#and then I wonder why I can’t sleep 🫠🫠🙄🙄 lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kookstempo · 2 years ago

Text

sooo… better late than never? 🙇🏻‍♀️

You groan, pulling the pillow back over your head. “I don’t want to like him this much. I don’t want to like anyone this much.”

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

“Maybe he wasn’t really sure how into it you were,” you guess, connecting the dots of the conversation. “Maybe he felt like he was way more in it than you were?”

is she dropping hints too 👀

She shrugs glumly. “It’s definitely a possibility. I might never know unless I talk to him about it. But I think… my advice is, don’t do that to Taehyung. If you’re in it, be in it. If you’re not, then let him know.”

flfkrlrldisiskd truer words have never been spoken

She shakes her head. “It feels too late. It feels way too late.”

Bridget turns in her orange plastic chair, eyes comically wide. “Oh my gosh,” she says. “You fucked him.”

bE DISCREET FFS SKFKDKDKSKQLAKFJSJA

You laugh, agreeing. “When he turns it on,” you tell her, “whew! His bedroom persona is… woof, it’s intense.”

spoiler: wait for the next ones- iykyk

You shrug, positive that your face is bright red. “I mean… I don’t know, Bridg, I can’t talk about stuff like this! I get embarrassed!”

u do become embarrassed sjfjdjdkd

You hum quietly as you open your own assignment - at this point, while he’s typing, there’s not much you can do to help him. But it’s still nice to sit and work, together.

is what i think is going to happen going to happen? (lol what a tongue twister)

“Just thinking about Saturday night,” he admits, eyes flicking to you and then back to his screen.

💻!!!!!!!!!!

[…] but then a DM pops up on your screen in your notifications - of course, from him.

hmmmm 😏

Taehyung: thinking about next time too… 🤔

so sneaky

Taehyung: next time… lotta stuff i didn’t get to do yet

🧐🧐🧐🧐

Taehyung: also REALLY want to feel your mouth…

i’m choking (on air sadly)

You’ve been stalling because you don’t want to have to explain to your mother why you’re staying an extra night, or where… but it’s uncomfortable, not insurmountable.

🍆 appointment

[7:29 PM] Nina💕: heard u’ve been smooching that guy all over campus

yeah, jealous? 🙄🙄🙄🙄

[7:56 PM] Nina💕: anyway just wondering why u haven’t told me aaaaaaaaanything about him… 🤔

guess who fell asleep in the middle of the review. it’s 05:11, let’s go lol

You have to stop that shit. Taehyung isn’t Davis. Taehyung isn’t dishonest. Taehyung isn’t shady.

yes, stop

“Seriously,” he says, eyes glinting playfully. “I’ll stay until you’re done.”

🥺🥺🥺💚

[…] letting Bridget have her wicked way with your hair and make-up before the party starts.

hmMmMmM 👀

[6:59 PM] You: awwww dont beg im right here 🙂

😏

He takes a swig of his beer, watching you over the top of the bottle. “Kiko’s upset,” he says, as if he’s clarifying a math problem.

slap some sense into him

You laugh. You hadn’t even thought about it like that. “No,” you tell her. “I like that we can do our own things and find each other later. It makes me feel like neither of us is, like… clingy.”

I. LOVE. THAT.

Here we go, you think. Everything about him makes you bored.

Behind the guy, Taehyung snorts.

ajfkekwofitmeos i can’t

Amused and… something you can’t name.

gut rearrangement time ⏰

Taehyung only calls you baby when he wants you.

“I’m not above begging. You look so good tonight, and it is - this might be problematic of me somehow - weirdly hot to see you being mean to other guys when you’re nice to me, and -.”

👀 thoughts are being thought

With his free hand he smoothes back a strand he missed, his hand grazing almost lovingly over the top of your head. Then, he gives the ponytail a sharp tug.

whY OMGG

it’s 5:34 i need a break sowwy (sleeping time)

“Not yet,” you say, “but I have a feeling I will be in a second.”

definitely

“Ow, hey,” you whisper, tapping Taehyung’s shoulder like you’re tapping out of a wrestling match. “Put me down for two seconds, I have to take these fucking shoes off, my leg is cramping because my toes are practically pointed.”

ADJKDIFIF i love this “being realistic” part

“I made some promises the other day, too,” he reminds you, hooks his hands under your knees, and pulls you to the edge of the bed.

jesus christ

He lays on his back and tugs cutely - insistently - on your arm until you climb up over top of him, your legs still feeling like jelly.

i nEED A MINUTE OK

Then he hooks one arm over your back, locking you in close to him, and starts bucking into you wildly.

