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eddiesxangel · 11 months

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Lay All Your Love On Me | Rockstar!Eddie x Nepo!Baby Reader

@oneforthemunny Summer writing game! This is the first time EVER posted something like this, pls be nice, I’m scared 🫣 Proofread but honestly there could be some minor things.

WC: 2.6K+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 😡 I S2G I MEAN IT 18+ ONLY nsfw/unprotected sex/ p in v/ dom vs sub/ dirty talk/ oral (f & M receiving)/ degradation/ name calling/ breeding kink if you squint. Sorry if I missed anything

🐚-Prompt your/Eddie's dream vacation. where do you go? what do you do? It doesn't have to be beachy or tropical, wherever you want!

The last 6 months of your life, have been the longest of your entire life. Traveling all over the USA for work, fashion shows, photoshoots, endless fittings, attending your parent's mind-numbing galas, and worst of all, not being able to see Eddie at all. He was on a Europe/Asia tour with his world-famous band Corroded Coffin, and you were at home busting your ass without any downtime. People think being a celebrity is easy, that everything is handed to you because of who your parents are, but news flash! It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

Your relationship was taking such a toll, there was only so much time in the day and with the time difference keeping up with where he was in the world was getting difficult, also the phone sex was getting old. Eddie and you decided that because you both needed some serious R&R to reconnect, a vacation was the right move. You needed it desperately, so you had your assistant book the two of you a private villa on a secluded beach in the middle of nowhere for 3 luxurious weeks.

6 months head lead up to this point, 24 weeks on the go, 182 days without him. You had even tried surprising him but each time something came up. The band wasn’t in the same city for more than one night, you had a photo shoot in Hawaii, he was in Tokyo, you had to be in Colorado for a charity event, he was in Milan. Nothing worked up until this point. His tour ended today, since you had to travel farther you got to the villa one day early.

You could just taste the ocean air as you stepped off your parents private jet. The boat ride to the little Greek island was less than an hour and you had time to unwind before Eddie was to arrive the next day.

You wanted to get there before him just to get one day to yourself. (Like you siad, it was a long 6 months) There was hardly any time for self care, not to mention when you did do your self care the vibrator Eddie had gotten you for while he was away had broke from being over uses 3 months into him being gone. There was no way in hell you were going to be caught by the paps in a sex shop getting a replacement.

The villa was beautiful, blue and white everything, a beautiful kitchen that you could fulfill all the domestic fantasies these next three weeks brought. The bedroom was huge and had a king size bed in the middle, the shower was spa like and there was an infinity pool in the back yard, it looked like the most luxurious oasis. A view of the Sea was enough to relax you the second you stepped outside, it was everything you expected. You made a mental note to give your assistant a bonus for booking this place.

*24 hrs later*

After a relaxing night of self care that included, shaving, exfoliating, facial masks, and a little bit of wine, you stayed by the pool most of the morning. It was perfect tanning weather and you would take advantage of not having tan lines. You stripped off your bathing suit, it was only you in the villa and your closest neighbour was more than a few miles away. and you weren’t expecting Eddie for a few more hours. (not that he would be complaining.) You were listening to your music, really starting to relax as your body finally understood that you are in fact in vacation mode, as you sunk into the daybed.

Meditating to the sound of the ocean, your soft music playing in the background you hadn’t a care in the world

—————————————————————————-

The second Eddie stepped off the boat he knew his hunger couldn’t be satiated until he had you consuming every inch of him. He walked into the villa and didn’t even take in its beauty. He had one thing in mind and that was finding you. He was calling out your name but the house was empty with the echo of his voice. Running to each room, he found the kitchen, the sitting room, the bathroom, and the bedroom where he finally put his bags down, but with no luck, they were all empty. He was starting to second guess if he got the date wrong? But seeing your things spread all over the bedroom including the teeniest red string bikini on the bed lead him to believe otherwise.

Then he heard it, your awful pop music coming from the yard, he knew you were here. He rushed his way to the sliding glass door, his heart skips a beat when he sees you. Laying on your stomach, head facing away from the door, bare ass in the air, on display for him. Eddie was famished and here you were sitting out for him on a silver platter. He couldn’t wait a second longer, he slid the door open and made his way towards you.

You had just started to nodd off, sun beaming down on your skin, the familiar smell of sunblock and the ocean air southed your soul.

“Oh baby you sure know how to welcome your man” Eddie sighed.

“AHHHHHHH” A scream of terror left your throat at the sudden voice right behind you you jumped and saw his cherubic face framed by the sun light beaming behind him.

“BABY” you pop up on to your knees on the lounger to embrace him in the tightest hug you could. He looked good, tired but good. He let his beard grow out and had a few more tattoos covering up his arms than the last time you saw him. His hair was the same as always and he must have been working out with the trainer while on tour because he definitely was more filled out than the last time you saw him.

Eddie pulled back so he could kiss you, not wasting any time he is ravishing you, a kiss that took your breath away, the kiss was hard, rough and messy but the passion of not being together for 6 months was coming trough his actions. His hands shot up to your bare ass grabbing it pulling you closer into him. His hands then traveled up to your breasts as a gut reaction you moaned into his touch. “God I missed you” he moaned into your mouth, hands frantic, touching any part of him you could. Time stood still, you could have been kissing him for 5 hours or 5 mins it didn’t matter you were together again.

Eddie reluctantly pulled away to take you all in. 6 months of not feeling, seeing, or tasting you he was a man starved. “God baby if I knew you would be welcoming me like this I would have told the pilot to parachute me onto the island to get here faster.” His eyes take in your bare everything. Giggling at his stupid flirting, you blushed, but it quickly went away when he latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Your head flew back with pleasure, with a moan he pulled away to see the cute little bud that was forming. The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly that you forgot what it was like to be touched, to be wanted. Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signaling for him to take it off, you needed to feel his skin, you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him. You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough. “What do you think you’re doing?” Eddie gripped the back of your hair and yanked your head back, letting out a little yelp “Please Eddie I need you, let me make you feel good baby. I need this, it's been too long, I can’t-” Usually under different circumstances, he wouldn’t let you touch him until you were told you were allowed, but he could see the plea in your eyes, you both needed this. “Fine, but just this one time, Princess” he let go of your hair and you bent lower to take his cock out. “You remember, one tap you’re ok, two to stop” his tone was serious, “Yes Sir” Giving him the most innocent eyes you slide your tongue up the thick shaft and envelope his head in the rest of your mouth, not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool. “ Fuuuuuck, good girl” Eddie’s breath became erratic. His hips pulled back and you knew it was coming, he thrust back into your mouth almost hitting the back of your throat, fucking himself in your mouth your eyes started watering and your breathing became shallow but you were in heaven. “You ok babydoll?” He’s looking down at you, hand gripped on the back of your head still thrusting until he hit the back of your throat. You gave him one tap on his bare thigh, as he kept up the pace. “I missed this mouth so fucking much, my hand wasn’t enough. Could’ve had any groupie I wanted, girls were throwing themselves at me” He said through gritted teeth. “ but I didn’t *thrust* want *thrust* any *thrust* of *thrust* them *thrust* they aren’t you” his hips sped up until he filling pulled out. You were finally able to catch your breath, you were a mess, hair tangled and scalp burning from his harsh grip, drool coming out of your mouth, tears and snot running down your face. He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention, you tried rubbing your thighs together for some sort of friction but Eddie noticed.

Moaning your name he pushed you back down onto the day bed, you saw the hunger in his eyes “Baby, please.” involuntary whimper came from your mouth, he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy “oh baby” he says with shaky breath the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.

Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs forcing your knees open he stared into your heat “Oh Princess, you’ve been so neglected, haven't you? No one to take care of you like I can, don’t worry I’m here now.” He wasn’t talking to you, he was talking to her. He leaned in, soft kitten licks your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate. The tickle of his new beard was a sensation you had yet to feel, it’s not what you were used to with Eddie but you weren’t complaining, you were doing the exact opposite actually. You couldn’t resist it anymore, your hips started gyrating into his face, you needed more. “Eddie please” you whimpered. “Seems like you’re forgetting my name babydoll, but I’ll give you a pass it has been 182 days,” he says looking up still stroking your folds with his index finger. “ ‘m sorry Master, please I need you” you practically in tears. “That’s my good girl, beg for it” he’s grinning down at you but you’re too distracted you didn’t realize he had his pants off from around his ankles, his hard cock in hand he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices.

At this point you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open eyes rolling to the back of your head, inch by inch the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch, it was good, too good, you’ll never let it be this long ever again to have him fill you.

“My little slut can’t even think straight can she? My big cock got you all stupid didn’t it?” You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close and he hardly started. “I-I- huhhhhhh, master plea-” You didn’t stand a chance he started thrusting into you, your ankles rolling, he gripped your calfs to hold your legs as wide was the could go. With each thrust the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up. The feeling in your belly starting to build until he unexpectedly flipped you so you were on all fours, and he started thrusting harder “Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” It was so good your hands gave out, your check pressing into the foam mattress, only making your ass stick out more for him. He spread your cheeks, and you scream as he hits that sweet spot in you each time. A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you, you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out. He’s going at a a pace that makes your head spin, his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow. The noises that are coming out of you are inhumane, you didn’t even recognize yourself, he was so big, you were so full, it was too good.

Eddie yanked your head back by your hair so you were parallel with his body. “Tell your master how much you missed this cock you little slut” he whispers through gritted teeth. You couldn’t talk, each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in, you almost fall you grab his forearm to balance yourself. Suddenly he pulled out and you cried out at the loss. “You really have been fucked dumb because I know you heard me” he pushed you back down your hands almost not catching your fall. “I missed your cock so bad, it’s been so long, Master please! I need it!” you were crying, all your emotions built up leading up to this point. “There you go baby, was that so hard?” He plunged back in each thrust building and building, the coil in your stomach tightening until he started rubbing your clit and you couldn’t take it anymore “Master I need to come please” you cried! “Oh looks like you didn’t forget everything, good girl, come for me” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking, your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body. “Oh god yes, baby milk this cock so good I’m going to fill you up” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock you felt him cumming a few thrusts later.

Dazed, and all fucked out you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you. “Hi princess” Eyes glazed over you manage a “Hi baby,” you reach for his face, you’re still crying, he leans into your request and gives you the softest kiss you think he has ever given you. “I missed you so much, don’t ever leave me that long again.” you sniffle and curl into his lap. “ I love you so much Princess, never again.” He held you like a child, you needed him just to be there. After a couple of minutes, the tears stopped, and you curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks, you couldn’t help yourself, your boyfriend was just so hot.

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do” he throws you over his shoulder “Eddie put me down” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face he runs you to the bedroom, you knew it was going to be a long night.

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inuiiwonderland · 1 year

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Hello! This is the same anon that sent the "reader falls for Leona while the other 3rd years fall for him" request and I was wondering if I could request a part 2 in which the reader does eventually give up on courting Leona and ends up falling for one of the other 3rd years only for Leona to finally catch feelings for him when it’s already too late?

A/n: I really wanna apologize for this being really late😓 and also sorry for this being really short and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Leona x male reader

Part 2

After weeks and months of attempts to get Leona to notice you. You finally gave up. The young beastmen will never find interest in you even if you try anything else. Which broke your heart and now Ace and deuce have to deal with a crying prefect.

"I did everything but still no Leona in my arms!" You cried out.

"There there….it's best that you move on y/n!" Deuce said as he patted your back to calm you down.

"Maybe you're right….I spent months trying to get him to notice me..so moving on is for the best"

"Hey don't worry. Maybe later you'll find someone who is worthy of your love" you smiled at aces words. You think this is the first time he said something good.

"Thanks"

After that lovely conversation with your trouble making friends, you finally were able to move on [with the help of your friends].

And because of that, you started hanging out with some of the other 3rd year's. One particular 3rd year may you add. You didn't notice when you guys have gotten so close but you found most of your days with him. Be it at his dorm, room, or just anywhere with just the two of you.

You also started to notice how insanely attractive he was which made you feel stupid for not noticing earlier. You later started gaining feelings for him which made you really scared to ever tell him about how you feel.

Not wanting to ruin the friendship you two have, You chose to stay quiet.

Until today….

He decided to take you out for one of his modeling gigs since you always beg him to take you. Now here you two where. In his dressing room talking as he was preparing himself for a photoshoot.

"You look amazing vil!"

"Why thank you"

What you didn't know, was that vil look a little…anxious. Which would be unusual for him if it wasn't that he was planning on confessing his feelings for you in the next 5 minutes.

You heard a knock at the door followed by his assistant telling him that he has 5 minutes left. He quickly finished up and turned to you.

"Ah I have one thing to tell you"

"What is it?" He couldn't help but think how cute you were with the curious look on your face.

"It's been great hanging out with you these past couple weeks. So say….how about a date after my shoot?" And before you could answer another knock was heard again.

"The shoot is starting vil!"

"Think about it" He said before leaving.

That moment you felt a rush of excitement go through your veins and entire body as you squealed in delight.

You composed yourself before walking out the dressing room to see vil photoshoot.

You definitely said yes for the date that night.

A week went by and you and vil were officially dating. You guys were basically known to be the best couple in school grounds. And because of all this attention that has been going around in NRC a certain beastmen has heard the news.

He didn't know what to feel. In fact he shouldn't feel anything because he was never really close to you or even cared about what you did.

But guess after all those past attempts in catching Leona's eye did work. He noticed some of your attempts, but didn't really care. Until after you stopped. He knows he shouldn't really care, but he felt empty without you trying to show off to him.

He never had anyone love or even care for him just like you did. Maybe that one thing Leona regrets losing since now he has to live with the fact that he noticed his feelings for you a little too late.

Again sorry for this being short and I hope you still enjoyed this!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #twst angst #angst

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 year

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Walla....kn1ves....genius big brain yandere writer....i just (re)found your Yves work (im sure you saw me freak out in the tags lmao) if you have the time/energy/inspo pls i beg you for a speck, a crumb, a droplette, ANYTHING of my baby Yves x fem!reader. I'm not sure how specific is too specific but I have a truckload of daydreams and prompts for this man dc im down BAD BAD for the way you write him. I'm not sure if this is too specific of a request but can it be yves holding himself back constantly because he wants to *romance* the reader but its so obvious he's itching for more until one day he finally snaps and takes her (specifically him giving her his virginity and whoops maybe going crazy when he finds out she isnt one)? I'm just obsessed with his characterization and want to see him in a ton of situations and feeling/reacting to different things. The stern dom undertones his whole vibe has disguised by a friendly foreign guide 🥵 The drabble of him was sooooo good and such a tease of his personality, it's so enticing hahaha. If that prompt is no good or doesn't inspire you then anything else is fine and ofc if you have no inspiration for Yves at all then that's a-okay too!!! Thank you sooooo much for thinking up that beautiful man and sharing him with us!!! Hope you enjoy your holidays💞💞💞

A/N: Ugh I'm so sorry I took so long in answering 😭😭 I was gonna write like a whole piece but my time has been cut dramatically, so please accept this poor little piece!! I was honestly so overjoyed at seeing your tags, it makes me so happy to see people's reactions to my stuff ┗( T﹏T )┛I wish I could have more time to write for this because I love the concept, I'm a huge fan of the "mysterious foreign guide who's just a little too friendly" kind of trope. Thank you so much for your support anon and I hope you enjoy this!! OG piece here for any of you nerds!

