#and 2) was jetlagged for the last two days

[moshaeu]

a tad belated but HAPPY KAVEH DAY he deserves all the cuddles

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanart #kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #haikaveh #kavetham #speedran this because 1) did not realize it was his birthday #and 2) was jetlagged for the last two days #and finally recovered today #loved seeing all the kaveh bday art though omg #so pretty #mosh draws

[dear-ao3]

Can I ask for a translation on what happened in Vegas?

what didnt happen in vegas!

-carlos sainz ran over a drain cover that was not welded down 9 minutes into the first practice session. it ripped a hole through his car basically (he narrowly avoided getting royally and permanently fucked up by it) and he got a 10 place grid penalty for fixing said car

-toto wolff, the mercedes team principle, said very emphatically that carlos deserved this penalty. carlos did not in fact deserve this penalty because it was not remotely his fault.

-probably out of spite, carlos managed to finish the race above both mercedes cars

-back to practice 1, it was redflagged 9 minutes in after he crashed and it took nearly 7.5 hours for them to fix the track because they had to check all the other drain covers

-practice was already late to begin with and reportedly at 1am ish they kicked all the fans out who had bought tickets because it was "too late"

-tickets btw were over 1k USD

-practice two started sometime around 2am and didnt finish until nearly 4am

-yes, people were driving cars at over 200mph at 2 in the morning, jetlagged to hell and back. idc if you're a professional, that sounds dangerous

-the announcers were descending into madness the whole time and during practice two i think tried to talk about oceans 11 but fucked it up

-there was also the sphere. the sphere was relatively unhinged.

-the drivers didnt get back to their hotels until after the sun rose that day. and they had to race again that night

-oh also it was fucking freezing and when its freezing the cars don't work cause the tires don't warm up and the brakes don't warm up

-tires also warm up best on corners, high speed ones. the vegas track had mostly all low speed corners and really long straights. not ideal

-the pit lane exit was also smack in the middle of a really tight turn. which they would be exiting onto on cold tires with cold brakes.

-also the track looked like an upside down pig

-practice three was normal until the very end when alex albon crashed into the wall. no one was allowed to do practice starts because the session was red flagged and not resumed.

-the most notable thing to happen at qualifying was that both williams cars (which are basically tractors) managed to place p5 and p6 on the grid. especially interesting considering that logan sergeant has placed dead last in qualifying for the last several races.

-also both mclarens were at the bottom. this is not super relevant or particularly interesting but i was upset about it.

-ferrari went p1 (charles leclerc) and p2 (carlos sainz), but sainz had a 10 place grid penalty for fixing his car that had a literal hole through the bottom, so he started p12.

-weirdly, sir lewis hamilton and checo perez also started pretty far down the grid.

-anyway onto the race.

-there were so many safety cars. literally on the first lap the whole back half of the grid rammed into each other.

-then! terrifyingly! lando norris ran over a bump in the track on lap 3 or 4 i don't remember and spun several times before ramming into the wall. he sounded not ok on his radio but he got out of the car. eventually they ended up taking him to the hospital, he is quite fine but it was still a terrible crash

-his teammate, oscar piastri, seemly got possessed by someone or something, possibly lando himself, because he had a very impressive race until mclaren decided to use the worst tire strategy possible (as in, pit him in the last 10 laps to change his tires when this was largely avoidable by all accounts). he could have ended on the podium potentially if they hadn't fucked him up. still, he ended 10th and got the fastest lap and as a result the track record.

-there was also another episode of French Civil War at alpine when they told esteban ocon to stay behind his teammate, pierre gasley, and he said no !! and passed him for funzies

-charles leclerc also got possessed by something, possibly his own bad luck, because he managed to finish p2 after overtaking checo perez on the last lap.

-the same checo perez whos f1 career has been basically dead for half the season

-also lance stroll weirdly slayed

-despite starting high on the grid, both williams managed to finish out of the points

-surprisingly there were only 3 DNFs and 0 red flags

-this is surprising because of all the tire and brake issues that people thought there would be

-unsurprisingly max verstappen won. what was surprising was that he sang viva las vegas over his radio afterwards, especially surprising considering that he spent the whole weekend shitting on the race, saying that the track was terrible, he hated it, and that the fans should burn the place down for getting kicked out on practice 1 day and only getting a voucher in response

-related to that, the fans sued f1 over getting kicked out

-someone thought it was a good idea to put max charles and checo in the back of a rolls and film them driving to the podium. it was incredibly memey.

-there was definitely more that happened but this is all i can remember right now

#not a tag #from saph #f1 #las vegas gp 2023

[dmercer91]

ebug's sister, dm91

ok, first post where blake is blake!! also, excuse the absolute dumpster fire that is my life, and is the reason that this post is one post and not like 47

last season! (2022-23) part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve

(2023-24)! part one /

blakefriarr_

liked by dawson1417, adamfantilli and 6,947 others

blakefriarr_: so many things have happened since i last popped up on all your timelines and made them immeasurably better!

this is episode one of season two of i-am-both-the sister-of-the-devils-home-emergency-backup-goaltender-and-also-happen-to-be dating-dawson-mercer-forward-for-the-devils series!

these pictures are in no particular order, because, i am moving into a new place with afore mentioned dawson mercer and have spent the last several weeks making it look like it's not the most depressing back alley murderous apartment any of you have ever laid your eyes on

and apparently, i have a ball ton of stuff!

regardless, here's what i've caught up on;

the entire nhl draft! though i have not acquired any new adoptees, it did come to my attention that the anaheim ducks as an organization did personally victimize me during the 2023 entry draft (they also took a BALLSY amount of time to re-sign bitch one and bitch two. what the literal fuck, dudes). also- if you are seeing this and you need help to flee, blink twice (not you adam) (you know who you are)

2, the entire preseason was also missed while i was one, curing myself from jetlag and the absolute dread of going back to uni and two, moving my egregious amount of shit with a spiteful level of independence. the devils won every preseason game! dawson scored that clusterfuck of a goal on slide two and we also got to see goalie bonks again! (i told you those pics weren't in order and i meant it)

three, (or four, i forgot what came first) quinneth played his first regular season game as captain of the canucks ad they kicked ass against the edmonton dudes. goncrats captain ;p

four (probably) rookie had both his first reg season nhl game AND his birth on the same day! he cried on camera for thousands of viewers and made me question kidnapping his brother and locking him in an abandoned building in ohio (who am i kidding i don't want to be in ohio). the blue jackets have since been doing blue jacket things (losing)

five (it's all blended together these days) the devs started their regular season and now i get to go to the arena and watch in peace as nico makes dumb faces, jack gets into petty scrums and goes to the box (apparently? that ones new.) and dawson does dawson things (be hot)

sixth and finally, assistant coach and captain quinn (he should probably drop a title for his mental health, me thinks) turned 24! i giggled profusely at an edit of him as tracksuit rob. good job on aging, kid 🎉

that's all, i think. (probably not, what do i know)

view 712 comments..

jj.friar31: remember when we were roomies??? siblings defying the odds?? i've been left out to dry. i'm MARINATING in my loneliness. you've basically shot me and left me out for dead, blakey.

→ blakefriarr_: this is a touch dramatic, that's MY thing

→ jj.friar31: if i agree to never steal your dramatics again will you come back

→ blakefriarr_: have u seen how pretty my boyfriend is?? no dude

→ jj.friar31: blake pls

adamfantilli: of every picture you could've used you just decided to screenshot me crying

→ blakefriarr_: hi im blake have we met??

→ adamfantilli: also, do not kidnap luca.

→ blakefriarr_: oh so you just don't want my love?? is that what this is??

→ luca.fantilli: do not kidnap me

→ blakefriarr_: BOOORRRINNNGGGGG

nicohischier: every day i wonder what it would be like if we didn't let the ebug's come into the room

→ blakefriarr_: do you want dawson to be lonely and bitchless

→ nicohischer: yeah kinda??

→ blakefriarr_: oh

jackhughes: why.

→ blakefriarr_ ehehehe your bucket doing weird things

_quinnhughes: ??????? why am i tracksuit rob????

→ blakefriarr_: who else would be tracksuit rob

→ _quinnhughes: nobody needs to be tracksuit rob, friar.

→ _blakefriarr_: WRONG! you do :)

_connorbedard: am i who i are???

→ blakefriarr_: no apparently you are timbaland

→ _connorbedard: oh. okay?

→ adamfantilli: @/_connorbedard you get used to it

→ _connorbedard: do i want to??

→ adamfantilli: eh. 50/50

dawson1417: oh how i've missed the chaos

→ blakefriarr_: fbejdbsjshdghshsb

→ dawson1417: sometimes it's almost like you say words

→ blakefriarr_: :p i love you

→ dawson1417: i love you too, my girl <3

tannercharlotte: this is my reality tv

→ blakefriarr_: i'll leave him for u say the word

→ dawson1417: HEY??

→ blakefriarr_: shhhh baby go sleep

→ tannercharlotte: don't leave him b he doesn't have to know

ryangraves27: she back

→ blakefriarr_: i back!!

nhlblackhawks: ??

→ njdevils: don't '??' her she's right

→ blakefriarr_: thank you (trade for charlie)

→ nyrangers: i can excuse hawks slander but i draw the line at trying to take our char

→ nhlblackhawks: you can excuse hawks slander?

→ jj.friar31: why do teams keep doing this you have ENOUGH leverage over me

trevorzegras: am i bitch one or bitch two

→ trevorzegras: actually yk what don't answer that i don't wanna know

→ blakefriarr_: too bad you're actually both jamie is an angel

view more comments..

#ebug’s sister series ! #dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

[heavenlyakin]

Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Here's a little late Valentine's Day fic! Minors DNI.

Genre: mild angst, fluff, and smut (the holy trinity!) oh and a little comedy

Warnings: some light couple fighting/bickering, cunnilingus, fem reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Atsumu nearly loses it as you clench around him, body writhing beneath his. Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts open to let out another breathless moan. He fights back every urge he has to bust in you now, not wanting to end the pleasure for either of you. 

“Tsumu,” you whine, your eyes opening, glossy with love and lust.

He can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself. He cums deep inside you with a final thrust, his breath catching and then a groan escaping. He opens his eyes to look at you, but you start to fade from view. 

Atsumu wakes up abruptly, jerking his arms and sitting up. His forehead drips sweat as he shakes his head. Another wet dream, he realizes. Flipping the covers off him, he sees he’s made a mess of himself again. He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you’d just come home already. 

Looking over at his alarm clock, he sees it’s 3:34 am, just after lunchtime for you on the east coast of the United States. He never imagined you’d go no contact while visiting family back home, but he also never imagined you’d have such a detrimental fight just hours before your flight. 

–

2 Weeks Prior 

“That’s really close to Valentine’s day, right?”Atsumu asks you, peering over from the couch. You’re surprised to see he’s looked up from the volleyball game he put on half an hour ago. 

“Yeah, I’ll get back here on the 14th, actually.” You tell him, drying the final plate and putting it away in the cabinet. 

When you look back at Atsumu you see he’s frowning. 

“Look, I didn’t buy the ticket. If you have an issue with it, take it up with my dad.” You walk over, sitting down beside him on the sofa. 

He wraps his arm around you and you lean into him, curling up on the sofa beside him. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you sit with him in silence. He’s watching the Argentinian team again, the one you can never remember the name of. All you do know is that one of the players is from Japan and going to be playing in the upcoming Olympics against Atsumu this summer. You assume he’s keeping tabs on him. 

“What if you didn’t go? I’ll pay to change your flights so you go after Valentine’s day and once practices pick up and I’m not home as often. I-” 

“Atsumu, why don’t you want me to go home?” You snap, sitting up and moving his arm off your shoulder. “I haven’t been home in over a year and missed Christmas with them.” 

“Baby that’s not-” 

“No, it is. You’ve been whining about this trip since my dad booked the flight.” You stand up, storming out of the room and to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. 

Atsumu has never made a big deal about Valentine’s day before, given you’ve spent two previous together you didn’t think it would be bad getting in on that day. Sure, you’ll be jetlagged and exhausted, but you’d still be able to go out if he wanted to, but last year you had takeout in your pajamas after a particularly long practice. Why would it be any different, especially since his prep for the Olympics has already been so intense, and will only begin to pick up more?

Either way, he’s not getting his way this time. It's not like you’re keeping score, but you tend to give in to his wants more now that you’ve moved in together, even sacrificing Christmas with your family to spend it with his family and meet Osamu's baby. How does he not understand that you just need a few weeks to spend with your family as well? 

You grab your suitcase from the closet and begin to fill it, rather haphazardly. You’re more productive when you’re worked up, anyways so you might as well use the energy. Plus you leave tomorrow night, it’s not like you have too much longer to get your stuff together. 

A light rasping knock draws your attention to the bedroom door. “Baby, I’m sorry, I just am going to miss you is all.” He says opening the door and leaning on the frame, looking rather defeated. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him, going back to packing your bag. “I just need some time to pack and then sleep before the trip tomorrow.” Atusumu looks defeated but smiles anyways and leaves the room.

Even though it’s clear he feels terrible about pestering you, it’s too late now for your attitude to shift. It’s not like you enjoy your sudden shift in mood, but once you're feeling foul there isn’t much you or anyone else can do about changing it. Overall, it’s just better to let you ride it out. 

–

Your nails bite into your palm as the plane starts to land. Flying has always been fine, but the landing has always made you nervous, mainly because you hatehow it makes you bounce around. Luckily, you didn’t have anyone beside you for the flight back home to Japan, so you have been comfortable for the long journey. 

You find yourself picturing Atsumu fighting the airport traffic, cursing and threatening to honk at the people in front of him. Usually, he’s the one at fault, but you’ve learned to just let him rant and rave since he never actually makes a fool of himself to others… just threatens it. 

The next half hour goes by in a flash, it’s grabbing carry-ons, waiting in line, and fighting for bags at baggage claim. Next thing you know, your phone is buzzing with Atsumu’s picture as he calls you. 

“Hi baby,” you answer softly, but loud enough to be heard over the airport chaos. 

“I’m right outside your terminal. Are you already off the plane?” He asks, not sounding as excited as you expected him to be. 

“Yeah, I just grabbed my bags.” You tell him. 

“Alright.” He’s in a mood, you assume. He’s rarely this short with you. 

Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You hang up as you head towards the exit doors. 

You see his car before you’re out of the doors. He managed to get a good spot right up front. Dragging your suitcases behind you, you manage to make it to the car without pulling anything. You’d only brought a carry-on home, but your parents had gone overboard to make up for your missing Christmas, you had to pay for two checked bags to bring back. 

Atsumu jogs towards you, taking the bags from you and loading them into the car, silently. He smiled, but that’s the most affection you received from him. You slide into the passenger seat, pulling out your phone, and scrolling to find some pictures to show Atsumu on the drive home and tell him about your trip. He hadn’t texted you much during the time you were away, so you assumed it was because he was so busy with practices so you didn’t bother calling or texting him more either. 

Atsumu gets in the driver’s seat and starts to take off. “Want to see some of the pictures from my trip?” You wave your phone around smiling. “Everyone missed you this time.” 

“Everyone?” He side-eyes you, and you frown. 

“What’s up your ass?” You ask, putting your phone away in your pocket. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.” 

He sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder. “You texted me twice, in two weeks. You never called. You were angry when you left. So, sorry if I’m not the Mr. Sunshine you expected.” 

“You’re seriously mad at me?” you almost laugh but decide it’s better if you don’t. It’ll probably only antagonize him more. “You could have texted or called me, but you didn’t.” 

He looks over, his brows furrowed. Opening his mouth, it looks like he’s about to speak but then he closes it again, deciding against whatever he was going to say. 

“Happy fucking Valentine's Day.” You sigh, leaning against the door of the car, looking out at the city as it passes you by. 

The rest of the car ride home is deadly silent. Neither of you even bothered to put on the radio or Spotify. It’s awkward but you refuse to give an inch and apparently, Atsumu feels the same way. You sneak a glance at him as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment, seeing he looks exhausted. How hadn’t you noticed that before? 

Maybe you should give in, you think to yourself. Before you left you had been snippy with him, even if you felt like he was trying to get you to not visit home. It’s stupid, how high your temper can run without stopping over little things like silly comments. You hadn’t even thought about it while you were gone, only focused on visiting and getting back here; home. 

Atsumu parks the car, and you look over at him again. His knuckles are still white from gripping the steering wheel. 

“Let’s not fight anymore.” You suggest softly, knowing his stubbornness won’t let him give in. This could be worse than the Cold War if you let it continue. 

He sighs, his hand reaching up to his forehead. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair, pushing it back from his face. “It’s been hell. These last two weeks, absolutely agonizing.” He admits, leaning back against the seat and looking over at you. 

“I’m sorry, Tsumu, I didn’t know.” You tell him, reaching out and taking his hand. 

“Wanna know something funny, though?” He smiles, the silly grin you love so much. 

“Sure,” you squeeze his hand softly. 

“I kept dreaming about fucking you, I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He laughs, tilting his head back and looking at the roof of the car. “God, I even came a few times in my sleep. Can you believe it?” 

“Oh god,” you laugh with him, imagining the way he must have been mortified waking up to that not only once, but a few times. “Maybe we can make up for it after dinner tonight.” 

“Dinner?” He looks confused as you nod. 

“It’s still Valentine’s day. It’s not too late for us to get ready and go out. I can be fast,” you open the door and get out of the car. 

Atsume follows, popping the trunk and getting your luggage from the car. You're quiet again as you take the elevator up to the apartment, but not the awkward kind as you rode in during the trip home. You hold his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder when you can until you’re out of the elevator and making your way to the apartment. 

The next bit is a rush, playing out in front of you like it’s not real. Maybe it’s jetlag? You had just traveled for upwards of 18 hours. Or it’s the rush of knowing after weeks you’re finally going to sleep with your boyfriend again? Not even the dirty kind, just the excitement of sharing a bed, your bed, is exciting after weeks of sleeping in the guestroom of your parent's house. 

After your shower, you dress in an emerald green dress that has a golden sheen to the fabric. Underneath, you made sure to pick out Atusmu’s favorite pair of lingerie underneath a honey gold set with thigh straps attached to the thong. 

“Holy shit,” Atsumu leans against the door frame of the bathroom as you’re applying your last coat of mascara. 

You smile sweetly, turning to look at him. He’s dressed in navy blue slacks and a cream button-up shirt. “I’m ready to go.” 

Atsumu pulls you by your hand into him, wrapping his other arm around you. “I’m not.” 

He kisses you, pulling you closer against him so you’re flush with his body. Your dress rides up in his hand, exposing your ass. He smacks it once, making you yelp against his lips. He laughs deeply. 

“There’s no way we’re making it out tonight.” He mumbles, his voice gruff. 

You giggle as he pulls away, pulling you with him and pushing you against the bed. Your dress has now risen above your pelvis, bunched up underneath and around you. Atsumu takes one look and groans, smiling wildly at you. 

“You fucking angel,” he drops to his knees in front of you. He licks you over the fabric of your thong, sending shivers down your spine in anticipation. “Would it be stupid if I told you you taste sweeter than honey?” 

You laugh, sitting up on your elbows. “Yeah, a little. But I like it.” 

He grins at you from between your thighs. His tongue pokes out again, slowly circling the fabric over your clit. The teasing pressure is too much, you want his tongue on you. Whining, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and he pulls back. 

“Ah ah ah, no rushing this. I’ve literally been dreaming of it for weeks.” He says after pulling away and lying his face on your thigh. He looks ungodly pretty like this, and you hate him for it. 

“Please, Atsumu I need you.” You whine, pouting your lip out. 

He grins again. He loves seeing you beg, even when it’s as half-assed as that. You can’t be expected to give more though, after all the day is starting to wear on you. 

He pulls the thong aside and drags his finger down your cunt, covering it in your wetness. “Fuck, you’re so needy.” 

You nod, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back against the bed. As you bounce lightly against the mattress, Atsumu takes advantage, pressing his tongue against your clit. You moan, gripping the sheets and forcing yourself to stay still. 

He sucks lightly, sending waves of pleasure from your spine to your toes. 

“Fuck me,” you whimper, eyes fluttering open to watch him as he eats you out. He doesn't notice, too lost in you to care about what else is going on. His tongue slides down, teasing your entrance when you feel his fingers slip in. 

The stretch overwhelms you. You can't keep your eyes open now, closing them tight as he starts to finger fuck you while sucking your clit again. 

“Tsumu, of god,” you mumble out with moans traced between words and syllables. 

Gripping the bedding harder, you fight back the overwhelming urge to cum now. You hadn’t even masturbated while you were gone, and now it’s so much at once you’re struggling to stay afloat. Atsumu must know, the way he flicks his tongue and twists his fingers in sync sends you over and you cry out. Cumming you can’t help but arch your back and press your cunt further against Atsumu’s pretty face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant quietly, trying to regain some composure after the waves of pleasure start to roll off you. 

“Oh, Angel, you barely lasted five minutes.” He crawls on top of you, his face shiny from being between your thighs. He kisses you softly on the lips. 

“Who can blame me?” You laugh, taking his face in your hands. You kiss him again, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion taking over your body. “I doubt you’ll last much longer.” 

You push him off you, flipping positions. 

You pray he cums quickly as you pull his pants down his thighs. Not for any normal reasons but you’re not sure you can stay awake much longer. The eager look on his face suggests you might not have to.

#🍃.writing #atsumu miya smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut

[daydreamvalley]

October Sunsets (2) - nanami kento

𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧Summary: You accidentally stole Nanami’s phone, unaware about the dire situation he is occupied with in Shibuya.

Contents: Anime-only safe. Angst + mentions of extreme bodily injury & death.

Read part 1

11:36 pm. Way to go. Nanami must think I’m an obsessed freak. One that forces situations to happen, so he’d think about me. You thought to yourself if he didn’t think you were clumsy before, he should now. For the past twenty-two minutes you’ve been goggling at his phone, that had already lost power. Yours, however, could be a saving grace right now. Taking it out of your tote bag you texted Shoko, the only colleague at Jujutsu Tech you were acquainted with. The message was split into multiple inane short texts: Hello. I know you guys are busy right now, but please let Nanami know I’m sorry I took his phone! I promise I only realized, like, right now and-

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

Your mother’s contact appeared on your screen, previewing messages that contained videos. She called right before departing to wish you safe travels and the promise of funny videos to help you stay entertained, so you swipe away her texts assuming they were just unfunny skits from somewhere.

Continuing your imploring to Shoko: Please just say that first. That I’m sorry. Also, he can meet me on Monday, November 5th. I’ll return it then fly back to Denmark. Tell him he’ll get lots of pastries and souvenirs! After hitting send, it did register that the last bit of the message was unnecessary, but the nerves of the situation got to you. Going into your mother’s chats, you see an influx of exclamations. “Shibuya is being destroyed!”, “Are you still in the plane?”, “Answer me!!”, “Your uncle sent me this one”, “Please be safe out there, love you”. You watch a low-quality video, hearing your family member’s voice in the background crying out in fear. A plane was being set ablaze mid-air, hurling a loud roar as it dropped from the sky into Shibuya. The tragedy was clear as day, even though the video is taken at night. Highlighting the combusted object. Your hands tremble. Were you safe? Unable to hold the phone upright, you felt like this was wrong to watch. He’s on call, but where? No. stop thinking like that, he’s obviously saving civilians right now. Nanami’s far too competent to be a victim to that destruction. Thumping tortured your head as you catastrophized.

“Miss. Are you feeling ill?” The flight attendant sounded like she was under a body of water. “Hold my hand and follow my breathing.”

The video continued playing, showing a city turning into hell. The lens turned to reveal the shocked faces of people witnessing the horror. It never stopped playing until a pair of hands whisked your device away from a weak grip, then lightly turned your head so you could meet a calm women’s face.

~

8:00 am, November 5th, Monday, Tokyo. You hug Nanami’s blazer tighter against your layered outfit, when then the breeze enters the cafe. A cold gust sings alongside the crackling sounds of an old espresso machine. Elevating the emptiness and lack of conversation in the room. How could anyone start a conversation? It feels like the moment anyone utters a word; we all expect the events of Shibuya to pour out. No one wants to talk about. At least for a little while. Not while the wound is still fresh. In your peripheral you see the screen of a phone turn on, next to you on the leather couch. The red dusk of the sunset on your friends lock screen includes a notification, telling you its fully charged. You unplug and bring it to your face to have a closer at the photo, but the phone unlocks from facial recognition. Taken aback you immediately turn it off, shutting your eyes. You hold a tighter grip on it, because it’s a reminder of how you aren’t ready.

Not yet.

You decide to lean into the couch, to stay longer at the establishment. The jetlag is kicking in and it doesn’t help that you ran into an unwanted conversation with a coworker when you walked in. The one-sided chat consisting of the only depressing topic everyone is taking part in. It left your coffee cold, and now you needed to rest for a bit. If not, you could walk out of the café without a clear mind. Looking either drunk or sleep deprived. Most likely the latter. The insurance company was next door and the possibility of running into more people is a headache. To call your flight back to the city a miracle, would be an understatement. From October 31st, flights coming in and out of Japan were prohibited, just when you desperately needed to come back home. Only five days have passed since the incident.

For four days, you found yourself alternating between locking yourself up in a Denmark-airport hotel, then running around pleading with the airport’s many front desk’s about when you could leave. Not caring if you’d get fired for abandoning your work trip. Your mothers’ yells across the phone would be a comforting reoccurrence, in which she is begging you to stay in Denmark, since the situation was getting worse back home. For four days, only your mother would call, while you unfortunately entertained the thought of your loved one’s death once you came back. Even as you arrive back, the chaos resumes. No warm hugs from a worried family greeted you.

You colleagues were radio silent, dealing with their own grief. Your mother and uncle were evacuated to a different city. Leaving you with one more fear. No sign of Nanami. Shoko didn’t answer your calls from Wednesday to the early mornings of today, until the dreadful call. The call you had with her just one hour ago, which somehow led you to instinctively catch a taxi to this very café.

Just as you settle into drifting asleep, a ring awakens you. It’s coming from your phone. “Shoko”, displayed on the lock screen, and hesitantly you pick up.

“I can see you from here. I’m crossing the light pole to the café entrance.” Shoko says, as you see her tall figure approach, dressed in a lab coat. She stops outside the door to throw her cigarette into a bin. Chimes can be heard as she walks in. You stiffen. Staying seated on the coach, you can’t help but feel nauseous as she walks up to you. She stops above you, striving her best smile. “So quiet in here. Wish it were like this outside.” She gets comfortable next you on the couch. Making sure to observe the blazer as she continues, “You must have been in disarray; your luggage is here.”

You face her in silence, nodding your head in acknowledgement. The two of you stare at each other, competing to see who will address the matter. Inhaling deeply, you try, “Thanks for meeting me here. Why’d- ‘’

You clear your throat to not get choked up. “No.” You straighten your back to speak clearer, “What were you doing when you called me?”

“Sorry?” Shoko inquires, and you stay silent, reading her eyes. “I was…sitting at the park.” She says pointing in the direction behind her, confused.

“So, you weren’t occupied with something urgent or intense?”

“Not really.”

“You didn’t think to wait for my arrival or ask us to meet somewhere. You were just going to causally call me and tell me that “I’m sorry. Nanami didn’t make it”, hang up on me, then leave me to go with the rest of my day!” You shakily burst out.

Shoko looks at you with widened eyes and observes around the room self-consciously. You two were the only customers in the café, now filling the silence. She places her palm on your shoulder, to ease the tension, but you non-aggressively remove it.

“I admit, you didn’t have to hear it that way. I just didn’t know who to call. Everyone was pestering me. They still are and I couldn’t handle it. I only saw your messages yesterday and the burden of telling you the news was too much. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just…a lot.” Shoko was now tearing up. The pressures of her position were breaking her, as each day passed by, with more wounding alerts of her dying colleagues.

You stand up from your spot. “Let’s talk outside, I’m getting dizzy in here.” You respond half-heartedly.

Shoko follows you into the chill winds hoping for a smoother flowing discussion.

“Please, Shoko. Where is he? I know I’m a non-sorcerer so I can’t even enter your facility, but at least tell me-“

“Even if I could. I can’t let you see that- him I mean.”

“That? Shoko help me out here, please! It’s the least you could do. God, this is so unfair.” You lament to her.

“There’s nothing I can do. He’s- its bad. His lower body is the only remaining part we can recover from Shibuya.” Shoko winces and covers her mouth, shocked by her own blunt words.

You bit your lip as tears marked your face. His lower body. Her mechanical way of describing things made sense in her occupational context, but this was too harsh. With staggered breaths you ask, “Where is he?” You ache as you reiterate. You now know the answer. He was still in there. That hell. It was never a possibility in your mind. Nanami not making it back home. While the world just begun to know about sorcery after the massacre, it wasn’t unfamiliar to you. In detail, he’d go over his workday like it were any other mundane job. The stories of the students he so greatly cared for, the loss of his dearest friend in high school, and all the dangers of the mystique of this world he was in. Never, did you imagine you’d have to worry about his potential death. In his eyes, he is someone who simply strives to do the best he can. You wish he could see himself in your eyes.

Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit. He’d boldly reaffirm that to you with sunken eyebags, every time you two would talk about your workday in the café. Yet, he never left sorcery. Everyday you’d be reassured of how hard-working he really is. That same attitude that you admire in him, is one of the many traits that made you want to be a permanent part of his life. Whether he accepted your affections or not, wasn’t the point, everyone deserves to have such a dependable force in their life. Now, you cannot accept that this is happening.

“I understand him now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hate how the higher-ups do things. What’s happening right now is showing their true colors.”

“You can do unimaginable things compared to most doctors. The ability to reserve techniques, right? That’s what Nanami told me.” You ask her, not expecting a response. Maybe this was a way for you to cope with the fact that even people as powerful as her can’t fix everything.

“Yes. I know there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better. I can’t even begin to tell you why we can’t save the rest of his body right now. I don’t want to hurt you more. I know how much you mean to him, it’s only right that I informed you.”

You chuckle at her words, “The damage has already been done. No?”

She looks to the ground in defeat. Agreeing that nothing was going to assist the emotional affliction.

“You want to know what hurts more? Is that I’ll never know why. You could try to explain it to me, though I doubt you would. Still, I’m too far removed from it all. I don’t want to know who did it, or what.” Wiping your face, you make your back the door, “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. Take care.” Not looking back, you head straight for the bathroom. Hiding yourself in one of the stalls, you drop down to your knees. One hand on the stall wall, as the other to opens the toilet seat while you begin to hurl. His lower body is still there. It’s an unsettling scene. You hurl and cry simultaneously. The chronic exhaustion was making a physical appearance, yet the object of your sorrow was thinking about how tired he must have been. Meeting his end, without getting to grow old, but the pressures of his sorcery.

~

7:00 pm, November 12th, 2018, Kuantan, Malaysia. The ocean sends shimmering beams of light into your bedroom. You sit on your bed in a daze, taking in your flat’s perfect view of the ocean’s peaking sunset across the horizon. Now it’s been twelve days since the Shibuya massacre and the beginning of a new era of havoc. Other than frequent check-ins with family, you haven’t spoken to anyone else since your last conversation with Shoko. Most of all, you won’t bother yourself with the current events taking place in Shibuya. This isn’t a retreat. You were abandoning your duties to escape, with the illusion of closure. It made you worse. Your way of grieving is running away to the place Nanami raved on about. Where is the closure?

“Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit.”

His words echo when you think about home, but not in a negative way. You just can’t help but recollect these words because they represent your overall memory of him. Nanami always had this weird way of saying bold and sometimes controversial statements but in a well-informed or manner. You miss his politeness. How much of a gentleman he was to you and all women around him. You miss the safety. You loved knowing that your coworkers thought he was boring and uptight, because with you the formalities would drop, and you’d be left breathless from his jokes. You would give anything to hear his dry jokes again. You loved knowing that you saw that side of him. When he was not burnt out by work and had the energy to send you two out and about in town to shop, try food, or take aimless walks in the city. You love him, and he will never know.

I think I’m ready.

You grab Nanami’s cream-white blazer from next to you, to take out his phone. He trusted you enough to be another recognizable face on his device. Claiming he had nothing to hide and whatever he had on it most likely was cleaner than yours. You only used this privilege to take pictures of yourself and make it his wallpaper. Every now and then, those same pictures of you would remain on this lock screen. You think back to when you asked him if he wasn’t worried his sorcerer friends would ask who you are, then he’d reply that they wouldn’t ask, because they already know you. Such memories now cross your mind. That comfortability is missing.

You used to doubt your importance to him. Having each other’s extra apartment keys and phone passwords was not enough for you. When his reason for these two instances was to ensure you both have someone to depend on in case of emergencies, your mind was clouded with romance. You face the front camera to unlock the phone, revealing a typical home screen. Organized and easy to navigate. Since you’ve been in possession of it you never opened it. Where would you even begin. What was the point. Would you forget him that quickly without his phone? His camera roll consisted of you, screenshots of songs, meals and a substantial number of sunsets. Chime. A reminder displays on his screen. It has two exclamation marks indicating it is high priority. Deciding you didn’t want to go into his apps anyway, you read the reminder:

Send the birthday message on notes tomorrow!!

Tomorrow is your birthday. Without thinking you navigate to the notes. You scroll down completed grocery lists and to-do lists to reach one note titled, “Her birthday plans”. In bullet points he writes: Returns from work trip November 12th. Haneda Airport. Plan A, surprise flowers? Cook dinner for her at my place (might seem be pushy if she doesn’t feel that way)?

If Plan A fails, aquarium. Obsessed with stingrays. Early Christmas presents! Christmas plans?

Weeps escape your mouth as you read the notes. These notes started to make you feel less insignificant to him than you thought you before. You didn’t just lose Nanami. You lost a potential future of longer city walks, Christmas dinners, and more nonsense-bred conversations. His relatives probably don’t know what has happened. You may have felt unimportant in the midst of his complex and action-filled life, but this circumstance would force you to introduce yourself to his family in the worst way. You aren’t merely an ex-coworker. You are his dependable companion and friend during an emergency. Those emergencies may be mundane compared to the danger he faced daily, but he still trusted you to follow through.

How would you introduce him to your mother? If he was also merely the ex-coworker her daughter hangs out with, can she understand this profound grief?

You hang around the note app, noticing one more titled, “For her.”

There is no one else more deserving of delighting in this day than you. You tell me you do not care much for today, which I understand the reasons, but I am grateful for another year of you. Every time you feel like abandoning it all because you’re so tired I want you to remember your birthday. Yes, a reminder of the gift of time. When it all becomes too exhausting for you, there is my door. Waiting for its only other owner to arrive when she’s ready.