🫠🫠🫠🐕

This makes you laugh, breathy and quiet. “After what we just did? I don’t care if I never speak to another man again.”

slfkrksikfkdksjs honestly? yes

“You aren’t allowed to open it yet,” he tells you. “But I wanted to remember to give it to you now so you can bring it home for Christmas.”

domesticity 🥲🥲🥲

Chapter 10: Encouraging || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary: This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

In which you deal with the aftermath of sleeping with Taehyung.

Chapter Warnings: language, dirty talk via texting/messaging, kissing, explicit sex including: oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex with bc (this is fiction - your life is not. be safe pls), fingering, penetrative sex

Word Count: 7k

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 10: Encouraging

Sunday, December 16th

When you return to the dorm on Sunday morning, only Kiko is home. You drop your bags - the overnight stuff you packed for Taehyung, and the little bag with your mug that he bought you, gently on the floor by your bed and climb on it, laying face down and hiding your face in your pillow.

“Everything okay?” Kiko asks cautiously.

“I slept with Taehyung,” you tell your mattress.

She actually gasps - very unlike her - and scrambles across her bed, coming to plop down by you.

“Are you okay?” she asks, probably because you’re currently trying to hide under your pillows. “Are you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” you tell her.

In all honesty, you are, just a little; if upset isn’t right, then you’re at least uneasy.

She pokes you with her toes. “What did you tell me yesterday?”

You pick up your face to scowl at her. “That people can’t guess what you’re feeling.”

She raises her eyebrows at you, as if to say well?

You groan, pulling the pillow back over your head. “I don’t want to like him this much. I don’t want to like anyone this much.”

Kiko doesn’t say anything, and you remove the pillow again to look at her.

“What?” you say.

She avoids your gaze, eyes on the floor. “I’m just… it’s weird. I’ve thought a lot about what you and Bridg said last night. I think if you and I had this conversation yesterday, I would have told you to… I don’t know - to be careful, I guess. To guard your heart.”

She lapses into silence, so you prod, “And now?”

She sighs. “And now I think maybe I was wrong? I’m wondering if… part of why Yoongi got spooked and bailed - if that’s really what happened, and I’m not completely convinced - maybe part of why is because he didn’t know how I felt?”

You roll over so you can look at her better. “Did you know how he felt?”

She flops backwards on your bed, her legs hanging over the edge to the floor. “I mean… not explicitly? I thought we were on the same page? We were both into it, but being cautious?”

“Maybe he wasn’t really sure how into it you were,” you guess, connecting the dots of the conversation. “Maybe he felt like he was way more in it than you were?”

You don’t know what to say to this. You know there’s truth to Kiko’s words - of course there is, of course she’s right.

But Kiko’s never walked in on the person she loves the most in the world in bed with some other girl, never had to sit through his explanations that all boiled down to you weren’t worth loving, after all, never had to build up her own self-worth again after having it burned to rubble.

You rise, desperately wanting a hot shower. Before you disappear into the bathroom, you turn to look at Kiko, who is still perched on the edge of your bed, her chin in her hands.

“Kiks?” you say. “Maybe it isn’t too late to tell him. You know?”

She shakes her head. “It feels too late. It feels way too late.”

Monday, December 17th

When you return to the dorm Monday afternoon, after finishing your last class and grabbing some lunch, Bridget is shoving laundry into a mesh bag.

“Oh,” you say. “Can I go with you? I need to do laundry, like, a week ago.”

“Yay!” she says, brightening up. “I hate sitting there by myself. The wifi is so bad in there, I can’t even watch a show while I wait.”

You pack up all the dirty clothes you’ve been shoving into your hamper into a more mobile bag, like Bridget’s. You end up with some overflow, filling a little bit of a second bag, too.

The two of you trek down to her car, bags on your backs like you’re pack mules. Bridget blasts the heat and some music and drives you into town, to the least-sketchy laundromat.

Luckily, since it’s the middle of a workday for most people, most of the machines are available. You fish out your quarters and start a load of dark colors in one machine and your whites in the next. Besides you, Bridget throws all of your towels - her, yours, and Kiko’s - into a machine. Once everything is running, you make your way over to the row of plastic chairs, ready to wait. You wish you’d had the forethought to grab a coffee to-go before coming here, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You bet if you texted Taehyung, he’d drive you one. But you won’t do that.

You glance around to make sure no one else is close enough to listen in on your conversation, and then you say quietly, “So, I have an update on the Taehyung front.”

Bridget turns in her orange plastic chair, eyes comically wide. “Oh my gosh,” she says. “You fucked him.”

“Bridget!” you scold, looking around again. “Lower your voice!”

She squeals quietly, making tiny little fists and waving them in excitement. “How was it? Please, please Y/N, tell me everything!”

“It was the night he took me to the Christmas thing,” you tell her, and she mimes squealing again, eyes closed in delight. “We had a really nice time there and after -.”