TW: Kidnapping, implied dubcon/noncon, manipulation

It wasn’t hard to notice Yve’s shift in behavior. Well, this shift out of many. When you first met him, he gave off a kind, well-meaning but nervous vibe. He did his best to show you around, to make you comfortable and converse with you in english to the best of his knowledge. That kind persona shifted into something more… desperate; obsessive, once he brought you back to his apartment. He was still kind, still well-meaning and observant to your needs. He apologized profusely when you got upset from how he kept you from leaving, promising that you weren’t missing anything important in class and that he could show you real culture instead! What could you learn from a textbook that would be better than seeing the country itself?

But time and time again, Yves made excuses to keep you inside, to make you stay by his side whether through photoshoots or studying, with him as your “teacher”. You had to learn the basics before taking such a “big” step out into his country, right? Unfortunately for you, Yve’s only taught information on the most trivial subjects. From words like “textbook” to “glass”, you were able to make meaningless sentences that wouldn’t serve you well in conversing with native speakers outside of Yve’s little apartment. Sure, it might help you occasionally, but it got you no where closer to understanding Yve’s rushed mumbling and incoherent rambling.

With your sudden move to his apartment and his new change in conduct, Yves had slowly become less generous. He didn’t make as much of an effort to talk in english anymore, and made far less points to explain himself. You couldn’t tell what caused this new change-- a change that you were soon starting to accept as Yves showing his true colors. The man was still attentive to your needs, still caring and kind-- but the posessiveness that had slipped out almost entirely seemed to be taking hold. And while you’d think that a growing obsession would make it more beneficial to you-- it in fact, made your difficulty increase tenfold. Yves began to direct you on what you should wear, when you should eat, what you should do for the day.

Not only that, but his attentiveness to…more intimate needs were far more prevalent as well. Whether it was bathing, or the need that pulsed between your legs, Yve’s was there to try and take care of it. You pushed him away multiple times, awkwardly trying to tell him that you were fine-- but it never seemed to stick. He always just looked at you with a tilted, confused expression, muttering in his native tongue as if he didn’t understand. So when the foreign guide began to sleep next to you instead of the cot on the floor, and began to press his morning erection agaist your backside sleepily, you knew your protests weren’t having any effect.

You would have walked right out of that teensy apartment the moment you felt he didn’t listen-- if you weren’t so afraid. If you weren’t afraid of the loaded handgun in his locked nightstand drawer, or how easily he could destroy your life at your new university-- which he mentioned offhand multiple times in a casual manner-- you would have walked out. The power he held against you, a foreign student with failing grades and no money, was too much for you to ignore. So, you decided to bide you time. It was only a matter of weeks until he got bored with you, you decided. But his new actions didn’t seem to prove that.

In fact, the lustful, mischievous look he gave you that evening was the complete opposite. His scrawny frame jumped atop yours, hooking his hands behind your neck and leaning in to try and kiss you. He had planned an unusually fancy dinner, lighting candles you had never seen in his apartment before and bringing a bottle of wine with some italian takeout. You tried to question him about the mound of pillows and blankets on his balcony, the sudden romantic lighting, but the male only gave you a broad statement on how it was a “celebration” of sorts.

Yves’ sudden prowling mood after dinner wasn’t a complete shock-- considering you felt his eyes on you the entire evening-- but it still caught you a tad off guard. You tried to reject him, to push him away after each kiss, but it was done with such little effort and such great fear that you stayed silent once he muttered in an annoyed tone in his own language. Yves took your silence as a surrender, friskily lowering his hand under your shirt to caress your abdomen. He rambled against your flesh in half-english as he kissed you up and down, not afraid to let out vocal little noises of pleasure, or grunts of satisfaction ones he heard your breath hitch or a hum of desire come from your lips.

But it wasn’t until he uttered a sentence with a familiar word, did you actually reply to him. You recognized the term from messing around with your friends, when you jokingly learned dirty words from your textbooks and the internet to use when you finally entered the country. You never expected to actually utilize them unless you went to a club or bar and happened to meet someone. One of those words, was ‘virgin.’ A more tame term compared to the bunch you had memorized, but one that you and your friends had idiotically decided to research. Though, it seemed your stupid endeavors had paid off.

As Yves repeated himself, you began to understand the sentence a bit more. The man was seeming to imply… you were a virgin? Something about you both no longer virgin-ing? Maybe he was saying that he was going to ‘virgin’ you? You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, only mustering up the courage to poorly explain your sexual status to him, first in english and then in a broken version of his language. You tried to repeat yourself, thinking you might have said your statement wrong-- but Yve’s shocked expression and sudden lack of kisses seemed to prove you wrong.

“You have…. Sex?” Yve put a hand to his mouth, eyes begging you to respond.

“Uh….yes?” You said with an awkward expression; you hoped he was asking what you thought.

Yve’s let out a choked gasp, looking as if you had crushed his heart in your palm.

He looked down, voice cracking as he mumbled something incoherent, and likely not understandable to you in the first place.

“I….I i’m sorry?” You tried to apologize, seeing how shaken Yves had become at finding out you weren’t as inexperienced as he. Despite his eagerness, you could tell he was new to trying to initiate something you had already grown long accustomed to, new to being so intimate. It was actually in part of his eagerness that you realized he wasn’t of the same sexual history. He was full of anticipation and desire, throwing caution and logic to the wind to fulfill what he had read in books and seen in films.

Yves seemed to treasure the act of losing ones virginity far more than you had-- but you had only noticed it now. The candlelit dinner, the mood-fitting music-- your first experience was nowhere near as romantic.

Yves seemed shaken, his low, almost sob-filled words growing heavier. He grew more aggressive, seeming to realize something now that he had processed this unexpected news. He had assumed you were just as much of an amateur as him-- that he’d be the one to “deflower” you in an act of passionate romance-- a bubble fantasy that had just been popped. But the male realized-- if he couldn’t have his desired outcome, he’d have to make due with what he had. Which was to make sure you’d fall to your knees, experiencing the best night of ‘passion’ that would make you never want to crawl to another man again.

He was going to claim you-- to make it so those nights you spent with others never counted.

You could only understand a fifth of what Yves breathily moaned into your mouth, once again jumping your bones though this time much more roughly. Before you could say anything further you had felt his quick hands unbutton your pants, his own thrown to the floor. He didn’t listen as you begged him to atleast let you move to the bed, where you would no longer be visible to prying eyes on the balcony. But he didn’t care-- Yves had already taken off his shirt, intent on ripping yours away too. He didn’t care anymore if this wasn’t going to be special for the reason he expected-- he was going to make sure you would be left with a night you wouldn’t forget.

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taralen · 21 days

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"What makes you think he would ever love a disposable little thing like you, even if he could?"

I'm finally getting around to drawing one of what I'd like to call Cyber City's Bigwigs, aka major Darkner business leaders of the most prominent industries that run Cyber World's economy. These prominent figures were already in power long before Spamton's debut as the one and only BIG SHOT.

First is Nagela Sax, founder and genius designer of the luxury brand NAGELA SAX. Her long, slender body and paraffin-white skin make her one of Cyber World's most beautiful women. With the power to alter her eye color, makeup, hair, and nails at will, she is incredibly versatile. Despite looking similar to a fashion doll, she possesses internal organs. Her rigid torso allows her to always keep shape no matter what clothes she wears, but her breasts, which only superficially resemble real ones just like her ears, are hard as resin. Because of her body's mixed textures, she moves similarly to a stop-motion figure.

Nagela hires Addisons to model most of her clothing lines but never lets anyone else model her shoes. She takes pride in having the "fairest feet" in Cyber World and perhaps the other Dark Worlds as well.

Before Spamton, no other Darkner could stand or pose beside her for photoshoots. He was the only exception due to his unique, snow-white skin that complemented hers. Some spectated that the two were a couple. Nagela left this as an open question, but Spamton denied this. She became possessive over him and took pride in the fact that no other woman could ever compare to her when they stood together.

Until a White Addison showed up for employment: Thetalan, a strange little woman who was perhaps fair enough even for him. She hired her out of curiosity and intrigue despite knowing that she was far too short and "flawed" for an Addison. When she realized how the young lady looked at him, she felt an intense and burning desire to crush the girl's hopes and dreams of ever being noticed by him at every opportunity.

However, during a fashion show in 1996, while Spamton and Nagela made their way to their seats, Theta opened the door to the hallway they walked down, and his dark gaze met hers. Nagela caught the way their eyes widened as if they were already familiar, and intense jealousy sparked within her. During the entire show, Spamton fidgeted and bounced his knee, his eyes focusing on nothing at all. She had a burning suspicion it was because of that woman.

After the show and on the following workday, Nagela called Theta to her office. There, she stood tall over the small lady and questioned her about what had transpired during that "encounter." Theta lied about never talking to him, but Nagela was unsatisfied with this answer. She knew that, just like her, she found Spamton, the most handsome man in all of Cyber World. Euphoric as she domineered over her, Nagela declared, "What makes you think he would ever love a disposable little thing like you, even if he could? You're nothing but an Addison. You could never compare to someone like him! Be glad I gave a pitiful thing like you a chance to work for me."

These spiteful words crushed Theta's spirit, and her work performance slipped in the days that followed. Finding this the perfect opportunity to give a crushing blow, Nagela fired her and laughed as the girl cried on her way out.

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phantomonabudget · 7 months

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IT'S DONE!!! 🥳 My new Phantom tailsuit is complete and on its way to the UK!

Just completely in awe of what @ajmachete (IG) and his Denver Bespoke @vigilantelabs (IG) team have created for me! AHHHH!!!!! 🤩😳🤩🥰🤩

This suit is inspired by 90s era Phantom suits on Broadway. All the fabrics were sourced to provide the best possible match to the authentic stage fabrics. Anyone who has researched for the Phantom's suit knows the iconic patterned silk is prohibitively expensive and impossible to obtain. Finding a fabric that gives the same effect is incredibly difficult, but I think we found a great substitute! In fact, stumbling onto this fabric was the entire inspiration for this commission in the first place.

I contacted AJ earlier this year about constructing a new suit for my Phantom of the Opera cosplay. Immediately, I knew I made an excellent choice. He and his team made the whole process smooth. They are top professionals in their craft, and it is evident in this exquisite result. If you need any bespoke tailoring done for your cosplay, or if you have an idea for a cool everyday garment, please give AJ and his team a look!

Thank you AJ for this amazing piece of art! 🥰

I cannot wait to receive the suit and don the mask for the first time in nearly three years. I am so excited for the upcoming conventions, photoshoots, and shenanigans with the @the_phananigans (IG) in/around London! ❤️🇬🇧

I also hope to use this new version of the cosplay to highlight some of our outstanding artists in the Phantom community. Standby for future collaborations. 😎

#phantom of the opera #phantomonabudget #phantom of the opera cosplay #phantom cosplay #phantom costumes #the phantom #the Phantom's suit #Phantom tailsuit #maria bjornson #phantom of the opera costumes #bespoke tailoring #broadway costumes #Phantom Broadway

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wanderingblindly · 27 days

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i see you reblog a director's cut post, i appear in your inbox <3

pls give me anything you choose as director's commentary on Someone in Seattle because i love her very much okay thank you!!!

see ya, love ya, bye!! xx

oh my god yes please let me talk about the undertaking that was Someone in Seattle i love you so much for this

Usually I kinda give a dissection of the entire fic, but i have a million things to say, so we're gonna start with just one fun fact and one scene:

The Studio Photoshoot:

Originally, their first photoshoot together -- the one with the flowers in the studio -- was going to end in a completely different tone; I wanted some sort of inadvertent confession.

The final version of the scene goes as follows:

“You think I’m beautiful then, Osc?” Oscar freezes, camera still held up to his eye. Lando’s gaze is sharp but his smile is small, no more than a quirk of the lips; it’s a more serious expression than Oscar’s seen, like his question is earnest. Like there’s more beneath it. “I –” He starts, lowering the camera to his chest. In a moment of silence, they look at each other, eye to eye. “Fuck off.” Lando brings his cup to his lips again, not breaking eye contact. “How’s the lighting?” “Getting there.”

But when I first typed it out, there was a slight difference in Oscar's response.

“You think I’m beautiful then, Osc?” Oscar freezes, camera still held up to his eye. Lando’s gaze is sharp but his smile is small, no more than a quirk of the lips; it’s a more serious expression than Oscar’s seen, like his question is earnest. Like there’s more beneath it. “I –” He starts, lowering the camera to his chest. In a moment of silence, they look at each other, eye to eye. Quietly, no more than a whispered exhale, he answers: “Yes.” Lando brings his cup to his lips again, not breaking eye contact. “How’s the lighting?” “Getting there.”

I thought it had a lot of potential as a moment because like, Oscar wouldn't really be confessing, exactly, but rather talking about his art. Obviously he thinks Lando is beautiful, or at the very least compelling, if he was willingly to ask him to model for his entire term portfolio. It still would have set him on edge, having to admit something like that out loud, and I think Actual Menace Lando would have enjoyed tormenting him.

It also had the added appeal of like, playing into the conflict at the end: Lando's convinced that Oscar only likes the concept of him, not the actual complicated person underneath. If Oscar had agreed here, it probably would have made that even WORSE.

The reason I didn't keep it is because I didn't want Oscar to start contemplating his feelings yet. I wanted him to continue being an idiot, and I wanted him to be able to pretend that he doesn't feel that way about Lando. Yet.

Oh, and I have some of the Pinterest photos that gave me some inspo for the set up! Here and here and here :)

Soundtrack:

I wrote this entire fic to two songs, which I played for over 1,000 minutes each :) very sane :) I liked the sort of soft wistfulness that both of these have when you zone out to them, it felt very fitting.

#i would love to talk about even more scenes if anyone cares to know!!!!!#or any of my other fics idc!!!!#THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME ANGEL I ADORE YOU!!#ask me :)#directors commentary #Someone in Seattle #Landoscar

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blainesebastian · 1 year

Text

mutually assured satisfaction (pt8)

words: 5,303 ship: austin butler x reader summary: reader’s agent approaches her with a PR stunt to date austin butler and promote both their careers. a mapped out plan, an electric relationship–what could possibly go wrong? notes: masterlist is on my sidebar, thanks for reading! warnings: none :) tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @kittenlittle24, @slowsweetlove, @namoreno, @strokesofstokes, @callthedarknessdown, @kibumslatina, @al-co-hol-youlater, @frogoerson, @dancer4j

The breakup between you is silent, nothing public or overly dramatic, leaked to press and plastered on the internet and letting that virus run its course until it’s out of everyone’s systems. Social media has a field day with it, posting smear pieces and fans taking sides, unironically drumming up even more publicity for both of your movies. That was the whole plan right? The point? Even the breakup would end up serving you both in satisfactory ways.

And yet it’s not something you can even begin to revel in.

