stubborn, but you should let out the emotions one way or another."
You sobbed and ate ice cream as Taehyung wrapped you tightly in a blanket.
"Why didn't you text Yuna instead?" Taehyung quietly asked as you began to drift off to sleep on his arm. You had no doubt it was falling asleep beneath you.
"I don't know. You felt like the person to talk to," you admit. "You're always first, I guess. I'll tell her in the morning."
Yuna had a different approach. She shit talked about Seokjin with you, letting you take out your pent up frustration.
"You should totally have a rebound! You're not a virgin anymore, go bone one out."
"I'm not doing that Yuna."
"C'mon! Now's the time to get kinky!"
"Shut the fuck up Yuna."
"Maybe you're so chill about it is because Seokjin was the rebound."
"My relationship with him was more than just a fluke to get over Taehyung," you huff. "Who I'm totally over, by the way."
"Sure, sure," Yuna said, grinned. "Whatever you say."
"We're just best friends!"
"You know when the word just is in front of it, you're in trouble."
"I'm gonna kill you."
You did move on. You no longer spoke to Seokjin, truth be told. Part of you actually seemed far more broken over the relationship than you suspected you would be. You were more invested than you let yourself admit. But you picked up the pieces and went about your day.
And one day you paid back the favor to Taehyung.
Ryujin had reportedly dumped him.
Your breakup with Seokjin had been like a slow, quiet death. It wasn't a passionate relationship, and it ended just the same. Taehyung's relationship with Ryujin ended the opposite. It built with tension like someone was piling rocks on top of it, applying more and more pressure until it just crumbled. No, not even that- it was an avalanche.
You don't think you loved Seokjin- not really. Not the way you loved Taehyung. Taehyung, though, he loved Ryujin. It always hurt you, but he really did. He was head over heels in love with her, and you really thought she felt the same.
Sure, they had their problems. There were lots of times where you'd look into Taehyung's bedroom window and see him on the phone with her, pacing back and forth, quiet mutterings and a stern voice. Towards the end of their relationship, it was yelling, though. He was screaming cursing, and you'd have to slam your window shut in an attempt to drown him out, feeling as though you were intruding seeing this side of their relationship.
Taehyung wasn't the type to talk about his personal life- even with you. You never pried, though. You knew hearing about his relationship would hurt you, and you didn't want to be nosy. What happened between them was between them, until the end.
Ryujin had cheated on him with one of his teammates.
That had to sting.
She hadn't even gathered the courage to tell him in person. He was on the phone with her, arguing, as usual, screaming at the top of his lungs since his parents were still working. They were hurling insults towards each other, and you're about to shut the window before everything suddenly went quiet. You couldn't even hear her shrill voice on the other end, which was how loud she usually was.
"What?" Taehyung said, in shock.
You weren't able to hear what she said.
"With who?"
You slowly look out of your window, seeing Taehyung. He was frozen, locked in place, staring off into the distance.
"Fucking bitch!"
He throws his phone as hard as he could against the wall. Seeing as he was one of the best pitchers on his team, you had no doubt he chucked it so hard to shatter it. What shocks you even more was when he curls into himself, sobbing, his body shaking as he wraps his arms around himself and buries his face in his knees.
You wait a few minutes, unsure of what to do. Should you leave him alone at this moment?
He may need someone.
You knock against your window and duck below the opening to talk to him. "Taehyung?"
He looks up, face red with either fury or embarrassment- or maybe a million other emotions you wouldn't be able to comprehend. He looks at you, though, still crying. He doesn't bother to shield himself from you, probably all too aware now what you had witnessed.
"Do you need me to come over? I could probably sneak some of my dad's booze. We can talk about things. Or not. Up to you."
Taehyung slowly nods, sniffling. "I'd like that."
And so you obediently get up and get a few of your dad's beers- not enough to get either of you blackout drunk, but enough to help him get tipsy or cool down a little bit. Hydrate him maybe. You have no chance to even think about your appearance, instead just pulling on mom jeans and a baseball jersey you usually lounge around the house in.
He lets you in, and the moment you two are in his room, he collapses into your arms. You set the beers down and hug him as tightly as you can. He stays there, wrapped around you like ivy, sobbing. Never in all of your years of being friends with Taehyung had you seen him this broken. In a way, it humanizes him to you.
You were here for him as a friend and just that. You were completely, 100%, over Kim Taehyung. You were here to support him and not take advantage of his sadness- you weren't that girl anymore. In the past, you would've thought this would point out how much better you are than Ryujin.
You were over Kim Taehyung. It was official.
Taehyung's filter is gone the moment alcohol passes his lips. He talked a lot about him and Ryujin, without you even asking. All of the small things. He always felt as though he wasn't good enough for her, and felt as though he were more invested in the relationship. She felt as though she was always competing with you, and despite telling him to cut you off, he refused, claiming it was impossible because not only were you best friends but also next-door neighbors. Apparently she began to have a newfound secret resentment towards you after the summer with Yuna, now seeing you as a threat, especially with the attention you were beginning to garner. Almost every time they got into an argument Ryujin would simply snap at him to go fuck his best friend. Before long they were bickering over nothing. Taehyung knew they were going to end, but not like this.
The teammate she slept with was one he had known for years but never had a real bond with. Taehyung suspected the reason she slept with the teammate wasn't because of any real attraction, but to hurt him. Every time he saw the teammate, he'd think of her. Every time he played a game, he'd think of her. She wanted to destroy one of the few things he truly did love.
Taehyung's words began to slur, having run out of tears, his voice dry despite the drinking.
"I shouldn't have kissed her that day," Taehyung says, "at your game."
You recall the day. "You're only saying that because you're mad at her. That was one of the happiest days of your life, though."
"No, it wasn't. It was the day you left me. Because I was stupid and stole your moment."
"I never left you, Tae. I never will, you know that. I just went off to summer camp," you chuckle.
"No, you left me. You changed."
"Because I started giving a shit about looking nice? I don't think that really changes who I am."
"No, I said that wrong. You didn't change. We changed. Because I fucked everything up."
"It was a year ago, Tae. I forgave you a long time ago."
"No. I fucked everything up. With Ryujin, kissing her at the game, neglecting you- I, fuck." He curses, muttering, burying his face into your shoulder, still weak. "Things used to be so simple. You're my best friend. You were. You are. You'll always be, right?"
"Of course, Tae."
"I miss how we used to be. Just me and you. No Ryujin, no Seokjin, hell, no Yuna. Just you, one of the guys."
You let out a sigh. "I'm not one of the guys, though, Tae. I haven't been for a long time. I'm still a girl. I just started to allow myself to acknowledge it."
"I know you're a girl! God, you think I'm not always aware of that? Even Ryujin was aware. It's why she was always bitching about you," Taehyung huffs.
