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#because you loooove that person and they make you feel warm and you want to be close to them and cherish them
riizeandshine · 3 months
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Dating Details with Yang Jeongin!
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Yang Jeongin x gn!Reader Genre — Fluff Warnings — Kissing, Petnames (Baby)
Jeongin who purposely shows off his smile as a way to tease you
We know the boy is smiley. He’s quite literally the definition of vitamin c. When he smiles, he knows the effect it has on you. Feeling down? He’ll smile for you. Feeling shy? He’s going to smile. Just want a hug? His smile is the brightest!
“Can I have a kiss please?” You pout. Jeongin cradles your flushed cheeks and smiles. He gets so so so close to your face to the point that his nose is touching yours.
“Hmmm, maybe?” He giggles, flashing a bright smile as he pulls away.
You whine a bit from his teasing but he's quick to make you all crazy again. He sweeps you off your feet and kisses you a few times.
"Better?" He says with the same energetic smile.
Jeongin who is your personal fashion stylist
It’s not that he doesn’t like your fashion, he absolutely adores it. But this guy has a keen eye for amplifying what you already have. He might buy those matchy couple’s clothing or lend you items from his own collection. His main goal though is to find what you like and help you.
“Wanna try this bag or this one?” Jeongin jingles a brown bag and a grey tote bag behind you in the mirror. 
“Baby, you haven’t even helped me decide on which sweater I should wear yet” You say, turning around and engulfing him in a cozy hug.
“The off-white sweater with the black jeans… aaaaand take this bag” He exits the hug and hands you another bag that he got out of nowhere. 
“What would I do without you?” You peck his cheek before skipping along to find the sweater Jeongin recommended.
Jeongin who loves your hands
Putting his hands on yours, with yours or just seeing them makes him all warm inside. To him, holding your hand while walking down the street is cute. Taking your hands to dance with you is romantic. But placing his hands to mirror your movements while you do chores or play games together is absolutely the end of him (ie he's melting).
Jeongin is teaching you how to play games on his computer. You try to navigate your way through the first round but immediately you die. 
“Innie, how do I use the controls again?” You peer to his screen to make sure he's not busy in his own game.
“Here, let me show you” He pauses his game and makes his way behind you to place his hand on yours.
“Press WASD to move around. Use the mouse like this to aim and move your view” His breath fans the side of your face. 
“Oh okay! Thanks!” As you enter a new match, Jeongin takes a step back and admires you working to survive the whole time. He can't help but smile knowing that he helped you win that game! You did it, baby!!
Jeongin who can’t stop looking after you
Did you see the pattern in the last two? Call it hovering or call him your shadow, this boy is right behind you all the time. He loves watching you do your own thing because you do certain things that you only do on your own. For example, you’re doing your work on your laptop. Jeongin might sit in the same room just to be in your presence and to check on you. He’s watching you to take care of you when you need it and to just see you be you.
Oh? They just drank their water… I think it’s empty now. I should refill it
What song are they humming? Comflex? 
They must be so tired. I hope they’ll be done so I can take them out for some snacks!!!
Jeongin who isn’t afraid to show his ways of love
I don’t know if it’s just him or you but this man is CONFIDENT. He LOOOOVES loving you. I really see him paying attention to your love languages and committing to it. Quality time? That’s why he’s your shadow! Acts of service? You don't have to ask him twice, you’ll come home to a spotless home and your favorite meal. Words of affirmation? He’ll tell you in the morning, on text, through call and at night. He loves you and will never hesitate to do so. 
“I tell you this all the time but I love you. I love you so much, it's beyond words. I really can’t explain how grateful I am to have you. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I want you by my side forever”
Jeongin is the type of boyfriend who is considered “the dream” or the “ideal” type. Literally what you read in fanfics, this man is IT. His love is very strong and will always be known amongst the both of you and the world. He believes that with your love, he'll become a better person too. And watch out, sun, the days will be so much brighter when he's with Y/n ;)
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 5 months
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I LOOOOVE Ur Alfie fics. Could u do just general headcannons about being married and starting a family with him? ❤️
Hi bb!!! Im so glad you like them! I hope you enjoy these HCs, I know I kind of went overboard! Maybe I’ll do a continuation?? Maybe I’ll focus on different aspect of life with him? Idk we’ll workshop it. As always, sending all my love 💕💕💕
Married Life with Alfie Solomons - HCs
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In planning the wedding, you initially were planning on a small wedding. Nothing too extravagant, just close family and a party at the house.
That’s what you planned anyway. It grew and grew with every family member that “HAD to come treacle!” Both of your families are rather large and extended. Mixed with business associates that had to be invited for sake of peace… it exploded into a 200 person affair.
Despite the fact that Alfie prefers to not be disturbed, it ended up being a grand affair. Drinks flowed. Laughter was raucous. The dancing never stopped! And there were only 3 fights, which Alfie involved himself in only 2 of them. Needless to say, it went rather well!
But your favorite part of the night above all was when you got home. Still giggling and warm from the party, you’re pulled into the parlor by your darling Alfie. Shirt half done, and hair a disaster, he looks so so handsome. His eyes so soft, he puts on the radio, bringing you in close to him, “Mrs. Solomons… would you give an old man a dance?”
And you do. Song after song, twirling around the parlor, enjoying the life that had a new layer of meaning.
Despite Alfie’s insistence that you shouldn’t keep working because, “No love of mine should be lifting a finger.” You kept your job at the distillery as his secretary and head of the jewelry shop. You insisted to Alfie that keeping your job that still made you feel like your own person, not just Alfie’s spouse.
There was something so intimate and special in waking up every morning with him, walking to the office with him, going through the work day, and coming home with him. If Alfie was clingy before, it had only grown worse since your nuptials. He loved having you near. He never wanted you away from his side.
Though the mornings were sweet, the evenings were by far your favorite with Alfie. Coming home, drawing the curtains closed to hide away in your own little oasis of solitude and quiet.
Instead of leaving you to do all the cooking and cleaning for the evening meal like other men of the time, Alfie stays wrapped close to your apron strings. As you craft a soul warming meal, he stays chopping and cutting, washing up the dishes as you go to ensure that the evening is free of any impediments.
Alfie takes Shabbat incredibly seriously. He is on a strict schedule on those days, and actually forbids you from working on Fridays, to let you prepare anything needed for the Sabbath. Many times your family joins you in your home, and Alfie takes the lead in prayers. Though you didn't think it was possible, your heart grows with adoration each time you watch him quietly go through the ritual. Watching his devotion and care to the faith and your people's history reminds you of the type of man he his.
Marriage with Alfie does not come without some arguments. It is Alfie Solomons. Both of you stubborn and passionate, it’s what makes you a formidable force together, but it also brings some… loud outbursts.
It usually is about whether or not he’s being wise in his decisions. But it also comes out when he thinks you’re not being careful. When a jealous flare rises up in him. Or just when he gets a little snippy.
But it doesn’t take much to make up. Once you and Alfie have let it all out, either one of you will go to the other and bridge the gap. When he’s particularly cross, all it takes is for you to find him in his favorite chair. Lean over the back of it, draping your arms across his neck. “I’m so sorry Alfie,” you whisper in his ear, a particular weakness, “I know you’re just looking out for me. Forgive me?” A few kisses in his neck and he’ll be dragging you into his lap, grumbling about how much of a vicious siren you are.
When you’re cross… Alfie pulls out all the theatrics. He comes to your room where you’ve holed up, seething. He gets on his knees, taking your hand in his, “Awe treacle… have pity on an old man. I’m sorry my love, I am. Don’t punish me too harshly now! Please give you husband a kiss yeah? This life is so short! Let’s not go to bed angry my love!”
And of course you forgive him. How can you not when he kisses you so sweetly, and begs so beautifully.
It will be a few years before you and Alfie have children. Alfie was worried that he wouldn’t be a good father due to his age, but in his heart of hearts he wanted little ones. He yearned to play with the kids on the floor with the dogs. To swing them around in the garden. Watch you be an incredible mother. Though he was afraid, you knew he would be the perfect father.
Once you both confessed your mutual desire for kids, it happened shockingly quickly. But is anyone really shocked? Alfie is determined and disciplined above all else.
Once you do get pregnant, Alfie does put his foot down. You are not coming into the office. It is far too dangerous for you to be coming in around all 'that business'. And Alfie heard from someone (he made it up) that working isn't good for birthing or babies.
He benches you for the entire pregnancy, and brings his former housekeeper Sarah out of retirement to help tend to you.
Every night Alfie would come home with something new for you. Brilliant and fragrant flowers. A sweet from the bakery. A new necklace or bracelet that you just had to have. "Growing a baby is hard work love! Especially with my kids! Big ol brutes growing in there eh?"
Whenever you became shy or uncomfortable about your changing body, Alfie would just croon in your ear, "Oh my love, you are absolutely radiant. An angel from God yeah? No no, a goddess. You're an absolute goddess yeah?" He'll rub your swollen feet as you cry, kissing your ankles as you release your stress and worries about the day.
As you can imagine... naming the baby (or babies as he liked to remind you of the possibility) was an incredible ordeal. No name was suitable.
"No no, he'll get hit. If I knew a little boy with that name in school, I would decimate him." "Now treacle that doesn't even sound good with Solomons!" "Mmm no. I don't like the meaning of the name. Not a good omen." "Can't do that name. I killed a man with that name."
After six days!! You both are able to come to an agreement. Joseph for a boy. Chava, after his mother. In the evenings, Alfie takes to reading to the baby, referring to them by both names. "Alfie dearest, there's only one in there!" "No no treacle. I know they're both in there. You may only feel one, but that's because Joseph is just a little shy ain't you my boy? Chava is going to be a little spitfire, just like her mum. They're in there, I know they are."
At night, Alfie pulls you to his side as he always does, with a protective hand splayed over your swollen belly. It's getting harder for you to sleep at night, so many times you lie awake, staring at your husband, running your own hand over your stomach, feeling the kicks and turns.
The prospect of twins is near impossible. But Alfie... he is so certain. And sometimes... sometimes you feel an extra flutter. An extra bit of energy that is almost missed.
The labor is hard. Long. Your mother comes to help along with Sarah and the midwife, and you had never felt pains like that before. Despite Sarah's admonishment, Alfie pushes himself into the room, wanting to be right next to you the entire time. He never leaves your side, brushing the sweat off your brow, kissing your head, reminding you how strong you are.
After 12 hours of labor, Joseph finally makes his appearance in the world. A large baby, with fat cheeks and long limbs. After a few announcing cries, Joseph settles into the arms of his father, fast asleep after his long journey. Alfie rejoices with you, holding up his son with joy, "Joseph! My boy! Welcome my son!"
You smile, a final sense of relief washing over you, until you feel another push coming.
7 minutes later, Chava comes careening into Earth, as loud as the choirs of heaven. Alfie catches Chava, marveling at how such a little body can produce such a sound. As Alfie cleans her face he just whispers, "This one... she will be an opera star."
Alfie joins you in bed once everything is settled. You spend the rest of the evening in and out of sleep. When awake you and Alfie just take turns holding the babies, marveling in how precious they are. How absolutely beautiful they are. While you sleep, Alfie walks around the house with both in his arms, just talking to them.
“Now you might not know this yet my angels… but you have the absolute best mother in the world. No I know, I don’t know how I got to marry her. But she is perfect. The best. We gotta protect her yeah?”
Alfie is the one who gets up in the night. Doesn’t want you to do more than you have to. And you’re already doing so much. Plus, he feels like he missed so much already, waiting till he was older to have a family and all. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment.
Alfie becomes even more soft and tender with you. Each morning he starts his day worshipping you almost. Telling you how much he loves you, how much he loves your children, how much he would give to protect you.
But he does become more paranoid about the dangers surrounding him. There’s two men posted at the door of the house at all times now, and you aren’t to go anywhere without either him or another trusted member of the gang. Though you fought him on it at first, you relented when you saw the palpable fear in his eyes.
He loves to show off the kids. He’s just so proud. He loves how much they look like you. “Better for them eh treacle? Glad they got the more beautiful out of the two.”
And while they did favor your features, they both carried Alfie’s eyes. Both gentle Joseph and powerful Chava carry that roaring ocean behind those dark lashes that brought you to Alfie all those years ago.
As the years go by, you only grow to love each other more and more. And every risk and every trial is worth the beautiful dream you get to have with Alfie.
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reidwitchsblog · 5 months
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My Ticci Toby HC
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Warning: 18+ content, mention of dead animals, mention of people’s death, mention of scars, wrong use of punctuation marks.
Author’s note: While I take my sweet time writing the second part of my fict, enjoy this little headcanons that have been on my mind.
Author’s note 2: I created this playlist that basically captures everything you need to know about the way I hc him.
Minors DNI.
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PERSONALITY
His personality is, for a lack of better words, eerie. Most of the time he is silent and observant, and due to his past he doesn’t show his true personality often, but rather he morphs into a person that he thinks the others will like, it could be a mature young man, or a sarcastic little shit.
I believe that when he kills, he tortures his victims due to the fact that the concept of pain is foreign to him. He enjoys to try different torture methods
His biggest desire is to have a home. It is something he keeps a secret from others, not really because he is afraid of being made fun of, but rather because he feels that as long as no one knows, the fact that it’s never going to happen will hurt less. So he keeps that deep inside him, in a safe place, like a little photograph that he can take out and look when he is feeling down.
As much as he despises being angry (it reminds him of his dad), he can’t help it, he is his father’s son after all. When he gets mad, his first instinct is to bear his teeth and growl. And if the person he is fighting with doesn’t take the cue, he will attack, aiming for the throat as soon as he has the opportunity.
And talking about dogs, HE LOVES LIKE A HOUND DOG, once that he catch a scent that is appealing to him, there is nothing, and no one, that’s able to stop him. He is going to chase it until he has it in his maw, without very little regard as to whether he is hurting himself.
PHYSICAL
I see many people saying that my man is the shortest one out of all proxies, but, respectfully, I think they are wrong. He just gives me tall man vibes, HOWEVER, I think his poor posture makes him stand at 6’0, when he normally is 6’2, which comes really handy when he wants to scare his victims.
We all agree that he has the most beautiful light brown eyes, they are like pools of honey, warm and inviting, which contrast massively with the scowl he seems to permanently wear.
Although he is more on the skinny side, he has gained some muscles over the years due to all the physical work he does; chopping wood, running around, carrying his victims… sadly he covers them with either flannels or grandpa sweaters.
Still on the topic of grandpa sweaters, he looooves them, mainly because they remind him of his late sister, whose last Christmas present were two brown and green sweaters. His to go outfit is a short sleeved band shirt, a flannel, a pair of dark denim jeans, his old shearling jacket and and a pair of black Converse. When he is alone is his cabin he opts for a wife beater and a pair of flannel pajama pants.
His whole body is covered in scars, most of them being self inflicted, and fewer being the ones made by his bravest victims that naively thought that a knife would’ve stopped Toby from killing them. He doesn’t hate them per say, he even thinks some of them are cool, but in the coldest nights, when he is alone with his thoughts, he can’t help but to despise every single part of his body, including his scars.
RANDOM HC
He has a small collection of various trinkets hidden in a wooden box beneath his bed. Some of them are old photos with his sister, rocks that he thought they were pretty, keychains that he stole from different gas stations, etc. At first glance it would look just like a pile of crap, but I can assure you everything has a reason to be there.
He was born in Germany but moved to South Carolina when he was 5.
He enjoys listening to music, his favorite genre is old rock. The Rolling Stones, Queen, Van Morrison, Fleetwood Mac, Bon Jovi, Blondu… his favorite song is “Brown eyed Girl” and you can’t change my mind.
He is the softest person when it comes to animals, he feels so bad when he finds any dead animal near the road, and he always gives them a proper burial, he even says some words along the lines of “the world was cruel to you when all you wanted was some warmth”. He so cried with the poem about spiders.
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⋆。°✩ — ©️ reidwitchsblog, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.
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I know requests are closed but I looooved the Jaehyun as a sugar daddy thing - can you do one for Johnny when requests open again?
Yes requests are closed but... it's Johnny like... come on
Minors DNI
"I bought you that already? I kinda feel like I bought you that." Because he just buys you whatever and isn't necessarily fussy about keeping score.
Spoils you rotten but also has a barter system
"Okay so you said you wanted to learn how to read music. I got you a music teacher. You want those shoes? Prove it.
Invested in an in-home photo studio so he can take nasty ass pictures of you for his personal art collection
Is in love with you and is definitely not bashful about it
"So uh... I'm traditional I guess but if you don't want people calling you my trophy wife when I marry your ass because I'm gonna marry you, you can like... get a job or something? Only if you want to. You know I got you."
Big on cock warming during phone conferences
"I promise they can't see you, babe. The camera isn't on. Come on, sit down like a good girl."
Loves bringing you to charity events and business conventions and fucking you in random places like in the restrooms or in empty conference rooms
Bought you a clone-a-willy as a joke but you still use it when he's away
Likes that you look at him like he's an entire universe
Doesn't like that people put him on a pedestal because he's rich
But he loves that you practically worship the ground he walks on because he knows you mean it
Doesn't make you call him daddy in public
Y'all are equals in public but if you call yourself stepping out of line, when you get home... it's game over
"You say you love me and you value our time together but somehow you counted five orgasms... how is that?"
He has cute nicknames for you that he doesn't say too loudly in public because he hates the idea of people seeing you as anything less than the powerful Queen that you are
He's sure to whisper any degrading or fluffy things to you
"Are you ready go home yet, Button? Daddy's bored."
"Wanna go home so I can tear this dress off of you? It's so expensive but it is just so... flimsy. I bet I could tear it off in one go. Bet on it?"
You both would proceed to bet his money
And he'd tear it off in one go just like he said he would. Like you both knew he could.
He's a classy gym rat
He loves working out in his home fitness room while you watch.
Measures his gym progress on how easily he can toss your ass around
"See how strong daddy's getting, Button? And you're getting flimsier... just like that dress."
Is either the most passionate and tender guy in bed or he's the spawn of satan and laughs when you're crying and fucked out but begging him to keep going
"God... why are you such a slut? Huh? Can you even answer me right now or are you too dumb and fucked out to form a coherent sentence?"
Aftercare king
"Good girl, Button. How are you feeling?"
Did he beat someone's ass for calling you a gold digger? Did he fire people for gossiping about you? Did he pay to have your picture up on a Times Square billboard because he knew you'd see it? Those are all rumors.
You're his person and he's not afraid to say it or beat it into anyone's brain
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39confetti · 1 year
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Uncanny Valley Napping headcanon
John Doe :
-Doe will NEVER refuse a nap with you, how could he miss an opportunity to be next to you, no, glued to you???
-Where do you wanna nap ? on the bed ? The couch ? THE FLOOR ?? He’ll accept anything if he can be by your side !
-When you are finally laying together, he turns into a blushing mess, and he has a hard time managing his excitement.
-One thing’s for sure, he hug you tight, maybe TOO tight at first, but can you blame him ? He’s so excited about the idea of sharing this moment with you.
-Doe absolutely loves being the little spoon, just feeling your arms around him is such a special thing to him, but he also likes being the big spoon too. If there's physical contact, he is satisfied.
-His body is warm, very hot, sometimes it makes you sweat. During summer, napping with him is hard, but during winters, it's a blessing. Doe is your personal hot water bottle.
-If you place your head against his chest, you can hear a kind of purring… Your regular guy is secretly a cat ?
-Careful, there’s no way to get out of his grip, when he’ll hold you, he won’t let you go that easily.
-Waking up next to him is always a strange experience… Because Doe doesn’t sleep when you nap. He just looks at you with his big loving eyes.
-Sometimes, his face is so close to yours that it scares you, but he finds it cute. Doe loooove seeing you being frightened.
Maison Talo :
-Maison doesn’t understand why you need to nap but… He’ll accept the treat.
-He’ll insist on napping at the beautiful house he’s selling right now ! The couch is absolutely divine, and it’ll give you a boost of energy (if you ever wake up from that nap)
-Honestly, he never thought you'd sleep next to him. (after all, his plan was to eat you) Yet, here he is with you between his arms.
-Maison truly wants to take this opportunity to swallow you whole, but he just can’t… Why ? He asks himself this question too…
-He prefers to be the big spoon, the idea of you sleeping so peacefully while he is fully awake makes his stomach tickle. Oh yes, he could totally eat you… If you want him to be the little spoon, he’d feel a bit humiliated. But he’d feel even more embarrassed when he’ll realize that he actually enjoys being the little spoon.