There are a few emotions that have been constantly ping-ponging you back and forth; anger, frustration, sadness, before you finally just land on acceptance. At the end of the day, this was a deal, this was an agreement, and both of you met that. You throw yourself into your next project, meet new people, continue the work that you love doing.

And pretend that there’s not this small feeling deep in your chest that tells you how much you really miss Austin. It wasn’t just a relationship to you, he was quickly becoming someone you counted on, a friend, someone you enjoyed laughing with and having pointless conversations into the early hours of the morning. There was kissing, yes, and how it felt to have his lips and hands on your body but it was also so much more than that.

You think you fell just a little bit in love with him.

But things change and a lot of time passes—you don’t pay attention to the gossip and tabloids but you’re pretty sure Austin is dating some model with a name you can’t remember. Might start with a K? Regardless, you’ve reached the point where you can accept that, maybe even feel some sort of happiness for him? Or at least not hate him for moving on.

That’s what you’re doing too.

When you run into Nate again at a fashion show in New York, you start entertaining the idea of seeing him again. What it might be like to actually repair your relationship, to try again. There are even a few dates where you both have a good time. But when you kiss him, he gently cups your cheek and pulls away,

“It’s not me you’re kissing.” He says but he’s not upset by it, it’s just a fact.

You’re just not sure what you’re supposed to do with that.

When you meet with Christina to talk about events, promotions, photoshoots, interviews—she does not mention Austin even though you can tell there’s always that lingering comment, question, in the back of her throat. She kinda gives you this look that makes your skin crawl, as if opportunities are somehow slipping right through your fingers.

Sometimes, late at night, you tap open your text conversation with Austin and look at the last messages you sent one another. It was something silly about horror movies, a promise to watch Alien together because he’s never seen it. You can’t quite bring yourself to delete the interaction, even though you come closer each time.

A handful of months disappear and on the anniversary of your grandmother’s death you watch The Borne Identity to remember her by, a soft smile on your lips the entire time because she really did love Matt Damon. Joked about what she’d do if she ever met the man.

A few people reach out to you with condolences and kind words, knowing that it’s a rough day, and you somehow think you’ll hear from Austin even though you know you shouldn’t expect it.

Before you crawl into bed, a message dings on your phone and when you open up the thread, you’re kinda blinking at the small screen a few times in disbelief. It’s a picture from Austin of his TV and you can tell he’s watching The Borne Supremacy.

There’s no other message attached but you swear your heart swells twice its size—the image meaning more to you than you can possibly put into words.

The door that’s closed between you two begins to open up just a smidge.

You don’t really talk, not like you used to, there’s a few texts here and there but nothing of incredible substance. You can feel the hesitance on the other side, the tension thick enough to cut with a butterknife. So much unsaid and yet nothing to say at all. Elvis is still blowing up, regardless that it’s out of theaters, and you send little confetti emojis to him because it’s definitely something to be proud of. He sends back a heart. A week later he sends a P.I. emoji with a question mark and a soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips because there’s been rumors you’re going to star in a spy movie—very James Bond, but not quite. You reply back with a magnifying glass and an exclamation point.

And for some reason, this bare minimum way of communicating is enough. A bridge that was completely burned down being rebuilt.

Your Instagram keeps showing you not-so-helpful images of Austin and some beautiful model walking around together, getting lunch, her wearing his coat on cold days, coffee cups in hands and sharing smiles.

He looks happy—you want to ask him so many questions and yet all you can do is flip through image after image before finally closing your phone.

You should know better than anyone that pictures are never what they seem.

You go on a blind date that’s downright terrible and honestly, at this point you should know better than to let Christina suggest anyone to you. But you give it a shot because you’re lonely and you have to take steps to move on because being miserable just isn’t an option for you. It’s one thing to fail after trying, it’s another to not try at all.

Stepping out of the bar, you take a deep breath and draw your coat tighter around yourself. You got an Uber here and despite Randy wanting to take you home with him, you’re getting a ride back to your apartment. You just needed some fresh air, zipping up your coat and rocking back on your heels as you wait for the thing to arrive.

Five minutes.

You flip through a few apps absently, just wasting time, and your thumb hovers over Austin’s name as you debate texting him about this terrible date. But…you don’t. It’s not…you can’t do stuff like that. You two are barely friends and the last thing you want to do is somehow create problems in his relationship by texting him late at night when he’s probably with his model girlfriend.

You were already labeled a homewrecker thanks to your fake relationship; you don’t actually need to become one.

“I thought that was you.”

And then you damn near swallow your tongue because you turn slowly and there, smack in the middle of your universe, is Austin. He looks…good because of course he does. Handsome in a way that is somehow never captured in images or video, striking in person. It almost knocks you to your knees. He’s wearing a pair of brown boots and triple denim, which shouldn’t look good on anyone and yet it works so well for him, highlighting his long legs and trim waist.

You let out a soft breath that puffs in the night air, “Hi.”

He gives you soft smile, walking towards you, out of the bar you were just in. Was he there the whole time? Is his date waiting for him inside? “How are you?”

You purse your lips, shrugging your one shoulder, “I’m good, busy…uh,” You motion to the bar, “Clearly goin’ on terrible dates—I should never let Christina talk me into meeting anyone she knows. Randy talked about sweater vests for, I’m not joking, an hour.”

A soft laugh leaves his lips, “Yikes,” He winces as he sticks his hands into his pockets. There’s a small pause before, “I thought you might be…with Nate.”

You raise your eyebrows because interesting; you suppose you could see why he’d think that. There were a lot of rumors that you had gotten back together even after both of you decided not to try out your relationship again because you couldn’t stop thinking about—

“No,” You shake your head at Austin, “It didn’t end up working out.”

Your phone pings that your Uber driver is a minute away and you take in a deep breath, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Perfect timing because you’re not quite sure you can do this anymore, the small talk, it’s bad enough seeing him and thinking about the girl waiting for him back inside the bar.

“Don’t let me keep you from your date, my ride’s almost here.” You give him a small smile, “It was really nice seeing you.”

His eyebrows draw together for a moment and you’re moving into the street to look for your driver when—

“I’m not seein’ anyone.”

You turn quickly to look at him, his shoulders pulling together in a shrug as a slightly amused expression settles on his face. Okay now you’re definitely confused, your mouth opening and closing, trying to get the question out—

“She’s just a good friend,” Austin replies, anticipating the words that never leave your lips, “People have been speculatin’, but you know they get that wrong sometimes.”

A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth before you nod—that’s definitely true. You try not to let yourself get too overwhelmed with the heat building up inside your chest, that familiar feeling of butterflies at hearing that Austin isn’t with anyone, that he’s single, that maybe he’s told you for a reason.

“Yeah,” You agree with an amused grin, putting your phone away when your car pulls up, “Really hate when that happens.”

There’s a soft laugh from Austin, giving you a wave as you get into the car. He doesn’t go back into the bar right away, watching you drive off, and that fluttering sensation stays with you long after he’s disappeared from the rearview mirror.

The last place you thought you’d be tonight is some sort of fashion event but…Christina is insisting you put yourself out there, have your face seen, drum up discussions on what you’re wearing, interviews about your new project and mingle with celebrities and designers that you haven’t spoken to before. You’d much rather be at home on your couch, eating queso and tacos from an Uber eats order in your pajamas but…

You guess there’s always time for that later.

You’ve definitely been to worse events; this one at least has decent drinks and the people there aren’t altogether insufferable. No one asks you about what happened between you and Austin, which is a blessing…after the breakup, it seemed to be what everyone wanted to talk about. You actually get questions about your films, upcoming projects, and some personal preferences about where you like to vacation, or, other events you’ve been to lately that have peaked your interests.

One of the things you’ve been enjoying about tonight is, for one, the weather is clear and crisp—one of your favorite temperatures outside (yes, of course you’ve got favorites...anyone who says they don’t is a liar). You’re wearing a long-sleeved navy-blue dress tonight, mesh inserts in the sides, paired with black heels. It’s perfect for you to slip outside onto the roof of the building; another thing that’s ticking all your boxes with this fashion show is that it’s on the top floor of this beautiful place downtown. It overlooks the city, bright lights sparkling against a blanket of darkness, and you draw a deep breath into your lungs as you sneak out.

Not many people are interested, given the weather, but you can’t get enough of it. Evading the buzz of conversations and questions, you feel yourself level out as you take a sip of wine and wander across the balcony-roof, head tipped slightly back to look at the sky.

Not to mention, an escape is exactly what you need right now—you’re pretty sure you saw Randy milling around in there, definitely would like to avoid him if you can help it. One blind date was enough, no need for a repeat. Leaning against the banister, you let your arms hang over as you look down at the city—part of you wonders what the people below are doing, small cars drifting across streets, little dots of city dwellers moving in and out of spaces that your eye can barely see or make out. Wild Friday nights or attempting to make it home to loved ones? Searching for that late night junk-food itch or maybe catching the subway to a twenty-four-hour gym. So many possibilities.

You wonder if anyone below is looking up, thinking who might be on the top of this building. A lonely actress, drinking wine.

You don’t hear the footsteps approach you from behind, but you do turn at the familiar voice, “What is it with you and rooftops?”

Smiling a little, your eyes drink in Austin because of course he’s here. You probably should have assumed, he’s got his fingers on the pulse of the celebrity scene lately, Elvis has exploded his career in a bunch of different ways. Not to mention the relationship with you—he’s kind of wanted everywhere and you have to admit that it’s working in your favor tonight.

It’s really nice to see him.

“Maybe I just know this is a guaranteed spot to find me.”

He hums, putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He’s got a simple outfit on, yet he’s stunning. Black slacks, cherry red shoes, a black mesh shirt with one red pocket square. Unfair, really, to look so beautiful without any effort put into it.

“You makin’ it easy for me?” Austin asks, coming to lean on the railing next you.

You shrug your one shoulder, taking a sip of your wine. “Maybe,” You repeat, “Here you are.” You don’t automatically mean for it to sound like…you’re thinking about how easy it’d be for him to associate rooftops with you, for Austin to find you here if he was looking. And yet it’d definitely be a plus.

Austin smiles a little, chewing on his lower lip as he glances behind both of you to the event going on. You wonder if he’s got someone waiting for him inside as he stepped out for fresh air. Pursing your lips, you drag your thumb along the railing—so many things you want to say and yet no idea how to get them out of your mouth.

“You flyin’ solo tonight?” He asks.

You glance back up at him, nodding, “Yeah, I’ve decided it’s the best way to approach these things—totally no strings attached.” Not trying to throw shade or anything, towards Nate, him, Randy…you’re just kinda done with the whole dating thing for right now. Got other things you could be focusing on that’s not going to drive you completely crazy.

Austin hums, “Thought you might be avoidin’ what’s his name, uh—Randy?”

You laugh outright, the sound blanketed in a bit of surprise. God, absolutely not. He smirks at your reaction, leaning right into teasing you,

“Oh what, you’re not with him tonight?” He’s grinning, baiting.

“God no, how did you—” You start but then you remember that Austin was outside the bar that night when you’d had that terrible blind date.

And then he says something else that surprises you, “What? I’m all caught up on celebrity gossip—I skim the tabloids.”

You raise your eyebrows, your stomach flip-flopping in a way you wish it wouldn’t, “Checkin’ up on me?”

While there’s this whisper of a thrill inside of you about him keeping tabs on you, you know better than to run away with that idea. Despite spending all this additional time with Austin, pretending to be with him, it doesn’t mean you actually know him any better.

You thought you did, or could.

“Maybe,” He replies, pulling you from your thoughts by bumping your shoulders together. “You tryin’ to tell me you’re not reading up on me? Lookin’ at Instagram stories? Bookmarking articles?”

You let out a slow breath, the air fluttering your hair a little bit. You feel like you don’t even have to respond to that because he’ll see right through your façade—clearly you’ve been just as curious as he is. While Austin’s joking, teasing, flirting with you, it doesn’t make what he’s asking any less pointed.

Despite answers you both know are true, you find yourself shaking your head. “You wish.” A soft laugh follows, breaking apart any tension that might linger.

There’s a soft comfortable silence that follows, to which Austin gives a soft nod, a smile still on his handsome face. He looks out at the city, the breeze coasting across the roof playing with the tufts of blonde curls on his head. There’s this deep ache to touch him, to be close with him again, to feel the same way you felt when you were categorizing everything as ‘fake’—just so ironic.

“Yeah,” He says after a moment, “I do wish…actually.”

You swallow, really unsure what to do with that. There’s this distinct sensation of butterflies turning into bats in your stomach and moving into your chest, wings grazing against bone. You don’t understand, why is he doing this? Saying things like this? You thought he was pretty clear before the breakup that he regretted this whole thing happening in the first place. He didn’t say those exact words, but he might as well have. The hurt you felt was the same.

There are questions that you want to ask building on your tongue, heartbeat pounding in your ears because you don’t think Austin is like that—treating this as one big joke, flirting with you because he’s bored, because he enjoys causing waves, getting underneath people’s skin.

Glancing down at your abandoned glass of wine, you attempt to shift the conversation, clearing your throat, “You uh—didn’t come with anyone either?”

Austin shakes his head, standing to his full height to look at you, “Nah, the person I really wanted to go with, I wasn’t sure she’d be comin’ tonight.”

That response is enough to send you right over the edge, your feelings for him still so strong and prominent and it’s really unfair of him to yank your chain like this. What, is this just a game to him? Are your emotions just things he can play with? The last thing you want to do is assume you know exactly how he’s feeling but…how are you supposed to think about anything other than that night on the balcony?

At the end of the day this was just what we said it was, right? Fake relationship? PR stunt?

And yeah, maybe you had begun to repair what was left of a friendship that had bloomed in-between all that but—

You let out an overwhelmed breath, shaking your head as you turn to go back inside. You can’t do this. “Excuse me.”

Austin reaches for your elbow, gently keeping you in place, “Wait, Y/N—please.”

“Please what?” You snap, pulling back from him.

You don’t understand what he could possibly say to you right now and you’re not sure you want to hear him anyways. Things between you were good, they were decent, on the way to repairing what was broken and possibly becoming friends after this—something that was actually real. And then he goes and stirs up all these old emotions, ripping scabs off of healing wounds, capable of drawing you completely back in.

“Can I just—” And for the first time in a while, Austin seems flustered, like this might not actually work out in his favor. But his tone is calm and patient, trying—and for some reason that sounds a whole lot like your grandmother’s voice in your head telling you to give him a chance, even if he might not deserve one. You don’t move. You slowly cross your arms across your chest, almost like a shield.

Closing your eyes a moment, suddenly tired about all of this, “Austin—there’s nothing left to say. I think we covered everything that night on the balcony.”

“No,” He shakes his head, “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, I was—ashamed about what I’d said to you, all that other stuff afterwards just came out.”

You frown, your eyebrows drawing together as he talks because…you remember those words like a knife; sharp, unyielding. You remember the sting on your palm after slapping him across the face—he’d created so much distance between you in such a short amount of time after that. And you understand, in a way, wanting to run from words sitting in the air, from the regret of even putting them out there in the first place.