"You never seemed to be aware of it. Except maybe when I started wearing skirts." You laugh a little. "I remember that first day- you couldn't stop staring at my legs."
"You look really good in a skirt."
"Now you're just acting like a horny teenager."
"We're not kids anymore. We're both adults- or we're supposed to be, at 18, especially since it's only the rest of our lives starting soon. After prom, after graduation, college just around the corner."
"True," you hum. "It always felt as though you saw me as a kid sister. And then as a kid brother. And before long it felt as though you just saw me as an extension of yourself, as like... a limb. Even Seokjin said so, you know. He only noticed me after I started seeming like an individual."
"Seokjin's an idiot."
"No, he's not. We may have broken up, but he had a point. I was co-dependent on you, to an unhealthy degree. I was like an extension of you- I went everywhere you went, I did everything you did, I liked everything you liked- hell, you're the reason I even wanted to get into softball. To impress you. It was like I was obsessed."
"Why, though?"
"You still don't know?" You look him in the eye, heart racing as though thought about if you were really going to admit this to him. "Taehyung, you were my everything. You were my first kiss, my first crush, my best friend. I was in love with you, for years."
Taehyung blinks in surprise, face blank. "What?"
"You couldn't have been clueless that entire time, Tae."
"Maybe I suspected, but I thought that was just how you were. How we were."
"Do you remember that day I went out with a bunch of makeup on my face? Back in middle school? And you said I looked like a circus?"
"Yeah?"
"I did it because I heard you had a crush on Yeji. I saw she wore makeup and wanted to be like her so you'd like me. It was a fail, obviously. All of my attempts were. I dressed and acted like a tomboy to make you notice me and be close to me, to be one of the guys because I thought it made me superior to the other girls and I wanted so badly to be like you. I thought if I acted like that you'd see you didn't want all of those 'girly girls' and want me instead."
"I... I didn't know that."
"Of course you didn't." You smile fondly at him, ruffling his hair. "My sweet, naive Taehyung."
"So why'd you stop? Acting so boyish, I mean."
"Honestly it had to do with the day you kissed Ryujin. I had already been thinking about going to camp, slowly realizing I wasn't really an individual from you and wanted to see what I was like without you. But that day, to have completed one of my biggest accomplishments yet and to see you completely focused on someone else... I just realized nothing I did would make you like me. Would make you notice me. No matter what you were never going to see me that way because I had dug myself in a hole trying to be the opposite of girls like Ryujin because I looked down on them. I thought eventually you would too, but I was wrong. And I realized that everything I did was pointless."
"And then?"
"And then I left and figured myself out. I figured out that I had been a bit misogynistic, automatically seeing feminine things as inferior. I realized I wasn't being a good friend to you, not really, doing everything in my power and manipulating the friendship in hopes of a relationship. I didn't think about what you wanted and was selfish with my own desires. And then I became what I am now. I'm still the same girl you know, who likes softball and getting dirty and all that, but I also like butterflies and miniskirts and a million other things I would've scoffed at." You thought for a moment. "I guess that's the long answer as to why we aren't the way we were anymore. I think it's for the better, though."
Taehyung stares at you for a moment and hugs you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You're surprised to have this reaction to your confession but hug him anyway.
"I'm sorry, I'm probably overwhelming you with this information. You're already going through enough- I shouldn't be shifting the focus. I-"
"I should've kissed you instead."
You freeze at that. "What?"
"At the game. It was your homerun and I should've kissed you instead. I regret it."
No. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. You were finally over Taehyung- at least, you thought so. You dated other guys. You were determined to think of him as no more than a friend. You thought you matured past this schoolgirl crush. Hell, you were an adult now! You thought you moved on.
But hearing those words, the words you waited so, so long for. It had your head spinning, swarms of treasured memories and suppressed feelings bubbling up to the surface.
"You're just saying that-"
"No, I'm not." He pulls back to look at you. "I liked you when we were in elementary school because you were the fastest girl in school. I didn't know how to cope with my crush so I just acted mean and you rolled with it, and I was so impressed. I called you ugly even though you're beautiful- you've always been beautiful, Y/N. When we went to Jimin's birthday party I was so nervous, because I didn't want some asshole taking your first kiss, and I was so glad it was me who got to finally kiss you. But you seemed so indifferent I gave up. When Seokjin started dating you I thought you were too good for him but I was also so happy you'd get a chance at love that I didn't care about whatever small bit of jealousy I may have had. And I always thought back to that day, of what would've happened if I had kissed you after your amazing home run. So I really, really mean it when I say I wish I had kissed you."
You can't believe it. In all the years you've known Taehyung, pined for him, you dreamt of this moment. And it was finally happening.
But did you still want it? Did you still want him?
Did he?
"You're just heartbroken, Taehyung. You don't mean it. You're dealing with the aftermath of Ryujin's betrayal and trying to throw your feelings onto me in hopes I can make you feel better. But you're still in love with Ryujin, Taehyung. You and I both know that."
Taehyung's quiet at that. "Maybe."
"No, you are. And that's ok. Feelings don't disappear overnight."
"Did yours? You always say you loved me, not that you love me."
"I do still love you. I think... I think back then it was infatuation, though."
"Do you love me? Now? In that way?"
"You mean the way you love Ryujin?"
Taehyung stays quiet, flinching still even at her name.
"I didn't love Seokjin- definitely not the way I felt with you. What I feel with you... is a lot. It's so many things it's impossible to put into words. I'll always love you, as a best friend, and maybe more... But it doesn't matter, Taehyung. You're not ready for how I feel, at least not now."
"And what if one day I am?" he questions. "What happens when I'm ready? Will you still be waiting?"
"I don't know. I can't promise that- no one can. Our timing's always been a bit off, hasn't it?" You smile bitterly. "If you decide that it's finally your turn to do the chasing, and I figure out my feelings alongside you... Well, I don't know. I won't make promises and I don't want to give us hope if there isn't any."
"Ok. You'll still stay by me, though? Even as a friend?"
"Always."
-
You're beyond surprised when you wake up the next morning and life simply goes on.
You always thought the moment your best friend finally liked you back everything would change. But no. You woke up at the foot of his bed, his head resting on your shoulder as he snored peacefully, having run out of tears hours prior.
The rays still shone, the world still turned, and you two were still best friends.
And maybe more.
You and Taehyung didn't talk about it afterward. It wasn't as though it didn't happen, though. There was an underlying tension with every movement. With every brush of his fingers against yours, with every laugh. Every time he looked at you for simply a moment too long you were reminded of what the two of you talked about.
He liked you. Or possibly did.
But he was getting over Ryujin.
But you've waited for so long.
But you're not even sure if you're really in love with him or simply projected your infatuation.
So many complications and overthinking came along with his smiles. You felt as though you were in elementary school again. Your heart would thump a little too loudly or race a tad bit quicker. You were scared you were going to revert, but surprisingly you didn't.
