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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years

Text

It’s Not About Dibs

Ron Speirs x Reader

Oh HELL yes! This is for you @teenmagazines, hope you’re ready for a doozy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Talbert was a smooth son of a bitch, you had to give him that much.

You knew he was a flirt, had known it from the moment you’d met him back in Georgia. Being a nurse meant you were accustomed to feeling the lingering looks of the men you helped, it came with the territory, really. It only made sense- these men saw so few women during these years of vigorous training that the first flash of skirt was bound to catch their attention. It was natural, understandable.

But Floyd? Floyd was absolutely shameless when it came to flirting with you. Where the traumas of war had numbed any sense of charm in most of the men who had initially tried to pursue you, Tab seemed to only grow more determined, bolder in his flirtatious quips.

Normally, you laughed and brushed it off- flirting back for fun before the two of you would inevitably be called back to your positions. It hadn’t ever gone too far, the both of you having some unspoken understanding that it was all done in good fun and that nothing was probably ever going to happen.

Tonight, however, was a different story entirely.

Part of the reason you’d never truly given Floyd a second thought was due to the fact that it was common knowledge that Talbert would flirt with anything with a vagina and a smile, but if you were being completely honest with yourself- you knew it had more to do with your complicated infatuation with a certain Captain from Dog Company.

Ron Speirs was a….problem for you, to say the least.

He was brooding and intimidating and sharp-tongued, yes- but he was also one of the most distractingly handsome men you had ever met. And the bastard knew it, too.

From the moment Meehan had asked him to further your education in hand to hand combat, Ron Speirs had made it clear that he knew exactly how distracting he could be. Between the smug smirks he’d shoot your way and the borderline lewd take-down positions he’d work the two of you into, Ron always made sure to whisper corrections to the shell of your ear in such a way that your breath would catch almost painfully in your throat.

“Can’t leave your side open like that, pretty girl.”

“You’re gonna have to use your hips to twist out of this one.”

“You gonna get yourself into a whole world of trouble if you squirm like that, darlin’.”

It pissed you off, it turned you on.

Under his tutelage, you’d excelled- learning how to break away from an attacker and how to strike to kill and how to use someone’s momentum against them. His praise made you preen and you’d be lying if you said that pinning him underneath didn’t you gave you some sort of proud rush.

A strange, heady familiarity had formed- one that never really went anywhere but still seemed to connect you to each other like an electric current.

After dropping into Normandy, however, his strange charm had turned into a nearly cruel protectiveness.

More often than not you found yourself being pushed aside and dragged away from the men you were trying to treat, overlooked when it came to picking which nurses were to take rotations on the frontlines. The few times you managed to actually get out there and do your fucking job, Ron was hovering so tensely behind you that you found yourself making mistakes or tripping over yourself. And, worst of all, he didn’t even seem to acknowledge you as a woman anymore.

If anything, you were just another mouth to feed.

Another face he had to deal with.

The only time any of that had wavered was in the forests around Foy, when he’d had no say in the fact that you were to be Dog Company's medic.

The fail of firepower and shattering trees was nothing short of spectacular- a symphony of destruction that scared you as much as if amazed you. Never before had you felt the earth around you quake and rattle with such violent power that you truly believed it could crack open and swallow you whole.

And through the entirety of it, Ron Speirs had been there- shielding you from the onslaught of falling shards of timber and shrapnel with every inch of his body, holding your helmet onto your head as he used his body to shelter you from the destruction happening just above your heads.

Any and all of your screams were encouraged into the meat of his chest as he held you so close you wondered if the two of you might fuse together, his grip on you refusing to let you respond to the desperate cries of “medic” until he was absolutely sure that the onslaught had ceased for the time being.

He’d kissed you for the first time during one of these barrages, when you hadn’t screamed at all and simply clung to him as if you feared he’d be torn away from you if you didn’t. Ron had shouted your name through the chaos, and when you’d turned your head to look at him he’d crushed his lips against yours with the same anxious desperation you’d been holding him with- kissing you until your head swam and all you could hear and see and taste and feel was him, him him.

Your lips had been swollen by the time it all became quiet again, your body feeling warmer than it had in weeks and panting up at him like an idiot.

When the scream for a medic rang out, he’d hungrily kissed you once more before sitting back enough to allow you to leave the foxhole, his eyes wild as he nodded for you to go.