But…

“It doesn’t matter,” You murmur, curling your hair around your ear.

“It does matter,” Austin insists, taking a step towards you. “It matters to me—you matter to me.”

You can feel yourself trembling and it has nothing to do with the cold breeze passing over the rooftop. You draw your arms tighter around yourself, attempting to swallow down the bout of emotions that intend on completely drowning you. Everything in your body is telling you to reply the same way, that he matters to you too, that he always has despite everything getting so fucked up and lost. That you knew that was exactly how you felt the moment he asked about your grandmother, when he showed up at your family home when there was no obligation for him to do so, when he pulled you close and kissed you in that bathroom of his friend’s place. How you can still hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear from resting your head on his chest, feel his hands on your skin, the heat of his kiss between your thighs.

How you feel about him is intoxicating and it hasn’t faded, even though you’ve tried to tell yourself it has.

You realize that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice—and you either need to forgive him or completely close the door that was reopening between you two.

You draw in a soft breath, “So you…you regret it then?” A pause, “Breaking up?”

Austin holds your gaze for a long moment before shaking his head, “I don’t regret breakin’ up our fake relationship,” And that’s…that’s not what you expected him to say. You can feel your own face fall—

“Because I’d really want to date you—for real.”

It takes a moment for it to register what Austin is actually saying to you, but once it does, a laugh spills from your lips—something genuine and warm. And well, there’s nothing else to do but go with your gut, right?

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” You tease.

Austin grins, taking a chance step forward to wrap his arms around you in a hug. You allow him to pull you close, your eyes fluttering closed as you fit perfectly underneath his chin. It feels like a part of you is coming home, the shell of your ear resting against his chest, the scent of his sandalwood cologne achingly familiar. You can’t help but turn your face a bit into him, nose and lips brushing along the soft material of his shirt. His arms automatically squeeze you tighter, his head dipping to press a kiss into your hair.

Deciding to do this could be an incredibly terrible idea but at least you’ll be figuring out how to wade through it together.

That’s all you can really ask for and honestly? all that you really want. To be on the same page, finally, with no strings attached.

Once that fashion show passes, your relationship is once again pushed in the center of public attention. Photos of you two leaving the event wrapped up in one another circulate quickly, articles are written, BuzzFeed titles are made, Tumblr posts are drafted, Instagram stories are posted. Your careers begin to spin, that very same night Christina sends screenshots of emails for interviews and updates and asks the serious question of: is it real? Nothing brings more pleasure to you than telling her yes. She sends back pleased emojis and lets you know that press and obligations can wait—to just enjoy Austin and reconnecting what you felt had been lost.

There’s late night sharing of food on your apartment balcony, too many laughs and kisses to count.

And falling back into bed with him is one of the easiest things you’ve ever done.

Austin’s been pretty straightforward about PDA—he clearly doesn’t mind it or feels like you have to tone anything down, no matter where you are. It’s kinda refreshing because you know a lot of other men that you’ve been with (no offense to Nate) weren’t like that. Austin’s not shy about it—he’d wrap his arms around you from behind while in a line at a café, move to sit next to you at a restaurant to put an arm around your shoulders or share a kiss, his hands would travel while walking around doing something as mundane as errands—on your lower back, your waist, your hips, your ass. And then at events? Always a hand on you somehow, touching your waist, arm, shoulders, sometimes your face to draw you into a kiss.

When the relationship wasn’t real, you thought he was going through all these obvious, purposeful gestures because he knew people were watching.

Apparently this is just who Austin is because as soon as you begin seeing one another again? it starts back up like clockwork.

You suppose it shouldn’t feel so ironic that, essentially, things between you feel the same—that you fall back into similar patterns and states of being with one another. There was more truth than fiction in your relationship before than either of you wanted to admit.

Attending an event for one of your films, the carpet is busy with rows of a mixture of photographers, interviewers and fans. Austin helps out a lot with the dress you’re wearing—definitely your stylist’s idea even though you kinda love it. It’s long and sheer, iridescent in a way but covering you in the spots that matter. Your hair is softly curled, sitting on your shoulders and makeup matching the soft hues in your dress. It’s a banger, you’re obsessed, but also at the same time? Slightly nervous you’re gonna get tripped up and fall on your ass in front of everyone.

“I won’t let that happen,” Austin assures before you even get out of the car, “I got you.” He grins, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your lips. While the support is appreciated, this is also the same man that keeps teasing you that you look like a ‘mermaid stranded on land’. So.

His suit is completely black, which works well with the soft glow your dress has in certain lighting—a striking pair. You almost wish you could have worn more sensible shoes, but the look wouldn’t have been complete, not even to mention that the length wouldn’t have allowed it. Once you’re on the carpet, slowly making your way towards where pictures will be taken, Austin keeps an eye on the small train of your dress. He keeps it from getting tied up and so you’re not stepping on it either.

You smile up at him when you get to the line of photographs right before you enter the event, which sometimes can feel so long. He stands next to you, a soft laugh leaving your lips as he moves just to flutter out your dress. You can tell the photographers are eating that up, shutters snapping and bulbs flashing. He wraps an arm around your waist and poses for photos and sometimes you allow yourself a glance up—he’s so unbelievably handsome, it’s like a hand reaching directly into your gut and squeezing.

“Y/N! Y/N over here! Over here.” And sometimes the photographers are vocal like that, wanting their shot.

But you can’t take your eyes off Austin.

He eventually looks down at you, a soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth—more genuine, intimate, something just for you. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, and regardless of how public it is, you can feel the world around you fizzle into the distance. You’re constantly losing yourself in the pressure of his touch, the blueness of his eyes, the warmth of his kiss.

There are a few interviewers that you make sure to stop to along the way, people that you recognize before in the interview circuit, that have proven to ask great questions, a bit personal when they need to be, and never overly rude or pushy. Austin trails a bit behind as he speaks to some as well, seeking some fans out who keep grabbing his attention to sign things or pose for selfies.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Kathy from Entertainment Weekly says. You smile back at the familiar face, a shy laugh that you sometimes automatically feel in front of the camera, despite practice, sneaking out of your chest.

“Thank you, it’s nice to see you again.”

Kathy smiles, genuinely touched to be remembered, “You too. I see you’re here with your boyfriend, Austin Butler—who’s looking dashingly handsome tonight.”

You smile a little, glancing over your shoulder towards Austin as he pauses for some photos. The lights from the camera flashes bounce attractively against the all-black suit, somehow making the gold in his curls a shade darker, his eyes an ocean blue.

You can’t help but take in a soft breath, “He is,” You agree, giving your attention back to Kathy.

“I have to ask—” And you can almost feel this question coming, “It was rumored that you and Austin actually started dating because of a big PR move between your agents—is there any truth to that?”

To your credit, you’re pretty sure your face gives nothing away. You’re trying to figure out the best way to even approach this question, your mouth opening and a short breath being drawn into your lungs. The moment you begin to talk, Austin comes up beside you, his arm absentmindedly slipping around your waist,

“How you doin’ Kathy?” He asks, recognizing her as well. And she grins while shaking his hand. “What question are we askin’?”

You tip your chin to look up at him, a smile tugging the corners of your mouth, “Oh you know—the usual, whether we were in a fake relationship a few months ago.”

Austin raises his eyebrows, a laugh rumbling in his chest that you can feel with your proximity rather than hear, “Now who on earth would believe somethin’ like that?”

Your cheeks flush pink as you smile at him, a giddiness traveling up into your ribcage from your belly. The rest of the interview continues seamlessly, even if you’re not sure if Kathy believed what either of you have said. You suppose it doesn’t matter—nothing does outside of the narrative that you two have for your relationship.

Once inside and there’s a small window of privacy, Austin turns and leans down, drawing you into another kiss. You wrap your arms around his waist, keeping him close, smiling against his lips.

In the beginning of this, you were overwhelmed that this was going to be a huge mistake, a waste, a distraction from finding something that was ‘real’.

Turns out that 'something real' was in front of you this whole time.

Thank you for reading :) I appreciate love and support for this series, meant a lot!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #mas series #mas

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jiminsass-istant · 4 months

Text

Dipping my feet into a pile of dogsh*t again: JM Tattoo discourse

Okay I absolutely hate bringing this up again, and I wish I could physically, gently hold jkkers hands when they type about this topic again. Maybe hold them hands and look into your eyes with a pleading look. Let's put an end to this, shall we?

One, if you are choosing to 100% believe JK's own words, you are doing the right thing and you can stop reading this as you have already made up your mind.

Now that they are gone, let's consider these facts:

1. JK is an artist. No, he's like a real proper painter and everything. A good one at that. Have you seen him digitally making letters with that cartoonish font? Yeah.

2. JK is a videographer, video editor, photographer, vlogger even. And he's good. You must have heard of GCFs right?

3. Before tattoos are made, your tattoo artist will give you a preview of how they would look. At least you yourself would think and visualise how it would look on your hands. A very visible part of your body. He knew how it would look and be perceived.

4. Crossword formation: JK has a crossword tattoo on his arm. Even primary school children can solve crosswords you know.

5. The JM: Jimin has used "#JM" and "#JMJK" on bts_twt posts since forever. JM in relation to BTS has always been short for Jimin. I don't think I need to bring up the fact the n number of times JK has referred to Jimin as JM.

6. JK is a man of few words. He doesn't churn out lyrics or words or life changing sentences like RM on the daily. His form of expression has mostly been art, music, videos, tattoos, outfits.

About the implications of the tattoo if it is indeed about Jimin:

1. Why would an idol ever reveal that he has his bandmate's name tattooed on his arm if he knows there are very serious shippers in the fandom who would definitely blow this up till the media puts out an article next day?

2. What's wrong with having a bandmate's name on your hand? Now this part is most important to me.

What's wrong with having the name of a man on your hands? The same man with whom he spent some of the worst and best times of his life over the past 10+ years. The same person who JK has repeatedly implied understands him, "we click", and spends a whole lot of time together for a fact. The same person JK goes to spend time with, to share silence and do nothing, after a gruelling day of rehearsals and photoshoots. The same person who he trusts enough to take care of his mental health for possibly the most difficult time of his life for 18 months. If I loved tattoos and had a friend like that, I wouldn't hesitate to tattoo their name on me either.

I heard that 2 members from Ateez, who consider themselves bffs and soulmates also have matching tattoos. There you go. It's not that weird now, is it?

"Then why didn't JK just admit it was for JM?"

Simply because he didn't want to. They are very very aware of the media. Not just k-media. Global media as well. Imagine how the fandom would react if he was that biased towards just 1 member. They'll be doing the usual SCT (screaming, crying, throwing up).

I'll put the JM tattoo issue on the same shelf as GCF tokyo. Something he did despite knowing the implications and how it would be perceived. But did it anyway. JK just does the stuff he wants to, guys. High time you all realise that.

I'm not the type of person who is easily swayed by theories. Either a theory makes sense or it does not. If there are no huge gaps in a theory, it makes sense to me. This is one of those.

Remember how people said JK was lying on Suchwita when he was asked the 'dream' question by Suga and replied he wasn't aware of this segment... because he watched the entire Jimin Suchwita? WRONG. He didn't watch the entire one. In the last segment of Suchwita, our JK was already distracted and went to the kitchen to do something. Then he came back for the ending scene. He actually didn't know about the last questions Suga asks his guests. This is one example of why you shouldn't go with everything the jkkers say.

Anyhoo...i digress.

Final thoughts:

The fandom and even shippers didn't react this strongly when people came up with the BS theory about how the tattoos represented all members. That theory became BS right when JK said that he wished the letters in 'army' tattoo weren't so minimal. The 'A' without the line in the middle was never 'V'. If JK had foresight, the 'A' would have had the line, maybe with a tail and horns on it and flames coming out. You know what I mean. The OT7 theory went out the window just like that.

Just because there's a possibility it means 'JM', doesn't prove or disprove they are 'real'. What it does prove is that they are the best and closest duo in Bangtan. They don't care how their actions towards each other are perceived because they are THAT secure about their friendship/bond. Jimin didn't care when he openly admitted multiple times in 2020 that he spent nights with JK, woke up and saw JK etc. Neither did JK care when he keeps saying they do nothing at night (once in the early years (2014-15), another time when he was asked about the most memorable time of the tokyo trip and it was jm playing all night on phone, and most recently - going to Jimin's room for no reason other than to do nothing (during PTD)).

PS: (fanfic alert)

Jimin notices the JM formation on JK's hands for the first time.

"JM!?.. you love me so much JK. "

"It's not what you think. J is for ...umm JK".

"Where's the K then?"

"......"

"It's okay bro, I'll write a song for you one day. That's how I'll repay this gesture, bro."

"Would you feature me in it?"

"So you admit it's JM??"

