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doomgurlfics · 2 days ago

Text

SOMEBODY

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Synopsis: After graduation, you treat yourself to a solo getaway in Hawaii. Just you, the ocean breeze, and zero drama. That is, until a flight seatmate from hell, Taehyung, somehow ends up being your next-door neighbor at the luxury resort. Thanks to a reservation mix-up, your private suite dreams crash and burn, leaving you and Taehyung in separate rooms… with a shared connecting door.

What starts as petty arguments and awkward run-ins quickly escalates into teasing, tension, and heat you can’t ignore. And when the line between enemies and something much more finally snaps? Let’s just say, paradise gets a whole lot hotter.

Pairing: Non Idol Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Language, Eventual Smut, Possible slow uploads

Word Count: 1,615

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Coming Soon)

A/N: Hi beautiful people!🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ This fic is Inspired by Latto’s Somebody cuz the song is on repeat in my head! Hope you guys enjoy!! P.S. it’s been proof read, but loosely so don’t mind the mistake 🫣

Part One

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat with relief. The day had already started off on the wrong foot. Delayed Ubers, mile-long TSA lines, and a barista with a serious attitude problem.

But you made it. You’re on the plane, you’re on time, and thanks to a lucky upgrade, you only have to deal with one seat mate instead of being sandwiched between two.

The final call for passengers echoes through the cabin as you settle into the window seat, adjusting your blanket and neck pillow before setting up your iPad.

You pre-downloaded two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy, which should be more than enough to get you through the flight. No distractions. No drama. Just you, McDreamy, and the clouds.

You’re just popping in your earbuds when something, someone, nudges your arm.

“Ah, sorry, hold this?” a voice says, right before a paper coffee cup is shoved into your hands. You blink up, caught off guard, as a tall guy with dark hair wrestles a duffel bag into the overhead compartment like he’s fighting for his life.

You can’t help but think that this man is fine—as hell.

Wearing a baseball cap, a plain white tee, and gray sweats, he somehow makes casual clothing look like high fashion. The kind of good-looking that feels unfair. Effortless. Dangerous.

And you know what they say about gray sweatpants.

You snap out of it just in time to meet his gaze, and a playful smirk. Heat creeps up your neck. You’ve been caught.

Without thinking, you thrust his drink into his lap as he sinks into his seat. A sharp remark on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to it.

“I was going to apologize for my hasty entrance,” he says, pulling off his cap and running a hand through the black strands that fall neatly around his face. “But you ogling me kind of kills the guilt.”

You scoff. “Please. No one was ogling you. And maybe next time, don’t shove your coffee into someone’s hands like they’re your personal assistant.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the overhead crackles to life with the flight attendants’ safety spiel. You take the opportunity to readjust your headphones and crank up the volume, not even pretending to be polite anymore.

As far as you’re concerned, you’re done. Fully committed to ignoring this cocky asshole for the rest of the flight.

The first three hours pass without another hiccup, and since you flew out of L.A., there’s only about two hours left to go. You stretch your legs and shift slightly, but a dull ache in your lower abdomen makes you wince. Perfect. You need to pee.

You glance to your left and sigh.

Your seatmate is completely passed out, head tilted back against the seat, lips parted slightly. His long legs are stretched out into the aisle, and directly in your path.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath, now you have to wake him up.

“Hey,” you say, nudging his shoulder gently. No response.

“Excuse me, I need to get by,” you try again, a little firmer this time.

Still nothing. He’s knocked out cold, mouth slightly open, lashes too long for someone so irritating.

You stare at him, unamused.

“Come on, this isn’t funny, I really need to get by,” you say louder now, shaking his shoulder roughly.

You sigh shaking your head, who the hell sleeps this deeply on a plain. You can’t be arsed to keep shaking him, so you decide to crawl over him.

If only he wasn’t so massive it would have been your first option. You get up, slowly pivoting in the cramped space. For this to be first class, you weren’t really feeling how little room you had.