“Be careful,” he’d commanded, chest heaving as he looked at you. “Come back when you’re done.”

That had been nearly two weeks ago, and when you had come back he’d acted as if nothing had happened. The next day, when word of relief medics had reached the encampment, he’d sent you away again.

You should’ve known nothing would change, but it still stung.

Which brought you back to Floyd Talbert.

A group of you were sitting around a table while some of the other men played cards nearby, a bottle of some gold liquid being passed around to anyone who wanted some.

Tab, lubed up and feeling confident, was whispering some sweet thing into your ear that you were just tipsy enough to blush at- something about how ‘unfair it was that’ you were so ‘beautiful and smart’ and how sad it was that he hadn’t had the chance to ‘do anything about it’.

“I’m serious, Y/N, it’s goddamn heartbreaking, knowing you’re right here and no one is making you feel as good as you deserve to feel-”

You rolled your eyes, head lolling to the side so you can squint critically at him.

“And how good do I deserve to feel, Floyd? Hm?”

His smile was pure sex, and when he wet his lips with this tongue you couldn’t help but watch with heavy-lidded eyes.

His hand is warm on your thigh, and when he brings his forehead to rest against yours you can taste the alcohol on his breath.

“Oh, Babygirl- there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what I wanna do to you…”

The finger he drags along the seam of your pants between your legs had you inhaling sharply, heat rising to your cheeks as you somehow manage not to jump at the contact.

God, when was the last time anyone had touched you there…?

In your mind’s eye, you get a flash of memory, remembering the time Ron had shown you how to wrestle your thighs around a man’s neck and pin him down.

He’d looked so proud when you’d finally managed to do it, patting your thigh with a mumble of “that’s it, good job”

Just as your lips part to reply, a hand grabs heavily at your shoulder and you’re being pulled up from your seat bodily, snapping out of your carnal daze like you’ve been splashed with a bucket of cold water.

It takes you a moment to realize that Ron is the owner of that hand, and is currently fisting Floyd’s jacket and all but throwing him to the ground.

“Ron!”

You barely hear yourself shout his name over the sound of everyone else in the room shooting to their feet and rushing over, no one stopping the Captain but no one silently watching either.

A wave of protests and cries to take it easy floods the room, and only you are close enough to hear Ron’s venomous accusations being grit out through his teeth.

“Have you lost your goddamned mind, boy? Is this how you engage with a fellow soldier? Getting them drunk and copping a feel, huh?”

Floyd, to his credit, says nothing as Ron hovers over him face blank and hands raised submissively at his sides. What he probably shouldn’t have done, however, was let a smirk curl the corners of his full lips and shoot a wink your way.

Ron all but snarls at that, roughly letting the man go before standing up straight and turning on you.

“Let’s go,” he snaps icily. “You’re done for the night.”

You protest, backing away from him about two steps before he grabs you by the arm and is hauling you through the throng that had assembled around him and Tab and marching towards the door.

“Jesus, Ron! What’s your problem?”

He ignores you, storming the both of you out of the building you had previously been in, across the street, and pulling you behind him into the house he had usurped from a family earlier in the day.

“Ron, you’re hurting my arm, stop it!”

The grip on your bicep softens instantly, his fingers wrapping around your sleeve and dragging you by the fabric instead.

By the time you manage to shake him off, he’s already let you go, having brought the two of you into a room that must have belonged to one of the children who’d been temporarily displaced.

You stumble a few steps before catching your footing, anger flooding your veins with a rage you hadn’t felt in quite a while.

You gape at his back as he closes the door behind him, one of his hands coming up to smooth his dark hair back into place. He’s breathing hard but so are you, and when he doesn’t turn back around to look at you you decide to take matters into your own hands.

He does seem surprised when you grab his arm and yank him around to face you, his piercing eyes going wide for just a moment before becoming cold once again.

“What in the absolute fuck is your problem?!” you screech, smacking his hand when it begins to rise and reach for you. “No, NO! Don’t fucking touch me! What the fuck? What’s the matter with you?”

His glare does nothing to intimidate you, if anything it fuels your anger.

Poking his chest with a hard jab of your finger, you step into him and let him have it.

“You have no right to manhandle me like that, you hear me? You had no right to spoil everyone’s night like that—”

“I’m your commanding officer, Y/L/N,” he spat quietly, batting your hand away with all the attention he would give a pestering fly. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do—!”