We are becoming so much more. I sometimes wonder if I carry this desire of wanting to become more with you, a bit more than you. With the gift of time, I will try to express my feelings better.

You bring ease to those of us around you. You are lovelier and more perfect than tranquil seas. A calming force which the drifting autumn leaves cannot try to compete with.

I love you. Wholeheartedly.

You hug at the blazer on your lap. Staining it with tears. Picking up your cellphone to walk to your bedroom balcony, opening the camera app, you hope. As you take an image of the rosy horizon, you hope. You hope that these memories won’t become such a painful occurrence in the future. With every passing day, signs of a day turning into evening would make it difficult for you to forget him.

The end! I'm sorry like really sorry. I wanted to see a realistic story depicting the aftermath of his death but I couldn’t find any. So I wrote it??

I have a happy story in mind if anyone is up to read it<3

Taglist for the sweethearts who were looking forward to to this: @akstormm @rain-moto @salimahbicharara-comun 💕

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #jjk manga #nanami imagine #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #nanami angst #nanami imagines #nanami scenarios #nanami one-shot #jjk oneshot #nanami x black!reader #jjk haibara #nanami headcanons #jjk moodboard #jjk shibuya arc #nanamin #nanami smut #ao3

[jerzwriter]

Objections: Reunited? (3/3)

Book:                   Crimes of Passion (Book 2)

Pairing:                Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose)

Category: Chapter Rewrite - Ch. 4

Rating:                 Teen

Series:   After reading Chapter 4, I felt one scene could have been expanded on, one should have been added, and one could have been better. So, I took a stab at it (pun intended ).

Part Three: After a couple of emotionally grueling days, Trystan and Carolina finally get a moment alone, but it doesn't go as either expected.

Words: 1,750

A/N: I was disappointed with the final scene between Trystan x MC. While I absolutely feel they could have snapped at each other under the circumstances they were in, I don't think the scene captured the closeness, respect, or concern that was always present in Book 1. While I didn't change the scene drastically, I changed the dialogue and some elements that brought it closer to how I imagined it would go. I hope you enjoy it.

SERIES MASTERLIST | COP MASERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

Carolina anxiously looked at her watch. It was just shy of 7:00 PM, and her wandering mind was getting the better of her. It had been nearly ten hours since she last saw Trystan, and she was sure she hadn’t gone this long without hearing from him since the day she barged into his life. Not even at the beginning when she sometimes desperately needed a reprieve from the man... Trystan always managed to find a way to be... there.

Curled up in a chair in the palace’s library, she tried to pinpoint when everything changed. When his omnipresence went from an annoyance, to a reality and, finally, to what it was now, cherished. Something she relied upon more than she even knew, though she knew she never wanted to do without it again. In reality, they hadn’t known each other very long, but what is time when you meet someone that makes you feel as if your souls have been intertwined forever.

She placed the only English language book she could find down on an end table. A dusty old tome about Drakovian war history wasn’t about to hold her attention today. She spent most of it holed up in her suite. With the exception of Marguerite, everyone made it abundantly clear that her presence was not welcomed, and her room felt like the safest place to wait.

Luke and Ruby attempted to take her sightseeing, knowing it would be best to keep her mind occupied. But they knew she’d never leave without ensuring Trystan was all right first. Jetlagged, and with the emotion of recent days catching up to her, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, and wherever it traveled, it left her more anxious than before.  

All this had her off her game because she had never heard the footsteps coming up from behind. Her first indication that he was near was two warm hands covering her eyes, and for once, her visceral reaction was not to take the perpetrator out.

“Guess who, gorgeous?”

Her body slumped against his, her tension visibly released with just three words from his lips. The castle suddenly felt smaller; she was no longer alone.

“I don’t know? Is it my new Drakovian boyfriend, Milosh? Or perhaps someone more sinister.”

“Milosh, huh?” Trystan’s hands dropped to her waist, and he pulled her close. “I never liked that guy. I’m going to have him fired at once.”

“Is that all? That’s pretty mild. I thought a guillotine might be involved here in Drakovia.”

Trystan smiled softly as he spun her around to face him. “You’re not wrong. That’s the least of what would befall anyone who dared to steal you from me.”

Her arms looped around his neck, and they lost themselves in a tender kiss. A moment’s pleasure in a sea of turmoil.

“No one is stealing you from me,” she insisted. 

“Good,” Trystan smiled, the relief in his eyes more than Carolina had expected to see as he gently tugged her toward a nearby sofa. He let out a loud yawn as he settled down.

“It has been a long day,” she smiled.

“Long days,” he corrected. “And this one was quite unexpected.”

“What happened after I left? What happened with your parents?”

“Well,” he ran a hand down his weary face. “They weren’t joking when they said ‘effective immediately.’ I think I’ve met with no fewer than five foreign dignitaries, sat through two lectures, and had one very long lunch where I was to prove I still know how to behave at the table. Oh, and I knighted a snake.”

“A snake?”

“It wasn’t any old snake, dear. It did rescue its owner – a marchioness – from the wolf that got onto her property.”

“Hmmm, and all I’ve done is save a Drakovian princess from a serial killer.”

“You make an excellent point. I suppose the realm owes you a tap on the shoulder with a sword. I’ll see if I can get to it after the hundred other things I have on my plate.”

“A damehood is nothing I’ve ever aspired to, so allow me to take that off your list of things to do. But, these other hundred things... what exactly do you need to do?”

“Well,” he sighed. His fingers curled tightly around her hand, but for once, words seemed to fail him. Carolina felt her blood growing colder with every second of silence that fell between them.

“We have a flight out tomorrow afternoon...is that still happening?”  

“About that,” Trystan whispered. “I was hoping I might convince you to stay.”

“Stay? I’ve been afraid to eat my food with the way I’ve been treated here... why would you think I... wait... you want to stay?”  

“I...I’m not sure.”

“Trystan,” she gasped, clutching his hand tighter. “Did you think this was a possibility?”

“To be reinstated as heir,” he replied, eyes wide. “No... I never expected to be found innocent, much less be called upon to be the next in line once again.”

“So, then tell them no. After all they’ve put you through... You don’t want this... do you?”

“Carolina, I don’t know what I want. I need time to get my head around what happened today.”

“What’s there to get around? I saw the look on your face when your father made the announcement – you don’t want this! I know you don’t!”

Trystan’s eyes flashed with surprise and hurt as he pulled his hand from hers.

“I don’t appreciate that tone!” He huffed. “It’s amazing that you know what I want when I don’t know that myself!”

“You don’t appreciate my tone? Trystan, I put my whole damn life on hold to come here and be with you, and I...”

“I didn’t ask you to!”

“You didn’t have to! Don’t you understand how much you mean to me? Do you think I’d leave you to face bullshit murder charges alone?”

“No! But I didn’t think you’d leave me to face this on my own either!”

“That’s not fair! I’m not some exiled princess with a bottomless trust fund, Trystan! I’m a private investigator who lives above a bar. People like me don’t just get to put their lives on hold without consequences.”

“If money’s the problem, I can help you.”

“What? I don’t want your money! And that’s far from my only concern! My life is in New York! And I’m not wanted here. I’m not so sure you are, either. Think about it! They abandoned you and were willing to put you away for life just yesterday! It took Luke and me one afternoon to find proof that you were innocent! They had eight freaking years and more resources than we could imagine, and they didn’t do it? And you’re going to trust them?”

“It’s not all about them, Carolina! You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to live your life, but you don’t know what it’s like to live mine! My obligations are to more than just my family! There is a country... a country full of people who deserve to have a leader who cares about them! A leader that would turn Drakovia into the country Juliana and I envisioned!”

Carolina stepped back, her face softening as realization began to wash over her.

“Wait,” she whispered as she began moving back toward him. “Juliana... is that why? Trystan,” she whispered, taking his hand back in hers. “I understand you want to honor her, to fight for what she believed in, but I think Juliana would want you to be happy.”

“You didn’t know her,” he shot back. “How could you know what she’d want?”

“I... I didn’t know her... so... perhaps you’re right. But I know what it feels like to care about you this much, and I know I’d only want you to be happy... from what you’ve told me about Juliana... I can’t imagine she’d feel differently.”

Trystan turned to Carolina; his tear-filled eyes were heavy with exhaustion.

“Don’t you want me to be happy now?” He asked.

“Yes. Of course, I do...” Her voice cracked with emotion, and Trystan pulled her into his arms, holding her close with all his might.

“And I would be the entitled, selfish ass my family believes me to be if I expected you to care about my happiness while I didn’t care about yours. I’m ashamed to say it, but there was a time when I’d be comfortable doing such a thing to someone I cared for so deeply. Believing my needs mattered more than all others. But that’s not who I am anymore, and I don’t want to return to being that way.”

Carolina burrowed her face into Trystan’s shoulder, allowing his jacket to absorb the few tears she couldn’t hold at bay.

“So, what does that mean for us?” she cried. “If what you need, and what I need to be happy... are a world away?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I know I don’t want to lose you.”

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind, then.”

Trystan extended his arms, holding Carolina by the shoulders as he looked into her eyes.

“I haven’t. I’d tell you if I did. I’m sorry, Carolina. The past few days have been grueling, and this probably wasn’t the best time for me to bring this up with you.”

“It’s all right. I’m not in the best place to have this conversation, either.”

Trystan placed a kiss on the top of her head, gently stroking her hair as her arms encircled him.

“Luckily for us, we don’t have to have all the answers tonight,” he whispered. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said all night,” Carolina teased.

“Agree,” he chuckled. “But if I’m going to sleep, I’d like to do it with you in my arms.”

“I’m not supposed to be in your room.”

“Really? That didn’t stop you last night,” Trystan smirked. “Please. I need you.”

“I need you, too,” Carolina replied with a kiss. Trystan extended his hand.

“Come with me. If I see that we’re being watched along the way, I’ll devise another plan.”

“I like that,” she smiled. “You take over the private eye duties for the night.”

Carolina nuzzled her head into his shoulder, his presence making an unwelcoming place feel more like home. But the detective in Carolina never rested, and as they approached Trystan’s room, something felt wrong. She lifted her head from his shoulder just as he reached for the door. 

“Trystan, that smell... do you...”