Moving slowly, you outstretch your leg over the both of his, gently grabbing the seat in front of you as you attempt to pull your other leg over.

But it seems the universe has other plans.

The plane suddenly jolts with a burst of turbulence, and before you can react, you lose your balance and go crashing straight into his lap.

“Oof!” you grunt as you land, your elbow digging into his chest. A soft wheeze escapes him as he snaps awake, eyes wide in confusion and alarm.

Before you can scramble off, his arms instinctively wrap around you, holding you in place.

It’s protective. Reflexive. But it also completely blocks your escape.

You freeze.

Back to chest. Ass to crotch. You’re feeling way more of a stranger than anyone should on a plain.

“Damn, girl. First you were eyeing me up, now straddling me in my sleep? You don’t even know my name. Whatever happened to a first date?”

You blink, mortified before removing his arms from your waist and scrambling off of his lap. Without a word, you make a beeline for the restroom, refusing to look back as you shut and lock the door behind you.

You grip the tiny sink and stare at your reflection. “Girl… what the fuck is happening right now?” you whisper, laughing under your breath at the absurdity of it all.

How in the hell are you supposed to walk back to your seat after that?

You do your business and linger for as long as possible, but a nock at the door cuts your hideout short, and you have no choice but to exit the bathroom.

The walk back to your seat feels like the walk of shame. You completely avoid eye contact, mumbling “excuse me,” as you sit down in your seat.

You don’t look at him. You refuse to look at him.

But you can feel it. The smugness radiating off of him like heat from the sun.

Less than two hours left, you remind yourself, clinging to the thought like a lifeline. You’re more than ready to land, grab your bags, and part ways with this cocky stranger for good.

The plane ride ends smoothly and you wasted no time getting the hell off. You luckily didn’t have to wait long for your luggage or a taxi, and your ride to the resort went by with no qualms.

Currently, you’re standing in the check-in line at your all-inclusive resort, waiting to grab your room key. The cool air conditioning is a welcome contrast to the humid Hawaiian breeze just outside the glass doors.

You glance around the open-air lobby, taking in the modern island décor, woven textures, tropical greenery, and a view that opens right up to the Pacific.

Despite your hectic morning, you finally feel as if you can relax, more than ready to kick off your solo trip.

After receiving your key, you ride the elevator up to your floor and head down the quiet hallway. When you finally reach your room, you slide the keycard in and step inside.

An open layout greets you, bright and inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in soft, golden light, and the king-size bed looks like something out of a dream, topped with a neat arrangement of sweets and a dolphin-shaped towel that makes you smile.

But it’s the bathroom that really seals the deal. Spacious and sleek, with a deep soaking tub that practically calls your name. You can already picture yourself sinking into it, letting the stress melt away.

Near the sitting area, there’s a door that looks like it leads somewhere, maybe a closet? You’re not sure, and honestly, you don’t have the energy to find out right now.

The only thing on your mind is a long, hot shower, and getting ready for your first night in Hawaii.

Dinner at the resort was delicious. Fresh seafood, tropical flavors, and the kind of indulgence that reminds you why this trip was worth every penny. You’re already looking forward to taking full advantage of all the included meals.

Back in your room, a glass of champagne in hand, courtesy of the lobby bar, you kick off your shoes and finally decide it’s time to unpack.

Halfway through, you start to regret your ambitious packing. You stuff the last few clothing items into the dresser with some effort, then take a step back and eye your suitcase, still taking up too much space.

You glance toward the door near the sitting area, the one you brushed off earlier. You’re hoping the closet is deep enough to fit your suitcase.

You walk over, take a sip of your champagne, and twist the handle open.

A gasp escapes your lips as you take in the sight in front of you.

It’s not a closet at all, but a full suite, identical to yours. For a moment, it looks vacant. Quiet.

You step across the threshold, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Is anyone in here?” you call out, your voice a little unsure as you take a cautious step further into the suite.

For a beat, there’s only silence.