-Maison is… Kind of cold for a person ? His house tho, is wayyy too hot inside. That’s weird, it’s almost as if Maison’s body was corpse or something like that...
-He won’t eat you right now... But why ? Well cause walking around the city searching for potential meals is kind of tiring. So, unlike Doe, he’ll actually nap with you without realizing it.
-When he sleeps, there is no breathing coming from him. Yet if you open your eyes, you can see the wall moving softly, and you’ll feel a small breeze coming in and out of the house.
-You always wake up before him, in fact, his naps feels like his full sleeping time. Poor old man is tired.
-So you get out of his house, leaving him a kind word on a piece of paper, and a small kiss on his forehead.
-When he wakes up, he feels like a fool. He missed ANOTHER opportunity to feed himself. One day, he'll do it. H̶͐̌͜e̷̳̜̽'̶̲̍l̶̩̱̇l̸̺̰͐̓ ̷̛̗̦̅d̸̝̾e̴̛̤̎v̷̞̰̆o̸̙̜̍̾u̴͎̅r̷̋͑ͅ ̷̳͛ẙ̵̬ͅŏ̷͓̬ṷ̷͘.̸̭̞́͐
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karinasbaby · 1 month
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your reblog !! haven’t used tumblr in a hot minute and realized i couldn’t respond right back as a direct comment 😕 but i’m sending a message in ur inbox because don’t we all love getting those?
i’ve made a mental note to go through your list of works (including the one you just posted!) because i loooove your writing style and the ideas you bring to the table. i also enjoy giving feedback in the form of long post comments because it feels right to be vocal about how much i love certain things. i also think jay should personally ask me for my number so we can get the ball rolling 🤩
anyway i adore you equally and hope you’ve been having a very good week <3
MY SWEETEST JOSEPHINE HIIII :D !! <3 you’re always welcome in my inbox baby !! you’re so right we all do love getting those😭🫶🏼
pls you’re actually making me giggle and laugh like a crazy girl rn like wdym you’re gonna read all of them (im so nERVOUSSS) i will for sure be looking forward to ur reactions :0 !! and i really really hope that u enjoy them !! thank u so so much for ur sweet and kind words baby they mean so much to me :( thank u for enjoying my writing and all the random and questionable ideas that i have i appreciate this so so much my love !! and me & u are on the same boat when it comes to giving feedback in the form of long comments ! personally i have a passion to yap continuously with no intentions of stopping especially when it comes to my friends’ works (as u can tell by the way i can’t stfu about hana rn🙏🏼) and i love love love reading feedback in the form of long comments they never fail to make me feel so warm bcs they’re always so sweet 😭 and i’ll be texting jay as soon as possible to ask for ur number baby i’ve got you 💪🏼 i genuinely can’t wait to start yapping about ur works now ESPECIALLY the hee fic i saw u post that’s gonna be a whole feast 🙏🏼 and pls do add me in ur sunghoon smau that i will be catching up on the moment i’m free bcs i’ve been wanting to read it for ages now !!!
again, thank you so much for taking time of ur day to send me this sweet ask that i’ll cherish :( sending u so so much love baby and i hope u have an incredible day ! week ! month ! & year !! love u so so much baby sending u so many hugs & kisses :] !! ♡♡
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colecassidys-wife · 1 year
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☁︎ — rain's notes: this was done on behalf of a friend who loves Mirage! I plan to write for Seer later...
"I don't think I'm seeing an illusion this time."
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General dating headcanons for Elliott Witt
notes: GN!Reader, Elliott being a dork
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Elliott is such a dork around you, and honestly, it's very sweet. It's obvious to everyone around him just how much he adores you, yes! He talks about you so much to his fans— though, whether he says your name or keeps you anonymous is completely dependent on whether you want the publicity in a very public way. Elliott respects your decision regardless.
Elliott adores giving you affection— from loads of kisses, to snuggling you when you both get a break from the games, it's something he enjoys doing. Perhaps it's because you actually love him, so he shows his happiness through making sure you always feel loved. Likewise, however, Elliott adores receiving affection in turn. If you kiss him anywhere, he'll be happy and try not to act flustered, but his stutter significantly amps up.
Elliott loves to impress you, and I mean he LOOOOVES to impress you. Having his s/o feed into his ego makes him feel over the moon. Seeing your charmed smile, the shine in your eyes, or just receiving praise from you works wonders for him. If anything, Elliott more or less tries to impress you in the relationship he has with you— something about kissing your hand in such a gentlemanly way and having you react in a flustered-ish manner makes Elliott feel so...
Elliott laughs as you bury your face into his neck, face warm from embarrassment. He'd placed a kiss on your cheek while picking you up and spinning you around as a 'hello' when he finished his recent participation in the games. Elliott had won, so it's only natural he's boasting about his win. What really gets him going, though, is the way you praise him for his win.
"You were so cool, Elli!" You giggle and pat his head once you recovered from your boyfriend's affections. He seemed to get sheepish for a moment— you thought he was cool, and you were patting his head! He must've won an extra prize to receive such love from you, yes? Well, no, you're just proud, though, Elliott sees your praise and impressment as a reward for him. He expresses his appreciation with a joyful laugh. "I-I know I was!!...Though, I'm sure you cheering me on a-also helped, as always~..."
Elliott, even if his ego is about as big as his ass, cares about you a lot— and he might not say it verbally, but it shows in his actions. Tender grips on your hips, securing an arm around your waist, drawing you away from crowds when you feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, or just downright tired are just a few ways that Elliott shows he cares about you.
Elliott is no short of jealous. He definitely is touch starved and yearns for affection— with most of his family gone and his mother having her memory fade more and more, it's natural to assume he'd be clingy. You love him, and you've had to reassure him many-a times, yet he can't help but feel a pang in his chest when someone else flirts with you or gets close to you. Elliott knows you won't leave him, he just...sometimes the thoughts happen.
There's no mirage evident in the way Elliott loves you. It's never a farce, it's never a ploy, it's not something for his own personal gain— Elliott loves you through and through, why would he lie to you? As much as Elliott is insecure and needs his reassurance, he wouldn't hesitate to reassure your worried thoughts and such. Loving, tender kisses, bundling up and watching a movie together, and keeping you close...he loves you, he loves you more than words can convey.
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bejeweled-night-33 · 1 year
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𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 (𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐦) 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 🍎💚(Moriarty the Patriot)
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Author's note: Since there's a bit of a lack of Billy material, I decided to write something myself. Hopefully I made justice to him as a charcater. Also, english is not my first language, so please bear with me! Feedback, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Hope you enjoy this :)
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Billy is very affectionate! Even though I think he's mostly an acts of service type of person, he shows affection in multiple ways. Wether is physical affection, acts of service or spending time together, he makes sure you get his attention and feel loved in a way that is comfortable for you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
A friendship with Billy is thrilling. From deep conversations, to exploring mysterious places, to helping you conquer your fears, to laughing, creating cullinary disasters, maybe even getting in trouble...he's quite versatile so there's never a dull moment alongside him.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He enjoys a good cuddle, in fact, cuddles are a must, especially when he's tired or feeling thoughtful. The place doesn't matter that much to him, but his favorite location is in front of a bonfire or a fireplace where you both can just relax, talk, stare at the flames and feel warm in each other's arms.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Billy is self-sufficient and independent. His cooking hability is decent enough to get by and enjoy his meals. He is fond of home-made stuff, so he'd be thankful and moved if you're a good cook. The same goes with cleaning, he does whatever is needed to live in a healthy and practical enviroment, although sometimes he's not in the mood to be tidy.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
A word that comes to mind is solemn. Altough sometimes this trait of his can go unnoticed, Billy is thoughtful and rational when he needs to be, and if he sees no future in a relationship he'd rather be honest. He meets you in a place where is calm and comfortable enough to talk, like a walk in the park, then he'd explain his feelings and reasons. He hates to hurt you, but he knows it's for the best. He's also the kind of person whose fondness and respect for the people he's been with doesn't really fade, as in, if you ever need something or if you get in trouble he'd be there for you even after a long time.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He's not in a rush nor in a quest for eternity, but that doesn't mean he's not loyal nor that he's insensitive. Formal arrengements can wait for now -moslty because of his lifestyle- but his heart commits even against his will when someone swepts him off his feet.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Despite his adventurous and daring personality, Billy knows how to be both physically and emotionally gentle, although there are times he can lose control a little bit, for example when he's having way too much fun, like in play fights or if he teaches you how to use a gun. But don't worry, he's a keen observer too, so if he notices something is wrong he'll stop inmediately and ask if you're ok.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He looooves hugs! He greets you with a quick yet strong hug. He's aware of the uncertainty of life, so hugs serve him as a reminder to feel things and seize the day, so to speak. He sinks in the feeling and memorizes your shape, your scent, even the smallest caress.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He spits the L-word at the most random time(s). You'd be talking about any topic, like what kind of ice cream is your favorite or you both could be running away from bandits and suddenly he gets a weird look on his face and interrupts the moment just to say I love you, followed by one of those adorable closed-eye smiles he does.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Billy can get jealous, and he tries so hard to rationalize his jealousy every time. Someone flirts with you? He tells himself: ''Well, yeah, that person is right, they look amazing lately!''. But if the person crosses the line or if you feel uncomfortable he steps in immediately.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
This also is a time where he could forget how to be gentle. Billy's an avid and unpredictable kisser. He can iniciate make-out sessions at any time, and at unconventional places. He gets caught up in the moment very easily. He'll push you against a wall and run his hands over your body. He likes to feel your hands running through his neck and hair, and lowkey likes it when you make a mess out of it. But he can also be reserved and sweet, kissing the back of your hand and your forehead. He likes to recieve ocassional soft pecks on the lips.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He can get along with children and make them feel comfortable (for a few hours). But having his own? The answer goes in hand with the commitment mentioned in letter F: he doesn't oppose to the idea of having a family and settleling down, but he thinks of it more as a distant dream than a goal.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He is surprisingly talktative. He stays in bed for a few minutes holding you close and tells you about what he dreamt of and about what he'll do for the rest of the day. I picture him getting up early and going to the market to get some fruit. Boy needs his fruit.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He's still talktative, but at this time he'd rather ask how your day went and focus on you, he's grateful he gets to share a little intimacy and share experiences with you. He'd look to relax: maybe cooking dinner together or running a warm bath for both.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He is pretty reserved, especially at the beginning of any relationship. He reveals things slowly and according to the flow of the connection you have with him, for example, if he gets reminded of something that happened in his childhood because of something you said, he'd tell you, but otherwise he'd take his time. However, if you reveal things about yourself, he'd trust you easily.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
I think Billy was quite impatient and lost his temper easily in the past, but as he grew older he learned that some things just take time, and some things don't work as you always wish. Sometimes he still fights to quell his anger, but it doesn't get the best off of him anymore.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers a lot! Especially personality traits, more so than other type of preferences. Similarly to Sherlock, he observes people and deduces things about them. When it comes to you, he's be very observant of your facial expressions and your reactions to everything, he thinks is the cutest thing ever how your gaze grows soft when you see something you like, or how you furrow your eyebrows when he teases you.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
For him, one of his favorite things about a relationship is being able to learn from each other through sharing experiences and creating memories together, and thus, to look back into these things with love and admiration. One of his favorite memories is how you two met.
[A small scenario for this: You met Billy during a morning walk. You noticed the blonde young man struggling to help a dog that was choking. He was sticking his hand in the dog’s snout, which wasn’t very effective. That’s when you intervened and tried a different method. After the incident, you both calmed down the dog, which eventually led to a very long conversation between you two…and the rest is history, now you also share custody of the dog :)]
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Billy is very, VERY protective (see chapter 70, page 31). He will never hesitate to step in and take arrows, bullets or whatever in order to care for his loved ones, or for a bigger purpose than himself. He is very selfless -even foolish- when it comes to these things. He believes he can take care of himself, but he becomes his own enemy when he over-thinks and worries about things out of his control, so if you listen to his burdens and explain to him that he can rely on others too and that he can’t save everyone by himself, he’d be thankful for you and at peace with his own self.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Billy really tries to understand you as a person and pay attention to the things you like, and even if he can’t grasp someone’s taste or personality right away, he always tries to make something special and/or be helpful. 
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He can be a little strong headed when getting his point across in an argument if he believes enough in his ideal. He can also be a bit over-silly and such a tease in serious moments, which gets him in trouble sometimes. When tired, he is very lazy and messy.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He isn’t overly concerned with his looks or with being very fashionable, however, he knows how to look put together and presentable. He intends to make his look practical and comfortable. He also believes his charisma can sometimes speak louder than his attire. 
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
As it’s been stated before Billy is very independent, so I don’t think ‘’incomplete’’ is a word he’d use to describe the lack of a person. However, he grows a very strong attachment to people very easily, so I think that without you it would be more like yearning for the comfort and joy you provide to his life.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He’s a fantastic singer, especially when drunk. He’s completely unaware of this skill btw.  
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Lack of depth, ideals or purpose in life. His personality can make him seem careless, but he’s really not. I think he’d dislike someone insensitive as well. 
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
Because of his job/lifestyle, Billy is used to sleeping in all sorts of environments and conditions, so his sleep is overall heavy. There are two options: he either sleeps like a log, holding you so tight that you can’t move or moves a lot and wakes up in the most random and weird position, like, why are you on the floor sir? Why is your foot on the wall?
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ohifonlyx33 · 1 year
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A movie pitch for a Christmas movie with adult Kevin McAllister ...Call it "Home Alone Together" or something
OK so Home Alone is probably my generations #1 Christmas movie.
But I just want the a new movie with Macauley Caulkin as Kevin McAllister, taking the franchise somewhere new but gloriously cliche in the most self-aware and genuine way. It's still fun, it's still Christmas. It's still sincere. But now a movie about an adult Kevin, moving out of the Slapstick Family Comedy Genre and veering into the Hallmark Holiday Genre. The two are not so incompatible if you think about the sentimental moments Kevin and his mom have in the original movies.
We open the movie seeing where Kevin is at in his life. He's made a lot of money from some startup company or something. Maybe he invented his own version of a Security Camera Doorbell, but he sold it to Ring and now lives off a passive income stream or something. He's in his late 30's, single, cynical, and struggling. He is bored and disillusioned. The magic is gone and he is alone because of a deep-seated fear of abandonment that even caused him to push his fiancé away until she broke off their engagement (he never told her the details of why he hates Christmas... or what he did to the Wet Bandits). That was two years ago, and he hasn't dated since. He still has some PTSD from his multiple encounters with the Wet Bandits (what they tried to do to him scares him, but what he did to them haunts him). The child who once loved Christmas now dreads and fears it. Every year the family tries to reach out to him, but he ignores them, like they ignored him.
This year they all plan to come to his house, so like a sane, well-adjusted person he just... puts his house on the market a week before Christmas, packs up his stuff, and leaves to buy a house in a quaint little village called Brighton, Michigan (it's a real town apparently and it's EXACTLY what I had in mind).
The tone shifts away from the opening of every Home Alone Movie Ever (aka "the McAllister's are Making Holiday Plans and how does Kevin feel about that?") into Hallmark territory. (aka "Moody City Character Moves to Small Town").
Anyway, I think you can see where this is going... Enter his romantic interest, played by his real life partner Brenda Song of Suite Life fame. Let's call her Joy Leigh just to be unsubtle.
Joy is a sweet, warm, loving woman who runs the inn where he is staying while his new house is being renovated. And it's Christmas. She LOOOOVES Christmas, but this year is hard because it's the first one without her parents and this her first time running the inn by herself. She needs help understanding how to run the business of things... something she will come to learn Kevin is well-equipped to help her with. Hint, hint. ;)
Despite his cynical and grumpy demeanor, they have some good repartee. Joy wants to learn his story and help cheer him up. But as he starts to warm up to her, he sees her own sadness and wants to cheer her up. He starts helping her with finances. She asks about his family. They commiserate over missing the joy of a holiday they once loved... They start to really connect. Maybe even have a bit too much wine, get lost in the moment, and kiss.
Meanwhile his entire family is looking for him and trying to find out where he went. Joy accidentally answers a phone call and it happens to be Kevin's mom... and anyway she gives away a little too much before she realizes what she's done.
Kevin is upset. She tells him "Yeah, I shouldn't have done that. But it's not like you have to be alone. You chose to be alone because you're scared of being left alone again. Don't do that to yourself. Not when you still have people who love you."
Then we learn that a couple of background guests at the inn (whom we've seen Joy interact with despite Kevin's mild suspicions) have actually been casing the place (would it be too on-the-nose if they were twins brothers? or maybe just one of the Sprouse brothers and a female accomplice?).
At this point the tone of the movie shifts back into home alone territory for a bit. It's an escape and survive scenario. The other couple staying at the inn is also in danger... they're locked up and held hostage. These aren't just regular thieves. They enjoy violence. They're doing this for the sadistic fun of it.
It starts out with Joy freaking out and Kevin saving her, naturally slipping into survival mode, looking for the nearest clothes iron, going full MacGyver, etc. But he's scared to actually commit to it. As Joy sees him trying to choose between fight or flight, and as her shock wears off, she starts to actively help him. "You were a kid trying to survive. You made it into a game to cope with the situation. Those people, and these people now, they are the ones that chose to hurt other people. Now we have to do whatever we can do to stop them." Then she explains that they just need to get to the front desk where she keeps her gun for self-defense.
But when they are outwitted by the criminals, Kevin is NOT having it. They had the upperhand after a week of casing the place (while he was making moon-eyes at Joy, no less). The gun is gone. The phone lines are cut. After some confrontation Kevin lets himself get taken so Joy can escape.
But she knows this inn better than they EVER could. And she, in turn, launches a full-on assault against the criminals to save Kevin. Turns out she and Kevin are cut from the same crazy cloth. 😍
The movie ends with his WHOLE family finding them in the nick of time and asking Kevin if he would please just move back to the city. No. He's going to stay and help run the inn and improve the security. With Joy.
"When I was a kid," he tells Joy in front of his mother, "I hated having a big family and lots of people around. I thought I wanted to grow up and live alone. So I tried that. Turns out, it's not so great after all. I can't go back..."
"So what will you do?"
"Well, I was thinking... I really like it here." (They share a knowing glance.)
"Well, I know someone who needs some help running a business. She could probably use better security too." Joy says.
"Will you at least come to Christmas dinner?" Kevin's mom asks.
No. But there is room at the inn, and they are more than welcomed to have a nice quiet Christmas dinner here with him and Joy.
In the end, Kevin makes peace with his past. He accepts that his family truly does care about him, though it may be hard for him to see them often. But he learns that it's not good to push people away when they are trying to have a good relationship. He learns to move past his traumas and open up to someone. And Joy gets to spend Christmas with his family since she doesn't have her own. Everyone is happy.
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magicshopaholic · 1 year
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Melbourne (Taehyung x Dilara)
Summary: Dilara tries navigating her days with her ex-boyfriend back in her life, while Taehyung remains plagued by memories of their past.
Pairing: Taehyung x OC
Genre: Angst, minor fluff, mentions of smut
Word count: 22.8 K
Rating: 18+ (for language and themes)
Warnings: crass language, mentions of sex, heartbreak, alcohol, smoking, anxiety
A/N: This one's going to hurt. Mentions of Namjoon and Kaya, and Jimin and Sooah.
Sidenote: A certain real-life idol is mentioned in this fic and isn't portrayed in the best light; it's unfortunate, but back when I first outlined this fic, I didn't know any other girl groups and hers was the only name that came to mind. That being said, it is fiction and obviously nothing here reflects my personal opinions about real people (in short: I love her and her group). I thought this would be obvious but these are sensitive times and people loooove reading into things that don't exist so here's the disclaimer to hopefully prevent that.
I also have absolutely no opinion on any rumours or anything that may or may not be making the rounds about her. Now that that's done, enjoy!
Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet, @k-radio (drop a message if you want to be added)
Listen to: “did you/fall apart” by prateek kuhad
taehyung masterlist | main masterlist
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Ischia, Italy; December (One month in) (Taehyung)
A cool breeze blew and Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair, welcoming the feeling against his slightly sweaty skin. It was supposed to be chilly; it was winter after all, and everything he’d read up about Ischia before making all the bookings said that while it wouldn’t be a typical snowy winter, it wouldn’t be this warm either. It was the last detail that fell into place before he’d emailed everything to Dilara, awaiting her reaction when she’d find out how he intended to whisk her away to a picturesque, off-the-radar island the moment her season ended.