"NO!!!"

~~~

#jikook #kookmin

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magicshopaholic · 1 year

Text

So Many Signs (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: Dilara tries to ignore the obvious, while Taehyung finally loses his cool.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 13 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, sexism, mention of assault, infidelity, longing, heartbreak

A/N: I didn’t think I’d be posting this so soon but I do want to reach a certain point in their story before I continue posting for other members. This one’s long, but I hope you like it! It takes place about a week after Chingu.

This is also a submission for the 2023 K-Pop Fanfic Bingo Event “The Sound of Music”, using the square with one of my favourite childhood songs, Moon Glow by Benny Goodman.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @ananya1398 @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “moon glow” by benny goodman

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

It’s close to the end of the calendar once the Portuguese GP rolls around. It seems to have awoken both PR teams as well, for the schedule suddenly tightens up and two photoshoots, one advertisement and a Run episode filming are all squeezed into a single week.

The first of the photoshoots takes place in a nice, leafy garden in the outskirts of Portimao, rented for the entire day for the shoot. For once, the participants from the F1 side of things nearly match the BTS members in number, with not just the Red Bull drivers there, but also the AlphaTauri ones, along with Max’s girlfriend Kelly accompanying them.

Maybe it’s the peace of the outdoors; maybe it’s the fact that on the plane ride over, Dilara had a front row seat to the view of Taehyung sleeping as he hugged a pillow. Either way, for the first time in forever, Dilara realises she isn’t counting down the minutes until the shoot is over.

The next day, the Thursday before the race weekend, the same day BTS is meant to join as well, she goes for an early morning run at the paddock before her own team PR begins for the day. A Run episode is meant to be filmed on the circuit and wrap up before the other drivers arrive, and Dilara watches as the crew sets up at top speed, even before the members arrive.

After her run, she’s getting a glass of water in the Red Bull enclosure when she feels someone come up behind her. When she turns, she almost spills the water on herself when she sees maybe three inches of distance between her and Jaden Park.

“Shit!” she mutters, taking a step back right into the water cooler. Jaden grabs her arm to steady her and, when she tries to take it back, doesn’t let go for a moment. Dilara’s heart skips a beat but then he drops her arm and sort of forces a smile onto his face.

It does nothing to comfort her, and she suddenly wishes more than ever that Chris or Fred were here. “Hi - hi… Jaden,” she stammers, taking a deep breath to slow her heart.

“Hey.” Jaden shoves his hands into his pockets. “I, um… I saw you last night.”

“Excuse me?”

“At Albert’s Bar?” He nods, assuming her acknowledgment. “You were with BTS, right?”

Fuck. Aside from the fact that she had stepped out for drinks with her housemates the previous night that now seems to have been seen by people, she thinks she can predict what Jaden’s line of thinking is with this.

“Um… yeah, Max and all of us did a photoshoot with them yesterday, so we went out for a drink after,” she tells him, pleasantly surprised at how normal she sounds.

“That’s nice. Feel up to going again?” He cocks one eyebrow and gives her a small smile.

Unsurprised and unimpressed, she exhales. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jaden,” she says firmly, not in the mood to try and let him down easy. She moves to walk past him but he blocks her way. Heart hammering, she looks up at him, slightly incredulous. “What are you doing?”

“So you can have a drink with seven guys but not one with me?” he asks, that strange frown still on his face.

Dilara scoffs. “I wasn’t having a drink with seven guys, I went out for drinks with a few colleagues,” she clarifies through gritted teeth, part of her wondering why she’s even giving this guy an explanation. “It wasn’t a date.”

“You really made up your mind about me after one date?” he demands, frowning. “It's… I mean, you're free to reject me if you don't like me but…" He shrugs, "... this just seems unfair."

She raises her eyebrows. "Listen, Jaden," she continues quickly, now reaching the end of her fuse, "I told you, alright? It's nothing to do with you. I'm just not dating. And I'd really appreciate it if we didn't have this conversation again." She moves to walk away again and, yet again, he steps in front of her.

"Then what is it? The least you can do is give me an explanation, Dilara." He's dropped all pretense of politeness, practically glaring at her now.

She stares at him, contemplating. There's a hundred things she can rip into this guy regarding his behaviour, but she knows there's only one thing that will work with a guy like him - she hopes.

"Look, I…" Dilara exhales, heavily resenting that she has to do this, "when you asked me out, I'd just got out of a relationship, okay? It was complicated and - and I was still working my way through it. There’s - there’s another guy," she clarifies, disgusted yet unsurprised at the sudden understanding on his face.

"So… I was, what? A rebound?"

"No," she says immediately, sensing a bruised ego. "I didn't realise I was still… not over it until we went out. And I didn't want to lead you on any further," she explains, suddenly realising she’s not totally lying.

"Right." Jaden nods, jaw clenched. "And, uh… this guy. Your ex. Is he here? Is he in F1?"

It's a complicated answer, but Dilara is out of patience with him. "I don't think that's important," she says hastily, wanting to shut down whatever man-to-man ape nonsense is going on in his head at the earliest. "And, uh… yeah. So I think we can just put this behind us now? And be colleagues? Great," she says in one quick breath, and without waiting for him to respond, she sidles away, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

It rankles Dilara all day, how entitled some men are and how only the mention of another man can get them to back down. She takes it out on all the men around her, refusing to pass Max a bottle of water when he asks, and later in the afternoon, sniping at a reporter for asking her how she manages her personal life. She knows she’s not a good person to be around right now so when she goes back to the house, she heads straight away to the home gym to work out some of her frustrations before she snaps at someone else.

It works; she over indexes on the weights and barbells, working up a good sweat. She loses track of time, too; when she glances out of the window towards the end of her session, the sky is a dark indigo, almost black, and she feels a light and cool breeze blowing in, feeling incredible against her damp skin.

She runs into Jimin as she’s leaving, who offers her a can of beer and a smile.

“It’s a race weekend,” she says in explanation, her hands still in her pockets.

“You drank last night,” he points out.

“Exactly. I think I maxed out my quota of booze for the week. Especially booze with this many calories,” she adds, tapping the can and moving to walk past him.

“No worries,” he says easily, falling into step beside her. The walk to the house is a few minutes away; Jimin manages to keep the silence going for about half a minute before speaking again.

“I don’t mean to… what’s the word? Pry?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I don’t mean to pry, but… you and Taehyung seemed to be getting along well yesterday.”

Dilara looks up after a moment, surprised to see how hopeful his smile is. “Was that a question?” she asks after a moment.

“Um…” He looks mildly confused for a second. “Not really. It was nice, that’s all.”

She nods, not knowing what else to say. The last thing she wants is to mislead anyone - especially when she has no idea what she wants herself.

“Does that mean you’re…” Jimin trails off but when Dilara doesn’t respond, he sighs uncomfortably. “Do you think you might… I mean, will you two be okay?”

Deliberately not looking up at him, she responds carefully. “What does okay mean?”

“Just…” The leaves under their feet crunch in the silence. “Will you go back to normal?”

They’ve almost reached the house. She stops in her tracks a few feet away from the porch. “And by normal you mean… before we broke up?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a moment, and it’s apparent he’s already regretting bringing it up. “Maybe? It’s just… I mean, what more needs to happen? He can’t take it back, you know… what he did.”

“I do know,” she says forcefully. “And, yeah, a lot more needs to happen. Starting with him having this conversation himself,” she mutters, starting to walk away when he pulls her back. Startled at the second time today, she jerks back.

“S-sorry. Just… God, please don’t tell him about this,” he begs, eyes wide. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then why are you? Is he that miserable to be around?”

“Oh, yeah.” A brief smile flashes across his face before it fades. “But it’s not just him, okay? When I said it was nice seeing you together yesterday… I mean it was nice to see you like that, too.” His gaze falls slightly. “I think we’re friends, too, right?”

Dilara frowns, for she hasn’t the faintest where this conversation is going. “I - sure. But if you’re asking me if us having a conversation yesterday without breaking down means we’re going to get back together… then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Jimin sighs and nods. “I know it doesn’t. But… I don’t know, are you waiting for something?”

There’s something about that question that makes her bristle. “Waiting for something? Like I’m just sitting here, waiting for him to prove himself and pass some test so I can take him back? Do you think I’m having fun or something?”

“That’s not what I -”

“Because the answer is no, Jimin. No, I am not waiting for anything. I waited enough, alright?” she reminds him. “I waited a long time for him to say something before I blocked him and made sure he never could. All I’m doing right now is just… I’m just trying to not be so angry anymore. Because it’s not helping anyone.”

She starts walking backwards towards the house as Jimin processes this response, hoping he gets it. Just as she’s about to turn, he looks up.

“I’m sorry, Dilara. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry. That’s my whole point.”

He raises his eyebrows but thankfully lets it go. “Fine. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

Dilara nods. “I’m not waiting for anything,” she repeats after a moment, a little calmer. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not… hoping for something.”

Jimin frowns. “Like what?”

She bites her lip before sighing. “Like - like a sign. Maybe. This is not an easy decision - not least because I don’t even know what he wants. It’s -” But she’s interrupted by his scoff.

“Come on, I’m sure even Max Verstappen knows what Taehyung wants,” he tells her, laughing softly.

Dilara narrows her eyes. “I wouldn’t take his word about this. He’s too complicated for me to guess.”

“Max?”

“No, T- you’re… V,” she stutters, rolling her eyes at the blatant slip. “He can’t just waltz back into my life because a PR plan forced me to let him back in.” She starts walking backwards again, careful not to miss the steps on the porch. “That’s what’s always happened. He’s just had to sit back and everything has fallen into place for him. I need an indication, at least, that it’s different this time. I don’t know what that is, I don’t know what it’ll look like… but I need -”

“A sign.” Jimin nods, looking at least somewhat as though he understands what she means. “I get it.”

“Good.” Hoping the conversation ends here, she turns on the spot and opens the door, almost getting a heart attack when she sees Taehyung standing there and pulling on a jacket.

“What - How did you -”

“Gwaenchanha?”

It takes her a moment to be able to answer as she catches her breath. “No, not really,” she gasps, wondering if all the men on the planet have planned to constantly startle her wherever she is. “I - were you standing here this whole time?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. A lock of blond hair falls elegantly onto his forehead, the rest of his face absolutely still. “What do you mean?”

Dilara stares at him, suddenly mortified at the thought of him overhearing her talk to Jimin about this, or worse, her need for a sign. “I mean… you know what I mean,” she finishes lamely.

“Not really.” He glances at Jimin behind her and nods in acknowledgment before turning back to her. “The team wants to take a couple of extra shots at night, so I’m heading there with Jungkook. You want to come?”

He asks so casually, as though he’s asking her if she wants to go to the grocery store with him, that her heart flutters unexpectedly. “I - your staff won’t like that,” is her first response, before she cringes inwardly. “And also… no. No… thank you.”

Taehyung nods, looking as though he expected it. “No problem. I’ll see you later.”

Dilara watches him leave in silence, his gait cool and smooth as he passes by Jimin, murmuring something in Korean before heading out. She tries to count herself lucky; it doesn’t seem as though he’d overhead her - but if he has, she may as well just begin avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of her life.

Jimin, apparently waiting for Taehyung to be fully out of earshot this time, grins at her. “That kind of sign?”

“No,” she says immediately, entering the house. “Never that kind of sign.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, following her into the house and shutting the door behind him. “It’s him - he’s the sign,” he explains dramatically.

Dilara gives him a pointed look, stopping at the door to her bedroom. “Never that kind of sign.”

—

The next day when Dilara sees BTS in the paddock, her gaze goes straight to Taehyung and Jimin. They're walking next to each other, albeit talking to members on their other sides. She tries to look elsewhere; it's officially race weekend again and she can't afford to be distracted. It's hard, though, because her situation with Taehyung is complicated enough; the last thing she wants is for a private conversation to have been overheard by him, however accidental it may have been.

So Dilara avoids them all day, all of them. She tries not to make it obvious because she’s glad that they’re all finally getting back on decent terms, so she opts to spend time in the garage with the rest of the team, going over free practice times and tyre strategies for Qualifying tomorrow. Even when Jaden Park, who's supposed to be in Max's garage and not hers, accidentally-on-purpose bumps into her and she notices Seokjin looking at them and frowning, she keeps her goal in mind and handles it herself.

It’s a success, for the most part. Her car feels fantastic and the paddock generally seems more lively this weekend for some reason; she doesn’t know if it has to do with the nice weather or the fact that Portimao is generally an exciting race every year. Either way, it’s good for her because in her effort to avoid BTS and give them their space, she ends up spending time with all the other drivers.

Later in the evening, when the paddock is emptying out, Dilara is on her way to the Red Bull conference room for a team briefing when she gets a notification from Jimin. Heart hammering slightly, she swipes it open.

Jimin [19:52] Dilara. Please stop avoiding him because of me.

Dilara [19:53] I’m not? Why would you think that?

Jimin [19:53] Have you said anything to him at all today?

Dilara [19:54] I have gone many many days without saying a single word to him. Did you by any chance tell him what we talked about yesterday?

Jimin [19:56] Of course not. Please don’t avoid him because of that. He’s really confused - I can tell.

Dilara [19:56] Jimin. I’m not avoiding him. Really. I just don’t know what to say to him, to be very honest.

Jimin [19:57] What? Things were getting so much better between you two.

Dilara [19:58] Well, sure. We weren’t throwing things at each other and screaming anymore. That’s a pretty low bar.

Jimin [19:58] Fair enough. Will you be joining us for dinner?

Dilara [19:59] Not sure. I have to go for a briefing. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Jimin [20:00] Want me to tell him to pick you up? You guys could talk.

Dilara [20:00] Omg NO. Jimin!

Jimin [20:00} What? He’ll be happy to do it.

Dilara [20:01] I’m sure he would. Look, Jimin, I know you feel guilty about your part in this, okay? If this is your way of trying to help - you’re off the hook. I forgive you.

Jimin [20:02] Really?

Dilara [20:02] Yes.

There’s no response. Dilara slows down slightly, wondering if her hunch is actually right. She’d only said that to shut him up, but his silence seems to indicate otherwise.

Then -

Jimin [20:05] Did you kiss last week?

Dilara [20:06] I fucking beg your pardon?

Jimin [20:07] Hobi hyung said he saw you guys hugging. If I remember correctly, you two had no problem going further than that in public.

Dilara [20:08] Jimin. Shut up.

Jimin [20:09] Just a question. Jeez.

Dilara [20:09] I dare you to go ask him this.

Jimin [20:10] Well played.

Dilara [20:11] Look, Jimin, I have to go. Just… I’m not avoiding him, okay? And even if it seems like it, it’s probably for the best.

When Jimin doesn’t reply, she breathes a silent sigh of relief. She’s almost at the conference room now and she’s getting late, but she needs to know this conversation is closed. Then, just when she thinks she can move on with her day, a picture pops up on the chat. It’s of Taehyung, shockingly, in the backyard with his blond hair catching the setting sun as he points - her heart skips a beat - the Polaroid she’d gifted him at the horizon.

Realising with a start that she’s been staring at it for almost a minute, Dilara types out a reply, fingers shaking slightly.

Dilara [20:15] What am I looking at?

Jimin [20:15] He’s been out there for an hour now. He looks like he’s in a k-drama.