Then a door swings open, and you’re instantly hit with your worst nightmare.

“Yes! I’m coming! Just leave it on the table, please,” a familiar deep voice calls out—just as he strides into the room, fresh from the shower.

A towel hangs low on his hips, clinging for dear life, while he rubs another through his damp hair, completely unaware of your presence. Water glistens on his chest. And abs. So many abs.

You freeze.

He freezes.

And then his eyes meet yours.

—

A/N: Thank you guys for reading!! PT:2 Dropping soon!! Hopefully this fic has 3 parts max <3 Let me know what you guys think🫶🏽

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doomgurlfics · 58 minutes ago

Text

SOMEBODY

©doomgurlfics .ೃ࿐

Pairing: Non Idol Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Language, Eventual Smut, Possible slow uploads

Word Count: 4,554

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)

A/N: Hi beautiful people!🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I’m so exited to share part 2 with you all. I feel like the story is progressing well. This part is also way longer than the first. I planned for this fic to only be three parts but we will see how it goes! I hope you guys enjoy!!

PART TWO

A bright stream of sunlight slips through the blinds, warming your face and gently waking you from your sleep. You stretch, arms overhead, muscles loose and relaxed in a way they haven’t been in weeks. For a moment, everything is still.

You sit up slowly, taking a deep breath as the remnants of your dreams melt away. Padding across the room, you wince at the chill of the floor under your feet, then pull open the blinds.

And there it is. Hawaii in all its glory. The ocean sparkles under the early sun, waves curling lazily onto the shore. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

This is why you came.

Today’s plan is simple: sunbathe on the beach until your skin feels kissed by the sun, crack open that new book you’ve been meaning to read, and maybe check out a few of the beach shops just outside the resort, if you’re up for it.

You begin your morning routine, brushing your teeth and pinning your hair back as you mentally map out the hours ahead. But no matter how hard you try to focus on the present, your mind keeps drifting… back to last night.

Back to him.

The two of you blink at each other, frozen in disbelief, until your brain catches up and you spin around so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash.

“I’m so sorry!” you blurt, one hand flying up to cover your eyes as you fumble your way back toward your side of the suite. “Oh my god—I didn’t know anyone was— I thought—!”

You don’t wait for a response. You stumble through the connecting door and slam it shut behind you like you’re sealing off a crime scene. Then you lock it.

Your heart’s racing. Your face is on fire.

And worst of all… you can still see everything in your head.

The print beneath the towel was so… big.

Your face heats all over again as the image burns itself into your memory. You shake your head violently.

It’s just the champagne, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

But before you can fully collect your thoughts a sharp knock rattles the connecting door.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes wide, contemplating every life decision that led to this moment.

You scan the room like there might be hidden cameras. Maybe this was all a prank. A secret episode of one of those cheesy sitcoms your mom used to binge. Because stuff like this? This doesn’t happen in real life.

Another knock, louder this time, snaps you out of your spiral.

You groan softly, then march to the door and swing it open.

He stands there, clothes haphazardly thrown on, shirt inside out, damp hair sticking to his forehead.

“So,” he says, deadpan, phone in hand. “You want to explain why you’re stalking me, or should I skip the convo and call the cops?”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. So you just blink at him, eyes wide, hand still clutching the doorframe like it might steady your pride.

“I—I wasn’t stalking you,” you finally manage, voice about two octaves higher than usual. “The rooms are connected. Your room is connected to mine.”

He raises a brow, completely unimpressed. “And you just…walked in?”

“I thought it was a closet!” you snap, heat rising to your face. “God, believe me, if I knew you were on the other side, I would’ve bricked it shut.”

His lips twitch, just barely, but it’s enough. He’s enjoying this.

“Oh, so you accidentally wandered into a half-naked man’s room?” he muses, glancing down at his still-damp torso. “Right. Happens all the time.”

“You had a towel on!” you argue.

“Now that sounds like an admission.”