Taehyung was clearly as affected, thinking back to that day. You would see him analyzing and studying you, or simply looking at you with a soft smile, whether you were in sweats or a skirt.
You'd complain to Yuna a bit about it. The two of you had gone out to the local cafe, a decaf for her (disgusting) and a peppermint mocha for you (delicious).
"It's so frustrating!" you whined. "I catch myself and I think- I'm so totally not over this boy, and then another moment I'm like, no, that wasn't love, it was infatuation. I've totally grown past that."
"If you're still stressing over it, clearly you're not over it," Yuna points out. "You've got it bad, girl. You weren't like this for Seokjin."
"I couldn't love Seokjin when I was infatuated with someone else."
"In love," Yuna corrected.
"We have yet to determine that."
"Well, you know Taehyung better than anyone else. You know the real him, the good the bad and the ugly. Infatuation is typically all about how they make you feel, about the good sides of them without acknowledging the bad."
"And what about him? I mean, he got out of a very intense relationship with Ryujin. On pretty bad terms."
"What about her? They're over."
"He was in love with her. I don't want to be some rebound- for him to just throw his feelings onto because he can't cope with the breakup. It would ruin our friendship completely. Besides, any guy who moves on so quickly from one girlfriend to hop onto another is not to be trusted. I know I'd feel hurt if the person I was with just jumped to another relationship so quickly after we ended, as though we meant nothing."
"Fair point, fair point, except for the fact- oh, I don't know- that it's been like, a month?"
"That's not that long."
"Ten years is though. Even infatuation can't last that long."
"I'm totally screwed, aren't I?"
"If you give him a chance you will be eventually. I wouldn't know but I'm sure he's packing some shmeat," Yuna laughs. "Want to see what my cat did this morning?"
"...Yes."
-
Taehyung surprises you with a proposal towards the end of the school year.
It was simple. It was cute. It was what you and Taehyung.
You had been studying for an upcoming quiz when you got a text from Taehyung telling you to look outside your window.
"I swear to God, Tae, if this is just you trying to show me what weird hentai you found again I'm closing my curtains for good!"
You oblige, however, only to see stick notes completely covering his window. It was covered completely in yellow save for a few pink ones that spelled out, 'PROM?'
You couldn't help but smile and laugh. "What is this?"
He lifts up the window, beaming. "What? Can't a best friend ask their other best friend to go to prom with them?"
"Pretty lame way to ask, if you ask me. I would've expected flowers."
"You always hated flowers."
"There's a lot of things I don't hate anymore."
"Oh that's right, it's sunflowers you hate. But you have a fetish for magnolias," he recalls. "Never the less! There is more to this promposal. I'm so sorry to have worried you, Your Highness."
"Then, by all means, continue, good sir."
It's at that moment he pulls out his beloved saxophone, wiggling his brows.
"Dear God-"
"I'm not stopping until you say yes." With that, he quickly begins playing the meme-worthy sexy saxophone song that seemed to play during the worst seduction scenes. You laugh so hard you begin to cry, finding the situation absolutely preposterous.
"Yes! Yes, I'll go to prom with you, you huge idiot." You're barely able to wheeze the sentence out. "For the love of God, though, have mercy."
"Thank God, I think I was starting to get light-headed," he admits.
"When'd you even have time to practice that?"
"In my garage when I know you're taking your daily nap."
"You're such a dork."
"You love this dork, though."
All you do is smile because, at that moment, you knew he was completely right.
-
Both of your parents are completely thrilled with this, taking various photos of you.
"Oh, they look so cute, don't they?" your mother gushes.
"I always had a feeling they'd get together eventually. Remember how we'd plan the wedding?" his mother replies.
"Oh! With the yellow and the-"
"Let's not go so far! They're going to prom, not to the alter," your father chuckles.
"And you said it'd be after college," his father laughs. "You owe me fifty!"
"Guys! Can we go? The event's going to start any minute," you say. "I'd hate to miss out on Senior prom due to our parents."
"Oh of course dear. Be safe! And don't drink the punch!"
"You only say that because it was you who spiked it our prom."
"Exactly."
The prom wasn't all that to be fair. Beautiful dresses and loud music, and some mediocre food. You greeted the people you knew and hugged Yuna especially, gushing over the dress you helped her pick out. She looked beautiful as always. On one occasion you saw Ryujin though, with Tae's teammate, and you make sure to steer clear. Taehyung doesn't seem to notice, though, still gripping onto your hand tightly as you two greet your friends. You were happy though with it. Despite how the trap music rattled your bones you were so pumped up with adrenaline you were ready to burst.
"I'm going to get us a few drinks before anyone spikes the punch, and then we can dance, ok?" Taehyung says.
"Of course you're gonna make sure we're hydrated."
"Bitch, who's got the better skin? That's what I thought. Wait here, and I'll be right back."
You obediently wait as he disappears to get refreshments. It doesn't take long for a certain someone to find you.
"Long time no see."
"Oh, Seokjin! Nice to see you. You look handsome as always," you greet, giving him an awkward hug. "Who're you here with?"
"Chaeryong. We've been dating for a while now."
"I think I heard about that. You two look good together."
"Thank you. As do you and Taehyung," Seokjin comments.
"Oh, we're just here as friends."
"Really? It didn't seem like it," he says. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better. The past is past. I always had a feeling you and Taehyung would end up together. I think everyone did at some point. It's not hard to see."
You're unable to respond, as soon enough Taehyung's by your side.
"Mind if I steal my date?" he questions.
"Be my guest. You two have fun." And with that, Seokjin disappears.
"What did he want?" Taehyung questioned, passing you your drink.
"Nothing. He just said we look good together," you say, taking a sip.
"Damn right we do. I even got a matching tie to your dress and everything."
The two of you spend the rest of the night dancing until your hair was oily and you were covered in sweat. Neither of you cared though, gorging yourself on the food that was provided and drinking until you finally tasted alcohol. It was a great night, all in all. It wasn't like the movies, where you're crowned the prom queen or have some big revelation. Hell, during the slow dance the two of you could only snicker as you point out who was grabbing whose ass.
And then it's over as soon as it started. You've got that post-party glow of a quickly beating heart and the feeling of both satisfaction and longing for the night that had transpired. It hits you like a wave when you and Taehyung finally roll in front of your house.
"Do you want me to walk you to the door?" he questions.
"We live right next to each other."
"Yeah, but I still believe in being a gentleman. Scratch that- a good person. I don't want you getting kidnapped on your way to the door."
You roll your eyes and the two of you step up to the door. "I'm so safe, I don't know what I would've done all alone during those twenty feet."
"I bet. Do you want to go to the batting cages tomorrow by the way? I meant to ask, but I got distracted in the moment."
"Sure, if I'm not too beat. I swear, these things are weapons," you say, swinging the heels in your hand. "I had a great night, though, Tae. You made it special. I couldn't have asked for a better date."