“Oh, no!”

~~~

Yeah, another day, another dead body. lol Let's see what PB has planned for us in Chapter 5.

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Other tags in Reblog.

#choices fanfic #playchoices #choices the stories you play #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #choices crimes of passion #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #trystan thorne x f!mc #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #playchoices fanfic

[pinkhoneydrop]

It’s a Game pt.4

[ A/n ] - part 4 already :) this series is coming along pretty well I think, and I hope y’all are still interested in what’s to come next, I’m trying out some new things with the set up I kind of like it 😅 not sure if I’ll keep it in the future but I wanted to try :)

[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!, Dylan O'Brien x Reader!

[ Genre ] -  angst

[ Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3  and Part 5 ]

[ Masterlist ]

[ warnings ] - strong language, sensitive themes and drug use.

in no way do I think the real people portrayed act like this it’s just for story purposes if I changed the names of the characters they would be total independent of the actual people who I have chosen to represent them

[ “Y/n’s” song ] is “bet u wanna” by Sabrina Carpenter I don’t have any rights to the song and it’s here if you wanna play while you listen :)

///

As much as it looked like you were having a mature conversation harry knew this was the start of you icing him out. You were an expert at it. The last time this happened you didn’t speak for two weeks 5 days and 11 hours. Not that anyone was counting but still. He hated it.

And then he gets that ding on his phone again. The little discolored banner under the clock display and that fucking chime he has set for all your socials. He fumbled with the screen and then after it unlocks there you are. Soft skin and even softer lips curled into a delicious smirk. You know, the one you have on your face when you tease him that he loves on nobody else. If anyone looked at Harry’s recent likes from his burner account, all they would find would be pictures of you. Selfies, fit checks, nights out with friends, concerts. Just anything that had to do with you. And his Apple Music was filled with your recommendations. But you weren’t his, yet. Harry was working on that part. Nether of you were seeing other people and you always left with him no matter who you went out with. But somehow. Somehow you always got away from him. He longed for when he had you with him, near him, beside him, under him…

He didn’t hear from you again for a while. Assuming he should leave you be, harry did not give in to his desire to at least call you. That was until tonight. The soft buzzing of your phone was felt from the pocket of your jeans. Lean finger reached and slipped the device out from its confinement,

“Harry…”

And it was just the way you said his name he felt a sense of relief wash away from him. Holding the phone away from his ear he smiled when he saw your contact. It was a photo of you asleep on a plane he snapped.

“Darling?” Harry called out to you with a crack in his voice. You were immediately concerned. Harry didn’t usually sound so…meek and shy when on the phone with you.

“Harry are you alright?” You lowered the volume of your phone and stepped out of the gathering you were at. The idea that something was wrong made you want to stay on the phone with him. Somehow you felt guilty as the words came from the speaker.

“Need you. I-I” his voice was incoherent, and the words didn’t make sense. Glancing at the phone you saw it was almost 5 am where he was. Jetlag was common but you doubted that’s what was happening. You heard shuffling and glass clanking in the background of the call.

“Did too much, need you.” A soft whine left his lips as he pinched his nose. In the past when the powder was too much you would drop everything to be with him. Many nights that he didn’t remember just like he wouldn’t remember calling you and more than likely resume trying to forget you again as you gave him the silent treatment.

“Harry I am at home I can’t come be with you right now.”

“Please I need you, I’ll buy the ticket. Please…?”

You almost ended the call right there. How could he be so oblivious to what was happening? The photos off him with that woman crossed your path everywhere you went. “Have you seen what’s being said the photos are everywhere…of you and her. And you decided to get high?”

The happiness he felt from the drugs was starting were off the longer he heard you through the phone. Strangely his hazy idea of trying to guilt you into coming to his aid to apologize was back firing. He knew exactly who you were talking about. Olivia. He swallowed hard and the thought of you hurt by his words.

“I bet you she was with you tonight…right?

Your words were sharp, and they stuck in the flesh of his mind. His head spun as he set his phone on the counter in front of him. How did he come to be in this moment? Wanting one thing so much that he pushed it away subconsciously out of the fear of losing it. He couldn’t tell you a lie and he couldn’t tell you the truth either. So, he decided to just stare at the phone. To look at the timer at the top of the screen and see how long it would take you to end the call.

The click was abrupt, but you lasted longer than he thought. What he didn’t know was that after you hung up the phone you broke down. Not being there for him was like a nightmare for you. The silence that took up part of your life was deafening for both you and Harry. Maybe he’s not what you need in your life. You were out when he called. It might have been early for him, but it was late into the night for you.  you escaped the bar to answer his call.

So here you sat. tears on your cheeks and eyelashes. Sitting on the curb outside a random bar in Florida. The heat making your hair puff up and the fabric of your jeans cling to your skin uncomfortably. Your phone was slipping out of your fingers and your shoes were sitting in a puddle full of who knows what. You felt empty as the streetlights and signs glowed in tandem with passing cars. The sun wouldn’t be up for hours, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep once home.

Harry took his phone and threw it across the room. He wasn’t angry with you in fact he respected you so much that he agreed with all your choices. He was mad with himself and admittedly still a little high. The sun would be up on his side of the world in just a few minutes. And as he walked into the bedroom of the hotel, he was checked into he felt sick. Tears threatened his blank resolve as he watched the sheets move to reveal the blonde woman in his bed. He regretted it.

The following months were busy for both of you. Turns out when you aren’t worried about girls and drugs and will he, won’t he “situationships” you can get a lot done. Harry continued to tour and in between shows he had been spotted in various locations with Olivia and when you saw them out together it hurt less and less each time. It was easy to say you both tried to move on until you saw one another again.

Penn and Asara flew out to L.A. with you for a small trip. Coincidentally Harry was in town for an extra show and some press. While he was booked up for appearances, he had Olivia in tow. Your friends saved you the trouble of being worried about showing up to the same places. You were on one side of town, and he was on the other. You saw Harry again at a party in downtown L.A., a rooftop event that was invite only.  The night was exceptionally normal until you saw him propped up against a high-top table chatting with a mutual friend of yours.

“Y/n! come over here were just chatting away.” Your friend didn’t know everything that was going on as most people didn’t. The atmosphere must have noticeably changed as your friend discreetly slunk away into the crowd as you eyed Harry up and down. Harry felt out of place as soon as he saw you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be leaving with him was depressing in the least for him.

“I know you probably hate me now and-” you cut him off before he could finish the word vomit.

“I don’t hate you.” You wish you did, but it was impossible.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What? You kicking me out? Or you and Olivia?” You might not hate him, but you sure did sound like you wanted to hurt him. The words stung to hear just as much as they did to say. Harry sighed and downed the last of the tequila he was nursing.

“When you’re ready then darling.” His voice was raspy, and he walked away fast not wanting to be stabbed by more of your sharp words. You didn’t want to talk right now about any of it. He was still parading around with that woman and the fans were still speculating but no one knew what was happening.

Liked by @/dylanobrien, @/assa22, and 423,903 others

@/yyy/nn3 fancy seeing you here <3

y/nfan44 HOW DOES SHE KNOW HIM??

Dylanfan7 Hold uppp they might be my new ship.

y/nharryshipper Woah this was not on my 2022 bingo card.

Harryfan92 Is this mystery man?? is that why she didn't talk about harry???

Dylan was kind and supportive and you always knew where you stood with him. He asked you out about two months ago and you said no the first time he asked. Part of you felt like he would be good for you, but the other part felt guilty. You definitely still had feelings for harry.

“We can be casual…if that’s what you want.” Dylan called you the second you landed in L.A. wanting to see you.

“Casual isn’t fair to you.”

“Listen, nothing is serious right now it’s one date.”

You agreed reluctantly. That was three days ago and now here he was in your hotel room being featured on your live and on your Instagram. Harry saw the photo almost immediately after you posted. He was out at a café with Olivia the day after you went live. He never turned off your notifications and he still liked every post you made. Except for this one. You weren’t in it, but he still stared at it. He knew exactly where it was taken too. It made him feel uneasy thinking of you with another man. Thinking of you not wanting him in your life. He finally understood how you had been feeling about the woman sat across from him now.

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[onlyswan]

hi art 💓 so im rereading iw couples breakup drabble as one would do everytime shes on her period (its a canon event i think ppl would relate) and i have a few questions!!! 🥹🦋

1. what were the iw couple doing before they were in the car? like did they spend the day only to then break up? i rmb reading that jk was on tour, did he came back and break up w them right away? did he at least get them a present???!

2. what events led him to the decision? we know that prob he’s overwhelmed, the uncertainty of his career and the drabble from where he saw how draining it is on oc. but is there a bigger thing that happened?

3. u wrote that he “practiced” breaking up with oc. like is this true? how long has he thought of breaking up w oc before he actually did it? and how did oc not expect anything??? ☹️☹️

4. who is this “not married yet” girl that jk was teasing tae about? that sounds so saucYY a drabble for that would be super fun!! its gonna be super angsty too!!! hahahahhaha

5. we know jk regretted it right away after breaking up w oc, but why didn’t he backtrack and take it back? i know oc must’ve thought hes crazy but he didnt even call or text first? us reading is comforted by knowing that jk is also having the worst time, but oc doesn’t. yet theyre brave enough to be the one who reached out first, bc for all they know, jk could be with some other people right now, alr over them. did oc know that he’s not that kind of person or deep down they’re just being as brave as they can asking for what they wants which is him?

6. can we pleaseeeee have more drabbles where we can see how much the boys adore oc? or just their dynamic i would say. also do they have a special connection with each of the boys on different things? like maybe a drabble where jk & oc pack a homemade lunch to bring when visiting jin hobi or yoongi 🥹🥹

7. after the initial breakup, were things ever awkward? were there times when oc had to get used to him being in their life again or something less dramatic? did he ever see doubts or worry in oc’s eyes and is the even when he gave u reasons to drabble, the first time they had to address the traumatic event in their relationship? do they ever talk about it now? or laugh about it?

8. what happened with the “someone else i met in a bar turned out to be a jerk”??? when was this?! HAHAHHA jk must’ve lost his fucking mind after learning about this

9. kinda curious has there been a time when jk really needs quality time w oc and just brings her on tour? my dream is becoming a tour wifey so this would hit all the right spot:( esp w how easy he handled the situation from the last drabble of just inviting her to come w him. cutest ☹️

thank you so much for providing one of my comfort fics!! i hope ure having a great day🌷🥹

oh!! also!! i think we’ve never seen iw couple be on a date date, like fancy super dressed up date. is that just not them? can we see more of their date nights??

heyyy beloved i missed you 🥺🥺🥺 omg???

there are two types of onlyswan readers: one - those who reread the period drabbles then they’re on their period / two - those who reread the breakup drabble when they’re on their period 😭😭😭

ALRIGHT [cracks knuckles]

1. he broke up with oc as soon as he arrived back from tour 🥲 like literally. our guy was still jetlagged. he just wasn’t in his right mind at the time honestly. oc hopped in the car thinking they were going to spend time together someplace else but… yk what happened… ofc he got oc lotssss of presents though </3 including those gifts he talked about in the video oc watched before they called him :(

2. at the time they were already making plans about what will happen in the next few years of their career including the m word ehem ehem so. yeah he was overwhelmed and tired and he felt guilty of having to always leave oc + we know how oc is so empathetic so he also felt guilty that they have to carry his burdens as well ☹️

3. probably a month 🤨 but he didn’t actually want to break up with oc yk? it felt more like a thing that he had to do </3 so oc never suspected anything because the way he was acting towards them never changed. he wanted to hold on.

4. LMAOOOOO maybe in the future i’ll get around to that 🤞🏼 but tae was going through it for reaaaaal

5. he didn’t jump out the car to chase oc because him immediately changing his mind would’ve pissed oc off thinking that he was just playing a joke on their feelings and that would earn him a slap on the face 😭 he thought of that. and oc said they wanted to decide for theirself too :( so he wanted to respect that but he ended up becoming too much of a coward to reach out first after that bcs what if oc already decided that the breakup was for the best too 🥲 what if they hate him now 🥲 but he should’ve thought about it more from oc’s pov bcs they were suffering thinking that he alr gave up frfr </3

hmmm joon did talk to them about jk having a hard time, but during the breakup they did ask if he cheated so we know that they have this anxiety :( oc is just our bravest soldier who knows what they want and always tries their best to get it (him) 🫡

6. omg yessss more soon i’ve been thinking about one with jimin too specifically !! oc definitely bonds with each of the tannies about different things 🥺

7. yea, the even when he gave u reasons to drabble was the first time they brought it up again :( after they got back together jk really made efforts to reassure oc and that’s partly because he did see how they became kind of timid when he expresses affection. (i.e., jk saying “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.” and oc not saying anything and walking away instead) (this shit still kills me today sorry)

8. this was oc’s bf before jungkook aka guy with the dirty nails aka the ex who cursed them out like crazy when oc broke up with him (called them a slut) AND ALMOST made oc delete jungkook’s first ever texts to them bcs they lowkey started believing him. (he makes me mad sorry)

9. heeee wanted to but oc has only tried flying out for the ptd la and vegas shows bc the circumstances before then were different :( they were balancing school and multiple jobs. and we know how hard oc studied. they were so committed 😭 but now they live together and oc has a stable job and everything’s just more flexible overall so going with him overseas when he has work there is easy and not a problem at all 🥺

oh ofccc they’ve been on fancy dates esp that oc loves feeling pretty <3 but someone take me on a fancy date first so i can write about it 🤧

this is the first time someone called the giving up drabble a comfort fic lmaoooo this made my day i love you 😭 i hope i answered your questions and thank you soooo much for reading my works 🥺💕

#art’s post office ☁️ #heytherejjk <3

[passmethatcokezero]

Every body needs a therapy. (18+ // Jeonghan!vampire + Joshua!fwb au)

Sure, your best friend needs it too.

pairing: jeonghan!vampire x fem!reader x joshua!fwb

words: 3854 words

tags: YOONHONG HERE AND THERE, superhuman au, superficial, y/n is a healer-slash-sex worker, unprotected sex (this is fiction for a reason! let’s always stay safe!!)), double penetration, anal, threesome, idk lets be wild this virgo szn ig

warning: tw // mentions of blood at the end

disclaimer: these type of vampire you may have not seen from anywhere. I added some characteristics/abilities to it that does not reflect the stereotype

《 1, 2 》

+ + +

Your unlabeled connection - mostly sexual - with Jeonghan is not a secret to Joshua anymore. And today was not at all surprising catching yet again the two of you making out by the kitchen when there was supposedly a day left before he gets home from abroad. It was a sight for him, although feeling a little bit betrayed that his best friend never really told him directly about the sticky encounters you two had, assuming you might have done it at every spot in the loft when he was gone.

Coming home was indeed the moment he has been looking forward to. Just a little bit more special now that it had to be the night he realizes he liked you as much as he liked his current distraction he met online he once introduced as Seokmin. He was kind, and almost fit his ideal but he cant deny the jealousy inside him right at this moment; hearing your whimpers and moans made him feel things he only felt with Seokmin during heated nights which he never let the guy know to stay away from commitment. It was just a summer fling anyway; he makes himself believe.

Soon he hears Jeonghan grunts as you whimper loudly in the tempo of his lewd sounds. “Not here, not here.” you mumbled in small, and Jeonghan was fast enough to carry you to his bedroom, not conscious of locking the door thinking they were all alone in the house. Joshua did not know what to do, especially with his bulging pants. He just went straight to his room without making a sound and pleasured himself to the explicit music next door, Until he fell asleep naked on his bed he missed, still tired and groggy from the plane ride.

“Shua!?” a bright voice woke him up to his slumber as the sunrise lits up his room. A familiar figure approached him excitedly as his sight took time adjusting to the light. “OMG I thought you’ll be back in a day or two?” The half-awake guy bounced on the mattress as the person he missed the most dived to his warmth, hugging him as usual. “I miss you!" Apparently, you saw his bags by the entrance doors and immediately went checking his room and indeed, he was sprawled on his king-sized bed, the grey comforter barely covering anything of his torso up.

"Hey…" his voice, still as sweet as maple in the morning, finally acknowledges your presence. Last night imagery of himself getting off to your moans was still on his mind, making him feel a little awkward. Although brushing it off is not a hard thing for him to do, meeting your eyes became one. “Have you eaten?” He asked, avoiding his dilemma. 

“I was about to cook breakfast when I saw your bags.” you chuckled. A month without your best friend due to business matters emptied your being, grateful that you have a little company to get by.

“Let me just wash up, I'll cook you your favorite.” he was about to sit on the bed but his weight won't let him. Seems like his rest wasn't enough to cure jetlag.

“You… need help with that?”

Your healing ability, and the way you execute it was also never a secret to him. Anyway he know you from head to toe, from the tips of your hair down to the dirt in your toenails so there was nothing you’re too shy to share. In fact he had some of your therapy sessions right at his home, which wasn't much of a big deal for the both of you being that comfortable with each other: it just felt like the usual friends-with-benefits. Although today, there must have been something in the air that he felt the urge, rather than the benefit itself.

With his gentle nod and your knowing smile, your now bare body free from any restrictions started straddling him on the bed after he positioned his back against the headboard, his comforter not enough to hide his woody morning against your heat, massaging his temples with the help of one of his essential oils in his drawer.

“This lag is a bitch, huh?” you whispered against his ears as the room is now filled with the scent of eucalyptus. “Let me take it away from you.”

Joshua, just like some of your customers, prefers a particular way of doing it. For him, rather than an intercourse, a head is sufficient to clear him away of his worries. But as you were about to go down on him, he grabs your wrists while locking his eyes on you, placing both hands by his neck.

“I think I need something else today.” His voice turns 180 degree from soft as he pulls the comforter to get off the restriction and carefully places you on top of him, folds sitting right at his girth. He hissed at the feeling of your heat, a thing he never thought would make him go crazy.

He always believed he liked the same sex as him. Only, his realizations started to kick in hard the past few weeks and harder since last night; that maybe you were an exception - or better, maybe he is into both, which he is still yet to discover himself, maybe after the therapy.

Joshua missed you, a lot more than he could imagine. It wasn’t the first time he had gone abroad for a long period of time, but it was new to him that your attention seemed to be divided, that you barely contacted him when he was away, busy with your new found friend. He was used to him being your customary life companion that takes care of you, and you him. 

“A-are you sure?” You were taken aback, but his dark irises assured you his intention. 

The lack of lubrication just yet caused a wild lip-locking, tongue-hurling to begin. Determined to make you wet, his hands went on to travel against inches of thighs and up to cup your breasts. His huge hands you never would have imagined cupping them perfectly, and his strong thumbs you thought were made to play with not just for tips, proven itself good for tits as well.

You moaned in his mouth as you felt your pussy producing some warm liquid against his veiny length, which allowed you to finally lessen the rough friction and increase pleasure against your hole.

“How is it? A-are you good?” you asked amid a hazy mind, thinking he might find the scenario a little awkward.

He was quiet, eyes shut and lips a few centimetres agape. He was feeling the slick sensation of your warm pussy painting his dick - which got a lot harder and thicker - with arousal.

“Hey... Josh…” you paused for a while and caressed his cheeks.

“D-Don’t stop… please,” he says, the last word came out in a single breath.

The makeout resumes and your pussy gets much wetter as the heat from your bodies increases. His girth was long and it takes an effort to roll your hip to paint him filthy from the base to just below his tip.

"Shit… keep going…" He mutters, as you started kissing him on the neck while his hands nested on your waist. It was obvious he was resisting his moans, bobbing his Adam's apple a few times followed by deep breaths.

"Josh…ahh…. How are you feeling….?" Your breath hitches but still managed to speak amid lust that you suddenly had for your friend.

It's a no-brainer that your friend is a hottie. He is super duper kind; gentle manners ooze out of him like it's nothing. His face is perfect, and his body has always been well-maintained. A perfect guy you can introduce to your parents, only if he actually likes you in the first place.

"I… I need you," He was careful to admit it out loud.

"Hmm?"

“I am as confused as you right now…” he was whispering between breaths as he massages your cheeks with his thumb. “I hope your therapy gives me an answer.”

And with a nod, your now already dripping hole is ready to take him in. Hot breaths mixed in your mouths as you sink into his length, yours even shaking as you took time to take him in. His size was longer than anyone you had your therapy with and your mind went crazy as he swim up into the hollowness of your warmth. He kissed your mouth as you settled on him, your arms locked around his neck as your chests heave against each other, erect nipples pressing on his huge tits. It was an experimental warmth that Joshua never knew he craved for. Your body felt so amusing to him, with his hands exploring inches of your thigh and back. He then entangles his fingers through your hair, keeping it in place and your kisses on pace with his as you slowly started rolling your hips after growing accustomed to his size.

The two of you were quiet for a while, both heads full of confusion as to what's happening or if there would be changes in your interaction after this. With him planning to just go with the flow, and you brushing it off, thinking this was for your therapy.

But it was not.

You weren’t consciously doing it for therapy. You were ignited by something else: your desire to know if your longtime friend had any tiny pint of attraction to you; if your prided charisma that worked on most people - heck even on a non-human - actually affected him having you around most of the time.

And there he was, melting from every sway of your hips, your warm dripping hole housing him tight, and your tongue that wrestled with his.

You soon felt him buck his hips up to meet yours, hitting a spot somewhere inside you that made you go see stars. A moan so loud and long escaped from your lips that probably reached Jeonghan’s sensitive hearing, which you didn’t mind. He got his fair share of sex last night, which didn’t really reach the climax due to his declining endurance and your sleepy eyes given it was already midnight, way past your sleeping time.

What you didn’t know, Jeonghan was already up, back right against the wall that separates his room and Joshua’s, enjoying the sweet mumbles and soft moans you were trying to muffle. Eyes tainting red of more desire, as red as his bruised lips he was trying to restrain from producing any sound. 

What was it with you that he cannot get enough of? Why is he so madly addicted to your smell? Why is he so hungry for your kisses? Why is he craving for your warmth every now and then, even if he feels weakened by your touches as the time passes?

Sure, Jeonghan gets enough of his blood supply from a dealer he knew that worked on the black market, just so he does not consume any of yours, as part of his compensation to your therapies. Although lately, he began feeling different and even accused the dealer of taking advantage of his riches, doubting the freshness of supplies delivered right at the doorstep, which was proved otherwise as he himself witnessed the sourcing process for his latest delivery. 

His strength has depleted in half although still much greater compared to an average man, much as his ultra-sensitive hearing and and smelling senses, and other else that came with being inhuman. All these he can only blame on his budding feelings for a human, which he denies instantly after thought.

Your moans sent him spiralling down to his lust once again, and the slappy sound of your skin hitting Joshua’s made him thought of how similar he looked to the man’s lone activity last night. Yes, he heard every single hisses, friction of his hand going up and down his dry shaft, and his soft whispers of his best friend’s name. All of it, Jeonghan was aware thus his heightened ego last night, which was halted soon when tiredness enveloped your whole being.

The guy next room continued pumping himself as the moans choired harmoniously to his ears. His speed became vigorous to match your heavy breaths as you rode the long dick inside of you, back now arching away from Joshua wanting to focus on the sensation inside. He was now sweating heaps as he delve in and drilled your hole from below, still getting hard to the sight of your contorted face and mouth hanging because of him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Joshua managed to say out of breath, as he grabs your bouncing breasts, followed by your hand keeping them in place as you go harder on him.

You whined at the compliment, almost in tears due to the nirvana you've been sent to. Sure, Joshua has always been generous of compliments, but this particular line has hit you so differently today, just as how his tip hits you right at your spot.

“Oh god,” you were so close, whining so loud as you feel the knot in your core. Joshua too was coming close, but Jeonghan wont let that happen so soon without him releasing just as you two do.

He stealthily positioned himself behind you, one hand attempting to go straight to your clit. At first you were not aware of his presence, until he spoke right into your ears as he rested your head on his shoulder, “this does not look like a therapy, does it?”

His finger tapped your already sensitive clit, making you surrender to his chest, “Mind if I join?”

Joshua was stunned by his unprecedented appearance, but his arousal was stronger. It was another image he had never witnessed with his eyes: a threesome right in front of him might be a good idea. “If you can make this any hotter, then we don't.” 

“My pleasure,” Jeonghan smirks and went ahead abusing your little clit, and giving you kisses on your neck. 

Your moans were now free to echo throughout the loft but you can't seem to hear any of it. The wild pleasure almost makes your whole body and senses numb, and only your sensitive parts are actively screwing your mind. The novelty of the scenario was enough to give you goosebumps all over, and when you thought it won’t get any freakier, Jeonghan nudged you forward lounging for Joshua’s neck which you instinctively took to your mouth.

“Can you take two gorgeous men fucking your hole, babe?” Jeonghan whispers as he positions you comfortably between him and your friend, as Joshua admires his ethereal beauty up close. Jeonghan stared back at his sensuous eyes filled with lust, and wiped the man’s lower lip with his thumb. “Really gorgeous men,” he corrected himself.

A whimper from your mouth, lapping against the base of Joshua’s neck was the signal for Jeonghan to push his index finger inside the former’s hanging lips and let him suck it as he positions himself to your other opening.

Was it a trick or just something incomprehensible, but the way he slid into you was smooth but painful due to the virginity of the hole. His dick felt like a cold, solid jelly terrorizing your ass making you gasp as his hand supported your contorted position by the neck.

“Shit,” he muffles as Joshua started dirty sucking his now two fingers as if it was some cock, moaning with a distorted face as your pussy tightens on him due to the overloaded sensation.

“Fuck, I feel like… ahh… I’m gonna die…” You heart was beating so fast along the tempo of your heavy breaths as Jeonghan pushed further, your ass reaching his hips with a hiss. All of you were chasing breaths as everyone has settled in. You were close in coming and crying in excitement - your two holes penetrated and stretched by two interesting girths was a moment you never thought you ever desired.

Jeonghan seemed to be in control over the situation. Given that aura, of course he would. “Ready to have fun?” He asks the both of you, though his eyes were stuck with Joshua’s alluring irises. The latter nods with a smirk as the former retracts his hand to rather balance himself on top. He then grabs your hair away from your sweaty face, and whispers something to your delight, “Kiss your dear friend for me? The wetter, the better.”

You nod a little and you do as he said. The kiss was more erotic than whatever you have given Jeonghan himself from your makeout sessions. From sucking air out of Joshua’s lungs, to sucking his tongue as he explored your cavern, vibrations on the mouth were shared as he fucks you from below and you thrusts above him, all the while Jeonghan pleasures your other hole.

The pain in your ass was more bearable now as pleasure took over and the feeling of alternating friction was too much for you to handle, especially since you’ve been dying to come earlier.

“Fuck,” you heaved from lack of oxygen. Your arms feeling a bit wobbly now from supporting your weight against your friend’s chest.

“Let go; we’ll take care of you.” Joshua assures you with his calming voice as if he read your mind.

“But... no coming yet, babe. Be courteous,” Jeonghan smirks at the sight of you so worn out and frustrated for your nearing release.

Although whining in protest, your body suddenly felt comfortable after you let go of your hand support, and just let yourself be laid over Joshua’s body. The two started slow again, building momentum as lips inched closer to each other. It was a stretch literally for Jeonghan, but Joshua’s lips are just so irresistible. It looked so plump after the sucking and dirty kisses from you. It looked like it needed some more attention.

The two kissed, not neglecting you of any attention. You cannot picture everything that was happening at once but all you know, it was sending you to paradise, or maybe the other as the intercourse felt so sinful. 

“How bad can you get, hun? Dirty moaning over two cocks stretching your holes as if you want one more. To fuck your filthy mouth, huh?” his aggressive whispers sent chills to your body as his apparent cold body is in total contrast of that from your friend underneath. His hand you did not notice already playin with your bud increased its intensity making your feet cold as white stars filled your shut eyes.

Joshua, eager to get those slutty words for himself as well (maybe not now buutsome other time), pulls Jeonghan’s closer to him, “Fucking shut up and kiss me.” 

Your now frail body, sandwiched between two men lapping each other's mouth with a passion as their thrusts gradually increase in speed non-simultaneously, squirms as the curl in your core once again made itself known.

Moans and hisses from you were twice louder, and so does Joshua when he felt your pussy clenching around him, loosing contact with Jeonghan’s mouth again as he surrendered to his bed. The feeling was surreal that made him froze and just let the clenching and your slight movements fuck him out. Jeonghan was quick to catch and started pounding on you as he fills Joshua’s neck with kisses.

Jeonghan didn’t understand how kissing the man gave him back a few of his ousted strength back. Thoughts came crashing his already dreaded mind. Is Joshua a healer too? Or did your therapies make him weak, “healing” him from the “incurable illness” bestowed upon him at birth, without a choice?

“I-I’m… close…” Joshua managed to say between gasps as your clenching continues. He doesn’t want you stop; rather he just wants to proclaim how you make him feel so regal being bestowed such pleasurable sensation.

“You’re cumming too, right hun?” Jeonghan in his soothing voice pets your cheek with a finger. “Can you let your friend cum inside?”

“A-and… you?”

“I’ll come a little later…” he kisses you for a while and smirks, “...we haven't finished what we started last night."

Jeonghan gave a few more pounds before pulling out, leading a choir of moans from the three of you as the room was filled with the sticky smell of sex. Both you and Joshua wanted to hold it a bit more and endure the pleasure for much longer, pounding into you from below as he held into your hips, but your bodies failed to coordinate with your climaxes and finally had to let your release go altogether.

Joshua stayed inside your warmth as his mouth finds it way to yours. Your hole was too sensitive and with him still inside as he writhes under your kiss had you crumbling above him. You were confused if you wanted it more or just pull you off of him and let it linger, but the person behind you had other ideas.

“Baby, you know this is my favorite part right?” he was nagging cutely but hot at the same time. “But I’ll be generous to your friend.” his reddish eyes are now staring back at the other guy who had been oggling at his otherworldly beauty.

Jeonghan whispers something to Joshua and with a nod, the latter carefully managed to take the top as he settles you on the bed without breaking the connection. Just as how Jeonghan usually does after release, Joshua painfully slowly rides your high. The poor guy seemed only wanting to take time from his release, but was held captive of the devil right behind him, lips against his ears. “The best feeling yet, isn’t it?” you heard Jeonghan’s mumble to Joshua who had his head over the clouds, loving the overstimulation within your walls.

“I never heard my baby moaning like that; you seemed to be good in bed. Makes me curious.” Jeonghan tilts the other’s head to meet his eyes, kissing him unprovoked when Joshua’s lips were too tempting. The kiss gets deeper and Joshua starts to erratically thrusts inside you as he grows bigger yet again.

The scene right in front of you was enough to make you wetter than earlier, watching Jeonghan play with Joshua’s balls as their kiss gets deeper and hotter, moaning into each other's mouths. 

You sighed; thinking it will be such a long, playful day.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan, albeit entranced by the charming guy’s sexual endurance, thinks he might be needing a personal moment with him. He can’t just look past how the feeble friend of yours grants his power back while you might have been the cause of depletion. He just feels so invulnerable; omnipotence manifesting in his glowing red eyes, growing long hair, and fangs visible enough to get the guy a cut inside his mouth in the middle of the kiss.

Joshua can only gasp as the pale man behind him shows off his extravagance in entirety.

Licking off a droplet of blood in his fangs, the unearthly smirks.

“Feels so great to be back.”

+ + +

ㅡ A/N: I’ve never really done any taglisting but since you requested, here you go @knucklesdeepmingi ! hope you enjoy ^^

Okay back to svt in bed series 😃

ㅡ Any kinds of feedback/thoughts are welcome!

x

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen fic #svt fic #kpop smut #svt au #seventeen au #svt drabbles #seventeen drabbles #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #svt jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan au #svt jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #joshua #Hong Joshua #joshua smut #joshua hong #joshua hong smut #joshua imagines #yoonhong #svt joshua #svt joshua smut

[finalfrontierpublishing]

2023 in (bookbinding) travel

so i've been procrastinating big time since i got back from the US because i was jetlagged for something like 2 and a half weeks and was going to bed at 9pm, and then promptly caught COVID so i've been a bit MIA from bookbinding for a while. am shaking off the last dregs of it as we speak; am thankfully feeling much better.

i had the privilege of being able to attend comic con in san diego this year, and took great advantage of the fact that the usual transit spot is LA - i promptly hit up the California chapter of Renegade Bindery sometime last year and was like please please can i visit and thankfully they said yes!!!

this was one of two meetups for the US - i had the great privilege of meeting some other cali and non-cali members who were attending comic con - no photos but i did do a surprise book trade with @rhipidurafan of @fantailpress, which brought about the apocalypse great hilarity of the catfish calamity book trade.

guys... there are 11 million works on AO3, of which 70K of them are in MDZS. it should be statistically fucking impossible that we would both decide 'oh hey, this seems like a cool fic to bind as a surprise'. AND YET. AND YET! the gloriousness of the accidental acquisition of the same fic bookbind. WE BOUND THE SAME FUCKING FIC.

i think we laughed ourselves silly for something like 20 minutes straight. the lesson in a two way trade is to make sure there is a third person who knows exactly what the fuck is being bound to prevent things like this from happening in the future.

ALSO RHI'S COPY IS FUCKING GORGEOUS and i have spent many moments stroking it. ITS ROUNDED AND BACKED AND THE ENDBANDS! très magnifique, i can't even.

on coming back from san diego, i had the opportunity to hit up the LA chapter and GODDAMN, i had such a good time screaming about their lovely books and their lovely selves. i was also so kindly gifted pins, engraved and 3D printed tools, crepaldi paper and handmade stickers - THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU GUYS - YOU ARE SO AMAZING. some of the members came specially to meet me from hours away and i am so fucking touched, y'all.

the next day i also had the pleasure of being brought around the area where i was staying to have brunch and do a little bookbinder shopping and it was great.

i had such a lovely time meeting each and every one of them, my god. i didn't have the best time at comic con, which was very tiring and transport around LA was challenging as fuck without a car, but getting to meet renegade members was really, really fucking worth it and the best part of my trip, hands down.

again - this probably would never have been possible if i hadn't gone on my first Renegade meet up in March where i met the esteemed @celestial-sphere-press in Japan who brought me to eat excellent ochazuke and to explore the queer nightlife and didn't turn out to be a catfish (EHEHE) so really, i owe it all to des for helping me instill some confidence in my family that i wouldn't be kidnapped and murdered while meeting strangers on the internet.

anyway future travel plans potentially may include ??? GREECE WITH RENEGADE??? i am EXCITED and AM THRILLED AND CANNOT WAIT.

#renegade bindery #final frontier publishing #renegade meet ups #travel #bookbinding #fanbinding #my books

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - chapter 15

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.   

Rating: Mature Word Count: 11.7k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Explicit food descriptions, discussion of diet culture, dirty jokes, references to sex, discussion of chronic illness. Summary: Dieter returns home to LA to a big family dinner, and date 6 of the contract is bigger than you could possibly imagine. Notes: This is it, guys...the last full chapter of YSV. Next week will be the epilogue and you can rest assured that we will be ALL kinds of emotional saying goodbye to these two morons in love. It’s been a long journey to get here, but we love to see people adoring the shit out of their partners. Thank you for coming me with on my first real enemies-to-lovers journey. I hope you’ve enjoyed the chaos!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

Coming back to L.A. is both a blessing and a curse. Dieter had gone back to visit his family one last time before he was due back, explaining that the latest gossip was pure fabrication, an unfortunate by-product of being famous. Sometimes people tried to claim things that weren’t true, either for financial gain or their fifteen minutes of fame. They hadn’t held it against him and had sent him home with even more pictures that had been unearthed and copied. Walking out of the security point, he looks around for you, ignoring the flashing cameras as he tries to spot the only person that matters right now.

"Dee!" You have to call his name over the crowd noise, both because LAX is always noisy and because there's a group of fans and photographers waiting for him. There's a whole homecoming waiting for him back at his place, and you know he's jetlagged as hell from the flight so you push to the front of the chaos as best you can while you try to get his attention.

His eyes light up when he spots you, shouldering his backpack up higher and re-gripping the handle of his roll on so he can scoot by the crowd and reach you. Desperate for a kiss after a week apart. A week that’s felt like a month. “Baby.”

"Hey handsome." You can't help but reach out, almost afraid that he won't be real when you reach to put your arms around him. But he's solid under your hands and ducking his head to kiss you almost instantly. It's like getting an invitation back to bliss after a week of melancholy and heartache, and you welcome it with everything you have.

He needs this. Despite the clicking cameras, he needs the feeling of your lips on his. He knows that the interview has turned the tide in his favor, but they still want the evidence that the two of you are real. Especially since that rocky start you mentioned in the exclusive. “God, I missed you.” He huffs against your lips before he pulls back with a grin.

"I missed you, too." He looks good despite being tired, but that might just be the love talking. You reach past him to grab the handle of his suitcase and take his hand with your free one. "Let's go home, love."

“God, yes.” Dieter rolls his eyes and nods to the paps that are steadily clicking away and shouting questions, but he doesn’t answer them. “My ass went numb about halfway through the flight.”

"Think you can make it home without losing feeling again?" Home is what you've been calling his house for the last six days, since he asked you to move in with him and you said yes. Even though you aren't moved in yet – deciding not to do that without him – it's still where you'll be laying your head every night from now on, so home it is.

“Only if you give it a few good smacks in the car.” He winks at you and chuckles as the two of you head over to baggage claim. “Did Rico drive you or did you drive yourself?”

"I drove." You know your car isn't as nice as his, but you wanted to have the first little part of this time alone with him. Just to be able to breath each other in. Plus, there's the other thing. "I feel a little weird asking Rico to do stuff in a professional capacity...since I'm both not his boss and his girlfriend's sister-in-law."

