#bruno x oc smut

[thebiggestnope]

Prophetic Hijinks: Elena + Breeding Kink Bruno

NSFT. 18+. Minors scram. CW: Breeding kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering Last week I was chatting with @prophetic-hijinks how I think her version of Bruno would have a breeding kink. So I wrote this smut drabble about it. If you aren't reading the @prophetic-hijinks comics (and the racier blog @hijinks-after-dark) you're fucking up.

Elena belongs to @prophetic-hijinks. Bruno's Breeding Kink

It could happen any time he and Elena made love, and the thought was driving him wild.

He and Elena knew that they were going to have twins. The vision tablet proving it was hanging framed in their bedroom. So the question wasn’t if Elena would get pregnant. It was when.

They’d scanned the tablet together for clues as to the timing, but to no avail. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Elena had said when they’d recognized they’d get no further hints. “All the other moments from the vision have come to pass already, ​​so that means whenever we make love, it could be the moment we conceive.”

Bruno had agreed with her – it was exciting. Any time the two of them joined, it might be the start of their family. The thought had made his heart flutter. 

But in the days that followed, Bruno realized that Elena’s revelation had affected him far beyond a fluttery heart. Every time the two of them were intimate, he’d found himself thinking about how this might be the time that he got Elena pregnant and it… did something to him. He’d picture all of it: Elena ripe with his seed as her stomach filled out and her breasts swelled to nourish his children. Elena as a mother, warm and sweet and elated. Himself becoming a father and getting the future they both wanted.

He’d think about how he had the power to bring on all of that change – to grow his wife’s body, to alter their lives, to create new life – and it would send him reeling. He’d go feral with passion, taking hold of Elena’s hips and bottoming out in her.

Elena had noticed his increased enthusiasm – not only had Bruno been more ardent in their private moments, he’d also been asking for her to play him a lot more love songs than usual. (“Elena, would you play me a love song?” was Bruno code for, “Elena, would you like to be intimate with me?”) She enjoyed the attention, but she was curious what had gotten into him.

One evening she decided to finally ask him. Bruno had led her back to their room after dinner – for a love song, of course – and when they were alone behind closed doors, Bruno took her by the hand and kissed her with more fervor than she was accustomed to from her timid husband, his aching erection already pressing into her.

“Mi amor, so amorous for me lately,” she said with a gentle laugh when Bruno came up for air.

Bruno flushed. “Heh. You’ve noticed?”

“Yes, and I love it,” she said, quick to reassure him. She kissed him again to show him just how much she loved it. “But is there a reason?”

Bruno smiled at her shyly. “I’ve been thinking about what you said – about how any time we’re together, it could be the time we start our family.” He placed his hand on her stomach, his long fingers stretching across her. “I guess it’s been making me rather… eager lately.”

Elena sighed happily. “Oh Bruno, that’s so sweet.” She looked him over – his eyes brimming with adoration for her, his cheeks red with excitement. “You know,” she said, her tone sultry. “If you’re so eager, there are certain positions we can do that will, ah, make it easier to conceive. You might like to try them.”

Bruno’s eyes widened. “You mean they don’t all work?”

Elena giggled. “They all work, but some of them work better than others. Really the idea would be to make it easy for you to get deep and to be in a position that keeps the, ah, results inside me.”

Bruno inhaled slowly. “Dios mio.”

Elena gave him a heated look from under her eyelashes. “Another way is to make sure I finish when you’ve already… filled me.”

Bruno swallowed. “I think I can arrange that.”

Elena took his hand and led him to the bed. “Then arrange it for me, Papi.”

Bruno groaned and kissed her again, letting his hands wander everywhere. He found himself picturing what Elena looked like pregnant – he’d seen it for himself in his vision – and the next thing he knew, his passion had taken over. He got rid of his own clothes and tugged at hers, pulling off her dress and bloomers, his hands more confident than usual as they explored her body. Elena’s breathing was growing heavy, and Bruno could feel himself getting dizzy with how much he needed her. 

“Want me to show you one of those positions I was talking about?” Elena whispered.

Bruno nodded. “Okie dokie.” As the words left his mouth, he scolded himself. Why did he still say such stupid stuff in the heat of the moment?

Elena didn’t comment on it; she merely smiled at him. Then she got onto her back, lifted her hips, and put a pillow under her sacrum. “Come here, Papi,” she said, and Bruno groaned again. He positioned himself between Elena’s legs and gasped as he entered her. The angle of her hips let him get so deep – so impossibly deep. He trembled as he lay on top of her, feeling her heated skin against his own, and so felt close to his wife, so close to the future they were making together, that he had to fight back tears.

Elena began to buck her hips against him, and he matched her rhythm, losing himself to her, staying connected with her body as they moved in time with each other. He’d come to realize lately that Elena could know his body better than he did, because he hadn’t realized how close he was until Elena whispered hot in his ear, “Cum for me, Bruno. Fill me up. Give us our babies.”

Bruno moaned and held onto Elena as he pumped her full of his seed, making sure to give her every last drop. Elena’s hips were still twitching when he finished, and her voice was husky as she moaned for Bruno to finish her. With her hips still elevated on the pillow, Bruno worked her with his long piano fingers until she followed him over the edge, and for a long while afterwards they held each other, spent and happy.

“You know, it’s funny,” she said after a time. “After so many years with Carlos, and after so many years of trying for a baby, it’s still a wonder to me that any of this is happening at all.”

Bruno never thought of himself as a traditionally masculine man, or as a particularly virile one, but remembering that he was besting Carlos in yet another area of Elena’s life made his heart speed up.

“Hey Elena,” Bruno asked as he curled his arm around her body. “Would you like to play another love song?”

#elena oc #hijinks after dark #bruno madrigal smut #bruno x oc smut #bruno madrigal x oc smut

[prophetic-hijinks]

A scene from the latest chapter of @thebiggestnope fic “the training of Bruno Madrigal”.

The fic is lovely exploration of the healing that can occur through healthy intimate relationships, but is very explicit. So minors DNI

#bruno x oc #bruno madrigal smut #bruno madrigal #@thebiggestnope #prophetic hijinks art #prophetic hijinks fanart

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Hopefully, that would be enough to get Bruno’s attention. Hopefully, Bruno didn’t mean what he’d said. Hopefully, he was willing to do something as conspicuous as leaving his mother’s conversation in order to fulfill his promise to Pepa.

That was a lot of “hopefully”.

Pre-movie AU, cw: dream sex and masturbation in the beginning

Ch 1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 11 Recasting

Sunday morning found Bruno lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering what was wrong with him.

Sometimes, Bruno had prophetic dreams. Never anything huge, never anything that resulted in a tablet, just little snatches of scenes. Glimpses of the inevitable, the pieces of his day that were already set in stone. Sometimes these dreams heralded the perfect birthday gift, sometimes they heralded a tear in the knees of his favorite trousers, but usually they told him he would hear a bird caw while he just so happened to be staring at the clock, or he’d hold a spoon at dinner.

Last night, Bruno did not have a prophetic dream.