"Neither could I," he smiled. It's silent for a moment, save for the sound of crickets chirping in the darkness, or the flies buzzing around the light above your porch. He looks as though he wants to say something, but doesn't. "So... I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah... Sure." He starts to walk back to the car. You open your door, ready to head in. You're halfway in when you just get a sudden impulse, turning around. "Tae?"
"Yeah?" He turns around quickly, as though just waiting for you to call out for him.
You run towards him at that moment, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him. He kisses you back, pulling you in closer, his arms wrapped around you. It feels right. It doesn't feel like the awkward first kiss you had. It doesn't feel like the chaste ones you'd share with Seokjin. But it feels like something that was worth waiting for.
You slowly pull apart, staring at each other for a moment, processing it.
"Was that ok?" you question softly.
"More than ok," he responds. "I was waiting for you to do that."
"Try waiting ten years," you chuckle.
"Six," he corrects. "Jimin's birthday party, remember?"
"How could I forget," you say, shaking your head. You kiss him again, trying to remember the feeling of his lips against yours, trying to make sure it's real. "Do you still want me, Taehyung?"
"Yeah. I do," he says. "Do you?"
"I never stopped," you confessed quietly.
The two of you are quiet for another moment, letting the moment sink in.
You two like each other.
"So what now?" you ask.
"I guess we'll sleep on it. It's been a long night. We can take things one step at a time, ok? Take it slow."
"God, we're moving at the pace of a snail I feel."
"Patience, beautiful," he smiles, giving you one last kiss. "I promise I'll make it worth the wait."
-
Dating Taehyung was sweet. It was passionate. It was him running up to you in the hallway to give you a big hug just because he felt like it. It was buying those blow-pops he liked so much just to surprise him in the morning before school. It was paper airplanes flying into your window as you tried to study, with stupid things such as You look so cute right now to Your ass looks so sexy in that batman underwear.
The last moments of your high school career were ending on the highest notes, where even as your graduation cap reached the highest it could go, Taehyung had pressed a kiss against your lips, only to break free once the caps proceeded to pelt you.
You wondered if it was going to stay like this. Were you guys just in the honeymoon phase, or was it because the journey of high school was over, and the adventure of college was set to begin? The months spent between the two would be with Taehyung, and though you were both going to the same college, you wondered if things would change.
You hoped they didn't. But hey, everything had changed between you and Taehyung, at least 20 times in the course of your friendship with him. At this point, you two could survive anything.
You wanted to preserve one last memory of this time period with him, the last moments of high school Taehyung before you two entered college. Before you two entered the next stage of your relationship.
"Why haven't we had sex yet?"
The question had Taehyung choking on the cherry limeade he got from the drive-in. It was the dead of night, and Taehyung, the insomniac he was, insisted that you two get drinks before the clock struck midnight and sit on your roof.
"I don't know, I can't say I haven't thought about it..."
"I know that. I've heard you jack off before."
"What?!"
"I'm your best-friend-now-girlfriend, Taehyung. At this point, we should be too close to be in a relationship." You smirk, nudging him with your shoulder. "Luckily though, we're not."
"I guess I just didn't want to pressure you or anything. Things are going good between us without sex."
"They are," you admit, "but I think I want to take our relationship to the next level. We're adults anyway- have been before we even started dating. Being the horny teens we are, shouldn't we be jumping each other's bones by now?"
"I want to, most definitely."
"Good to know you're at least sexually attracted to me," you laugh. "I know you and Ryujin have done it though. Wait, sorry, is it ok for me to bring her up? Especially when we're talking about this?"
"Sure, but I'm not going to go into detail about it. That would just seem like an invasion of privacy on her part," he says. "I'm not a virgin, though. But... have you and Seokjin?"
"Yeah," you shrug. "Sorry I didn't tell you before."
Taehyung whistled. "It's cool- but to be honest I didn't expect it. Seokjin just seemed too... proper?"
You shrug again. "Yeah, you'd think so. But he was a horny teenager like the rest of us. And after years of sexual frustration regarding you, I had to let it out on someone."
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "So sorry to put that burden on you."
"You should be," you say, flicking his forehead.
"So did you?"
"What?"
"Cum?"
"Now look who wants to go into detail! How vulgar." You think about it. "Yeah, I did. It wasn't like mind-blowing or anything, I could accomplish the same thing with the vibrator Yuna got me. Seokjin wasn't into anything wild, but the sex was good. Vanilla, but good."
"You don't like vanilla then?"
"I'm not into anything wild- I've never tried anything like that out before. And no offense, Tae, but I don't think I want our first time to be with me tied up."
"Who said you'd be the one tied up?"
"Touche. I don't know, Seokjin was always just... very gentle. Do you remember how we used to wrestle when we were little? Not like slamming each other into the ground like MMA fighters but that sort of play fighting?"
"Yeah?"
"That's closer to what I wanted."
"So you're into manhandling."
"I guess. I like it when a guy is assertive with what he wants. That's what I liked about Seokjin. It was no bullshit, he was upfront with me in the beginning. I just wish he pinned me down a little more."
"You're saying you want me to pin you down?"
"Not on the roof, pervert! Roll-off of me. I swear we're going to fall two stories if you keep up with that," you laugh, lightly shoving him away from you. "What about you? Anything you liked?"
"Oh you know, being called master, having a sex slave-"
"Be fucking serious for once."
"Ok ok, I guess if we're being serious about what I'd like us to do..." Taehyung thought about it for a moment. "I... This is embarrassing."
"What? Tell me."
"You're going to think I'm weird."
"I already think you're weird."
"Good point." He looks down, his bangs covering his face. "I'vegotathingforhickies."
"Good luck trying to mumble, I've basically learned how to read your thoughts at this point," you chuckle. "So, hickies, huh? That's not wild, though."
"Yeah, but Ryujin didn't like them because they'd always show up with her revealing clothing, not that I complained about that part, and she kind of sucked at giving them. I always thought it was kind of hot, though."
"Because it's like marking someone and showing off that they're yours or that you had sex or that sort of stuff?" you question. "Are you into like, claiming your territory? Or do you just like seeing a girl marked up and knowing you did that?"
"Fuck, shut up, you'll give me a semi."
You laugh at that, "Whatever. I'd blow you but we're on the roof, and knowing you you'd definitely fall off. Besides, you may be into marking your territory, but I wouldn't want some random passenger seeing what's mine."
"Shut up," he hissed, pulling you in by the back of your neck to kiss you.
You hum, kissing him back, smirking. "I'm better at this dirty talk then I thought. I already have you riled up."
"If you don't shut up and kiss me again you'll actually have to blow me on the roof. Can't talk with your mouth full."
"Sure thing, Master."
-
"Why does this kind of feel like one of those best friend challenges where you see each other naked for the first time to be closer?"