“So it’s official, huh?” He grins and waggles his brows at you at the conveyor that will deposit his bag.

"They haven't told Nora yet, but yeah." Leaning over to steal another kiss, you grin against his lips and only force yourself to pull away when the conveyor belt whirs to life. "They're really happy. It's made me miss you twice as much, to be honest."

“Are they afraid Squirt will be upset?” He frowns slightly, hoping that Nora wouldn’t begrudge her mom another chance at happiness.

"More like the opposite, actually." When his suitcase comes into view, you keep an eye on it until it gets close enough to grab. There's no way you're going to be more than three feet away from him for at least the rest of the day. "She really loves Rico, so they just want to make sure they're serious about each other before they tell her they're more than friends."

“I can understand.” He gets it. If it’s just a summer fling type thing, there’s no point in getting the kid’s heart involved. “Hang on, let me grab my bag.” Dieter leans forward and grabs his bag with a groan. “Shit, this thing is heavier than when I left, I swear.”

"I got it." There's a short staring contest while you dare him to try taking the suitcase back from you, but he relents with a grin and you wheel it behind you toward the parking areas. "Jesus Dee, did Arya send you home with half the bakery?"

“They sent home more pictures.” Dieter shrugs. “The baked goods are in the carryon.” Feeling both exhausted and exhilarated, he walks along with you, fingers threaded through yours.

"They love you." It was obvious right from those first moments in the bakery and from the conversations you've had with Arya, it hasn't wavered. But then – you completely understand adoring this man. In fact, you're pretty biased on that point, and it makes you smile even wider. "I love you."

“I love you too.” Dieter takes advantage of the fact that no one in the parking garage is paying attention to you to pull you to a stop and tug you closer. “And I can’t wait to nap with you.” He moans softly. “I hated sleeping in that bed this last week.”

"Sleeping alone sucks." You can agree to that entirely, nuzzling against his chest like a cat begging to be pet. "I put fresh sheets on your bed this morning...I haven't moved anything in or anything like that, but I wanted you to have a comfy bed to come home to."

His pout is instantaneous. “You’re staying though, right?” He huffs. “Or I’m hauling my tired ass to your house to sleep in the little fucking bed you have.” You had a full-sized bed in the house you live in now, but it was tiny compared to his king.

"Of course I'm staying. Your fancy ass bed is way more comfortable than mine." Tipping your chin back lets you kiss the pout clean off his lips and you grin. "Everybody's waiting for us, ?and dinner should be ready by the time we get back."

“Thank God.” He huffs, feeling better. “We just established sleeping alone sucks and I have plans to be a leech all night.”

"A naked leech, though, right?" You nudge him toward the car, only a few more yards away across an astonishingly empty portion of the parking garage. "As much fun as it's been having you control that vibrator from almost six thousand miles away, I'm aching to have my insides rearranged."

“Fuck yes.” Dieter groans, cock twitching at the thought. “I’ve discovered something about myself.” He tells you, looking over at you when you both stop at the trunk of your car. “I fucking hate jerking off.”

That makes you snort, and you quickly lean forward to nip his bottom lip before loading his suitcase into your trunk. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Once everything is loaded, you shut your trunk and offer him a small, almost coy smile. "I...I got in to see my doctor this week."

Travel and fatigue cause him to take a moment beside he figures it out. “Really?” He hums, glancing down at your stomach. “And what did you decide to go with?” The idea of sex without a condom is sexy, especially since you’ve already risked it twice.

"Just the standard ol' pill. I take it with my vitamin every morning and that's that. No big deal." It's easy, it's well tested, and you hadn't been crazy about the idea of an IUD anymore after reading some stories of people experiencing very real pain and complications with them. "So say goodbye to condoms."

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” He tells you seriously. He’s always serious about protection. It’s how he’s never actually had a pregnancy scare. He doesn’t count the crazy bitch who lied – since he had never slept with her. “It’s not one hundred percent, so if you want me to wear them when you’re – you know, fertile, I will.”

"So I don't end up carrying the inevitable twins that your family apparently breeds en masse?" You shake your head at him, climbing into your car and waiting for him to do the same before you pick up his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "If it will make you more comfortable, we can still use them while I'm ovulating. I'll download a tracker app to my phone so we can be extra careful. But I don't want to use one tonight. I just want to feel you."

“Wait.” He doesn’t want you to think that he’s uncomfortable. “I didn’t��� I don’t –” he shakes his head. “I’d rather not wear one again, but I meant that if you wanted me to wear one I will.” He gives you a small shrug. “It’s your body that would change. So you deserve the consideration.”

"If the kids are determined enough to get past the birth control, I almost feel like they deserve to be born." Key in the ignition, you turn over the engine and crank up the air conditioning so the two of you can be comfortable on the drive home. "I don't mean to bombard you with this conversation right off the plane, love. We can talk about it later." You'll have to talk about it at some point, but you've both studiously avoided any kind of long-term topics beyond living together over the last few days. Not another word about marriage has been spoken since the phone call after your ET interview.

“We can, but can we talk about you moving in?” He asks. “I’m surprised you haven’t already done it.”

"I didn't want to mess with your stuff while you were away," you admit. Backing your car out of its spot, it's off through the maze of the parking garage and out to the highway with you. "My stuff is pretty much packed, but I didn't want to just take over your house with it. I figured I'd do some this weekend and finish next weekend." Since it's the beginning of the school year you don't have any heavy grading yet and your weekends are still entirely your own. Perfect timing for a move.

“Did you ask if Steph and Nora want to move in too?” He asks, knowing that you will miss having Nora underfoot. “Or do they want to stay in their house?”

“Steph wants to keep the house.” It had been the subject of a few very long conversations between the two of you this week, but ultimately your best friend always came back to the same answer. “Leaving it would feel a little too much like leaving Shawn behind and I don’t think she’ll ever be ready for that. Plus,” you flash him a smile. “Some really nice guy paid off the mortgage a couple of months back, so it’s truly hers now. I figure, I can still help out by being Nora’s babysitter whenever she needs. Just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean I’m abandoning them.”

“I figured that would be the case.” He easily glosses over the mention of him paying off the mortgage. He doesn’t even think about it. Hell, he’d forgotten about it. “Besides, if Rico and Steph get serious, they won’t want to share a room in our house. They’ll want their own space.”

The phrase makes you hum softly, a happy buzzing warming through you as you drive. “Our house. I love that.”

“You like that?” He tosses you a grin. “You just want the pool.” He can’t help but lighten the mood and tease.

“That’s a serious fringe benefit.” You laugh, slipping your free hand into his. Driving is relaxing for you, and you had missed it in Switzerland. Not having an international license had meant that he drove everywhere. “But I’ve also got a super hot roommate now.”

“Who?” Dieter narrows his eyes playfully. “I knew you had a thing for Rico.”

“Oh shut up.” Laughing again, you roll your eyes and squeeze his hand in yours. “He’s a very nice guy, but Rico isn’t the guy I went on national television to defend.”

“True.” He can’t help but grin at that reminder. “You did do that, didn’t you?” He had been very smug about his soulmate for the next few days as all the lies had come out. This woman had apparently thought to scam him and believed he wouldn’t know it since the Dieter Bravo of old wouldn’t have remembered sleeping with her or not.

“Has Libby mentioned to you that she wants me to start modeling now?” It was a completely insane concept to you, and you had actually laughed the first time Libby called you with an offer. “I guess some companies have decided they like me for being a spokesperson or something? I don’t know, it all seems extremely weird to me, but Lib’s been getting calls asking if she represents me.”

“How do you feel about that?” He asks, surprised but also not. And of course Libby would like a client in Dieter’s soulmate. “If it’s something you’re interested in, you should do it.”

“Honestly?” You shrug slightly. “I have no idea. But it’s a hell of a lot more money than I make teaching. I just really like food, so I don’t know if I want to have a bunch of people arbitrarily judging my looks.” But that, again, makes you shrug. “Maybe I’ll just do one or two — what are they called? Campaigns? And use it to fund my traveling art teacher adventures.”

“I don’t want you to starve yourself.” Dieter is adamant about that. “But you are gorgeous and if they are clamoring for you, make it known what you will or will not do. Make them cater to you.”

“Trust me, I’m not starving myself.” It’s far too much of an impossibility and it actually makes you chuckle dryly. “You’ve seen me eat, babe. I will pick pizza over a tight dress any day. But maybe that’s a good stance to keep if I’m going to consider it, ya know? I just won’t take contracts where they want me to lose weight.” And maybe you would never get work for exactly that reason, but if that’s the case then you wouldn’t want to represent those companies anyway.

“Absolutely.” He whole-heartedly agrees. “Plus, it’s not like you have to worry about doing it or not. It’s just something fun to consider. You get a shit ton of clothes. I modeled for Gucci at one point.”

“Is that why you have so much Gucci? I just thought you had a favourite.” The road drives by quickly and conversation devolves into silly things, until you get closer to the house and Dieter has talked about nothing but the last meal he shared with his family so you know he has to be starving. “Rico cooked,” you promise him, knowing he has a soft spot for the other man’s food. “He even made dessert. Nora and Steph have been hanging out in the pool all day while we waited for you to land. It’s been a perfect Saturday.” Perfect, largely, because you knew by the end of it that you wouldn’t have to miss him anymore.

“That sounds great.” There is a small, relieved sigh when you pull through the driveway. “I want to lay by the pool too. After a nap.”

“If you want to take a nap before dinner, go for it.” There’s no reason that Rico’s Italian feast can’t keep a little bit longer, and you know no one will blame him for being jetlagged.

“No, we’ll eat.” He doesn’t want anyone to wait on him. “I’m just going to need a nap after. I’ll just hold you and snore while you talk with everyone.”

“Romantic.” You tease, pulling your car up in front of the house. “Welcome home, baby.”

“I’m happy to be here.” He admits, even though he is tired. He’s been up for a long time, but he is looking forward to seeing everyone. An odd sensation since it was normally Rico picking him up and Dieter would either immediately crash or party.

“What are you gonna do with all this domesticity?” Hopping out of the car, you grab his luggage from the trunk to bring into the house and pause for just a second to steal a kiss. “Nora can’t wait to see you.”

“I don’t know.” He wrinkles his nose and grins. “Of course she can’t wait to see me. I’m her favorite uncle.”

It’s the same nose wrinkle and smile that you give him – the one that made him stop on the street to kiss you – and you swear he’s picked it up from you. So of course, you double back from the front door to kiss him again. “Yeah.” You have to admit that. “You absolutely are. Kid’s got good taste.”

“Of course she does.” Opening the door to his house is familiar, but the music is definitely kid friendly and the laughing and shrieking through the space coming from the back is something new. It’s welcomed though, making him perk up and smile in anticipation. “Gotta get her gifts out.”

“You go ahead and dig.” It’s sweet to see him so excited, to know that he’s as glad to be around your family as they are to be around him. “She’s been an absolute fish the whole month, it seems. You may be the only thing that can get her out of the pool.”

“Good.” Dieter flips the carryon on its side and unzips it, pulling things out so he can get to her presents. “The pool should be used. She’s always welcome over to use it. Both of them are.” He looks up at you. “Anyone you want here, it’s your home too.”

“Everybody I care about it either in front of me or already in the pool, so I think we’re okay.” You can’t help but grin as he pulls all manner of treats and toys and clothes out of his bag - all the things he picked out for your niece over the last month knowing she would be clamoring excitedly to see him when he got home. It makes your heart swell in an incredibly unsubtle way, and you push the thought of kids away in favour of grabbing two cans of soda out of his fridge. “You got everything?”

“I think.” He bites his lip and hands you a small box. “I got this for you. After you left.” He adds, looking a little flustered.

“What’s this?” There’s no mistaking a jewelry box, but it’s distinctly not the right size for a ring and that’s relieving. Conversation first, ring later. If he even wants that. Pushing the thought aside, you open the little velvet box to find a delicate gold chain bearing three pristine, slightly ivory-colored pearls as the centerpiece. “Dee.” It’s stunning, and your eyes shoot up to his in wonder. “Baby, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He grins, because you love it and his expression turns into a smirk. “I love you wearing a pearl necklace, so I couldn’t resist.” He snickers, acting like a twelve-year-old boy rather than a man gifting his soulmate with the first piece of jewelry in your relationship.

“Theeeere it is.” Despite rolling your eyes exaggeratedly, you do have to laugh. The genuine mix of thoughtful romantic gesture and absolutely juvenile joke is pure Dieter. “I’ll wear it with pride,” you half-snort, closing the box again carefully. “And tell everyone my soulmate gave me the best pearl necklace.”

“Damn right.” He laughs, ecstatic that you are joking along with him. A far cry from where the conversation would have gone if he had given it to you in the beginning. “Do you really like it?” He asks, softer and more serious this time. “I just— I saw it on you in the display case.”

“I love it, baby. It’s gorgeous.” And it earns him a sweet, indulgent kiss that nearly turns dirty. “I’ll wear it on date six, whenever that is, and lots of times afterward when we’re just out having fun, not fulfilling a contract.” Although, you may have that damn bundle of papers framed. It brought you together, after all.

“You – I hate that contract.” Dieter admits quietly. “I want to rip the damn thing up.”

“I don’t mind it like I used to.” Okay. Maybe don’t frame it. “It’s what brought us together. It’s why I went to Switzerland. It’s—” you shrug, feeling a little sheepish about defending it. “Yeah, it sucked in the beginning, but without it, we might never have spent time together. And I hate that thought so much more.”

“I hated it because I—” His fingers thread with yours. “I was afraid that when the contract was over, so were we.” He knows it’s crazy to think that now, but he can’t help the irrational fear.

“Never.” His hand is tangled in yours and you raise it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I mean absolutely, one hundred percent, never. You’re gonna have to break up with me your damn self if you ever want me out of here.” You tell yourself it’s an irrational fear, but a part of you might be scared of the possibility for a long time to come. Only because he means so damn much to you.

“You don’t remember my near total meltdown a week ago?” He asks, reaching up with his free hand to cup your cheek. “I’ve never, ever, cried over losing a lover like I did when I thought you would hate me again.” He bites his lip and decides to be completely honest. “I couldn’t look at your messages because I didn’t know what I would do.”

“It looks like we’re stuck with each other, then.” The soft smile on your lips warms your cheeks and you turn your head slightly to kiss his palm. “When you’re ready we’ll have that conversation, but there’s no rush, love.”

He knows what conversation you are talking about be he decides to play dumb. Giving you a confused look and tilting his head at you, only a slight smirk to his lips. “What conversation?”

“The one that eventually leads to another fancy jewelry box.” If you’re honest with yourself, marriage wasn’t something you saw for yourself — ever, really — unless it was to him. The adolescent daydreams have returned in a newer form. You’re not sixteen years old looking at edgy black wedding dresses and picking out your favourite-that-week Something Corporate song for your first dance: played live by the band, of course. Now you dream about the actual marriage – the quiet dinners and the proud smile on your lips as cameras flash in his direction. Painting together and raising that set of twins that you just know is going to happen if you ever do decide to have kids. He could propose with the plastic ring from a Cracker Jack box and you would still say yes. And that is a very big thought to have after only three weeks. Or it would be, if you weren’t soulmates. You’ll never pressure him, but you know where your heart lies.

“Oh, that conversation.” He bobbles his head and tosses you a grin. “Good to know you want it.” He teases with a wink.

“I already told you that.” But you press another kiss to his hand and shake your head, motioning finally to the small warehouse’s worth of loot he has for Nora. “Come on, love. We should go say hello.”

Gathering up all the presents, Dieter follows behind you, following his nose to the delicious smell in the kitchen and through the doors to the backyard. “Hey, Squirt!” He calls out, seeing Nora splash in the pool with her goggles on.

The squeal Nora lets out is unholy, yelping his name and flailing her arms excitedly until an equally shocked Steph can help lift her out of the pool. She hadn’t heard the car at all - probably owing to the Disney music currently being piped through Dieter’s outdoor sound system. “UNCLE DEEDEE!” Nora yelps his name excitedly. With a little floaty on each of her arms they simply stick out from her sides, flapping like wings as she completely ignores the No Running rule to race to his side.

He doesn’t care that she’s soaking wet, doesn’t give one damn. She looks happy, healthy and over the moon to see him. The presents in his arms end up on the ground as he kneels down and lets her fly into him at full tilt, nearly knocking him over. “Oof!” He exaggerates. “How did you get so big? I just saw you!”

“That was three whole weeks ago!” She huffs, because three weeks to a four-year-old is an eternity. “I’m a big girl now, Uncle Deedee. Kin-dee-garters started!”

“Kindergarten started!” Dieter whistles and shakes his head. “You’re getting to be a big girl.” He huffs. “But I guess that means you don’t want presents. Big girls don’t like presents, right?”

Nora’s eyes widen with both intrigue and a slight panic, and she shakes her wet curls furiously. “Big girls love presents,” she insists, but it seems that the present she wants first is more hugs. Throwing herself into his arms again, the little girl snuggles herself against his chest and giggles. “Missed you, Uncle Deedee,” she murmurs, arms squeezing his neck almost too hard in her enthusiasm.

“Missed you too.” He promises. “It wasn’t the same without you there. Although I know you were excited to come back to the pool.” God, he loves the way she so innocently loves him. She trusts him, even though she doesn’t know any of the bad things that he’s done in his life. His own arms hold her more securely that he had that first night in her hospital bed as he hugs her back. “I’m going to try to not go away for a while, okay?”

“Okay! That’s good.” Her head bobbles as she nods, smiling brightly. Everything is good in Nora’s world today. Everything is better than good. “Auntie Gigi missed you, too. So that’s good.”

“I missed Aunt Gigi too.” Dieter admits quietly, like it’s a secret. “Let me help you take off your wings and you can see what I brought you.” He offers with a wink.

Steph has lifted herself out of the pool at this point and snagged her drink from the little table next to where Rico is sitting - quickly grabbing a kiss that she thought no one would notice before turning to greet Dieter. “We’re glad you’re home safe,” she tells him honestly, wrapping him up in a hug when he’s finished taking off her little girl’s water wings.

“I’m glad to be home. The past week was lonely.” He lifts a brow at her and grins. “But someone isn’t, I see.” He’s happy for the obvious happiness that he sees in Steph’s eyes and there’s no missing the way Rico is proud, his impressive chest puffing up even more.

“Later.” Steph mumbles in his ear, not wanting Nora to start asking questions. She had never even considered dating again until meeting the man she now giddily referrs to as her boyfriend, and things have been going extremely well between them. Extremely well and surprisingly fast.

“Gotcha.” He sends her a small wink and looks back down at Nora. She’s nearly vibrating as she examines the wrapped bundles he had deposited on the concrete to hug her. But she’s resisting touching them. “What are you waiting for, Squirt?” He asks. “Go crazy.”

Permission is what she was waiting for, and the instant she has it from both him and her mom, she goes nuts. Packages of three different candies will keep her in a carefully regulated sugar high for a couple of weeks, the new clothes are brightly coloured and patterned and slightly too big - which Steph thanks him for because it means she can wear them longer. The stack of puzzle and coloring books weighs almost as much as Nora does, and the bilingual French/English picture book came with a recommendation from his cousin after he had mentioned that Nora thought the language was pretty. The showstopper, though, is the beautifully crafted doll in her exquisitely old-fashioned dress with eyes the color of the ocean and a happy smile painted on her little face. “She’s so pretty!” Nora squeaks, hugging the doll tight in her arms. The soft brunette ringlets aren’t quite like her own, but they bounce beautifully when she pulls on them and then cradles the doll back in her arms. “She needs a pretty name.”

“Well, Nora is taken.” He teases, happy that he’s been able to make the little girl happy. He had flashes of paternal pride and wondered what it would be like with kids of his own. “What kind of name are you thinking?”

“She’s gonna have the best adventures with Jessie and Woody and all my Barbies!” Nora’s little face screws up tight for a second before realization dawns on her. “I don’t know that many names…” she murmurs, looking between the four adults until her eyes settle back on Dieter. “Do you have a favourite name?”

Dieter bites his lip and gives a small nod. Kneeling down, he reaches out and touches a flounce on the dress. “I do. I used to have a sister.” He tells Nora. “Her name was Danica and I thought it was pretty. Dieter and Danica. DD, like you call me Uncle DeeDee.”

“Can…” Nora looks at him pensively, biting her lip before asking: “Can I call her Danica? It’s really pretty.”

His lower lip trembles slightly as he smiles at her – albeit a little watery. “I think it’s the perfect name for such a pretty doll.” He manages.

You and Steph are on the verge of tears watching this exchange, and you reach down to squeeze Dieter’s shoulder gently with one hand as you smile at your niece. “Why don’t you go wash up for dinner and we can have Danica sit at the dinner table with us,” you suggest, wanting to give Dee a minute to process. “I’m sure dinner is almost ready.”

“It is.” Rico nods, holding up his watch. “Two more minutes. Just enough time to set the table.”

Nora rushes off and Dieter’s chest heaves. “God.” He breathes out and looks up at you. “She’s named her doll after my sister.” Awe-struck by that fact, he looks over at Steph. “She’s just— amazing.”

Steph has one hand over her heart and she shakes her head softly. “I don’t know how, but she’s…it’s almost perceptive. I swear she sees right into your heart sometimes.”

“She’s so innocent and good.” If there is ever one thing that he will be most proud of, it’s making sure that this little girl has a bright future. Beyond capturing your heart, of course. He stands up and shakes his head with a grin. “She going to change the world one day. Or run it.”

“My money is on running it.” You wrap Dieter up in your arms and hug him tight. “You did good, Uncle Deedee.”

“Just wanted to spoil her.” He huffs, leaning in for a kiss. “Although I know I can’t spoil her too badly.”

“Bringing home presents after a trip is an appropriate time for spoiling.” You assure him, giving him as many kisses as he wants.

“Good. I thought so.” He smirks and gives you a wink. “Besides I did bring you a gift too.”

“Yes, you did.” And you snort when you laugh about it, leaving a kiss on the tip of his nose. “A cheeky gift, at that.”

Rico has seen every possible version of his boss over the few years they’ve been together – or at least he thought he had. But he’s never seen Dieter this happy. It warms his heart and makes him even more glad that his own happiness has been found with this amazing little family. “Lasagna’s done,” he announces, checking his watch once more before hauling himself off the pool chair he had been lounging on. “I’m going to throw the garlic bread in the oven to toast.”

“And we’ll set the table.” Steph nods, starting to herd all of you inside.

“Well, yes ma’am.” Dieter doesn’t miss how Steph knows where everything is. Something Dieter struggles with when he’s here. A sign that she really has been spending a lot of time over here with Rico. “Soooooo, this is like a routine now, huh?” He asks with a grin. “Lemme guess, when you’d come to get Squirt, the most mouthwatering smells of dinner would just happen to be minutes from being finished.” He chuckles. “So of course, you had to stay for dinner?”

“That’s…how it started.” Steph mumbles, looking down at the plates in her hand like they had given away her secret.

“Rico used that a lot to get me to eat.” He huffs good-naturedly. “Make something irresistible.”

“And it works every time.” The younger man grins at his boss unapologetically as he brings an enormous tray of lasagna to the table. “It’s all totally safe for her,” he promises, seeing the look of doubt on your face. Lasagna is a tricky food by its nature - ground beef, multiple cheeses, and spinach all being traditional ingredients that will send Nora straight to the hospital. “I use ground turkey and pork sausage for the meat, the mozzarella and parmesan are both lactose free, and instead of ricotta and spinach the ‘cheese’ layer is crumbled tofu with zucchini and mushrooms. All seasoned to hell and back, of course. The tofu tastes exactly like ricotta. You’ll see.”

“It sounds like it shouldn’t work, but knowing you, it’ll be better than the original.” Dieter has known him long enough, eaten enough of his food to know that the man could make anything taste like a masterpiece. “I swear he would kill those cooking shows.”

“My Ma always thought it would be funny to send me onto one of those Worst Cooks shows as a ringer.” Rico laughs. “But I told her it would never work. I would cringe too hard any time I tried to make something bad.”

Dieter laughs and shakes his head. “It’s true, the first time he saw me making ramen noodles, he took over my kitchen.”

“And now you eat gourmet-level miso ramen absolutely any time you want.” Steph looks at Rico with a kind of pride that reads love loud and clear. “Nora loves it, too,” she explains when she catches you smirking at her.

“That shiiiiii— uh, stuff is amazing.” Dieter catches himself as Nora bounds back into the room and he rolls his eyes at himself. “Gotta get used to that.”

“Mommy I washed Danica’s hands sooooo carefully.” She presents her doll to Steph to be checked out, and there isn’t a single drop of water on her dress. “Can she sit at the table pleeeeeease?”

Steph looks around at the adult to make sure that no one objects before she nods at Nora. “Yes she can, but you will have to remind her to mind her manners, okay?” She tells her daughter with a smile.

“She’ll be good, I promise!” It’s clear that Nora has a regular seat at the table, because she goes over and climbs up into one of the chairs without hesitation as the adults all start to join her. Doll Danica easily shares the seat with Nora’s small frame, and you give Dieter’s hand a squeeze under the table before Rico starts dishing out slices of lasagna with perfectly toasted garlic bread on the side.

“It looks and smells amazing.” Dieter groans happily. “The food on the plane was okay, but it’s got nothing on Rico.” More than the food, the atmosphere reminds him of the dinners that he had with his family, and it makes him smile.

It’s an amazing meal, and the homemade coconut milk vanilla ice cream and caramelized bananas that Rico made for dessert is the tip of the iceberg that makes you groan happily when you sit back in your chair with an empty bowl in front of you. “I swear,” you point your spoon at Rico and grin. “When you finally decide you want to open a restaurant, we are going to be there all the time.”

“I’ve told him that he would have more business than he could want.” Dieter agrees, grinning at the way even Nora looks a little overstuffed. Now that his stomach is full, his eyes are starting to feel heavy and he looks over at you. Wondering if you want to lay down with him or stay here and talk with your friend.

Your hand skims gently over Dieter’s arm while Nora yawns her way through the end of a story about something that happened in her class yesterday, and you smile at how excited she has been to start school. It’s a fantastic thing to see and Steph has been so proud of her as she adjusts to more big girl things. “Getting tired, sweetie?” Steph smiles indulgently, always glad when Nora can have a meal that sits well enough with her that she can eat all she wants.

“I think the jet lag is kicking in.” Looking over at Dieter, you could practically sigh out in contentment. He’s home. In your home. Your home together. So much has happened and somehow – for once – all of it is good.

“I just— just an hour.” Dieter tells you with a small pout. “I’m sorry. I can just go pass out on the couch while you talk?”

“It will be close to bedtime by the time we get home.” Steph tells him, not wanting him to feel like he’s kicking them out. “We’ll see you tomorrow though, right? To help with moving?”

Dieter lifts a brow, assuming you would have hired a company to move the things you want to bring but he nods. “Yeah. You’ll see me tomorrow.”

“Nora’s gonna use her big muscles to help out, right?” You shoot a grin at your niece across the table before leaning over to kiss Dieter’s cheek. “You guys get some sleep and we’ll be over before the movers get to the house. It won’t take long to get me loaded up.” Steph had insisted on being able to help somehow, but the fact is that the movers will do most of the work. You and Steph and Dieter will just be packing up the last few things while they load the truck.

Dieter stands and helps with the dishes, shuffling slowly as he yawns while Rico picks up Nora and the little girl immediately snuggles against his chest and her eyes start closing.

One of the other members of Dieter’s security staff has been taking care of the night shift while Rico’s duties have been different for the last month, and that man – Jordan – is arriving to his shift when Rico, Steph, and Nora are loading into their cars out front.

Following you like a tired puppy; he gives a small smirk at the way that Rico carefully bundles into the car and then discreetly kisses Steph.

You and Steph wave to each other before she pulls away and Rico is quickly off as well, leaving you and Dieter alone as Jordan settles into his first walk of the property’s perimeter. “Nap time, babe?” He has to be incredibly jetlagged, and you honestly won’t be surprised if he just sleeps through the whole night.

“God yes.” He groans, leaning heavily against you. Swearing that he could see the back of his brain fright now, he nods against your shoulder. “Need to give my pillow some head and the sheets some ass.”

“Come on.” Giggling, you turn him around and haul him upstairs to the bedroom you’ve only shared once before.

His room is the same as he remembers but it feels different. He’s changed since he was last here. “Oh god.” He groans, pulling away from you to start stripping bare.

You don’t hesitate, locking the bedroom door for privacy and pulling off your clothes, setting them carefully on top of a long dresser against one wall. “Glad to climb into your own bed?” It’s a comfort that really can’t be replaced, and you know he must have been craving home after so long away.

“Don’t care about the bed.” He flops down on the comforter face first and moans happily before trying to wiggle under the covers. “Just want to be in bed with you again.”

Sure, you could tease him. Needle him saying something cheesy about you being his home, but you won’t ruin the honesty of the moment. Instead, you toss your bra and panties on top of the pile of your clothes and crawl in beside him. “You wanna be big spoon or little spoon, baby?”

Turning big eyes on you hopefully, he sighs. “Can I be the little?” He asks, wanting to feel you surrounding him. He needs the intimacy of it.

“Of course.” Turning over and opening your arms to him, the sensation of having him settle into your arms again after a week apart is so much better than anything else could be.

He’s shameless as he snuggles back into your arms with a happy sigh. “Fuck, I missed you.” He mumbles. “Gonna stay with me the entire time, next time.”

“Yeah?” You grin, scattered kisses across his back as you hold him. “Can’t stand to be away from me, huh?” Alright, maybe you’ll tease him a little.

“Love you.” Dieters breathes out, already falling asleep. “Can’t— can’t live without you.” He mumbles the second before a soft snore takes over.

“I love you, too, baby.” One arm tightens slightly around his waist as his breathing settles and evens, and you rest your head on his shoulder blade contentedly. “More than anything.”

******

“Lib - we live together.” Dieter rolls his eyes, phone on speaker to his manager as the two of you get ready in the shared bathroom. “Do we have to do the contracted sixth date? It seems a little excessive.”

“You’ll have fun.” Libby insists for the third time. “Just humour me. You’ve been working hard and I’m proud of you – this will be a nice night out.” She had dropped off a dress and accessories as usual earlier in the week, assuring you that the little red one-shoulder cocktail dress would look amazing on you. “Jordan has the address. Just go and have fun.”

Dieter groans and rolls his eyes at you, shrugging helplessly. “Are you sure that a couch date with IG photos won’t cut it? What is this event anyway?” He knows Libby won’t give a straight answer, not when she knows you don’t know.

“It’s a benefit.” Libby sighs, playing along. “Charity fundraiser for medical research. It’s a good cause, Dee. And the food will be top notch.”

“It will be fun.” You’ve already put on the dress, the jewelry, and inspected the shoes that you doubt you’ll be able to walk in, and you run your thumb over the peak of Dieter’s shoulder. Then the contract will be over and buried.”

He sighs dramatically and looks back at the mirror. His dark suit is perfectly cut and the tie and pocket square matches your dress perfectly. Another nod towards your bond. “We’re already dressed.” He concedes. “Fine but we’re only going for the food.”

“And you’re going to dance!” Libby adds quickly, before he can hang up on her. “At least one song. Preferably close to wherever the photographers are.”

Dieter gives you a small shrug. “I tried babe.” He offers with small pout. “We’ve got to go.”

“It’s okay.” You give him a quick kiss before applying your lipstick while he says goodbye to Libby. “It’s fine. We’ll have a nice meal and we’ll have a dance. It sounds nice.” In the six weeks since he came home from Switzerland, Libby hadn’t interfered too much, only helping you pick out your first modeling contract doing promotional print work for Audi. It hadn’t been hard to agree to – you just had to pose with cars and then they not only paid you a ton of money, but gave you a brand new car on top of it. She hadn’t brought up date six until a few weeks ago, and at that point you couldn’t have cared less. Things are good – who cares if it’s just a normal date or one attached to the old contract?

“I guess.” He rolls his eyes and opens his arms to let you inspect him. “How do I look?”

“Hmmm…” Making a show of inspecting him, you pull an imaginary piece of lint off his suit and brush his shoulders lightly. “Like I wanna tear this off you and make that dance a horizontal mambo,” you admit, giving him a grin.

“Another reason that we should stay home.” He slaps your ass playfully and shoots you a wink. “My car or yours?” He asks with a grin, knowing how proud you are of that car.

“Didn’t Libby say Jordan is driving?” That usually means his car, because you’re still getting used to the idea that his team also sort of works for you now. It’s all very much a grey-area. “If Jordan drives, then we can both drink whatever we want, and that always leads to fun sex before we pass out.”

“True.” His hand wraps around your waist as the two of you walk out of the bedroom and walk towards the stairs. “So Jordan is absolutely driving. Maybe we can get frisky in the back of the car on the way home.”

“It’s bad enough my best friend’s boyfriend has born witness to us getting busy, we don’t need to add more of your employees to the list.” Steph and Rico are still going strong, and it speaks volumes about his integrity that he has never once given you grief or teased you about that night in the back of the car.

“Technically he was not the boyfriend at the time.” He reminds you as the two of you walk downstairs together. “So you get a pass. Besides, he might be a bit of a voyeur.”

“And that makes it totally okay.” You wrinkle your nose at Dieter and laugh, seeing Jordan ready at the bottom of the stairs already when you get to the bottom. “Well, let’s get the evening started. Shall we?”

Dieter plasters a smile on his face, an act, and nods. “We will make sure that we have a great night. And we will be surrounded by some big names tonight. Lots of press and photographers from what I’ve heard.”

“A night of smiling and nodding politely. Got it.” He’s in his element much more than he likes to admit when there are scores of other celebrities and press around, but you’re definitely still adjusting. The last mixer you’d gone to was for the studio that is producing his next movie and the only reason you had been comfortable there was because you already knew his costars.

“I think you will find it to be a good night.” Even though Jordan is there, Dieter opens the car door for you to get in. “At least, I hope.”

“You’re going to be with me.” Sliding across the backseat of the car, you make room for Dieter to get in beside you and lean over to kiss his cheek when he does. “That’s all I need.”

******

The drive to the event isn’t long, only about forty-five minutes with traffic. His fingers tap against his thigh and his other hand holds yours firmly.

The building that you eventually pull up to is large and showy, just like most things in Los Angeles, with elegant floor-to-ceiling glass windows and tropical plants all lining the gorgeously kept garden outside of what appears to be an art gallery and event hall in one. There are onlookers being kept at bay by security, reporters and cameras everywhere, and a beautiful blue carpet outside instead of red that tons of celebrities are always making their way down. “Jeez…” You breathe, hanging on to Dieter’s hand tightly right before one of the venue’s security team moves to open your car door. “This is…a much bigger thing than I was expecting.”

“Yeah?” Dieter plays dumb, exiting the car and looking back and holding his hand out to you to help you out. “I’m sure you will fit right in.” He promises with a grin. “You look incredible.” He doesn’t mention that it’s a cause close to your heart.

“I told you, I’m just going to keep letting Libby dress me. She could have been a stylist.” Cameras turn toward the two of you almost instantly, and you smooth your dress slightly with the hand that is holding your clutch. “Libby can dress me and you can undress me. I’m everybody’s favourite Barbie.”

Snickering, he pulls you close and presses his lips to yours. “Maybe that should be your modeling slogan.” He teases.

“Dirty.” You huff, grinning and wrinkling your nose at him as you laugh. “Always so dirty.”

“You love me for it.” He jokes, winking at you before leaning in and kissing you for the required kiss.

The photographers and reporters have stations along the long entry carpet, but you seem to stare past them for a long moment when you see the logo for event embossed on a sign in between two palm trees near the entrance. Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation Annual Fundraising Gala reads the banner, and you gasp audibly before looking back at Dieter beside you. “Wha— is this—? Did you?” You sputter inelegantly, grasping at the question. “Did you know?”

Dieter nods. “I was the one that had it organized for L.A.” He admits proudly. He had contacted the organization to find out if they had resources and heard their need for fundraising and decided it was going to be his mission. “For Nora and every little boy and girl like her.”

You could cry right there on the spot, but instead a nearby photographer gets a shot of your throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder for a second. Dieter knows full well that any kids you have one day could also have the disease since it is genetic – and for that matter, there is still a very small chance that you might one day mysteriously develop symptoms. And that is why research is still so incredibly necessary for this particular disease. It is still such a mystery. "I love you," you murmur, sniffling back the water in your eyes when you pull back to look at him. "You're completely out of your mind sometimes and then you go and do the sweetest things in the world and I just— I'm so proud to be your soulmate."

“It’s important.” Dieter huffs, not taking compliments well, even though he knows that he deserves this. “I figured that I could get my friends and acquaintances to open their wallets for a cause that would benefit someone I love.”

“You really did all this?” It must have been a massive undertaking, from the look of things. The scope of the event seems to be enormous, and you can’t even think of how much work he put into this. “Steph would love this…” you sigh softly. “She would absolutely love it…”

“About that….” Dieter turns you around, Steph and Rico stepping out of their own car, dressed to impress as well.

"Oh my god." Somehow you manage to not bolt forward, slipping gently from Dieter's arm instead to wrap your arms tightly around Steph. "You guys look incredible! I can't believe you didn't say anything you sneaks!"

"I only found out about it today!" Steph squeals as she looks around in awe. "I cannot believe this is happening!"

“I don’t know how we managed to keep it a secret,” Rico admits, grinning brightly as he hugs you in turn. “Go on and get your picture taken and enjoy the spotlight,” he urges you. “We’re all at the same table. We’ll get the chance to talk inside.”

Dieter grins at you. “Rico helped me, but I kept Steph in the dark. I wanted her to be surprised too.” He admits.

“You’re amazing.” You take his hand, suddenly no longer having to force yourself to be optimistic about the night but bubbling over with excitement for it. There could be a thousand photographers between here and the entrance to the event and you would stop for every single one with the brightest possible smile on your face.

“I figured our last contracted date should be something special. Something for your family.” He smiles at you right as a photographer snaps a photo. It will be one that is on the front of People magazine in two weeks as they highlight the entire event.

"It's perfect." The whole night could end right now and it would still be perfect, but the two of you very slowly make your way inside and past the group of folks from the Foundation who all want to shake Dieter's hand and take a picture with him. They're chattering about the turnout and the venue and how excited they are for the food that's being served tonight like he had a hand in planning every single aspect. "Exactly how much of this did you do?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him when he ushers you over to the bar to get your first drinks of the night.

Dieter grins at you and gives a small shrug. “I – to be honest, I haven’t been working on securing a new project over the past three weeks.” He admits. “I’ve been working on this fundraiser.”

"You're such a sneak." And even as you shake your head at him, you're leaning in to give him a kiss. "This is amazing, baby. The research they can do with this kind of money is so important." The A-list celebrities starting to file in are impressive to say the very least, and you really have to wonder how many favours he called in to get this kind of attendance.

“Hopefully so.” Dieter grins as he looks around. “Libby helped garner attention. Get the word out to other managers and put the bug in their ear that this will be the event to attend.” He chuckles. “She’s hoping this will become L.A.’s Met Gala.”