Nope.

Last night, Bruno had a dream that by all means should have been a nightmare, should have been disgusting, and terrible.

It started out normal enough. He was at a party somewhere that was simultaneously Casita’s courtyard and his favorite spot by the river. Pepa was being carried bridal style around the party by Felix while Cicero watched through gauzy white curtains. Reina emerged from the river wearing a villainous black gown and a sparkling crown. When her eyes landed on Pepa she grinned haughtily.

Bruno had swept forward to intercede, “Don’t even try it.”

“There are a lot of things I’d like to try, guapo,” her eyes had raked him up and down and her grin had turned flirty.

“You can’t try anything, not unless you behave yourself,” the scene changed around them so they were now in the cheese stall, only the stall was in Bruno’s vision cave instead of the market.

Whereas before she’d been standing right in front of him, now she was suddenly twenty feet away. She closed the distance, hips swaying with every step, “And how exactly would you like me to behave, Big Bad Bruno?”

“You need to be nice,” Bruno had said, catching her by her suddenly bare shoulders before she could reach him. She had giggled and reached out to run her hands down his chest, apparently not caring that her royal gown had just turned into a barely there silk slip. 

“What’s in it for me?” she whispered, although her mouth remained stuck in a sultry pout.

“Come with me,” he’d pulled her out of the cheese stand by her wrists, walking backwards and magically not tripping despite the fact that his eyes had never left her face. When he pushed backward out of his vision cave he found himself walking down the stairs at the entrance of his room, Reina now carried in his arms. When they got to the last step the sand curtain parted to reveal the secret cavern under the stairs and he took her into the tent he thought of as his real bedroom.

Bruno laid her down on his bed and she wasted no time pulling his face to hers, kissing him deeply with a satisfied hum. After a few minutes he pulled back and pinned her down by the shoulders.

“Do you promise to be nice?”

“If you make it worth my while,” she breathed, untying the belt holding the lace robe she was now wearing. Slowly, she opened it, revealing herself to him.

Bruno watched his own hands caress her stomach and his fingers gently squeeze her breast. She gave him soft words of encouragement and from there the dream lost its thread. It became a slideshow of unfortunately enticing images. One second he was exploring her naked body with shy touches and the next he was sucking ardently at the underside of her breasts and the instant after that he was rutting into her as she offered him gentle praise. The images repeated themselves in no particular order and the scenery changed in the erratic way dreams had.

But every glimpse of a moment had the same focus, him and Reina in his bed.

When he woke he was hard as a rock and his mind kept unhelpfully replaying the image of her opening her robe for him. The details had been fuzzy, but the very idea of it was just… 

He gulped. 

He needed to get ready for church, but he couldn’t exactly hide his current state in his Sunday best. The obvious solution was to… take care of it, but he couldn’t do that! Not if he’d be thinking about Reina while he did it. Not again! 

It seemed extra bad to do this when she was upset with him. At least the last time he had done it she’d given him every reason to believe she wouldn’t mind if she knew. This time… this time she would probably mind.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her opening her robe, a sultry gleam in her eye.

Ay dios, something must be terribly, horribly, incredibly wrong with him. But what else was he supposed to do? Go to church with a raging hard on? He slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

Ok. Ok! He’d make this quick.

Bruno pushed the shorts he wore to bed down his hips until he got his hands on his dick. He didn’t bother with lubricant, he sort of felt like he didn’t deserve it, not when he was masturbating to the idea of his arch nemesis undressing for him.

Where had this even come from?! Sure, she was beautiful, charming, and mysterious, but, but, he didn’t even like her. He didn’t. He definitely didn’t want to see her naked, pin her to his bed, play with her breasts until the nipples hardened and bury himself in her. Sure, maybe she would purr compliments and praise into his ear, tell him how handsome he was, how desirable he was, how good he felt inside her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear those things. A-at least, not coming from her.

Joder, yes he did. Just the thought of her fingers running through his hair while he sucked on her neck and pumped himself into her, desperate and for once in his life unrestrained, had him whimpering quietly in his bed. And the idea of listening to her praise him, tell him how wonderful he made her feel, had him spurting off all over his hand.

He closed his eyes and breathed raggedly. What was wrong with him? The villagers were right, he was creepy. How was he ever going to face her again? Maybe he should just give this whole thing up.

No. he couldn’t do that. Pepa had asked him to keep her and Cicero separated. He would stick it out, for her sake. 

He’d just have to do a better job of not liking Reina, no matter what.

Mind made up, Bruno cleaned himself and got dressed for church. He stayed silent through breakfast, which his family was used to, and avoided his own gaze while he brushed his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. As they walked through the town, one of his sisters on either side of him, Bruno kept his eyes on the ground, just in case they passed Reina.

If he had been paying more attention he would have noticed his sisters both waving cheerfully at Leandra and Rosalie as they passed the pair sitting in the back of the church.

Leandra eyed Bruno as he shuffled into his seat in the front row. He appeared deep in thought. She had spent the rest of Friday afternoon complaining to Leche about the whole situation. She had reimagined the argument with Bruno so that he had an epiphany half way through and suddenly, magically, understood that Cicero was the one who had hurt Pepa, not her. Then he’d be suitably apologetic about allowing his assumptions to override the time they’d spent getting to know one another, agree to take her out to dinner to make up for it, and vow to work with her to bring Cicero down.

Now that she saw him, she found herself worrying that he was going to make good on his accidental threat to leave her in the hands of a rapist.

She couldn’t risk it, she needed to find a better way to keep herself safe from Cicero. Or, fix the situation once and for all.

“He’s very kind,” Rosalie interrupted her thoughts.

“Hm, what?”

“Bruno, he’s a very kind man,” Rosalie was grinning at her, holding little baby Julio in her arms, “when I was staying with them he caught on to the fact that men make me uncomfortable and he went out of his way, in his own home mind you, to give me all the space I needed. You could do a lot worse.”

Leandra quickly checked over her shoulder where her father was chatting with Señora Ruiz, “Ay, say it louder why don’t you.”

“I would, but we’re in a church,” Rosalie teased.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I wouldn’t date Bruno,” she whispered, “but the situation’s kind of… complicated.”

“How so?”

Thankfully, Leandra was saved from answering when Padré called for everybody’s attention. She allowed herself the petty pleasure of thinking to herself it was all he was good for, even if she knew that wasn’t true.

Rosalie paid polite attention to the sermon, although her brow twitched whenever Padré remarked on the virtues of kindness and the evils of apathy. On one occasion, he accidentally made eye contact with Rosalie, and immediately stumbled over his words as his eyes flicked down to the babe in her arms and back up. Rosalie did him the favor of turning her attention from him to Julio. 

Leandra wondered if anyone else heard Rosalie mutter, “Hypocrite.”

Maybe the real reason Padré wanted to build a bigger church was to make it easier to avoid looking at people sitting in the back row. 

Idly, Leandra mused over what would happen if Padré found out that Cicero was the wolf in sheep’s clothing that walked among his flock. Would he cast Cicero out? Condemn him the same way he’d condemned Rosalie? Or lecture and pontificate about forgiveness.