Don’t you think you should ask her first? What if she doesn’t like Italy?
He’s right, actually. Couples should be making these decisions together… right?
Taehyung had dismissed Jungkook’s concerns immediately, followed by Jimin’s addition. It’s a surprise, he’d explained to them, stopping himself somehow from rolling his eyes. The entire point is to not tell her. And she loves Italy, he’d added. It’s winter and she doesn’t like the cold; it’s perfect.
His friends hadn’t looked too convinced but Taehyung didn’t care. He knew his girlfriend and he knew what she liked, and when he’d turned out to be completely correct on every account, his smugness had been impossible to mask.
Dude, we weren’t challenging you, Jimin had said, eventually getting annoyed. Taehyung suspected his status of limbo with Sooah, once again making its predictable appearance, was contributing to his bad mood. Couples usually do this shit together, that’s all.
We’re not like other couples.
It was the one thing that had made both Jimin and Jungkook back off, because the scope to argue with that statement was borderline negligible. They weren’t like other couples. Other couples didn’t fall in love over a single weekend. Other couples didn’t find each other months later halfway around the world, only to still be just as drawn to each other. Other couples didn’t have everything thrown at them, from distance, to fame, to all sorts of insecurities, only to still find their way to each other.
As he watched her walk ahead of him, still humming the song from the pub they’d just left, he knew he was right.  Her thin black sundress blew lightly around her knees. We match, she’d said earlier that evening when he’d put on a thin black shirt that shimmered dimly in the light, tucked neatly into black slacks. Her sandals clicked against the paved road as she stumbled slightly. 
“Lara, be careful.”
He heard her chuckle before she turned around. “I am careful,” she said, walking backwards now. It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in him even as he grinned, for he knew how much wine she’d had tonight - how much they’d both had. Her cheeks, even though they didn’t blush, were flushed. Her eyes were bright and her collarbones and neck glowed under the streetlights, no doubt a result of the liquor, dancing and unseasonably warm weather. 
“Wait, I know this song.”
She stopped in her tracks and frowned, trying to place the faint music coming from a few alleys down, the same one they’d spent the entire night at. Taehyung continued walking until he reached her, amused at her deepening frown as he wrapped one arm around her waist before pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Is this Neil Diamond? Doesn’t sound like him… hang on, this is definitely in some movie…” Dilara continued guessing, her hands absently going up his arms as he moved his mouth towards her ear and down to her neck, lips ghosting over her dewy skin. Slowly, without fully realising it himself, he began swaying on the spot and keeping time with the song that he, too, found rather familiar.
“What are you - oh.” Her arms went around his shoulders and he felt her chin rest on it. She fingered the ends of his hair at the back of his neck and he nuzzled hers, inhaling her perfume, a vanilla scent, sweet and delectable, that made him want to softly bite at her skin.
“Is this Versace?” she murmured into the thin fabric of his shirt, her mind clearly on the same lines as his. 
“Dior,” he answered quietly, holding her closer now, feeling her small and toned torso in his arms. He’d waited for this for far too long, he thought, and getting this moment alone with her, on a quiet street tucked somewhere in the depths of Europe, was his reward. They were properly swaying now, the music sounding louder and clearer now that they were focusing on nothing else.
Taehyung knew this song, too. Like Dilara, he couldn’t put his finger on it, possibly because his head was pleasantly swimming with the wine they’d splurged on tonight. He could remember a few words here and there, though, not to mention the instrumentals… including when the saxophone solo began.
“What the fuck?” Dilara jerked backwards when Taehyung began loudly mimicking the saxophone, eyes closed and letting go of her to pretend he was playing one, until he finally caught sight of her face and burst out laughing. “Way to ruin a moment, Tae,” she muttered, rolling her eyes but letting him take her hand anyway.
“This is Bill Withers, by the way,” he said, having just remembered it.
“Yes! Just the Two of Us,” she exclaimed immediately, shoulders relaxing. “Thank God. That would’ve kept me up all night.”
“And that’s my job,” he agreed, pulling her into his arms again, this time more flowy with the movements. “Doesn’t this beat dancing in a hotel room in the middle of the night?” he murmured into her hair, smelling her fruity conditioner. The weather compelled her to wash her hair nearly every day, especially on the days they visited the beach.
Dilara laughed. “Of course it does, love,” she said indulgently, reaching up to kiss him. “The middle of an empty street is better than the Hilton.” She looked around as he spun her. “Isn’t it too empty, though? This place has been as busy as the paddock since we got here.”
“True. Maybe it’s too late?” Taehyung guessed, suddenly realising she was right. Ischia may have been the best place to get away from normal life, but it was packed with locals. Still, no one seemed to recognise either of them, even when they walked hand in hand down the streets in broad daylight. It made spending time together a lot easier, though, so he wasn’t complaining.
“Yeah, probably,” she murmured, closing her eyes at another gust of cool breeze that made goosebumps erupt on her bare shoulders. “We haven’t been out this late so far.” She gave him a coy smile. “Although, I wouldn’t have minded staying at that concert last night a while longer.”
“Really?” His grip on her waist tightened. “At the concert or in the alley behind it?”
Dilara bit her lip, her mind no doubt revisiting the excursion they’d had the previous night after a particularly raunchy rendition of Body Language that had everyone in the bar on their feet. In a haze of boldness from the alcohol, the adrenaline and the anonymity, they’d sneaked out of a back door and into the crevices of the alley behind the bar to succumb to their desires. With the threat of being caught looming over them, they’d fucked in a heated passion in nothing but muffled screams and quiet grunts.
“Both,” she answered after a moment, shrugging, but Taehyung wasn’t fooled. “Do you want to open that Bordeaux tonight?” she asked, stepping away from him and skipping a few steps down the road. “I’m not tired at all, weirdly.”
“That is weird,” he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he followed her. “But it’s a good idea. We can catch the sunrise.”
“That sounds perfect.” She smiled back at him and his heart skipped a beat, just before she tripped on something.
“Shit,” he muttered, hurrying up to her as she winced and inspected her foot. “Are you okay? I told you to be careful, Lara.”
“I was,” she insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder as she unbuckled her heeled sandal. “It’s these stupid shoes… there, that’s better.” Both her shoes dangling from one hand, she gingerly took a couple of steps before sighing in relief. “All good. Come on.”
“Come - are you going to walk all the way to the villa without your shoes on?” Taehyung asked, a bit incredulously.
“Tae, it’s about five minutes from here. I’m not made of glass, you know.”
“No, but there could be actual glass on the road,” he argued, still standing in the same spot as he watched her saunter away. “Lara, seriously?”
“Seriously, I’m going to get started the moment I reach the villa,” she said, turning her head to give him a look as she continued walking, “whether you’re there or not.”
He watched her continue for another moment before jogging after her, darting in front of her and making her halt to a stop.
“Jesus, Tae! Do you want me to trip - what’s happening?”
Taehyung, now down on one knee, looked up at her seriously. “I’m terribly sorry, my lady,” he said loftily, puffing his chest out dramatically, “but I cannot let you continue through these woods.” He watched her confusion morph into understanding, and forced himself to keep a straight face as she tried and failed to suppress her own smile.
Shaking her head, she eventually relented and placed a hand on her chest. “That’s very gallant of you, my lord. But you needn’t worry. I know these woods like the back of my hand.” She moved to walk but he grabbed her wrist.
“Uh, it’s prince, actually,” he corrected quickly. “But I’m afraid you might hurt yourself if you continue on this treacherous path without your shoes on, my lady.”
“My lord is kind. But it’s not a long walk and I have seen far more dangerous things in my lifetime of war.”
“Prince. Also - war? I have fought in more battles than you can count, my lady. I have faced the kingdoms of MAMA and the Grammys. You shouldn’t take me lightly.”
“I have been a prisoner in the castles of Mercedes and Ferrari, my lord, not to mention the wrath I face in the factories of Red Bull against the evil commander, Max Verstappen.” Her lips twitched.
“Uh-huh. Well, not only is my lady refusing to call me prince, but she’s also ignoring me while I’m on my knees for her.”
“My lord rarely passes up an opportunity to get on his knees for me.”
Taehyung grinned. “Is that a no?”
Dilara swept past him, the hem of her dress brushing the side of his face. “That’s a no, my lord. In fact, I would also say that - oh, my God, Tae!” she shrieked as her feet were suddenly swept off the ground. 
“You dare address the prince by his name?” he demanded, tugging her closer. Dilara gasped again and tightened her arms around his neck, peering down at the road over his shoulders with wide eyes. “I’m afraid you left me no choice, my lady.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I hope my lord knows that if he drops me, Red Bull is going to come after him for some serious insurance payout.”
“Jinjja, I’m not going to drop you. My lady may be strong but she’s super light.”
“And you haven’t set foot in a gym your entire life so forgive me if I don’t trust you, my lord.”
“You can trust me. Look -” He proceeded to spin her around while she half-shrieked and half-laughed into his neck, just before he stumbled slightly on the road.
“Fuck! Tae, I swear if you drop me I’m going to shred your brown jacket.”
“Hey, I worked out for two whole weeks before the Vogue photoshoot in October,” he pointed out hotly, frowning when she rolled her eyes. Her shoes knocked lightly against his back as he continued walking, her warm frame pressed against him. For all her complaining, her arms still stayed locked around his neck and she hadn’t asked him to put her down even once. “And you’d really shred my jacket?”
“I would at least crumple it. My lord,” she added deliberately.
“Would it kill you to call me prince just once?”
“Yes. You’re not my prince.”
“What?” Taehyung halted in his tracks, eyes wide and disbelieving. “I’m not your prince?”
“You’re a prince. Probably,” she allowed seriously.
“But not yours.”
“No. I’m from a foreign land.”
He scoffed before considering it. “Huh. A foreign princess.” He flexed his shoulders before resuming walking. “Interesting. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, princess.”
Dilara raised her eyebrows as he grinned in pride at the new English word he'd just used. "My lord is so sexy," she murmured, tilting her head and nipping at his earlobe. "But don't call me princess, though. Ugh."
"Doesn't everyone in the media call you that?"
"Yes. And it's not a compliment."
He frowned. "Why does Daniel Riccardo call you that? I thought he was your friend."
"He is… that's the drivers' way of turning the media's nickname back on them, by turning it into a joke," she explained. "Almost all of them call me that and now the press can't use it without looking like idiots."
"Ah, knights protecting my lady's honour," he mused, spotting their villa in the distance. He slowed down slightly, tightening his arms around her. "That's supposed to be my job, though, no?"
"My lord lives in a faraway land, so I need to rely on the bravery of my fellow drivers," she pointed out playfully, brushing his bangs off his forehead. "I like your hair like this, by the way."
Taehyung nodded absently, his eyes still on her. "But my lady remembers her prince will come back." It came out almost like a question.
"Always," she confirmed immediately, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, his heart flipping in his chest. "But every couple needs their crew. Especially in our kind of situation."
He ignored this last bit. "We're not like other couples, though."
Dilara laughed, dropping her head back in the breeze, now seeming fully comfortable in his arms as they neared their villa. "True. I don’t know how many other couples can manage to pull all-nighters together in this many different timezones.”
"Not what I meant," he murmured, but the sight of her right now, happily buzzed and all his, prompted him to put everything else out of his mind. "Come on, my lady," he said as they neared the villa. "Your castle awaits."
Spielberg, Austria; September (Wednesday) (Dilara)
Dilara takes great care to avoid Taehyung after he brings her home from the paddock, specifically because now that the ice is broken, she knows he wants to apologise and get everything off his chest. For him, it’s just another tick mark in whatever ex-girlfriend twelve-step program he’s in. For her, it’s having to face the man who hurt her possibly more than anyone in her entire life. She has zero qualms about prioritising herself in this situation and, therefore, continues to remain locked up in her room for the rest of the weekend, knowing he isn’t as brazen yet to actually knock on her door and demand to talk to her.
The only two people who do are RM and Seokjin; the former because she thinks, as leader, he feels some kind of responsibility towards her since they live in the same house. He asks, fairly politely, if she needs anything, if her ankle is healing well - nothing related to the race or anything that might indicate a relationship beyond a professional one. It’s a dull pang at first, realising that this person she once looked up to genuinely has nothing to say to her, but later is a bit of a relief as Dilara doesn’t think she’d survive a heart to heart with RM.
Seokjin is far more confident, although when he talks, it’s with such genuine concern that you’d think she’s completely bedridden. When she tells him it’s just a sprain, he stays silent for a moment before disappearing and returning with a bright pink ice pack that has a strap attached to it, already filled with ice.
As for Taehyung, just being in the same room as him makes her chest hurt with sadness and humiliation, making every gesture of his feel hollow now that she knows it’s just a way for him to get over his own guilt.
Dilara skips Qualifying on Saturday, too depressed to care. Alex Albon is driving her car and it hurts more than she expected it to, so she snags a cup of ramen, nice and high in carbs, from a brand new box in the kitchen and decides to eat her feelings instead. She hesitates briefly, though; if she has to guess, the ramen is either Seokjin’s or Jungkook’s. While she’s staring at the box, contemplating, she hears a noise behind her and almost falls.
“Jesus,” she mutters, gripping the kitchen island to steady herself.
“You can have one,” says Suga, voice calm and steady as ever.
“Oh, I wasn’t -” Dilara clears her throat, mortified. “I was just… looking.”
For a moment he looks like he’s going to argue, but then he simply shrugs and rips open the packaging himself, taking out a bowl and filling it with hot water. The aroma of fresh, hot ramen is irresistible, even when he takes the bowl and heads back to the living room to join the others, giving her a nod as he passes her.
Rolling her eyes and cursing rappers, she takes a bowl.
On Sunday, Dilara goes to the paddock, but only because she knows the cameras will be there. If she doesn’t show up, the injury’s going to be hyped up to much more than it already is. She greets everyone, does an interview and heads into the Red Bull garage to watch the race with everyone else.
It’s not fun at all. The only saving grace, selfishly, is that Max isn’t doing great either. Brief engine issues mean he has to come in for an extra pit, lose some track position, and bitch about it on the radio. As the race continues, her mood sours even further, although she can’t be too obvious about it on camera. Her eyes meet Taehyung’s once or twice, too; only he, RM and Seokjin have shown up today and she gets the feeling her ex-boyfriend has filled the others in on her disappointment. While none of them talk to her, they watch the screens next to her, standing near her, and for a moment it feels like at least three people in the entire garage are here for no one but her.
When she reaches the house after the post-race interviews, she finds a box of cupcakes on her bed. There’s no note, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it’s from. Taking one from the box and almost moaning when she tastes the sugar, she deposits the box in the fridge, the first thing she’s put in there that aren’t her own frozen salads.
The last race of this triple header is in Austria, after which they get a week’s break before reuniting in Imola. They reach on Wednesday evening; Max is the only one who isn’t with them because he’s already dropped his stuff off and left the house. When Dilara furiously texts him, demanding to know where he is, he tells her he’s spending the night with his girlfriend Kelly and will be back in the morning. 
She takes the room next to him as usual, a small but nice one that opens up into the backyard. Her dinner, as usual, is had inside her room and consists of a multi-grain sandwich she picked up at the airport. She enjoys it as much as she can, knowing that now her ankle has healed, she’ll need to work it off tomorrow morning.
By ten pm, the entire house is silent, with the lights off and everyone asleep. The jetlag and schedules, she presumes, have hit everyone equally hard and after sneaking out to the kitchen to get a drink of water, Dilara heads back to get some shuteye of her own. She’s just closing her bathroom door behind her when she hears it. 
Knock knock. 
Dilara freezes. Having lived in big cities all her life, with neighbours and people around her, she’s never quite understood how people live in areas like this, where a scream might reach no one. The knocks continue at the same pace, quiet and firm. Deliberate. She wonders if anyone else in the house can hear it; for once, she’s glad she’s living in a house with seven men.
She frowns when the sound doesn’t stop. Then -
“Dilara.”
Her heart is in her mouth. She turns slightly to see a silhouette in her window and almost screams. Holding her breath, she inches towards her suitcase and retrieves her pepper spray before approaching the window cautiously. The curtains are blowing lightly in the breeze and she flexes her muscles, hoping to have some sort of strength advantage. Silently counting to three, she rips the curtains open and points the pepper spray at the figure, only to be met by a blur of gold and a shriek.
“What -” Dilara rushes to the window sill to see him groaning as he stands up, arms blocking his face. “Jimin?”
“What the hell?” he exclaims. “Are you crazy?”
“Me? Are you crazy?” Her heart still hasn’t returned to its normal speed. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you knock on my door like a normal person?”
“Because you won’t answer,” he retorts, looking extremely annoyed, blond hair ruffled and pink lips in a pout. 
She doesn’t want to admit he’s right, so she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “So you call. Or you take the hint.”
“I tried. It keeps going to voicemail,” he informs her, looking rather like he knows why.
“That’s right, because I blocked you,” she says forcefully, regretting it a little when he winces. “Jesus… I was about to use pepper spray on you, Jimin! What would your fans say if your pretty little face was ruined because you were too much of an idiot to use a fucking door?”
Jimin smirks. “As long as you think I’m pretty” he quips, looking truly angelic.
She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat spreading to her cheeks. “Goodnight, Jimin,” she says dryly, moving to pull the curtains back but he stops her.
“Can you -” He sighs, smirk fading. “Can you come outside?” he asks nervously.
“Can I -” Dilara can’t believe the audacity. “Are you serious? It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s ten o’clock.”
She ignores this. “And it’s… cold. Ish,” she amends, belatedly noting his thin t-shirt and her own tank top.
Jimin doesn’t give up. “Dilara, jebal,” he whines, all hints of nervousness gone now. “Please come outside? Please, please, please, please -”
“Fucking hell,” she mutters and hitches herself over the window sill to hop outside. When she notices the sparkling grin on his face, she holds up a hand. “Just to shut you up.”
“That’s okay,” he says happily, walking over to the gazebo in the backyard. He doesn’t enter it, though; he stops near the benches outside, the very ones she’d intended to do push-ups against tomorrow morning. There’s a backpack on the bench. Dilara keeps her distance, at least five feet behind him and stops when he does, turning around and looking much more sober than he has so far.
Wordlessly, he reaches into the bag and hands her a box. She frowns, hesitantly taking it. It’s a single cupcake, with pearly pink frosting on the chocolate cake. She sighs and looks up. “What’s -”
Silently, he hands her another box. This one’s slightly bigger; upon closer inspection, she finds it’s a box of cold brew coffee bags. “Jimin -”
Once again, she looks up to see his hand outstretched. The object in his hand this time is quite clear; it’s a wine bottle - a Cabernet, from what she can tell. She takes it slowly, balancing the other two boxes in one hand, and reads the label. Pinotage… She bites her lip, knowing there’s only one person in that house behind her who knows that this South African blend is her favourite.
When she looks up to ask Jimin, she almost expects to be met with him holding something else. This time, it’s a single red rose. He looks bashful, head bent low and looking up at her surreptitiously, as though anticipating a bad reaction. Even half a foot taller than her, he looks like a child who’s plucked a flower from a neighbour’s garden to give to his mother, not knowing what to expect.
Dilara sighs. “I’m out of hands,” she tells him. “What’s going on, Jimin?”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, softly, and when she hears his voice tremble, she knows what he’s apologising for. 
She can feel all vestiges of dryness and exasperation leave her face. Her eyes are filling with tears without warning; she can feel her vision getting blurry but she doesn’t want to cry right now. When she says nothing, Jimin continues.
“I’m sorry for everything,” he says softly, and she can hear the guilt in his voice. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I’m sorry I hid…” He swallows. “I’m sorry, Dilara. I’m really sorry.” His voice cracks on the last word.
Dilara is frozen to the ground. She hadn’t quite expected this from any of them; then again, Jimin was the only one to directly lie to her face. She searches for the anger she’s been harbouring all this while, but in the face of an actual apology, a real moment of regret, she finds that the anger is gone. 
She swallows and turns her head, feeling a tear roll down her face but having no free hands to wipe it away. She nods, not knowing what else to do, before turning slightly and setting the boxes in her hand down on the bench next to her. Realising his arm is still outstretched with the rose, she takes it from him, muttering a quiet thanks.