“No,” she interrupts. “Don’t jump to after. Tell me about the date!”

You smile shyly. It’s nice that she’s interested; you feel bad talking about the gooey details to Kiko while she’s heartsick, and Nina doesn’t even know that Taehyung took you out. You have no idea how to tell her, how to give her the whole story succinctly without cheapening it. You don’t know how she’ll react, either, and so you’ve just kept it to yourself.

“Well,” you say, trying to remember the order of events, “we went through the park, looked at all the lights, then did some shopping at the stalls. He bought me that blue mug that’s on my desk right now. He got one too.”

“Matching!” Bridget cries, as if this is the best thing she’s ever heard. “So cute, I’ll die. Keep going. Then what?”

Her attitude is contagious, and you feel a blush on your cheeks as you recount how you’d danced together to the jazz covers, how you’d made out on the bridge in the dark.

“Hotttttt,” she comments. “God, you’re the luckiest. He’s so hot. It’s honestly stupid how hot he is.”

You laugh, agreeing. “When he turns it on,” you tell her, “whew! His bedroom persona is… woof, it’s intense.”

“Ugh, I love that for you! So who initiated taking it further?” she prompts.

You blush again. “I think I did,” you admit, chuckling, and she cackles with delight. “I asked him to take me back to the house.”

“Giiiiiiiirl,” she hoots, smacking your knee playfully. “Look at you, I’m so proud.”

You remember saying the same thing to Kiko when she’d admitted to sleeping with Yoongi. It makes you a little sad again.

When you don’t say anything, she leans in, lowering her voice again. “I assume it was mind-blowing?”

You laugh. “I don’t think I appreciate that you’re thinking about it at all,” you tell her, feigning offense.

She rolls her eyes at you. “Well?”

You roll yours right back. “It was good,” you say, suddenly feeling shy about it.

“Just good?” She looks shocked, as if she could never have guessed this outcome.

You shrug, positive that your face is bright red. “I mean… I don’t know, Bridg, I can’t talk about stuff like this! I get embarrassed!”

She laughs. “Okay, well compare to your previous exploits, then.”

Now you blush for a new reason. “It was only Davis, before him.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Bridget says easily, waving a dismissive hand. “So how do they compare?”

You laugh without meaning to. “It’s not a comparison,” you tell her. “It’s not even the same category.”

Bridget swallows another squeal. “I do not ever want to see you crying over that ain’t shit hometown loser ever again,” she tells you. “You leveled up, baby!”

And the thing is, you truly believe that for as long as you’re with Taehyung… you won’t.

Wednesday, December 19th

“I know I said it felt weird to be hanging out with you and getting paid for it,” you muse on Wednesday at your hour of tutoring with Taehyung, “but I’ll kind of miss that we had scheduled time together.”

He smiles at you from over the top of his laptop; he hasn’t been very verbose this morning - he’s only got until Friday to finish his Chekhov paper, and he’s just starting to type it up from his notes.

“I know you’ll miss me,” he teases, “but you’ll get through it. I believe in you.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Shut up.”

You hum quietly as you open your own assignment - at this point, while he’s typing, there’s not much you can do to help him. But it’s still nice to sit and work, together.

You notice when he loses focus, when the keys go still, when his gaze wanders over to you.

“What?” you ask, smiling.

“Just thinking about Saturday night,” he admits, eyes flicking to you and then back to his screen.

You bite back a smile. “Well don’t do that, you need your blood in your brain.”

He laughs, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. “It’s difficult,” he says, fighting a smile. “It’s hard to sit here and concentrate when now I know how you sound when you -.”

“Taehyung!”

He smiles, delighted in scandalizing you. “What?”

“People can hear you!” you hiss.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s still fighting the same smile. You think he’s back to work as he starts typing, but then a DM pops up on your screen in your notifications - of course, from him.

Taehyung: can i finish my sentence now?

Taehyung: hard to concentrate when I know now how you sound when you come for me…

Your jaw drops. “Taehyung!” you scold a second time.

He raises his eyebrows innocently. “Yes?”

You bluster, lost for words. “Type your paper!” you instruct, finally. “It’s due on Friday!”

Taehyung: i don’t want to type about Chekhov

Taehyung: i want to type about how fucking good you looked… sounded…. felt 🥵

You shoot him a look over the top of your laptop. “If you stopped flirting with me, you might be able to do something about it later instead of having to write this paper.”

He avoids your gaze, eyes dutifully on his screen. The next message pops up -

Taehyung: thinking about next time too… 🤔

You press your lips together, your sense of responsibility at war with how hot this actually is. Finally, you type back, “next time???”

Across the table from you, a grin blooms across his face. You can feel how pleased he is that you’re playing along.

Taehyung: next time… lotta stuff i didn’t get to do yet

You: oh yeah? like what?