Padré instructed them to open the bible and Leandra took a beat longer than the rest of the congregation to do so. She was the only one that saw the look Padré gave Rosalie.

Oh yeah. That guy definitely knew he’d messed up, bad.

The only question was, did he have the courage to do anything about it. If he did, stopping Cicero would become a whole lot easier. With both him and Señora Madrigal backing them up, Leandra, and Cicero’s victims wouldn’t need to jump through hoops to get the rest of the village to believe them. Nobody wanted to be the guy who ignored the word of the only holy man in town for a bottle of wine.

Of course, that would mean asking Rosalie, Pepa, and Señora Madrigal to trust said holy man, which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Not after that stupid sermon.

It would also mean telling Rosalie about everything Cicero had done in the past year.

How would Rosalie feel if she found out he’d tried the same thing he did to her on at least one other woman, probably three, and maybe more. What would happen to little Julio if it got out that Cicero was the father? Would people try to pressure Rosalie to let Cicero into her son’s life?

It was for the best that Rosalie never came into contact with him ever again. Not that that was actually possible in such a small village, but in the past year, she had only ever spoken to him once that Leandra knew of. 

She didn’t know exactly what went down, she had been talking to Félippe and had looked up to see Cicero had cornered Rosalie. This was back when she was just beginning to show. They had rushed over and Cicero’s glare had turned into an easy going smile, he gave them a friendly nod before walking away.

There had been other times Leandra had caught him staring at Rosalie, or Julio, but he never made a move.

Leandra wished she could erect a force field around her friend, she wondered if she went to Casita and asked the candle to catapult Cicero into the sun, would anything happen. Rosalie had been through enough, the last thing she needed in her life was more Cicero.

Still, Rosalie needed to know what was happening. Honestly, Leandra probably should have told her from the very beginning. 

When the service ended and people began milling about, talking amongst themselves, Leandra quietly told Rosalie that she needed to tell her something very serious. 

“Uh-oh, now you’ve got me all nervous,” Rosalie joked in her quiet way, “are you breaking up with me? Was it something I said? I swear, I can change.”

Leandra smiled, wryly, “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just… it’s kind of a doozy. It’s something I should have told you about sooner but I didn’t want to, to upset you, I guess. I-It’s pretty upsetting.”

“Oh,” Rosalie hummed and bounced Julio in her arms as he began to babble and coo in response to the mumble of multiple conversations, “so, we should probably have this upsetting conversation in private?”

“Si,” Leandra nodded, and the two women stood as one, it went without saying that they would have this conversation near Julio’s crib in case he needed a nap. Leandra told her father she was going to spend some time with Rosalie and he wished them a fun afternoon.

“Is this conversation about why you and Bruno are ‘complicated’?”

She rolled her eyes, as they passed through the open doors of the church, into the sunlight. It was a beautiful day and people lingered in the town square to chat and enjoy the gentle breeze. Leandra caught a glimpse of Padré speaking to the town doctor, they made eye contact and she neglected to greet him. Instead, she walked a little closer to Rosalie.

“Well, yeah, si, that is a part of it. But it’s a small part,” Leandra grinned mischievously at her friend, “although, the whole Bruno thing is the best part. Turns out that under that ruana and bad posture the man has the body of a-.”

Leandra cut off when Rosalie froze, face going pale. She clutched her baby closer to her chest and squared her shoulders. Leandra gulped, knowing without turning her head what she was about to see, and sure enough, when she followed Rosalie’s gaze she found Cicero coming straight for them.

Leandra looked frantically around, her eyes landing on the Madrigal family. The triplets were standing politely still while Señora Madrigal laughed with a few members of the choir. Bruno was still staring at the ground, apparently pondering the meaning of life or something.

“Señorita Lopez,” Cicero greeted, making it as obvious as he could that he was ignoring Rosalie entirely.

Leandra stepped ever so slightly in front of Rosalie and in her loudest, most enthused sounding voice, cried, “Cicero! It’s been a while since we spoke! How did you like the service?”

Hopefully, that would be enough to get Bruno’s attention. Hopefully, Bruno didn’t mean what he’d said. Hopefully, he was willing to do something as conspicuous as leaving his mother’s conversation in order to fulfill his promise to Pepa.

That was a lot of “hopefully”. She really, really, needed to find a more permanent solution to the whole Cicero problem.

“Oh, it was wonderful, Father really is on a roll, isn’t he?” Cicero’s eyes flickered to Rosalie, “I particularly liked the one about drunks being an affront to god.”

“Really?” Rosalie responded, voice cold, “I really liked the one about lechers burning in hell.”

Leandra glanced over at Bruno, he was watching them with wide eyes. She looked pointedly at Cicero, then smirked.

“Oh? I would think a woman of your nature would find that part rather worrying,” Cicero sneered.

Come on Bruno, come on.

“God knows what happened that night,” Rosalie held her head high, “somehow I doubt my son will meet his father in heaven.”

Cicero briefly scowled, but wiped it off his face quickly and turned back to Leandra with a smile, “Honestly señorita, it is perhaps unwise to associate with somebody who has Rosalie’s… history.”

Leandra squared her shoulders, determined to defend her friend regardless of the risks to her own safety,“I-.”

And then she was cut off by the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, “Hola Cicero.”

Cicero practically jumped out of his skin at Bruno’s sudden appearance, “Br- Señor Madrigal! Hola. Hi.”

Bruno stepped in between the women and Cicero, his voice low and dripping with irony, “You know, it’s funny, I haven’t seen you hanging out with Pepa lately. Did something happen between you two?”

Cicero gulped, clearly thinking Bruno was referencing Pepa’s being drugged, “Look, Señor Madrigal, I know things look bad, but it’s not what you think.”

Bruno made a doubtful sound, “Right, yeah, I’m sure this whole thing is a big misunderstanding.”

Cicero nodded, he opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the crash of thunder. Everybody whipped around to see Pepa standing not ten feet away, a storm cloud building over her head. Her eyes were trained on Cicero, suddenly a bolt of lightning scorched the Earth a mere foot to his side. He yelped and stumbled away from it.

“Cicero,” she hissed, she tried to say more but seemed to be choking on her anger, the wind whipping around her, finally she growled, “Stay away from them.”

There was a pause as he looked between the two Madrigals, then Leandra, and finally, Rosalie. Something passed across his face, but she didn’t know what it was. Maybe his eyes were widening out of fear, or maybe he’d just realized something, maybe that was the look of a crazed man; maybe his jaw tensed due to the stress, maybe he was frustrated, maybe he was determined. Before Leandra could figure it out he had turned and walked away.

The storm faded as he retreated. Once it was gone, the only sound in the town square were Julio’s cries. For a few seconds, nobody moved.

Señora Madrigal walked over, calm and poised as always. The entire village was watching them, and looking to her for context, she looked first at Rosalie and Leandra, “Are you girls ok?”

There was a mumble through the assembled crowd.