"I'm literally hard because I can see your boobs I think that oversteps a best friend challenge."
"Wow, so romantic," you chuckle, eyeing Taehyung's naked form. Both of your parents were out on a double date, leaving you and Taehyung to finally do the dirty in his bedroom. Taehyung looked good naked. You've seen him shirtless countless times, and no matter how many times you'd tell him he was lying about his dick size, he was right to boast about it.
Taehyung kisses you tentatively, as though you're fragile. You try not to think about it, but it does sort of remind you of Seokjin. As though reading your thoughts, however, Taehyung begins to snake his tongue into your mouth, hands searching for yours before capturing your wrists. He pins you forcefully to the mattress, your back bouncing with the springs as he straddles your thighs, leaving you immobile beneath him.  You can't move your hands, which are pinned to the sides of your face, and you feel your face heat up with excitement.
Taehyung begins to kiss down your neck, voice breathy. "Didn't want it gentle... did you?"
"Fuck," you say, arching your back to display your chest as an offering, craning your neck as though to expose the blank canvas. "Mark me."
Taehyung's eyes seem to darken at that, and he wastes no time, sucking harshly at whatever skin was offered to him. Purple and pink bruises began to form along your neck and chest. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters into your skin. "Perfect and mine."
You squirm beneath him. "Taehyung, don't you want me to mark you too?"
"Another time, I feel like I'm going to burst." He finally pulls back to admire his work. "Fuck, you look so good. I want to take a picture and make this my home screen."
"No way. What if someone looks through your phone and sees that?"
"They'd see what a sexy ass girlfriend I have," Taehyung grins. "I'd probably jack off to it nightly."
"Why would you need to masturbate when you have a girlfriend to have sex with?"
"We aren't having sex yet."
"Well fucking stick it in then!"
"I gotta make sure you're wet, baby," Taehyung huffs, finally letting go of your wrists and getting off of you to pry your legs apart. You feel your face go red, so vulnerable to him as he sees the most intimate parts of you. He smirks, as though able to see how turned on you were. "You like this, huh? When I manhandle you?"
"S-Shut up and go down on me," you say, looking away.
"Never took you for a top, Y/N," Taehyung chuckles as he begins to descend.
"I don't think that applies to h-hets- fuck, that's nice."
Taehyung begins to envelop your heat with his mouth, tonguing through the folds as he lathers up your juices on his tongue. He groans at the taste, sending vibrations throughout that have your toes curl. He lets his tongue move against your clit, stimulating it with small sucks and licks.
You feel his fingers enter the picture, rubbing at your folds to collect lubrication before a single-digit slides in, curling. Taehyung's fingers are a lot longer than yours, so he misses the g-spot.
"A little lower, yeah, there, perfect. Now curl- oh my God."
Taehyung follows your instructions, curling his finger to press against the rough patch just as you directed him to. You moan a bit more with the stimulus of both his tongue and finger affected the bundle of nerves, and before long a second finger joins the picture, curling into your sweet spot.
"You're so good, Tae, so f-fucking good," you moan. "P-please let me cum."
Taehyung takes that as encouragement, now working with a newfound determination. It isn't long before you feel your orgasm coming over you, and before you can even warn Taehyung your thighs were clamping around his head and you had to bite down on your fist to keep from screaming.
Taehyung pulled back after you calmed down, a cocky grin on his face. "You came the first time I ate you out- damn I'm good."
"S-Shut up," you say. "Fuck, I came hard. That was intense."
"I know. Your thighs make excellent ear muffs."
"Just fuck me already."
"Sure you can handle it? You seem a little worn out already."
"'M fine, just want you to cum too." You spread your legs again. "Get the condom."
"Shit." Taehyung quickly gets up to look through the pants he had discarded on the floor, retrieving one from his wallet. "You know, I got the strawberry flavored one because I know you like that flavor."
"How sweet. I don't plan on blowing you with a condom on, though."
"No, I don't mean that. I just heard from some girls that they don't like blowing their boyfriends after they take the condom off because it tastes gross and like rubber."
"What girls have you been talking to about this?"
"More like soccer moms ranting on their food blogs, but hey, the things you find out when you're trying to make pollo y arroz," Taehyung grins, tearing open the package and rolling the condom onto his length. The head prods your entrance, but he doesn't put it in yet. "Let me know if you need me to slow down, ok? Or anything at all. I'll even let you slap me if you want."
"I'm not slapping you, Tae. Just go slow."
He does so, slowly going inch by inch. You hiss a little, as it had been a while since you had sex, and Taehyung does the same.
"Fuck, you're so tight. I should've fingered you more. Added another finger or something."
"N-No, you're good, just keep going," you encourage. "Fuck me."
Taehyung pulls out slowly before thrusting back in and repeats the motion before going at a moderate pace. It feels good, and your eyes screw shut in concentration.
You were fucking Taehyung. Kim fucking Taehyung. The boy you mooned over all these years, your long time best friend and short-time boyfriend was inside you and fucking you. It felt surreal.
"You feel so good, Taehyung. So fucking good," you say, wrapping your legs around him as he begins to go faster. "Fucking hell. I already came but you're m-making me-"
"I've got you, baby," he says, grabbing some of your hair and pulling it so you'd expose your neck to him. He leaves wet kisses wherever he pleased, mumbling into your skin. "Just lay back and take it, ok? Let me take care of you."
You whimper at that, tightening your legs around him to drive him impossibly deeper into you. "I think I'm gonna cum."
"Gonna cum for me baby?" he pants. His fist tightens in your hair, and he straightens up, hand sliding down to toy with your clit. "Gonna cum a second time for me? Who else can make you like this?"
"You," you moan out. "You, Taehuyng."
"That's my name, don't wear it out."
"Oh my God, I don't know what's bigger, your dick or your ego."
"My dick's pretty huge, as you can tell by now."
"I s-swear if you make me cum to your bullshit, you annoying ass-"
"You're still close though, aren't you? Because of this annoying ass?" Taehyung smirks.
"Y-Yes."
"Go ahead then. Cum."
You feel the band snap, the knot bursting in the pit of your stomach as you cum. You're left a shaking, sweaty mess, and it's all because of your stupid, wonderful best friend who made old people jokes in bed.
"I f-fucking hate you," you groan.
"Still made you cum twice, though," Taehyung grins. "My dick game is just too strong."
"Take off the stupid condom so I can blow you and go to bed."
Taehyung doesn't need much more coercion. He laid down on the bed as you settled between his thighs. He gets the condom off as soon as he can, and without further ado, you put your mouth on him. You envelop the head into your mouth and begin to bob your head, pumping whatever your throat couldn't reach with your mouth. True enough, eh definitely tasted better than the usual rubber of the condom, and the sweet taste of strawberry made you eager for more.