“L.A.’s Met Gala is a fundraiser for research on chronic digestive disorders.” You have to laugh, shaking your head again as Dieter orders your drink and his own from the bartender. “I guess that makes sense with how full of shit this town is,” you joke, waggling your eyebrows at the pun. “What do you think the themes will be like? Outfits inspired by your favourite ingredient that you can’t eat anymore?” Despite the joking, it would be amazing if it happened. There is so much that doctors don’t know about the disease that affects every waking second of your niece’s life. It would be wonderful to start getting some more answers.

He snorts and slides his hand down to pat your ass fondly. "It would be fun and funny." He hums happily, already sensing this is going to be a huge turnout. "Everything tonight is going to benefit research and from the ticket sales alone, we've tripled the funds they've had for the last two years. That's not including the silent auction." Dieter grins. "There have been a lot of things donated and Libby is looking at the entire event as a tax write off."

"I wish I had known; I would have figured out a way to help." Of course it was his intention to surprise you, but for a cause like this? For something that means so much to you? You would have done anything in your power to help. "Auction off a painting commission or something."

He shakes his head. "I wanted this to be something I did for you this time." He insists. "You have— you've given me so much and I wanted to find a way to show you – give you something that can help your family – my family."

"You really have no idea how much you've already done for us." Leaning into his side, you nod your thanks to the bartender after he sets your drinks down and floats away, letting you focus on Dieter again. "Either way, baby? We're so, so proud to be your family."

He leans in and nuzzles against your neck, kissing your pulse softly. "I love you." Your confidence in him means everything and it's just solidified his happiness with finding you.

"I love you, too." His arms keep you close, wrapping around your waist and holding you against him for a moment. You nuzzle him back before leaning back to kiss him and picking up both of your drinks. "What do you think, handsome? Want to mingle a little?"

"Absolutely." He flashes you a smile you always call his 'celebrity grin' the trademark roguish grin that you swear makes panties drop and takes his drink from to you clink against your own. "To getting these selfish, egotistical celebs to open up their inflated purses for a good cause." He jokes, knowing at one time that was your opinion of him.

******

The first portion of the night is time for people to bid on auction items and mingle, and then there are speeches from members of the Foundation. Thanks are given, praise is heaped, and outlines are given for what types of research studies will be funded with the money raised tonight. The crowning glory of the night, according to the last person speaking, is the menu you're about to indulge in. Each course of this four-course supper adheres to the strict guidelines that people with Crohn's and Colitis have to work through every single day, and it is the inaugural dinner for a catering company that will do exactly this for its future clients: specialized menus for people with complicated dietary needs. The company, she announces proudly, is called Nora Approved, and it is only then that you realize Rico has disappeared from the table.

Dieter watches as your eyes widen, clapping loudly when Rico appears on the stage to answer any questions about the night's menu if they need to be answered and give an outline of what this catering service planned to do.

Steph is practically in tears beside you, and the two of you grab for each other's hands in the same wild motion of shock. "He— he named—" She can't even choke out the words under her breath with the tears threatening to spill from her eyes any second. When you feel like you can breathe again, you turn to look at Dieter in complete disbelief. "Is that...is that why Jordan's been working so much? Did Rico actually quit to start a business?"

"Rico didn't quit." Dieter stresses. "He is merely branching out into a business opportunity that arose after an investor decided they liked his business plan." During the planning of the event, Rico had originally been just planning the menu but the idea of the catering service and thoroughness of his bodyguard had impressed him. Dieter's LLC had – through Libby – invested in the man's idea.

"Dieter Bravo, making dreams come true." You almost don't know what to say, except that you're so flabbergasted by the whole thing that you turn back to Steph and squeeze her hand tightly. "Don't you ever try to tell me that that man isn't head over heels in love with you. He named his business after your little girl."

Steph's eyes are still watering, and her head bobbles up and down quickly. "I – he – oh my god." She breathes out, clutching your hand desperately. "I love him. I really love him."

There's only a single pang of melancholy that lasts half the length of a heartbeat, because you know that Shawn would be so proud to see someone love his baby girl as much as Rico clearly does. There is no chance that he isn't looking down on all this and smiling, glad to see Steph finding her happiness again after so long without it. "I think it's time to tell him that if you haven't already," you laugh quietly, breathily, shaking your head a little as Rico waves to the crowd and hops off the stage to disappear back into what you have to assume would be the kitchens of the building.

Dieter watches with approval as the servers start to bring out the plates. Watching the various celebrities and influential people in this room start to try the food. Wanting this for Rico as well as the foundation. He deserves it. As much as he hates to lose the man cooking for him daily when he's home, this is an impact that he wants made. Especially because it will benefit the little girl that has stolen his heart.

In your entire life you've never heard a room fall silent the way the echoing art gallery does when people start eating. The menu card carefully set out at everyone's places details each course and you can see people everywhere picking up their cards and inspecting them while they eat. It's like watching an entire mass of people hear an amazing song for the first time as one by one, each guest starts to light up with enjoyment.

After about fifteen minutes, obviously working on something in the kitchens, Rico comes back to the table and slides into his seat, immediately leaning over and kissing Steph's cheek. "Sorry about that. I needed to handle a few things." He murmurs to her softly.

“You’re—you’re absolutely incredible.” Steph’s eyes are wide when he sits back down beside her. Wide and watery and so full of love that she could burst. “I—I can’t believe— this is how you decided to have your career as a chef. Doing something like this a-and—and naming it after…” It’s no use, the tears prickling at her eyes spill over and she takes one of his hands in both of hers. “I love you…completely and totally and I—” She laughs through the tears, willing them away, but she’s so overwhelmed with the enormity of everything happening tonight that she can’t helped it. “I love the way you love my daughter.”

Rico grins proudly and reaches up to wipe away the tears from Steph’s eyes. “I love you both. I know it’s so soon to think about anything permanent and I will always follow your lead on letting Nora know, but I’m all in sweetheart.”

“We can—” she sniffles, burying her face in his neck as she hugs him close. “We should tell Nora.” Steph is completely overcome, so entirely overwhelmed and grateful that this incredible man would love her daughter so fully. It had been a secret fear that no one would stick with her, not wanting to care for a chronically ill child that wasn’t their own. But Rico not only loved her, he had taken steps to form a life around her. That is proof enough to Steph a hundred times over that her love for him was not misplaced. “Whenever you want to, love.”

“Whenever you want.” Rico cups her cheek and smiles at her softly. “I never want to replace Shawn, I couldn’t. I just want to love both of you and be there for the two of you.” He chuckles. “The best thing that happened to me was when you beat on my boss’s door to beat his ass.”

“I love you.” Steph murmurs softly, leaning into his touch right there in their seats. “I’m always going to love Shawn but that doesn’t mean I love you any less.” She laughs quietly, pressing a kiss to his lips before she shifts backward again in her seat, not wanting to make the other people at the table uncomfortable. “Maybe we could talk to her over brunch tomorrow? Some good news over her favourite meal?”

“Why don’t we do that?” He asks with a grin. “I can come over early and make it.” He’s not been staying over, never wanting to put Steph in a position to have to explain why he was in bed with her.

“That would be really nice.” After that – after Nora knows and has adjusted to her mom having a romantic relationship – then she’ll feel comfortable adding sleepovers to the list of activities. For now they have quick liaisons or the occasional night that Nora sleeps over with Uncle Deedee and Auntie Gigi, and those have been wonderful.

Rico gives her a big grin, like she has given him the best present in the world. “I have to warn you, my Ma has already asked when I’m bringing you home and she’ll box my ears if I’m not treating you right.”

“Hmm.” Steph ducks her head, grinning so madly that she’s practically burying her head in her hands. “Nora’s never had a white Christmas before…” she offers, thinking of how much her little girl would love the snow. “Maybe it’s time? Two more months seems long enough to see how she’s adjusting to us being together.”

“We can do that.” Rico grins. “I will let Ma know. She will be overjoyed.” He’s already told his ma about them, about him falling for Steph and Nora. They are a packaged unit and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I guess that answers my question about Valentina’s invitation for us.” You hum, tilting your head at Dieter. His grandmother had sent you ornate invitations to his family’s Christmas celebration far in advance because of the travel and planning that would be necessary. You had been nervous about leaving Steph and Nora more or less alone – but if they’re going to New Jersey with Rico, then that wipes all your worries away.

“Only if you want to.” He offers. “We can always either go to your parents or invite them here.” He had met your parents a few weeks ago and still wasn’t quite sure how they felt about your soulmate.

“We can always give my folks Thanksgiving.” It’s something that you could do on your own terms, and would give them more time with Nora and you may have given this a little thought before now. “Inviting them down here for Thanksgiving means they can see Nora, too.” Shrugging slightly, you dig into the second course that the waiter has just set down in front of you: a completely diet-approved plate of cacio e pepe that looks like it belongs in a magazine spread. “We don’t have to decide tonight. But I think it sounds nice.”

“Well, I’m going wherever you are.” Dieter announces. “If it’s to my family’s Christmas, cool. If it’s to lay on a beach in the sun, bring the skimpiest bikini you own.”

“I could just wear that for you at home,” you remind him playfully, squeezing his thigh under the table and lowering your voice. “Where you’re allowed to take it off me.”

“But I want to take it off of you on a private beach.” He grins and sends you a wink. “Or on a yacht in the middle of the ocean.”

“That can be your reward for surviving another weekend with my parents.” Smirking when he pouts at you, you lean over and place a kiss on the tip of his nose. “We’ll figure it out, love. Whatever we do, we’ll have nice holidays to look forward to.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He agrees and looks down at his plate. “This looks like it should be on a painting. It’s art, isn’t it?”

“If it’s possible…” You mumble through the bite of pasta you’ve just taken. “It tastes even better.”

“We’ve got high hopes for this dinner.” Dieter tells you. “Rico wanted to knock it out if the park to show that foods that are accommodating to Crohn’s doesn’t have to be bland.”

“Well you’re doing a very good job.” The older woman sitting across the table tells Rico with a wide smile. The four of you had been seated with people from the Foundation and this woman had been a donor most of her life owing to her own struggle with the disease. “If you’re ready to take new clients, young man, I think you’re going to get a lot of business from this room.”

“Nora Approved is ready for whatever people need.” Rico assures her with a bright smile. He’s relieved that people seem to be eager for his food. “We will accommodate much more than Crohn’s. But that disease is very close to our hearts.”

“Nora is very lucky to have you,” the woman tells him, rightfully guessing that the business is named for someone specific. “I hope she knows how loved she is.”

“She does.” Steph smiles and squeezes Rico’s hand. “She has an amazing set of men in her life. Especially her uncle Deedee.” She grins at Dieter. “She’s five and completely spoiled.”

You can see on Dieter’s face that he’s going to protest that spoiling her is his right, and you grin. “The Toy Story birthday party and phone call from Joan Cusack was pretty over the top. But it was great. She loved it almost as much as she loves you.” With your hand in his you laugh happily.

This is your family – and it’s strange and sometimes messy and a little complicated – but it’s perfect in its very own way.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat​ @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri    

YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape​ @sammus-white​ @spanishmossmagnolia  @frasmotic @quietpainter    

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #The Bubble #soulmate au #Trash Can Man

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 2 Reveals 2023

Fashion is the Armor [text, audio] (Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types) written by wanderingjedihistorian, performed by kbirb Summary: It’s not that Fox would have reconsidered things with Bail and Breha if he had known about…this. It’s just that if someone had told him he needed to go shopping for a “proper prince consort wardrobe” and that said shopping trip would make him long for the days of babysitting Senators…well. He’d have figured out some way to avoid this part.

Through Thin Walls (9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)) written by noxsoulmate, performed by Juulna Summary:“Hey, so please don’t freak out–”

In the next moment, Carlos could hear a thud, followed by a curse, and he was pretty sure the guy had just hit his head somehow. Carlos winced in sympathy.

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just your neighbor here.”

“Dude,” came the reply, the voice sounding rough, probably from all the crying. “Way to give a person a heart attack. Also, creepy much?”

“My apologies. The walls here are basically paper with some paint slapped on. So uhm… noises are somewhat muffled but… not really, I guess.” ~*~ 3 times Carlos only heard his neighbor’s voice, 2 times TK lusted over a certain officer, +1 time it all melted together.

Captain Jack Books (Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017)) written by TrebleMaker07 and Shakespeare_stole_my_url, performed by Shakespeare_stole_my_url Summary: Jack Kelly is the proud owner of Captain Jack Books; however, business is down and the Delancey brothers have expanded. How will he keep Captain Jack Books relevant? And who is the cute guy that keeps coming around?

Fashionable Lectures, composed and delivered with Tact and Titillation (Lilywhite Boys Series - K. J. Charles) written by vinia, performed by jennisaisquoi Summary: The Marchioness of Cirencester seeks advice from her best friend, the Countess of Moreton.

Sk8 Infinity: Winter Break (SK8 the Infinity (Anime)) created by Syr, Opalsong, and Cantarina Summary: EM: It’s another episode of Ambiguous Robot and Earnest Hero Watching Anime, the podcast all about anime, fandom, and what shows are worth spending your short hours on this earth watching, and the drama they create along the way. I: Today we’re talking about Sk8 Infinity: Winter Break, the prequel series to SK8 The Infinity. And no, don’t ask us why it’s called that. This is just the anime nonsense that we are here for.

Old Words, New Mission (Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)) written by poppetawoppet, performed by GhostCwtch Summary: In which 'Til the end of the line' resets all the other code words.

Nearly Enough (Hornblower - C. S. Forester) written by Sanguinity, performed by Luzula_podfic Summary: Over the course of two wild days and two wild nights in Kingston, Hornblower must choose which he wants more: command of the Retribution, or Lieutenant William Bush.

admiring flowers (Hannibal (TV)) written by Koschei_B, performed by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid Summary: Will's not a goddess, but he gets kidnapped by the Reaper all the same.

At the End of All Things [text, audio] (Transformers: Prime) written by autobotscoutriella, performed by Gilraina Summary: At the end of the war, Optimus goes in search of something still missing.

when all the roads you took came back to me (บทกวีของปีแสง | Be My Favorite (TV)) written by Kiranokira, performed by pieces0fstars Summary: In a timeline where Kawi and Pisaeng are both famous and secretly dating, a jetlagged Kawi sits on Pisaeng's lap during a livestream and accidentally outs them to the public.

It’s in the last fifteen seconds of the live while Pisaeng is promoting an upcoming appearance at a local music festival that a sleepy weight drops into his lap, changing the entire direction of not only his life but Kawi’s, too. Sweetly and adoringly, Kawi winds both arms around Pisaeng’s neck, puts his face on Pisaeng’s shoulder, and whines, “Pisaaaeeeng, you weren’t there when I woke up.”

Once More Into the Void (Teen Wolf (TV)) written by melly_diamond, performed by thilia Summary: Derek Hale has moved on with his life; he has a wife and child now, has rebuilt the Hale house, and is living contentedly in Beacon Hills. For a while. Until a long-buried evil rears its ugly head and chooses a new target to torment; Lorelei Hale, the nine year old daughter of Derek and Sasha Hale. And when no one, anywhere, can seem to rid the little girl of her interloper, a plea goes out into the supernatural world for their final option, a mysterious being - shaman, exorcist, magic-wielder - known only as M. to save her. Who is M.? And is he the answer to all their prayers or a whole other problem in itself?

#podfic #fanfic #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars prequel trilogy #9 1 1 lone star #newsies broadway #lilywhite boys series #sk8 the infinity #marvel cinematic universe #captain america #hornblower #hannibal #transformers prime #be my favorite #teen wolf

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle  

– Chapter 1 – My New Home 

The Royal Romance, an AU series 

Series Premise: An American teenager from New York city is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobles, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Prologue

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC (Sophia) 

Other Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC (Daniel) 

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Sophia Taylor and Bethany Beaumont. 

Rating: M*Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language. Please excuse all errors. 

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 1967, Read: 9 minutes 

Chapter 1 – Feels Like Home 

Chapter summary: Sophie begins her Cordonian adventure and moves in to House Beaumont. It all starts here. 

Music Inspiration:  Feels Like Home - Chantal Kreviazuk 

A/N: my submission for @choicesflashfics, Week #19, prompt #2- “It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean it. You still said it.” @Choicesficwriterscreations 

A/N2: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the US; is Barthelemy Beaumont’s 2nd wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) was Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N3: my submission for @Choicesholidays Valentine’s Day Prompts - “my house is your house, and you know you’re always safe here.” #cfwc valentines 2023 

Marabelle  

Chapter 1: 

Waiting for her arrival, Sophie’s Aunt Bethany was standing at the doorway of the estate with tears in her eyes. 

Her beautiful niece was finally here. She remembered seeing this sweet girl at her sister’s (Sophie’s mother’s) funeral two weeks ago. 

As her sons Bertrand and Maxwell brought the luggage from the car to the door, Sophie walked towards her aunt. 

“Sophie, welcome my dear! I am so happy that you are here,” said Aunt Bethany as she moved forward to hug her niece. 

“Thank you, Auntie Beth. I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you again!” replied Sophie, hugging her aunt. 

“I have missed you very much.” Even though her aunt could never replace her mother in her heart, she found comfort in her aunt’s embrace. 

As they embraced, Sophie could sense the sadness in her aunt’s heart. The loss of her sister had been a tremendous one for her; not only for Sophie. The last time her aunt saw Sophie’s mom alive, her mother had been very ill and died shortly after Bethany left to return to Cordonia. Sophie was a split image of a younger version of her mom and was sure that fact added to her sadness. 

“Mother, let us go inside and get Sophie settled.” Bertrand knew how long the flight was from New York and that she must be exhausted. 

“Oh yes! Of course, you must be jetlagged, and with the time difference...Maxwell please show her to her room.” 

 Maxwell took Sophie by the hand to lead her into the estate. “C’mon Soph, you are going to love your it here.” 

 Once inside the front doors, Sophie looked around taking it all in. Her aunt and uncle’s estate was like nothing she had ever seen before. 

It was huge! There were countless marble statues, fountains, sculptures, portraits; there was a grand staircase that led to another floor. 

There was also an enormous dining room, formal sitting room and even a ballroom. 

“Wow, this is incredible,” exclaimed Sophie, looking up at the high vaulted ceiling of the foyer. 

“Let me show you to your room Soph, it’s upstairs and to the right.” Maxwell leads her up the grand staircase as Bertrand directs the attendants to carry her luggage up the stairs. 

When they arrived at the door to her new room, Maxwell opened it with a flourish. She walked over to a large bay window overlooking the gardens below. It was breathtaking to look out beyond the gardens onto the many acres of vineyards. “This is for me?!” 

Oh. My. God. What a view! Sophie thought to herself. 

She noticed that there was a balcony off her room, which opened up to the outside.  "Look!"

Maxwell smiled, “After dinner, I will take you on a tour of the grounds.” Her cousin Maxwell was so welcoming, making every effort to ensure that she was comfortable in her new home. 

Sophie looked up at Maxwell, saying “thank you”, in a whisper and hugged him tightly. When they separated, Maxwell saw the unshed tears in her eyes. Lifting her chin with his thumb index finger, Maxwell assures her, “always remember, ‘my house is your house, and you know you’re always safe here’.” 

Understanding that his cousin was overwhelmed, Max left Sophie to relax and get acquainted with her new space at her own pace, in privacy. 

She walked around trying to decide where to start unpacking, when she heard her cell phone ring. Buried in her pile of luggage on the floor, she went over to find her carry-on bag. 

When she found her phone and saw who was calling, she fell back on her bed knocking over her stack of clothes in the excitement, “Daniel!”. 

Daniel, her best friend from New York, was a welcome voice from America. He was a faithful ally, who was a great listener and a source of support. He was a bit modest, but he would always listen to Sophie’s problems, never offering any advice because he didn’t want to tell someone what to do.  

Since he came out as gay last year, their friendship grew stronger. He was an important person to have in her life; her confidante, and she was his. 

“Hey,” she answered her phone. 

“It is so good to hear your voice, Sophie!” Daniel replied. 

“Dan, you have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice!” 

“Sophie, are you okay?” 

“Oh, yes I’m fine, everything is great here,” replied Sophie. 

“Really? You sound upset.” He knew her better than herself. 

“No, really, I am just tired.” 

Knowing his friend all too well, “What is wrong, Sophia?” 

“Everything is fine,” Sophie lied. “I guess I am just overwhelmed.” 

Hearing a knock on her door, she heard Maxwell singsong, “Sophie, dinner in 10...” 

“Thank you, Max, I will come down.” 

Daniel continued, “you don’t have to tell me anything now, but if you need to talk, I am always available.” 

“Okay, I will, thanks Daniel. I miss you!” 

“Miss you too, Soph.” 

*** 

When Sophie entered the dining room, the table was already set for dinner. A servant came to greet her and guided her to her seat. 

Bethany sat next to Sophie, with Maxwell sitting across from them. Bertrand was sitting at the head of the table. 

“How are your new accommodations? If you need anything, please let me know,” Bertrand inquired. 

“Oh, thank you, the room is beautiful, and huge,” Sophie looked delighted. 

“Well, you deserve every comfort,” her aunt smiled. 

“Will it always be so formal for meals?” Sophie asked while noticing all of the different cutlery set on the table in front of her. 

“Oh heavens, no!” chuckled her aunt. 

“Mother, it will be helpful for Sophia to become familiar with formal dining, now that she is in Cordonia.” 

“There is much to learn about your station, my dear.” 

“My station?” 

“You are ‘Lady Sophia Taylor of House Beaumont’, formerly of New York. Table etiquette is an essential trait to learn for court.” 

As Bethany sighed, Maxwell explained that whenever a guest would be joining them for dinner, Bertrand wanted to impress them. 

“Maxwell, must you always act like a child?” Bertrand scoffed, pinching his nose in distaste. 

Maxwell sarcastically countered back, “Yes, your majesty.”  

Bertrand sighed, “I didn’t mean it, Max!” 

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean it. You still said it.” 

“Boys!!!” admonished Bethany. 

“Sophie, I am so happy there is another female in this house! 

Everyone turned to the sound of a throat clearing. 

“Am I interrupting something?” A tall man with dark brown, wavy hair and speaking with a Cordonian accent asked hesitantly. 

“Mr. Walker, thank you for coming.” Bertrand offered him a seat at the table, next to Maxwell. 

Maxwell started snickering when Drake asked, “why do I feel like I entered the twilight zone?” 

Bethany shook her head, sighing, “Sophia, sweetheart, I would like to introduce you to Drake, a good friend of Maxwell’s.” 

“Sophie is our cousin from New York,” Maxwell explains.  

Drake stands to shake her hand. 

“Drake, please call me Sophie.”  

“Nice to meet you Sophie, I hope you enjoy your stay here in Cordonia.” Drake smiles. 

“Sophie lives here now; she will be going to the U of C in the Fall,” Maxwell explains. 

“Really, well, it’s an impressive university, Sophie. You will enjoy it. What will you be studying?” 

“Thank you, I am starting my first year of an MBA degree.” 

As pleasant conversation continued, the dinner began, and Sophie tried everything. The food was delicious; using the utensils properly to Bertrand’s delight. 

“I am glad you enjoyed your meal, Sophie,” Bethany said after dessert. 

“Yes, I love Italian cuisine, especially pasta.” 

“Bravo, bravissimo,” Maxwell winks at Sophie. 

“Yes, well, Drake, let's move to my office to discuss the horses.” Bertrand stands motioning for Drake to follow him. 

“Mrs. Beaumont, thank you for dinner. Sophie, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you around.” 

*** 

Bertrand sat at his desk as he scrolled through the horses listed for sale at the horse ranch on his laptop. The horse that he wanted to buy for Sophie was available to be shown tomorrow. 

“Drake, would you mind accompanying me to the horse ranch tomorrow to see this horse for Sophie?” 

“Sure, sure, I can show you this horse,” answered Drake. 

“But, Sophie needs to be the one to choose her horse. The size and age of the horse are important factors for her.” 

Bertrand continues, “I understand that, but this horse will be ready to be shown tomorrow. I know its short notice, but I know Sophie would love to take a horse home with her.” 

“It’s important that Sophie ‘connects’ with the horse and that they are compatible.

Look, the owner of the horse ranch is a buddy of mine. I will be at the polo match tomorrow morning and the horse ranch is close by. I can personally help to match her to a horse that she would be happy with.” 

“I trust your judgement, Drake.” 

“It’s my pleasure. Thank you, Bertrand. I appreciate it.” 

*** 

After touring the grounds of the estate, Sophie went up to her room. She changed into her pajamas and lay down on her bed. 

She stared at the ceiling listening to music on her phone.

She cried herself to sleep. 

Her thoughts were filled with the day’s events, and then ....she thought about her mother’s death and about how sad she was when she died. 

*** 

Sophie awoke the next morning to a knock on her door. 

“Sophia, breakfast is being served downstairs in 30 minutes.”  

“Thank you, auntie.” 

While eating breakfast, Sophie talked to her aunt about the horse showing. 

“I want to be able to ride the horse before making any commitments.” 

“I know, I just worry about you Sophie.” 

“I’m fine, Auntie Beth, I promise. This isn’t the first time I’ve been around horses. I think I will be okay.” 

“I know you will, sweetie.” 

“Max, can you come with me to the horse ranch? 

“Of course, I am coming!” 

“Thanks, Max” 

*** 

Sophie, Maxwell and Bertrand drove to the horse ranch which was approximately 30 minutes away from Ramsford. 

Along the way, the town car passed the entrance to the CRPC; The Cordonian Royal Polo Club. 

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed: @kingliam2019 @twinkleallnight @xpandass420x @queenmiarys @harleybeaumont @busywoman @marietrinmimi @angelasscribbles @imashybish @karahalloway @703cowbarn @surrenderronnie1 @txemrn @ao719 @delmissesryan @kyra75 @mom2000aggie @writing-not @princess-geek

#the royal romance #liam rys #trr #trr fanfic #trr liam x oc #cfwc fics of the week #choices flashfics #marabelle #prince liam

[magicshopaholic]

Weekend Story: A Japanese GP Special (Part 1)

Summary: Years before all the heartbreak and drama, Kim Taehyung walked onto my paddock at Suzuka. Try as I might to look away, he was the only thing I could see on track.

or

How Taehyung and Dilara first met

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 27.5 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, stress, sexism, jealousy, heavy making out, blowjobs, fingering, dirty talk, sex

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @meirkive, @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio

A/N: In honour of one of the best tracks on the calendar (but a questionable race :/), I've decided to post the first draft of Taehyung and Dilara's origin story! The initial idea was to just post an excerpt but not only was it too hard to choose, but so many of you wonderful readers requested the entire thing (despite the 40K threat) and after a point I couldn't imagine cutting anything out.

Do remember, though, this was written a very very long time ago, over a year before I even opened this blog. So while this is canon, in that these events already have and will continue to be referred to in future fics, there will be minor inconsistencies and differences in style of writing compared to the rest of the series. The biggest of these is probably that it's told from a first person POV, ie. Dilara's POV.

That being said, this is the first BTS fic I ever wrote and is therefore vv special to me, and I hope you all love it too :) It is set eight months prior to Los Angeles over the span of a race weekend.

(Also, congratulations to Max Verstappen who became two-time world champion today 🇳🇱)

Listen to: “on se plaît” by françoise hardy

part 2 | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

a night to remember

Something’s different.

I stare at the ten foot poster, frowning and tapping my foot as the coffee in my cup sloshes around softly. Something’s different. I’m sure of it. My eyes skim everything; my own face, hair and race suit until the poster cuts off at the torso, followed by Max’s features and everything else on the poster. I still can’t figure it out.

Someone sidles up to me. “Do you know that from back there, it looks like you’re just admiring a poster of yourself?”

I shake my head, not changing my posture one bit. “Something’s different.” From the corner of my eye, I see Max frown, studying the poster himself. For all his fame as a hot-headed prodigy in Formula One, guaranteed future world champion and my very own teammate at Red Bull Racing, he looks just as confused as I am.

“I think my hair is parted differently,” he says thoughtfully after about a minute.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, maybe it’s the fact that you’re smiling. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this -”

“It’s nothing to do with our faces,” I interrupt him, rolling my eyes. “It’s something else… the background or design or - or layout…” There’s a few more seconds of silence before Max sighs.

“Alright, I’ve lost interest. Can we go inside now?”

“I’m right behind you,” I murmur absently, now scanning the text at the bottom of the poster.

“Dilara, Christian is literally looking right at you from the Red Bull enclosure.”

That gets me to pay attention. I snap away from the poster in the parking lot and join a mildly smug Max as he makes his way into Suzuka, the circuit in Japan. One of the last races of the season, Japan is chilly as expected and I internally groan in anticipation of the three days of the weekend that we’ll need to drive around in the cold, waiting for our tires to heat up before they can really zoom.

Thursday is PR day, however. All of us drivers have reached the paddock early in the morning, straight from the airport from the looks of it, while our luggage gets wheeled to our hotel about twenty minutes away from the circuit. I’m not the only one that’s jetlagged and bleary-eyed; from across the paddock, I see Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, in Ray Bans and what looks like a set of robes over his jeans, rubbing his eyes as he looks down at his phone. Behind him, Daniel Ricciardo and his trainer Michael appear in identical McLaren hoodies, slow and unsmiling, with large coffees in their hands. I take a sip from my own when Max groans.

“What a shitty PR schedule?” Max doesn’t bother with any more small talk and gets straight to the point. “Why can’t we just have PR where all we need to do is sit and answer a bunch of questions?” he complains, reaching for my cup without permission.

I make a sound of annoyance but let go of the cup without much protest. Becoming friends with Max was as easy as it was unexpected, despite the fact that I share a first name with his ex. We don’t talk about it or even refer to it, but when everyone was in Monaco a week early for Daniel’s birthday party, the unspoken assumption was that I would be crashing at Max’s.

“One final year of Honda PR,” I tell him, trying to be comforting but failing, for I don’t want to sit around while a bunch of people talk in Japanese and Christian, our prematurely greying team principal in his early forties, pretends to not be annoyed while he answers questions in his dry English accent. “Gotta suck it up, though. They did deliver some pretty good engines the last couple of years. I was hoping to get in a quick workout today before leaving, though. It’s like a three hour drive to Tokyo.”

“Taking time away from your fangirling, is it?” Max grins when I squirm, reaching over and snatching my coffee back.

“I don’t fangirl,” I reply shortly. “Not in public anyway.”

“What about -”

“And that one night in Ibiza.” I don’t bother explaining to him that I was drunk and that the entire club was jamming to Daechwita. Max just wouldn’t understand.

He does give me a look, though. “You’re telling me you won’t fangirl while you’re at their concert? How would that even happen?”

“So we’re officially using fangirl as a verb, then? Believe me, no one’s going to be noticing what I’m doing at the concert,” I inform him confidently. “There’s probably a one percent overlap between BTS fans and F1 fans anyway - I’m pretty sure I’ll be anonymous.”

“Oh, sure, we’ll see.”

Over the year or so that I’ve known Max, I’ve gotten used to his need to add a sarcastic comment everywhere, irrespective of the context, which is why it takes me almost a minute to process what he’s just said.

“Wait.” I slow down slightly before frowning up at him. “What did you just say?”

Max raises his eyebrows under his Red Bull cap, ignoring a photographer who darts in front of us to take a picture (Red Bull teammates enter the paddock together!). “I said we’ll see.”

“Yeah, but… you’re being facetious, right?”

“Not a hundred percent sure what that word means but I’m going with no.” When I stare at him, eyes widening, he frowns in confusion. “I meant, we’ll see because we’ll be there,” he explains kindly.

“No, no, no, no,” I mutter, slapping his shoulder. “What does that mean? How are you - how did you even get tickets?”

“Lily got them for us.”

Lily, meaning Lily He, Chinese-American golfer dating Alex Albon, another fellow driver. Also the person who got me my ticket. “Um -” I clear my throat, trying to make sense of this. “Lily said she was getting tickets for us.”

“Yeah. That’s what she did,” he says calmly, reaching for my coffee again.

“No, as in, her and me, us,” I say tightly, feeling my heart race. Max Verstappen cannot see me at a BTS concert. “And Lexie, of course. 

“Didn’t Lexie get food poisoning or something?”

I sigh. My trainer and probably the closest friend I have these days threw up on the flight from London to Tokyo and given the tight circle that is the F1 community, the news probably travelled to everyone before we even landed. It’s a blow, but there’s not much I can do about it.

“Yeah, she did,” I confirm, trying to hide my disappointment at losing my trainer for a day. “I told her not to eat ramen at Kuala Lumpur airport. Anyway,” I add hurriedly, getting back on track, “I thought Lily would just give that ticket to Alex and that’s it.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind if Alex goes with you?”

“No. He’s nice. And he can't make fun of me without making fun of Lily, too,” I point out, shrugging.

“Well, Lily’s us definitely included more people than you and Lexie. She got tickets for George and Lando, too, but George isn’t landing until the evening so -” He shrugs exaggeratedly, clearly oblivious to my growing horror.

George, Alex’s oldest friend and driver for Mercedes wouldn’t have been half bad. He teases and banters but is overall a decent guy. Lando, of course, a twenty year old twerp in McLaren who’s sure to have at least ten memes of me floating around by tomorrow morning, might be an even worse addition than Max.

“This is a nightmare,” I state as we reach the Red Bull garage. “Just be warned, Verstappen. I still have that video of you at that Martin Garrix concert.”

“Point taken. And don’t worry - we just want to get out of this town and see Tokyo before the race weekend officially starts,” he adds, sounding almost sincere as we pass another giant poster of him and I. “If your fangirling is the most fascinating thing we see there - not our fault.” We automatically separate to enter our own garages, right after I knock his baseball cap off his head and he playfully shoves me. “We’ll head out at four, yeah?” he calls, turning around and walking backwards, hands in his pockets.

It’s far from ideal; while everyone I’m having to go with tonight is ultimately a friend, they’re also a competitor, which means there’s still a certain distance I need to keep with each of them. Going to a concert together isn’t a bad thing at all, but watching me tearfully scream in extremely basic Korean at performers my own age is not something I want them to see. Ever.

I suppose I don’t have a choice. I’ve never been lucky enough to snag tickets to a BTS concert, mostly because I’ve never been in the same location. This time, though, their calendar and the F1 calendar have somehow overlapped - and even that’s only due to a stroke of luck that they decided to add a few more Asian concerts before their tour officially comes to a close. 

I had no idea, of course; ever since I moved from F2 into F1, I’ve only barely managed to keep up with their music, let alone anything else - I couldn’t even tell you what colour hair they’re currently sporting. Today is the last concert, though - the absolute last one - so when Lily called me as she sat in front of her laptop, waiting to pounce the moment tickets went live, I said yes without a second thought.

After an hour at the gym and a quick shower, I reach the paddock the same time that Max does. Near the Red Bull enclosure is a huge standee with both our faces on it, similar to the one I was staring at in the parking lot, Max looking smug and so Dutch while I tilt my chin down and look up with only a hint of a smile. It was a suggestion from my publicist: “You’re a girl - the only girl - and people will underestimate you. Try not to smile too much. Stay somewhere in between the Gasly and Raikonnen territory - far away from the Ricciardo area.” Under our picture is a stream of sponsor logos, starting with Honda. I frown as we walk past it, still unable to put my finger on what’s wrong with it.

Once we’re inside, I’m descended upon by hair and make-up, who touch up my cheeks and hair until PR officially starts. Half an hour in, I’m taking a break outside my garage, drinking a bottle of water and talking to Tom Clarkson, a journalist, who’s passing by on his way to the McLaren enclosure when I see a handful of photographers approaching, backs to us, busy taking pictures of someone. My first thought for some reason is Yuki Tsunoda, the only Japanese driver, but he’s no longer on the grid… I frown, but all it takes is a moment where the photographers back away and I recognise the guest immediately.

Or guests, I should say. I can hardly believe my eyes. I almost hope I’m having a moment of unconscious bias and mixing my Asian men but I know that’s an empty hope. There’s only four of them, but they’re unmistakable: the tallest, the visual, the pretty one and the one with the cheekbones. I haven’t had favourites in this band in years, but I would recognise their faces anywhere. It’s only when Namjoon points at Max’s banner on top of his garage that I realise I’m shamelessly staring.

Calm the fuck down, Dilara. I avert my eyes instantly, wishing Tom had stayed so that it would force me to rein in the fangirl inside me, but before I can, one of the Honda PR guys meets them and says something in Japanese - presumably - and points at Max’s garage. There’s a moment of foreboding when I remember that Max is still in PR and therefore the only driver left is -

“Dilara Komyshan!” The Honda guy points at me and I make out my name in the flurry of Japanese as all four members turn to look at the same time. An entire year of media training means I automatically smile and give them a small wave as they approach. Namjoon is, as expected, the first to speak.

“Dilara, great to meet you,” he says, smiling and offering his hand. The others next to him wave and mutter their greetings. My first thought is that they’re taller than I expected - or maybe that’s because everyone looks tall when you’re five foot one. They’re also… bigger than I expected. They’re lean, but camera angles must be a thing because I suddenly feel like they’re towering over me.

They must have really taken me off guard, for without thinking, I go, “Aren’t there more of you?” I realise what I’ve said only after I’ve said it. There’s a moment of silence before all of them snort. Even though I’m embarrassed, I’m also glad; there’s usually no better way to start off a conversation than a joke. “Just four of you performing tonight?”

They’re just about coming around. “They were too lazy,” says Jimin, his smile even prettier in person. “Are you coming to the concert?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“First time ever,” I confess, crossing my fingers before cringing and lowering my hand. “But at least I know my favourite members now,” I add, gesturing to them and Jimin winks. 

I know what I’m doing - and I have a feeling they do too. It’s not a big deal, but it does happen remarkably often. Every time a male celebrity comes to the paddock, they inevitably pass by Red Bull to meet the first and only girl on the grid. It’s never to hit on me or anything, but as per my publicist during media training: “There’s probably something about the sudden dip in testosterone in the interaction that if you flirt, they will reciprocate”. It was subtle, but I knew what she was telling me to do.

“Well, I’m everyone’s favourite.” Jin deadpans and Jimin snorts again, but my eyes automatically go towards the only member that hasn’t spoken yet. Taehyung, in a loose brown button-down and black trousers, stands silently behind the other three, his smooth face betraying only the tiniest of smirks. He’d laughed at my joke - I think, for he’d lowered his head, too, but his long hair had obscured his face entirely. Now, his dark eyes snap from Jin to me in an instant and I hold his gaze for a moment before I look back at Namjoon, who’s now talking about why they’re in the paddock. I try to pay attention, for I really do want to know why, but I’m still hyper aware of Taehyung looking at me. 

Just media training. I force myself to think of them as any other celebrity; the last and only time I’d been this starstruck was when Daniel Craig had come to Silverstone in England and the humiliation of that day is not something I wish to repeat ever again, especially not with BTS.

Thankfully, another member of the Honda team appears next to me and greets them, and without thinking, I look back at Taehyung. This time, he holds my gaze for a couple of moments before turning his attention to the Honda guy. I don’t even try to follow the conversation; I just stand there politely, silently daring Taehyung to look at me again. When I chance it, his face is still smooth and impassive, with that same slight smirk as he listens to the conversation in front of him, almost as though he knows I’m looking at him. At that point, the Honda guy asks a question and Taehyung replies in Japanese, voice surprisingly deep and deadpan as ever, and the other three burst out laughing at whatever he’s said. He simply grins, clearly aware of how funny he is, and flicks his long hair out of his eyes.