“Si Señora,” they said in unison, then Rosalie excused herself to calm her son down.

Señora Madrigal turned next to her own son, “Bruno, it was very brave of you to stand up for these young women, I am very proud of you.”

Bruno blinked, stuttering over a question his mother silenced with a hand.

“Would you please make sure they get home safely?”

“Uh, si Mamá,” he agreed.

Señora Madrigal turned towards her daughter but found that Pepa had already run off, which explained how the storm had died off so quickly. With a bracing breath, Alma turned to Cicero’s father, Señor Gutierrez. She looked him up and down as if appraising him, then pursed her lips, “Perhaps you should have a conversation with your son about the proper way to court a young lady. I think it is time the young man settled down, before he runs out of skirts to chase, don’t you?”

With that she turned and walked away, beckoning Julietta to follow her. The rumor mill began churning out story after story as everybody tried to cobble together what had happened before Pepa Madrigal had called all of their attention with a thunderbolt.

It was no secret that Cicero enjoyed the company of women perhaps a bit too liberally, but surely the son of such an upstanding pillar of their community wouldn’t go too far, would he? Then again, in the past year he’d dated four girls and each of them avoided him like the plague once it was over.

And did you see the way Pepa reacted to him? She’s had a couple of bad break ups, but have you ever seen her that angry before? What did Cicero do that would warrant that sort of reaction?

Bruno watched his mother walk away, very confused. He turned to ask Reina what just happened but found her gone. After a panicked second he saw her standing in the shade, having a hushed conversation with Rosalie while she allowed Julio to play with one of her fingers to calm him down. Bruno walked over as quietly as he could, trying not to pull attention their way.

“-isn’t what I planned, but what was I supposed to do? Just let him get away with everything?!” Leandra hissed, not noticing Bruno coming up behind her.

“Si, exactly. You’re going to get yourself hurt,” Rosalie answered.

“No. No! It isn’t right, Rosalie, you’ve suffered so much while Cicero just… goes on playing his little games,” she shook her head, “I can’t stand it, it chokes me, whenever I see him I- you didn’t deserve- nobody deserves-. It isn’t fair!”

“Life isn’t fair,” Rosalie snapped, “believe me.”

“It can be though, if we fight for it. If we play this right, he-.”

“What then? What’s your plan? What are you going to do?” then Rosalie noticed Bruno standing nervously behind Leandra, she put on a polite smile, “Hola Señor Madrigal, thank you for intervening back there. Cicero was being quite unpleasant.”

“O-oh, I-, n-no problem,” he looked at Leandra, who was avoiding his gaze. Seriously, what was happening? 

When he’d abruptly left his mother’s side he’d been expecting a lecture for being rude, but Reina had thrown him that smug little smirk and well… he’d made a promise to Pepa.

Instead, his mama was proud of him and everybody seemed to be angry at Cicero. Everybody seemed to know something that Bruno didn’t.

“We should get going,” Leandra said, “Julio is cranky after all this excitement.”

“This conversation isn’t over,” Rosalie told her quietly.

Leandra sighed, “I know.”

The two women started walking and for a second, Bruno just stood there watching them go. If he hadn’t promised his mom he’d walk them home, he would go back to Casita and ask Pepa what was happening. He shook his head and sighed, then hurried to catch up with them.

Nobody said a word the entire walk to Rosalie’s house.

#Bruno Madrigal #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal smut #Love and Fury

[capypub]

Bruno Madrigal (Encanto) Masterlist

Summer Wine (Completed)

Bruno Madrigal x OFC

Rating: T - M (chapters vary in rating)

Bruno can’t help but be drawn to beautiful little bartender who so openly flirted with him, unbothered by the rumors and stories. She’s everything he ever wanted to be, confident, comfortable around people, and able to bring out the best in those she serves. Over time, as they grow closer, she begins to bring out parts of him he never knew existed, courage, dominance, and perhaps a bit of jealousy…

Chapter 1 Chapter 6 Chapter 11 Chapter 16

Chapter 2 Chapter 7 Chapter 12 Chapter 17

Chapter 3 Chapter 8 Chapter 13

Chapter 4 Chapter 9 Chapter 14

Chapter 5 Chapter 10 Chapter 15

Dancing With the Double-Edged Sword (Completed)

Bruno Madrigal x OFC

Rating: T- M (Chapters Vary)

Summary: When Bruno introduced Hernando to the family, his sisters and mother thought he was simply playing games, but as they grew older and Hernando continued to grow with Bruno, they realized that he might be here to stay. After many failed attempts at “curing” Bruno, the family eventually grew used to Hernando’s presence, learning to recognize the signs of when they were interacting with Bruno and when they were interacting with Hernando. Although their personalities may differ, they continue to share the same body. Now they must learn to maneuver romance together as they pursue the same woman. Likewise, she learns how to love two versions of the same man, finding pieces in each of them that only draw her closer.

Chapter 1 Chapter 6 Chapter 11

Chapter 2 Chapter 7 Chapter 12

Chapter 3 Chapter 8 Chapter 13

Chapter 4 Chapter 9 Chapter 14

Chapter 5 Chapter 10 Chapter 15

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal fanfiction #bruno madrigal fanfic #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal smut #bruno madrigal x ofc #bruno madrigal encanto #bruno madrigal fluff #bruno madrigal x oc #encanto fanfic

[daisys-gard3n]

Nighttime Sweetness {Bruno x Fragola x Leone}

warning: smut/sexual content, spitroasting

commission for @snlangford

With the dull sound of keys jingling on the other side, the door eventually swung open to allow whoever into the apartment. The sounds of shoes thudding as they were shrugged off echoed, leaving only the thudding of their feet to pad deeper into the apartment. The lights were switched on to welcome the owners back home. Fragola placed her purse down on the counter, laughing a little alongside a conversation with booze slowly bubbling in her system. She wasn’t sure how much she drank, it was just fun between her and the two men she loved. Alongside dinner and pleasant conversation, bottles of wine were emptied into everyone’s glasses and drunk to their hearts content. A pair of muscular arms looped in between her arms and firmly caught the brunette into a warm coil, the alcohol in Fragola’s system bubbling more with glee as she laughed – knowing who it was from the scent of bergamot and ocean greeting her nose, alongside the gentle kisses pressed from her cheek and traveled down to her jawline.

“Had fun tonight, Cara?” Bruno asked, slowly bringing Fragola’s body into a slight rock. Her hands found their way onto his forearms as she let out a satisfied hum. “Mm-hm.”

“That’s good, it’s been so long since we went out…Had to make it a little special, no?” Fragola allowed her lover to bend down and casually tickle her skin with those warm kisses. Her heart was beginning to pick up its pace as she reveled in the feeling. Eventually, her attention was pulled away from Bruno for the moment when a pair of waxy-textured lips pressed onto her – cold fingers lacing themselves into the depts of her brown locks. The kiss was a bit rough, as he was trying to be gentle. The wax of his lipstick rubbing against her burgundy-coated ones. Leone pulled away with a quiet pant, the amorous spark in the taller man’s lavender-lemonade gaze only blew the flames slowly burning inside of Fragola veins. With a teasing giggle, she tilted her head questioningly.