He raises one eyebrow, and you wonder if maybe this game is too dangerous for you. Then, he’s typing.

Taehyung: oh, you know… we didn’t really switch it up much 🤔

You: plenty of time for that

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly through his mouth. You decide that if he wants to play… you’ll play.

You: what else didnt u get to do?

Across the table from you, he lets out a huff of a laugh. “What else,” he murmurs. “Fucking everything.”

You: like what tho

Taehyung: didn’t get the chance to taste you 😏

Taehyung: also REALLY want to feel your mouth…

Taehyung: fuck.

“Problem?” you ask him lightly as he shifts in his chair. He shoots you a dark look, but a second later he’s laughing quietly, like it took him a minute to decide it was funny after all. You decide to throw him a bone - pun intended.

You: i want to do that for you

You: i want to do a lot of things for you… but that’s a good place to start

He actually presses his forehead to the tabletop in defeat. “Okay, we have to stop or I’ll never be able to get up from the table.”

“You started it,” you point out.

“I officially concede,” he tells you, head still on the table. He’s a little breathless, and it makes you want to laugh. “I’ll work on the paper for the rest of the time if you promise you’ll stay over this weekend.”

Campus is closing for Winter Break, and students will be fined for being on campus after 6 pm on Friday evening. The boys are planning an end-of-the-semester party at the house, and Taehyung has been asking you to stay over Friday night and go home to your family on Saturday instead.

You’ve been stalling because you don’t want to have to explain to your mother why you’re staying an extra night, or where… but it’s uncomfortable, not insurmountable. You’re sure you’ll end up in Taehyung’s bed on Friday night, as he wants. As you want.

You smile sweetly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

When your hour is up, he walks you outside. Instead of following you to the stairs to go get lunch, like you usually do on Wednesdays, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He kisses you hard, insistent, and backs off quickly.

“Sorry,” he tells you. “I’m not normally a PDA person. But I just… had to. God. That was fun, but now I feel like I need to skip class and go home.”

You laugh at this. “I guess I’ll forgive you,” you tell him. “Even though again… you started it.”

He keeps your hand in his the whole way up to the cafeteria.

–

[7:29 PM] Nina💕: heard u’ve been smooching that guy all over campus

[7:32 PM] You: ffs 🙄 i’m tired of you only texting me when davis tattles on me for living my fucking life

[7:35 PM] You: he needs to mind his fucking business and leave me alone

[7:36 PM] You: and honestly i cant believe ur fucking encouraging him

[7:37 PM] You: like i’m sorry if ur mad at me now but this is some toxic bullshit. I’m so over this, Nina, i’m serious.

[7:53 PM] Nina💕: damn girl, learn to take a joke.

[7:56 PM] Nina💕: anyway just wondering why u haven’t told me aaaaaaaaanything about him… 🤔

[7:58 PM} You: NINA. u haven’t fucking asked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😵‍💫

[8:00 PM] You: ‘that guy’ like u dont know his fucking name, come on.

Thursday, December 20th

Taehyung doesn’t flirt with you at tutoring on Thursday night - your final tutoring session ever, since he’s passing Western Lit now. Instead, he types like his life depends on it, knowing he won’t be able to work on it on Friday because of the party they’re throwing.

You work as he works - you have a paper due by midnight, and four pages left to fill. You work in companionable silence, both of you pausing every now and then to check your phones for notifications, or close your eyes and just think for a minute, or ruffle through your pages just to take your eyes off the screen for a minute.

Near the end of your hour, you look at Taehyung across the table.

“I don’t want to go home for break,” you tell him. You’re not sure what makes you tell him this - it’s a little vulnerable, a little more honest than you want to be. But you feel like he should know.

He gives you a sad little smile. “It’s only a week.”

“Eight days,” you correct. Part of you feels like this: eight days with you both at your hometowns? Anything could happen.

A part of you wonders if he has girls from home still holding out hope for him, or exes he might run into, or - .

You have to stop that shit. Taehyung isn’t Davis. Taehyung isn’t dishonest. Taehyung isn’t shady.

He’s watching your face carefully, almost like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. You get the feeling that if you weren’t in the middle of the campus library, he’d be pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly.

“We’ll be fine,” he assures you, voice low.

“Yeah,” you say, because… what else would you say? You can’t say maybe, even though you’re thinking it.

“Y/N,” he says seriously, reaching up to close his laptop. “If you’re that worried about it, just come back and stay at the house after Christmas. Then it’s only like four days.”

“I’m not worried,” you say immediately. He makes a face at you.

“The hour’s up,” he says when you don’t answer, since you aren’t packing up like he is.

“I’m staying until I finish,” you tell him. “Have a good night, though.”

He looks at you for a minute, calculating. Then he settles back in his chair and opens his laptop back up.