You throw your hands up. “Okay, you know what? Let’s just go to the front desk. Maybe they can explain why the hell our rooms are connected.”

He shrugs, stepping back. “Lead the way, Peeping Jane.”

You glare at him but grab your keycard anyway, tossing on a hoodie before storming toward the elevator. He follows, annoyingly relaxed for someone who just accused you of stalking.

—

Ten minutes later, the two of you are standing at the front desk, facing a too-perky resort employee who’s somehow still chipper despite it being past 10 p.m.

“I’m really sorry,” she says after tapping away on her keyboard. “It looks like the previous guests were a large family split between both suites. The connecting door was supposed to be sealed after their checkout, but… housekeeping must’ve missed it.”

You blink. “So the door just… stayed unlocked?”

She winces. “It happens sometimes, unfortunately. But since we’re currently at full capacity, we can’t offer a room change. What we can do is send someone up to lock the door from both sides tonight.”

“Please do,” you say flatly.

“And the name on the reservation?” she asks, glancing between the two of you.

“Kim Taehyung,” he says smoothly.

“And yours, miss?”

“Y/N.”

She types a few more things, then smiles brightly. “Alright, someone from maintenance will be up shortly to seal the door properly.”

Taehyung leans on the counter, glancing your way. “Nice to officially meet you,

Neighbor.”

You don’t reply.

You just walk away, praying this is the last time the universe throws the two of you into the same room.

As you think back on the whole incident, all you can do is shake your head.

It doesn’t matter. It’s over. You’ve locked the door, literally and figuratively.

Today is a new day and you are not going to let anyone ruin your plans.

This morning is for peace, sunshine, and uninterrupted tanning.

You made it out to the beach a little past eleven. It felt borderline criminal to tan on an empty stomach, so you stopped for breakfast first.

Now, you’re perched on a lounge chair, sunglasses on, sunscreen applied, and book in hand. The waves crash in a steady rhythm nearby, the sound serving as white noise as you immerse yourself in your book.

This is exactly what you came for.

Surprisingly, you make it halfway through your book before deciding to call it quits. The sun is high, your skin is warm, and the thought of wandering the beach shops feels too tempting to pass up, especially with the hope of finding a cute cover-up or two.

Back in your room, you shower quickly, throw on a fresh outfit, and head downstairs. You reach the resort shuttle just in time, thanking the driver as you hop on.

It’s crowded, just as you expected. There’s only one open seat near the back.

You start down the narrow aisle, scanning for your spot, then pause mid-step.

Taehyung, oblivious to your presence, sits in the seat right beside the empty one. He’s leaned slightly toward the window, earbuds in, expression unreadable as he stares out at the scenery like he belongs in a travel ad.

For a split second, you consider turning around. Maybe the cover-up can wait.

But then you remember who the hell you are.

You’re that bitch.

So you keep walking, head high, and slide into the seat beside him without hesitation. He glances over briefly, then does a full double take.

Ripping an earbud out of his ear, he smirks.

“Well, Y/N, it seems the universe keeps finding ways to bring us together,” he says, tone light but eyes locked on you.

You pointedly look forward, pretending not to notice the way your stomach flutters at the sound of your name on his lips.

“Or maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter.

He laughs under his breath, deep and unbothered. “Could be both.”

You don’t answer. You’re too focused on keeping your expression neutral.

“Have you been enjoying your day so far?” he asks, attempting small talk.

“Yes,” you reply curtly, hoping that ends the conversation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him start to say something, but then stop himself.

A small pang of guilt tugs at your chest. You weren’t raised to be rude.

You sigh softly, then shift to face him a little more. “What about you?”

He leans back slightly, eyes squinting against the sun pouring through the shuttle windows. “I slept in, then wandered down to the bar for a drink—”

“At what, noon?” you interrupt, raising a brow.

“Eleven-thirty,” he corrects, unbothered. “It’s vacation. Time’s fake.”

You shake your head, lips twitching despite yourself.