“Aww, were you jealous? Was I not giving you enough attention?”

The small ‘hmph’ leaving Leone’s mouth only made the mischief in Fragola spark more inside of her, egging her to just keep pushing him. Icy blue eyes curling into crescents with her smile whilst Bruno watched quietly. He knew exactly what was going to result because of this, this gentle teasing to get Leone’s gears grinding – she does it purposefully anytime the three of them were together. Fragola only wants to see how much she can push Leone until the inevitable.

“If you wanted a kiss, all you need to do was ask. It’s okay to voice your need, Mon Cher~” The fingers that were laced in Fragola’s roots slowly slid out, tracing down the curve of her cheek and down her chin until they wrapped around the base of her throat. Palm pressing into her choker and fingers squeezing carefully and oh so gently. Fragola inhaled sharply, that smile still curled on her lips that was smudged with added lilac.

“Keep running that mouth and you’ll be needing to voice yours.”

Bruno’s smile could only curl out of mischief with Fragola and Leone’s banter, his hands deciding to follow suit with Leone’s and wander as they pleased. The cute gasp that slipped past her now plum-colored lips before getting silenced by the other man’s lips breathed flames inside of Bruno. Fingers teasingly tracing each little stich of Fragola’s dress with lips pressing against her ear, playfully muttering.

“Let’s put that playful mood to good use, Cara. Hm?”

Slow yet passionate. Gentle yet wild. That’s how Fragola could explain the moments after, danced to the bedroom with the two men until she was tossed onto their large bed. Lips pressed against hers messily and hands now free to roam and slip into wherever they wanted, even grabbing ahold of the zipper of her dress and guiding it down to expose her body. Leone’s kisses were rough and took the breath out of Fragola’s lungs as their tongues danced, even earning a quiet ‘slow down’ from Bruno before he went back to his spot on her pale neck. Bruno’s kiss was different, he already had a sense of pacing with the gentle massage of his lips against Fragola’s. Keeping her attention on him with his hands reaching to grab a handful of her breasts, hot calloused fingers caressing those sensitive nipples and giving and occasional light pinch. Each cute gasp and squirm the shorter woman made in his lap only made Bruno undeniably harder. All while Leone’s cold calloused fingers traced patterns into the plush of her skin, hooking them around the waistband of her underwear and yanking them off to reveal his treat. Purple lipstick kisses trailing all over Fragola’s pale skin and leading to the sweet honey of her sopping cunt, a loud and lewd kiss pressed on the lips before diving in.

It was rather dizzying, moments blurred and the touch of these two men made her burn with arousal. The gentle yanks of her brown locks and domineering gesture of grabbing her face to make her look at one of them guided her through the whirlwind of this night. Now laying on her stomach and looking at Bruno watching intently from a chair nearby while Leone bottomed out in her, the stretch stung for a moment, but it was replaced with the tightness in her loins that appeared once more – her gummy walls snug around the silver-haired man’s cock and arousal coating him sufficiently, the slick helping him move easier in her with each thrust. Leone’s pace quickly roughened, yet he controlled himself enough to go overboard. Comforting hands leaving her waist and feeling up her marked body, Fragola’s ice-blue eyes rolled up with pleasure and drool leaking from the corners of her now mulberry smeared lips. They sung the sweetest song of moans and pants with each pump into her, her fingers grabbing ahold of the sheets for dear life and legs shaking keeping her hips up for Leone.

“Doesn’t our sweetheart look good like this, Bruno?” Leone cooed, a smirk on his smeared lips as hand reached over to grasp comfortably around her throat to lift her head up to face the raven-haired man. Fragola let out a gasp and her cunt pulsed around Leone’s cock at the feeling, sweat dripping off her body. Bruno could only smile in response, slowly getting up from the chair to face the young woman. Fingers lacing in her brown hair and watching how her mouth hung open and let out her cute gasps and whimpers. He could tell that her attention wasn’t necessarily on him, rather his harden cock that hung straight out.

“Mm-hm, she’s so adorable like this.”

“I know what you’re thinking…Just use her mouth, I know you want to.”

A swipe of his thumb against Fragola’s lip was more than enough of an answer. That hand held her head still and another aligned the tip of his cock at her lips, Fragola understood what she needed to do and opened her mouth to let Bruno insert his cock inside. A groan left Bruno’s lips as Fragola’s tongue messily swirled around the length until she felt her lover gently start to pump himself inside of her mouth, reaching to the back of her throat and going slightly down.

“Fuck…So good.” Those sweet compliments only blurred her mind, absorbed by the feeling of getting used by her two lovers. Closing her eyes and feeling herself build up once more to cum, the blur of their opposing rhythms made it feel so so good. Waiting for the climax of the night, to be filled with cum and to reach out to both for comfort in her tired state. The real bliss of the evening.

#commission #snlangford #bruabba x oc #not sfw #one shot #smut #thank you for the support! #hopefully i got it how you want it djkdsl #bruno x oc #leone x oc

[sharknadoslutt]

Here's a smutty oneshot based off of sneezyartfitsvids tiktok fic series about Bruno! I love those two.

After Bruno Madrigal left them for ten years, he's managed to gain the trust of his spouse back and they reunite in the most sensual of ways~

If you like smut with feelings, then you may enjoy! they/them used with female anatomy in this smut.

#I'm on a roll this week #hollyspeaks #bruno madrigal smut #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal x reader #nsft

[biographydivider]

Chapter 14 of Pining & Paperbacks!

Some people drink when they’re stressed. Some people smoke.

And some people write stupid sexy snuggling scenes with a ratman.

Got some Family Feels on the backburner for y’all next, but I needed the self-indulgent stuff today lol

#encanto fanfic #bruno x oc #between work and writing and a new commission starting today and my family being shitheaps #I needed a bit of #let's say #escapism #smut

[jacks-obsessions]

Pencil and Paint

Chapter 1

This series is inspired by @jonathanstigbitties yandere art school au

CW: obsessive behavior, stalking, cum paint, manipulation, nsfw themes, and general yandere behavior 

Jackie sighed as she watched her professor talk about different drawing techniques, she probably would need to go to office hours again, as she was thinking this the professor caught her eye and Jackie quickly looked away, she was shy and making eye contact with someone as intimidating as professor Kars was not good for her heart. The class was almost over for the day and Jackie was ready for it; it had been a tough week and a nap sounded like heaven to her. Once the class was over, Kars called her over to his desk. 'Oh no oh no oh no oh no.' Was the mantra going through Jackie's mind as made her way to the professor's desk where he was eyeing her, this did not help, she approached and bounced on her heels out of nerves. "I called you over to ask how you are doing. You've seemed quite tense," Kars said as he watched Jackie's nervous visage. "O-oh, I, um, well, I guess I've been tense recently. I've just been burnt out lately." She said, looking at her feet in embarrassment. Kars noticed this and leaned forward. "No need to feel shame, it's simply natural, is there anything you need?" Jackie was shell-shocked, did Kars the meanest professor on campus just ask her if she needed anything from him?! "I-I don't think there is anything you can do," Jackie said softly, Kars nodded and leaned back. "Okay, but if you ever need anything just ask." He said earnestly, Jackie just nodded before shuffling out of the room, as she walked down the hall Jackie couldn't help but think about how Kars seemed to have taken a liking to her. He always went easy on her and he always lingered behind you when he was up walking around. "Jackie!" A voice called out. She looked over and there was Bruno. She smiled and waved at him. Bruno was teaching her painting techniques she didn't know. "Jackie, I'm glad I caught you. I was wondering if you'd like to get something to eat before we paint." He said, practically bouncing. "Okay." She didn't see a problem with it and it sounded fun. 