“Taehyung,” you say, feeling oddly exasperated. “You can go home. It’s fine. I have to finish this, it’s not like I can even sit here and talk to you or anything.”

He shrugs. “That’s fine. I’ll leave when you leave.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. “Seriously.”

“Seriously,” he says, eyes glinting playfully. “I’ll stay until you’re done.”

“Well… thanks, I guess,” you say, feeling a little disgruntled. You start typing again, feeling the frown on your face but unable to adjust your attitude.

After a few minutes, Taehyung reaches across the table, laying his cool fingers on your arm. You stop typing, look up at him. He’s looking at you, face so open.

“Hey,” he says, his voice gentle. “I’ll miss you too.”

Friday, December 21st

Kiko leaves campus after her last Friday class, blaming the long drive back to her parents’ house, but you and Bridget both know she just doesn’t want to go to the guys’ house. You don’t blame her.

You spend the late afternoon packing everything you’ll need at your parents’ house over break into your car, packing a separate bag for staying overnight at Taehyung’s tonight, and letting Bridget have her wicked way with your hair and make-up before the party starts. You have to be off-campus by six, which means you and Bridget will be there hours before the party begins.

You girls arrive in time to get in on ordering dinner, and you join them in the living room with a smorgasbord of cartons and containers. You’re sitting next to Bridget, enjoying your food very much, when your phone buzzes. Taehyung is decidedly not looking at you from the opposite couch, so you suspect him immediately.

[6:52 PM] Taehyung: 👀👀

[6:53 PM] You: lol what???

[6:55 PM] Taehyung: you look…. 🥵

[6:56 PM] You: lolllll thank you 😇 i haven’t even changed into my dress tho!

[6:58 PM] Taehyung: 😫😫😫 pls

[6:59 PM] You: awwww dont beg im right here 🙂

[7:01 PM] Taehyung: come upstairs with me after we eat????

[7:03 PM] You: A for effort but that feels rude

[7:04 PM] You: sorry 😘😘

You and Bridget help the guys set up - you always wondered how Seokjin got the living room couches into the basement for every party. It turns out the trick is to carry them out the front door and around the backyard, going in through the sliding basement door. You help set up the pong tables, the bowls of chips and snacks, and the countertop of liquor bottles and chasers. You honestly feel like you barely see Taehyung during the process. As the music gets turned up downstairs and the first few cars start to park out front, you stick close to Bridget. It feels a little like your first party at the house all over again.

“Okay, I know no one is here yet, but we need to start drinking,” Bridget decides, as you put your overnight bags upstairs.

Down in the kitchen, Bridget starts you out with shots, then you mix drinks to bring with you, red cups full to the brim. In the living room, you find a group of girls you know and like - they’re on your floor in the dorms, and you share a few classes with one of them.

“Oh, my god, did you pass Professor Thompson’s final?” she asks you at the top of her lungs. They must have pregamed before coming over.

You’d gotten a 93, but you don’t need to say so. “Yeah, I passed,” you tell her. “That essay was so out of left field though. Which texts did you use?”

“I did a comparison between Abani and Achebe,” she says, which actually sounds like a really solid thesis to you.

You stay with the girls for the better part of an hour, occasionally looking over your shoulder for Taehyung. You never see him. The girls take over part of the kitchen table, pulling out a deck of cards for a drinking game, so you head that way.

By the time the game ends - most because everyone got too tipsy to keep following the rules - the living room is slam-packed, the way you expect it to be when you party here. You glance at your phone and realize you haven’t even seen Taehyung in over two hours. You refill your cup and decide to remedy this.

You scan the living room, and while it’s possible you just missed him in the thick crowd, you don’t see him. You decide to make your way downstairs. As you open the basement door, someone is on their way up, so you step back to get out of their way.

It’s Yoongi, a beer bottle in hand. He freezes when he recognizes you, and you both just stare for a second.

“Hey,” you say finally, mostly so that later you can feel good that you were the bigger person.

“Hey,” he says, moving over to let you by. You’re about to take your first step down the stairs when he speaks again. “Y/N - did, uh… did Kiko come with you? Is she here?”

“No,” you say. Sober, you would have left it at that and walked away. But there’s a lot of alcohol in your system right now. “I think it makes her sad to come here.”

He blinks at you. “It makes her… sad?” he echoes, one eyebrow popping up.

“Yeah?” you say, hearing the attitude in your tone but unable to reign it in. “Since you ghosted her?”

He takes a swig of his beer, watching you over the top of the bottle. “Kiko’s upset,” he says, as if he’s clarifying a math problem.

“You stopped talking to her out of nowhere,” you point out. “No explanation, no closure. Of course she is.”