“Then I realized I completely forgot sunscreen,” he continues, lifting the collar of his shirt. “Pretty sure my shoulders are halfway to medium-rare.”

You glance at him, tan skin, a hint of sunburn already starting to peek through, and shake your head again. “That’s what happens when you dress like a tourist cliché.”

He gasps in mock offense. “This shirt has personality.”

“It’s loud.”

“So am I.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, just a little.

“What are you getting from the shops?” he asks, eyes locking onto yours with casual curiosity, or maybe something more.

You blink, caught off guard by how direct his gaze is.

“A cover-up,” you say simply, shifting your attention back to the front. “Something light I can wear over my swimsuit.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Let me guess, neutral tones, maybe a pop of color. Practical but still cute.”

You glance at him, surprised. “That’s… oddly specific.”

He shrugs, smirking. “You just seem like the type who packs logically, but still wants to turn heads.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure whether to be flattered or annoyed. “And what exactly do you need from the shops? A new dad shirt?”

He grins. “Nope. Aloe. Lots of it.”

That earns a small, genuine laugh from you, quick, but real.

And when you glance over again, he’s already looking at you, like he’s cataloging every shift in your mood.

And for the first time, you don’t immediately look away.

The bus lurches to a stop, jolting you out of the moment. You’ve arrived.

As you step off, you and Taehyung naturally part ways, each heading off in search of your respective shopping missions.

You’ve got a two-hour window before the shuttle leaves, which means you’re browsing at double speed. Light work, really. A few shops, a couple impulse buys, and by the end of it, you’ve got way more than a cover-up in your bag.

But whatever. You’ve decided every bad financial decision you make on this trip is in good taste. It’s a graduation gift.

Girl Math.

As you board the shuttle for the ride back, your eyes instinctively flick toward your previous seat.

And there he is—Taehyung, sitting by the window again.

But this time, not alone.

A pretty brunette sits beside him, the two of them deep in conversation, heads tilted close. Laughing.

A small, unwelcome pang tugs at your chest. Annoyance? Disappointment? You frown.

Seriously?

You just met him. And he was kind of an ass at first. There is absolutely no reason for you to feel anything right now.

You brush it off and keep walking, choosing a random empty seat toward the front without so much as a second glance.

Back to reality. No distractions.

Especially not ones wearing pineapple shirts.

The next time you see your neighbor is at the luau the following night.

You’d taken your time getting ready, slipping into a flowy dress that sways with every step. Gold accessories catch the light just right, and your hair—fluffy, soft curls you managed with a no-heat method and a lot of prayer—actually held up, despite the humidity.

You were worried your bundles would betray you in this weather, but they’ve shown out. You mentally make a note to reorder the brand once you’ve returned home.

You’re seated at a round table near the stage, sharing space with a young family, two parents, a squirmy toddler boy, and their daughter, who’s maybe five and dangerously cute. Full cheeks, curious eyes, and a sparkly flower clip in her hair.

You spend the first few minutes cooing over her, asking her name and complimenting her clip, which earns you a shy smile and a handful of goldfish crackers in return.

Honestly? It’s peaceful.

Until you feel that familiar prickle on the back of your neck. That tiny shift in the air that says you’re being watched.

You glance behind you, and there he is.

Taehyung, dressed in all white linen, standing across the lawn with a drink in hand.

His eyes are already on you.

You turn around, not wanting to give the impression that you were staring first. You hated to admit it, but the man looked good in everything.

You refocus on the menu in front of you, trying to decide between the grilled mahi-mahi and the kalua pork, when a familiar hand lands on the chair beside you.

“Good evening. Is anyone sitting here?” he asks the table, voice smooth and polite.

You open your mouth to answer, but the mother beside you beats you to it.

“No! You’re welcome to sit,” she says brightly.

You smile along, tight but polite, while Taehyung slides into the empty seat without hesitation.

His cologne hits you immediately. Warm. Clean. Expensive.