Jackie followed as Burno lead the way. The male seemed thrilled, and that made Jackie rather happy, too. "So, where are we going?" She asked as Bruno stopped. "Um, I haven't thought that far..." Jackie giggled and patted Bruno on the back, unaware of the shiver that goes down Bruno's spine. "Well, let's go to that new cafe." She said in a sing-song voice, once again affecting the male, but Jackie didn't know. When the two arrived at the cafe, they sat down in a quiet corner. Jackie smiled and asked how Bruno's day went. "Well, it was nice, kinda boring, but it got better." He said, getting a bit more animated at the end. "Oh? What made it better?" She asked, but Bruno just smiled and shook his head. "The day just seemed to get brighter is all." Jackie smiled, "That's good." Bruno loved her smile and couldn't help but smile himself, so when the barista came over to them, she was met with two people just smiling at each other. After they ordered, they went back to talking. "The weirdest thing happened today. Kars asked if I needed help." She said. "What? Really?" Bruno felt a bit annoyed by this. Why was he talking to her? "Well, I'm thinking he likes me," Jackie mumbled. "Oh, well, that's weird, don't you think?" There was slight aggression in his tone. "Yeah, it's weird, but I think it's nice he's trying to be sociable." She said absentmindedly as she glanced out the window, missing how Bruno frowned at that. The two got their drinks and continued to chat when they heard a familiar voice. "Jackie, I'm surprised to see you on a date," Kars said with surprise in his voice. "Oh, I'm not on a date, sir. We're just getting something to pep us up from my painting lesson." She explained, much to Bruno's chagrin. "Tch, no need to call me sir. We're off the clock." Kars scoffed as he eyed Bruno. "Oh, thank you, Kars." Unknown to her, hearing her say his name gave Kars a certain amount of pleasure, but this put a sour taste in Bruno's mouth.

Kars lingered for a bit before leaving to get his food and drink as Bruno and Jackie left. "I don't like him," Bruno grumbled as they walked. Jackie tilted her head and questioned why he didn't like Kars. "It's just that he seems like an arrogant asshole, is all." He said as he kicked a rock. "Yeah, he may seem like that, but he's pretty nice, or at least that's how he is with me." She said, shrugging. Bruno just scoffed and shook his head. Once they arrived at Bruno's shared home, they were greeted by the sound of arguing. "Sounds like Fugo and Narancia are at it again," Jackie said with a smile. Bruno shook his head once more and quietly apologized for their behavior, but she just laughed and said it was fine. Bruno opened the door, and they saw an angry Fugo trying to strangle Narancia, but as they walked in, the shouting and strangling stopped. "Hi, Jack!" Narancia rasped with glee. "Hi, Nara." She replied, not noticing how Bruno's jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. He did not like that little nickname, in fact, why didn't he have a nickname?! Was he not good enough? That had to be it, so he'd just try harder! "Jackie, we should probably get to it." He suggested, mainly to get away from the distraction. Bruno herded Jackie into his room where they began their session, as the session progressed Bruno would take every opportunity to touch Jackie, guiding her hands, pressing his body against hers, and discreetly smelling her hair. Bruno was thrilled he loved these moments with Jackie. They were chaotic and fun, and he got to see her let loose and forget the stress of the day. Jackie smiled as she inspected the oil painting she and Bruno had been working on. She always felt so accomplished when she painted with Bruno. “Hey Bubs, what do you think?” She asked as she stepped back to look at her work. “Bubs?” Bruno questioned. “Bubs! I’ve decided that’s your nickname.” This was it! The moment he was waiting for, he was finally worthy of a nickname!

“Do you not like it? Cause if you don’t, I can just keep calling you Bruno.” She said hurriedly when Bruno failed to respond to her, but unknown to her, Bruno was over the moon. “NO! What? No! I-I love it!” He said frantically. He couldn’t have her not give him a nickname, not when he’s been waiting all this time! “Okay, I’m glad.” Jackie smiled as she said this, a smile that melts his heart and makes his day. “Yeah, it’s nice you gave me one. It makes me happy,” Bruno said quietly as he tried to hide his blush. “Heh, no problem.” She said as he placed a hand on Bruno’s shoulder, causing Bruno to choke on his spit and then cough. “Are you okay!?” Jackie cried out as she placed a hand on his back, helping brace him with her body. It only made things worse. Any kind of touch from Jackie was rare, and now Bruno was having her touch him more than ever before. Wherever she touched, his skin burned. Now he had to focus on not popping a boner. Well, all the physical contact was too much for Bruno and he passed out, freaking Jackie out, so poor Jackie had to drag Bruno to his bed and heft him into it. When he woke up Jackie was by his side looking out the window. He was so happy, she stayed by his side! She had to love him back! “Jackie?” She jumped and looked down at him, relief flooding her features. “Oh, thank god you’re okay!” Right, he passed out… oops. “Heh, sorry for passing out on you,” Bruno said sheepishly. “No, it’s fine. As long as you feel better, I’m happy.” She said, smiling. That’s the Jackie he loves. Her motherly nature always calmed him down. It wasn’t something he always got to see, so it was always a pleasant surprise when her caring side came out to play. “Jackie?” He looked up at her, taking in all of her features. “Hm?” She was looking out of the window again. “I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me.” He said, looking away, hiding his blush.

“No problem. It’s what friends are for.” She said happily. “Yeah, friends…” Bruno didn’t want to be just ‘friends,’ he wanted to be soulmates, damn it! “Well, have to go. It’s getting late.” She said, getting up. “I can walk you home! You said it yourself that it’s getting late, so I want to make sure you get home safely.” Bruno said quickly. This was a prime opportunity for him to woo her. He didn’t need to learn where her home was because he already knew where she lived. No, this was to protect her from the scum of the earth. “Okay, that sounds good,” Jackie said, nodding, as Bruno’s heart did a flip. She trusted him! He got out of bed and offered Jackie his hand. She took it and he helped her up. As the two walked down, she said her goodbyes, and then they left. As they walked, Bruno thought of things they could talk about, but he also enjoyed the silence too, so they ended up walking in silence. Bruno walked slightly behind Jackie so as not to give away he knew where she lived, he couldn’t get her suspicious of him. This also allowed him to admire her beauty. Once they got to her front door, they said their goodbyes and parted ways, but after Jackie shut the door, Bruno hung around a bit, just for his peace of heart. He had to make sure nobody followed them. After he was satisfied, Bruno left and made his way home, at home he sat down and admired the painting that he and Jackie had been working on, he felt a surge of pleasure run throughout his body as he looked at what they had created. They created this, they, the knowledge that they made something together, made Bruno hard. It was like a husband and wife having a child! This painting was their child. It had his semen in it after all, and the knowledge that she had touched it with her bare hands, well, made him even harder. That’s it he needed to jerk off, as he lay in his bed he imagined Jackie above him, moving down towards his hard cock, he imagined her hands freeing his length instead of his, and that it was her hands that began to gently move up and down his shaft, he focused on the feeling of her bare hands on his skin. As he did his body heated up and his skin flushed red with arousal, he bit his lip to keep his moans contained. 