Taehyung was a breathtaking sight, you had to admit. He looked at you with suck adoration in his eyes, his hand buried into your locks as it followed the rhythm and flow of your bobbing head. And whenever his eyes would roll back or he'd mutter a cuss word under his breath, you knew he was putty in your hands.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come."
Before you knew it he was spilling down your throat, hips bucking up into the heat of your mouth as his thighs trembled beneath you. You swallowed all of it down dutifully until every drop was cleaned up.
"Come here," Taehyung says, breathless. You obey, climbing up the bed to his level as he kisses you, wrapping you in his embrace.
"I taste gross," you chuckle.
"Shut up, my cum doesn't taste gross. You taste like strawberries too."
"I was skeptical, but it turned out to be a good investment."
"God, I love you," he says. "And like, really love you. I know it's totally cliche and cheesy to say after sex but I am so fucking in love with you, Y/N."
“You’re only saying that because I swallowed your load,” you chuckle, nuzzling closer into his warm arms. "I am so fucking in love with you too, Taehyung."
"By the way, I forgot to mention to you but that pink lingerie was really cute."
"You barely paid attention to it! And I paid like, fifty bucks on it."
"Sorry if I wanted to see my girlfriend naked!"
4K notes · View notes
btsaudge · a year ago
Video
Taehyung: exists 
BTS: V! (loudly sings his verse from “Jump”)
3K notes · View notes
ppersonna · a year ago
Text
higher - kth | m
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all that matters to me girl, win or lose, is an x-rated complete swirl of me and you. so if you want to see the show, just come with me baby, i will show you how i roll - insurance?, the higher
↳ summary- a chance meeting with a handsome stranger in the airport leads to a very exciting flight.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 3.8k
↳ pairing- taehyung x reader
↳ genre-  smut, pwp, the plot is basically one whole sentence
↳ warnings-  public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk, cum play, unprotected sex (fiction isnt rl life, wrap it up pals), sex in an airport and a plane whoops, sex with stranger
↳ a/n- hi folks! this fic has been in my trash basically because i wasnt sure i liked it too much! but i was convinced by a few friends to post it. i surely hope you enjoy this little to no plot LMFAO.  pls feel free to message, comment, dm me, carrier pigeon, etc etc. i LOVE YOU.
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“Wow, you’re cute,” a voice calls to you through the crowded airport. 
You lower your book down to gaze at where the voice came from, an eyebrow arched in confusion. An airport was an odd place to be hit on. 
The voice came from the man across from you, sitting in the black plastic leather seat of the waiting area for your gate. He waves his hand a little as if to take ownership for the compliment. 
“Oh, uhhh,” you bite your lip. “Thank you?”
He smiles. It’s beautiful.  You’re struck by the gleaming white teeth and boxy smile.
 “Are you heading to Los Angeles too?” He leans forward, wanting to get closer to you. 
You lay your book down on your lap and nod. “Yeah, I am. Visiting.” 
The boy wouldn’t stop grinning. He was ethereal in beauty. Cover of a magazine star quality.  Shaggy brown hair, button nose and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. His voice was a sinful pitch of sexy baritone and his body appeared lithe and toned.  Of all the men to hit on you in a bustling airport, you were glad it was this one. 
“Me too! Meeting my friends there for a long bachelor party week of partying.” 
“Oh, you’re getting married?” You ask. That would make this exchange less invigorating. 
“No! No,” he quickly replies. “My childhood best friend Seokjin is. He wants to go around LA and eat at as many restaurants as he can and then drink until he passes out. His words.”
You stifle a laugh, pleased with the information that the young suitor across from you is at the very least, not engaged. “Sounds like a wild time.” 
He nods in agreement, flashing a cute grin. Your stomach flips. He’s so attractive. You can’t help but eye him down, let your gaze soak in his beauty. He notices and smirks. 
“What seat are you?” He asks.
“Ah,” you squint at the ticket in your lap. “14A. Window seat.” 
He laughs out loud. “No fucking way.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “Why?”
“I’m 14B.”
You join in his laughter.  “Seems like we’re in for an exciting flight.”
He winks at you and you feel your stomach flip in anticipation.  
“I think you’re right,” he agrees.
“I’m Taehyung, by the way. Can’t wait to get to know you better, neighbor.” He drawls, before leaving to stand in line to board the plane.
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The long haul flight starts out simple, conversation flowing between you and Taehyung easily. You discuss your plans for LA, what you hope to see, your friends. He’s a gentleman from the very beginning and asks questions about your life.  He seems genuinely curious about you.  He hands you his phone before the plane takes off, begging to see your Instagram.
You grin as you take the device and tap in your username, showing him the profile that pops up.
“God damn,” he sighs as he scrolls through your images.  Selfies, pictures with friends, your dog, everything.  “You’re really fucking attractive.”
You blush and watch as he presses the ‘follow’ button.  You’re just as eager to get a glimpse at his own profile.  The man looks like he could be a model, you’re sure his pictures do him justice.  Plus, you’re dying to show your friends the hottie who hit on you in the airport.
The flight takes off and you settle in for a long, 15 hour flight with your new companion.  
The chill of the recycled air prickles at your skin, and you’re tugging on the thin airplane blanket as soon as you can.
He coos at you, finding the sight of you cuddled up adorable.   “You’re really cute,” he states again.  “I’m like, ridiculously into you.”
Your cheeks heat. “You’re like, ridiculously confident, you know?”
He offers a wink in reply.
“I’d totally fuck you.” He sighs after a moment, causing you to splutter on your own spit.
“Jesus! We just met!” Your eyes widen in surprise, looking around to ensure no one on the plane heard your conversation.  
“So? What's the difference between meeting at a club or meeting on a plane?  After the club, you still get laid.”
You’re silent for a moment, pondering his words.  Honestly, he’s not wrong.  The only difference is the level of exhibitionism he’s exuding.  
But, the idea of hooking up with the handsome stranger on the flight has you aching in more than one way.
“Here?” You whisper harshly, heart rate elevating quickly.
He laughs for a moment.  “Damn, I meant like in the bathroom or something, but you’ve got a better idea.”
Your cheeks are nearly tomato red in color as he winks at you.  
“You down?” He asks sweetly.
You feel Taehyung’s hand land on your thigh, rubbing at the fabric of your yoga tights. You steal a glance at him and see him staring right back at you, a smirk clear in his perfectly shaped lips. 
“I-...,” it’s hard to talk, let alone breathe.  Taehyung is offering to pleasure you right here in the middle of a crowded plane.  The thought is heady and very persuasive.  “Will you stop if I ask you to?”
Tae’s eyes soften.  “Of course.  You just say the word and I’ll stop.”
His reaction seems genuine and makes your heart flutter in relief.   You worry your bottom lip for just a moment, and then nod your agreement.
“Just keep quiet,” you whisper and his grin is wicked.  
“I’d worry about yourself in that regard.”