If by that he means that Taehyung looks tall, handsome and tragic all at once, he’s right. Dilara feels a familiar rush of mild envy and pride all at once, and knows she needs to nip this in the bud.

Dilara [20:16] Well, he certainly acts well enough to be in one. I have to go. I’ll see you later.

All through the briefing, Dilara can’t help but think that her decision to avoid them is for the best, if Jimin’s reaction is anything to go by. Even after the briefing, she dilly-dallies near the enclosure, wondering how to kill even more time before she has no choice but to head back to the house.

Dilara sighs and glances down at her phone. It’s barely seven; she can’t hang around here for five hours… she looks around, wondering if she can possibly hang around with her pit crew to fix her car or something, when she suddenly catches sight of a small group of them and sees Jaden Park in the middle of it. Her heart in her mouth at how narrowly she’s avoided him, she turns the opposite way and starts walking towards the parking lot.

Then, a miracle happens.

Dilara’s phone pings and she groans softly, not in the mood for more of Jimin’s guilt trip. Honestly, she’s glad that her confession of sorts seems to have indeed been kept from Taehyung, but she’s more convinced than ever that both of them need this space to clear their heads.

Max [22:40] Komyshan. Heading out for a bite with Daniel, Lando and Charles. You’re coming, right?

Her heart leaps and she thinks if her taste were slightly different, she could kiss Max Verstappen. She types out a reply, not even trying to suppress the relieved smile she can feel on her face. Rapidly saying a quick yes, she skips over to the parking lot.

As she nears it, she feels something nagging at her, tugging at her heart. She reopens her chat with Jimin, slowly scrolling up until she finds it.

He’s really confused - I can tell.

There is no reason this should evoke any sympathy in her. She should want him to feel bad for everything he did, but that angry part of her feels like a past version, like a person she used to know. If anything, she knows how he feels, with the confusion - and she realises it’s not sympathy, but empathy she’s starting to feel for him, especially if he’s had Jimin breathing down his neck the entire time as well.

Dilara scrolls further down to the picture Jimin sent her of Taehyung; of course he looks like a model, like a stock photo. Perfect body proportions, perfect jawline silhouette, perfectly falling hair, capturing perfect pictures, looking perfectly heartbroken.

She sighs again, struggling. Things were getting so much better with you two. It’s the validation she didn’t know she needed. She recalls how his unexpected appearance behind the front door had taken her breath away last night.

Feeling apprehensive, she opens her chat with Taehyung to see only two messages, from the night Chris visited. She bites her lip, deciding that she needs to tell someone where she is anyway or they’re bound to get worried. Thumb hovering over the keyboard momentarily, she types out a message.

Dilara [22:50] I’m going out with some of the guys. Not sure when I’ll be back but let’s talk later?

Dilara hits send and immediately panics. Talk? Talk about what? She groans out loud, attracting the attention of her fellow drivers. When Max calls out “Komyshan!”, she waves back tiredly and walks towards them. After they’re all strapped in and Charles is reversing out of the parking lot, she receives a reply.

Tae [22:52] I’ll be waiting.

---

He isn’t, not exactly.

It actually ends up being an extremely late night for them; Dilara and her friends go back to the same club that she’d gone to with BTS two nights ago and although they don’t drink nearly as much and definitely don’t dance, it ends up being a pretty fun night overall and actually succeeds in making her forget about her love life for a couple of hours. When it’s finally time to go, it’s almost one in the morning, just as she’d hoped.

Dilara is pleasantly surprised when Max drops off the other three before driving her back to the house, remembering that they can’t let the group’s location be revealed to anyone. They don’t talk about it, thankfully, but when he stops the car and she’s about to open the door, he finally speaks.

“How’s it going, by the way?” Max points to the house. “Are you two good now?”

She shrugs. “No idea, honestly.”

He frowns, looking mildly curious. “Oh. Looked like everything was fine at the photoshoot the other day. You two looked like you were sneaking around again.”

We were? Dilara’s confusion must show on her face, for Max chuckles. “Obviously, I’m wrong. Anyway,” he says abruptly, and she takes that as her cue to step out, “good luck for tomorrow. Go get some sleep.”

When she enters the house, it’s to see all seven members huddled on the sofa, with Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok sitting on the back of the couch. She frowns and stares as the door clicks shut behind her, wondering why on earth they feel the need to pile on top of each other while there are two more perfectly comfortable couches right next to them.

Then she spots the laptop perched on the coffee table in front of them and when Jin says something in Korean and a couple of them laugh and Jimin replies, she realises they're live.

All their eyes flicker up to look at her, though, before quickly darting back to the screen, their expressions carefully unchanging - all except Taehyung.

He meets her gaze; with his long hair brushing his ears and a green cardigan making him look warm and inviting, it’s no wonder she doesn’t look away for a couple of seconds before he tears his eyes away to look back at the screen.

Sensing this as the ultimate opportunity to avoid whatever conversation he has in mind, Dilara swiftly makes her way into her bedroom and quietly shuts the door. Hesitating for exactly one second, she crosses her bedroom and opens her tablet, the only device she has that still has the Vlive app, and joins the stream.

Taehyung looks up again in the direction of her room before turning his attention back to the screen, and for a moment it feels like he’s looking right at her. He glances vaguely over at the rest of them before he locks eyes with Namjoon and - it happens in a split second - Namjoon gives him an imperceptible shake of the head.

Dilara lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, somewhat thankful yet regretful that she won’t hear a knock on her door right now. The next moment, though, she sees Taehyung look down at his lap again and pick up his phone this time, fingers flying over the screen. Right on cue, her phone buzzes next to her.

She scoffs quietly, ignoring how her heart leaps in spite of itself, unsurprised to see a message.

Tae [01:10] How was your night?

Dilara [01:11] Tiring.

Tae [01:12] Still up for that talk?

Dilara [01:13] Aren’t you live?

Tae [01:13] I go live a lot.

Dilara [01:14] Namjoon looks like he could kill you if you left.

Tae [01:14] Hold on, are you watching?

Dilara feels like slapping herself. When she looks up at the screen, she sees his cheeks pulled back slightly, head still bent over his phone.

Dilara [01:15] Just a guess. Can we take a raincheck? I’m pretty tired and I have Qualifying tomorrow.

On screen, he freezes for a moment and she thinks she notices his shoulders fall slightly. He types something before locking his phone and looking up at the camera, tossing his hair out of his eyes, face completely unreadable. Her phone pings, and her heart thuds softly at his reply.

Tae [01:16] Of course. Sleep well.

The next day, the flaw with her proposition comes to light when Dilara, once again, sees them in the paddock. She’s been in the garage for nearly two hours by the time Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon arrive. Given the public setting, the most she can do is wave to them from afar and ignore Jimin giving her a pointed look.

She’d thought long and hard about it as she fell asleep last night, the content of their “talk”. We need space, she’d rehearsed in her head. Just to think. Just to figure this out. Short and vague, the best way to go.

Of course, talking about space isn’t the best decision, especially since none of their conversations have ever gone as planned. They either fight or cry or both, and she’d really rather avoid any of that. As a result, she avoids all of them, specifically Jimin’s texts and even Jungkook when he comes up to her car, eyes shining in admiration. She engages with him while the cameras are on them but the moment they drift away, she immediately excuses herself and hurries into her changing room.

It’s Qualifying day, though, so there’s enough to do in any case. Dilara goes out for FP3, having long and serious discussions with Christian, all his attention on her for once since Max will start tomorrow from the back of the grid due to his penalty.

Dilara feels strangely stressed, still. Part of it is Qualifying, part of it is having Max all the way back in P20 and therefore of no support to her, part of it is Jimin’s continuous texts, Taehyung’s presence, their impending conversation, and Jaden bumping into her yet again - except this time, he’s openly cold.

“Good luck,” he says shortly, brushing past her.

“Thanks,” says Dilara automatically, stumbling slightly while he continues walking.

“Pity you didn’t get the new engine,” he adds, turning around and walking backwards.

“Bite me, Park.”

She shakes her head as he disappears around a corner, the competitiveness emerging in full force. One date, one date and this is the fallout she has to deal with. She makes sure to continue thinking about it, enjoying the anger she knows will help when she gets into the car and zooms into Q3, eventually qualifying P3 for the race tomorrow.

Everyone’s happy; Christian hugs her, Max comes from inside the garage in jeans, hugging her for the cameras, and Natalie Pinkham interviews her, Lewis and George, all the top three qualifiers, one by one.

Dilara still evades the group, though; she sees Namjoon smile at her from across the garage and tentatively smiles back, but looks at no one else. She’s aware of what a terrible job she’s doing with this; she doesn’t even want to imagine what Taehyung’s face looks like when she ignores him. But there’s only so much she can focus on during a race weekend, or at least that’s what she tells herself.

Dilara does have one moment of pleasure, though; on her way back inside for a shower, she passes Jaden again.

“Looks like I won’t be needing that engine after all,” she says innocently, mimicking his shrug and ignoring his scowl as she walks away.

She manages to sneak away from the paddock without the group. There’s a sponsorship meeting they have with the Red Bull marketing team, which was the reason they even showed up today, and the moment she spotted them shuffling into the conference room between engineers and press officers darting about, she hurried away, keen to get back home and lock herself up in her room until she has to go to sleep.

The house is a fifteen minute walk from the paddock. Dilara tries to let go of everything else for a while and just enjoy the weather in silence, along with her P3 starting position and her jab at a bitter ex-flame. It’s peaceful, the last rays of the sun lighting up the sky while the cool breeze makes autumn leaves crunch under her shoes. The house is two minutes away now, within her view, when her phone pings yet again, followed by a series of pings.

Frowning - and panicking, slightly - she opens her phone to see eight messages on the most ridiculous WhatsApp group she’s a part of: Taehyung’s true loves, courtesy Jimin, who added her and Jungkook in an effort to convince her that their friendship is independent of her relationship with Taehyung. Neither she nor Jungkook had ever said anything on it, too awkward to, so eventually after a series of whiny messages, Jimin had stopped as well.

Dilara has no desire to start becoming an active participant now. With all the strength in her, she locks her phone and is about to slip it into her bag when it buzzes, the ringtone loud in the quiet of the street.

Huffing, she answers it. “What?”

“Dilara? Uh… have you left?”

“What… Jungkook?” Unexpected, to say the least. “What are you - I mean, yeah. I have. Why?”

“You should come back,” is all he says. “Taehyung hyung kind of… it’s a bit of a situation.”

This explains nothing. “What does that mean?”

“Um…” Jungkook’s voice moves away, as though he’s speaking to someone else. “I think he - I think punched your ex? That guy? Or - or he tried to, anyway. He’s not the best at -”

“He what?”

“Yeah, no, his stance wasn’t very good either and -” There’s a shuffle and she hears the phone transferred to someone else.

“Hey, Dilara,” comes Jimin’s voice, calm - and smug. “Remember when you said you needed a sign? I think you just got one.”

–

Her legs are starting to cramp but Dilara doesn;t stop, not until she gets to the garage. She spots Jimin and Jungkook hovering at the entrance, shoulders relaxing in relief when they see her.

“What - the - hell?” she pants, stopping for the first time since the phone call.

“Holy shit, did you run all the way?” Jimin asks, ignoring her shake of the head as she tries to catch her breath. “Here, have some water first.”

“What happened?” Dilara asks desperately, reaching for the water anyway and downing half of it in one go. “What do you mean he - and who’s -” There are so many moving parts to it that she falters, her heart feeling like it’s going to fall out of her chest.

“Jaden,” answers Jungkook. “The pit crew guy. He said…” He swallows and looks at Jimin apprehensively.

Her heart skips a beat. “What? Jungkook, what?” Then she remembers. “Wait, where the hell is he?”

“The medic is trying to stop his nose from bleeding,” answers Jimin, sounding repulsed. “Hope it hurts,” he adds savagely.

Her eyes widen and she slaps him on the shoulder. “Not him!”

Jimin blinks, rubbing his shoulder absently. “Oh. Taehyung’s over there - but he’s really angry so be careful when you -”

But Dilara ignores him, brushing past both of them into the changing room he’s pointed at. Kicking the door open, she sees Seokjin standing next to Taehyung, who’s sitting holding an ice pack over his limp hand, while Jin speaks rapidly in Korean, sounding rather like he’s lecturing him. Taehyung looks up mid-wince, face going slack when he sees her, as though he can’t quite believe she’s here.

Seokjin mutters something when he sees her and pats his shoulder before walking out past her, giving her a small nod as he does. Dilara doesn’t look away from Taehyung, though. For a moment, they’re just staring at each other, him with apprehension and defiance, and she with an overwhelming sense of anger… and fear. There’s so much she wants to say, yell, scream that she can’t choose.

She walks forward until she’s standing right above him. “Give me the icepack.”

Taehyung’s face reacts minutely before smoothing back out. He looks back down at his hands and shakes his head. “No.”

Dilara stares at him, incredulous. “Give me the icepack,” she repeats. “And you better start explaining while you’re at it.”

“I don’t need to explain anything,” he mumbles, twisting his body away from her. When she lunges towards him, livid and missing his hand by inches, he looks up in horror. “What are you doing?” he cries. “Do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

Her chest constricts. She reaches forward and takes off his snapback, just for something to do. “Then give it to me!”

“What the - no! Go away!”

“No way. You don’t get to cause drama on my paddock and then tell me to -”

“Oh, so now this is about you?”

“Goddamnit, Tae! Why do you have to make everything so difficult!” she shouts in frustration. “Just give me the fucking icepack!”

Taehyung stares up at her, eyes wide. He takes a shaky breath and she realises with a jolt that for the first time since they broke up, she’s addressed him by his name. Tae… She hasn’t said that name out loud in months, not to Jimin, not to Lexie, not even to herself.

Silently, he raises his hand and hands her the icepack. Taking it, she kneels in front of him and takes his right hand, gingerly placing the icepack on it. He hisses but keeps his hand steady, and she carefully continues, trying not to think about how close they are, how she can feel him looking at her.

His knuckles are red and bruised, but thankfully not bleeding. She tries to hold his hand as gently as possible, but firmly enough that he can’t pull away because she really, really doesn't want to let go of him right now.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands in a low voice, not looking up. “How could you -” she breaks off, shaking her head.

It’s a moment before Taehyung answers. “It’s not important.” When her head snaps up to look at him incredulously, he frowns and looks away, shrugging stubbornly.

“How is it -” Dilara pauses with the icepack for a moment, exhaling through her nose. “You hit him. You punched him - apparently.”

He frowns. “What do you mean apparently?” he asks, sounding almost defensive.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says sarcastically, holding up his hand and ignoring his dramatic gasp. “Look at this. Have you ever punched anything before?”

“Jungkook taught me once. Kind of.”

“That’s great. And now Jaden is with the medic getting his nose fixed! How is why not important?”

Taehyung scoffs in disgust. “There was barely any blood. Don’t worry, his stupid face will be fine,” he mutters scathingly.

Dilara glares up at him again, fighting the urge to smack the back of his head. “I don’t care about him!” She ignores how he suddenly looks up, as though surprised. “What about you? You - you hurt your hand!” She takes a deep breath. “What if he complains? He - he will complain and then Red Bull -” She gasps as something horrific occurs to her. “What if they - what if Big Hit gets involved? This - this is a PR disaster!”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to have heard most of what she’s said. “It - it will be fine,” he says finally, but she can hear an undertone of worry in his voice. “Namjoon hyung is talking to the team.” He swallows. “I trust him.”

Don’t we all. But Red Bull is a whole other matter. “God, Tae…” She drops her head before raising it slowly to look up at him. “Please tell me this isn’t about what you overheard the other night.”