At that moment, an arm goes around my shoulder and someone else joins me. “Dude, I think I figured out what’s wrong with the -” Max breaks off abruptly when he looks up, noticing only then apparently that I’m not alone. “Oh, hi, I’m Max,” he says, leaning forward to shake each of their hands. 

As they greet each other, I struggle not to roll my eyes because despite Max’s sub-standard acting, none of this is a coincidence. One day, last year, when Tom Holland had come to the Portuguese Grand Prix and stopped by our garage to talk to me, Max had slithered next to me exactly like this and whisked me away, introducing me to the move. When I’d been most unimpressed, he’d informed me that there was no better way to gauge the interest of a man I’d just met than to see his reaction when another man entered the picture. 

It seemed vaguely prehistoric and sexist, not least because he’d just assumed that I cared at all about a man’s interest on a race weekend, but its results had proven undeniably effective. Tom Holland had slid into my DMs that very night, Harry Styles had retweeted a picture of me and him the day after I’d met him at the French GP with a questionable caption, and Michael B Jordan - Michael B Jordan - had sent flowers straight to my London apartment. Nothing had ever happened with any of them, of course, but their gestures had been enough for me to gain a little extra, if begrudging, respect for Max.

I look up to see if Max’s move today has generated any desired results, only to see Taehyung looking at me again, face completely unreadable. His gaze flickers momentarily to Max before meeting mine again, before he flicks his hair out of his eyes and looks away towards Jimin, jawline sharp. Jackpot.

Meanwhile, Max tugs slightly. “Natalie’s waiting for us,” he tells me, pointing to the blonde journalist next to the garage, and the boys seemingly get the hint. They start saying their goodbyes and I wave back, when Namjoon says, “Hope you have a good time tonight.”

I start to smile and nod, when next to me, Max beats me to it. “Oh, we will,” he says casually, making me want to hit him. But I rein it in to the best of my abilities and simply smile, just needing this awkwardness to be over.

“See you tonight,” says Taehyung, face smooth and impassive.

I stare, for his tone makes it seem like it could be directed at both me and Max, but his eyes are still on me. The other members don’t seem to notice anything strange but I suddenly feel unbelievably grateful for Max Verstappen.

“Yeah. I can’t wait,” I add, waving and taking a step back and Max’s arm drops from around my shoulders. “Good luck.” As we walk away, Max leans down slightly.

“Think it worked?” he mutters.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say automatically. “But… what are they doing here?”

“It’s a Honda and Samsung event this weekend,” he answers, clearly pleased that he knows something I don’t. “That’s what’s wrong with the poster. There’s a Samsung logo in there. Your boyfriends got paddock passes.”

Elbowing him in the side and ignoring his grunt, I glance back one more time, making sure to flip my hair a little and see the band walking away as well - with Taehyung glancing back at me, face unreadable, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur of random PR until we hurry back to the hotel to get ready for the concert. Tokyo is a good three hour drive away but with four F1 drivers in the car, we easily make it in under two and a half. Since Lando and Alex seemingly have no intention of drinking at all tonight, Max, Lily and I relax a bit and decide to have a good time, pre-gaming with a round of shots at a sushi bar close to the venue.

We have good seats; since we’re all VIP (“Lily, I could kiss you.”) and have a balcony to ourselves, we’re allowed to be liberal with seat numbers and, more importantly, are allowed alcohol. Lando, true to form, procures beer from somewhere, placing two six packs under one of the seats and passing cans of some Japanese brand around. About fifteen minutes before the band is announced, by which time fans are already screaming in the thousands and we are buzzed as hell, a bouncer-type comes up to us.

“Komyshan?” All four of my companions point to me as I raise my hand curiously. He hands me a white envelope, shrugging when I ask him what it is before walking away.

As he leaves, I tear it open to find a card in my hand, approximately the size of my phone. There’s a picture of BTS on one side, with the logo and details of today’s concert. On the back is a QR code, followed by the unmistakable words that tell me what it is, despite my disbelief: a backstage pass. For a moment, I’m speechless while Lily groans softly in longing and Alex and Lando frown. “How’d you get that?” Alex asks, looking over my shoulder with ease, six foot frame coming in handy.

I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how they knew for sure that I’d arrived, when I had, and how the bouncer had found me. Fortunately, Max comes to my rescue once more. “She met the band today,” he says nonchalantly. Alex and Lily shrug it away, the latter still eyeing the pass in disappointment, but Lando, who is no stranger to my occasional brushes with male celebrities, raises an eyebrow knowingly.

“Shut up,” I mutter, even as I continue to wonder how and why they’ve singled me out with a pass. As far as I remember, backstage passes aren’t even a thing BTS does very often. In fact, I’m not even wholly sure that it’s from the band. The smallest, most optimistic part of me that’s replayed my brief interaction with Kim Taehyung over and over in my head, feels convinced that it’s he who’s sent it - or at least it’s he that the rest of the band has agreed to send it for. 

But when the band finally comes out and the crowd screams deafeningly, my heart sinks a bit, for there’s no way in hell that I’m the only one that has a backstage pass. Immediately, I feel like slapping myself for reading this deeply into an interaction that had lasted less than three seconds - in fact, if I have to guess, Taehyung doesn’t remember it at all and the only reason they’ve sent it is to be polite, since we met in what can be considered backstage at my place of work.

It’s an incredible experience, though. All seven members have a stage presence of their own, different people stealing the show depending on the song. My eyes keep going only to one member, though. When Taehyung sings, smiles, or does literally anything else, I’m left with nothing to do but admire how exhilarated he seems when he looks at the crowd, how his long and sweaty hair falls into his eyes, how his trademark smirk widens to become the smile that I’m sure will one day kill me. 

They do plenty of crowd work in Japanese - in which, it seems, most of the band is fluent - and the crowd screams and laughs. None of the five of us understand anything except for the bits they say in English, of course, but Max is hopped up on enough liquor to jam to the music while Lando keeps busy streaming what feels like the entire concert, and Lily and I sing along to nearly every song.

At first, the distance to the stage had seemed much smaller. I’d half-expected at least one of the members (Taehyung, Taehyung) to spot me but when they’d come on, it was clear that they were performing to the crowd and not sections of it. The realisation had been mildly disappointing but it also meant that I could enjoy the concert without feeling too conscious, even as I forced myself to remember the people I was here with.

It’s objectively a wonderful concert. At the end of it, Lily and I are still buzzing as we head out with the guys. Just as we reach the door, I stop.

Max turns. “What?”

I don’t answer. The backstage pass feels like it’s burning a hole through my sling bag. I want to go, but this would be the first time in my whole life that I’ve ever entered a party alone. Max seems to know where my thoughts are. “You want to go?”

“I -” 

“Of course she does!” Lily exclaims. When I say nothing, she turns to me incredulously. “You - you do, right? You actually have a backstage pass, Dilara,” she explains to me slowly, as though I’m a toddler. “This chance will literally never come again.”

“But…” I’m suddenly stumped. “What - what do I do backstage? What do people do at parties? Do I - do I mingle?”

Alex and Lando, my fellow introverts, seem to seriously ponder this question. Max just squints at me thoughtfully while Lily half-glares at me. “Yes,” she deadpans.

She’s right, of course. I take out the pass and stare at it, hoping the answer will jump out at me. Finally, I look up. “If I’m not back in fifteen, you guys go on without me.”

Lando's eyebrows rise high up his forehead as Lily beams, but Max is much less subtle. He snickers and nods, telling me in a low voice to go and get lucky. Ignoring him, I take a deep breath and head backstage.

It turns out that "backstage" isn't actually backstage at all; a docent informs me that the backstage party is taking place at the hotel across the street where the band is staying tonight before leaving for their next destination in the morning. When I reach, the party is in full swing. I was right: there are at least a hundred people here, most of them girls, almost all of them with drinks as a Dua Lipa song plays on the speakers.

It's not as dark as I'd expected it to be. In fact, it’s less like the rock and roll afterparties I’d imagined and more of a lounge night, with a nice vibe and what looks like an open bar. The lights are dimmed and the music is blaring, but I spot the band almost the moment I enter. I spot Namjoon with a drink, standing with Jin and Suga as they laugh at something. Next to them is Hoseok, enthusiastically talking to a couple of girls, both of them hanging onto his every word. On the other side, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook bop to the music together, looking effortlessly graceful as they do so.

Now that I've spotted the maknae line, I have no idea what to do. It's far too awkward to walk further into the party while not knowing a soul. Even when I scan the rest of the crowd, I can’t really tell who they are. They definitely aren’t fans; everyone is dressed in designer-wear which makes me wonder if this, too, is a PR-related afterparty. It would certainly explain my presence here. Just as I start to wonder if this is all a terrible idea, from all the way across the room, Taehyung's eyes meet mine.

Before anything else can happen, though, we're blocked by a bunch of people entering the makeshift dance floor. Suddenly feeling uncomfortably alone, I go to the bar and order a beer - anything to not feel this awkward. The feeling doesn't last, though, and when another ten minutes pass and I don't see Taehyung anywhere, I get ready to admit defeat.

I turn around to leave, placing my beer on the bar and calling Max, when I finally see him again. I don't know if he knows that I was just about to leave, but this time he sees me and starts walking straight towards me, squeezing through the crowd of dancing people.

I stay rooted to the spot, my phone at my ear but the ringing sounds more distant by the second. When he reaches me, he places a hand behind me on the bar and leans in to speak into my ear. His long hair brushes my cheek and I catch a whiff of cologne.

"Do you want to go somewhere quiet?" Taehyung asks, sounding like deep velvet.

Finally.

I hesitate for a second and then nod, trying not to seem too eager, and motion for him to lead the way. My phone call is forgotten as I follow him through a side door, a couple of dark corridors and two flights of stairs to what looks like a balcony. I step out onto it, registering the long patch of fake grass and soft and sparkly lighting, to see us overlooking the pool of the hotel. Okay, this is it. 

I can feel Taehyung behind me, albeit a few feet away. I turn around to see him with his hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, surveying his surroundings with a mildly satisfied expression - I can’t tell for sure, because his face is just so goddamn unreadable. His eyes land on me, though, and - I know it sounds ridiculous - but the night suddenly feels warmer.

“I feel like Rapunzel,” I begin, peering over my shoulder at the ground again, not knowing how else to mention my deathly fear of heights. When Taehyung simply tilts his head curiously, I continue. “Rapunzel. She had really long hair, locked up in -”

“No, I know Rapunzel,” he interrupts, looking slightly amused. “Should I rescue you, princess?” he asks seriously, raising his hand to his side in a fist as though holding an invisible sword.

I almost laugh. The Paddock’s Princess was what the media had titled my first feature article when I started in Formula One, a slightly sexist nod to the first girl in the sport. Some fans who couldn’t stand the sight of me on the grid used it with vigour on social media until my fellow drivers started deliberately using it, too, succeeding in eventually turning it into a somewhat casual nickname rather than an insult.

I highly doubt Taehyung knows this. In fact, hearing the name come out of his mouth makes me feel something else entirely. It’s incredible that he’s already eliciting such ridiculous thoughts in my mind; the only saving grace is that I’ve resisted displaying it so far - and it’s only because he seems to know the effect he has on me. “Oh, please, my prince,” I answer dryly, putting a hand to my chest. “Help me?”

Taehyung smirks, like he’s enjoying an inside joke. “Did you enjoy the show?” he asks, voice calm and deep. The Korean lilt in his voice is more pronounced than some of the other members’, based on the few things they’d said on stage and certainly more than Namjoon’s. It makes my toes curl inside my shoes.

“Of course,” I say honestly, leaning back against the railing. “My friends enjoyed it, too.” I say it without thinking but if Taehyung thinks of Max, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh, I know. I saw you dancing.” 

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “You - you did? There were some ten thousand people there.”

“You were in the VIP box. It wasn’t hard.” His smirk is more pronounced now as my face starts to heat up. “You’re a good dancer.”

“Thank you. You’re a good singer.”

That makes him laugh. His smile hits me like a ton of bricks and I know that I absolutely have to see it again, that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. “Show me what you know,” he suggests.

I laugh nervously. “No… no way. My dancing is for my trainer and my studio only.”

“Isn’t there a video of it?”

I stare, having forgotten this rather important detail. “There is, but that was filmed against my will.” I shake my head. “I don’t - I don’t dance in public.” Definitely not in front of an idol who does it professionally.

“You were fine dancing in public during the show,” he points out. If my mortification shows on my face, he doesn’t comment on it. “If you dance, I’ll sing,” he suggests.

It hardly seems fair, so I cross my arms across my chest and raise an eyebrow. In response, he simply sits on the floor on the fake grass, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him, looking up at me expectantly.

“You really want to see me dance to one of your songs?”

He shrugs. “I performed for you,” he points out.

I scoff. “You didn’t perform for me, you performed for the thousands of fans in the audience.” I cringe inwardly the moment I’ve said it, half-expecting a corny line like But I was only looking at one, but all Taehyung does is slowly smirk a bit more, as though daring me to guess what he’s thinking.

"Oh, come on, don't be afraid to get it wrong," he says smoothly. "I'll help you." He says it very casually but I have a feeling he knows what he's doing, because despite how nervous I am, the one thing I can’t let go of as a professional athlete is a challenge.

“I’m not afraid.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because based on his smirk, he knows he’s hit a nerve. “Dance for me, princess,” he says softly, only halfway back in character.

I would normally die rather than say this, for it’s the most filmy line imaginable. But then again, nothing about this night feels real, so I say it before I can stop myself.

“Make me,” I say, meaning it.

Taehyung stares. Then he shrugs and stands up, dusting off his hands as he comes up to stand behind me. My smirk fades when I realise he’s taking me at my word.

“Like this,” he says, turning me slightly so that we step together. He’s just about a head taller than me; the top of my head reaches his jaw and his chest brushes my back. I do my best not to sink into him and try instead to focus on what he’s doing. “And up, step, step, turn…” Taehyung’s hands fall from my shoulders to brush my arms and down to my hands, so casually that I barely notice until the last step when I turn around and he doesn’t. Instead, our arms crossed and fingers still intertwined, he lowers his head and kisses me mid-turn.

Or I kiss him. I’m not sure. But we kiss, and all I can think is Fucking finally and Holy shit, this is what people mean when they say fireworks. One of his hands drops mine and comes up to my face, brushing my hair. It’s a really, really nice kiss, all lips and butterflies and hormones. I start raising my hand, wanting so badly to run it through his hair when his phone rings.

Taehyung pulls away, face scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, dropping my hand and reaching for his phone. “I need to -”

“Go ahead,” I tell him, taking a small step back, feeling somewhat glad that I get a few seconds to process what’s just happened. He nods and touches my arm before stepping away and answering the call. All I can make out is Jungkook’s name amidst all the Korean. If I have to guess, his bandmates are trying to locate him. I remember then that I’d called Max a while back; I whip out my phone and find a message from him.

Did you call me? We’re at a club one block over and I can’t hear a thing. A few minutes after this message, he’d sent another. Oi, Komyshan. You alright? 

I frown, trying to suppress my smile at how perfectly alright I am. I turn around to see Taehyung still on the phone, body tilted towards me but looking away as he speaks to Jungkook. Suddenly, even though he tries to cover it up, I hear my name. It’s the first time he’s said it - Dilara - and with his deep, raspy voice and Korean lilt, it sounds like a song. I make up my mind in an instant and reply to Max. I’m good.

Taehyung’s call ends and he puts his phone back in his pocket before walking up to me slowly. “So… where were we?”

I grin. “You were teaching me how to dance.” Just as he nears me, I take a step back. “Uh-uh. You aren’t going to rescue me from this big, scary tower first?” I ask dramatically, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

He stops in his tracks. For a moment, I’m afraid he thinks I’m a complete lunatic. I know half my friends definitely think that, every time they ask me the time or to pass them a bottle of water, and I respond with a line out of a movie. But before I can step back and hastily apologise, he grabs my wrists in his hands and tugs.

“It’s more fun if I’m the one holding you up here,” he suggests, tilting his head again like he’s asking my permission to change the story. When I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile, he tightens his grip and narrows his eyes. “You can’t escape me, princess.”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay with that,” I murmur, throwing caution to the wind and reaching up to kiss him again. He responds immediately, pulling me even closer as his arms go around my waist, his much taller figure engulfing me as I stumble backwards.

Keeping me close, Taehyung snickers against my lips. “You’re a very easy captive,” he teases, biting my bottom lip and kissing me immediately, swallowing my gasp of surprise.

“I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than you,” I inform him, wrapping my arms around his neck and finally running a hand through his thick hair, returning his kiss. “I could totally get out of this if I wanted to.”

“M-hm?” Taehyung brings a hand up to my face to kiss me deeper and I feel all vestiges of self-control about to leave me. “It’s a good thing you don’t want to, no?” he mutters, backing me into the railing before pulling away. “Still want to be rescued?” he asks cockily, tilting his head towards the drop.

Barely suppressing a smile and feeling my cheeks flushed, I playfully push him in the chest, making him stumble. “I can escape you all by myself,” I remind him, ducking out from under his arm and walking away, my heart skipping a beat when I hear him laugh behind me.

Before long, we end up lying down on the grass next to each other, making out, playing around and just talking for what feels like hours. His grasp on the English language is better than he gives himself credit for; it’s good enough to carry on a conversation, like we’re doing, although he does stop every now and then to recall a word or to ask me for one. I remember how he didn’t speak much at the paddock; does it mean he trusts me a bit more now? It’s strange but I know I do, enough for someone I’ve known for less than half a day, enough that talking to him feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

“You can call me Tae, by the way,” he says after a while, lying down on his back with his shirt unbuttoned and looking up at me. His long hair looks jet black against the bright green grass and, finally giving into my urge, I reach over and brush his bangs out of his eyes from where I’m lying down on my stomach next to him, propped up on my elbows. “Although I like how you say Taehyung, too.”

I bite my lip. “Really? I think I’m getting the accent wrong.”

“Not really. Where’s your accent from? It sounds English, but…” He tilts his head again, squinting slightly.

“Yeah, it’s English, mostly,” I reply, a bit evasively. “I moved to London when I was a kid so my old accent is probably in there somewhere. I think I’ll just call you Tae, though,” I add quickly, hoping to move on. “And you can call me…” I trail off here, because I don’t actually have a shortened version of my name that anyone calls me. “Just Dilara, I guess.”

Taehyung chuckles. “It’s a nice name,” he remarks, playing with the ends of my hair where it’s falling down my shoulder. “Sounds really nice. Dilara.”

I lower my head slightly, feeling my face get hot, suddenly glad I don’t blush. “Thank you. It’s Persian. My mother named me.”

“Is she Persian?”

“Not exactly.” He continues looking at me expectantly, so I give him one more detail. “She’s Asian.” I don’t go any further and I can tell he’s picked up on my deliberate silence. 

“You’re Asian?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” His face is unreadable once again, but I can hear the curiosity behind that one word. I picture him trying to place me, taking into account my name, the beige complexion, my facial features and eliminating East Asian countries immediately. I feel my stomach squirm unpleasantly the longer he watches me and I drop my gaze. His slender fingers have paused, a lock of my hair looped around one of them. “And Komyshan?” he asks after a moment, a bit softer.

I bite my lip. “It’s Ukrainian. My stepfather is Ukrainian and… I took his name when I turned fifteen.” This is as far as I can go, at least with a virtual stranger, no matter how infatuated I am with him. I wonder if he’ll Google me after this; Wikipedia might be able to shed a bit more light but the most intimate details have thankfully remained wholly private. I raise my eyes to look at him again, making my stance clear.

His expression, still mostly unreadable, can only be described as thoughtful. He’s truly beautiful, I acknowledge, momentarily diverted. After a moment, his fingers resume their absent playing with my hair. “Dilara is prettier,” he says in a matter-of-fact way, as though coming to a conclusion.

Once again, the sound of my name from his lips is enough to get my heart to skip a beat. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he chuckles, sitting up and gently pushing me back down, his long hair tickling my face as he kisses me again. I kiss him back, sighing into his mouth as he pulls me gently by the waist and, if I’m not mistaken, silently apologising for prying.

I almost forget that it’s a Thursday night before race weekend; being with Taehyung on this balcony with absolutely no one else feels like something you’d see in a movie. We talk well into the night about anything and everything - his tour, my first year in F1, places we’ve visited, funny things that have happened to us. He’s easily one of the most charming and charismatic men I’ve ever met in my life and I can feel myself falling fast and hard for someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger just earlier today. 

“So tomorrow is when the race weekend actually starts?”

I nod, mouth full, as I pass him the protein bar. We’re sitting facing each other, cross-legged, sharing a protein bar I found in my bag, the only source of food we have up here. There’s a paper napkin between us on which I’ve drawn a rough sketch of the Suzuka circuit from memory, pointing out the difficult corners everyone’s worried about. Tae watched me as I drew and explained, brushing his hair out of his eyes as his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Tomorrow we get two hours of free practice,” I tell him, already looking forward to it. “We get to just take out our cars and get used to the track. Then we have one more hour of free practice on Saturday morning, followed by Qualifying in the afternoon and then the race on Sunday.”

Tae frowns as he chews. His shirt is buttoned up halfway now and all the sexiness he’d put on a little while back has disappeared. “How do you decide who starts first? In the race?”

“Well, that’s what Qualifying’s for. All twenty cars do the fastest lap they can and the slowest five get eliminated. Then the remaining fifteen do their laps again, and the slowest five get eliminated again. Finally the top ten do their laps one last time and based on everyone’s speed in their fastest lap, we decide who gets to start where.”

“Wow.” Taehyung nods. “Sounds stressful.”

It is, but I don’t say it out loud. It’s an unspoken rule in Formula One - in most sports, I would presume: you never let your competitors see you stressed. Ever. In F1, given that there’s just twenty of us who are friends, teammates and competitors all at once, it becomes all the more difficult but even more important.

The jet lag is properly hitting me now and the concert could not have been easy for him. But it’s clear that neither of us wants to leave. He makes me laugh. So much. It’s insane how witty he is and with my momentary flashes of sarcasm and self-deprecation, we end up laughing so much it starts to hurt. But I don’t lose sight of reality. As time passes, I know that we’re getting just that much closer to probably never seeing each other again. 

We’re lying down next to each other on the fake grass while Taehyung absently plays with my fingers, humming something under his breath. It sounds extremely familiar but the drink and the exhaustion is making it impossible to identify and it’s starting to drive me crazy. I think about asking him but that would mean disturbing the moment and nothing right now is worth that.

“How will you get back to your hotel?” he asks after a while. 

“My friends are still here in Tokyo, so I’ll go back with them. Whenever they decide to leave,” I add after a moment. I can feel him stiffen next to me and I guess that he’s looking forward to that just about as much as I am. My chest suddenly feels heavy, like it’s closing up, and when I feel my eyes sting, I realise that I absolutely, so badly don’t want to leave. A small part of me notes how ridiculous this is, how extreme my reaction is at the thought of saying goodbye to what is barely even a one-night stand. 

Taehyung has asked me another question, but I haven’t heard it. He sits up on his elbows and turns to me and I can see him frown at the look on my face, whatever it is. “What’s - what’s wrong?”

“I -” What do I say? No matter how crazy I’m being, there is no way I can tell him what I’m thinking. I open my mouth and close it again. “It’s - it’s nothing.”

It doesn't work. In fact, his face doesn't move at all. "Dilara." There it is again. He says my name and it sounds like a goodbye song.

I try again. "I…" But it's impossible with him watching me so intently. I look away. "I… don't want to leave," I say slowly, hoping it sounds like I just don't want to leave the city, not that I don't want to leave him.

His face remains as unreadable as ever, but I think I see a flicker of relief in his eyes and the deep breath he takes. He's quiet for a moment where I wonder if I've freaked him out. 

"Then don't." He says it in the same matter-of-fact way. I force a chuckle but don’t disagree with him. I look slightly lower; he’s still wearing a bunch of jewellery from the concert. Most of it is pretty blingy, but one of them is a black string with what looks like a guitar pick for a pendant. I want to ask what it is but I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, he’ll hear my voice tremble and then I’ll have to kill myself. So I hook my finger around the string and tug slightly, and he bends his head and kisses me again. 

The next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a phone ringing - mine, this time. I frown and look around; it’s still night, I’m still on the balcony, and Taehyung is still with me. At some point, we’ve fallen asleep, me on my back with one leg bent at the knee with Tae beside me, one arm around my waist, one leg on me, and his head buried in my neck. He stirs as I sit up, looking adorably annoyed as he opens his eyes slowly.

I scramble for my phone to see a call from Max. My eyes dart up to the clock on my phone and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s only one a.m.; it’s not great, but it’s not a disaster either. Of course, it means it’s Friday, or -

“FP,” I whisper, realising that no matter how fast we drive to get back to the hotel, if Max and I aren’t in top form for practice, Christian is going to kill us, or worse, kick us off the team. I answer the call, bracing myself.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Hey, Max,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the sleep in my voice. “I’m, uh, across the street from the concert. Are you - are you guys leaving?” I turn to see Tae, now sitting up and watching me with sleepy eyes, messy hair and something else in his expression I can’t identify. I can’t help but smile and shake my head at him, when his phone rings as well. He looks at the screen and swears in Korean before picking up the call.

“Wait, who is that?” Max’s epic hearing comes into play. “Are you with -”

“Can you just tell me where to meet you?” I interrupt him, the thought suddenly occurring to me that he probably thought I was at a party this whole time. He gives me a location about two minutes away from where I am and hangs up, but not before telling me to hurry the fuck up.

Shit. Free practice. I’m not drunk anymore, but I’m definitely running on a lack of rest. I have no idea how tomorrow is going to play out but I know I need to leave now. I turn around to see Taehyung hanging up the phone as well.

“I have to go,” he says, already buttoning his shirt, before I can say anything. “I’m sorry, but my car is leaving and -”

“Yeah, I know. Me - me, too.” I don’t know what to do now. Neither does he apparently. We stand facing each other for a moment when I hear a ping. I know it’s a message from Max, that we need to leave, that we’re going to fuck everything up for our team tomorrow if we don’t. So before I lose my nerve, I reach up and press one last kiss to Tae’s mouth. 

His hand snaps up to my face and he kisses me back. It takes everything I have to pull away, turn around on the spot and sprint out of there. I take the steps two at a time and run through the halls, hoping that even the slightest dose of the real world will ensure that I don’t cry in front of the guys who will never let me hear the end of it. Mercifully, by the time I’m out of the building, I’m more stressed about finding their car than anything but fortunately, Lando pulls up right in front of me and Max throws open the back door. I jump inside and the moment the door closes, the car zooms forward.

“You alright?” Alex asks from the shotgun seat.

“Yeah, you were gone a while,” comments Lando, his tone betraying all sorts of theories as to why I was possibly gone a while.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I say, reaching for a bottle of water in between their seats and gulping down about half of it. “Just - just tired.” When they all snicker, I just roll my eyes. “Grow up. I was - it was nothing.” Yep, just Kim Taehyung and nothing else. Nothing at all.

“I’m sure “nothing” was sad to see you go,” he smirks into the rearview mirror, catching my eye and making it clear that at least one of his theories is probably confirmed.

“Well, for your information, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, you just get a hickey instead,” says Max, brushing my hair back from my neck. I slap his hand away just as Lily pops her head up from the back row. 

“Oh, leave her alone,” she pipes up, almost giving me a heart attack. “She lived the dream. Believe me, D, you are the luckiest girl in the world,” she slurs, patting my shoulder and promptly passing out.

Drunk as she might be, Lily’s words make me feel a bit better. I don’t believe I’m the luckiest, but the fact is, I did kind of live the dream tonight. Leaving Tae… it was harder than I expected, but if I have to, I’ll take what I can and just hope he doesn’t forget me.

I fall asleep in the car. Deeply, deeply asleep. I’m woken up by an equally exhausted Max and all of us clamber gracelessly out of the car and trudge towards the elevators. It opens to Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s older teammate and resident jock of the paddock, with his trainer Michael inside, both looking sleepy as well.

“Guess we’re all fucked tomorrow, huh,” I comment, rubbing my eyes as we enter, not caring about my smudged mascara. It’s taking everything I have to stay awake - and Max to help me stand upright.

“I can’t believe the traffic,” grumbles Lando, fist bumping Daniel and going to stand next to him.

“Was it just me or were there like ten bellboys in the lobby just now?” Lily mumbles as the elevator starts moving, head on Alex’s shoulder. “Is the President arriving or something?”

“Nah, it’s some celebrity,” says Daniel as my floor arrives. “Some boy band type. That’s why we were down there. I asked for room service like an hour ago…” I tune him out as the elevator door opens and I stumble out, dreaming about my soft bed, when something clicks.

“Wait.” I turn around to see the doors closing. “Wait! What did you say?”

suzuka city

The next morning, I wake up with a mild headache and a desperate thirst. I reach blindly for my phone and realise I’ve woken up before my alarm, an unprecedented turn of events. It’s still nine a.m. though and despite the fact that FP isn’t until after lunch, I force myself out of bed and head straight for the shower, stripping off last night’s clothes on the way. The water is hot and soothing and I end up standing under the shower for a good five minutes, feeling it through my hair before I do anything else.

Last night, despite a revelation from Danny, the only thing I’d managed to do after I entered my room was kick off my shoes, take off my bag and set an alarm before I fell on my bed and passed out. I’d clearly underestimated how exhausted I was, for you’d think that I’d stay up overthinking the obvious, but not only had it seemed far too good to be true, it also made no difference, for Taehyung and I had already said our goodbyes and I’m not sure I can do that again.

But they’re brand ambassadors for Samsung, says a stupid, hopeful voice. Of course it’s them. What are the chances of two K-pop bands roaming around in Suzuka at the same time? But it matters not, for I have not one but two Free Practice sessions to focus on.

I rub a bit of product in my hair and let it air dry as I rummage around in my towel for clothes and make-up. Days without PR are not days where I’m required to wear any make-up but I do anyway, for very few things give me the kind of confidence that perfectly wing-tipped eyeliner does. I don’t have the patience or the will to blowdry my hair today, but I’m satisfied with the natural curls forming so far. 

FP’s not for a while but I want to do a track walk this time - Suzuka is not easy on newcomers. And it’s raining today. So I pack a backpack with an extra Red Bull t-shirt and put on normal clothes, along with a Red Bull hoodie on top and head out of my hotel room, switching on my phone to text Lexie that I’m on my way. Before I can, however, I see a bunch of texts: one from Christian, one from Danny, one from Lily, three from Max and a bunch of Instagram alerts. I open Instagram first to see the announcement: Free Practice Cancelled On Friday Due to Rains. Under that it mentions that there’s only to be one FP tomorrow, along with Qualifying - meaning today is completely free.

My first thought is sleep. I’m in front of the elevator when I open the other messages: Christian’s is purely informative, Danny’s asked if I want to explore the city with him and Mike and Charles, while Max has informed me that there’s a FIFA tournament taking place in the game room and if I’d like to join. I’m just about processing that I can’t test my car today, when the lift doors open and I look up to lock eyes with one Kim Taehyung.

He looks just as surprised as I am. A baseball cap perched backwards on his head, he looks up from his phone just when the doors open and his eyes widen, face breaking into a smile that he immediately struggles to suppress. I notice then that he’s not alone; Jimin, with resplendent vermillion hair, has also looked up and evidently recognised me, for he’s looking at Taehyung with raised eyebrows and a Cheshire cat grin. After a moment’s hesitation, I step in and stand next to Jimin, hyper aware of Tae on his other side.

There’s a moment of knowing silence before Jimin asks him something in Korean. Tae clears his throat and replies, and Jimin immediately turns to me with the prettiest smile in the world and says, “Dilara? I’m Jimin.”

I smile back automatically - I don’t know a single person in the world who couldn’t smile back at Park Jimin. “I - I know. We met yesterday.”

“No, I know.”

Okay. “I’m a big fan,” I reply, shaking his hand. 

“A big fan of BTS or a big fan of Taehyung?” Next to him, Tae elbows him in the ribs and says something exasperatedly in Korean while I try and fail to hide a smile as I look away, basically confirming whatever Jimin is hinting at.

The elevator continues to descend. “So,” begins Jimin again, “what are your plans for today? Driving?”

“Um, no,” I say slowly, “everything’s cancelled, because of the rain, so no driving for me.” I shrug at him and chance a look at Tae next to him, who’s standing with one hand gripping the railing behind him, clearly listening to every word.

“Oh, so you’re completely free today?” Jimin asks transparently, already looking back at Taehyung with a raised eyebrow. I nod in answer and, as they begin speaking in Korean, I feel something brush my fingers. I look down to see Tae stretching his arm behind Jimin and intertwining his fingers with mine. As the elevator doors open, Jimin steps forward but we stay put, unspoken but clear - and Jimin seems to know it, too.

“He’s ditching us for you today,” he tells me in English as he steps out of the elevator and turns back to us.

“I’m sorry," I tell him cheerfully, not sorry at all, as Taehyung inches closer to me, already hurrying Jimin out.

Jimin grins. "You two have fun," he says knowingly as the doors close. I turn to Tae just as he pulls me to him and, slipping an arm around my waist, lowers his head and kisses me.

I kiss him back immediately, one hand going to the back of his head to his long hair. The elevator moves but I have no idea where to, and I don't care. I can't believe Taehyung's actually here, that I'm actually with him again, let alone making out with him in an empty elevator.

Evidently, he feels the same. His kisses are hungrier than last night and he's holding me tighter, as though he's afraid I'll vanish. Despite that, it still has the same playful, sweet, young feel to it. I run a hand down his chest, accidentally nipping his lower lip when I register hard muscle. While he'd been wearing a loose button down last night, today he's in a more form-fitting white t-shirt and jeans and I finally realise why he looked so much bigger in person than on screen. It doesn’t help to be thinking about this while we’re making out, as I find out when I involuntarily sigh into his mouth and immediately feel his jeans move. Given a choice, I'd do him right now.

But I can't. Eventually, before we both have a PR disaster, I reach for the cap on his head and take it off, pulling away and placing it on my own head. Tae pulls away and smiles down at me, shaking his hair out. "Hi."

"Hey yourself."

"Are you really free today?"

"Mhm." I nod, reaching up and kissing him again, the adrenaline pumping at the thought of spending time with him again. "One hundred percent."

"Do you want to..." He frowns, apparently searching for the word. "... explore? Explore the city with me?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Suzuka City? Um, sure… it's pretty public but we can -"

"Not exactly -" He starts to say when the doors open again and this time, Charles Leclerc steps inside. Taehyung and I immediately take a step back from each other but the damage is done.

If it's possible, Charles looks even more mortified than us. "Oh - oh, my God,” he stutters, his French accent sounding thicker than ever. “I am - I am so sorry. I didn't -"

"Charles, it’s - it’s okay," I assure him, foreseeing an I am stupid situation come to life. Both boys look so awkward that I decide to introduce them just to say something. "Tae, this is Charles. Charles, Tae."

Two sinewy forearms meet and shake hands, and they nod at each other briefly. "So, uh, I guess you won't be joining FIFA?" Charles asks, as Tae places his arm behind me on the railing.

"That would be a no." Thankfully, the elevator stops then and Charles steps out. Before he leaves though, I call his name. "Um… it goes without saying…?"

It takes him a moment to catch on but he nods. "Of course. I didn't see a thing." He nods at Taehyung and leaves. I try to believe him; I love Charles Leclerc, bless him, but I also know that he's one of the biggest gossips on the paddock. If anyone gets wind of what's been going on since last night…

I frown. It isn’t something I’ve given much thought to, if I’m being honest. I’d just assumed that both of us had to keep this quiet due to the public forums we were on. Before I can think any further about this, Tae nudges me to him. 

I’ll go anywhere with you. But before this corny spiel threatens to come out of my mouth, I nod. “Let’s do it.” I promise to meet him outside by the lobby in his rental car and get out on the ground floor so that he can get to the parking lot. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less about where we go. Saying goodbye last night had been harder than expected and despite Danny’s big reveal last night, I hadn’t dared to dream that it was BTS that was staying here.

“So?” he asks again. “Do you want to go on a drive with me?”

I stop at the breakfast buffet to grab a couple of croissants before I exit the hotel and it’s only when I see Melissa Nathoo, an F1 reporter, that I realise I’m still in my Red Bull hoodie. She catches me with a cameraman following her, and shoves a recorder at me. “Dilara Komyshan is here this morning, the third driver we’ve spotted so far,” she says enthusiastically into the camera as she falls into step beside me. “Tell me, Dilara, what are your plans on a rare free day on a Formula 1 weekend?”

I rather like Melissa Nathoo overall and the media is not something to be played with, so I wave at the camera before I answer. “It is quite rare,” I agree, “but I don’t know. Not a lot of rain here yet, so I might check out the city?”

“I hear there’s a FIFA tournament going on upstairs in the hotel,” she says. “I know Max, Lando, Alex, George and Carlos are going to be there for sure. Think you’ll make an appearance?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “It sounds fun but I think I’m gonna have to ditch my boys today for - for something else.”

“Girls’ day it is, then,” she says, completely misunderstanding me but I make no effort to correct her. Behind her, I spot a black SUV with Kim Taehyung in the driver’s seat, baseball cap backwards on his head again, pulling into the driveway. He looks so hot, turning the wheel with one hand and surveying the area around him with his smooth, impassive face. He stops the car when he sees me, the slightest smile appearing and making my heart skip a beat.

I say goodbye to Melissa and, aware of the camera following me as I leave, hop into the shotgun seat quickly and slam the door shut. The car is on neutral and immediately moves forward, and we exit the premises.

“Isn’t the city way too public for you?” I ask as I hand him a croissant.

“Oh, thanks. And, yeah, it is. That’s why we’re not going into the city… exactly.” Tae says no more, just looks out the windshield with the same slight smirk on his face as he dares me to ask where.

I don’t take the bait, though. “How’s that croissant working out for you?” When he chuckles with a mouth full of bread, clearly struggling with managing both the wheel and his breakfast, I roll my eyes. “Want me to drive?”

“But you don't know where we’re going.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. I think.”

I give him a look. “Tae, hop out. I’m the professional driver,” I tell him. “Unlike you, I can drive and eat at the same time.”

He gives me a wounded look even as he stops the car. “But… then what do I do?”

“You give me directions,” I suggest. “Oh, and you’re a professional singer - why don’t you sing for me?”

Taehyung snorts and leans his head back against the seat. “I’ve missed you.”

It’s admittedly been eight hours since we’ve seen each other, but I know exactly what he means. My heart gives a jolt when he turns to me, long hair falling into his eyes. I reach over and brush it away before taking off my seatbelt and hopping out, gesturing for him to get out, too. He groans but gets off as well, brushing my waist as he goes around the car, when I see it. Someone, about twenty feet away, squinting at us.