Bruno groaned thinking of how warm she would be wrapped around his shaft. Thoughts of how she would use him for her pleasure filled his mind. Maybe she would cockwarm him and give him the order to not move until she said so, or maybe she would sit on his face until he was begging for air. The more he thought of these things the closer he got to his end. He finally came with a strangled groan, his eyes rolled back, as he lay there he thought of having Jackie cuddle with him. He sighed and rolled over looking at the picture of them at the pool, her swimsuit hugged all the right places but she said she looked horrible, he thought she looked amazing in it. Though he would have preferred she didn’t wear it where everyone could see her, her beauty was for his eyes only. Yawning Bruno rolled over and fell asleep not bothering to clean himself up.

#yandere bruno x jackie x yandere kars #tw yandere #jjba smut #jjba oc

[five-miles-over]

Joaquin Phoenix Characters Masterlist

updated 08 November 2023

Multiple Character Headcanons and Listicles

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as University Students

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Cupcakes

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters - Sleepover Headcanons

• If Joaquin Phoenix Characters Went on Dates

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Comfort Foods

• Holiday Gift Ideas for Joaquin Phoenix Characters

• Commodus, Abbé, and Joe as Parents 

Abbé de Coulmier from Quills

• The World’s a Broken Bone: The Abbé comforts the reader - a nurse at Charenton - when they have a severe migraine.

• Let Me Save You: A crossover with Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

• The Ballad of Mona Lisa: The reader confesses to the Abbé about fantasies that they have been experiencing lately. (Smut)

• Abbé de Coulmier x Light Academia (aesthetic board)

Arthur Fleck from Joker

• Yandere Arthur Fleck Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck and Joker Jealousy Headcanons

• NSFW Headcanons

• Yandere!Arthur and Yandere!Joker Dealing With Rejection in Public

• Joker and Cruella de Ville Crossover Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck x 50s Retrocore

Bruno Weiss from The Immigrant

• Bruno Weiss x Roaring 20s (Aesthetic Board)

Clay Bidwell from Clay Pigeons

• Misery Loves Company: Clay meets the reader at a bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

• Hey Good Lookin’: Clay loves it when his girlfriend sits on his lap and asks him for a kiss (fluff)

Emperor Commodus from Gladiator

• Imagine Teaching Commodus to Slow Dance

• The Courtesan: The reader is a dancer that catches the eye of Emperor Commodus at a party

• ‘Till I Hear You Sing: A song-based fic based on “Til I Hear You Sing” from Love Never Dies

• What I Did For Love: Continuation from ‘Til I Hear You Sing’. A song-fic based on “What I Did for Love” from A Chorus Line

• New Girl: A high school AU of the movie Gladiator. The reader has recently moved to Rome and is now a new student at the Roman Educational Institute

• Paparazzi (Hollywood!Commodus x Reader): Another Gladiator AU in which the reader has a chance encounter in Rome with Commodus, a world-famous actor hounded by paparazzi.

• All Love Can Be: Prince Commodus meets the reader through their fathers working together, and eventually decides to ask for her hand.

• Handsome: The reader gets a little drunk while spending time with Commodus, and turns a bit childish and dorky.

• The Festivals of Saturn: Commodus’s first Saturnalia as a young sixteen-year-old co-emperor.

• Lay All Your Love on Me: Commodus falls unconditionally and irrevocably in love with a confident young woman along the seashores of Lanuvium

• Lose Me In the Sight of You: All you wished for was the blessing of Lady Juno that you would find a good husband, yet little did you know that a certain Emperor has grown passionately and hopelessly obsessed with you. (TW: Yandere)

• Emperor Commodus x Vampire Aesthetic

• Commodus’s Outfits as Chocolates

• Similarities Between Chuck Bass from “Gossip Girl” and Commodus from “Gladiator”

SERIES: ALONE WITH YOU INSIDE MY MIND (COMMODUS X READER) - ON HIATUS

The young prince (and soon to be Emperor of Rome) Commodus falls in love with you, the daughter of a nobleman, and nothing will stand in the way of his obsession.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

SERIES: AFTERMATH (COMMODUS X OC) - ON HIATUS

A sequel to the events of the film Gladiator, in which Emperor Commodus survives the duel with Maximus

• Chapter 1: The Impossible Dream

• Chapter 2: Proud of Your Boy

• Chapter 3: The Point of No Return

• Chapter 4: Look Down

• Chapter 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky

• Chapter 6: These Palace Walls

• Chapter 7: Wait For It

• Chapter 8: Something There

• Chapter 9: Be Prepared

• Chapter 10: Twisted Every Way

• Chapter 11: All I Ask of You 

• Chapter 12: History Has Its Eyes on You

Max California from 8 MM

• Max California x Dark Academia

• Max California Proposing to You (Headcanons)

Ray Elwood from Buffalo Soldiers

• Ray Elwood Taking You Out on a Date Would Include...

Willie Gutierrez from The Yards

• Blackout: The reader is Willie Gutierrez’s new neighbor, and the two of them accidentally meet during a power outage

• The Light Blinking at the End of the Tunnel: The reader offers some much-needed comfort to Willie after finding out about his dark past.

#joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix characters #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #commodus x reader #emperor commodus #abbe de coulmier #abbe de coulmier x reader #ray elwood #buffalo soldiers #joaquin phoenix fanfiction #joaquin phoenix fic #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagines #clay pigeons movie #clay bidwell #arthur fleck imagines #yandere arthur fleck

[magicshopaholic]

Los Angeles pt. 2

Summary: Taehyung finds himself in the midst of a crisis, while Namjoon has a fight with his girlfriend an hour before the Grammys.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC, Namjoon x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 13.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, making out, sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, jealousy

A/N: Hellooooo, wrote about some controversial but fan favourite couples after a while :D Set three months after New Year’s Eve Eve. Refers to events from Los Angeles, Weekend Story and Melbourne, but can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: “gimme all your love” by alabama shakes

taehyung masterlist | namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

The morning is new, with the sun’s rays slanting in through the large windows. They’re blocked by the white sheets, giving the bed a warm, faint glow and making honey skin look golden. It’s fingers on hips, lips soft against muscle, intimate smiles between kisses and the quiet murmurs of nothing in particular for no one else to hear.

