word count: 1.7k

recommended listening: drew barrymore - bryce vine, pretty boy - the neighbourhood

premise: you're a bh makeup artist on tour with the boys, and somewhere between the lip balm and laddish banter, you've fallen for tae

pairing: tae x reader

inspiration: a thread on twitter about the boys with their makeup artists lmao, it was so wholesome but i am who i am as a person, and so we're here lol

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"Tae, c'mon," you sighed - though the grin on your face suggested that you weren't all that exasperated by the boy in front of you. "Cut it out. You're on stage in literally a minute."

There was hustle and bustle in the dressing room behind the stage, and fans were screaming loud enough to be heard through the walls. It was the final night that they'd be in this city after a three-day leg, an extra date added on to supply the sheer demand of the fans. They'd blown up quite exponentially over the last year or so, and you'd been blessed to watch them all grow and blossom.

"Cut what out?" he pouted, finally releasing his bottom lip from between his teeth. 

He had been holding it there for a solid five minutes by this point, forcing you to work on other areas of his skin, touching up blemishes, which were basically non-existent.

There was a casual intimacy to the nature of your interactions, but they weren't exclusive to him - you did all of their make-up, and they could all be little shits from time to time.

You went to swipe the make-up brush across his lip, which had become plump from the blood flow his teeth had restricted, only for him to duck out of the way.

"Oh my god," you almost growled. They only had one segment of the show left, but he'd been acting like a child all day.

"You called?" Jin shouted from across the room, earning laughter from the rest of the boys.

"Fine!" You shrugged, directing your attention back to Tae. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but there was a glint in them which suggested that he enjoyed the challenge. "Go on stage looking like a little gremlin. See what I care."

As the rest of the boys began to shuffle out of the dressing room and into their positions on the lifting stage, Tae held back. 

Clasping his chin between your fingers, he finally seemed to still his head. You had been expecting more resistance, but he simply let his lips fall naturally. 

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" You rolled your eyes, though secretly you revelled in your little victory. 

Like a thief in the night, Tae was incredibly good at unapologetically taking things that weren't his.

The first thing he stole from you was your breath, after his sultry tones had purred by your ear;

"Let's not talk about things that are hard."

The second thing he stole was your small makeup brush, which you'd released pressure on in the midst of your shock from his words. Dabbing the excess lip product from the bristles and on to your cheek, you stood there a little frozen just letting him do it.

The third, and final, thing he stole from you was your own lipgloss, as he swiped the brush along your full bottom lip. Bringing the brush to his mouth, he kept his eyes on you as he applied your clear balm to his own pout.

"Strawberry," he noted, pressing his lips together to spread it more evenly. He took longer than he needed to, releasing them back to a natural position slowly. "My favourite."

"V!" The stage manager called from the hallway, causing you to drop your hand from his chin. His eyes flicked to the door, then back down to you. 

"I'll give it back to you later."

"Is that a promise?" You grinned, causing him to suppress a smile, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. 

"V! Now!"

"Coming!" His deep voice bellowed through the room and echoed out into the hallway. "Gotta run. I put my hotel key card in your make-up bag."

You watched him as he walked away, back broad and his strides confident. Part of you was jealous of the fans who would get to see him in his element up on the stage, but then you had to humble yourself a little. You were certain if they knew which element you got to see him in, the envy would have been mutual - but the fans didn't know, and you made damn sure to never leave a trace on him, just in case.

With a sigh, you strode slowly over to your bag, just to check - and sure enough, there was his key card, tucked between some concealer and a packet of cotton buds.

Flicking the lock button of your phone, which had been facing down on a dressing table, you checked the time, calculating just how long you had before Tae would be on his way back to the hotel.

Noticing some message notifications, you swiped through them autonomously, making sure that you hadn't missed anything important. Only one of the threads in your chat inbox piqued your attention, though.

There was an irony to such a formal contact name when he'd been calling you some pretty informal things beneath his sheets as of late.

BTS V (Client, Personal No.): If only he knew where those hands had been last night... x

The message was sent with a picture of you and a smiling Kookie, as you ran a brush through his brows. You couldn't remember what you had been chatting about, but you could see that your cheeks were appled too. Your ass also didn't look half bad from that angle, so you were secretly pleased to see the lense that Tae saw you through.

He'd been getting riskier and riskier with every passing tour date, and you knew he'd get the pair of you caught out soon.

And yet he'd always arrive back at his hotel room to find you under his duvet, television on, engrossed in whatever drama you were catching up on. He'd roll into bed with you, body exhausted from the physical exertion of a show.

Neither one of you could pinpoint exactly when - or where - it had started. One evening you were hanging out after a show for a little bit longer than usual, and then, all of a sudden, the company were wasting money on two hotel rooms when the pair of you only ever needed one. 

You'd become familiar with each other's quirks and routines; you were domesticated together and yet still entirely feral for one another. Soon your skin care routines had become his, and his sleeping patterns had become yours.

It had started as a joke. You would soak cotton pads in cleanser and clean his skin of the make-up that you had applied just a few hours prior.

It was almost like a ritual now. Neither of you would speak, Taehyung would just sit peacefully opposite you while you worked your magic. 

On the odd occasion, like the skilled thief he was, he'd steal the headband holding your hair back, and adopt it into his own tresses. You'd simply smile as he rested the crown of his head in your lap. Cleansing his face from above, you'd watch him tenderly as he drifted into a trance like state. Once you were done, he'd lift his hand to the back of your neck and pull you down into a kiss.

Those were his favourite kind of evenings.

By the time he finally arrived back that night, it was late. Later than usual.

"You've done it for me," you noted with a pout, as he dropped his bag down and kicked off his shoes. He'd barely managed to rid himself of his trousers, desperate to get into bed and rest his tired body. 

"The boys commented on the fact I hadn't taken it off," he mumbled into your neck, pulling you close. "Said I'd break out if I kept forgetting to take the makeup off. Hobi practically scrubbed my face for me."

You laughed, secretly a little bit sad to not indulge in your nightly ritual. "Hobi's taking my place?!"

"No," he grinned against your skin. "Never. You've got a far more gentle touch."

"I thought you liked it a little rough?"

"Shut up."

Bringing his lips to yours, a small kiss lingered. Taehyung never did things by halves - it was all or nothing.  A small kiss could never just stay a small kiss. 

Hungry and deliberate, he pulled you in closer, deeper, and it was almost as if the exhaustion of his muscles didn't matter anymore. You had a way of revitalising him; replenishing his resources. It terrified him. 

He had become dependant on you, and with only a few more dates left of the tour, he wasn't quite sure what he'd do with himself once the time came to let you go.

You'd be working other gigs, and he'd have a busy schedule. It wasn't meant to be forever. You both knew that - but for right now, you would have been happy with 'forever'.

"I'm gonna miss this," he mumbled, playing with your hands, kissing your knuckles one by one. 

"You shouldn't waste time missing something while you still have it," you pressed a kiss into his temple. 

Raising his eyes to meet yours, he couldn't help but acknowledge that you were right. 

"S'pose I better just make the most of it?" he hummed, a grin returning to his face. He ignored the heaviness in his heart for the butterflies in his stomach. 

"I suppose you better."

Sealing your words with a kiss, Kim Taehyung was signed, sealed, delivered, yours. Like a holiday postcard, he'd keep a picture of you up on his pinboard and stare at it for years to come, before filing it into a box of keepsakes of his glory years.

Lost in your lips, his sheets, the base notes of your perfume and the roughness of his stubble that was growing though, Taehyung decided that you were right.

Forever could wait.