There’s a moment of silence before he takes a step towards her and she does, too, and the next moment she’s hugging the first BTS member she ever spoke to in her life. His fruity scent engulfs her and she finds herself subconsciously tightening her arms around his shoulders. 
This entire time, ever since she’d seen them at the fashion show in London, she’d envisioned various scenarios, mostly of her avoiding them, maybe screaming at Taehyung, and only forcibly talking to them. But this was one she’d hadn’t allowed herself to imagine, feeling rather like it was too much to hope for. She tries to hold on to that lingering anger, the hurt and betrayal she’d felt, but she can’t. Not when she’s finally gotten what she now realises she’d wanted all along.
They pull away and she tries to gather herself, noticing how Jimin subtly rubs his eyes before gesturing for her to sit next to him on the bench. She points to the boxes. “Is all that an apology?”
“Kind of,” he admits. “I didn’t want to show up… you know.” He waves his hands vaguely. “Empty-handed.”
“How did you know Pinotage is my favourite blend?” Dilara asks, carefully noting his reaction. “Or that Caffeta, a Japanese brand, is my favourite coffee?”
He doesn’t disappoint. He opens his mouth but freezes, eyes darting around. 
She sighs. “Jimin, is that stuff… is all of that from him?”
“From who?” he asks innocently, but she’s not fooled. She knows he caught the absence of the name and now he wants to make her say it.
She glares at him. “From my ex.”
He purses his lips before chuckling. “No… not exactly. I may have… what’s the word? Casually? Casually asked him for his opinion but… all that stuff is from me,” he promises, sounding slightly proud. “I really am sorry.” He reaches over and picks up the cupcake, offering it to her.
“Oh… I can’t have sugar on a race weekend,” she says, slightly apologetic because it’s only Wednesday and the race technically isn’t until Sunday.
He frowns. “You had it in Japan when we met,” he points out.
“It was my first time meeting you guys,” she reminds him in a low voice. “Of course I wasn’t going to say no.”
His eyes go wide. “That’s nice. I just got you one this time, though.”
Dilara is about to decline again but he looks so adorable - and so sorry - that she relents. “Fine, but only if you share.” 
“Oh, no, I can’t have sugar,” he says immediately. “We have a concert in a month.”
She gives him a look. “If I’m having sugar, so are you, Park Jimin.” 
Jimin pauses. “Do you want to just open the wine instead?”
“Sold. Do you have a wine opener?”
He brandishes the silver object in response and together, they pop the cork open in the middle of the backyard.
“Mm,” she sighs, placing her face close to the mouth and inhaling it. “Smells amazing. Do you have glasses?”
“Erm… no.”
Her eyes snap up to him. “You got an opener but no glasses?”
He looks mildly affronted before grabbing the bottle and taking a sip straight from it. “Does that work?” he asks, offering her the bottle.
Dilara’s about to decline before realising she has absolutely no reason to. “It does,” she mutters, taking a sip and wincing when the smooth, slightly oaky liquid hits her throat. “It’s chilled,” she notes.
“Of course it is. Who drinks warm wine?”
“People who actually care about wine like it at room temperature.”
“Good thing we’re not that classy.”
Dilara chuckles, even as she remembers an entire afternoon at an Italian vineyard that resulted in her and a certain ex-boyfriend getting drunk on tastings alone before purchasing four bottles of wine, including a delicious ‘82 Bordeaux. She hesitates for a moment before taking another swig, a longer one this time.
“So. How’s it going, Park Jimin?”
He raises his eyebrows. “We’re talking about me?”
“We’re definitely not talking about me.” She holds his gaze defiantly until he sighs.
“Fine. I’m doing good. What about you?”
“Just swell.”
“You know, you really have a more interesting love life than I do.”
She almost chokes. “It’s pretty non-existent right now.” The breeze blew a strand of hair in front of her face but she had no energy to brush it away. “Yours isn’t.”
Jimin narrows his eyes. “What do you know?” he asks suspiciously.
“Nothing. Just something about a certain classmate from high school who’s returned to your life?”
He stares. “I - how do you know that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Take a guess.”
For a moment it seems like he’s about to prod but then he simply exhales deeply and runs a hand through his fine blond hair. “There’s nothing to tell. We dated in high school, that’s it.”
“And?”
“And… then we broke up.” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, but she can tell his mood is souring. It gives her a grim sort of satisfaction, knowing she isn’t the only one embroiled in an unfortunate situation with an ex. “After debut.”
Dilara nods. “And now it’s…” 
“Now it’s… ah, what’s the word?” He clicks his tongue.
“Complicated?”
“Yeah.” There’s a brief silence during which both of them sit beside each other and quietly sip some more wine, the bottle passing between them in equal intervals.
"We're not… in that place," says Jimin after a few minutes, his voice clear in the quiet. "We haven't been in a long time."
It takes Dilara a moment to remember what he's talking about. "Do you want to be?" she asks after a moment.
He doesn't look at her. "No." After a moment he sighs. "I don't think it matters."
She raises her eyebrows. "Really? These grand gestures don’t work on her?" She points at the stuff between them on the bench.
He chuckles. "Yeah, no. Sooah is, like… beyond the grand gestures."
“Wow. That’s impressive. I mean… this is a pretty grand gesture,” she emphasises, raising the bottle in her hand halfway. “And you’re not even hitting on me.”
He winks and flashes her a smile. “Maybe I am hitting you.”
“Shut up.”
Jimin snorts, reaching for the bottle from Dilara as she fails to suppress a smile herself. The bottle is almost half empty now, and she can feel her head swimming pleasantly. Next to her, Jimin is humming something, his voice high and clear before he pauses.
“You know Taehyung would absolutely kill me if I ever actually hit on you, right?”
Dilara’s heart sinks, for they’ve arrived at the topic of Taehyung, even if it’s through a joking statement. It’s not wholly unexpected, but she doesn’t think she can handle any kind of conversation about her ex right now, especially with his best friend. When she doesn’t respond, Jimin hesitantly continues.
“I heard he found you when you got hurt.”
“You did, huh?”
“Yeah. He was pretty worried.”
"I'm sure he was."
"I guess anyone would be worried about someone they love getting hurt."
"Don't fuck with me, Jimin."
"I'm not."
She sighs. “Jimin, we’re not going to talk about him.”
For a moment she thinks he’s going to disagree or add something anyway, but she breathes a silent sigh of relief when he simply nods and passes the bottle back to her.
“But thanks,” she says after a few seconds. “For this.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
Dilara stares into the bottle, able to make out nothing but darkness inside it. She’s glad she isn’t holed up in her room anymore; it feels incredible to be able to talk to someone that isn’t a fellow driver, someone she isn’t competing with on some level or the other. With Lexie not here and Chris and Freddie consequently absent as well, the loneliness creeps up sometimes, especially when the sound of the group together is constant.
Her eyes flicker towards the house, still and quaint in the Austrian night. Despite everything, and possibly because of the wine, her mind wanders to him, to Taehyung. She wonders momentarily if he knows Jimin apologised, or if he knows they’re out here. 
He was worried. She struggles to find meaning in it, a task made harder by the wine as well as Jimin's apology, a simple gesture that's started to break down the walls of anger and fury and is in danger of letting loose whatever emotions are behind them. She refuses to think about anything else he's mentioned.
Taehyung would love this wine, and he'd be aghast at them drinking it chilled and straight out of the bottle. It shocks her for a moment that she can remember this, even as part of her rolls her eyes, for it wasn't even a year ago in Austin that they'd done the same thing in her hotel room.
"Is he still with her?" Dilara doesn't look up at Jimin, half-hoping he hasn't heard her. 
There's a pause, but his voice is steady and confident when he replies. "No.”
She gives him a small nod, unable to see what she's achieved by knowing this. Even the wine seems harder to swallow, and she forces the sip down before passing the bottle back to him.
New York, USA; January (Two months in) (Taehyung)
Fifty minutes. 
Taehyung tapped his foot on the shiny floor of the studio, losing patience as the anchor kept going on and on about what was to come after the break. He didn’t understand why it was necessary to go into this much detail; wouldn’t the audience find out after the break anyway? Moreover, couldn’t he just tape this bit separately, especially since none of this was live?
But no, Trevor Noah had no such illusions, and he insisted on shoving in at least one joke between each sentence he spoke. He also liked taping in order of viewing, apparently, and now his guests - BTS, Kristen Stewart and some other British actor whose name Taehyung couldn’t remember for the life of him - were left to wait while he delivered his monologue to the camera.
Normally, Taehyung liked Trevor Noah. There was something refreshing about his humour, and he didn’t make them do silly antics on his show like the variety of Jameses and Jimmys they were forced to laugh along with. Tonight, though, Taehyung couldn’t care less about his humour - not when his humour had made Taehyung fifty minutes late for his Zoom date with Dilara, something that was scheduled after three whole days of trying to find a common time slot where they could both have a meal at the same time.
Honestly, it still wouldn’t be a proper meal because of the time difference, but they’d compromised on Taehyung having an early dinner and Dilara having a late one - anything to gather some semblance of being a couple that communicated outside of missed texts and short calls between commitments.
The good thing was that Dilara wouldn't be angry. Actually, that wasn't true. It wasn't that she wouldn't be angry; it was that she couldn't be angry, for while Taehyung had inadvertently missed this date, she had been the one to cancel the last two.
He hadn't even found it in him to be annoyed, although the second time he'd made a snappy statement on WhatsApp he'd later apologised for. It was clear she hated it as much as he did, and it was hardly her fault that F1 testing began next month, or that the car regulations had changed which meant that drivers needed to be in the factories much more than usual.
We're a long-distance couple, Tae. She'd said it later with a sigh when he'd called to apologise, her voice sounding tired yet intending to be somewhat reassuring. We just have to figure out a way around this. Every couple does it.
The words had been on the top of Taehyung's tongue - we're not like other couples - but he'd bit them back in the moment. She'd sounded too tired and guilty, and his tone had softened as he asked her about her day. He'd slipped it in in the end, though: Don't worry, we're not like other couples. 
Dilara had chuckled after a moment, and just said I love you. He'd missed her so immensely right then that he'd needed a moment to gather himself, half-wondering if he could get a couple of days off and fly to London, possibly surprising her. It never materialised, but it stayed in his mind.
Taehyung's foot continued tapping, enough for Namjoon to turn and catch his eye. The leader's expression was calm and camera-ready, yet Taehyung could tell what it meant: cut it out already.
He considered ignoring him for a moment, for he felt Namjoon of all people should understand his frustration. But then Taehyung met his gaze and felt his foot stop of its own accord, before both of them looked away in different directions.
When the taping finally ended and they were ushered back into the green room, Taehyung lunged for his phone when one of the staff handed it to him. His lockscreen lit up, a carefully cropped picture of Dilara on the grass with a puppy, from their first impromptu date in Suzuka over a year ago.
He immediately checked his messages to see six from her, the first one already ten minutes after they'd agreed to come online.
Lara ♥ [18:10] Ready when you are <3
Lara ♥ [18:15] Running late?
Lara ♥ [18:22] Taeeeee, where are youuu? I miss you (and I'm starving)
Lara ♥ [18:25] [Photo]
Lara ♥ [18:45] :( Let me know when you're back, baby.
Taehyung's heart flipped at the picture, a selfie of his girlfriend pouting dramatically with a plate of what looked like grilled fish and salad before her. Her wavy hair fell down her bare shoulder while the straps of her grey tank top lay taut over her collarbones, making the back of his neck feel hot.
She looked thinner; it was to be expected, she said, now that testing was about to begin and all the drivers would have to shed their holiday weight and start working out to go back to their absolute lightest in preparation for the season. Without further ado, as the stylists began bustling around and helping the members change into their regular clothes, Taehyung called her.
She picked up after the second ring. "You're lucky you're cute," she said, sounding both exasperated and affectionate.
He smiled automatically at the sound of her voice. "I'm sorry, jagiya. The stupid taping ran long because one of the guests showed up late and -" He turned away slightly when he noticed one of the editors from the show eyeing him “- then we had to redo the entire closing sequence because the sound was off.” He exhaled heavily, tugging at his collar. “I’m sorry. I would’ve texted.”
“It’s okay,” she said, and he could tell she was stretching. “How was the show?”
“Nothing special,” he said dismissively, picturing her amidst sheets, her hair a pleasant mess. “Just talking about the nominations and everything. Performance went well, though.”
“That’s good. Can’t wait to watch it when it airs.” She stretched again and he heard a rustle in the background.
“Were you asleep? Did I wake you?”
“No. I mean, yeah,” she amended, chuckling lightly, “but it’s good. I dozed off on the couch and I need to do a bunch of things before going to bed.”
“Lexie’s not home?” Taehyung asks, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook have all changed into regular clothes. “Won’t she kill you for sleeping uncomfortably?”
Dilara laughed, and his heart skipped a beat as he leaned against the wall. “Yeah, she would. She’s not here right now, though; she has a workshop and Chris is assisting, so I’m guessing they’ll be late.”
He frowned curiously. “Chris and Lexie?”
“Chris and Lexie,” she repeated. 
“Is that something -” But Taehyung was cut off when a hand pulled at his arm, yanking the phone away from his ear. “Hey!”
“The car is waiting,” said one of the stylists hurriedly in Korean, already fiddling with the jewellery around his neck. “Everyone else has already changed - you’re the only one left.”
“I -” He sighed in frustration before gingerly putting the phone back to his ear. “Hey, b- uh… hey.”
“Do you need to go?”
He bit his lip, the underlying disappointment in her voice not lost on him. “Just - just for a bit. I’ll call you,” he said, hesitating with his words with not one, but two stylists around him now. “As soon as I can.”
“Yeah, okay. Love you.”
Taehyung made a non-committal sound before hanging up, making a mental note to text her a long, borderline-sappy message the moment he got the chance. Changing and hurrying into the car was quick, with the crew ensuring that they got a back exit out of the building so as to not be bombarded by paparazzi. Taehyung messaged her in the car, making it to a quick So sorry, baby, I’ll call you asap before his phone died. 
The irritation was growing. The moment they reached their floor of the hotel, he made a beeline for his room, only to be yanked backwards by the hood of his sweatshirt.
“Namjoon hyung said we have to do a vlive,” was all Jungkook offered by way of explanation, and Taehyung found himself being dragged into someone else’s hotel room where half the group was already gathered on the sofa, facing a laptop. 
The entire live was spent in silence, watching his phone charge and tapping his foot in defiance as he waited for the stupid thing to be over. He neither participated nor reacted to anything and despite knowing he'd be in for a conversation with Namjoon later, he bolted the moment the live ended, shutting his room door behind him and finally, finally video calling Dilara.
When she answered, Taehyung was relieved to see her eyes light up, albeit tiredly. “Hey, babe.” She was already in bed, shuffling in the sheets before propping her head sideways on her palm. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you today.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said immediately, sitting on the carpeted floor and leaning back against the side of the bed. “The taping ran long and then my phone died and -” He sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day suddenly catch up with him, too. “Tell me you already ate?”
“Yeah, I did,” she admitted, a little sheepishly. “Fish sucks when it gets cold and I need to have a gap between eating and sleeping. Plus, I need to be at the factory to meet the head of engineering tomorrow and he’s flying in at some ridiculous hour of the morning…” Dilara rubbed her eyes before dropping her head on the pillow, a small smile on her face as she looked back up at him. “How was the show?”
“It was okay,” he said, shrugging. If they’d been having this conversation in person, she’d be burying her face in his neck and murmuring into it, without a doubt. “You’ll see it when it airs. I think one of us messed up the choreography but hopefully it won’t be obvious.”
“It rarely ever is,” she said reassuringly, waving a hand before using it to mask a yawn.
“You should sleep, baby,” he murmured after a moment, ignoring how his heart sank at his own words. “I made it too late for you.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “I -” She broke off and exhaled, looking away pensively.
“What is it? Lara,” he added, when she didn’t respond.
It took her a few moments to turn back to him. “It’s nothing. We’ll figure it out. I mean, the actual F1 season hasn’t even started yet and you guys will start having international schedules and everything… we’ll have to get used to this, right?”
Taehyung hesitated, for this had truthfully not occurred to him. The fact that their schedules would change, yes. But the fact that it might get worse than this? It was a tough pill to swallow and his mind’s solution had been to simply block it out. “Well… yeah. But we’ll both be travelling. We’ll have overlapping schedules also, right? And you won’t be racing every weekend.”
“No, I know. Just need to make the best of what we have. Summer break I’m all yours,” she added after a moment, wiggling her eyebrows and smiling playfully.
He grinned. “All mine,” he repeated, feeling a mixture of affection and longing. His thumb brushed over the screen of his phone, as though hoping to touch her through it before he realised how silly that was. “I can’t wait. But we’re going somewhere cold this time,” he warned.
“Fine. We can do Australia - I’ve never actually been anywhere but Melbourne. And even there, only Albert Park,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Or South Africa.”
“I was thinking Brazil?” he suggested. “But you can choose this time.”
Dilara chuckled. “Surprise you with tickets?”
“Uh-uh. You can’t steal my move.”
“Fine, I’ll find another way to surprise you.”
“Or you can leave the surprises to me.” He flashed her a knowing smile. “I’m good at surprises.”
“Okay, that’s a relief because I am terrible at surprises,” she informed him, falling back onto the bed and moving the phone up above her. Her dark hair was splayed all over the white pillow and she wasn’t wearing a bra, the curve of her breasts teasingly visible over the neck of her tank top. Before she could change her position, Taehyung took a screenshot, his own face at the top right corner while Dilara took over the rest of the screen.
“I don’t need surprises. I just want to see you again,” he said bluntly, leaning his head back and suddenly annoyed that they were having this conversation over the phone.
She bit her lip, looking almost apologetic. “Soon,” she said finally, her voice softer than before. “Next month… that’s happening, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll make it happen.” Taehyung nodded, sounding more confident than he felt. As per their current schedule, he had almost six days off in a row between recording and beginning rehearsal for their upcoming music videos. These schedules usually didn’t change much but there was no guarantee - of anything, especially since it was more than possible that his days off would clash with the F1 testing week, meaning Dilara would be in Barcelona.
But he wasn’t about to give up that easily, at least not in his own head. Her season officially kicked off in March and he couldn’t fathom not seeing her before then.
“Even if testing starts,” she began, clearly guessing where his mind was at, “we can still meet in Barcelona. I’ll find a way to clear it with Red Bull,” she promised. “I mean, I’m sure it’s possible. Kelly comes with Max everywhere, and Danny’s girlfriend, too, when he was in Red Bull. We’ll figure it out, Tae.”
Taehyung looked away before nodding slowly, deliberately keeping quiet. He looked back to see her eyes flutter shut before she snapped them open. 
“Lara, go to sleep,” he said softly, suddenly feeling guilty. “We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise.”
This time, Dilara didn’t fight him on it. “Okay,” she mumbled, turning back onto her side and pulling her covers up to her shoulders. “Wish you were here, though,” she adds after a moment, her voice even smaller than before.
Me too, my love. But Taehyung didn’t trust himself to speak right now. There was an uncomfortable bitterness in the pit of his stomach that he knew wasn’t directed at her, but he couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing, not while they were this far apart.
“Soon,” was all he said, swallowing. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, Tae.” She gave him a reassuring smile before the screen went dark.
Spielberg, Austria; September (Thursday) (Dilara)
Dilara exits her room the next morning, fully dressed and ready to head down to the paddock before anyone else is even awake. By the time she grabs a handful of cereal and starts heading out, Suga emerges from the hallway, eyes puffy and hair a mess. He frowns when he sees her.
“Are you leaving already?” he asks hoarsely.
Mildly shocked that he’s speaking directly to her, she nods blankly. “It’s nice weather so I - I thought I’d walk,” she stutters. He nods absently, still frowning, and Dilara remembers only then that the members will also be joining her and Max for PR today..
At that moment she hears another door in the house open and low, garbled male voices speaking in Korean. The last thing she wants is for one of the members to offer to drive her or something, so after a hasty farewell to Suga, she practically sprints out of the door and jogs until she’s a safe distance away from the house before slowing down.