“Eugene Roe and Spina are my fucking superiors, Speirs- I’m not one of your soldiers and you don’t get to pick and chose to torment me when you feel like flexing your authority! Not with me, not with any of the medics! Only Winters can do that and you know that—!”

The look he gives you is nothing less than a blaring warning, his jaw ticking with rage.

“Get out of my face, Nurse. You forget who you’re talking to—”

You smirk. “You didn’t seem to mind my face being this close to yours a couple of weeks ago, or was that another power trip on your part?”

“Y/N, I’m warning you—”

“Why? What are you going to do? Send me away again? Get all high and mighty just because Floyd has the balls to like me and fucking do something about it and you don’t?”

His hands snap out and roughly grab your face before smashing his lips to yours so hard your teeth clink together, the kiss cruel and overpowering and so goddamn hot it nearly makes your toes curl.

Your hands shove at him, anger and lust and hurt and sadness all hitting you at once and making your head spin.

“Ron, Ron! HEY!”

You’re able to turn your face from the kiss enough to bark at him, moving to step away only to realize he’s walked you back so you hit a wall softly. Your hands are still fisted in his shirt and his hands have moved from your face to your arms and for a few moments the two of you just stand there gasping for air and openly glaring at each other.

When you finally collect yourself enough to steady your breathing, you let your head fall back against the wall with a dull thud, wetting your lips a few times before you feel like you can actually speak.

“That’s….this isn’t fair. You don’t get to do shit like that—”

“Like what?” he interrupts, taking a step closer to you and hissing when you shove him back.

“That. you don't get to, fucking- fucking treat me like shit and then get all possessive when I’m not even, when we’re not...you don’t get to do that—!”

“He had his fucking hands all over you.” Ron’s voice is steel on stone, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

“I wanted his fucking hands on me.”

Ron frowns at that, and you frown right back.

“You made yourself pretty clear, sending me away like some nuisance after I saved your men when no one else would. If you hate me so much, why’d you kiss me in the first place—?”

He’s shaking his head before you finish speaking, “It had nothing to do with that, I don’t fucking hate you—”

You scoff. “No?”

“No, you stupid girl—”

“Don’t call me stupid, you fucking prick. I’m not the one who results to schoolyard antics when I get a crush on someone—!”

Ron barks a laugh at that. “I don’t have a crush on you.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I left right now and let Floyd Talbert absolutely destroy me tonight?”

He says your name as another warning, and you can’t stop the amused expression that crosses your face as you shake your head.

“Unbelievable. You’re such a child.”

This time he has no reply, but the look he gives you is answer enough.

No, I would definitely mind.

Letting your eyes squeeze shut, you take a deep breath.

“What do you want from me, Ron?”

The hands that had been gripping your forearms falter slightly, and you hear the catch of his breath at the exhaustion in your voice.

When you open your eyes again, you see a look of confusion on his face, as if he doesn’t truly know what he wants either. Like he hadn’t gotten that far in his possessive thinking.

You both stand there for a few moments in silence, your breaths slowing and your fires smoldering into a controllable flame.

You take one of your hands from his chest to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, not realizing that your bun had come loose at some point.

Ron’s eyes follow the movement, and when you go to let your arm hang loosely by your side he takes your wrist and gently brings it back up to rest against his chest. He keeps his touch light enough that you can pull your hand away if you really wanted to.

You don’t.

When you begin to turn your head away Ron says your name again, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it or known it could be.

“Ron,” you reply, too tired to argue any more.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard, and when you meet his gaze you see a flash of anxiety in his eyes.

The same way he’d looked at you before he’d kissed you in the forest.

You take a deep breath. “Not if you’re going to treat me like crap and send me away afterward.”

He studies you for a moment before he nods minutely, eyes flickering down to your lips as he hesitantly takes a step into you again, the hand not holding yours coming up to hold your jaw.

When he kisses you this time it is sweet, his full mouth plush against yours and nothing like the way he’s kissed you before.

He does nothing untoward, allowing you to deepen the kiss in your own time and inhaling sharply once you do.

His hair is soft between your fingers, softer than it had any right to be for someone so rough.

As you tilt your head to the side he just holds you, hands framing your face as if you’re made of glass before he finally breaks away and takes a step back to catch your reaction.