For the moment, the two of you sit in silence, pretending to study the menu like it holds the secrets of the universe.

The family chatters around you, laughing, passing around crayons and wet wipes, existing in their own little bubble that you don’t dare interrupt.

You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.

He’s calm. Too calm. Like he’s waiting you out.

Eventually, you break the silence.

“So,” you say before you can stop yourself, “how did the aloe turn out for you?”

The words leave your mouth, and you instantly regret them. Really? That’s what you went with?

Taehyung glances over, clearly amused. “Worked like magic. Turns out, I’m not as indestructible as I thought.”

You hum, nodding like that somehow justifies your comment. “Good. I’d hate to see you burst into flames.”

“Really!” he exclaims, hand to his chest in mock shock. “My, how the tables have turned. At first, I was sure you wanted to be the one to set me on fire, with your stare alone.”

You give him a dry look. “I’m not into arson.”

He leans in slightly, eyes twinkling. “Shame. I think you’d look great with a lighter.”

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “That’s deeply concerning.”

“Is it?” he grins. “Or is it just… chemistry?”

You shake your head, fighting a laugh at his corny joke just as the waiter appears beside your table.

He takes everyone’s orders, kalua pork for you, something grilled and spicy for Taehyung, then disappears with a practiced smile.

The lights around the stage begin to dim, a soft hush settling over the crowd as island drums echo faintly in the distance.

Palm fronds sway under the warm night breeze, tiki torches flickering to life as the emcee welcomes everyone to the luau.

You relax into your seat, ready to enjoy the show.

Beside you, Taehyung leans back as well, his arm resting casually along the back of your chair, not touching you, but close enough that you’re suddenly very aware of how warm the night has become.

Neither of you says anything.

But for once, the silence doesn’t feel awkward.

It feels… easy.

Your food arrives midway through the show, and as expected, it’s heavenly. Rich, savory, and exactly what you needed after a long day in the sun.

You’re just finishing the last few bites when one of the hosts begins circling the audience, microphone in hand, scanning for their next “lucky” guest.

They’ve been calling people up to the stage all night for an impromptu hula lesson, and while it’s made for great entertainment, it’s also your personal nightmare.

As the host inches closer, you immediately avert your gaze. You straighten your silverware. Check your napkin. Pretend to be deeply interested in the dessert menu, even though you already know you’re getting the pineapple cake.

Taehyung notices, of course.

“Wow,” he murmurs, amused. “That’s some real elite-level avoiding-eye-contact going on.”

“Don’t,” you mutter through your teeth, eyes still focused on your lap.

He laughs softly. “What, afraid you’ll get picked?”

“Afraid I’ll embarrass myself in front of the entire resort, yeah.”

The host is getting closer. Too close.

Then you hear it.

“Oh, this one looks like she has the rhythm!” she says into the mic, stepping closer. “And, oh my goodness, look at her partner! What a beautiful couple!”

You practically choke on air.

“Oh, we’re not—” you begin, shaking your head rapidly, holding up your hands.

But before you can finish the sentence, Taehyung is already standing, flashing that easy, charming smile of his like this is the best thing that’s happened to him all night.

“Thank you,” he says smoothly, reaching down to grab your hand. “We try.”

You glare at him. “Taehyung—”

“Come on,” he whispers, already tugging you up from your seat. “Can’t let our fans down.”

And just like that, you’re being led to the stage under flickering tiki lights, the host clapping delightedly as the crowd cheers.

You want to be mad. You should be mad.

But you can’t help it, you laugh. The whole thing is ridiculous.

Within minutes, you and Taehyung are both up on stage, swaying side by side in matching grass skirts. A flower crown rests slightly crooked on your head, and someone’s auntie from the audience has already yelled out, “Shake it, girl!”

The instructor stands in front of the group, hips moving effortlessly, her voice cheerful and upbeat as she guides everyone through the steps.

“Right foot out… sway… and smile!” she sings.