You don’t wait for him to answer. You head down the steps. At the bottom, you spot Taehyung almost immediately - he’s at one of the pong tables with Hoseok, Jin, and that guy you met at the bar once, Namjoon.

You find a spot along the wall to stand and watch, sipping at your drink as Taehyung pokes out his tongue in concentration, his elbow bent, orange plastic ball in hand. He makes his shot, coming around the table to chest bump Hoseok in celebration.

As he heads back around the table to his spot, he notices you standing there, doing a full double-take. Once he processes that it’s you, he gives you a giant, boxy grin that takes over his entire face. You smile back, feeling weirdly shy, watching as he lines up to take his turn again. Then, deciding he’s occupied, you turn to go back upstairs; there’s no one to talk to down here except Taehyung, and you’d rather hang out with the girls than stand alone.

When you find Bridget, it’s clear she’s been drinking way more than you tonight. “Hey!” she yells. “Where were you?”

“Looking for Taehyung,” you tell her. “He’s downstairs at the pong tables.”

She frowns. “Are you mad at him?”

You look at her, surprised. “What? Mad about what?”

“For ignoring you tonight,” she says, as if it’s blatantly obvious.

She shakes her head. “We are so different,” she tells you, like you haven’t known this since the day you moved into the dorm together.

You give her a pat on the hand. “I know, Bridg. I know. Do you want to go dance?”

“YES!” she screams, already pulling at your hands.

You dance with Bridget for almost an hour, the dancefloor packed tight with bodies. Every now and then a guy tries to dance with you; you play nice and act friendly, but you always move away, trying to maintain a little bit of a personal bubble. Besides, Bridget’s always more than happy to take the empty space you leave. You think you see Taehyung at the edge of the room, once, but when you look more closely… you’ve lost him.

Eventually, you tire yourself out and head back towards the kitchen, desperate for some water. You grab a fresh cup and help yourself to the ice cubes in the freezer like you would on a non-party night. After filling the cup with tap water, you turn and lean heavily against the cool countertop, eager to rest.

A few guys filter in and you scoot over so they have room in front of the drinks. They mix something that looks fucking disgusting and filter back out into the living room - except for one. He lingers, then leans against the counter next to you.

Here we go, you think. Everything about him makes you bored.

“Hey,” he says. “Having fun?”

You shrug. “About as much fun as any of the parties here.”

He laughs, like that was so extremely witty. You resist an eye roll, but barely. “Do you go to school here?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m in my third year.”

You don’t ask if he goes to school with you, because you do not care.

He tells you anyway. Of course.

“That’s cool,” he drawls. “I’m a senior. Hard to believe I only have one more semester and then I’m off to the real world.”

You hate when people say that. The real world. What’s not real about here, now?

“Congrats,” you tell him dryly, sipping at your water. He laughs again. He shifts so he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, his back to the living room. You don’t love that he’s between you and the exit, but he hasn’t made you feel threatened - yet.

“What’s your major?” he asks.

“Lit,” you say. You decide to play a little game. How many one-syllable responses can you give this guy before he gives up?

“Nice,” he says - clearly he’s playing the game, too! “What do you want to do after graduation?”

“Dunno,” you tell him. Damn, that’s two syllables.

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh, like he can relate so much. “I hear you. I thought I wanted to go into Hospitality, but I did my internship all summer and it really sucked.”

“Wow,” you deadpan.

He shakes his head. “I know. I didn’t realize how much work it would be.”

Behind him, you finally spy Taehyung. He pokes his head into the room, and you think he might have been looking for you. Your eyes catch and he stops, watching the scene before him with amusement.

“Yeah, it’s crazy how you have to work at jobs,” you say very seriously. Behind the guy, Taehyung snorts.

“I know,” the guy says with a laugh. He reaches out a meaty hand and places it on your upper arm. “I’m Marc, what’s your name?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen with unadulterated mirth as he presses his lips together to hold back outright laughter. Oh, it’s funny, is it?

You smile, tilting your head to your side, letting your hair cascade over your left shoulder. “I’m Y/N.”

Taehyung is not smiling now. Ha.

But still, it’s better to end this before it gets messy. “Sorry,” you tell the guy, who removes his hand with a quizzical look, “I just saw someone I wanted to talk to. Have a fun time tonight!”

You stalk straight past Taehyung, who turns on his heel to follow you. He catches your wrist and tugs you back, catching your elbows in his hands when you overbalance a little in your heels.

“What was that?” he asks you, but he doesn’t sound mad - he still sounds amused. Amused and… something you can’t name.

This feels like a game, and you want to play. You hope you know the rules.

“Just an annoying side effect of wearing a dress and heels,” you tell him, a little sass creeping into your tone. “Is there a problem?”

He tugs your wrist again, pulling you an inch closer. You shiver with a thrill; you like possessive Taehyung a little bit.