The fresh air helps her wake up some - and the bottle of water she’s cradling helps keep her stomach steady. She and Jimin had finally retired to their respective rooms at nearly two in the morning, after finishing the entire bottle of wine between them. By the end, they’d been sitting on the grass and giggling at the most absurd memes on the internet as their sips of wine got bigger, until she’d finally remembered that they both had a whole day of PR to get to.
“Drink this,” he’d ordered in a whisper when they’d sneaked back inside, throwing her a bottle of water. Despite how much her head was swimming, she’d managed to catch it by the tips of her fingers and downed the entire thing, knowing that no matter how uncomfortable it was in the moment, it definitely beat being hungover the next morning.
In the light of day, Dilara has no idea how being on good terms with Jimin again changes anything. It probably means she doesn’t ice him out anymore, but given that he’s rarely alone and nearly always with members she’s currently not on speaking terms with, she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, especially when he wasn’t even her closest friend in the group.
She’s glad, therefore, that she and Max have to go earlier for PR, which means she gets a couple of more hours with people she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around. After a virtual interview and a taping of some random word game with Max, both of them head out to the paddock for the stunt section. However, since most drivers are scheduled to arrive later today, the paddock is mostly empty when they reach - apart from BTS.
“You can do this, Komyshan,” mutters Max to her as they approach. When she looks up at him with a frown, he shrugs. “You look like you could stab him.”
This, she presumes, is directed at her ex, who’s just sauntered onto the paddock with the rest of his band. There’s distant laughter coming from a threesome who she spots as Jungkook, Seokjin and Jimin, while Yoongi types something on his phone as he walks. Namjoon and Hoseok look deep in conversation while Taehyung, for reasons best known to himself, has arrived wearing a grey suit, complete with a pocket square and Oxfords. Next to the other six who are in variations of jeans and hoodies, he looks like a complete fish out of water - a handsome, confident, aloof fish. Dilara’s stomach flips uncomfortably; it’s an annoying realisation that settles over her that for once, she can’t simply leave the room to avoid him.
As they all gather around the two shiny Hyundai’s parked near the starting line, she spots Taehyung running a hand through his blond hair, causing it to fall gracefully down the sides of his face. She realises only when he suddenly turns and catches her eye that she's been staring, and she immediately looks away. 
"This is going to suck," she grumbles in a low voice.
"Chin up, Komyshan," says Max, sounding uncharacteristically encouraging, as the staff begin beckoning them closer. "You drive F1 cars, remember?"
“Wish I could crash one,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and straightening her cap. “Shit, shouldn’t jinx it, no?”
He snorts. “Not on a race weekend, no,” he agrees, and she chuckles despite herself. As expected, there’s some forced meet and greet before the band splits into two: Jimin, Jungkook and Suga are ushered towards Max’s car, while RM, Seokjin, Hoseok and Taehyung are pushed towards hers. Even though she knows it isn’t their choice to be split up like this, she can’t help but feel sorry that Jimin is not in her car - and Taehyung is.
After the staff briefs the group on the sketch - she and Max racing around the track with BTS members in each car - everyone begins their touch ups and mic fittings. Dilara's is done in a few minutes but she stays to the side, suddenly feeling nauseous in the crowd of sunny moods and friendly chatter. She doesn't know if it's last night's wine or the sight of her ex-boyfriend and his friends laughing together, but either way she finds she can't stand it and instead heads inside the garage. 
She makes a quick round of the washrooms while she’s in there, staring at her own dazed expression in the mirror before she sighs and resigns herself to PR. However, the moment she exits, she's accosted by none other than Kim Taehyung himself.
"Lara," he says in a low voice, and she feels her heart drop at the sudden and unexpected scent of lotion and cologne. He darts to stand in front of her, hands in his pockets as he towers over her smaller figure.
For a moment, all she can think is how ridiculously handsome he is, with his blond bangs brushing his perfect cheekbones. Focus, Komyshan. Too shocked for words, Dilara's first instinct is to silently brush past him, taking care to knock into his shoulder as she does, but he grabs her arm to stop her.
"Don't touch me," she snaps instantly, yanking her hand away and ignoring how his face falls as she continues walking away. A second later, she feels him next to her again, his cologne (Dior, she remembers, and her stomach churns) overwhelming her.
"Lara, I just want to talk for a -"
"Stop calling me that." 
"Okay, I'm sorry - look, can you just give me five minutes?" Taehyung exhales sharply as she strides past him with a vengeance, finally grabbing her wrist again.
She turns to face him, murderous. "Are you serious right now?"
His expression instantly goes from annoyed to pleading and he drops her hand. "Just five minutes. Please, La - please."
"No. Now let me go."
"Damn it, Dilara," he says impatiently, apparently not realising how her heart thuds at the sound of her name on his tongue. "You know, we'll have to talk about this some time."
She raises her eyebrows incredulously. "Will we now?"
Taehyung gives her a look, his shoulders falling slightly. "I mean… look, just me explain, just for a -"
"Just take no for an answer, alright?" She interrupts him, not having the patience for his eyes getting wider and softer by the second. 
"Seriously? Are you just going to avoid this topic for the rest of our lives?"
"The rest of our lives? What are you talking about?" she exclaimed. "This PR thing will be over in less than two months and then we never have to see each other again."
All the colour seems to drain from Taehyung's face and it takes Dilara a moment to register, too, the words she's said. Not now, Komyshan. She swallows and shakes her head. 
"Let it go, Kim."
She starts to walk away again, already feeling a lump in her throat, when he lets out a frustrated sigh from behind her.
"Come on, just - just give me a chance!" he exclaims from behind her, and she hates how his voice breaks for a fraction of a second. "Maybe you'll understand my point of view!"
Dilara whips around, her jaw hard. "There is nothing you can say to make me understand your point of view," she hisses, glaring at him before turning to leave again. The sunlight at the exit of the garage is visible now and she starts walking faster. Almost there, Komyshan.
"Sure about that?" Taehyung isn't following her anymore and his voice is less pleading now. "Or are you afraid you might hear something you actually agree with?"
She stops in her tracks. There's a sudden simmering in her hands and feet that seems to be flowing up her extremities. Her ears seem to be ringing and there’s only one word that keeps echoing in her mind. She turns around slowly to find him stepping towards her.
"What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me." He stops a couple of feet away from her. "I think you're afraid to hear me out."
All traces of impending tears have disappeared. Her eyes are dry as she looks up at him, and she knows she's not imagining the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You think I'm afraid?"
Taehyung licks his lips, saying nothing but simply raising an eyebrow. Yes. It occurs to her vaguely how close they are, almost nose to nose. His lips are right there, but for once, Dilara can’t care about that at all. There’s an unnatural sort of fury rising in her, and she doesn’t think she’s ever hated him more.
“You’re going to regret that,” she says quietly.
Something in her tone seems to alert him to the fact that his tactic may be going off track, for his eyes flicker and he momentarily drops his gaze. “I’m just saying, maybe if you -”
But Dilara is done with this. She’s seeing red now. “I was never the one who was afraid,” she whispers bitterly. This time when she starts to walk away, she neither hears nor feels him behind her.
She jogs out onto the sunny paddock where some of the other group members have already piled into cars. The sunroofs are down and in Max’s car, Jungkook is pointing his phone at Jimin who’s posing sultrily with a pair of dark sunglasses on. Dilara turns away from them, finding Max whose smile fades when he sees her.
“Whoa.” His blue eyes widen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She points to the contents of his hand. “Are those the keys?”
“Um -” He nods jerkily but takes a step back. “Are you okay? Should you be getting into a car right now?”
Dilara bristles. “Excuse me? You don’t trust me inside a car? Why? Because I’m not about to be world champion, Verstappen?”
Max stares. Then he places a hand on her shoulder and lowers his head so they’re face to face. “Seriously… are you okay, Dilara?”
No, I am not okay. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, not so long as Kim Taehyung is in my life, reminding me every second of how much he humiliated me. 
“Just peachy.” When Max doesn’t move, she sighs, already embarrassed by her outburst. “I’m fine, Max. Really. And I’m… sorry.”
He ignores this, still frowning. “What happened? Did he say something? Do you want to go somewhere and… I dunno. Talk about it?” He sounds incredibly unsure.
Do you want to go somewhere quiet?
The first words Kim Taehyung ever spoke to her echo in her mind. “It… doesn’t matter, alright?” she says, suddenly tired. “Let’s just get this over with.” She holds her hand out for the key.
Max hesitates. “We can move this PR to later. When you’re… in the mood.”
She rolls her eyes. “What do you think I'm going to do - crash the car?" When he doesn't respond, she scoffs disbelievingly. She extends her hand. “I’ve been angrier than this when I’m racing.”
“Yeah, but there’s something to be said for a driver’s mental state when you’re -”
“Max, he said I was scared.”
He halts abruptly. “He -” His eyes dart up over her head, presumably in Taehyung’s direction, and there’s a flash of what she imagines is understanding in his face. When he looks back down at her, he opens his mouth as if to say something but then sighs and shakes his head.
“Yeah.”
Max tosses the key to her. “Just be careful, Komyshan.”
She snatches it mid-air. “Always am.” Striding over to the car, Dilara climbs into the driver’s seat, immediately busying herself checking the mirrors and the fuel. Vicki Lloyd, Red Bull’s press officer, passes in between both cars with a cloth bag in her hand that everyone starts dropping their phones into and finally, everyone’s settled - except for one person.
Dilara tries not to pay attention to the fact that there are only three BTS members in each car. She doesn’t turn, though, not even when Hoseok calls Taheyung over, telling him to hurry up in rapid Korean. She registers the lotion and cologne before anything else, still ignoring him while he stands at the passenger door directly behind her. He isn’t getting in and while she can’t see his face, she likes to imagine he’s hesitating because of their recent exchange, possibly realising, finally, that this is her territory and he’s the intruder.
Taehyung gets in eventually, though, and the cameras come on right after. Thankfully, the guys in her car have the forethought to seat him right behind her so that she doesn't have to look at him even if she turns. RM sits shotgun, with the other three in the backseat, already sounding comically wary of what's coming. 
RM starts speaking to her, and it's his leader voice, the one that’s hyper aware of every camera. Seokjin is far too much older than her for her to snark at, and Hoseok… well, it’s just too hard to ignore Hoseok, especially when he’s wearing a leaf-printed hoodie and shades, his smile brighter than the sun. 
The conversation is carefully formal, though; she wonders if they can tell that something happened. The way they're talking to her, it's almost as though they don't want to risk offending her - possibly because they think she'll set the car on fire or something. 
Dilara catches the occasional glimpse of Taehyung, too, through her side mirror. His face is smooth and impassive as usual, a closed book, and it’s only when he lowers his gaze when he accidentally meets hers that she knows their conversation is still playing on his mind. 
He doesn’t say a word, though, and she's glad for it. She doesn’t think she'll be able to stop herself from snapping at him in public if he does and he probably knows that, if the wounded expression on his face yesterday is anything to go by.
Finally, when the anchor gives the signal, she and Max get ready for two laps around the track, posing for the camera before zooming away. The guys let out the perfect reactions, screaming and cursing and joking in equal measure, partly in English and partly in Korean.
As much as she doesn't want to engage, she has to, so does - begrudgingly. She focuses on the driving as much as possible, though, going at a hundred and twenty - child's play for her - while Seokjin and Hoseok punctuate every turn with fresh yells.
On the straights, though, all of them seem to enjoy the wind in their hair. Dilara keeps an eye on Max, who's beside her in his car, and hams it up for the camera with him. Then, suddenly, without warning, Hoseok calls Taehyung's name and says something in Korean that she unexpectedly understands.
She wishes she hadn’t. Taehyung, you look so handsome. Even in the small side mirror, with his head thrown back, blond hair blowing in the breeze and a heartbreaking smile adorning his face, he looks like the most beautiful person she's ever seen in her entire life. 
When he hears Hoseok's compliment, he laughs, sounding amused and embarrassed all at once. At that laugh, that deep, happy laugh, she gets the sudden urge to cry, because she had him and she lost him, and the reason she lost him is no one's fault but his. In her lone hole of misery and heartbreak, she wants that smile wiped off his face.
Another memory surfaces in her mind, a bittersweet one. Nearly two years ago, the weekend they'd first met, Taehyung had taken her on an impromptu date to a dog farm. He'd messed up reading the map, however, and they'd been massively delayed. In order to make up for the time they'd lost, Dilara had offered to take over the wheel and they’d made a twenty-five minute trip in under fifteen. The image of him that day gives rise to an ugly, determined pit in her stomach, one she’s not afraid to listen to.
Give him hell, Komyshan.
The moment the car approaches Turn 4 again, she swerves deliberately, savagely enjoying how it jolts him across the seat. For the rest of the lap she drives borderline dangerously, taking the actual racing lines and going as fast as the car will allow her. She can smell the rubber of the tyres burning, but she doesn’t give a flying fuck about damaging the car. With the money Red Bull is getting through this marketing partnership resulting in her daily discomfort, they better be able to afford it. 
Behind her, she can hear all the boys yelling - including Taehyung. 
She wins, of course, having driven like a maniac; although to be fair, Max finishes less than five seconds behind her. The segment ends with them still in the car and the moment the cameras are turned off, all seven band members crawl out of the two cars. To her immense irritation, she sees Max grin and fist bump Jungkook, the only person along with Suga who doesn’t look like he wants to die. 
The staff hands out small bottles of water to everyone as they all gather in the Red Bull garage. By the time she’s finished her bottle, she sees RM, Seokjin and Jimin have all more or less recovered, but they’re all gathered around Hoseok and Taehyung. Or rather, just Taehyung, for Hoseok, while he looks slightly nauseous, is still standing next to his younger member and patting him on the back.
Taehyung is seated on a chair with his head between his legs and groaning, while Jimin and Jungkook are crouched in front of him and RM and Seokjin dryly rattle off what sounds like encouragement. It’s exactly what she wanted; her moment of insane anger had led her to not only let in unwanted memories of the past, but also to remember the last time she was in a car with him that went this fast. How he’d tumbled out outside the dog farm, how he’d dramatically stated he was dying, how she’d tried not to laugh and instead brushed back his hair until he felt better…
Dilara feels like crying again. She doesn’t know if driving like that has made her nauseous, too, but she suddenly feels sick. She glances back at him again, his thick hair falling gracefully over his hands as he covers his face. She sighs; going into her bag, she retrieves a metallic strip and heads to the water cooler where Jungkook is filling a glass, presumably for Taehyung.
“Jungkook,” she mutters. He turns to her with a jerk, eyes wider than ever, as though not quite believing that she’s actually speaking to him. She’s glad; she doesn’t particularly want him to answer (he didn’t answer when she needed him; why should he now?), especially when she’s grudgingly willing to help out, if for no other reason that she can’t be focused on an ill ex-boyfriend on a race weekend.
“Give him two of these,” she instructs him, shoving the pills into his large, tattooed hand. “He should feel better in about ten minutes. And you did not get them from me,” she adds warningly.
Jungkook studies the strip before looking up at her with those same gigantic eyes. “Who did I get them from?” he asks innocently.
Dilara shrugs. “I don’t know. Tell him his new girlfriend gave them to you.” She just about catches how his expression changes from bewilderment to guilt.
“No - no, Dilara, he’s not -”
But she turns around and walks away, not wanting to hear a word about his new relationship, even though Jimin had mostly cleared that part up last night. She doesn’t know what the rest of them know, and she has no desire to be the one to break the news in any form that Jimin, at least, is on his way to earning her forgiveness. 
When Dilara sees Taehyung fifteen minutes later, he looks good as new. Rolling her eyes, she goes over to check the schedule to see that she has only one PR session left with BTS. Thankfully, this is an interview, which means she doesn’t have to directly interact with them at all. There are some questions, of course, on her unfortunately public appreciation for the band as a fan. She answers them as vaguely as possible, evasively avoiding ones where she has to talk about any particular member, and lets the band take the lead. 
When she looks at Taehyung, sitting almost directly across from her in the semi circle, she feels the same pang in her heart when looking at someone she used to know. Their eyes meet again and this time, she holds his gaze for a little longer. With one look, she can tell he knows for certain that her reckless driving was done with a purpose. She  waits for his anger, annoyance - anything. Instead, he looks away this time and the only emotion she can even begin to read is one she genuinely didn’t think she’d see: shame.
After PR, Vicki is handing everyone back their phones. She waves a silver iPhone and hands it to Dilara, a stack of smartphones in her other hand.
“Wait, this isn’t mine,” she tells Vicki, placing it back on the snacks table next to her.
“Yes, it is,” she says so confidently that Dilara wavers. “You’re on the lockscreen.”
What? Hesitating, Dilara clicks the Home button and her heart skips a beat. A picture she hasn’t seen in ages, of her lying back against green grass, laughing as she cuddles a puppy, is indeed the lockscreen. She stares at it, trying to drink in any happiness she can remember from that day. It’s cropped strategically, possibly in case it falls into the wrong hands, but it’s clear enough for anyone who knows Dilara to be able to tell it’s her - such as her press officer. 
Before Dilara can look at it too hard, though, a slender hand appears next to her and hastily snatches the phone before walking off, leaving a lingering scent of lotion and cologne.
Tokyo, Japan; February (Three months in) (Taehyung)
The scent of hairspray was overwhelming, and Taehyung was ready to throw up. And if the smell didn’t do that, Ji-ho’s presence alone would be enough.
It was bad enough that Donghyuk had barged into their green room without warning; this type of thing usually wasn’t allowed, and if it was, it was after tons of screening. Given that none of Taehyung’s friends had ever made it inside this room, he couldn’t help but feel a little salty that Donghyuk and Ji-ho were here, even if they were part of Hybe.
As the members sat on the couches, sweaty and exhausted, the staff began handing out bottles of water to everyone - including, Taehyung noticed, both the unwelcome guests. The rest of the group didn’t seem particularly happy with them hanging around either, even if they were greeting them politely.
Across the room, Namjoon and Hoseok were standing next to the refreshments table talking to Ji-ho, while Donghyuk was making himself comfortable on one of the leather couches next to Jimin and Jungkook. Taehyung, for once, had no interest in socialising, not even when Namjoon caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, as though prodding him to speak to them.
Taehyung turned away, though. He was here in Tokyo mostly against his will, and he was determined to not do a shred more work than he was expected to before he got the hell out of here: rehearse, doll up, perform. Making small talk with artists whom he usually did not have a problem with but today could not seem to stand, did not qualify.
It’s your job, Taehyung. Namjoon’s words rang deep and true in his mind. We all have responsibilities.
He gritted his teeth, getting annoyed all over again. It was rare that he ever clashed with Namjoon; in fact, in his memory, it had probably happened not more than once or twice at most - before this week. Taehyung had been mid-fold when his leader had knocked and entered his room at the dorm, sighing at the sight of his half-full suitcase.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” was how he’d started. Namjoon looked preemptively apologetic, and it had taken Taehyung a few seconds to realise why.
“No,” he’d said immediately. “No. No. I’d cleared this with everyone, weeks ago,” he’d cried, already hearing the desperation in his voice. “Hyung, no. Please.”
Namjoon had bit his lip and hung his head, but Taehyung had no patience to feel sympathy for him right now. “They want to film a week early,” he’d explained in a low voice. “They want time to create more promos before the show airs so we have to be there to record…”
Taehyung had stopped listening by this point. He looked at the items in his hands: a brown jacket, a beanie and a faded red t-shirt. I don’t mind bribing you for that t-shirt. The memory of Dilara’s voice on a steamy video call made his heart jolt and for a moment, he thought he might cry.
“... really sorry.”
He exhaled, still not looking at Namjoon. Then he turned around to face him, noting his pitying expression, his hands in his pockets. He did look genuinely sorry - but also looked completely firm in his message.
“Just one day,” blurted Taehyung. “Just let me fly overnight, I’ll - I’ll spend one day with her and I’ll take a flight back the same night.” His breath hitched. “It won’t make a difference to the schedule at all.”
“You know we can’t do that, Taehyung.” Namjoon gave him a look, as though this should have been obvious to him. “We don’t have a day off. They want us to leave on Thursday.”
“That’s perfect! That’s two days away - I can fly straight to Tokyo from there. Hyung, please.” 
“Taehyung, I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that!” he exclaimed, dropping the clothes in his hands onto the bed, not caring how messy it was. “They’ll listen to you if you ask them. Just tell them I need one day. I just need to see her for one -” Here, his voice broke.