You try your best to follow, your hips slightly out of sync, your laugh bubbling up every time you glance at Taehyung, who somehow, is not half bad at this.

“You’ve done this before,” you accuse, shooting him a look.

He grins. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“You mean a man of no shame.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to.”

The crowd cheers as everyone on stage gives their final pose, hands in the air, hips popped to the side.

You’re still catching your breath when the host thanks the volunteers and ushers you back down to your seats, but the warmth in your chest lingers.

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the tiki torches, or the hand that still casually brushes against yours, but for a moment, it’s easy to forget why you ever found him annoying at all.

Just for a moment.

Later that night, you’re jolted out of your sleep by a loud banging, followed by laughter.

You sit up, way too fast, immediately regretting it as a wave of dizziness hits. What the hell is that?

Another boom echoes through the wall, followed by more laughter. Male voices. One of them unmistakably Taehyung’s.

You grab your phone and squint at the screen. 3:02 a.m.

You scowl.

The laughter crescendos into another thud, like someone just fell into a wall, or onto furniture. You can practically feel the bass of their bad decisions vibrating through the floorboards.

You throw the covers off and stomp to the connecting door, half-asleep and all the way annoyed. You’re just about to knock when you remember it’s been locked.

Which means if you want to deal with this, you’ll have to go to his actual front door.

You pause, debating it. Is this really worth getting out of bed for?

You almost turn back.

But then another thud rattles the wall, followed by a high-pitched burst of female laughter that grates on your last nerve.

Nope. Not sleeping through that.

Sliding into your slippers and snatching your keycard off the nightstand, you storm out of your room, padding down the hall until you reach his door.

You knock. Firm. Twice.

Then wait.

The music lowers, and the door creaks open a moment later, revealing Taehyung, lit by the soft glow of the hallway light.

He looks… surprised. His shirt is gone, this time replaced by a low-hanging chain and a pair of joggers. He blinks, clearly not expecting to see you.

A beat passes before his mouth tugs into a lazy smirk. “Couldn’t sleep without me?”

Your jaw clenches. “It’s three in the morning, and it sounds like you’re filming an episode of Love Island in here.”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, still leaning lazily against the doorframe. “Never seen it. But sorry, we were just dancing. Got a little tipsy and decided to see who’s the better breakdancer.”

You stare at him, unimpressed. “At 3 a.m.?”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t sound like the brightest idea now that I say it out loud, but that’s what the tequila does to you.”

You don’t even dignify that with a response. Just keep glaring.

He stares back, lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk, until his eyes drop slightly, casually scanning over your form.

It’s subtle, but you catch it.

And suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your outfit: a silky camisole and shorts set that felt cute and breezy in your room. But now, with the cool hallway air and your nipples pressing against the fabric, you wish you had on ten more layers.

You cross your arms on instinct.

Glancing through the crack in the door, you spot two women and another man lounging inside. One of the girls exactly like the one from the bus.

“You can come in, if you want,” Taehyung says, pulling the door open wider. That signature smirk tugs at his mouth again. “Show us some of those hula moves you did earlier.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or flirting. Maybe both. Either way, you’re not biting.

“No thanks,” you say flatly, voice laced with dry sarcasm. “I left my grass skirt and shame at the luau.”

That earns a low laugh from him, and one of the girls inside turns toward the door, eyeing you curiously.

You don’t wait for a follow-up.

“Goodnight, Taehyung.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, ignoring the amused “Night, neighbor,” that follows behind you.

You don’t look back. You don’t have to look back.

Because you know he’s watching.

And damn it, your skin is still buzzing like he touched you.

Today was excursion day and you were beyond excited. You were going snorkeling in the Hanauma Bay and you could not wait!

Checking, once more to confirm, everything is in your bag, you head out the door. Simultaneously as Taehyung apparently.

“Morning. I’m surprised to see you up this early after all the partying last night,” you say, smirking as check to make sure your door is locked.