You’re suddenly thankful the old man sitting next to Taehyung on the aisle seat is fast asleep, blackout mask covering his eyes and earbuds shoved in his ears. 
Tae’s fingers slide up and down your leg. He sees your blissed out face already and winks. 
Fuck, it’s incredible how quickly he turns you on. His hand on your leg has you absolutely soaking wet. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what else he could do, your body might not handle it. 
His fingers run up higher, towards where your thighs meet. He grazes his touch over your core and you’re sure he can feel your wetness. It feels like your whole body is burning, his touch igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers.  
He leans over to whisper in your ear. “I’m a little cold, mind if I share the blanket?”
You can only nod, the power of speech completely gone now.  You gasp as his fingers maintain an up and down motion along your clothed slit. 
He chuckles and pulls the blanket over himself to join you in the warmth. To any bystander on the plane, you appear as a loved up couple sharing a blanket for a nice nap. In reality, you’re strangers desperate to feel each other. 
“Pull these leggings down for me, baby?” He asks, but it sounds like a demand. You’re so into it you can’t even breathe. You idly obey, lifting your hips slightly to push the leggings down just far enough to not be suspicious. 
He turns his body to rest his head on your shoulder, giving off the illusion of a lovesick boyfriend wanting to cuddle.  
“Fuck,” he moans into your ear. His finger is rubbing along your pussy now, gathering up the slick that has gathered. “So fucking wet for me.”
You swallow thickly and try to bite back the loud moan begging to leave your lips. 
“Do you like that, babe?” He whispers, the breath in your ear making you shiver. “You want me to finger you here on the plane?” 
“P-please,” you croak out. He turns your face towards him and presses his lips against yours.  The kiss is all innocence, as his fingers slide into your core.  He’s the definition of heaven and hell.  You stifle a moan against his lips as you feel him enter you, his fingers curling up as he begins a gentle thrust.  The silver rings on his fingers are cold, and you’re sure they’ll be covered in your slick by the time he’s done with you.  
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans.  “You feel like fucking heaven baby.”
You’re trying to stay quiet, biting your lip and breathing harshly through your nose.  His fingers pick up a pace and you’re desperate, legs spreading to allow him better access.  
“God,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver. “I wish I could kneel down and eat you right now.  I bet you taste so good.” 
He’s filthy, his words becoming more lascivious as he continues fucking into you.  His pace becomes punishing, and you’re sure if someone looked over they could see the rhythmic bounce of the blanket.
“F-fuck,” you manage. He’s curling his fingers just right, and the metal of his rings is cold and slick from the wetness spilling from you.  
“You wanna cum for me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips quickly.  “You wanna cum all over my hand?” 
You’re nodding quickly, trying to keep your eyes open to watch for any sign of being caught, but the thrill is forcing them closed.  
“Yes, please,” you’re begging and trying so hard to maintain your low whisper.  Breathing is even harder now as you feel your body reacting to his powerful fingers thrusting into you.  The coil inside you is so near snapping it nearly hurts.  
“So polite, baby,” he caresses your ear with a lave of his tongue.  “Let go for me, pet.  Let me see you cum on me in the middle of this plane.”
It seems as if you’re programmed to obey, and your body reacts in accord to his demands.  The coil snaps and your cunt is convulsing around his fingers.  Taehyung plasters his lips against yours to muffle your moaning, while coaxing your walls with his fingers to continue pulsing around him.  
It takes a moment to come down, and Tae pulls away from your lips which leaves you breathless. 
“Fuck, you’re the hottest person I’ve literally ever met,” he sighs. “I’d marry you right now if I could.”
You blush as you pant hard, feeling your wetness slip down your core to the leather seat underneath you.  You grimace at the feeling and Tae smirks.  He pops his slick finger into his mouth to clean it, maintaining constant eye contact with you, before he slips it out and presses the call flight attendant button.
Your eyes widen and you’re squirming to make sure the blanket covers you.   Taehyung looks like the picture of professionalism as the elderly attendant comes to your row.
“Hi, my wife spilled her drink.  Could we get some extra napkins?”  
The attendant nods and slips away, leaving you with your blown senses and quivering legs.  She’s back in an instant with a stack of napkins and Taehyung smiles sweetly at you.
“Let me help you, babe,” he grins.  “You’re so clumsy, it’s adorable.”  His hand slips back between your thighs, wiping at the mess he wrought out of you, before his fingers dance on your clit yet again.
The 15 hour flight may be the best and most torturous one yet.
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By the time the plane lands on American soil, you’ve orgasmed 4 times at the hand of Taehyung.  You’ve also managed to give him a ferocious handjob that left some questionable stains on the airline provided blanket, and taken a nap in his embrace.
It’s single-handedly the weirdest flight you’ve ever taken but definitely your favorite. 
Tae walks next to you as you exit the plane, hand in hand.  You don’t know what the fuck is happening but you’re feeling as if you’ve just been crowned queen of England.
“So, my wife,” Taehyung jokes.  He kept the marriage roleplay up the whole flight, even regaling the once-sleeping man next to him with stories of how you met and where you got married.  The whole scenario had you completely flustered and heart fluttering anxiously as he described how beautiful you were on your wedding day. 
“I need to stop at the bathroom.  Would you care to come with and watch my luggage?”  He asks you, eyebrow raising suggestively.  
You’re silent for a moment, but notice his growing smirk.  
“Of course, darling,” you play.  He squeezes your hand in response and drags you to the closest private bathroom he can find.
It’s not big and it’s definitely seen better cleaning, but you don’t care as soon as Tae’s lips cover yours the moment the door closes.  All luggage is dropped and you’re throwing your arms around his neck.  He holds you tight and lifts you up slightly.
“God, I wanted to kiss you like that the whole flight,” he sighs after pulling away.  “I also wanted to fuck your tight little cunt until you can’t walk straight.”
“What’s stopping you, husband?” You tease as you press your hips to his.  
He growls with appreciation as he lunges forward to kiss you again, teeth nipping at your lips and tongue swirling around your mouth.
“That’s my dirty little girl,” he whispers as he tugs the shirt you’re wearing off your body. “Someone loves getting fucked where anyone could walk in.”  
You allow the fabric to fall to the ground, before you’re attaching your lips to his face, kissing and sucking down his neck.  His skin tastes salty and sweet, and you’re desperate to lick every inch. 
“Mmm, my little exhibitionist,” he slaps your ass and the sting elicits a gasp from you.  “I bet your cute pussy is still dripping wet from earlier.”  He pushes you against the cold tile of the wall. “Let me see please?” 
You nod as he kisses your lips one last time, then descends to his knees and pulls your leggings and hopelessly soiled panties with him. You’re sure your core is drenched.  The man made you cum more times in one flight than you had in most of your hookups, and that was from his fingers alone. 
“Shit,” he gasps as you step out of the leggings and expose your drenched folds. “This is the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen. Still so wet from my fingers.” 