“That was...different.”

He smiles briefly at your response, a warmth in his gaze only serving to make you flush deeper.

“Bad, or—?”

No, no. Not bad,” you rush to say, taking a deep breath before shooting him a nervous smile. “It was...nice.”

“I should’ve kissed you like that the first time.”

You shake your head at that. “No, I mean- I didn’t mind it, uh….before.”

His thumb brushes across your bottom lip you swallow nervously, unused to this sort of softness from him.

“I didn’t send you away because I don't think you’re a good medic. You should- I should have made that clear.... before.”

You nod quietly. “Okay.”

“You’re, you’re really good- one of the best nurses I’ve seen—”

“No need to lay it on so thick, Ron. I already know how good I am.”

When he smirks and looks down he looks like a nervous little boy in front of you, and when his cheeks pinken you let yourself smile.

It’s obvious this is new territory for him, and the fact that he’s even trying means the world to you.

You’re still mad, still embarrassed by how wildly inappropriate his behavior was earlier, but you’re also aware of how difficult these little admissions of remorse must be for someone like him.

How difficult any sort of feelings other than rage and duty has become for all of you.

Although, you doubted he’d express any of these newfound values to anyone else.

“I don’t know how I’m going to break it to Floyd,” you mutter, winking at Ron when his head snaps up and he narrows his eyes. “Boy’s had it bad for me since we were stateside—”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it.” Ron interrupts, raising his eyebrow when you frown at his tone. “Besides, I outrank him. He wouldn’t disobey a direct order.”

You scoff at that. “I don’t think you can pull rank when calling ‘dibs’ on a girl, Ron. That’s not how ranks works.”

“Oh no?” he challenges. “Just you watch me.”

Before you can quip something back to him he gives you another long, slow kiss that effectively shuts you up.

“And, just for the record,” he says between kisses. “I don’t call ‘dibs'. If anything, I call finders keepers.”

When you pout he grins wickedly down at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re such a child. I’m not a prize, I’m a catch”

“Damn right you are.”

And he gets right to proving it.

~ ~ ~

WOOHOO HERE IT BY MY LOVELIES I DID A THING AND IT MAY BE CRAP BUT IT’S MY CRAP AND I’M PLEASED WITH IT FOR NOW, OKAY?!

LOVE YOU GUYS AND THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE LATELY, IT MEANS THE WORLD!!!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #beautiful requests are beautiful

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prettyboongi · 4 years

Text

Just Spill It

Reader x Kim Taehyung

2k+ words

Genre: Crack, Fluff

[Note: I’ve been written fic lately because of school and everything. I actually had to work on a huge paper all week and was waiting until I got everything out of the way to write this. And boy, this request was such a doozy lol. The game that everyone plays in the story is that “Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts” game on James Corden late night show. And I have to be honest: I’m not a huge fan of talk shows or even Corden’s show for that matter. So I had to watch a bunch of videos the shows clips on YouTube just to understand the game. So yeah, this request was super challenging and I hope I got everything right ^-^}

You were putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cupcakes you’ve spent the past couple of hours baking when you heard the doorbell rang. “Must be them,” you thought to yourself. Checking the time, you saw that it was a little bit past seven in the evening. “A little late but, with them, what’s new? ”. You gave your sticky hands a quick rinse and headed towards the door.

Tonight was a very sacred night for you and the boys: the coveted Game Night. Always organized by you and thrown at your place, Game Night for you guys were legendary. Starting off with a harmless game, again of your choosing, the night would always end with someone throwing a temper tantrum, crying dramatically, yelling match between two or more of the boys or someone having to act out a degrading yet hilarious penalty for losing. Sure it was complete chaos but it was also tons of fun. There was never a dull moment with these nerds and you really cherished the time you had with them. With recording sessions, promoting albums and projects in between, it was very hard to find time to hang out. While you understand their obligations to BTS, it still makes you feel lonely most of the time. That’s why Game Night was super important to you and, knowing how important it was for you, the boys always left the planning to you.

You opened the door to an assortment of greetings, one more zany than the last. “Hey guys,” you welcomed, “come on in”. As the boys spilled in, you had to remind them about being a little less rowdy, the last Game Night being interrupted by your neighbors filing a noise complaint. “I’d rather not have the cops being called to my place again.”