Without further ado, I slide into the car but don’t start it. I’m sure his fanbase is as strong in Japan as anywhere in the world, so it’s no surprise that someone might recognise Taehyung, but now that I think about it, I’ve never seen any of the boys in the media with a girl before. Ever. I sneak a sideways glance at Tae as he straps on his seatbelt, once again with a mouthful of croissant, and wonder if this would bother him. But when he looks back at me and raises his eyebrows, I can’t think of anything to say.

“Um… I should take this off,” I mutter instead, shrugging off the Red Bull hoodie and tossing it into the backseat. “Too recognisable.”

“Yeah, okay. You can wear mine if you get cold,” he offers, gesturing to the backseat. “Now. Ready to go?”

We end up driving outside the city, from what I can tell. The buildings decrease, the crowds of people start thinning out, and the roads become wider. Tae has Google Maps open, but I haven’t the faintest where he’s directing me to. At first I’d thought we were just driving out somewhere, but it turns out he has a specific destination in mind. He refuses to tell me what it is, stating only that he and a few of his group members had been there last year and he thinks I’d like it. I pretend to be annoyed but it only makes him laugh and frankly, I’m more than okay with this arrangement. I love driving, the roads are nice, the weather is beautiful - and I’m with Taehyung on a rare, free day on an F1 weekend.

Despite whatever I’d said about being able to drive and eat together, Taehyung still ends up feeding me bites every couple of minutes, occasionally licking chocolate off his fingers absently. He does end up singing; he starts off by casually humming random melodies, followed by lyrics, some English and some Korean, and while I recognise some of them, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s composing music on the fly. I want to ask, but his voice is the drug I didn’t know I needed and I can’t bring myself to interrupt him. Somewhere during the drive, his hand travels to my knee and rests there, big and warm as he occasionally taps along to whatever he’s singing.

“Tae, are you sure you’re reading the map correctly?” I ask about an hour in. So far he’d been confidently giving me directions, but now he’s peering into his phone, looking concerned.

“I think it’s this way…” he says, sounding rather unsure, looking ahead at a mostly blank expanse of the outskirts of the city. “This place does look familiar…”

I turn to him incredulously. “Every place looks like this place. There’s a town in England that looks like this,” I tell him. “Do you want to ask someone for directions?”

Taehyung looks at me and then looks outside, to see absolutely no one around. “Okay, look, it’s okay. Alright? I remember this place. There was a McDonald’s and then there was… you know, that - that tree.”

I can’t remember being this exasperated and endeared towards anyone in my entire life. “Tae?” I have to consciously resist the urge to add a baby after his name. “Just tell me where it is - or even what it is - and we can take the shortest possible -”

“Found it!” He turns to me, eyes wide and bright. “It’s here,” he says, zooming into the Maps on his phone. “It should be… there!” I look to see him pointing in the distance to a low house with a sloping roof and trees around it. “It’s right there! It should only take us…” He checks his phone and his face falls. “... another twenty-five minutes. Shit, I’m sorry, Dilara.”

But I shake my head. “I do this for a living, remember? I’ll get us there in ten. Seatbelt on.” I step on the gas and zoom. By the time we reach and I bring the car to a halt, Taehyung is plastered to the seat, breathing heavily with his face slightly green. When I hastily put on his hoodie, go over to the other side and open the door, he tumbles out, groaning and breathing heavily.

“Oh, my God.” I try not to laugh as I kneel down next to him where he’s curled up on the paved grass.

“Am I alive?” His voice is muffled. “Is the car still moving? Am I dead?”

“Shut up,” I murmur, brushing grass off his white t-shirt as he continues moaning on the ground. “Tae, you’re okay,” I tell him when he finally turns over on his back and opens his eyes slowly.

“I’m never getting into a car with you again,” he says seriously, which only makes me burst into laughter. He shakes his head and closes his eyes again, long black hair looking darker against the green grass. It suddenly reminds me of last night. I think it does the same for him, because he opens his eyes and doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He tugs on the zipper of my - his - hoodie before finally sitting up and shaking out his hair. He throws on the baseball cap and claps his hands. “Ready?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you?” When he chuckles and nods, I stand up and offer him a hand. He takes it but doesn’t let go, not until we reach the gates and he knocks on it with the metallic clasp. A man appears and, after a brief interaction in what I’m pretty sure is Japanese, Tae ushers me inside and takes me behind the house towards what looks like a large grassy field.

“Where are we -” But he shakes his head and gestures for me to keep moving, with his hand hovering over my back across the expanse of the field. I can hear sounds; they’re soft and high-pitched, immediately reminding me of Angry Birds for some reason. When I look back, the man who’d let us enter hasn’t moved from in front of the house and is instead watching us go. 

I stop in my tracks before a small dip in the ground. The sounds are louder now and all the other silence is making me uneasy. “Tae…” He bumps into me and I feel myself backing into his chest even more. “Where - where are we?”

“Almost there.” His hands close around my shoulders. When I don’t move, he squeezes them and nudges my head with his jaw. “Dilara, come on, I promise you’ll like it.” It’s only the sound of my name in his deep voice that makes me move forward. Come on, I think, you drive tiny cars at ridiculous speeds. You can take whatever’s down there.

I keep repeating it to myself as we continue walking, Taehyung’s hands on my shoulders the entire time. Finally, when the field opens up and I open my eyes - I had no idea they were even shut - to see a field of -

“Puppies!” Taehyung hops out from behind me and throws his arms out, looking thrilled, evidently gesturing to the large backyard full of puppies of all breeds. The moment Tae backs out into the field, they yelp and yip and swarm towards him, eventually tripping him, where he laughs and stays fallen as three different puppies start crawling on top of him.

My heart is still returning to its normal speed after the anxiety of finding out what it’s in the mysterious backyard, but now it’s beginning to expand, feeling so full and so happy because I know - I just know - that if there is one more sure-shot thing that confirms that I’m falling in love with Kim Taehyung, a field full of puppies is it. 

The feeling doesn’t go away the entire afternoon; in fact, if anything, it only intensifies. The serotonin that the puppies provide is incomparable. There have to be at least twenty of them, some bigger than others, all of them thrilled with the entry of two humans they’ve never met before. The owner of the dog farm only appears once after that, briefly, to check if we need anything but apart from that, Tae and I are alone. It doesn’t even matter; I know I could spend hours here, running around with a bunch of puppies and Taehyung, the only person it seems who can actually draw my attention away from them.

I catch him looking at me sometimes; while it’s mostly with laughter and happiness, once in a while, he gets this strange expression on his face, like he’s just noticed that something’s wrong. Every time he sees that I’ve noticed it, however, he shakes his head and smiles, almost like he’s telling me not to worry about it. I try not to - and succeed, for the most part. Most of the time, we’re laughing and cuddling puppies and taking pictures and videos of each other, silently desperate to commemorate today as much as we can.

Hours later, we’ve calmed down, as have the puppies. I’m lying down on the grass, two cocker spaniels curled around each other next to me and leaning their little heads against my waist. I turn my head to the side to see Tae lying back on the grass as well, a labrador falling asleep on his chest, while he strokes its head and hums a song absently. I recognise it instantly; it makes me catch my breath because he’s honestly the last person I would’ve expected to be singing a Francoise Hardy song - but for some reason, right now, it also feels like it makes complete sense.

I’m about to ask when he turns slightly to see me watching him and gives me a small smile, stretching out his arm towards me. I touch his fingers and run my thumb over a ring on his index finger. “Did we really meet at the paddock for the first time only twenty-four hours ago?” I ask softly.

Taehyung chuckles. “Seems crazy, right? I noticed you immediately, though.”

I frown playfully. “Of course you noticed me. You were talking to me - or at least the other guys were. You wanted to look all mysterious and sexy so you didn’t say anything.”

“Aw, come on,” he says, grinning and sitting up on his elbows as the labrador crawls off, “I liked you. You know I did.”

I roll my eyes before looking back up at the sky and closing them. “Define like.”

“Well…” I hear a shuffle and suddenly the sun behind my eyelids disappears and I open my eyes to see Taehyung on top of me, long hair falling on his forehead and into my eyes. “I wanted to do this -” He lowers his head and kisses my cheek “- and this -” He kisses my neck “- and this -” He kisses my lips “- and a whole lot more,” he finishes with a smirk. 

Feeling my face heat up, I wordlessly grab the front of his t-shirt, pull him down and kiss him. One hand goes straight for his hair and the other stays where it is at his chest as I kiss him deeply, never ever wanting this moment to end. Tae lowers himself onto me and kisses me back with the same hunger he’d displayed this morning in the elevator; his hand goes down my waist and up my thigh as I bend my leg, and he feels so steady. I want him so bad. He’s in jeans and I’m in pretty solid leggings, but it doesn’t stop me discovering that he wants me too, at least just as bad.

I bite his lower lip and his grip on my leg tightens - and I swear he growls softly - but before I can be sure, I hear a soft yelp and feel something pushing gently against me. Taehyung pulls away immediately to see one of the puppies standing on its hind legs and using my torso to balance. The sight is so adorable that neither of us can ignore it, and he rolls off me onto my other side, breathing slightly heavily.

I sit up and bring the puppy onto my lap before turning back to Tae, who’s lying back on the ground with one hand covering his eyes. I can’t help but snicker at how disappointed he looks, which makes him look back at me and shake his head, still looking a little pissed. All I can hear Just wait until I get you alone again which, combined with how flustered I am, gets me wondering if we can start it back up again right here, right now.

However, just then the owner appears, saying something in Japanese. Taehyung sits up and replies and I get the gist: it’s time for us to leave. It’s just as well; we’re both hungry and tired so we get up and dust ourselves off - he jokingly messes up my hair as he does so before pulling me back into his chest for a quick hug. As we walk to the car, I wonder how much of the small affectionate gestures he’s even really thinking about. With the quick pecks, the occasional squeezes of the shoulder, I don’t know what worries me more: the fact that they’re seemingly natural or how much I love it.

“What do you want to eat?” Taehyung asks me, in the driver’s seat this time. “Keep in mind it’s just a town so we won’t get anything fancy.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who’s into fancy?”

He shrugs. “You’re in the most expensive sport in the world,” he points out.

I give him a look and reach to pick a blade of grass out of his hair. “Fair enough. But I’m hungry and I know we can’t be seen, so I’m good with anything.”

The drive into town is quieter. Tae drives a little slower than I’m used to but it means longer with him, which I’m good with. We switch on the radio this time and a Post Malone song starts from the middle and Tae immediately starts singing along, his deep voice a whole octave lower than Malone’s. I roll down the window and look out, letting the wind blow through my bangs and closing my eyes. I look around after a few minutes to see Taehyung with one hand on the steering wheel and the other pointing his phone at me.

“Tae!” I exclaim, swatting the phone out of his hand as he laughs and swipes it out of my reach. “Eyes on the road!”

Another song starts and this time I recognise it immediately. I look over to Tae to see him smile automatically as Jimin’s voice comes floating out of the stereo. “Can I just say that this is one of my favourite BTS songs ever?” I tell him and his smile gets wider as his part comes and he starts singing along. Just then my phone pings; I open it to see a message from Vicki.

Grill the grid taping at 4:30 with AT guys. Need you in at 4 for HMU and micing.

I stare, my heart sinking. It had been so easy to forget that, technically, this is a working weekend for me. I briefly consider asking Vicki if I really need hair and make-up done, given that Max is probably going to show up looking like he’s just left the gym and Jehan I know for a fact has not shaved in at least a week. I’m wondering how I can word it without sounding like I’m complaining, when Tae notices my expression.

“Everything okay?” 

I sigh. “Yeah, I just… I have a PR thing to do today so I have to be back by four. Which gives us…” I look at the clock on my phone, “... a little over four hours.”

Taehyung nods. “That’s not too bad.” After a moment, he turns back to me. “How important is PR again?”

I chuckle. “Well, it’s part of my contract so I’d say it’s pretty -” But I’m cut off by a jerk. The car jolts and revs momentarily, before going still. “What was that?”

He shakes his head, hands hovering over the steering wheel. “I - I don’t know. I think we hit something -” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out, and I do the same. At the front of the car, I see a huge stone that’s stopped the car and is preventing it from moving. 

“Damn it. We need to change the tyre.” I turn to Tae. “Do you know how to do that?”

His eyes widen. “Me? Aren’t you the professional?”

“I’m a professional driver,” I clarify. “But I don’t… I’ve never changed a tyre,” I admit, a bit sheepishly. When Tae simply shrugs, I realise we’re essentially stranded. I look around the fairly deserted town area. “Do you think we can find anyone to help us? You speak Japanese, right?” I look back to see him typing something on his phone. “Calling us a cab?”

He shakes his head. “Too risky. I can get the car towed back but to pick us up…” He dials a number and puts it on speaker, holding it between us. I hear what I think is Namjoon’s voice, but the conversation takes place fully in Korean. I hear other voices in the background which I presume is the rest of the band. At one point, he asks Taehyung a question and Tae, after a brief glance up at me, says my name in the midst of a long sentence. In the background, the rest of the boys hoot and Tae shakes his head, fighting a smile. The conversation ends after a few minutes.

“Okay, so Namjoon hyung is coming to pick us up,” he informs me, putting his phone back in his pocket. “We just need to get out of this district - it’ll take ages for him to navigate his way through the dirt roads.” He flashes me a heartbreaking smile. “Ready?”

The towing company arrives - surprisingly quickly - and arranges to take the car back to the hotel. I just about retrieve my bag before Tae pulls me back by the arm out of the way so that the giant tow truck can get the car off the ground. Once the car is gone, we start walking.

Even though it’s not really a surprise by this point, it’s amazing how quickly time seems to pass when I’m with Taehyung. The weather is cool and breezy and the town fairly empty, making it unnecessary to keep our distance too much. We still don’t engage in PDA per se, for it isn’t desolate, but walking together, laughing, and taking pictures and videos of each other doing silly things become so easy, almost natural. It’s the first time in a long while that I haven’t had to worry about photographers, something that’s definitely amplified with Tae, and we get to spend a rare day in privacy.

Taehyung takes so many pictures of everything. He doesn’t have a professional camera with him, something he laments more than once, but his phone seems more than enough as he constantly documents everything, finding even the most mundane object and getting a beautiful shot of it. Even when we’re walking through a canopy of trees and brambles and I’m piggybacking on his back, he has his front camera on and before I know it, snaps a picture.

“The sun’s glare is too strong,” I tell him after a while. I’m lying on my back on the ground where I’d bent down to take a picture of a ladybug. Taehyung is standing over me, hands in the pockets of his jeans, laughing as I point my phone up at him. I think he thinks I’m taking a picture but this moment is too adorable to not record. A few light rays of sun poke out from through the grey clouds behind Taehyung’s head, his dark hair thick and long; he looks like an angel.

“Alright, come on, you’re going to screw up your back,” he says after a while, bending and pulling me up by the hand in one swift movement. I feel a pit of butterflies in my stomach when he pulls me in and casually puts his arm around my shoulders as we continue walking and I show him the video, promising to send it to him.

We finally get to the outskirts of the town where Namjoon is supposed to pick us up. I sit on the pavement and sweep my hair off my neck as Taehyung walks in random circles on the road.

“So, hang on,” says Tae, kicking a stone and watching it roll away. “You’re half-British, right?”

“No, my father was Asian, too. My biological father,” I clarify, automatically clamping up at the topic. “So I’m not really part anything. I don’t know, my mum doesn’t really talk about him.”

“But you grew up in London?”

“Partly. We moved there when I was pretty young,” I say evasively, not wanting to get into how she was essentially kicked out for having a child out of wedlock. “Maybe when I was like eight or nine, and she met Rudy a few months later.”

“Your stepfather?” When I nod, he frowns. “But… what happened to your - your real father?”

I bite my lip. I don’t usually give out details of my family, especially my father. I’ve moved on from it but it’s not exactly a thing about my past that I want the public to know. I look away from Taehyung for a moment, who’s waiting patiently, thinking about how much I want to tell him. 

“He, uh…” I wonder why he wants to know. “... he left when my mom got pregnant. Wasn’t ready for parenthood, I guess.” I’m reasonably relieved at how nonchalant I sound. But I can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into me and the last thing I want to see there is any kind of pity - seriously, it would make me livid if I saw even a hint of it - so in an effort to get far away from this topic, I take a deep breath and lean back on my hands. “How long until Namjoon gets here?”

Tae frowns at the abrupt change of topic but doesn’t comment on it. “Well, it took us over an hour to get here so I guess, around the same?”

I sigh and look away, still a bit put off at talking about my father. I can feel Taehyung watching me and I think he knows what’s bothering me. Either way, he doesn’t prolong it. Instead, after a few seconds, I hear a sound come out of his phone which turns again into Tu les garçons et les filles by Francoise Hardy. I look up in surprise to see Tae holding his phone up with a questioning smile on his face, as if asking me if this is okay. 

“I can’t beIieve you know this song,” I comment, unable to stop a surprised chuckle.

His smile widens, obviously relieved at my reaction. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop listening to this song,” he says, walking forward and holding out a hand for me to take. “It makes everyone feel better.” As if to test this theory, he pulls me up when I give him my hand, smiling down at me like the sun. “Now... “ He lets go of my hand and turns around on the spot, looking back at me with an exaggerated sexy look. “... we dance.”

Taehyung dancing on stage or in music videos is addictive. He’s so sexy and so talented that I could watch him and nothing else all day. It turns out, though, that when there’s no one watching and no obligations, Kim Taehyung grooves and bops to music like any other person. I laugh but can’t help but join in with him, dancing along to what is truly a very nice song. He looks so happy that I’ve joined in that it makes it all worth it. Somewhere during the song, he grabs my hand and twirls me into his arms, and we sway to an indie French song on a deserted dirt road in Japan.

“You have a really nice smile, you know?” he tells me, touching my cheek with his finger. “I have a thing for dimples.”

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks but I keep looking back at him. He looks angelic; I try to memorize everything - his hair, his smile, his cheekbones, his lips, his jaw, how his hand is firm on my lower back, how his other hand is gripping mine with his slender fingers - before I shake my head and tilt it. “Flirt.”

“Guilty. What does the rest of your day look like?”

“Well, if we ever get back to the hotel, I have about an hour of PR,” I tell him. “Then I have a drivers’ briefing - although since we haven’t even driven around the circuit yet I’m sure it’ll get moved to tomorrow afternoon. After that… after that, I’m free, I guess.” My gaze involuntarily falls to his mouth and I immediately raise it to look back at him, feeling my face heat up.

Tae simply nods, but I just know where his mind’s at, especially with the small smirk appearing on his face. He spins me around once but I don’t make much effort to hide my smile because I’m so sure that I know where his mind’s at, that the moment this morning in the elevator was something we hadn’t seen last night, that the interruption at the dog farm was only momentary. 

After that, both of us seemingly silently agree that we need to keep some distance between us, at least until we get back to the hotel. We share a can of Diet Coke that I find in my bag but it’s practically warm so after I empty it on the side of the road, we end up playing a makeshift game of football with the can.

I’m a pretty good racecar driver, but I suck at pretty much any other sport, apart from swimming maybe. As per his own admission, Taehyung is good at tennis - and anything requiring hand-eye coordination, really - but here, on a dirt road with a can for a football, we’re both abysmal. 

It’s so fun, though. We completely forget that we’re hungry and stranded; even kicking around an empty soda can be amazing if Tae’s around, apparently. I’ve always known that he’s extremely good-looking but seeing him like this, happy and care-free, flicking his long hair out of his eyes, tall and lithe - he’s otherworldly. I feel like I could watch him forever. I know I’m not a troll, but I find myself wondering more than once what exactly he seehs in me.

“Okay, okay, it’s happening, I’m doing it!” I kick the stupid can, dribbling it around Tae to get to our makeshift goal. I hear him groan and then feel him grab me from behind, stopping me from going any further. “Hey, that’s cheating!” I exclaim over his laughter, secretly loving the feeling of his arms around me.

He does, too, clearly, for he doesn’t let me go even after I’ve stopped struggling. I look up at him, about to say something, when I hear a shout. Both our heads snap forward to see a black SUV with the Hilton logo on it driving up the hairpin, with someone’s hand appearing out of the passenger window. Whoever it is shouts again, waving, and while I can’t make it out, Taehyung does immediately. He straightens up and his hands come up to my shoulder.

“Jungkook is here,” he says, only the slightest bit of surprise in his voice. “Must have pestered Namjoon to let him come along.” His hands fall from my shoulder and he goes back to sit on the pavement, leaning back on his hands, apparently satisfied that his friends are finally here.

“Oh. Great,” I say, sitting down next to him, his hoodie and my bag in hand. By the tone of his voice, it’s pretty clear that the reason Jungkook has insisted on coming along is because of me. We watch the car approach; when they’re about thirty feet away, I can see Namjoon driving and Jungkook in the driver’s seat, the latter grinning far too widely.

Looking at it, I can feel my nerves beginning to act up. “So, um… what happens if Jungkook doesn’t like me?” I ask, cringing when I hear the nervousness in my own voice.

“Then we’re done,” says Tae casually, before catching sight of my expression. “I’m kidding. Jungkook likes everyone. And you’re not that bad,” he adds generously. “Don’t worry, he’s the nicest out of all of us.”

“I’ve heard. That’s why he’s my favourite one,” I add innocently. 

“You said the same thing about Jimin this morning.”

“Depends on my mood. For example, last night I was in a very different mood.”

“Sexy and mysterious?”

“More like curious and horny.”

Taehyung chokes, I look back ahead, chuckling. He mutters something under his breath as his arm goes around my shoulder and he kisses the side of my head casually, naturally. My heart skips a beat and I think I see Jungkook raise his eyebrows in surprise as the car approaches and stops a few feet away from us.

Here we go, I think warily, standing up as Namjoon and Jungkook step out of the car. Namjoon waves at me as he walks over but Jungkook gets to me first, holding out a hand. “Dilara! Finally! It’s so nice to meet you - I’ve heard a lot about you,” he adds, looking over at Taehyung, who’s rolling his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say absently, because Jeon Jungkook is even better looking in person than he is on screen. He flashes me a smile and I almost forget to breathe for a moment, but then he looks at Tae and laughs at something, nose scrunching up, and he suddenly reminds me of the puppies we’d been hanging out with an hour ago. 

Namjoon appears then and greets me with a nod and a smile, looking very tall and leader-like. His politeness is distinct, like he’s had a ton of practice at it. He asks me with a well-placed chuckle how we managed to get ourselves stranded in the middle of nowhere in the outskirts of Suzuka City. I start telling him that all Tae had to do was let me drive, but we get distracted by Jungkook running after him and leaping on his back. Taehyung catches him effortlessly and they begin laughing and joking around, too far for me to understand what they’re saying.

“Are they -” I start to ask but Namjoon beats me to it.

“Always,” he says knowingly. We all pile into the car after that, once Jungkook discovers that neither of us have eaten anything except a croissant hours ago. Namjoon gets into the drivers’ seat and, thankfully, Taehyung and Jungkook slide into the backseat, leaving the shotgun seat for me. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of sitting in the backseat alone with Tae while both his friends shot us side-eye glances trying to observe us. This way, those two have their fun giggling in the backseat while I’m up front with the most intimidating member of the band so far. 

We stop at the first fast food place we see, which ends up being a KFC. Once the three guys put on a variety of hats and hoodies, all four of us shuffle in and dive for the menu; when I realise that everything is written in Japanese, I have to rely on the boys to translate and order for me. Taehyung stands behind me at the counter, hands resting comfortably on my shoulders as he peers at the plastic menu over my head. I’m looking up at him and frowning, trying to decide whether to go for chicken or pork, when we’re interrupted by Namjoon who offers to order for all of us.

The food arrives almost immediately but when we look around and see the few other customers squinting slightly at the boys, almost as if they recognise them, we opt to head out and eat by the car. I walk with Namjoon; I discover pretty quickly that as much as my heart belongs to Taehyung, Namjoon is clearly the most interesting member. There’s something so mature, so intelligent, so attractive about him that I immediately feel like I should have been more prepared before meeting him.

It’s also clear that he knows his group members extremely well. The entire time as we walk back to the car, while he’s speaking to me, he’s also keeping a clear eye out on Taehyung as he talks with Jungkook. Even as we sit around the car and devour the food, I feel increasingly like I’m being vetted for the honour of being Taehyung’s… whatever I am. That throws me into a bit of a tangent as my mind instantly starts wondering what I am to him, what he is to me, what we’re doing, what we’re planning to do -

“You want to throw that away?” 

My head snaps up to see Taehyung to my left, two empty boxes and a cup of Coke in his hands. He points with the cup to the wrapper in my hand and tilts his head towards the trash can at the door of the restaurant. I take the hint and jump to my feet, so, so relieved at his arrival, and offer to take Namjoon’s wrappers with me as well. 

“So?” Tae asks as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Are they being nice to you?”

I scoff. “Of course they’re being nice. And Namjoon…” I glance back surreptitiously, “... God, he’s so cool. It’s like he knows everything about everything.” I look up to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow, looking amused.

“Should I be worried? Am I going to lose you to my fearless leader?” he asks dryly, just as we reach the trash. “Because I can take him. Probably.”

“Probably.”

Taehyung chuckles and, lightning fast, leans over and presses a quick kiss to my lips. Before I can react, he gestures for me to continue walking, smiling down at me as if nothing just happened, brushing a hand down my waist comfortingly as we start walking back. “They like you, too. At least Jungkook does. And I’m guessing Jimin, too, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have tagged along today.”

“Ah, good. My favourite and my second favourite,” I say, laughing when Tae scowls. We get into the car again, everyone in the same seats, and it’s barely a five minute drive when Jungkook states that he feels like dessert - and not just any dessert, but a specific Japanese sweet that they’d had the last time they were here. Both Namjoon and Taehyung agree immediately and we drive around looking for any passing store that might sell it.

When we finally do, Taehyung volunteers to get out and go buy them while the rest of us stay in the car. He takes our order (I decline since it’s a race weekend) and walks away towards the shop. I watch him - I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop - as he walks away, how he walks with his hands in his pockets, how his long hair brushes his t-shirt at the nape of his neck, how when he turns his head slightly to look for oncoming cars, his haughty features looking like a statue’s.

“He likes you,” says Namjoon from right next to me, almost scaring the shit out of me. I turn to him to see him looking back at me with a peculiar expression, part-knowing, part… approving? Before I can examine it deeper, Jungkook speaks from behind me.

“He really likes you,” he contributes, leaning forward so that his head appears in between our seats. “He usually never makes any effort with girls. Definitely doesn’t ditch us to hang out with one. I mean, you guys are even wearing matching outfits.”

I notice then that we are, kind of; white top and black bottoms, but I ignore this statement in favour of the one before. His words are practically identical to what Jimin had said to me earlier today. Like Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t sound miffed at all; on the contrary, he sounds almost wondrous, as though this series of events had never occurred to him. I can feel my palms getting clammy and the heat rushing to my face, so all I can say is, “Oh, did you - did you guys have - have plans today?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” says Namjoon dismissively, almost like he knows what I’m thinking. “It’s just good to see him like this. Happy,” he adds for my benefit, raising his eyebrows at Taehyung who’s now started walking back with a small stack of boxes the size of my phone.

Jungkook says something to Namjoon in Korean but I lose track. As I watch Tae walk towards us, I struggle for a moment to pinpoint why Namjoon and Jungkook’s words have suddenly made my insides tight. I should be happy, I suppose. I should, knowing that Taehyung likes me so much, that his closest friends in the world have noticed and more or less approved. But all that is overshadowed by the burning question of why? Why does he like me so much when we’ve only just met, when it’s been an unspoken cloud hanging over us reminding us that this weekend is all we have?

As he approaches, our gazes meet - and his eyes light up. It’s subtle, but it’s there and I know it is because even Jungkook behind me whispers wow before asking me if I’m sure that I don’t want one of the sweets. “Um… no, I - I prefer cupcakes,” is all I can manage to say before looking away from Tae. By the time he climbs into the backseat, I’m almost angry at him for making this so much harder.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Tae holding out an open box filled with what look like Reese’s peanut butter cups. His eyebrows are raised and the hand he’d tapped me with is still lingering against my bare arm, but I suddenly find it hard to look at him. So I shake my head and turn back to look ahead.

As we continue to drive, I find that I can’t look at anyone in the car; not at Taehyung who apparently likes me way more than he should, not Namjoon who seems to know way more than he should, and not Jungkook who definitely seems way more excited than he should be. Truth be told, I haven’t the faintest idea what to do with this information and I definitely have no idea what it is that Namjoon and Jungkook were trying to achieve by telling me. So I just stare out the window at the sky, the trees, road signs - anything to distract me.

“Dilara?” Taehyung saying my name sounds like a song again, like his favourite song in the world. “Any requests?”

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking about the music in the car. “Um…” I turn slightly in the direction of the backseat and shake my head for a moment before looking back out the window. “Not really. Anything’s fine.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence where I can practically feel Taehyung’s confusion at my change in tone. He says something in Korean to the other two, almost accusingly, and while I don’t understand a word of the language, I imagine he’s going What did you two say to her? or something to that effect. I can’t really blame him because, let’s face it, had I been in a similar situation, that’s exactly what I would’ve asked. 

My theory is more or less confirmed when, after both mumble answers in equally confused tones, Namjoon looks over at me, asking, “You alright?”

I look back, not wanting to seem rude, and nod. “Yeah. Of course.” I force a smile but I don’t think anyone is fooled. It’s almost too convenient when just a few minutes later, we make our last stop of the drive at a gas station. I mention something about using the washroom and jump out of the car, breathing in the fresh air like my life depends on it.

All I really do, though, is head over the back of the station and lean back against a wall, wondering what the hell to do now and how I can manage to avoid Taehyung for the rest of the weekend when we literally live in the same hotel -

“Hey.”

My heart skips a beat when I see Tae walking towards me, hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, face as smooth and impassive as ever. I immediately turn towards the wash basin next to me and start washing my hands, letting my hair fall in front of my shoulders and shield my face. “Hey,” I say after a moment, cringing at how fake even the simplest word sounds.

He stops a few feet away from me. “So, uh. My friends told me what they said to you. That I like you." He doesn't stutter around the inadvertent confession. "And that they might have freaked you out.” He says no more, just waiting for me to confirm it.

I swallow, wiping my hands on my leggings and still not looking at him. “Not exactly.”

“Then what is it? Dilara,” he says when I don’t respond. I finally sigh and look him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty at shutting him out. He looks at me expectantly, perfect features betraying only the slightest bit of concern. “Tell me.”

I bite my lip and look at the ground, wondering how to word this without making it a bigger deal than it is. “You know we can’t… you know that nothing else can happen, right?”

“I know.” His response is immediate, accompanied by a small shrug, confirming that he does indeed know that nothing else can happen. And why shouldn’t he? With my calendar, his job, and both our careers in front of us, of course he knows that nothing can happen.

“Then… why do you like me so much?”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t change much, except for a small frown. Hands still in his pockets, he shrugs again. “Since when can anyone control how they feel?” He says it like the most obvious thing in the world and all of a sudden, I feel ridiculous. The affection and adoration in his eyes is clear even to me and I can’t believe I’ve just spent the last thirty minutes essentially icing him out, especially when I know we don’t have much time.

“Not me,” I admit quietly, looking at the ground and then back up at him.

His mouth moves just a bit, giving me a small smile. “Look, I know it’s scary and it’ll be… hard, when it finally happens.” Neither of us needs to elaborate on what ‘it’ is. “But today’s not goodbye. We’ll - we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, alright?”

I look away and nod, taking a couple of steps towards him. He meets me halfway and raises one hand to brush my arm comfortingly as his gaze drops to my mouth and back up to me, as though asking for permission. He lowers his head slightly and pauses, waiting for me to confirm that it’s all good. I get on the tips of my toes and kiss him, feeling him kiss me back immediately. It’s a nice, comforting kiss. For about a second.

He moves his hand to my waist just to steady me but it’s right at that moment that I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slips in and I moan softly, making his grip on my waist tighten. All it takes is one look between us before Taehyung has me pinned against the wall, kissing me fiercely and holding me flush against him. My hands go into his long hair and I pull at it, and Tae bites my lower lip. I snake one hand down between us and loop one finger in his belt loop and tug, feeling his pelvis against mine. His erection rubs against my core and I sigh, ready for him to fuck me right here and now. Taehyung’s hand slips down my waist, down my hip and to my arse when -

“Oi! We’re in public!” Namjoon’s furious whisper makes us jerk apart immediately and look around to see if we’ve been spotted. Fortunately, there isn’t anyone around but even I can’t believe how risky that was. That’s hot. Yes, it is, especially when I look up at Tae to see him looking right back at me, panting slightly, lips swollen and eyebrows together, looking pissed that we were caught. 

We trail quietly behind Namjoon to the car and get into our seats. While Namjoon looks exasperated as hell, Jungkook can't look either of us in the eye. My face feels so hot that I can’t look at either of them. I can’t look at Taehyung either, but that’s for a whole different reason. As we drive back with nothing but the radio providing any sound, I look out the window, trying not to think about what just transpired and what is sure to be replicated later today.

I count myself lucky; technically, I can think about whatever I want with no one the wiser. Taehyung on the other hand, can’t think of shit without an erection appearing for his friends and the world to see. I can hear Jungkook murmuring in Korean and Tae responding with short, abrupt replies. Our eyes meet in the wing mirror constantly, both of us now knowing what we want and how soon we want it.

It’s a quarter to four by the time we reach the hotel. If I have any hope of making it to PR on time, I have to leave now. I hop out of the car after Namjoon parks and fluff my hair out, checking for my bag and phone before I head out.

“Hey,” says Taehyung, coming up behind me. I turn to see the other two waiting by the car, trying to pretend like they aren’t paying any attention to us. Evidently, Tae’s noticed them too, for he glances back at them before turning back to me. “Do you have to leave now?”

“Yeah. Thankfully it’s happening here at the hotel, so we don’t have to drive to the paddock.” I bite my lip and say no more. This is the awkward part. How do two people who aren’t dating, who’ve literally just met, who aren’t even friends, say goodbye to each other? 

“So, I’ll, uh…”

Taehyung nods, taking my hand and linking his fingers with mine. “Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he agrees. I have the strongest urge to brush his long, thick hair out of his eyes, but I’m afraid it’ll be too intimate here. Taehyung sneaks another look back at his friends, who are now not even pretending to give us privacy, before rolling his eyes and quickly kissing me on the cheek.

I try to fight a smile as I shake my head and leave. I rush to the poolside after that where our thing is supposed to be taking place. Jenna from the PR team is waiting for me at a small makeshift energy station with a transparent pouch filled with make-up products and a hair straightener, heated and ready to go. 

Max arrives halfway in and Vicki briefs us both about the game while Max sips on water out of a Red Bull can and I sit painfully straight as locks of my hair fall in soft waves down my shoulders. Jehan and Pierre arrive soon after, everyone in their team hoodies. Jenna is holding up a mirror while I apply a nice brick shade of lipstick when Vicki suddenly exclaims that I’m not in Red Bull gear.

It seems to have occurred to everyone only now, five minutes before the interview. I’m still in a plain white top; I’m about to mention that I probably have an extra team t-shirt in my bag when Max tosses me his hoodie, saying with a very Max smugness that he’s not feeling cold at all. I give him a look but put the hoodie on anyway, kind of liking how nice and oversized it is.

All four of us are seated around a small poolside table, chatting as the production team sets lights and mics around us. I go onto my phone for a moment, secretly hoping for a text from Taehyung. There isn’t one, which is to be expected, so in a rare moment of initiative I text him. I send him the video I’d taken of him earlier today from the ground along with the message Thanks for today, I had a great time.

He replies almost immediately with Day’s not over ;), along with a picture. I download it and need to bite down on my lip from smiling. It’s a picture of me at the dog farm with the puppies: I’m lying on the grass upside down, two labradors clambering onto me, with my hair all dark and wavy on the grass, smiling with genuine happiness and cuddling a third puppy as I look into the camera - as I look at Taehyung.

I’m about to respond with a quick ‘thanks’ but instead, he sends a second picture, then a third, and then about ten more, all of us today with the puppies, strolling the streets together, piggybacking down the canopy. There’s one of us that he sends at the end, a few moments after the others, of us walking together. It’s obviously taken by someone else - most likely Jungkook; I realise it’s from when we’d both volunteered to chuck everyone’s trash after lunch. We’re just walking back, looking at each other, with Tae’s hand disappearing behind me.

I zoom in. I hadn’t even noticed that his hand had been on my back; in fact, it doesn’t even seem as though he’s conscious of it. It looks so natural; even the fact that we are indeed wearing very similar clothes doesn’t escape me this time. We’re walking close together - very close. I remember feeling his chest brush against my arm, feeling his fingers linger on my elbow - but I hadn’t thought about how it would look. We look like a -

“Alright, everyone ready?” 

PR forces me to abandon my train of thought and focus. It takes us about an hour and a half; it’s fun, no doubt. All four of us get along pretty well and the games include a Q&A type and a taste test of Japanese cuisine. By the end of it, after it’s confirmed that there’s no drivers’ briefing today, we start to head back into the hotel. I check my phone (not eagerly) to see a message from Taehyung. Ignoring the leap in my chest, I open it.

Once you’re done, come over to 2006.

two hotel rooms

I halt. Now I have no way of knowing who lives in 2006; for all I know, it’s just Taehyung’s room and he’s calling me over for tons of passionate sex after a day of teasing and yearning. If that’s what it is, I’m on board. 

But there’s something about the text that makes me think that that’s not all that it is. I try to figure it out; after a couple of minutes, I decide it’s not flirty enough. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered about Kim Taehyung in the last twenty-four hours, it’s that he’s smooth as shit. If he were inviting me over to fuck, I have no doubt that I’d be dripping by the time I got to his door. 

I have to ask. But not too pointedly. My fingers hover over the screen as I chew at my lower lip before finally typing out a response. What’s in 2006?

Taehyung replies in under a minute. Food and stuff. 

I frown, having learnt nothing from this incredibly vague text. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s being vague on purpose. I replay the events of today in my head, specifically the moments I spent with Jimin, Namjoon and Jungkook. I remember them looking at me like a specimen they never saw coming, but I also remember the huge, boxy smile on Tae’s face each time I joked with any of them. 