He says nothing for a moment but then frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“The sign. When I told him that -” But it’s too much to explain and she doesn’t have the patience to get him to admit something he doesn’t want to - if he indeed has something to admit to. “Forget it. What did he say? Jaden?”

Predictably, Taehyunglowers his eyes again. “I can’t tell you. But he deserved it.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

“I mean that there’s no point if I tell you. He said a lot of stupid stuff but if I tell you, then it’s not - it’s not…” He sighs and looks away, and she knows he’s searching for the English word. “It doesn’t mean anything if I tell you,” he says finally, giving up.

Dilara stares. “Are you telling me… you punched a guy - badly - and hurt your hand and you can’t tell me because you’re trying to be chivalrous?” When his eyes light up at the sound of the word he was looking for, she snaps. “You - what? You jeopardized your career to - to defend my honour? Are you actually serious?”

“You didn’t hear him,” he states, frowning down at her now. “You don’t know what he was saying. And no, I’m not telling you,” he adds before she can ask again. “But, yeah. What he said was horrible. And…” He shrugs defiantly. “I didn’t like hearing that about you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that. She should be flattered, and she thinks she is, but it pales in comparison to how worried she is for him right now. He has no idea the power Red Bull holds - none at all. “You’re going to be in so much trouble,” she whispers. “He could press charges. How are you not more worried?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker. “I don’t think he will,” he says, but his fake confidence doesn’t fool her. “I - I don’t regret it.” He meets her gaze. “Everything he said was bullshit,” he blurts. “He doesn’t know you at all. Seriously, I can’t believe you went out with him.”

Dilara raises an eyebrow. “You really want to go there?”

He frowns churlishly. “He’s an asshole. He -” Taehyung stops himself, biting down on his lip. “You are so out of his league,” he says eventually, looking away.

After a moment, she dips the icepack onto his hand again, slowly, concentrating on nothing else. “You’re an idiot,” she says quietly, her voice betraying her. “Such a drama queen.”

Taehyung rests his other hand on her shoulder, brushing his thumb lightly against her jaw. She knows he’s doing it to comfort her, but she doesn’t think she’s the one that needs it right now. “I still can’t believe you did this. You’re going to be in so much trouble, Tae,” she repeats, looking up at him again. His eyes soften when she says his name again, and she can tell it means the world to him. But right now, she doesn’t care about that.

“It won’t be as bad as you think. I told you, I trust Namjoon hyung,” he reminds her, eyes flickering to her mouth momentarily. But then a shadow passes across his face. “I just hope I haven’t got him in trouble.”

To that, Dilara has nothing to say. The ice has almost melted now; they’re basically just holding hands, but even the realisation doesn’t make her want to let go. “What did he say?” she tries again, deciding that disdain towards Jaden is better than this worry for his leader. “Jaden?”

Taehyung’s face twists in disgust; somehow he still manages to look handsome and sexy all at once. “I told you, I’m not telling you,” he says obstinately, a slight smirk appearing when she rolls her eyes.

“I can’t think what would be so bad that you’d do this,” she confesses, shaking her head. “You never struck me as the violent type.”

He frowns. “I’m not. But you make me step out of my comfort zone quite a bit,” he adds, cracking a smile.

Dilara holds his gaze, not sure what about the situation today could have required it. It’s not surprising that Jaden would’ve said something, maybe even something really bad. Did he call her a bad driver? A slut? A whore? She’s mildly shocked at how little those words affect her, especially when it’s in comparison to the sheer terror she’s feeling for Taehyung right now.

She’s just contemplating how she will face him and the rest of the group if it turns out that she’s the reason BTS goes from seven to six members, when he bumps her forehead with his. “Stop worrying,” he chides gently. “It’s happened now. We’ll see how it goes.”

Even as her heart races at the momentary proximity of their faces, she glares up at him. “I can’t stop worrying. You should be worrying,” she points out, jabbing him in the chest with the hand holding the icepack.

“You - ugh, you’re getting water on my shirt…”

The door behind them swings open then and she sees Taehyung’s head snap up, face going smooth, before she turns to see Namjoon walking in, Seokjin right behind him. Both of them stand up in unison and before she can register what’s happening, Taehyung is ushered out and into a meeting room.

“Wait, wait,” she says quickly, grabbing Namjoon’s arm. “What’s - who’s in there?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a couple of people from Red Bull and Big Hit,” he replies, in what she presumes is meant to be a reassuring tone. “They just want to know what happened. Although, Jaden is…” He trails off, and he winces uncomfortably.

“But what’s going to happen to - to Tae? What are they going to -”

“Dilara, relax,” says Namjoon hurriedly, starting to walk out of the room. “We have our reps. It should be over soon.”

That doesn’t sound comforting at all. “What is that supposed to - do they know it was Jaden’s fault? Apparently he said -” Here she breaks off, remembering suddenly that even she don’t know what he said.

Apparently taking advantage of her momentary silence, Namjoon starts to slip out. “He’ll be out soon,” he promises.

“Stop making it sound like prison!” she says loudly as they leave. Alone once again, she trudges out of the changing room to see…

“Shit,” she mutters, spotting her across the garage. “Vicki.”

Dilara’s press officer raises her eyebrows before beckoning her exactly like Namjoon did Taehyung, and just like her ex, she silently follows her into a secluded corner of the garage.

“Alright,” says Vicki, somehow managing to sound stern, knowing and worried all at once. “Please tell me you did not go out with someone from Max’s pit crew.”

—

“... and then he cornered me again yesterday to ask me why I wouldn’t go out with him -”

“Again?” Vicki shakes her head, incredulous. “Jesus, Dilara. Why didn’t you tell someone he was bothering you?”

“Because -” Dilara shrugs uncomfortably. “We’re racing. And it wasn’t a big deal.” When she catches sight of Vicki’s expression, she backtracks. “Okay, honestly? If he’d come up to me one more time, I probably would have.”

“You shouldn’t have to wait for that,” she declares in her usual business-like fashion. “But maybe you didn’t because he’s a member of the team…?” Vicki tilts her head knowingly.

Dilara’s face heats up. “I know it’s not technically against the rules,” she murmurs, only slightly guilty as she looks down at the floor. “But it’s stupid.”

Vicki observes her for a moment before nodding. “Still doesn’t give him the right to talk like an arsehole.”

“Okay, what did he say?” Dilara asks for what feels like the hundredth time. “Why won’t anyone just tell me?”

“Well, firstly because he said it in Korean,” she points out. “And secondly… you should ask your friends,” she adds, tilting her chin at something behind Dilara. She turns to see Jimin and Jungkook waiting at the end of the corridor, trying to look nonchalant but clearly waiting for her. The rush of affection she feels for them in that moment is overwhelming.

Dilara turns back to Vicki, not meeting her eyes. By the way she said “friends”, it’s clear she knows they aren’t just any friends. Or it’s because one of them hit a guy a member of the team. “What’s - what’s going to happen to - to Jaden?”

Vicki shrugs sympathetically. “They’re both in there,” she answers, and Dilara is grateful for how she includes Taehyung in it, too. “We’ll see. Don’t worry about it, Dilara. You have a race tomorrow,” she reminds her.

Dilara nods and watches as Vicki leaves after patting her shoulder, before turning around and walking towards Jimin and Jungkook. Suddenly aware of how much taller they are, she buries her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. “You guys want to go for a walk?” she asks in a small voice.

Even though they both nod instantly and Jungkook simply puts an arm around her shoulders, they only end up getting as far as the garage before Seokjin, who’s still outside the conference room, shakes his head silently as soon as he spots them. From this, she gathers that they’re still not in total privacy and she can’t be seen alone on a street with just two members and no production crew.

They slowly drift apart, taking seats on opposite sides of the garage. For the first time ever, Dilara initiated a conversation on Jimin’s silly WhatsApp group. Both of them reply immediately and she finally, finally gets the whole story.

They tell her how after their meeting, a couple of engineers had come in to use the printer for some data. One of them, Jaden, recognised them and greeted them in Korean, after which everyone else left, leaving only the eight of them in the room. It was small talk for a bit initially, with Taehyung hanging in the back and not participating at all, before Jaden really opened his mouth.

At this, Jungkook hesitates, wondering if Taehyung hyung should be the one to tell her. She informs them about the weird chivalrous trip Taehyung’s on and that she’s not getting a single answer out of him. After some silent begging and pleading from across the garage, Jimin visibly rolls his eyes and spills.

Jimin [19:41] He said he thought you were hot and it was good to finally having something nice to look at on the paddock

Jungkook [19:42] And he said that he went out with you in Yeongam and you… did stuff.

Dilara [19:43] Oh god. Seriously? He actually said that?

Jimin [19:44] Yeah. And then Namjoon said that we’ve all known you for a long time now and then Jaden asked if any of us had ever hooked up with you. Obviously we all said no.

Jungkook [19:45] Except Taehyung hyung. He just didn’t answer.

Jimin [19:46] Yeah, but Jaden didn’t notice. He said he thought you were cool initially but then you became kind of mean and you didn’t want to go out with him anymore.

Dilara [19:46] He said I was “mean”? That’s the word he used?

Across the garage, she can see Jimin look up at her apprehensively before glancing at Jungkook, who simply shrugs uncomfortably.

Dilara [19:46] Come on, what did he really say?

Jimin [19:47] He called you a spoiled brat… and a bitch. And he said that you turned him down after one date because you were still hung up on your ex.

Fuck. Dilara groans inwardly, Taehyung’s suppressed happiness and gentle yet confident caresses suddenly making sense. When she looks up at them, cringing visibly, she spots both of them biting back smug smiles.

Dilara [19:48] Shut up.

Jimin [19:49] Hilarious. Anyway, then Jin hyung tried to change the subject but Jaden brought it back to you again. He said if he’d known you were just good for one date, he would’ve gotten as much out of it as he could right then.

Jungkook [19:50] And then he… did a thing with his hand.

Dilara [19:51] So he’s a creep. Tae hit him because of this? Really?

Jimin [19:51] Well he said it in a lot more detail. But I can’t type that out.

Jungkook [19:52] Yeah, he called you a really bad word. And I can’t tell you. It’s in Korean and I can’t say it. It’s too horrible.

Huh. Dilara looks up to see Jungkook frowning at the screen, apparently troubled just at the thought of it. She wracks her brains for the worst thing a guy could call a girl in English. The more she thinks about it, the more she finds she doesn’t really want to know.

Jungkook [19:56] Anyway. Then out of nowhere, Taehyung punched him. Jaden got knocked back into the wall and I think his nose was bleeding.

Jimin [19:56] He deserves it. Who the fuck talks like that?

Dilara [19:57] And Tae? I saw his hand.

Jimin [19:57] Yeah, he was quite pissed. I haven’t seen him like that in a long time.

Dilara [19:58] Do you know what they’re talking about in there?

Jungkook [19:58] Not a clue. I think they’re just working on a way to keep it quiet.

Jungkook and Jimin launch into a discussion speculating what will happen now, whether their lawyers will get involved or whether they’ll try to resolve it right here, and if Jaden will try to make it a bigger deal. Dilara can’t participate; all she can think about is Taehyung in there, no idea what they’re talking about or what frame of mind he’s in. He’s smart and clever, but he’s also impulsive with his words. One wrong question or remark and he’ll respond with the snarkiest comment he can come up with, making the situation worse than it already is.

Jimin [20:03] Don’t worry, Dilara. This wasn’t your fault.

Dilara shakes her head, not caring that she’s this transparent. Jimin’s words, while technically what she needs to hear, don't help at all because, really - isn't it her fault? Wasn't Jaden a dick because of her, because she turned him down? Wasn't Taehyung being reckless because of how far she’s pushed him? Because she entered his life in the first place? Her thoughts spiral as she imagines being the sole reason for BTS's negative publicity, for their hate, for their disbandment -

Her phone pings again, but from a different contact. The moment she sees Namjoon's display icon, she dives for the phone.

Namjoon [20:08] Hey. You alright?

Dilara [20:08] What is going on in there? How are you texting?

Namjoon [20:08] Hard to say. And Christian got a phone call that he had to pick up.

Dilara [20:09] Damnit. How's Tae?

Namjoon [20:09] Pretty calm.

Dilara [20:09] That’s… not good. Right? Or is it?

Namjoon [20:10] No, he's not going overboard. I was there - I kind of get why he got so mad.

Dilara [20:10] Really?

Namjoon [20:11] Yeah. I mean, not mad enough to punch a guy in the face.

There’s a rolling eyes emoji at the end of the message. Dilara feels a tingling in her fingers and a prickle of defensiveness.

Dilara [20:12] I guess if a guy had said that about Kaya, you wouldn't have done the same.

She doesn’t phrase it like a question; she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s challenging him… even though she kind of is. Dilara watches the ellipses appear to indicate that he’s typing. He types for a while, nearly a minute, pausing constantly. Finally, the message appears.

Namjoon [20:14] Yeah, I would’ve broken his face.

Mildly satisfied, she places the phone down and waits. Jimin and Jungkook have stopped their bickering on the group, too, but she makes a mental note to thank them later, genuinely and profusely, for being so nice to her when she’s been anything but.

It’s nearly thirty more minutes of excruciating waiting, with Seokjin, Jimin and Jungkook sitting with her. She hasn't the faintest where Yoongi and Hoseok are; she’s about to ask Jin about it, just to distract herself, when the door opens and Christian comes out.

Dilara leaps to her feet automatically, thoroughly relieved when his eyes land on her instantly and he beckons her to follow him. She jogs after him until they’re out of earshot and he turns to her, suddenly looking taller.

“Has Jaden been harassing you, Dilara?” The first question out of his mouth throws her for a loop.

“Has he -” She swallows, biting her lip. “Why - um, what have you heard?”

“That he’s been harassing you.” Christian folds his arms across his chest. “Vicki just told us. It changes everything.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Changes what? What - what do you mean? What happened? What’s going to happen to -”

“Well, Jaden has been fired,” he begins, placing his hands on his hips. “He was a good engineer, but…” He shakes his head. “We can’t have a person on the team who treats a woman like that. It would be a publicity nightmare.” His eyes snap up to her. “And it’s incredibly disrespectful to you, too, of course.”

Dilara nods, somewhat in a daze. “So, he’s… fired? Just like that? What if he goes to the press?”

“He’s signing an NDA. If he wants his severance and doesn’t want to be blacklisted, he’ll sign it.” Christian’s confidence seems dangerously unbalanced. “Plus, Big Hit would lose millions if they broke the contract now. And also, apparently, the negative publicity would be enormous if it got out that their employee was being punished for defending his… friend.”

By the way he says it, she knows she’s been made. “Christian…”

“He was the same bloke that miraculously found you on the middle of the road in Monza, was he not?”

Dilara swallows. “He was. Look, it’s not -”

“I don’t want to know.”

“No, you don’t -”

“No, I genuinely don’t want to know.” He looks at her knowingly - too knowingly. “It’s better,” he says, slower this time, “if I don’t know.” When she nods hesitantly, he pats her shoulder once. “Right. Your friend… I think he should be fine. But in the future, Dilara,” he adds, suddenly sounding tired, “do let us know if a team member is creating a hostile work environment, will you?”

Dilara nods silently as he walks away, at the last minute telling her to go home and rest for the race tomorrow. She has no intention of going anywhere, though, not until she hears from Namjoon himself that this is over. Not Christian, not even Taehyung - Namjoon. Only him.

The next two minutes are unbearable. She walks back slowly to where she was seated before to see Seokjin, Jimin and Jungkook waiting for her expectantly.

“Well?” Jimin prompts urgently.

“Um… he’s - he’s signing an NDA,” is all that comes out of her mouth. When all three of them look completely confused, she doesn’t know where to begin. “He said Jaden - Jaden signed an NDA and I think he said that Tae -”

At that moment, the conference room door opens and three people spill out: Taehyung, with a Korean man in a suit next to him, and Namjoon a step behind. To her immense relief, the latter strides over to them first thing. He says something in Korean, to which all three of them sigh loudly in relief. Heart hammering, Dilara looks up at him and tugs on his sleeve.