Namjoon sighed, taking a step into the room. “Taehyung, I know this is hard. But it’ll get -”
“You do know,” he interrupted. “You know better than anybody how hard this is.” There was a pause where Namjoon said nothing, which Taehyung took as acknowledgement. “Or has it been so long that you don’t even care anymore?”
Namjoon’s jaw hardened. “What did you say?”
“I -” Taehyung felt a lump in his throat. She was going to Barcelona soon, and then there would be no time, none at all. “I’m going to lose her, hyung,” he whispered, feeling his vision blur. “I haven’t seen her in three months. She’ll -”
Namjoon's eyes softened. “You’re not going to -” But here, he paused, dropping his gaze and chewing on his lip. “Long distance is hard, Taehyung,” he said softly after a moment, and Taehyung sniffled. “But you will find a rhythm. It won’t be easy and it’ll take time, but it’ll happen. Every couple figures it out eventually.”
And if they don’t… they break up. Namjoon didn’t need to say it out loud.
That was five days ago. Namjoon had left after that and Taehyung had wallowed alone in his room for hours before calling Dilara to break the news to her. He’d hated every second of it but he’d had no choice. Her disappointment had been clear as day, even though she’d tried to hide it, and Taehyung had had no idea what to do except apologise, the words sounding useless even to his own ears. 
It had been a short call, mostly because there had been something strange in the way Dilara had accepted his news. She didn’t seem angry or annoyed with him; in fact, she’d been quick to mention that she didn’t want him to blame himself because it wasn’t his fault.
“This shit happens, love,” she’d murmured, before she’d forced a smile on her face.
But there was something else in her expression, too. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on where he’d seen it before or even what it meant. It was almost resigned in a way, and all Taehyung knew was that there was a looming sense of inadequacy as a boyfriend that was creeping up on him and he had no idea how to get rid of it.
Dilara had left for Barcelona yesterday. He’d called and wished her luck and even stayed up with her on the phone for a while as she’d expressed her anxiety about testing the new car, but with both of them dealing with jetlag, the call had ended soon. She’d looked tired, he remembered, and he hated the thought of her alone in a hotel room in that state. She’d also reminded him that she had Lexie, but it hardly reassured him.
A tap on his shoulder jerked him out of his reverie. Next to him, Seokjin tilted his head at something and Taehyung looked to see Ji-ho showing him something. 
“Rum ball?” he called from across the room.
“No, thanks,” muttered Taehyung, but the rapper didn’t seem to actually want an answer, and before Taehyung even got all the words out of his mouth, the foil-wrapped object was being chucked across the room to him. Catching it, he grudgingly unwrapped it, taking a bite before passing it along to Seokjin.
“Taehyung? Something wrong?” Donghyuk seemed to notice his expression but the last thing Taehyung wanted was to have a heart to heart with Supreme Boi. 
“Just tired,” he answered, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. He was sure his members didn’t believe him, but he didn’t care. The conversation continued and Taehyung tuned out, preferring to feel sorry for himself instead. 
He honestly didn’t know when he’d get to see Dilara again. F1 testing lasted only a week, but by then, the group had to start recording. Her season officially started in mid-March, meaning the first two weeks would be full of PR and hours spent at the gym and on the simulator. The best he could hope for was to rely on prior experience and just land up for the first race in Melbourne, surprise her, support her from the garage and possibly make up for cancelling on her this time.
It wasn’t a great plan but it was a plan. Chest still heavy, he tried half-heartedly thinking of dates and tickets, wondering which approvals he would need this time if he intended on making an appearance in public like this. He vaguely heard the television switch on, but it wasn’t until he heard a familiar whirr and Jungkook blurt out “Isn’t that Dilara?” that he realised it was the sports channel.
Taehyung’s head whipped around to glare at Jungkook, who was already looking like a deer caught in headlights, with more than one member giving him warning looks. “I just - I meant -”
Thankfully, Donghyuk and Ji-ho didn’t seem to notice. The latter, who was now sitting on the arm of one of the sofas, also turned to Jungkook. “You watch Formula One?” he asked, sounding interested.
“I -” Jungkook stuttered and looked around, as though looking for permission. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Not for long, though. Only a couple of years.”
None of it was a lie, for out of all the members, Jungkook was the one who kept up with the sport the most, genuinely enjoying it and spending hours in the middle of the night playing the video game, sometimes with Dilara herself. 
Ji-ho nodded approvingly. “Good stuff. Who’s your favourite driver?”
“Uh… Dilara Komyshan?” he said, a hint of a smile already playing on his face. After what felt like several days, even Taehyung felt the urge to smile, turning to look at the television that was showing testing. It was just cars going around the track and minimal commentary. He could just about make out the two Red Bull cars when they came on screen but even then, it felt like a small, hopeful glimpse of Dilara. 
He was going to Melbourne, he decided. If just seeing her initials unexpectedly on a television screen could make him this happy, seeing him in person would mean the world to her. The approvals and leaves suddenly didn’t seem like an obstacle; it would all be worth it.
Around him, the discussion was still continuing. Donghyuk frowned at Jungkook. “Is that a girl’s name?” He turned to Ji-ho, his face comically confused. “There’s a girl in Formula One?”
“Yeah, just one, though,” he answered, still looking at the screen. “That’s her,” he said, pointing to the scoreboard on the left side of the screen. KOM was sixth, two places behind VER.
“Wow. I always thought it was just guys in that sport,” said Donghyuk, sounding wondrous.
“She’s really good, though,” piped up Jungkook, a note of defensiveness in his voice.
“Yeah, she’s in Red Bull. She has to be,” commented Ji-ho. “They won’t take just - oh! What a turn,” he gasped, pointing at a Mercedes on the screen.
Meanwhile, Donghyuk was still on his own trip. “But it must be good for their image, too, no? To have a girl?” When no one particularly answered him, he sat up. “Is she on the screen?”
“That’s her car,” said Ji-ho, pointing at a Red Bull pulling into the garage.
Donghyuk snorted. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay, that’s her,” said Jimin when she climbed out of the car, helmet and race suit still on.
“Mm, still not what I meant. Come on, what does she look like,” he said finally, rolling his eyes. “Under the race suit. I mean her face,” he added hastily, interpreting Hoseok’s disgusted expression correctly. “You said she’s the only girl. I’m just curious.”
My girl, Taehyung thought in irritation. Donghyuk was known for his habit of getting into locker room talk, something Taehyung hadn’t paid much attention to in the past, but was now getting on his nerves. “I don’t think they’ll show the drivers here,” he said shortly, speaking for the first time. Even Ji-ho turned away from the television to glance at him, looking mildly surprised.
“Okay.” Donghyuk shrugged. “Show me something else then.”
Taehyung held his gaze, hating him, while Ji-ho asked the staff for the remote. He finally tore his eyes away as a female stylist scurried up to them and passed Namjoon the remote, who gave it to Ji-ho.
“Here we go…” Going onto YouTube, he clicked on a video: Drive To Survive: Season 4 Trailer. “This season is going to be epic,” he said to no one in particular as it started.
“My name is Dilara Komyshan and I drive for Aston - for Red Bull Racing Honda. Shit, can I do that again?” She giggled to someone off screen before the video changed to a montage with a hip hop soundtrack, followed by a few other drivers doing similar introductions. 
Taehyung’s heart felt like it was being squeezed, partly with the thrill of seeing his girlfriend on screen, hearing her voice, and partly because of how desperately he missed her right now. He didn’t even pay attention to Donghyuk going “Oh, that’s her”, caring only about catching any glimpse of Dilara, any at all, amidst the clips of other drivers, of the paddock, and cars zooming down different circuits.
Finally, she appeared again, in a slow motion shot with four other drivers. Two of them and Dilara were drenched, clearly in champagne, their race suits unzipped and hanging around their waist. Lewis Hamilton was shirtless, tattoos displayed all over his torso. Next to him was Max Verstappen, grinning and running a hand through his wet hair, while Dilara stood next to him, her tangled hair falling down to her chest, her black sports bra glistening in the sun. All five drivers were laughing at something off camera when the screen paused.
“Jungkook!” Ji-ho turned around to face him. “Can you name all of them?”
Grinning, Jungkook began rattling off the names. “Well, that’s Dilara. Er, Komyshan. Behind her is Lewis Hamilton, then Charles -”
He was interrupted by Donghyuk letting out a low whistle. “That’s Komyshan,” he noted, chuckling. “Nice tits.”
Taehyung didn’t even realise he was on his way to standing up until someone’s hand squeezed his shoulder, pinning him to his seat. “Careful,” came Yoongi’s voice in a mutter. From across the room, Namjoon immediately caught his eye and shook his head, his expression betraying everything from understanding to warning.
Ji-ho himself clicked his tongue at Donghyuk’s comment, though, and unpaused the screen. “Look beyond the tits, hyung,” he said, sounding only partly scathing. “Ah, there’s an episode on the Ferrari crash, too…” He shook his head forlornly at the screen as one of the drivers with the shiny black hair spoke seriously into the camera.
Taehyung could feel Jimin and Seokjin’s eyes on him but he kept staring at Donghyuk, feeling an intense urge to punch him in the face. Say one more thing about her, go on, he wanted to say. But nothing else came, and he tried to settle for his silence as he turned back to the screen.
The trailer was almost over now. A blond driver whose name Taehyung didn’t know was speaking. “Some things this year have been cause for celebration, no matter what,” he said, smiling, before the video cut to him with a baby in his arms.
“How do these people have lives?” Ji-ho asked no one in particular, clicking his tongue again and shaking his head. “They’re flying around for practically the whole year.”
“What are you talking about? So are we,” said Hoseok, shrugging. “We manage,” he added, giving Taehyung a side glance.
“Nah, it’s not the same,” he disagreed. “They have a calendar throughout. I watched this other documentary about this sport - it was really old and it was called…” Ji–ho frowned before shaking his head. “Whatever it was. One of the world champions even said that the toll it took on his personal life was enough too destroy it. But he didn’t regret it,” he added.
A moment of silence greeted this statement. “Yeah,” began Namjoon, and he sounded far more deliberate to Taehyung’s ears, “but you said it was an older driver. Things have changed now. It’s easier to keep in touch.”
Ji-ho gave him a look and squeezed his shoulder. “You guys have such an encouraging leader,” he said in wonder, and no one but Donghyuk laughed in response. “You might be right, though. Most of those drivers bring their girlfriends to every race, so maybe it works.”
Namjoon was stonecold silent while Donghyuk murmured his agreement. “And, uh, and Komyshan,” he said, and Taehyung gritted his teeth. “Does she bring her boyfriend?”
“I don’t know about that,” said Ji-ho dismissively, clicking on the trailer again. It restarted, this time on lower volume. Taehyung tried to focus on nothing but the screen, waiting for Dilara to appear again. Her hair had been slightly styled but still casual. Her smile had been camera-ready, but made his heart skip a beat anway. Come on, baby.
“... doesn’t matter as much,” came Namjoon’s voice, steady but becoming impatient. “It’s about how much time you can give. Even idols actors break up - but so many of them are married and with kids.” He shook his head. “It’s completely subjective.”
“Still, the number of couples who break up are way more,” argued Ji-ho, waving his hand with the remote. “Suzy and that guy - Dongwook - they broke up. Jennie and Kai just broke up, Nam Joo Hyuk and, uh… oh, what’s her name? We met her at that party…”
“How does that matter, hyung?”
“Of course it matters. Oh, it was Lee Sun Kyung! Yes, they also couldn’t…”
Taehyung had to bite his lip to keep from making any movement while his heart sank. He stared at the screen, his heart twisting as he drank in the words around him. 
“Even distance is relative,” Donghyuk was saying, sounding far too sure of himself as he stood up and walked towards where Ji-ho and Namjoon were. “Like in this context, either you bring your partner to every race or -” He snatched the remote from his friend and paused the video, miraculously landing on the same screen of Dilara with the four other drivers, soaked in champagne and laughing under the sun. 
“Or?” Hosoek raised an eyebrow, seeming almost wary of the answer.
“Or you date someone you work with.” Donghyuk shrugged. “Komyshan at least should have no problem finding someone there,” he quipped, and this time even Ji-ho chuckled in agreement.
Taehyung couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone, especially not his members. He didn’t want to see the pity or the apology in their faces, especially when he felt Yoongi squeeze his shoulder again and mutter to him to ignore it.
I told you.
It was Dilara’s voice, and she was on a Zoom call with him. She'd made a point and he'd refuted it, blinded by his love for her. Now, it was all coming unravelled.
Spielberg, Austria; September (Friday) (Dilara)
It’s Free Practice day. 
Dilara wakes up early, reasonably well-rested, and does a couple of rounds of cardio in the backyard before anyone else in the house is awake. By the time she sees Yoongi and Namjoon trudge out with messy hair and puffy eyes, she’s already on her way into her room with a bottle of water in her hand, brushing back her sweaty hair and looking forward to finally getting into her car.
However, as it turns out, even a shower is something she can’t manage in this house without it going to shit. Right in the middle of rinsing out her hair, there’s a loud, gurgling sound before the water stops altogether. She fiddles with the knobs, panicking by the second because she needs to leave in an hour, max, if she’s going to be on time for PR and FP today.
When nothing works, not the basin or anything, she hurries out, wrapped in nothing but a towel. She knocks on what she thinks is RM’s door, hoping for a plumber’s number or something. When he opens the door, he does a double take, clearly not expecting a towel-clad girl with shampoo in her hair to be standing in front of him. But Dilara hasn’t the time to help him adjust to it right now.
“Do you -” She exhales, not realising she’s been holding her breath this whole time. “Do you have the contact of, like, our plumber or the - or any help?”
He frowns. “Um, no. Why? What’s wrong?”
“My shower is broken,” she sighs, fingering the ends of her sticky hair. “The water just stopped all of a sudden and I need to be in the paddock in one hour.”
RM doesn’t look surprised. “Oh, yeah, they told us. Something to do with the motor on the roof. All the rooms on that side of the house -” He points away from him, towards her room. “- won’t have any water till the afternoon.” He gives her a curious look. “There’s a note on the fridge. Didn’t you see it?”
Dilara looks up at him, jaw slack, before she remembers the paper with purple writing on it. She takes a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You mean… the note written in Korean?”
“What?” His eyes go wide before he rolls them. “God, Jungkook…” He looks down at her, biting his lip. “You can use my shower,” he suddenly offers.
Dilara had been looking despondently at the kitchen, somewhat contemplating using the sink to wash her hair, when she snaps around to face him. “Wait… really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course,” he says, sounding more certain than before. “I was just heading out, anyway,” he adds, opening the door wider and showing her a jacket in his hand. “We’re filming for Run today so we’ll be out. Feel free.”
“Oh…” In the face of this unexpected generosity, she’s somewhat lost for words. Even when she grabs her shower gel, lotion and underwear and gets back, she’s still not fully convinced. “You’re really sure?”
“Yes, Dilara,” he says again, ushering her inside and pointing to the bathroom. “Water’s still hot. Oh, and it’s a shared one with Jin’s room on the other side, so remember to lock both doors.” Namjoon gets back to rummaging inside his suitcase before he looks up to see that she hasn’t moved. He sighs. “I thought you had to get to the paddock?”
“Oh, right!” Without further ado, she hops into his shower, noting the lingering and comforting scent of aftershave as she takes off the towel and steps in. Ten minutes later when she’s done, she puts on her underwear, wraps the towel back around her, gathers her stuff and exits the bathroom, twisting her wet hair down one shoulder before letting it fall back. When she sees Namjoon still there, she jumps.
“Sorry, sorry!” He apologises immediately. “I forgot my power bank and my phone’s literally about to die, so…”
“Oh, no, don’t - don’t apologise,” she stutters, feeling her heartbeat come back to normal. “It’s your room. And… thanks, by the way. Really.”
Namjoon smiles, dimples popping. “Of course. Anytime. Good luck today.”
“Thanks.” Dilara nods, returning his smile a bit nervously, and heading out when she hears him inhale. 
“Is that vanilla?” When she frowns and turns around, unsure of what she’s just heard, he seems to realise what he’s said. “I’m not - I’m not being creepy, I swear. It’s just, well... “ He sighs and looks at the ground, looking a bit embarrassed before shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Sorry.”
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, of her in a towel in her ex-boyfriend’s leader’s bedroom, Dilara can’t help but be curious. “Familiar scent?” 
The way his jaw hardens, eyes still on the ground as he nods once, it’s not hard to guess the direction his thoughts are headed in. “Kind of.” He says nothing else, apparently remembering that she’s still here. “Sorry. It’s weird.”
It could be, she realises, but it’s actually quite endearing. Dilara has never heard Namjoon talk about Kaya before, not like this. But she’s careful not to overstep, given that she doesn’t know anything about their relationship apart from what Taehyung had told her several months ago. “This one is cocoa butter and vanilla,” she says after a moment, holding up the bottle of conditioner.
He bites his lip and nods, a distant sort of look on his face. “Still familiar,” he says finally.
Dilara hesitates for a moment, before opening the bottle and gingerly extending her hand towards him. Very aware of her wet hair dripping onto his tiled floor, she waits until he seems to catch on.
Namjoon’s face is unreadable, but he seems to be wrestling with something.  She wonders briefly if he’s struggling not to shed his leader persona in front of her when, visibly hesitating, he lowers his head slightly to sniff the conditioner. The moment he does, his eyes flutter shut momentarily before he swallows and takes a step back. 
“Still familiar?” she asks, a little warily.
He nods, biting his lip. “It’s been a while,” is all he says.
She chuckles, a little sadly but she’s not sure why. “Want to keep it?”
His eyes snap up to her. “Oh, man, I couldn’t do that,” he says immediately, chuckling nervously. “I did think once about buying a small travel size bottle, though,” he confesses sheepishly, his dimples appearing briefly. “Just to carry around. But that’s…” He shakes his head, wincing slightly.
“No, I know what you’re talking about,” she says reassuringly, not wanting him to be embarrassed. “I mean, I did that with -” Dilara breaks off abruptly, realising she was just about to admit to buying a tiny bottle of Christian Dior Sauvage in Italy last year because her boyfriend at the time wore it. Taehyung had been bashful yet turned on by the fact that she liked his scent so much; it made him feel “desirable”, he’d said, as though being the world’s most handsome man and having millions of girls in love with him didn’t do so already.
She pictures the bottle for a moment again, lying on a pile of clothes, the crystal bottle catching the light inside a cardboard box. She looks up at Namjoon to see him with a well-practised, tactful smile on his face and she knows he can guess what she was about to say. Her cheeks heat up slightly and she feels a dull throb in her chest, but she’s quick to move past the moment. She holds up the bottle of conditioner. “Want another whiff?”
He laughs and shuts his eyes, groaning. “Would it be so embarrassing if I said yes?”
Dilara grins and takes a step towards him, allowing him to smell the vanilla and cocoa scented conditioner she  treasures so much. Just when he gives another dramatic shake of the head at the scent and she laughs, the door bursts open and a deep and familiar voice saying something in Korean halts immediately.
She turns to see Taehyung, hand frozen on the door knob, his handsome face for once hiding nothing as his eyes flit between us. The shock on his face is expected; his leader and friend, standing close to and laughing with his ex-girlfriend, her hair wet and nothing but a towel wrapped around her. Next to him, Jimin’s eyes are wide and his pretty lips parted in surprise.
Even though she’s quite certain that Taehyung doesn’t actually think that anything untoward happened between her and Namjoon, Dilara takes a savage sort of pleasure in how incriminating it looks - and how it’s clearly driven him speechless. 
“That’s my cue to leave,” she mutters, snapping the bottle shut and turning back to Namjoon. “Thanks for the shower,” she tells him, taking care to make her words as suggestive as possible. It doesn’t matter that Taehyung doesn’t feel the same about her anymore; there’s nothing worse than your friend hooking up with your ex.
Even as she leaves, she hears Namjoon’s voice, deep and calm, saying something in Korean. She’s sure he’s assuring Taehyung that nothing happened - and she’s sure Taehyung believes it, too. But what stands out to Dilara the most is how his face had fallen and for a moment, she’d hurt him at least a fraction of how much he’d hurt her.
Seoul, South Korea; March (Four months in) (Taehyung)
Her fingers were cold against his skin, and she giggled softly when he flinched. Her lips felt warm in contrast, her lip gloss tasting of cherries and love. Her curls crunched in his hand when he held her to him, smelling of her chocolatey conditioner. Or was it strawberry?