I exhale. Spending a Friday evening hanging out with members of BTS: it’s a goddamn dream - for some. I know of millions of people around the world who’d literally murder me to take my place. But nothing about it is exciting me; in fact, I think this is the most stressed I've been all weekend.

I briefly consider making an excuse. Tomorrow is Qualifying after all; I can sneak away to hang out with the other drivers while they obsess over FIFA, dull as it sounds. But I do want to see Taehyung again, so badly. I finally make my way up to the twentieth floor, the entire time debating the possible outcomes of this situation in my head, before I reach the room. I can hear muffled noises from inside, both music and voices. I find I can’t physically press the doorbell, so I text Tae instead.

I’m outside. Can you come out here for a second?

Ten seconds later, the door opens and Taehyung steps out, still in the same white t-shirt and jeans, black hair thick and long, looking so incredible that I have to consciously try not to launch myself at him. His face automatically breaks into a smile at the sight of me and my heart skips a beat.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and stopping a couple of feet in front of me. “Everything okay? Oh, hey, your hair is different,” he comments, taking a straightened lock in between his fingers.

“Yeah, for PR. Um…” I take a deep breath, folding my arms across my chest nervously. “Who else is in there?”

Taehyung glances back at the room and when he turns back to me, it’s clear that he’s immediately caught on to what’s bothering me. “It’s six of my friends.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Really. Exactly six?” 

He smiles, knowing I’m not fooled. “It’ll be fine. They’re looking forward to meeting you,” he says, dropping all pretense.

That doesn’t make me feel better at all. My face must show this, for he immediately comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulder. “Dilara, there’s no pressure. You don’t have to. But…” He shrugs. “It’ll be fun.” When I don’t respond, he squeezes my shoulders gently. “Come on, you’ve already met most of them and it’s been fine. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” I say honestly. The only ones I actually haven’t met at all have been Hoseok and Yoongi, but meeting all of them together? But I can’t say no to Tae, not when he looks this hopeful. “Just… just six friends, right?”

“Right. Oh, wait, Jimin and Jungkook are at the gym, so it’s really only four,” he adds helpfully.

I frown incredulously. “Jungkook is the one person I actually know in there.”

Taehyung bites his lip and holds his arms out wordlessly. I take the hint and step in, wrapping my arms around his waist as he hugs me back, head resting against mine and rubbing my shoulder with one hand. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he says softly.

I say nothing, revelling instead in his scent and the feel of his lean torso and strong arms around me. This is our first hug, I realise, and I hold him a bit tighter, resting my forehead on his shoulder. “You’ll be there the whole time?” I murmur into his t-shirt.

I can feel him smile as he nods. “The whole time,” he confirms. “Until we leave, that is. Which will be… early?" he guesses.

That makes me laugh. I step back and ruffle his hair affectionately. “Sure. As long as you stay by my side.” I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. “Let’s do this.”

Tae rolls his eyes at my theatrics but I see him smile again and it’s all worth it. He rings the doorbell and Namjoon opens it, immediately noticing me and greeting me loudly. “Oh, hey. Hey, Dilara’s here,” he calls out, beckoning me inside and shutting the door behind me. “There’s food and… well, tons of gummy bears on the table,” he adds, pointing at the coffee table.

I step in to see Seokjin on the phone in the corner of the room, Yoongi and Hoseok in front of the television, the latter laughing his head off at something before noticing me. All of them wave and call me over just as the doorbell rings again. While Jin waves at me with his free hand, we both turn to see Jimin entering, hair wet and newly washed, smelling like strawberries. The moment he sees me, his eyes widen and he turns to Taehyung, who’s standing with his back against the wall and watching me, with an impressed look and a wide smile before coming over to me.

“Hey, what’s Verst- oh, Max Verstappen?” Namjoon’s voice from behind me makes me do a double take. I turn to see him pointing at my torso and I realise he’s talking about the hoodie I’m wearing, the one that has Max’s name printed on the back.

“Hey, it’s good to see you again,” he says easily, hugging me around the waist as if we’ve known each other for ages. Jungkook follows close behind, waving enthusiastically before his gaze shifts to Namjoon and he says something. Within seconds of meeting me, everyone simply goes back to their own conversations.

“Oh, yeah,” I answer, tugging at the hoodie. “I had to borrow his hoodie for PR. I left mine in your car,” I tell Taehyung. There’s a short but unmissable moment where everyone’s eyes flit to Tae, with Jimin and Jungkook clearly fighting smiles and Yoongi rolling his eyes. But I’m only looking at Taehyung, who’s still standing against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His face is still the same, smooth and perfect with the small smile as he watches me interact with his bandmates, but I swear I can see his chin tilt up and jaw harden for just a moment. 

Fortunately, at that moment the doorbell buzzes again and he goes to get it, and everything seems to go back to normal. I take a step back and go to stand next to Namjoon who’s helping himself to a sushi roll, an exasperated smile lingering on his face. “Um,” I begin in a low voice, “what was that?”

His smile gets just a bit wider as he looks up at Taehyung across the room before looking back down at me. “Nothing. Just Taehyung… and his jealous tendencies,” he says, chuckling quietly. With a knowing raise of the eyebrows, he sweeps past me and heads towards the TV.

It turns out Namjoon is bang-on. When Tae returns, he looks like his normal self, coming back up to me with the same small smile and asking me if I’m okay. Jungkook and Jin join us and even as everyone continues talking, I feel Tae move to stand closer to me, sliding a hand down my waist to rest low on my hip. It’s subtle but I can feel a heat between my legs. I decide to experiment.

“Oh, I should text Max and tell him I have his hoodie,” I say nonchalantly, tapping my phone on but keeping all my attention on Taehyung. He doesn’t disappoint. I’ve barely opened my chat with Max as Jin and Jungkook drift away, telling us to come to the TV, when Tae casually moves to stand behind me. Both his hands are low on my hips now as he looks over my shoulder. For a moment I think he’s looking into my phone, but the next second his lips are at my ear, brushing against my hair.

“Hey.” His voice almost makes my knees buckle. It’s the deep, low baritone that I’ve come to know and be obsessed with over the years but hearing it this close while his fingers grip my hips and his pelvis brushes against mine, and especially when I can hear that slight edge in his voice, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for. “Come sit with me?”

I literally cannot think of words. Instantly forgetting all about Max, I follow Kim Taehyung to the couch where everybody else is. It’s a k-drama; I don’t recognise it, but whoever has the remote immediately turns on the English subtitles when I automatically take a seat on the floor next to Jungkook, the one person apart from Namjoon I’m slightly comfortable with at this point. Taehyung, after repeatedly offering me the one empty spot on the sofa, sits right behind me and I lean back against his legs as I try to catch up.

There’s no spotlight on me, thankfully; they don’t go out of their way to include me in conversation but they don’t ignore me either, and it ends up being just the right balance. Jimin comes after a while to sit on my other side, smiling so prettily at me that it feels like my heart will stop. 

Sometime later the doorbell rings with a package for Park Jimin; everyone turns to see him holding a pink cardboard box that I recognise as the hotel bakery’s. To my surprise, he comes straight back and places it in front of me. He opens it with a flourish to reveal six cupcakes, each with a different coloured frosting on it. “For you,” he says proudly.

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me. “M-me?”

“Yeah, Jungkook told me you like them.”

Before I can ask, Jungkook shrugs on my other side. “You didn’t have dessert with us and you said you liked cupcakes.”

It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me which is why, even though I can’t eat sugar due to it being a race weekend, I pick one up and take a bite. It’s really good; I almost consider risking it and eating the whole thing but I know Lexie would end me, so I just take a second bite and turn around to offer one to Taehyung. It’s just an excuse, though; the gesture is so unexpected that I just want to share it with him - do your friends really like me? His eyebrow raise and secret smile answers it - I told you they like you - as he takes a bite from the cupcake in my hand. By the time I’ve turned around, all the other boys are helping themselves which is just as well.

“It’s amazing,” I tell Jimin, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks when he flashes me another winning smile. “Thank you.”

Nearly an hour later, after everyone has moved on from watching TV, I notice that I’ve lost track of time completely. I’ve been sitting at one of the smaller coffee tables with Jin who, after having informed me that I’ve been using chopsticks wrong my entire life, is attempting to teach me how to use it right. I look up for a moment to see Taehyung sitting on the window seat with Namjoon and Hoseok, while Jungkook lounges on his lap and scrolls through his phone. 

By the time Jin finally succeeds in teaching me a crude version of chopsticks usage, we’ve both devoured two boxes of maki - the only thing I know Lexie will be okay with me overindulging on on a race weekend. Jin leans back in his chair and sighs loudly and my eyes automatically find Taehyung again. He’s in the same place but Jungkook is no longer in his lap. Instead, Tae is leaning back against the window, one arm resting above his head while the other holds his phone, and his legs are spread out again, as though inviting me to come sit on his lap. His gaze meets mine right then and he gives me the tiniest smirk, almost as if he knows what I’m thinking.

I shake my head just as Namjoon joins us. “Aren’t you warm?” he asks, sitting on the arm of Jin’s chair and popping a gummy bear into his mouth. 

I frown and look down, realising that I’m still in Max’s hoodie and something clicks. “Oh… I hadn’t noticed.” Hesitating for a moment, I take it off the second I see that Taehyung’s looking. As expected, the smirk gets wider, as though he’s suddenly happier… or satisfied.

It’s so hot - and adorable - that it occurs to him to be jealous. It’s past nine now, which means I’m almost done with twenty-four hours of waiting since meeting Kim Taehyung before I can officially start to pursue him. My thoughts are getting dirtier by the minute and I’m just waiting for a signal from him that it’s okay to leave. 

Ten minutes pass and nothing changes. Taehyung’s still sitting with his lap looking inviting as hell and all my attempts at walking across the room, touching Jungkook’s shoulder and even wrapping Max’s discarded hoodie around my shoulders don’t work. Finally, when Tae’s alone at the food table, I fall back to Plan A.

I come up from behind him and run my hands up his arms casually, resting them on his biceps. The moment I touch them, I feel the familiar heat between my legs again. Focus, Komyshan. Tae turns slightly to see me behind him, head lingering next to his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice deep and sexy as ever.

“Hey. So, um…” I move closer to him, not wanting anyone to overhear, “Tomorrow is Qualifying and I have to be well-rested and up early, so…”

It takes him exactly half a second to catch my drift and another to drop the gummy bears in his hand back into the box. He turns to face me, leaning back against the table. “So…?”

He wants me to say it. Sneaky little shit. Taehyung’s casual confidence coupled with his laidback position, not to mention that goddamn smirk, makes me want to simultaneously choke him and ask him to -

“So… I should head out,” I tell him, mimicking his nonchalance.

“You’re leaving?”

“Mhm. Long day tomorrow.”

“Sounds like you should be good and tired to get a good night’s sleep.”

“I think I can figure something out.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches slightly again and I know it’s working. “I thought we had some… alone time planned.”

“I don’t want to take you away from your friends,” I tell him. “And besides…” I take a small step closer to him “... I’m not really sure what to expect during… alone time.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Or rather, he doesn't respond with words. Instead, his smirk gets just a bit more pronounced and he just continues looking at me, almost like he’s picturing it. Just when I feel like he’s literally undressing me with his eyes, he gives me a small shrug and an innocent smile. “Whatever you want.”

Aaaand we’re done. I want a lot - but I’m not about to tell him that. “Good. So it’s settled, then?” When he doesn’t say anything, I play my last card. “Or you can stay and I can just go take care of it myself.”

All vestiges of a smile leave Taehyung’s face. He grabs my wrist with one hand and his black hoodie with the other and turns to his friends with a completely normal expression. There’s a general dry outcry that we’re leaving so soon, followed by Jimin yelling something in Korean and everyone laughing. I look up at Tae to see him avoiding their eyes and fighting a smile when Jin shouts “Have a good night!” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes and waves to them as we head out the door. Just to add to the drama, I pull him out by the hand, walking backwards and winking at the boys as the door closes behind him.

The walk back to my room is a blur. All I know is that we’re hurrying as much as we can, taking great pains to not draw any attention to ourselves until my room finally comes into view. My keycard is ready in my hand and I can feel Taehyung’s hand hovering over my lower back and I know he’s desperately resisting the urge to touch me until we’re inside. The second my door opens, I turn around and walk backwards, not bothering to turn on any lights other than the dim ones already on. The door closes behind him and I immediately hook my fingers around his belt loops and pull him towards me the same moment that his hands go up to my face and he lowers his head and kisses me.

“Finally,” he murmurs against my lips, echoing my exact thoughts, reaching one hand into my hair and pulling me closer to him with the other on my waist. Why haven’t I realised until now just how tall he is? Or how lean his torso is, or how his arms feel like the steadiest things I’ve ever felt around me? I open my mouth to let him in and sigh into the kiss, unable to help myself. I run one hand through his hair, his long, thick, sexy hair, and pull, making him grunt and move his hand down my waist and hips to my arse.

“Clothes off,” I say softly, pulling away for the briefest moment to take my top off over my head. Taehyung does the same with his t-shirt and I realise that seeing Taehyung with an unbuttoned shirt last night came nowhere close to seeing him like this, half-naked in the semi-darkness with a look of hunger in his eyes as I look right at him and unhook my bra, letting it fall on the floor next to him.

He has me pulled flush against him in a moment, kissing me harder than ever. Our hands are everywhere and our kisses are all lips and tongue and teeth; an entire day’s worth of tension and longing has finally come forth and neither of us are willing to waste even a single moment of it. My hands travel down to his jeans and I begin unbuttoning them, brushing against his hard abdomen, before I slip one hand in and feel his erection through the fabric of his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing me even harder and moving  us to the couch where I push him down and climb on to straddle him, lowering my head to kiss him again. Without thinking, I roll my hips forward and he groans into my mouth, pulling away and resting his head back against the sofa for a moment. I look at him - no, I gaze at him, never ever wanting to forget this sight. His hair is falling into his eyes, his jaw is clenched and mouth parted slightly as he catches his breath. 

Taehyung kisses me again, moving his lips down my jaw and to my neck, immediately finding the exact spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. He sucks on it as one hand moves to cup my breast, the other firm on my hip. I bite my lip to stop myself moaning too loudly, clutching at his hair and feeling his erection harden even more against me. 

“Fuck, Tae,” I whisper. I need him now. He feels so right against me that I find myself not even caring if I’m being too obvious about how much I want him. I palm him through his boxers and he groans again.

“Shit, Dilara,” he mumbles against my collarbone. “God, I need you, I -”

I pull away to stand up and peel off my leggings, standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear. His eyes rake over my entire body and I revel in it. I take a step forward and he reaches for me but instead of straddling him again, I drop to my knees in front of him.

Taehyung bites his lower lip. “Dilara -”

“I want to,” I interrupt him, reaching for his erection. His eyes shut involuntarily but he opens them again.

“You - you really don’t have to -”

“I know,” I tell him and look him in the eye. “I’ll stop if you want me to… but I don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “Fuck, where have you been all my life?” he sighs.

I grin and reach for his jeans, pulling them down. He raises his pelvis off the couch so I can take them off completely along with his boxers. His erection springs free and my eyes widen at his size. I just know my jaw is going to get a workout from hell and just the thought of it makes me so fucking wet that I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him once.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut immediately and he swears, his back against the couch and his hands clutching the fabric of the seat. I run my tongue along his tip and continue stroking him, watching him the whole time as he slowly comes undone. Somewhere along the way, I link my fingers with his and squeeze his hand. His eyes open to meet mine and he gets the hint, reaching for my hair and grabbing it hard. I moan in sweet pain and he swears again, getting close. I suck him off until my jaw hurts, until he’s louder than I’ve ever heard him and he finally finishes in my mouth, warm fluid coating my tongue as I continue stroking him slower now, letting him ride out his high.

I pull away, swallowing and wiping my mouth as he gets his bearings back. He opens his eyes and looks down at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “Come here,” he says softly, helping me back up onto his lap. I straddle him again and he kisses me, deep and long, holding my face in one hand and pulling me close to him with the other. His hand is big and flat on my back as I kiss him back, wanting him, needing him so badly.

Almost as though he’s read my mind, he suddenly stands up and, without breaking a sweat, carries me straight to the bed and drops me on it. He comes up to kiss me once, biting my lower lip softly, before moving down to my neck. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. He runs one hand down my torso and abdomen to reach my core and presses against the cloth. His sharp intake of breath tells me that he can feel just how wet I am. 

He pulls my underwear off and, before I know it, sinks one finger into my folds. I whimper; it feels so fucking good, finally, finally, to have him inside of me like I’ve been thinking about all day. He slips another finger in and my back arches. “Fuck, fuck,” I moan, clutching my pillow as my knees bend automatically.

Taehyung grunts softly and kisses me, his long hair falling into his eyes and onto my forehead. “Can you take another for me, baby?”

“Yes,” I say immediately, biting my lip in anticipation as he slips a third finger into me. His thumb goes to massage my clit and I’m so close, so close… “God, Tae, I’m gonna -”

And I do. It’s like an explosion when I finally come and feel him slow his fingers down slightly as he lets me ride out my high. I open my eyes slowly to see Taehyung watching me, eyes blazing and jaw clenched, biting down on his bottom lip. He lowers his head to give me a quick kiss before his eyes flash. “Think you have one more in you?” he asks as he moves lower down my body and settles between my legs. He kisses my inner thigh before running his tongue along my folds but I know I can’t take this anymore.

“Taehyung,” I whisper, sitting up on my elbows, “I can’t. I just want… I just want you. Now.”

“Are you sure? I just want to make you feel good,” he says, frowning with what I realise is concern. “I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Mm, you won’t. Please, Tae,” I add, and apparently that’s what works. Taehyung kisses my inner thigh once again before he gets off the bed and goes to pick up his discarded jeans next to the couch. I can’t help but just stare at him as he does, long hair and lean body completely on display. Just for me, I think. Mine.

He returns with a condom and a smirk. “Always ready,” he quips, making me laugh. He puts it on and climbs on top of me, lining himself up at my entrance. Brushing my bangs off my forehead, he asks, “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

“I will,” I promise, reaching up to kiss his jaw. Tae nods and enters me slowly; both of us groan in pleasure and I fall back on the bed, opening my legs further and taking him in until he bottoms out. He’s big - that I knew the moment I’d taken off his boxers. It hurts, but not in a bad way. Another sigh escapes my lips as he pulls out to enter me again, and again, until we establish a rhythm.

“Fuck, Dilara, you feel so good, baby,” groans Taehyung, dropping his head onto my shoulder as he goes faster. I grip his bicep and wrap my leg around him to pull him in as he turns to capture my lips in his. I kiss him back; it’s messy and desperate and full of sighs and moans as he goes even faster. His hand comes up to grip my breast, lips still against mine, and I clutch at his shoulder, feeling my nails dig into his skin.

“Oh, my -” I can’t even finish my sentence before he hits the spot and I hit my second orgasm of the night, so much louder this time as I fall back on the bed again. Taehyung’s still going but I can tell he’s close by the way his grunts are getting louder and his jaw is clenching harder. It’s another ten seconds before he slams into me a final time and finishes inside the condom, supporting himself with his hands flat on the bed.

We stay there for a few seconds, both breathing in what just happened. Then, Taehyung raises his head to look at me and presses a soft kiss to my mouth before climbing off me and going out to dispose of the condom. He comes back in a few seconds, beautifully naked, and climbs back onto the bed next to me. We lie there in comfortable silence, our hands intertwined between us, while I think about how we were lying exactly like this just last night on a hotel rooftop when we’d met for the first time.

As the high slowly dissipates, I feel goosebumps erupt on my arm from the AC. Taehyung notices too, and wraps an arm gently around my waist. “Cold?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.

“Just a bit,” I answer, turning onto my side and kissing him. He kisses me back and, contrary to the roughness of what just happened, this is slower, deeper, almost loving. I brush my thumb across his cheekbones as he pulls me closer, eventually pulling me on top of him. Straddling him again, I pull away and sit up, getting my first good look at Kim Taehyung, naked. In my bed.

He’s beautiful. Unlike Jungkook who’s all bulk and muscle, Tae is much leaner, like a tennis player or a Formula 1 driver even. His torso is long and slender, while his collarbones arch to become lean biceps, sinewy forearms and slender fingers currently resting on my thighs. I look up to meet his eyes again to see him smirking up at me, like he knows exactly what I’m doing.

“This is my favourite hair on you,” I tell him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes slightly. He flicks his hair back as though out of habit. “Black… suits you.”

“Yeah?” His hands rise up to rest on my hips. “Just black?”

“The grey is a close second,” I agree after a moment. “The dark blond, too.” The fact of the matter is that Taehyung looks fantastic no matter what his hair looks like, but I can’t tell him that. He’s looking at me far too intensely; it’s making my face heat up. I suddenly feel conscious; he’s too gorgeous himself to be looking at me with this much reverence. “I need to… clean up,” I say finally, climbing off him and the bed, gathering my hair and slipping on my underwear as I search the floor for something to wear.

“My t-shirt’s right there,” he says, apparently knowing what I’m doing. I turn to see him watching me with a content smile, hands behind his head. Wordlessly, I pick it up and put it on, waving to him as I walk into the bathroom and close it behind me. 

Once I’m in, I lean against the door and exhale. I can still smell him on me, on my skin, on his white t-shirt that reaches the tops of my thighs. I shut my eyes; it’s not that I can’t believe I just had sex with V of BTS - it’s that I can, even though just twenty-four hours ago, I was at a BTS backstage party waiting for him to just talk to me. I turn my head to look at the mirror and wince as I move closer. 

My hair is a mess - no surprise there, considering how much Tae kept running his hands through it, tangling it and pulling at it. My stomach leaps at the memory of it. My lipstick, which had stayed through the entire time I’d been with the band, has now finally disappeared as well - no surprise there either. Moving closer, I brush my hair off my neck to inspect the most critical aspect of our session; I can’t stop a smile from appearing on my face. At the side of my neck, a couple inches below my ear, is a brand new hickey, blooming red and big.

I touch it gingerly and, almost as if it’s a signal, my inner thigh tingles. I know what it is before I’ve checked; right on the inside of my left thigh, barely three inches below my crotch are two smaller hickeys. When I check, there’s another on my right. 

He’s marked me, I realise. The thought makes me feel strangely reassured. It doesn’t feel aggressive or possessive; if anything, it gives off a sense of… desperation, almost. As though he doesn’t want to miss the chance to prove that I’m -

“No,” I whisper out loud. I can’t let my thoughts go down this road, not tonight. I close my eyes, forcing myself to think about literally anything else, when I hear a soft humming of Tu les garçons et les filles again.

He’s on the bed where I’d left him, but he’s put on his boxers and is scrolling through his phone. The moment he sees me, he ceases humming and his face breaks out into the same boxy smile that regularly breaks millions of hearts around the world. 

“Don’t stop,” I tell him, climbing onto the bed next to him and settling down on my stomach. “Sounded nice.”

Tae raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You like it?”

“I always like hearing you sing,” I say honestly, my heart skipping a beat when he smiles and drops his gaze. “What? That can’t be the first time someone complimented your voice.”

“It’s not,” he admits, “but people usually prefer Jungkook or Jimin.” He says it in a matter-of-fact tone.

I shrug. “Yours is the sexiest.” He smirks, like I knew he would. When I bite my lip and raise an eyebrow, it widens into a grin.

“Will I get to see you drive tomorrow?” he asks, tugging on the ends of my hair.

“Definitely. I don’t see how they can postpone anything any further even if it pours all day,” I add, resting my head on my hands and looking up at him. “I really hope it doesn’t, though. We only get one practice session and Suzuka is hard enough for a rookie without the track being wet.”

Taehyung frowns but doesn’t say anything, brushing the back of his hand light against my cheek. My eyes flutter shut for a moment at his touch as I try to savour it as much as I can and not think about tomorrow. I’m just about to ask him if he wants to switch on some music - anything to get me to stop stressing before I really start stressing - when my phone pings, first once and then in a succession of pings.

I raise my head and turn around to the backpack I’ve been carrying around all day. I get up, leaving Tae lying on the bed, and retrieve it to see a series of messages from Lexie, all apologising for being MIA all day because of her food poisoning and that she hopes I’m ready for tomorrow. I text her back immediately, telling her to chill, when I see a notification from Max pop up just as a pair of arms wrap around my waist and my back meets a nice, warm, naked chest.

Taehyung lowers his head onto my shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of my neck, his long hair tickling my cheek. “Dilara,” he says quietly, and it sounds like his favourite song in the world. “Dilara,” he says again, this time in a whisper, grazing my ear with his teeth. My breathing stutters a bit but I don’t want him to stop; I close my eyes and sink back into him, tilting my head slightly to give him better access. I feel his breath on my ear and shiver.

“Do you want to order some food?”

My eyes snap open and I snicker, elbowing him in the ribs and pulling away. He laughs his deep, open laugh and I swoon - internally, of course. “I can’t eat anymore,” I tell him, shaking my head and leaning against the table. “I’m driving tomorrow so I have to, you know. Stay light.”

Tae nods understandingly. “Alright, I’ll just get food for me. Is that alright?”

“No, you are forbidden from eating if I’m not.”

“Hilarious. Oh, can you have ice cream?” he suggests. “Come on, who can say no to ice cream?”

I scoff. “All twenty of us getting into a car tomorrow. Food is bad enough, but sugar is absolutely the worst. Why do you think I said no to dessert in the car today?”

He frowns. “But… you ate the cupcakes,” he points out. “Why -”

I give him a look. “Well, firstly, I actually only had, like, two bites. I strategically offered bites to you and Jimin and Jungkook by which time the rest of you had finished the box. And secondly… well, of course I ate them. Jimin was so nice to get them for me,” I add, looking at the floor self-consciously. “Actually, why was he being so nice?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, clearly knowing what I want him to admit. “You ate the cupcake even though you’re not supposed to be eating sugar. Why were you being so nice?”

“Fair enough.”

He simply grins. “That’s me. I think Jimin likes you, though. He’s such a… how do you say it? Flirt?”

I laugh. “He’s cute. And, you know, my favourite member.”

Taehyung gives me an unimpressed look as my phone pings again and I go back to checking my messages. They’re mostly from Lexie and Christian, the latter of whom has sent me a screenshot of some data from last year’s race in Suzuka. 

“Something wrong?” Taehyung asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kissing my cheek with ease, as though he does it all the time.

“No,” I sigh, “just stuff to look over for tomorrow.” I try to keep the anxiety out of my voice but I know I haven’t succeeded. Instead of random encouragement, Tae just holds me a bit tighter and rests his head on my shoulder, swaying slightly to the music. I close my eyes and sink back into him, gripping his arms and swaying along.

“I dare you to do something!” We sing together all of a sudden and I turn around to see him singing just as dramatically as I am. He takes my hand and, just like earlier today, spins me and pulls me in by my waist and we sing the entire chorus and the next verse together until his long hair in his eyes and broad shoulders get too much for me and I get up on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and try to kiss him.

Except I don’t reach.

It seems to take Taehyung a moment to realise what I was trying to do before he bursts out laughing. He overdoes it for sure, even when I pick up my t-shirt from the floor and throw it at him. “You’re so cute,” he tells me, smiling fondly and coming up to me to wrap his arms around my waist even as I half-heartedly try to push him off. He lowers his head and kisses me and, without warning, places a hand under my thigh and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist out of instinct as he turns around and takes me back to the bed. I’m on my back for just a few seconds before I flip us over and straddle him.

“My turn,” I tell him, flipping my hair over my shoulders and bending over him, tucking my hair behind my ears just as my phone rings. I groan and drop my head onto his shoulder before I climb off, chuckling at his protests. I pick up the call to hear Max Verstappen’s voice.

“This better be really important,” I state, placing a hand on my hip and looking back at Tae apologetically.

“It is,” says Max confidently. He sounds like he’s with someone when he says, “You want to go get a snack from the restaurant? It’s probably empty by now.”

I frown incredulously. This is important? “I’m, uh…” I trail off, turning and looking at Taehyung again, who’s now lounging on the bed looking like a Greek statue. I get the overwhelming urge to run my tongue up his lean, hard torso and force myself to focus. “... busy.”

I can almost hear Max raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Busy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Like last night kind of busy?”

“Alright, Verstappen, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. Bye,” I say loudly, interrupting his joking response. I shake my head and turn around to see Taehyung now off the bed and walking towards me.

“Hey,” he says, kissing me quickly on the mouth, “do you mind if I take a quick shower? I mean, I could go back to my room and do it and then come back to -”

“Go take a shower, Tae,” I say, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, and smacking his arse for good measure. He laughs and disappears into the bathroom while I settle on the couch in Tae’s hoodie that’s lying on the table and open up Christian’s messages.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m going through the last one, my laptop open on my side with a picture of the track on full screen. I’m frowning, trying to calculate something in the third sector, when the doorbell rings. I get off the couch and open it to reveal Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo, both in hoodies and joggers.

“Hey, we came to see if you changed your mind,” said Max, not even trying to lie. His gaze falls to your lower half and he smiles. “Looks like you didn’t, though.”

I’ve just remembered that all I’m wearing is an oversized hoodie (and it’s Max and Danny), so I don’t really care. “Afraid not.”

Daniel shrugs. “We can order in, too,” he suggests, his trademark grin appearing on his face, telling me instantly that Max has told him all about last night. 

“That’s really not a good idea,” I insist. “In fact, why don’t you -”

“Hey, Dilara, I was thinking of ordering dessert in case you want -” Taehyung’s deep voice comes from behind me and I turn around in horrendous anticipation to see him in nothing but a towel around his waist, looking up from his phone, first at me and then at my guests.

Max and Danny are evidently speechless - and so am I, but for different reasons. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been mortified, but I’m too distracted by the discovery that apparently the only thing that’s more attractive than Kim Taehyung is Kim Taehyung straight out of the shower. My eyes roam shamelessly over the beads of water still on his body, his wet hair falling into his eyes, how low that towel is…

I remember I have company and look back at Max and Danny, shrugging innocently. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. His smooth, impassive face reveals the slightest smirk before he turns around and nonchalantly disappears back into the room.

I turn back to the boys, both of whom have a mixture of amazement and embarrassment on their faces. “You know what,” says Daniel finally, clapping Max on the shoulder, “you do seem really busy.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you in the morning,” agrees Max quickly, winking at me before I nod and shut the door. I walk back into the room to see Tae still in his towel, scrolling through his phone as he stands near the edge of the bed. I go up to him purposefully, shedding the hoodie and t-shirt on the way. He looks up at me and his eyes widen in surprise but I don’t stop.

“That was so hot,” I tell him in a low voice, reaching up to kiss him with one hand in his hair and undoing his towel with the other. If Taehyung is taken off guard, he doesn’t really show it. His arms go around my waist and he pushes me down on the bed, kissing me back. 

This time, it isn’t quite like before, where we were just desperate to finally be together. No, this time, we go slower. Tae takes his time which, as it turns out, elicits a whole lot of other responses from me. He fully takes charge, too; it’s subtle and I don’t even realise it’s happened until I’m on my knees while he’s sucking on my neck and rubbing furious circles on my clit and I’m practically begging him to fuck me. He pulls me back flush against his chest as he begins a rhythm, each thrust making me whimper until we both finish almost at the same time and I can feel him pant against my back and kiss my shoulder.

We stay in bed after that, under the covers. We talk about indie music; he tells me he writes it and I inform him that I listen to it, followed by a bunch of recommendations. I tell him about the time I was at a music festival back home and was waiting for my friends at the smallest, least crowded stage and how much I don’t regret that decision to this day. He tells me about the first song he wrote and produced and how the songwriting process makes him feel lonelier than he’d imagined. I, after privately considering, end up telling him about my mother, and how Rudy Komyshan treating me like his real child is the only reason I’m able to race today.

Taehyung kisses me at that, a gentle, protective kiss, holding my face and brushing his thumb across my cheek. He doesn’t say anything but then again, he doesn’t need to. We lie next to each other and at some point I fall asleep, smelling lotion and feeling hard muscle underneath my fingers.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm alone.

~

Thank you for reading. Check out the link for Part 2 in the description, and don't forget to drop a review :)

#taehyung x oc #taehyung reader #taehyung fanfic #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanwhq #btsdreamcourt #btscarnivalnet #kvanity #wkcnet #bts v #bts v fanfic

[franf94]

My mini Quogan ff pt. 1

Ok, I tried my best to write in English. Sorry for all the mistakes that you'll find in it. - Fran

Quinn stared at her reflection, tears in her eyes. She knew why she had ended up staring at her reflection, her hair tousled, her face still swollen with sleep, her makeup from the night before unmade, wearing an old Logan's sweatshirt with the P.C.A. insignia. And she was also pretty sure she knew the when and where that had brought her there. Now she had to deal with the rest. Quinn knew that in order to test a hypothesis, multiple attempts must be made. Was it possible that it had really taken so little? She touched the plastic stick with his fingertips, as if to ascertain once again the value of her thesis. A couple of drinks and now she had been faced with four positive pregnancy tests. She knew that the result of a single test could be biased, but the percentage that four different tests were all wrong was very small. It had only been a few weeks since the talk regarding their future and the possibility of trying to stop using contraceptives. What will it be they had said to each other. No pressure. None at all. Then again, they both knew that the path to having a baby could be longer than expected. No calendar, no ovulation test. They would simply continue to make love freely. And not even a month later they had succeeded. Evidently Quinn had also underestimated their fertility. Her first suspicion had arisen last week when she and Logan had gone to Seattle to celebrate spring break with Quinn's parents and grandmother. Her mother had made the usual roast, and Quinn had sharpened a very severe bout of nausea. At first she had blamed jetlag. After all, she had just returned from a trip to Tokyo, and it was normal to feel a little sick. The nausea had continued throughout the week, at regular intervals but the girl had not given it much thought. She had willingly accepted Logan's thoughtful attention to her when she was sick. Until the night before. It was her and Logan's engagement anniversary so they had gone out to dinner at an exclusive L.A. club. They had ordered lobster and wine, and Quinn, after just two sips, had felt dizzy. It was then that she had paid attention to her menstrual cycle app. It was almost six days late. She knew they could mean nothing, like everything. Sometimes it had happened to her before, and she and Logan had been more scared than they should have been when they were just two teens. Not now. Now they were two adults with two stable careers. And clearly money had never been an issue for them. So there she is. Standing in the patron bathroom with a positive pregnancy test in her hand. Quinn came out of the bathroom. Her bare feet silently tapping on the hardwood floor and her robe swaying with every step she took. Logan was still asleep. He was shirtless, lying on his stomach with both arms under the pillow. He was snoring softly and smiling in his sleep.She could not hold back a smile. Sometimes it seemed to her that she was still looking at that 17-year-old curly-haired boy, full of himself and crazy about money. They had certainly come a long way together.Quinn gasped: she did not know how to tell him. God, he will freak out for sure.

PART 2 HERE!

#quogan #logan reese #quinn pensky #zoey 101 #zoey102 #quinn x logan #fanfiction #fanfic #pregnant #pregnancy

[fizzingwizard]

Back in the US for the first time in five years

(Wowww apparently posting on tumblr got waaaayy stupider during the time I was offline bahahahaha. took forever just to put in a cut and start a new line!)

Left home at 2:30 on Friday Japan time, got to my mom's new place around 9 pm New York time. About 22 hrs traveling in total. Not the longest and I didn't have to stop in like O'hare or any place I hate. Lots of usual flight nonsense occurred on the way, but it was overall smooth. The worst was when I got to New York and it took 30 min to get my bag because it was the very last one to be unloaded -.-; Then I was supposed to meet a driver to take me to my mom's place, but that driver got held up and sent someone else, who changed the plan, but I didn't know till I got out of baggage claim. And the driver couldn't get inside because it was so busy, so I had to just wait outside looking for his license plate amid all the many, many cars in the night. He did find me and then lectured me because I didn't have a good method of communication. I was going to rely on wifi because I couldn't find a US sim card for my old phone, a plan which would have been fine had the driver come into the airport like was the original plan. Because he was outside I couldn't access wifi. So. Anyway I tipped him with an apology... I do know better ways to have a phone when you travel internationally, but the problem is my current phone is just too old. It works just fine in Japan but can't do apps and no one makes anything for it. So I need a new one, but I just didn't want to pay through the nose for it so I didn't rush it...

Whatever. I got to the house in the end.

My mom's condo with her partner is small but really nice. It's weird being somewhere totally new, but much less weird than I expected because they made it so comfortable.

My mom's partner is really chill and doesn't have issues talking about my dad

The town they're living in is like Star's Hollow minus all the TV show over-decorating. It's really nice. Everyone is old though x'D I've seen like two youngish people outside of store employees. I'm no great conversationalist to begin with, and talking to people 30-40 years older than me is even harder. All I can say is "I like your scarf." In a conversation about raffles that falsely claim to be associated with charities, I made what I thought was a reasonable comment comparing that with psychics who promise people they're in touch with their loved one and take their money. Of course, one lady nearby totally believes psychics are real and "has done years of research on it." I'm like ok I'm not saying psychic powers can't exist, I'm saying taking people's money while lying to them is bad... and then uhhh just moved on to complimenting her scarf.

They're nice people but it is funny, watching a large crowd of people have conversations over each other, no one really interested in what each other is saying but just happy to be talking while another person is near and talking too...? My mom wants to talk about a movie she watched, so she's talking about that, at the same time her partner is talking about the food, their friend can't hear either of them because it's so loud so she's talking about the drinks at the bar. There was really no coherence! But everyone is happy and having fun. I don't get it but I guess that's why I suck at small talk.

Also talked to my dad. He said hello and then shared all his medical updates, which apparently includes he's got some very slow-acting form of leukemia! Sooo that was a fun surprise! I got to cry on my first day back!

I am also sick. Started with a sore throat literally the day before I was supposed to leave and bit by bit got other symptoms. Fortunately it didn't fuck me up too much on the plane. Probably just a cold. Keep crossing my fingers I'll be over it soon.

but I'm overall happy. I will feel better when I'm no longer sick and jetlagged, but it's nice to see my mom. I don't like all these crowds, but I like the area and I think during the week I won't be getting shuffled all over the place so much. it's gonna go by fast so I gotta appreciate

#fizz's life