“Well we wouldn’t have had the police called on us if Jin hyung didn't have that huge freak out,” Jungkook says teasingly.

“Well,” Jin responds with a fake smile, trying to hide his annoyance, “I wouldn’t have freaked out if Yoongi here wasn’t cheating!” He gestures to a totally unbothered Yoongi already relaxing on the sofa.

Stifling your laughter, you walked over to the kitchen to check on sweets you were finishing up. There you found Taehyung chowing down on the cupcakes. Seeing that he already had eaten three of the dozen you’ve made, you derided him, “Tae! Stop being a pig and save the rest for the others.”

He swallowed a mouth full of cupcake and smiled cheekily. “Come on, Y/N, you know that these are my favorite. You obviously made them for me.” He pointed to the thin strawberry slices you placed on top.

You opened your mouth in protest but stopped immediately. Yes, you knew chocolate cupcakes were his favorite. Especially with strawberries. And yes you made them with him in mind. But no way were you going to give him the satisfaction.

He eyes you impishly, as if he won this conversation. You took the cupcake tray from his reach and said to him sternly, “just wait until everyone had at least one, then you can eat the leftovers. Deal?”

“Deal”

Walking over to the living room area with Taehyung trailing behind you, you placed the tray of cupcakes next to the fried chicken Namjoon had brought over. You saw that everyone was helping themselves to heaping amounts of the crispy, savory chicken. “Please try not to fill up too much food tonight,” you warned them, “you guys will need to leave some room for what we’re playing tonight.”

“Oh, what do you have planned for us tonight?”, asked Namjoon before taking a huge bite of his food.

Before you could answer, Hoseok interjects, “Oooh! Let me guess. Striped poker?”

“No Hoseok,” you flatly answered, shutting him down.

“Strip Monopoly?” Jimin adds.

“No guys, no one is taking their clothes off. Especially not after that one Game Night,” you said rather dimly. The boys shuddered as they remembered that ill-fated night, a story left for another time. “But yeah, I got this idea from a night talk show that I found myself watching one night. The host was playing this game with their guest where they had both get to ask each other some pretty invasive questions. But if either of them chooses not to answer the question they were given, they had to eat or drink something gross that the other person picked out for them. I thought it was pretty funny and we could all try it.” Despite being excited yourself, you couldn’t help but notice an array of mixed emotions.

“I dunno, Y/N, it sounds kinda...sketchy”, Namjoon says.

“I mean yeah, but that’s kinda the point. Come on, you have to admit it's pretty interesting.”

“To be perfect honest, this game sounds fucking awful,” Yoongi opens, “but hey, what the hell. Let's how it goes.”

You ushered the guys to the balcony, where it was decorated with glowing string lights and a new set of furniture bought for this occasion. You presented the boys to a medium size table, topped with what was assumed plates covered with linen napkins.

“Here’s what we’re dealing with tonight, gentlemen,” you announced rather theatrically. One by one, you lifted up each napkin, revealing a collection of foods you knew that would churn some stomachs: fried octopus, super spicy cinnamon candies, 100% cacao chocolate, mint creme Oreos, a spinach milkshake, ambrosia salad and a fluffernutter sandwich. The boys examined each dish, some already nauseated by the sight of certain dishes. “I didn’t want to go too far like the show did,” you explained, “just took some ideas from friends back home and food I know some of you already hate.”

“Are there any winners in this game?,” Jimin asks cautiously

“No, there aren’t. Okay everyone have a seat!” After everyone had taken a seat, you went over how the game works again. “Oh, I forgot to add that you guys don’t have to necessarily finish the food. Under the table, there’s a few little trash bins you can spit into. But come on, I’m going easy on you guys, you shouldn’t need to spit anything out.”

“You call a spinach milkshake ‘going easy’ on us?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t be a baby,” you gave Jungkook a mocking look while sitting yourself between Jin and Yoongi. “So here’s how we’re gonna take turns. We’ll start with me, then we’ll go clockwise ending with Yoongi. Is that good?” Murmurs of agreement answered your question. “Okay, for my turn I pick… Namjoon!” The sound of hearing his name startles him, causing his body to go rigid. “If you don’t answer my question, you’d have to eat the fried octopus.

“Ha, bring it then” Namjoon says, trying to feign as much confidence that he can.

“Alright,” you paused for a moment, “If you choose a Disney character to make out with, who would it be?”