“The problem, baby,” he says, speaking almost directly into your ear so you can hear him over the music and the crowd, “is that I haven’t been next to you all night. What’s that about?”

“You looked busy,” you say, and you feel like you’re on more solid footing. Now you know what game is being played - Taehyung only calls you baby when he wants you.

He leans close and releases your wrist, instead letting his fingertips trail across the bare skin of your upper thigh, just below the hem of your dress. He smells good - cologne and alcohol and sweat. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake.

“Come upstairs with me?” he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You can’t wait like two more hours for everyone to leave?”

He shakes his head, fingers inching higher, taking the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. He toys with it absently, then says, “I’ve been waiting since you walked through my front door. It’s been like seven hours since then.”

“That’s true,” you agree.

“Please?” he asks, the wry amusement still lingering on his face. He knows he’s being pitiful right now. “I’m not above begging. You look so good tonight, and it is - this might be problematic of me somehow - weirdly hot to see you being mean to other guys when you’re nice to me, and -.”

“I’m not mean,” you interject defensively. “That guy was just an idiot -.”

“And I can’t stop thinking,” Taehyung continues as if you hadn’t interrupted, “about all the stuff we said on Wednesday…” He trails off, looking at you expectantly.

“Alright,” you demure, looking up at him through your lashes. “You convinced me.”

He takes you by surprise with a kiss, his hands still on your elbows from when he steadied you. Then he turns and leads you by the hand up the stairs.

Behind his closed door, the noise of the party falls away. Taehyung kisses you again, fingers still toying with your hem as he pulls you tight against him with the other arm.

“I like this dress on you,” he tells you quietly, lips brushing your ear.

“Poor baby,” you tease, voice full of mock sympathy. “I really did keep you waiting, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he agrees, fingers rubbing the skin of your thigh now.

“It was hard to wait, wasn’t it?” you continue, feeling a little predatory.

“It was,” he says, leaning back to meet your gaze quizzically, as if he’s not sure if this is going to go where he thinks it is.

“I should probably make it up to you somehow,” you pretend to muse. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” he says, entirely breathless just from your teasing. “Yes, you definitely should.”

“Okay,” you say evenly, hands going to his belt as you use your body to move him so his back leans against his closed door. “Then I think I promised you something when we were messaging the other day.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, “you’re so hot right now. What is even happening?”

You smile devilishly, deftly unzipping his dark-washed jeans and tugging them down just far enough to let him spring free. He bounces once on the balls of his feet, a groan of anticipation emitting from his throat. You drop carefully to your knees, taking him in one hand. He hisses at the contact, but watches you through the slits of his eyes.

You give him a few experimental pumps and then take his tip in your mouth, bobbing slowly and using your tongue to slick up each new inch that you take, allowing your lips to slide more easily. You keep one hand loose around his base, tugging lightly as you hollow your cheeks. Taehyung groans for real this time, his head hitting the door behind him with a thunk.

“Yes, baby,” he hisses. He slides his fingers through your hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, which he gathers in one hand. With his free hand he smoothes back a strand he missed, his hand grazing almost lovingly over the top of your head. Then, he gives the ponytail a sharp tug.

You moan around his length, and he sighs happily, closing his eyes for a second. “So good,” he whispers. “God, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you hum. You bob your head a few times and then take it slower, reveling in the cascade of whispered praises and bitten-off moans that fall from his lips.

You try taking him as deep as you can and his hand tightens in your hair to the point that it stings, his other hand scrabbling against the door behind him, trying to find purchase somewhere. He breathes your name and then tugs your head back. You release him with a loud, wet noise, looking to see what the problem is.

He lets go of your hair, letting it fall down your back in messy, tangled waves. Then suddenly, too many things are happening at the same time - it feels like he has six hands. He pulls you to your feet and spins you around so the door is behind you, not him, and he’s backing you against the door at the same time that his hands roughly push your skirt up over your hips. He tugs your panties off in one motion and then he’s reaching between your legs, plunging first one, then another, then both digits into your heat, twisting them immediately.

“Ready?” he breathes, so close to you.

“Get that shirt off,” you pant, trying not to let your knees give out as he strokes a spot inside you that’s making your legs shake. He withdraws his fingers, which makes you whimper at the loss, but he makes quick work of his buttons and tosses his shirt to the side.

“Happy?” he asks you.

“Not yet,” you say, “but I have a feeling I will be in a second.”

He laughs centimeters from your mouth, caught off-guard by your sass on his way to kiss you. Then he reaches back under your ass and lifts you. You squeal in surprise but you’re quick to wrap your arms and legs around him. He shifts so that you’re snug between his body and the door, and then he’s pushing inside you, immediately setting a punishing pace that has you moaning into the crook of his neck.