Taehyung’s eyes fluttered open, a slight frown on his handsome face. Moving the glass of vodka and cranberry juice - courtesy Jimin - away from him and trying to ignore the thumping bass, he tried to remember what Dilara’s hair smelled like. Hadn’t he buried his nose in it enough times? Hadn’t he hugged her, held her, made love to her enough that he’d never forget?
“Taehyung!” Jimin’s high voice cut through the loud music, louder than his own thoughts. He jogged up to Taehyung, blond hair a little sweaty and face flushed, but looking energetic as hell. “Dance with us, no?”
He simply shook his head non-commitally, taking another sip of the super sweet drink and trying not to wince in front of Jimin. No part of him wanted to be at this listening party but as usual, no one cared. An even smaller part of him wanted to be at this table, which consisted of a motley crew of guests: a couple members of a debut boy group who were taking selfie after selfie and cheering at each one, a couple at the corner of the booth who were making out in the darkness but succeeding in hiding nothing, a girl in a black dress sitting alone, and three men next to her who were laughing at something - loudly.
Jimin seemed to notice. “At least come get another drink,” he suggested.
Taehyung paused, for it wasn’t the worst idea. “What happens to this one, then?” he asked hoarsely, clearing his throat and pointing at the pink one.
“I’ll drink it,” his friend volunteered, reaching for it without further ado and guzzling it in a flash. “Done. Now come. There’s whiskey - I’d bring it for you but I don’t know which one you like these days…”
Taehyung followed him through the crowd, his shoulders still amidst the bouncing and bopping, trying more than anything else not to bump into anyone. Maybe it was the liquor, he thought hopefully. Maybe he was too intoxicated to think straight and maybe his memory would fix itself once he sobered up tomorrow.
What’s the point? It was a valid thought, one that was made stronger after his sip of whiskey. Drunk or sober, he was across the world from his girlfriend, watching his relationship fall apart while he did nothing, and unable to recall the smell of her hair or the feel of her body against him. It had started off as a coping tactic, trying to imagine her touch every time he started missing her too much, but the longer he had to do it, the more it depressed him.
“Careful!” Namjoon’s voice came from behind him and Taehyung felt him grab his arm and steady him. He peered into his glass, frowning slightly. “Sure you haven’t had enough?”
“It’s a party, hyung,” said Taehyung in a low voice, before stumbling around his leader and going back to his table. Namjoon had been on the phone with Kaya this morning; Taehyung had accidentally overheard him when he’d passed by the balcony in the dorm; while it wasn’t enough to tell what they were talking about, the fact that Namjoon was speaking in English, not to mention his tone softer, the most un-leaderlike he’d ever heard, was enough of a giveaway.
Taehyung didn’t know why, but something about it made him incredibly angry. It was irrational and unfair, he knew, and therefore tried staying clear of Namjoon until he figured it out, lest he say something he regretted. 
Let it go. Look at me. 
Dilara’s voice surfaced in his mind, words she’d said months ago in Austin when he’d been complaining about something or the other. She’d climbed onto his lap, he remembered, and slowly made him face her. He’d tugged at her hips and she’d smiled before silently kissing him. She’d tasted of red wine - Pinotage, her favourite - and as the kiss had deepened, she’d run her hands through his hair and he’d pulled her closer, breathing in the familiar scent… 
Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, registering only vaguely that he was standing in the middle of the club, motionless and with a drink in his hand, while people danced and partied around him. Think, Tae, he thought desperately. It was sweet, like a dessert. He’d jokingly bitten down on her shoulder and neck before, and she’d squeal in surprise but then sigh once she realised…
A new song began and the crowd cheered, jerking Taehyung out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open an he downed the entire glass, suddenly sick of everything around him. He stumbled back to his table, slamming the empty glass down and fishing out his phone with his other hand. Falling into his seat, he opened his WhatsApp chat with Dilara.
I’m sorry about yesterday. I miss you.
Taehyung sent it before he had a chance to think, the words dancing around the bright screen. He continued staring at it, though, waiting for a response, willing her to be thinking about him just like he was thinking about her. The double tick stayed the way it was, however, and her timestamp from the last time she was online stayed firmly at two hours ago.
She was most likely at the factory or in the gym. But in that moment, she’d never felt further away.
How does that feel?
Dilara’s hands were small and cool, travelling slowly up his chest underneath his t-shirt. Her hips rolled slowly into his and her lips pressed softly down his jawline. Taehyung clutched his glass, gritting his teeth, as he tried to picture it without the disturbance of the stupid party. Another hour of hard liquor and forced dancing had made him looser with the quality of daydreaming he was doing, but also made it harder to actually feel her.
Next to him, Jungkook and Hoseok were laughing about something, both looking flushed and happily drunk. Taehyung, who had his head on Jungkook’s shoulder as he stared blurrily into the void, wished he would stop moving so much. Yet, there was something comforting in knowing he wasn’t completely alone right now, much as he felt like it.
He needed quiet. He needed silence, and air. He needed a moment, just a moment’s peace to remember the feel of her shoulders, the shape of her in bed, the goddamn fucking scent of her hair. 
Do you want to go somewhere quiet?
Taehyung couldn’t remember right now why his heart jolted or why his eyes threatened to fill with tears, but as he sat there, biting his lower lip, he knew he couldn’t be here anymore.
“I need a smoke,” he said to no one in particular, clumsily getting to his feet. He felt Jungkook grab his arm as he steadied himself. 
“Are you okay, hyung?”
“Stellar.” Taehyung shook him off and took a few stumbling steps before he got the hang of it, now in pursuit of the smoking zone. He could taste green apple, and he hoped this place, at least, would give him some much needed peace and quiet. 
The club was obnoxiously big, Taehyung felt, and not very well-designed. He accidentally entered a bathroom and almost made his way into the kitchen, both of which could have helped him, but not with what he needed right now. Finally, he found a corridor, dark yet draughty, meaning it was close to a window or a balcony… somewhere. 
Taehyung stopped and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. He hadn’t realised how much he needed fresh air, even if he could smell ramen and rain from the alley next door. Smoke, Tae. Nodding at his own inner voice, he began walking in the same direction when something blocked his way.
“Shit,” he gasped, feeling some of his drink slosh and spill over his hand.
“Sorry.” She stepped back, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor.
The scent of a perfume assualted him before he could place the voice. Taehyung took a step back and blinked in the dim lighting, realising it was the girl in the black dress at his table, the one who was staring forlornly at her drink and not participating in anything.
“Um, no, it’s - it’s my fault,” he stuttered, brushing his hair out of his eyes. She nodded, and when she looked up, he finally realised who she was.
“It’s okay. I’m… do you know where the smoking zone is?” Jennie asked, her words a bit slow and slurred.
Do I ever. “Uh… no. I was looking for it, too.” He leaned against the wall again. “But I don’t think I can walk anymore.”
“Me neither.” Her gaze was on the floor as she mimicked his position on the opposite wall, before she sighed and reached for her shoes. “I can’t wear these anymore,” she muttered, tossing her strappy black heels on the floor.
There was an awkward silence during which Taehyung’s mind swam. His head felt heavy and his throat was suddenly parched. He finished the rest of his drink, barely feeling the whiskey burn his throat. “Do you have a lighter?”
Jennie looked up, as though brought out of a deep thought. “No. But I stole a matchbox from the bar,” she added after a moment, flashing something in her hand that he couldn’t make out, but he had no reason to doubt her.
“Good stuff,” he muttered, fishing his pack out of his pocket and placing a cigarette in his mouth before offering one to her. “Do you vape?” he asked her absently..
“Not really.”
He nodded, waiting as she fumbled with a matchstick until it caught the flame. She lit her cigarette and took a long drag before passing it to him when a gust of wind blew again and the flame flickered and disappeared.
“Hang on,” she muttered, opening the matchbox again before looking up at him. “That was the last one. Sorry.”
Taehyung was fast losing patience with everything now. Without a word - for he didn’t know what he would say to an innocent bystander if he opened his mouth - he took a step towards her and leaned down, touching the tip of his cigarette to hers. She tilted her head up automatically to let him use it and the moment he felt the first taste of nicotine on his tongue, he stepped back.
“I might be the only person having a worse night than you,” observed Jennie after a few seconds of silence.
Taehyung scoffed. “Doubt that.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed, feeling like his chest might cave in. “Sorry. I had a fight yesterday with my… friend.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. His head felt lighter with the nicotine. “Over an Instagram post.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate or mention the guy who’d been seen grabbing his girlfriend and jumping into a pool with her at a party, just like he didn’t want to think about the scathing response he’d given her when she’d defended herself. He’s just a friend. And it was a party. What exactly are you worried about?
Taehyung wouldn’t say it out loud to her, but the need to remind himself of every single detail about her had magnified tenfold since then. Cool hands, soft lips. Small body, wavy hair.
“My boyfriend dumped me over text.”
He looked up, a bit startled. Jennie’s gaze was on the floor again, her cigarette halfway over. Her black hair blew in the breeze, revealing her bare shoulder. 
A memory played on Taehyung’s mind, but he didn’t refer to it. “Why?”
“Said we were too busy. And I was abroad so we couldn’t find a time to call.”
Taehyung took another long drag, vaguely feeling a mixture of sympathy and apathy. “Happens to every couple eventually.”
“Thanks.”
“It sucks.”
“I know.” Jennie chucked the butt of her cigarette on the ground, and Taehyung reached over to put it out. She pointed to his glass. “Can I have the rest of that?”
He didn’t even look down. “There’s nothing in it.”
She walked over and took the glass from his hand, the melting ice cubes clinking together. Keeping her eyes on him, expression betraying absolutely nothing, she drank from it. “You weren’t as thorough as you thought.”
It was strange, really, for these things appeared in the most unexpected of times. Dilara’s lips weren’t as full, but they were softer. She tilted her head to the right more often than not, and Taehyung had to lower his a bit more with her. Dilara’s fingers were less slender against his abdomen, but they unbuckled his belt faster. Her mouth never tasted of rum, but he could still taste wine if he really, really tried. 
As he felt soft kisses trail down his neck, he felt himself smile slightly, for he finally realised what it was. Amidst the unfamiliar rose and lavender, the scent of vanilla and cocoa fought its way through, and he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, trying with every last bit of consciousness to hold onto it.
How does that feel? 
It feels different. 
But it was the closest he’d gotten to in forever.
Melbourne, Australia; March (Four months in) (Dilara)
One month, they're happy. They're on holiday, there's no one but them, only her and Taehyung. He's loving and passionate, and she's fallen further in love than she'd ever thought possible. He's swept her off her feet, and she's let him.
Two months in, they start to see what long distance really is, but they do everything they can to not let it get to them. Taehyung goes back to Daegu for a couple of weeks while Dilara spends two whole weekends with Lexie in the gym and one with Chris and Fred, working  out until she knows she needs to start focusing on the car for the new season again.
Three months in, BTS is back in the studio, writing, recording and rehearsing their next album. From what she hears from Taehyung and Jungkook - and sometimes Jimin - it’s more stressful than usual because of some of the lyrics that the boys have written. 
For Dilara's part, she's back to working out four days a week and spending days together at the factory, going over every micro fitting and part of the car, determined to snag at least P2 in this championship. It means practically living at Milton Keynes, using their gym when she can, going over every race last season and spotting areas for improvement. It’s incredibly exhausting, both physically and mentally, but it’s the last year in her Red Bull contract which means she needs to perform her arse off to get signed again.
She and Taehyung try. They really try. They make dates, promising to watch a movie together or have dinner over Zoom, but one of them always ends up cancelling on the other. Dilara knows he gets frustrated sometimes and she does, too, but it’s too new to fully lash out at each other. 
She's afraid of fighting with him, knowing that making up virtually is so much harder than in person. She can tell that he’s afraid to push her too much, given how long it took him to convince her to be in this in the first place.
Four months in, everything suddenly stops. It’s the second week of March, days away from the first race of the season. It’s nerve wracking in itself, but when she stops receiving replies to her texts and her calls go unanswered, the cold feeling in her lungs starts to heighten. 
For the first couple of days, she tries not to let it get to her. She reasons with herself that he’s busy, unbelievably busy, that it’s the time difference that’s causing all this, trying to ignore the fact that she doesn’t get missed calls from him either.
The week of the Australian GP, when it’s been five days since Dilara's heard from Taehyung and she's sick to her stomach with worry, she starts asking the other members. She doesn’t realise it’s strange until she's texted three out of six of them, asking each whether he’s okay, whether they know where is or why he won’t return her calls, and each of them gives her nearly identical answers. He’s fine, just busy. Don’t worry, he’s busy. Just busy with work. The creeping feeling intensifies and her throat feels like it might close up when she realises she's being lied to.
Dilara doesn’t give up on texting and calling him, though. Out of the other members, she calls Namjoon first, hoping that as leader, he’ll have the decency to at least tell her to her face what she's secretly dreading. 
But he doesn’t answer. Neither does Yoongi, whom she has to muster up a certain amount of courage to call, nor does Jungkook, the closest friend she had in the group, and neither does Jimin, who she knows for sure is the one person who knows what’s truly going on. 
Dilara's mind goes back to the night of the VMAs when they’d all sat her down to try and talk her into this relationship. It was the only time she'd ever felt intimidated by them - them and the unsettling realisation that they were Taehyung’s brothers first and her friends and acquaintances much, much after that. They had Taehyung’s back as they helped him get her, and here they are again, having his back and helping him break her.
Dilara holds off on calling anyone else until she's in Australia, ready to wait a little longer because surely, surely Taehyung would wish her luck before the first race of the season. He would text or apologise or even just tell her to drive safe. He wouldn’t miss this. 
But Thursday passes and so does Friday. Finally on Saturday evening, less than twenty-four hours before the race, she's sick to her stomach about what this means. She borrows Lexie’s phone when they're in the paddock after PR and calls Jimin, knowing he doesn’t have her number saved. When he answers, Dilara feels a simultaneous pang of relief and disappointment.
“Yeoboseyo?” Jimin’s voice, one she hasn’t heard outside of videos in months, sounds like it’s usual upbeat, tinkly self.
For a moment, Dilara can’t speak. When he repeats his greeting, sounding slightly confused now, she finally clears her throat. “Jimin?” There’s silence on the other end and in a rare moment of desperation, she hurries her next words. “It's Dilara. Please don’t hang up.”
“Dilara…” He says slowly, doubtfully. In her head, his eyes dart to someone near him, maybe Jungkook or Hoseok, or maybe even Taehyung himself.
“Jimin, is -” Her voice breaks for a moment and she doesn’t know whether it’s because she's finally talking to one of them or because she's so afraid to hear what he has to say. “Is he okay? Is Tae okay?”
“He’s - he’s fine. He’s fine,” repeats Jimin, sounding uncomfortable but certain. “He’s just -”
“Don’t say he’s busy. Don’t lie to me, Jimin.”
He sighs, and she feels a fleeting stab of pity for him. “He’s… Dilara, he -”
Dilara squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the tears threatening to spill out. “Jimin, please.” She hates how her voice sounds, how small and weak it is. “Please tell me what’s wrong. He wouldn’t do this unless something was wrong, or…” She swallows. “Please. Did I do something? What did I do?"
There’s a shaky intake of breath at the other end of the phone. “Dilara, I’m - I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be talking about this with me, you should -”
“He won’t answer me!” she exclaims, slamming the wall of the enclosure next to her. A few people walking past jump. “I’m sorry, I’m - I’m sorry, I just -”
“No, don’t… don’t apologise.” His voice sounds tight and she's suddenly so, so angry at Taehyung for doing this to him because she's sure as hell that this is his doing. "He's - he's just… busy," he says finally, sounding defeated.
Dilara's heart sinks. She's so tired and so disappointed that she doesn’t even think she can cry right now. "Right." She clears her throat, knowing she's not going to get anything out of him. With an awful finality of a chapter closing, she exhales. "Goodbye, Jimin."
She does everything she can to not think about this the rest of the night. She feels a headache coming on after dinner so she knocks back a couple of Aspirin and crashes. The next morning, the day of the race, she's in her zone as best as she can be, even as a small, hurting part of her waits and waits for Taehyung, Jungkook, any of the members to wish her luck.
By the time the drivers’ parade ends, she wants to kick herself for hoping. By the time she gets strapped into the car, her head is hurting trying to focus on the race and ignoring the humiliation at being ghosted by a guy she was stupid enough to trust in a year.
Dilara's performance is abysmal. She has a bad start from P7, dropping to P11 and staying behind Jehan Daruvala’s Alpha Tauri for half the race. She manages to finish in P8 only due to the team’s pit stop strategy and a lucky safety car, while Max cruises away to take P1, successfully beginning his campaign to contend for world champion. 
The only silver lining is that not a soul is paying attention to her today; she finishes her press interviews in a daze, congratulates Max, apologises to Christian and Helmut, and fucks off out of the paddock as fast as possible. She skims through her WhatsApp on the way to the airport, opening none of the messages she's received, a dull ache in her chest at the heartbreaking yet expected absence of the only one she wants to see.
Lexie knows broadly by now what’s wrong. Dilara hasn't openly confided in her but she’s been with her for nearly a week now; Lexie knows, Dilara knows, and they both know the other knows. But Lexie also knows Dilara doesn't want to talk about it - not right now, anyway. Even before Dilara leaves the paddock, she catches her on the way and offers to come with.
“It’s just a week,” she says, big dark eyes holding concern. “And it’s Chris.” She pretends to gag.
It’s literally the only thing that can make Dilara crack the smallest of smiles, no matter how hollow. “Don’t play with me. Go get your guy.”
“Ugh, there is no way,” she mutters, shuddering. “It’s just a trip. And you’re welcome to join, by the way,” she adds, voice suddenly softer. “It’ll be like Yellowstone again.” The sun sets behind Lexie, making it look like a halo behind her.
“I would be a worse third wheel than usual. Okay, fine, not a third wheel,” she amends quickly, rolling her eyes. “But… I just need to be alone for a bit.”
Lexie bites her lip. “It’s just one race, you know. Bahrain will be better.”
Dilara nods, feeling her face twist and her stomach churning at the thought of today’s race. “I know.”
There’s a pause. “And… he’ll call.” This time, Lexie doesn’t sound so sure.
Dilara looks away, absently watching the pink sky over Albert Park. “I’m not holding my breath,” she mutters. “But don’t worry about me. You and Chris have fun, okay? Get laid and give me all the details. Actually, don’t.”
Lexie nods, giving her a small smile, clearly not fooled by her pathetic attempt at humour. Dilara means what she says to her, though; Lexie's always wanted to see Australia and after a carefully coded conversation where Chris also randomly brought up wanting to stay for a few days, both of them decided to stay back. Dilara tries not to feel too resentful, especially when her mind brings up stolen moments from Suzuka and Monterey and Ischia, resisting the urge to warn Lexie  to not get in too deep. 
The flight back to London isn’t a good one. The first leg of the flight to her layover in Singapore is a nightmare in itself, where she wakes up from a short and uncomfortable nap, suddenly overcome with an intense desire to know what’s wrong, immediately. Her phone is switched off so she requests for a pen and a pad of paper, proceeding to draw an entire timeline of her relationship with Taehyung, beginning from the day they officially got together in Austin. 
It gets progressively worse, reliving every moment they spent together. His voice, his smile, his touch, his laugh, his scent - everything comes up to the forefront of her mind and by the time the plane approaches Singapore, she has a terrible headache.
Dilara doesn’t check her phone again until she's in her hotel room for the night. She's too exhausted to even remember until she gets an email notification from Red Bull PR. To no surprise of hers, there isn’t a single message from Taehyung or the others. She orders a plate of spaghetti, intending to polish the whole thing off but her stomach feels so queasy and she feels like she could break down at any moment, so all she manages is a few bites before she crawls into bed and falls asleep.
The second leg to London isn’t much better. Dilara doesn’t have a headache anymore, but all it means is that she's unable to stop overthinking her relationship. At this point, it’s not unreasonable to assume that she's being dumped. It’s brutal and horrendously dickish, which is the only reason she's putting it at the bottom of the list of things that could be wrong. She wants to believe he is busy. She wants to believe that this is what it’s like to date a member of BTS. She wants to text Kaya, Namjoon's girl, and ask her if this is how it is.