“Oh that’s easy. Undoubtedly, Miss Potts,” he says matter of factly. The table goes silent, weirded out by such a choice.

“From Beauty and the Beast?”, you asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” asks Hoseok.

“Well, she’s a cool character. She has a warm personality and she seems like a great mom to Chip. Who wouldn’t pick her?”

Somehow that leaves even more questions than answers any. “Okay…,” you respond, still a bit perturbed, “Jin’s turn.”

Jin looks around the table to find his perfect target and finds it in none other than Jimin. “Jimin, I pick the mint Oreos for you if you don’t answer my question.” Jimin puts on a brave face but it’s obvious the anticipation is killing him inside. “There was one time during that afterparty a while ago when I saw you and Seulgi running off somewhere. You told me you two were just chatting but what were you two really up to?,” He asked with a mischievous smirk on his face. Ooooohs” echoed around the table as we waited for Jimin’s answer. With a stony smile plastered on his face, Jimin stares at Jin for a moment before reaching out for an Oreo. He takes a huge bite of the minty cookie while keeping his stare at Jin, ultimately gagging on it and having to spit out the whole thing. The whole table erupts in laughter as you said, “We’re off to a good start.”

As the night went by, the game carried on without any issues. Among the highlights was Hoseok revealing his biggest (and not surprising) kink and watching Jungkook down an entire spinach milkshake. Seeing how much fun the gang were having, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for pulling off yet another successful Game Night. The game was nearing its end when the last turn went to Yoongi. And since you were the only one that hasn’t been asked a question, it was obvious this one was going to be directed towards me.

Yoongi turns to you, “The ambrosia salad for this simple question.” You nodded in agreement, not knowing what he meant by “simple”. “Are you in love with Taehyung?”

All around, everyone pauses at Yoongi’s question. Especially you, whose mind goes blank for a moment before speaking up. “What? What’re you talking about? What kind of question is that?” You tried laughing it off.

“A simple one,” he answers. “Are you in love Taehyung?”

“Of course, I love him. He’s like my best friend-”

“I mean, we all know that but are you IN love with him?” Namjoon interjects.

You look around the entire table, leaning in to hear your answer. Your eyes eventually land on Taehyung sitting across from you. He’s clearly embarrassed yet interested in hearing your answer as well. You felt your face burning up as well as your heartbeat quickening from all of this unwanted attention.. You could’ve taken the easy way out and lied, you were sure of the guys were lying when answering their questions. But you couldn’t. One, for the integrity of Game Night and second, you would have to answer yes. For the longest time, you never wanted to admit to yourself but you were in love with Taehyung. Madly in love with him. You loved the banter the two of you developed over the years. You loved how he would annoy you and then make it up by being extremely adorable. You love how he was the only man that ever made you feel special. Without any doubt, you were in love with him. However, you weren’t about to reveal it in front of the boys while playing this dumb game.

After much anticipation, you deeply sighed and ate a huge spoonful of the slightly warm ambrosia salad. You tried your best to swallow it but the conflicting textures of creamy base and the coconut flakes was too much for you. Feeling that you were about to barf, you quickly got up and ran back into the apartment. You reached the bathroom (and thankfully the toilet) and regurgitated everything you tried to keep down. You felt some tears forming at the corner of your eyes, not sure if it was from throwing up or the sheer humiliation you’ve just experienced. “Don’t let this get to you, it’s just part of the game,” you told yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes, rinsed your mouth with mouthwash and headed out of the bathroom.

As you were walking back to the balcony, you bumped into Taehyung in the hallway. “Oh…,” was all you could muster to say. There was a brief awkward silence between you two, a rarity in your close relationship. Taehyung looks away as he scratches the back of his head while you kept your head down. “I should’ve known I was going to be hit with a question like that,” you finally opened, “ Yoongi never plays around, doesn't he?.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds, “except for when he’s cheating.”

You both look at each other for a moment before breaking into a light laughter, easing the tension. Once you were done giggling, you caught Taehyung staring at you with his gorgeous, sharp eyes. The look in his eyes were filled with sincere and the kind of intimacy only two best friends shared. Or maybe there was something more to that look.

"Tae-," you started but stopped when Taehyung put his hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N" he says to you.

Earlier when Jimin asked if there were any winners in the game, it turned out there were two that night.

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