Taehyung lets out a soft laugh, adjusting the strap of his small backpack. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

You glance over at him as the two of you fall into step down the hall. He looks ridiculously good for someone who hosted a 3 a.m. breakdancing competition. A crisp white linen shirt, swim trunks, and that damn straw hat that makes him look like a K-drama lead on vacation.

He catches you looking and raises a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re checking me out, again.”

You scoff. “Please. I’m just trying to figure out how someone with such terrible sleep habits still manages to function.”

“Natural charm and electrolytes,” he replies, flashing a grin. “Where you headed, anyway?”

“Hanauma Bay. I’m doing the snorkeling excursion today.”

His eyes light up a little. “No way. Me too.”

You blink. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” he says, pressing the elevator button. “I guess fate really doesn’t want to give you a break from me.”

You roll your eyes as the doors open. “Or maybe it’s trying to test me.”

As you step inside, the playful tension between you sizzles just a little stronger.

The space feels smaller than usual. Or maybe it’s just the way Taehyung leans casually against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, watching you with a grin that’s far too amused for this early in the morning.

“You sure you’re ready for snorkeling?” he asks. “Water’s pretty unforgiving to people who talk as much trash as you do.”

You raise a brow. “Please. I’ve got better lung capacity than you think.”

“Is that so?” he teases, stepping a little closer. “Wanna bet?”

Your breath catches slightly at the proximity, but you don’t flinch. Instead, you smirk, lifting your chin just enough to meet his gaze.

“Tempting,” you murmur, “but I’ve got a full day ahead of me. Don’t want to embarrass you too early.”

The elevator dings before he can reply, but his quiet laugh follows you out into the lobby.

The lobby is packed, filled with a mix of excited families and tipsy retirees. There’s a chorus of voices, clattering flip-flops, and the scent of sunscreen lingering in the air.

It takes a few minutes to locate the right shuttle, everyone’s buzzing about luaus, hikes, or boat tours, but eventually you and Taehyung find your group.

Once aboard, the two of you settle into a pair of side-by-side seats near the back. The windows are slightly fogged from the humid morning air, but the ocean view as you drive along the coast is more than enough to distract you.

The ride goes smoothly. You trade light conversation and occasional laughs, both of you surprisingly at ease. Somewhere between teasing him about his floral dad shirt and him asking if your snorkel mask would ruin your lashes, it starts to feel… natural.

When you arrive at Hanauma Bay, the real excitement kicks in. You grab your gear and follow the group down to the shoreline. The water is impossibly blue, the kind of postcard-perfect scene that makes you feel like you’re inside a dream.

You and Taehyung drift toward the edge of the group as the guide gives a brief safety talk. Afterward, you both wade into the water together, slipping on your fins and masks.

“Last chance to back out,” Taehyung says, flashing you a grin as he pulls his goggles down.

You roll your eyes. “Try to keep up, rookie.”

Then you both dive in.

Beneath the surface, everything feels surreal. The ocean cradles you in silence, broken only by the bubbles from your breath and the flick of fins slicing through water. You and Taehyung move in rhythm, weaving through schools of fish and coral beds like you’ve been doing it for years.

It’s peaceful—until it isn’t.

You surface for air, adjusting your mask, but something feels… off. You can’t get a full breath. You try again, inhaling sharply, but it’s like sipping through a clogged straw.

A flutter of panic builds in your chest.

You rip your snorkel out of your mouth and gasp, but instead of relief, it only brings on more confusion. You cough, but it feels like the air just won’t come. Your vision swims as you try to stay afloat, but your limbs are heavy.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp with concern. He’s treading water beside you now, reaching out.

“I—” you start, but the word doesn’t make it out. The world tilts, blurring around the edges.

And then everything goes black.

A/N: And we reach the end of part 2!! If you made it this far, thank you so much!! I truly appreciate all the love on part 1 and I will try to get part three up by early next week. But I do have work so that make get in the way… Anyway I love chatting with you all so please share your thoughts!!

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