He drags a digit through and pops it into his mouth, savoring the taste. You’re whimpering, worried your legs will give out from all blood rushing to your cunt. 
“I dreamed I got to wake you up from our nap by eating you out,” he admits as he pulls your folds apart and licks his lips at the sight of your clit. “I want to wake up between your thighs.” 
Any chance for retort is cut off, throat going dry as he pushes his tongue against your bundle of nerves, already overstimulated from an orgasm-filled flight.  He laps at it, swirling around it vulgarly before dipping lower to fuck his tongue into you. 
“I could fucking drink you.”  
Tae isn’t shy with words, that is a fact you’re now very aware of. He commentates the entire thing, whispering his desires as he fucks his tongue in you and suckles at your clit. 
“Tae, oh god,” you sigh. Your pussy has never been more pleasured in your short life, and in such a short time period. 
“Fuck, I love it when you say my name,” he whispers with a particularly rough lick to the hood of your clit. “I wanna make you cum on my tongue but I need to fuck you before my cock explodes.” 
“Yes, please, need you!” You whine needily and he slurps you one last time before he slips back up to level with you. 
You assist him in undoing his jeans and he whips his stiff cock out. 
“I want to suck you off,” you murmur as you stare at the head dripping with pre-cum. 
“Oh Christ,” he gasps and tilts his head back. “I want that too but I’m so desperate to be inside you, baby. Next time.” He smirks. 
He’s lining himself up, kissing your nose and lips and face as he pushes into you. 
It feels like the culmination of all your desire and passion. You’re finally full of him after 15 hours of his delicious foreplay and nothing has ever felt more satisfying than his push into your drenched channel. He feels as if he slots right into you perfectly, pussy walls molding around him like a puzzle piece you didn’t realize was missing. 
“Holy shit babe,” he groans. “Sweetest little pussy I’ve ever felt.”  His voice sounds dreamy, and his grip on your hips tightens. “Shit, I could get used to this.” 
You’re whimpering with want, desperate to feel his cock thrusting inside you. 
“Need you, Tae. Please fuck me.” 
He’s quick to comply, slowly pulling his length out before slamming it back in, eliciting a loud sob from your lips.  His cock slipping and fucking into you is the best feeling and you feel like you’ve injected the drug that is Tae directly into your veins.  
Taehyung keeps his filthy monologue running as he ruts into you. 
“You feel so good, little one,” he gasps. “So wet and tight for me.”
The tip of his cock bumps against your cervix, jolting you with each thrust. You wish you could take him deeper, so deep he never leaves. 
“Gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he asks as he tugs on your nipple. “Fuck, I want you to cum.” 
His lips move to suck at your neck, and your hands claw harsh red lines down his back. Your insides feel like lava, hot and boiling and ready to burn you down instantly.  
“P-please, so fucking close,” you weep. You’re sure you’ll never get fucked as good as you are right now, never feel as satisfied as you have over the last 15 hours. You’re desperate for everything and you want more, more. 
“Yeah, fuck, cum for me little slut. Let the airport hear you get railed!” 
Your back is arching into him and he picks up the speed and power.  Wet skin slapping on skin echoes around the bathroom like music and your combined sighs and moans are the lyrics to a song only you and Taehyung could create. 
“Oh my god, I’m cumming!” You scream. “Tae! Fuck Tae! Tae!” You chant his name like a prayer, devoting your orgasmic bliss to the deity pounding into you.  He growls ferally, the sweet litany of his name bringing him right to the edge. 
Your cunt pulsates around him, gripping his cock and sucking him in. He shudders a gasp as he feels himself unravel completely by the feel of your completion.  He pulls out quickly and jerks himself to the end, cum splattering all over your stomach and tits.  He whines your name as it lands on your skin, and he wishes he could see this every single day. 
It takes you both a few seconds to breathe again, clinging to each other like long lost lovers. 
Tae smiles down at your cum covered stomach. “Messy.” 
“Seems like your wife isn’t the only clumsy one,” you wink.  You drag your finger through the viscous liquid and lick it into your mouth.  Taehyung groans. 
“Shit you’re gonna get me ready for round 2 and I’ve got a taxi to catch in 5 minutes.” 
He presses against you and kisses you, uncaring about the wetness pressing in between stomachs. 
“That was the best flight I’ve ever taken in my life,” he sighs as you both unlatch and begin the process of dressing again. 
You blush like a cherry and nod. “I only want to fly with that kind of accommodation from now on.” 
He wiggles his eyebrows. “We could make that happen.” 
“Yeah?” You ask as you slip back into your slide sandals. “You want to see me again?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” He hops on one foot to slip his own shoes on. “I’d fucking fly 15 hours again just to be with you.” 
Hope blooms in your chest, thankful that for some reason he seems as interested in continuing as you are.  You press towards him again and kiss him deeply, tongue slipping past his lips to demonstrate your desire. 
“Call me?” You ask. He nods in a daze. 
Your phone is ringing incessantly, reminding you that your best friend is waiting outside the airport and wondering where you are.  You have to leave and you find it hard to say goodbye. 
“Thank you for flying Kim Taehyung airlines,” he jokes as you grab your luggage and open the bathroom door. 
You choke on your laughter and blow a kiss, then push forward and leave behind the gorgeous and confident man of 14B in the bathroom. 
It’s not until an hour later when you settle into your hotel bed that you notice an instagram message. 
vante 12:45 am: let’s meet tonight. let me show you first class 😉
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-2 years later-
The dash from the chapel to the airport is ridiculously quick.  You barely have enough time to change out of your white gown and slip into something comfortable, wave goodbye to the friends and family gathered in your honor, and slide into a taxi towards the international terminals. 
Tae holds your hand with a grin. He’s just as tired as you but you both can’t hold back your excitement, your awe of each other, elated by the events of the day and the thrill of the unknown future. He kisses you deeply during the taxi ride, uncaring about the way the driver eyes you two. Kissing Tae will never get old, you think, and you’re struck by the way he makes you feel each time his lips press to yours. 
His hands linger on your body, then slips to tangle your fingers together, diamond ring slipping against his smooth metal one.  He wants to kiss you more, take you there in the backseat, but you’re pulling up to the terminal before you know it and being tugged out of the backseat with your luggage in tow. 
Check in is a breeze, and you’re suddenly sitting at the waiting area of the gate—nose in a book as Taehyung sits beside you and fiddles with the luggage and boarding passes. 
“Wow, you’re really cute,” he speaks after moments of silence.  He peers at you over the book. 
You lower it to your lap with a sly grin. 
“I think I need to use the bathroom.” He says. The sparkle in his eyes sends shocks through you, as if it’s the first time you’re seeing him again.  “Care to assist me with my luggage?” 
You can’t fight the giggle and blush that polishes your cheeks.  
“Lead the way, husband.” 
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