“Taehyung, ah, Tae -,” you groan, clutching his shoulders to hold yourself up. It feels amazing, it feels so good, but your body betrays you and your left calf cramps up.

He huffs out a breath but slides out of you, taking the opportunity to push his hair back and step out of his own shoes as you unbuckle your heels and kick them to the side. You look at him, ready, but he’s eyeing you, face calculating.

“C’mere,” he says, reaching around to unzip your dress. You step out of it and add your bra to the clothing pile for good measure as Taehyung shimmies out of his slacks and peels off his socks.

“Lay down,” he tells you, nodding towards his bed.

You do as you’re told, but you look at him quizzically.

“I made some promises the other day, too,” he reminds you, hooks his hands under your knees, and pulls you to the edge of the bed.

“Ohmygod,” you sigh as he attaches his mouth to you. It’s official - Taehyung has the hottest mouth on planet Earth. You grip the sheets on either side of you, breathing through your mouth.

“It won’t - take much,” you pant.

“In that case…” he murmurs, reaching to slide a finger, then two, between your slick folds. You moan wordlessly as he curls his fingers in time with his attention to your clit. It takes only minutes before you’re throwing an arm over your forehead, toes curling.

“Ah - Tae - Taehyung -,” you gasp and he releases your clit with a pop, chuckling.

“Already?” he asks incredulously, and you groan with frustration - frustration that he’s teasing you, that his mouth is gone, that the wave of pleasure you were riding is fading.

“Shut up,” you grumble, but he shuts you up by returning to his ministrations and your body picks up right where it left off, your muscles seizing, the flood of tingling, white-hot euphoria blooming in your belly and rushing like ocean waves down your legs and to your toes. You go silent as it builds to the snapping point, letting out a series of broken groans as the wave crashes.

“Baby,” Taehyung growls, extracting his fingers and coming up beside you. He lays on his back and tugs cutely - insistently - on your arm until you climb up over top of him, your legs still feeling like jelly.

He reaches down to position himself at your entrance and slides in, both of you groaning loudly. Then he hooks one arm over your back, locking you in close to him, and starts bucking into you wildly. You bury your face in his neck and try to breathe, each exhale coming out of you like a cry as he races towards his release.

“Y/N,” he says through his teeth. “I’m -.”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence before he’s clutching you tighter, if that’s even possible, his breaths becoming erratic as he gasps and jerks before he goes still.

You want to stay draped over him like this, your hearts beating against each other, his arms locking you in place, his breath in your ear. But Taehyung shifts so you can slip off to the side and rises to find something for you two to clean up with. When you’re done, he plops back on the bed, exhausted, smiling at you through the crook in his arm.

“Do we have to go back out there?” you ask, the bed suddenly seeming heavenly, your eyes heavy.

“You mean,” he says, moving his arm so you can see his whole, sweaty face again, “you don’t want to go talk to the meathead some more?”

This makes you laugh, breathy and quiet. “After what we just did? I don’t care if I never speak to another man again.”

You don’t really think about this before you say it; it’s flippant, you’re mostly kidding, and you hope that Taehyung doesn’t read too much into it.

He reaches for you, pulling you closer now that you’re both cooled off a little. “You like me best,” he teases, smiling.

“You’re okay,” you tease back. “Better than the meathead.”

“Smarter than the meathead,” he says seriously.

“Yes, that’s true,” you tell him, matching his serious tone.

“Cuter than the meathead,” he adds.

“Infinitely,” you agree.

He hums happily, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you close your eyes, relaxing in his embrace.

When you have the energy to move again, you pick through your overnight bag for pajamas. You slip across the hall to change, remove your makeup, and brush your teeth. When you’re back, Taehyung is standing by his desk in just a pair of pajama pants. He looks up as you close the door behind you. There’s a wrapped box on the desk, with gold striped wrapping paper and a red bow on top.

“…What’s that?” you ask suspiciously. He smiles at you, eyes crinkling with mischief. “Is that a present?”

“You aren’t allowed to open it yet,” he tells you. “But I wanted to remember to give it to you now so you can bring it home for Christmas.”

You send him your own mischievous glance, reaching for your overnight bag. You, too, pull out a wrapped gift – this one wrapped with paper adorned with blue snowflakes. “I had a similar idea,” you say. “It’s nothing special, but…”

“Neither is mine,” he says quickly. “I know this is new and a bit… ambiguous -.”

“Ooh, vocab,” you say. He rolls his eyes.

“But anyway,” he continues. “I still wanted to get you something. So… open it on Christmas.”

“Okay,” you tell him with a smile. “I will.”

Thank you so much for being here! I deeply appreciate every single like, reply, dm, ask, or reblog!

Super big thank you to my lil Pauli for being a damn delight 24/7 and also for beta-ing!

#lovely people #darling jo tag #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung x reader

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