When Dilara finally lands in London, she doesn't check her phone again until she's in the cab. She only opens her phone to get her Uber OTP, but something in the notification tray catches her eye and she clicks it, especially when she realises it’s a message from Lexie. She's honestly not in the mood to see landscape pictures of Melbourne, but the last message simply says I can be on the next plane to London. Just say the word.
Dilara frowns. The timestamp indicates that it was sent less than an hour into her flight from Singapore… so twelve hours ago, approximately. Her thumb hovers over the chat, and she's suddenly so afraid to open it. She has to, though. Sitting at the back of the air conditioned cab, she opens it to see a link, followed by her message.
Somehow, when the link opens, Dilara's heart doesn’t thud and her eyes don’t start watering. It feels like she's numb, like the pictures of Taehyung and this female idol are all she was waiting for to confirm what she probably knew all along. 
There are two pictures; one of them ducking into the same car together and the second, more voyeuristic, of their fingers intertwined in front of them as they talk, standing face to face. It’s taken through a window and they aren’t quite smiling at each other - it’s more like they’re mid-conversation, but it’s one hundred percent him. 
As though she's hypnotized, Dilara scans the rest of the article. It’s by Dispatch; she should take it with a pinch of salt, but pictures don’t lie, not with everything else that's happened. The text tells her the girl is Jennie… Dilara knows the name vaguely, knows the group. From what she can tell, she looks like every other female idol: tall, impossibly skinny, with shiny hair and doe eyes. They’ve been spotted at a recording studio and the pictures apparently date back to over a week, but the news outlet wanted to “confirm” before breaking the news that they’re together. 
The article sounds like trash, like something Daily Mail would put out. But Dilara knows from the moment she reads the first word that it’s true. The article also mentions Big Hit: Big Hit representatives have denied their relationship, citing that they are nothing more than good friends. Given that Taehyung’s never so much as mentioned this girl to her before, combined with everything that’s happened over the last week, she has no trouble believing that Big Hit is bullshitting.
Dilara is back home before she realises she hasn’t responded to Lexie. Don’t bother, is all she says to her friend. Standing in her living room, her fingers itch to do the only thing she has left to do. 
She stares at the door to her room, left slightly ajar. She's still waiting for the tears or something, but the exhaustion has taken over again, now coupled with determination. She leans forward, hands on her knees, and tries to steady her breathing at the thought of this short-lived relationship coming to an end. There’s a vague feeling of sadness somewhere deep down that she knows will erupt later on. She closes her eyes when she feels something brush against her chest. 
It’s the ring. Dilara closes her fist around it, remembering reluctantly how Taehyung had tugged on it playfully when he’d asked her out on a date for the first time. The only time. Looping her finger through it, she feels the sign of a prickle at the back of her eyes. I love you, Lara. He’d meant that… hadn’t he? Whatever happened since, whatever’s happening now, he still loved her… she thinks.
Dilara straightens up and stares at her phone, her thumb moving in slow motion to bring up his name in her recently dialled numbers. She clicks on it and brings the phone to her ear, not even sure she wants him to answer. When he doesn’t after ten rings and the call goes to voicemail, her eyes are dry once more. There’s renewed strength in her legs again; she strides over to her bedroom and retrieves an empty Amazon carton from under the bed that her new coffee maker had come in, and places it open on the bed.
One by one, she places his belongings into it. His black hoodie, neatly folded; his black CELINE t-shirt; a dreamcatcher he’d found in Ischia; a stuffed Octopus plushie he’d bought her in Monterey; a beautiful pink silk scarf he’d sent her for Christmas; a faded copy of Gone With The Wind, the novel that had helped him the most with his English, with notes in pencil scribbled all along the margins that he’d lent to her after she'd admitted she'd never read it, a small bottle of Eau de sauvage, another t-shirt and a couple more of his belongings. 
She even adds the four thousand dollar Gucci jacket he'd bought her for her birthday; even though it's hers in every way, she needs to cleanse herself of everything that has anything to do with him. Apart from that, she has a stack of polaroids, mostly from their summer in California last year, a couple of days in Austin, and at least twenty from their trip to Italy.
Dilara pauses here, wondering what would happen if these were to fall into the wrong hands. Some of the pictures are of him or the boys, and some with her and the boys. It’s public knowledge now that they know each other but there’s a few reasonably intimate pictures as well. 
She briefly reconsiders, but when she flips through them to see the first one he ever took of them, right after their first date in Monterey where they kissed atop a rock overlooking the grey ocean, she unzips the pocket of the hoodie she's returning and stuffs the photos in there, grimly hoping for the best.
At the last minute, she undoes the thin silver chain around her neck and drops the ring in the box, staring at it for a few seconds where it shines dimly on top of the silk scarf. She feels lighter, somehow, but not in a good way. She's empty, as though she's already exhausted all the emotions she's capable of in this situation. Vaguely, she wonders if she's single now, if this marks the moment her relationship came to an end, or if she's been single for a while now but has only just found out.
The thought is too humiliating to entertain so she busies herself looking for tape and scissors, sealing the box as securely as she can. She scribbles his name on top, hoping it doesn’t look too suspicious. Kim Taehyung. She pauses for a moment before deciding to mail it straight to their dorm.
In another five minutes, she's in her car, the cardboard box sitting in the trunk, the last physical remnants of her memories with Taehyung. At the post office, the lady at the counter asks her if the contents are fragile, holding a sticker saying the same in one hand.
“Um…” Dilara licks her lips. “Yeah. I want it to reach in one piece.”
She nods and sticks the tape on the box, smoothing it out with a manicured finger. “What would you classify the contents as?”
Dilara shrugs, suddenly tired again. “Just… stuff I don’t need anymore. Clothes and stuff,” she adds when the lady looks at her questioningly.
She frowns and Dilara knows it’s because none of those are fragile, per se, but she doesn’t argue. When she exits the building, she stops in front of her car and takes out her phone. Systematically, she blocks seven phone numbers, an Instagram account, a Twitter account, and multiple hashtags on both apps. She exits a WhatsApp group and changes her lockscreen. With a slightly heavy heart, she deletes nearly a hundred pictures and over twenty videos from her Gallery. She frowns, wondering if she's forgetting anything. After a moment, she logs onto her Spotify and deletes a playlist.
Just when she climbs into her car, her phone rings.
“Dilara Komyshan?” The voice sounds familiar.
“This is she,” she answers, strapping her seatbelt on.
“I’m calling from the London Post Office,” comes the voice of the woman at the counter. “Miss, the label on your package doesn’t include your name. Would you like me to add it for you?”
This, Dilara doesn’t need to think about. “No, that’s alright. They’ll know who it’s from.”
“Alright. Anything else you’d like me to add?”
“Nothing at all. I’m done.”
~
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)
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The year is coming to its end so it's time for my silly little love letter post 💕 I hope this year has been good for you, or if it wasn't, I'm sending hugs bc same, but hey we made it through! I hope next year brings you kindness, good energy, rest and overall happiness 🥰
Happy New Year lovelies!!
These are not in any order, you're all very important to my tumblr experience <3
♥ @taetaestykookie Marrissa my new bestie to yell about BTS with!!! I love following your bias crisis and making your friends/family members become fans! Even though you live far away and timezones suck I'm so happy to be able to randomly send you stuff in like three different apps all about the same thing... I wish cute Tata/Cooky stuff finds their way to you! Thank you for being my friend, I appreciate you 💝
♥ @washyourdamnhands Kinga, the person who's like a warm comforting hug! Always sending me nice videos and making me smile, I adore you 💕
♥ @asgh0sts Danny, I loooove seeing Exo on my dash and that's because of you, also seeing old Shinee photos makes me cry (but in a good way you know). You also gave me good advice once and I felt so happy!! I've also been thinking about Valentine's Day cards already, and I've been meaning to ask you if you want to receive one from me, so let's say this acts like a question for you and a reminder for me hehe. Thank you for being my friend!! 🧡
♥ @danhalen A person who makes me smile, Reny! The thought of you makes me warm and giggly, I really love to send cards to you (I hope the card that's on its way comes home to you safely!!) and I really appreciate you for being my friend!! 💘
♥ @sepastian-ahoey the Sepe to my Teukka, or should I say a demon for making me get new interests.......... I'm feeling like I'll be following the F1 more next year... We also have a Max document date already planned so I'm waiting for that!!! Thank you for being my friend and tolerating all the rants about kpop that you don't know anything about but still kinda do, I promise to listen to your rants in the future too 💞
♥ @firefighter-diaz oh the broken blorbos.... The reason why I listened to Taylor's new album is this person right here!!!! Also I adore you, sending me postcards from cool places and all 🥺 also helping me with my silly questions and making me feel happier and also making me feel like my jokes are funny! remember hun, coaches don't play!! and!!! I will always listen if you have something on your mind ❣️
♥ @chanstopher Dreamy!! The reason I became even more obsessed with Chris's nose!!! As a nose enthusiast™ this was very nice. I could probably write essays about your talents, but like even if we don't talk much here, I really really really appreciate you. You're so kind and lovely, your art is amazing, you make gifs super fast and they're so pretty every time, and when you show the original coloring vs yours I'm always like h o w. Also I'm still giggling about your kind comment to my Leebit <3333 annnd I love to read your little posts about Chan's room when I can't watch it myself! and I also remember saying I'd show you my paintings but I haven't painted - I drew a horse though - but I'll try to remember it when I paint hehe. I wish all the best for you, may Chris bless us you with cute selfies that show his adorable nose 🥰
♥ @ambivartence Siyuan, the lovely person with who I can have fun ask game answers with! How do I even start. Every time I see your art I smile along the wiggly lines, I try to find little hearts and when I do I feel so warm!! Your art is so warm, I can't explain. Also your Seonghwa and Hongjoong live rent-free in my head, and it's also one reason I should get into Ateez more! You're so kind and lovely and I love to read your tags on posts!! I adore you 💝
♥ next I wanna say thanks to the gc, @fangirlinglikealoon & @heiskasmiro, you make me smile so much you have no idea!! No matter what app we're using to communicate, it always feels so nice to see your names appear in my notifications! I appreciate you so much, just know that 💘💘
annnnd here are some other lovely people that make me smile just by seeing their urls <33
♥ @reedskz ♥ @suklaakuppikakku ♥ @trashkingdom ♥ @joel-farabee ♥ @juhollamago ♥ @diazactually ♥ @yjbg ♥ @finnishhockeyelf ♥ @lily-blue-blue-lily ♥ @bortuzzzzin ♥ @thewestishharpooners ♥ @thosedaysthatwill ♥
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evil8keta · 1 year
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could you do the mercs with a chubby/plus sized s/o?? love ur posts btw!!!!
heck yea!! chubby s/o for the win😎😎
mercs x plus sized reader
SCOUT
- thinks you're gorgeous asf and he WILL make sure you know that, so expect some cheesy pick up lines from him. he loooves showing you off and there's always a huge proud smile on his face whenever he talks about you in front of the others!! also, scout is naturally clingy, but your warmth and softness lure him in even further! congrats, scout is now your personal leech :)
PYRO
- they're chubby too so they can relate!!! pyro thinks you look absolutely awesome and they love you SO much ^_^ they adore how warm you are and how nice it is to hug you! due to them being chubby, they are pretty good at giving hugs....but damn if you're like that too?? you guys have top tier cuddling sessions for real
SOLDIER
- actually doesn't see a difference. this man fell in love with you before he even SAW you. he didn't realize you're chubby until you told him yourself lol. anyways soldier thinks you're the most beautiful person in the whole wide world and he treats you as such, meaning compliments 24/7! if anyone ever dares insult you because of your weight he will kill them on the spot dw bb
HEAVY
- he's also chubby!!! he's a very big man so if you're ever scared of feeling too "big" for love then forget those thoughts right now! heavy will always reassure you and remind you that you DO deserve to be loved!! (also he's gonna consider you tiny no matter what) he thinks you're beautiful just the way you are!! aaand he wants nothing else but to hold you and cuddle you
DEMOMAN
- chubby people are his type not gonna lie. he thinks you're sooo awesome and beautiful and he loves you so much. also demo totally does that thing with you when guys do pushups while their s/o is sitting on their back. he loves holding you!! you will often find yourself being spooned or carried bridal style by demo. world hard and cruel s/o soft and nice (his thoughts whenever you're around him lol)
ENGINEER
- he's ALSO chubby. and he's confident mind you, so if you ever feel self concious about yourself then don't worry!! he will always hype you up by showering you in sweet compliments and kisses. but to be fair, this man will love you no matter how you look. physical appearance doesn't matter to him at all!
MEDIC
- looooves you. i know i'm getting repetitive with saying how all the mercs love you but oh my God it is sooo true! anyways, medic loves touching you in literally any way. if you're somewhere next to him he's just gonna put an arm around you and scoot you closer to his body because you're so somft and warm oughh.... if you're not anywhere near him he's just gonna go find you and bring you to his lab so he can hold you there >:)
SPY
- NO DIFFERENCE, I REPEAT, NO DIFFERENCE! spy doesn't give a shit about how you look! if you managed to make this man fall for you he's gonna be DEVOTED to you no matter what you look like. he does enjoy how soft you are though... sometimes when you two are alone he just comes up to you and holds you. he doesn't say anything and just enjoys how nice and warm you are
SNIPER
- actually thinks you're an ANGEL. he's all boney and scrawny but you're SQUISHY and WARM!! i already mentioned that sniper loves physical touch but if you're chubby he's gonna be even more down bad. he's shy when it comes to initiating the affection, so he often just stares at you as if saying "hey love can we go cuddle now. pls" he just can't get enough of youuu
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not-a-bot-just-shy · 11 months
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Wisteria Intro
CW: murder, needle/drugging, stalking, invasion of privacy, ever-so-slightly suggestive at the end
Shy, quiet, short, frail, and perpetually shivery and sleepy, it’s hard to imagine Wisteria cutting down rivals and obstacles in cold blood.
And it’s true— maybe “cold blooded,” doesn’t accurately describe someone who cries when they’re mad, and thus cries as they cut down faer victims.
Faer weapon of choice is a classic butcher knife.
She also knows her way around a needle to sedate you if you get out of hand.
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Murder isn’t her first line of defense, though. Wisteria likes manipulating you into being loyal to her, before resorting to other methods of keeping you to faeself.
And it’s not difficult to wrap you around her finger.
Wisteria loves being a damsel in distress, and everything about her conveniently screams “in need of protecting.”
She just looks so small and helpless. She’s very short and thin, and is always cold because of it, so you’ll see them shivering and wearing warm, fluffy, pastel purple clothes that drown her small frame. She has fluffy hair with bangs and big, round glasses that obscure her eyes a bit. Her big, downturned doe eyes and small pouty mouth just add to faer overall look.
And faer personality is so meek, her voice so soft, sweet, and quiet, of course you want to stand up for her, even if you’re a bit shy yourself.
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Outside of class, as Wisteria is a grad student, she looooves gaming.
Their parents are rich, so fae has a really nice apartment and gaming setup to come back to everyday. She keeps tabs on your social media pages on one monitor, maybe a live feed from your laptop or phone camera on one, and enjoys anything from stardew valley to COD on another.
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Everything in Wisteria’s life is pastel purple; from their chosen name, to faer hair and clothes, to faer computer setup. It makes her feel very warm and comfortable. There are occasional times she’ll choose something that’s white, pastel blue, or pastel pink though.
They keep a little purple journal on her at all times. It’s filled with sketches of you, and information about you.
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Wisteria is also a passenger princess, a Monster Energy consumer (although it never seems to get faer energy up anyway), and a squishmallow gal.
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One last thing is that, while it might look like you’re in charge from the outside, Wisteria is really the one calling the shots.
Public: “Excuse me, Wisteria didn’t want pickles on faer burger…”
Private: “Yes ma’am, whatever you say ma’am 😳”
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I took a picture of my cats eariler laying together and it made me think of how childe might drape himself across us to make us feel safe, warm, comfy, or whatever other happy fluffy feeling emotions... now I just need to figure how to put pictures in this 😅
(i believe you can put pictures in submission!!! please do if you feel like it because I WANNA SEE YOUR CATS <333)
did you know that it is scientifically proven that having moth Childe drape himself over you heightens feelings of peace and happiness? it's true, ask any scientist and they'll say it's true!!! (that scientist being ME) Childe is very in tune with your emotions!! (because he loves you so so much) so any change in behavior is immediately noticed. at first he was very apprehensive about comforting you- it's not that he didn't want to!! it's just... he's not sure you'd want it, with his new form and all. but once he found out that yes, you'd very much like it if he nuzzled up to you and made you feel safe and warm, the "want to hug but will not because i am afraid i'll get a bad reaction" phase basically turned to DUST
Childe's looooves going over and putting his chin on your shoulder whenever he's curious or wants to remind you that you're not alone!! sometimes you'll be fretting over something, and suddenly there's a weight on your shoulder as Childe hugs you from behind and mrrps!! he's also likes to just... lay on top of you sometimes- in bed, on the couch, in the sunlight, sometimes Childe scoots over and drapes his entire body over yours (he's very careful not to crush you don't worry <33) it's like your personal weighted blanket!!! that purrs and kneads your back!! and also licks your cheek and occasionally even gives you delicate kisses (don't tease him too much he'll get VERY flustered and we don't want that,,,, unless? >:)
(oh and when Childe kisses you, you can feel his cheeks warm up because he's a wonderful flustered Abyss moth <333)
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ticklygiggles · 1 year
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Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season! For the tickly alphabet, maybe E and J for Kageyama from HQ? Only if you want ofc! ☺️
Hello! Thank you very much eheh, I hope you enjoy this!
[Tickly alphabet] - Send no more, pls!
E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?
My wonderful boy Kags asnkdnjsf I think Tobio would say he doesn't enjoy being tickled, but he actually does! However, he'd be super awkward at asking or even hint that he wants to be tickled!
And he would only actually let someone know he wants to be tickled if they're his s/o or he's like suuuper close to that person!
He'd do simply things such as placing his feet on their lap or stretching! If that person just doesn't catch up (or they're acting like they don't know), then Kags would say something like "um... you know... that- that thing you do... with your hands... here?" and he'd point to his stomach or his ribs, aaa he's so precious, please give him his tickles sdjnfjnsdf
If he wants to tickle someone, he'd just do it hahahaha
J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?
Tobio looooves the sensation so so much! He loves feeling the tickling, if that makes any sense?? He also likes being tickled because he feels somehow loved? Like he wouldn't let anyone tickle him, so only very important people to him would do it and it makes him feel nice, like they want to see him laugh and that makes him feel warm inside jsdnfjns
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hall0ween-twn · 1 year
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do u do anon names...?
i am the anon that proposed kitten!irene and overstim and here are what i think the other girls would be:
cougar!seulgi - this is as big as cats can get and still be able to purr (shame, if tigers could purr i would just pick them). little motor, she likes loafing around and just snacking on whatever junk food the girls have in the pantry while vibrating the entire couch with her obnoxious purring. i don't really see her as dom-y as people do, she's got near infinite stamina and looooves double penetration.
puppy!wendy - not a big surprise imo, i think of her as an akita breed. i like to think she has the biggest praise kink - it makes her so wet when you rub the base of her ears and call her a good girl, call her your favorite puppy. she'd be uselessly humping your thigh or shoe after a few minutes because she just can't hold back ♥️
lop bunny!joy who is just the sweetest girl. she's not the smartest though :( dumbification with bunny!joy is honestly all i want, using her all you want while she just takes it because it feels good and her dumb little bunny brain can't take it 😵‍💫 just gushing around you while you nail it into her brain that she is yours
brown bear!yeri who loves watching you fuck the other girls, lazily rubbing her tiny clit until she cums. of course, having asked you if it were okay prior to it, you occasionally wake up to her sucking your nipples, touching herself with one hand and groping your other tit for more stimulation. you're just too tired, letting her do what she pleases but it just feels better half asleep - maybe you liked it too. when yeri considers herself done, she just lays in bed with you. she's comfy to lay on, warm like your own personal furnace🥺
yes, i do anon names! i haven't had anyone ask me so any emoji or nickname is available for the taking.
ahhhh these are so cute, especially bunny!joy. need to adopt these babies so bad.
i love it when you scratch behind their ears and they get all quiet and needy, whimpering as they rub their thighs together and clench around nothing. do that when they're on the edge of cumming and they'll cum, body shaking from the euphoria.
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