“What?” she asks quietly, desperately.

“He’s off the hook,” says Namjoon in English, clearly trying to keep his own smile under control, even as the dimples pop on his cheeks. "He's going to get a warning from the company, but since it won't get out… it'll be okay. It’ll be okay,” he repeats, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

Dilara swallows with difficulty, the words suddenly making no sense. “He’s -” She clears her throat, unable to tear her eyes away from Taehyung. His eyes meet hers for a fraction of a second over the man’s shoulder, but his expression is as unreadable as ever. “He’s not kicked out of the group?”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “You would think… but no.” He chuckles. “I’m kidding. We have some pretty good lawyers, you know?”

She doesn’t comment on how ominous that sounds. Next to her, Jungkook is rubbing his eyes, smiling in embarrassment. She can’t see what Seokjin and Jimin are doing behind her, and she only vaguely registers someone patting the top of her head.

Ahead of them, the man in the suit is finally walking away. Taehyung says something to him as he leaves but she doesn’t want to wait any longer. She turns to Namjoon.

“Can I… I mean, do you mind if we…”

Namjoon doesn’t look surprised at this unfinished request. He glances at Taehyung, who’s now slowly walking up to them, and nods. “Just… I mean, I don’t want to be that guy, but…” He shrugs apologetically “… one minute. We need to get on a conference call after this.”

She nods mutely and waits for all of them to vacate the garage before finally, finally facing Taehyung.

He stands before her, a respectful few feet between them, his hands in his pockets and looking breathtakingly handsome. He looks expectant, defiant - but above all, he looks relieved. It suddenly reminds her of how he’d looked at her nearly two years ago in the Suzuka paddock, before they’d ever exchanged a single word.

Taehyung exhales shakily, and something snaps in her. All the anxiety of the weekend rushes into her chest at the same time and she tilts her head slightly, taking a step forward as though on autopilot. He nods silently and meets her halfway, and they wrap their arms around each other in an emotional hug.

Taehyung displays none of the hesitation he’d shown in the kitchen a week ago. His long hair brushes against her cheek where he’s buried his face in her neck, breathing now slightly uneven and she knows that despite his cool exterior, he was worried, too. She tightens her arms around his shoulders, gripping his shirt and pressing her forehead against his collarbone.

“You’re such an idiot, Kim Taehyung,” she murmurs shakily, savouring the familiar scent of lotion and spicy cologne. Christian Dior Sauvage, she remembers, tilting her face and inhaling slightly.

Taehyung nods, squeezing her waist with one hand. “I know,” he whispers against her skin, voice deep and reverberating in her ear.

Every bit of frustration, exasperation, gratitude and all the unnamed feelings she’s pushed deep down threaten to resurface. There’s so much she wants to tell him, and this is it. She doesn’t know how to tell him more; when she feels his lips press against the skin just below her ear, as though instinctive, she feels an old familiar warmth in her abdomen and she doesn’t want it to go anywhere.

Dilara vaguely registers voices, a cue that causes them to begrudgingly separate. There’s some bustling; a phone call, some instructions in Korean, and Namjoon beckoning to his members. Dilara quietly takes her leave, trying not to think about how tightly she and Taehyung held each other or how her fingers slipped out of his hand when she left.

—

Dilara is woken by the sound of raucous laughter outside that abruptly dies down when someone shushes them. She groans softly; it’s still dark outside and the time on her phone indicates that she’s been asleep for less than an hour.

She hadn’t returned to the house after leaving the paddock. Too buzzed to be by herself, she’d headed straight to the hotel where the rest of the drivers were staying. A couple of the drivers had been playing FIFA and she’d piled on, making every effort to distract herself from the events of the day. She’d come back to the house an hour ago, sneaking in and going straight to her room and crashing.

It was a fairly uncomfortable sleep, mostly because there’s something nagging on her mind, something she’s forgetting. Dilara can’t put her finger on it; she knows it has to do with Taehyung and what happened today, but everything else escapes her. She shifts restlessly in her bed, trying to go back to sleep - but the damage is done, and she’s wide awake..

Even after the voices outside dwindle down one by one before disappearing altogether and the light under the door turns off, she still can’t sleep.

It’s after midnight when she checks her phone again, opening WhatsApp and checking for new messages. Apart from three messages from Jimin timed around the time they reached the house (Hey we got piri piri chicken! Okay Yoongi hyung just said you’re probably asleep. Good night :)), there’s nothing else.

She thinks for a second, then goes onto the Taehyung’s true loves group. The last message is a joke from Jimin that he’d cracked to try and cheer her up.

Dilara [00:09] Hey guys. Just wanted to say thanks for today. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around but you guys were really there for me so… thank you.

Jimin [00:15] No need to thank us but fine, you can buy us ice cream tomorrow.

Dilara [00:15] I can? Aren’t you both dieting?

Jungkook [00:16] We can give it up for one ice cream. And you can join us in the gym when we burn it off.

Dilara [00:17] Deal. And um

Jungkook [00:17] What?

Jungkook [00:18] Oh yeah. Taehyung was looking for you when we got back.

Dilara [00:19] Oh. Right. I was asleep.

Jimin [00:19] You’re not anymore.

Dilara [00:20] And?

Jimin [00:20] And he’s awake too.

Dilara can almost picture Jimin’s smirk as he dances around the topic. Fortunately, Jungkook comes to her rescue.

Jungkook [00:21] Yes but you have a race tomorrow, Dilara. You should sleep.

Dilara [00:21] I will. Thank you Jungkook.

Jungkook [00:22] You’re welcome. And while we’re on the topic of thank yous, I think Taehyung hyung is the one you should really be saying that to.

Oh. Of course. Dilara sighs as it finally clicks, what she’s been forgetting. She’s snapped at him, confessed her worries to him, dropped her defences and embraced him - but she hasn’t thanked him, not yet.

Now that she’s realised it, she knows she can’t sleep. She considers texting him, but she doesn’t know if that would seem too impersonal, especially after the emotional hug they shared. What does she do instead, though? Ask him to meet her outside? That feels like far too much pressure.

Jesus. Dilara climbs out of bed and heads to the kitchen, silently opening the fridge and taking her first drink of water in hours. This is Taehyung, she thinks, leaning against the kitchen island. Nothing about him warrants this much overthinking. Pulling out her phone from her pajamas’ pocket, she texts him.

Dilara [00:30] Hey.

Tae [00:32] Hey.

Dilara [00:33] How’s your hand?

Tae [00:33] Hurting a bit. Why aren’t you asleep?

Dilara [00:34] I couldn’t. You should stop texting though, if your hand hurts.

Tae [00:35] I can type with my left hand. Don’t you have a race tomorrow?

Dilara [00:36] Yeah. I’ve raced with less sleep though. Why aren’t you asleep?

Tae [00:36] I’m in bed.

A familiar flutter erupts in her chest, and her toes curl on the wooden floor. Without warning, an image of a shirtless Taehyung in boxer shorts, glasses on, lying on his side with his phone in one hand appears in her mind. She’s willing to bet a thousand bucks that that’s how he looks right now, before she remembers that a lot of things could have changed in a year.

Dilara [00:37] That’s too bad. We’ll talk tomorrow then.

Tae [00:37] We can talk now too.

Dilara [00:38] Nah, it’s more of an in-person conversation.

Tae [00:38] You know we live in the same house, right?

Dilara bites her lip, trying to stop the smile from spreading on her face. She starts walking towards her room, her heart suddenly beating faster. Stopping in front of her room, she leans against the closed door.

Dilara [00:39] I’m aware.

Tae [00:40] But no. You need to sleep.

He’s flirting. It’s been so long since Kim Taehyung has flirted with her this confidently that she’s forgotten how much of a blushing mess she becomes, being thankful only for the fact that it’s never visible on her face. She gazes absently at the closet door in front of her, trying to think of a response.

Dilara [00:41] Yeah, I do. I’ll probably need to sleep after the race tomorrow too, because it’s always so tiring.

Tae [00:42] You can sleep on the train to Amsterdam. It’s going to be a long trip.

Dilara [00:42] Probably. I’m sure I’ll find someone to keep me company.

Tae [00:43] Seven of us not enough for you?

I really only need one. But she doesn’t say it. It’s far too risky.

Dilara [00:45] That's a lot of talk for someone who barely escaped getting in trouble today. Or who knows how much you would've regretted it?

Tae [00:45] I won't regret anything I do for you.

Dilara closes her eyes and leans her head back against the door, suddenly feeling warm. She wonders briefly if the conversation is venturing into unfamiliar territory - or, rather, an all-too familiar territory.

She stares at the closet door in front of ber, hoping for inspiration, when it suddenly opens to, once again, reveal none other than Taehyung himself, pulling on a white t-shirt as he steps out.

The combination of her surprise, his presence and the generous glimpse of lean, honey-coloured torso is enough to make her stumble and drop her phone. “Shit,” she mutters, averting her eyes and bending to pick it up. She looks up to see him frowning, knees bent as though about to help her up.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung glances between her and his door. “What were you doing outside my room?”

“I - that’s your room? I thought it was a closet,” she admits in slight embarrassment, feeling her heart rate slowly go back to normal.

He nods, looking amused. “You really couldn’t sleep, huh?”

Dilara tilts her head, twisting her mouth to hide her smile. “I thought we already discussed that.” She can’t stop looking at him, privately admiring how incredible he looks even in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, hair unstyled, face bare with a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. I was right, she thinks, mildly victorious.

“We did. But now that you’re here…” He trails off pointedly, wiggling his eyebrows at her until she stifles a laugh. He grins, and her stomach does a backflip.

"I was just going to get back to bed," she tells him, and he simply nods. She doesn't move, though, and neither does he. His gaze is his usual intense one: unmoving, like a laser looking into her soul. She tries to hold it for as long as she can but when it becomes too much, she drops her gaze. "Can I see your hand?" she asks, mostly for something to say.

Wordlessly, he raises his right hand and she takes it. She can't really see anything; she brushes her fingers extremely lightly over his knuckles but he still hisses softly.

"Sorry," she mutters apologetically. "It's too dark here… can we go to the window?"

He follows her a few steps away to the end of the hallway, where the house splits into a T, one room on either side. There's a window on the wall, though, wide and tall, with a near full moon causing a silvery light to stream in.

Dilara picks up his hand again and it makes sense now why he flinched. His knuckles are still an angry red, with scratches on the third and fourth joints. Her fingers ghost over his hand, but she’s careful not to touch him. When she hears his sharp intake of breath, she pauses before bringing both their hands down, fingers lightly intertwined momentarily before separating.

"I still can't believe you," she murmurs, shaking her head, but the disapproving tone is gone.

"I'm good at surprising people," he replies. He leans his side against the window and folds his arms across his chest, careful to keep his injured hand on the outside.

"Not just you." She doesn't look away from him. "Jimin and Jungkook told me what Jaden said." Predictably, his jaw clenches and his eyes blaze but the rest of his face stays unmoving. “I knew he was a jerk, but… yeah, I guess I’m surprised by how far he went.”

Taehyung observes her for a moment. “You still think he didn’t deserve it?”

Dilara reaches for his hand again, pointedly looking at his bruised knuckles. Thanks for defending me, she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat.

“Can you even hold a mic with this hand? You’re performing in a few days,” she reminds him, referring to the charity concert in Amsterdam scheduled for the coming Friday - one she’ll be missing because of her race in Russia.

“Hm, let’s check.” Taehyung gently pulls away to pick up her hand, wrapping his injured hand around her wrist and showing her how his fingers easily meet.

“Is that how you hold your mic?”

He smirks and tugs, bringing ber hand right up to his face… right up to his mouth. “This is how I hold my mic.” There’s a moment where she thinks he’s going to kiss her hand and she feels her heart race in anticipation. But after a moment, he lets go, smiling wider as though he knows exactly what’s going on in her mind.

Dilara wants to playfully smack him. Thanks for making me laugh. He’s flirting so blatantly, and she has to remind herself that amidst all the shit Jaden said, he did basically confirm to Taehyung that she’s not over him.

“Your fans will be very worried when they see you’ve been injured. I can almost see the hashtags on Twitter,” she continues, gesturing grandly. “Stay Strong Taehyung, or We support Taehyung and his gorgeous, injured, sexy hand.”

He laughs, and it suddenly feels warmer. “They will be worried,” he agrees, cocking his head, “but I’m sure even they’ll agree that it was worth it. You know, given that he’s been bothering you for weeks now, and today was just the finale.”

Dilara’s smile fades. “Vicki told you,” she guesses, sighing when he nods. “Well… yeah. Like I said, I knew he was a jerk.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Jinjja, Dilara,” he says, and her heart skips a beat at the sound of her name on his tongue. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh, really? So I was supposed to come to you and tell you that this guy I hooked up with suddenly won’t leave me alone?” She scoffs. “That would’ve gone well.”

He shrugs. “Why not? Whatever happened between us, it doesn’t matter if something is making you uncomfortable. And besides, it didn’t have to be me, you know.”

She barely hears his last sentence. Thanks for caring about me. “Fine. The next time a guy starts bothering me, I’ll make sure to keep you updated.”

“Good. I’ll keep my fists ready,” he says wryly, bringing his thin fists to his face and blowing on them.

“Maybe I’ll actually get Jungkook to teach you how to punch by then.”

“I’d rather you teach me.”

It’s predictable but Dilara’s cheeks heat up anyway, and his face breaks into a gorgeous grin. She looks down at their feet, and realises they’ve sub-consciously moved closer to each other. The moment she thinks of it, the scent of lotion and faint cologne suddenly grows stronger, and she gets the urge to sink into his chest and spend the night curled up in his arms. The thought of waking up warm and cuddled makes her yawn, and she quickly covers it up.

“You really should sleep.” Taehyung reaches over and gently ruffles her bangs, his old way of playfully banter before doing something really soft, usually beginning with pulling her to him and hugging her while she jokingly protested.

It makes her heart ache, the slow realisation that she still cares so much about him, that there’s nothing that can take away from the once-in-a-life-time connection they found with each other.

She still needs to thank him. Dilara can’t say the words, though; it seems inadequate somehow, given the risk he took, the impulse to do something so unlike him. She reaches up and slowly brushes a lock of blond hair out of his eyes, touching the corner of his glasses.

They’re close enough now, enough that she won’t take him by surprise. She hopes she’s right when she brings her other hand up and gently holds the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft, long hair.

Dilara gives Taehyung a moment to catch on, noting how he swallows and all traces of joking disappear, leaving only an almost childlike hope and vulnerability. Then, rising on her toes, she gently pulls his head down and presses her lips to his.

Like the time they reached their understanding of sorts in the kitchen, it takes him a moment to respond, almost as though he can’t quite believe this is real. Dilara waits until he kisses her back, tilting his head and leaning in, before opening her mouth. His lips part with a sigh and she wants to do the same - so familiar and addictive is his taste. His king hair tickles her cheek as his hands come up to hold her, gently and tentatively.

Taehyung’s lips are everything she remembers them being; soft, energetic, loving. It’s a slow, savouring kiss. With how unexpected it was, they simply take the time to reacquaint themselves. Dilara is glad, she thinks as they separate to catch their breath and she presses a last kiss to his lips before pulling away, for if it were anything more, she doesn't think she’d be able to stop herself.

Taehyung looks… overwhelmed. His lips are slightly swollen and he absently bites his lower lip, his eyes shining with ten times more hope and pleasant shock than the photoshoot earlier this week.

“Thanks,” she says softly, not specifying what for. Taking a step back and trying to ignore how her heart is zooming, she starts walking back to her room, still aware of him watching her go. Just when she reaches her door, she remembers something.

“Oh, and, uh…” This is awkward, and her heart thuds. Trying to be casual and shrug it off in the face of his motionless figure, she speaks once more. “You can… Dilara sounds a bit weird. Lara is fine.”

—

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