“It could be Kanye.” Dilara murmurs, her lips brushing against his ear. Her arms come around his neck and she sighs as his mouth moves gently along her jaw.

Taehyung groans quietly, kissing the skin along her neck and down to her shoulder. “Don’t even say that,” he complains softly, running a hand down the side of her body. “Are you wearing a new lotion?”

“Picked it up from the airport. What about -” She breaks off momentarily when he raises his head to face her, taken off guard by his eyes immediately locking on hers. “- um… Bruno. Mars. After that thing that went viral.”

He snickers softly and kisses her. “Unlikely,” he disagrees quietly against her lips. “It’ll probably be Kendrick,” he adds, pulling her closer, their naked bodies flush against each other.

“I can get behind that.” Dilara runs a hand through his thick hair and hooks a leg around his waist, flipping them over. Straddling him, she takes in his expression of surprise and arousal in equal measure. “I still think it’ll be Kanye, though. Record of the Year is always someone controversial,” she points out, flipping her long hair over one shoulder and straightening up.

Taehyung shakes his head slowly. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

He says it in Korean, but this Dilara can understand. She doesn’t bother suppressing her smile. “So you agree with me?”

He grins. “Sure. Unless you’re wrong.” He’s gone blond once again, for their comeback and upcoming tour. It’s a sunny golden, thick and brushing the tops of his ears and reaching the nape of his neck. He looks unbelievably handsome, like a work of art sculpted just for her.

She narrows her eyes playfully and adjusts herself on top of him, his erection brushing against her arse cheeks and making her toes curl automatically. “What do I get if I’m right?”

He holds her hips. “What do you want?”

“Write me a song.”

“I’ll write you a hundred,” he promises, just as she slides onto him, their sighs of pleasure occurring in unison. She moves slowly, rolling her hips into his and feeling his length inside her as he helps her along. It’s slow, soft and loving, the morning sun streaming in through the gaps in the curtains as she rides him, his fingers steady on her flesh and his gaze holding hers until the end.

“What time do we need to leave?” Dilara asks a little while later, flushed and on her back as she checks her phone. Her heart is still racing slightly, at a comfortable, post-coital pace.

“Hm, around four?” Taehyung answers, putting down his own phone and scooching over to her. He slides his arm around her waist and rests his chin comfortably on her shoulder. “But me and Jimin have to film something before that so you’ll have to come with the others. Unless you want to come with us?” he offers, squeezing her waist affectionately.

But Dilara shakes her head. “That’s okay. I don’t think I’ll be ready before that. I have to go pick up my dress and then Kaya and I have plans to go to lunch, get our hair done…” She places her phone back on the nightstand and turns to face him. 

“Wow. So you two are friends, then? If you’re getting your hair done together,” he points out seriously. He fingers a curl falling down her neck. “Your hair looks amazing like this - why do you even need to get it done?”

She chuckles. “Yeah? Should I just turn up to the Grammys afterparty with sex hair and messy curls?”

“Sounds perfect.”

She rolls her eyes and tucks her hair back self-consciously. “Not going to happen. We don’t have award-winning stylists to do our hair and make-up,” she reminds him, poking his shoulder. “And I like Kaya. She’s fun.”

“M-hm.” He kisses her but pulls away abruptly. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching the show from backstage, though?” 

“Absolutely,” she replies, shaking her head immediately. “I have no desire to sneak around the cameras and hope we don’t get spotted together. Kaya and I will chill backstage,” she tells him, wrapping her hands around his neck and sinking into his embrace, “cheer for you during your performance -” She kisses him slowly, slipping her tongue into his mouth, “- and meet you at the afterparty.”

Taehyung kisses her back and rolls on top of her, his blond hair brushing her cheeks. “I love you,” he murmurs before pulling away and frowning slightly. “Did you say you have to pick up your dress?”

“Yeah, it’s a Jenny Packham dress from her fall collection and it’s gorgeous. I have it on hold at a store here - shit, I should actually leave soon.” With an enormous effort, Dilara kisses him quickly and gently nudges him off, smirking at his dramatic groan. Swinging her legs off the bed, she begins searching for clothes.

“Can I see the dress?” he asks, still lying down as she pulls on his striped white button-down shirt from last night.

“Yeah, at the show.”

His jaw drops. “Seriously? It’s a secret?”

She gives him a look, now pulling on a pair of cotton shorts from her suitcase. “It wasn’t, but it can be. It’s a really nice dress and I want your reaction to the whole thing, with hair and shoes and all. It doesn’t work if I show you a picture of it beforehand,” she reasons.

“Huh.” Taehyung sits up on his knees and reaches for his joggers at the end of the bed. “Interesting. Sort of like a wedding dress.”

Dilara throws a t-shirt at him. “It’s not a wedding dress,” she states, her stomach fluttering without warning despite this being one of his favourite bits.

“Are you sure? Because I can roll with that,” he says seriously, pulling on the t-shirt and running his hands through his messy hair. “My outfit for today hasn’t been decided yet and I know there’s a white jacket that’s available -”

“Tae, I swear to God, don’t even joke about -”

“- but we should coordinate everything else, though, like a garter or -”

Dilara walks backwards with warm cheeks as Taehyung steps towards her, his forehead creased like he’s concentrating hard. “I’m going to kill you, I really am -” She turns around and opens the door of his room, hurrying outside and ignoring him as he continues. 

“- and if you’re wearing like a - how do you say it in English? That white cloth that comes over your face -”

“I’m not even listening, I’m just - oh, God!” She shrieks, partly in surprise and partly because of her heart skipping her beat when he grabs her around the waist and her feet leave the floor. 

“That really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Taehyung asks teasingly after he puts her down in the open kitchen of the shared suite. The doors to the other two rooms are still closed, leaving them alone in the expanse of the combined living room and kitchen area.

“No,” she disagrees automatically, popping two slices of bread into the toaster as she feels him come up behind her. “It’s just annoying. Like you,” she adds, poking him in the stomach.

He pokes her back. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re more annoying.”

“You’re -“

They jump slightly when the toaster dings and the bread pops up, dry and toasted. 

“Ooh, there’s jam,” he says, digressing and reaching behind her to pull a tray with small, pretty jars lined up on it. “Strawberry, obviously,” he decides, picking up a pink jar.

“Oh, no, try the blueberry…”

“Apricot? That doesn’t sound good at all…”

“I see your apricot and I raise you -“ She picks up a jar at the end and holds it up, wrinkling her nose. “- dates.”

Taehyung snickers, unscrewing the lid of the blueberry jam and lathering a generous amount on his toast with a butter knife. 

“Oh, I can’t have sugar,” she tells him when he offers her some, and bites into the plain toast. “What? I’m two weeks away from the first race. I can’t risk a single unwanted calorie.”

Taehyung frowns, dipping his finger into the jam. “Not even a taste?” he asks, waving a dollop of the sweet-smelling jelly in front of her.

She groans and leans back against the island. “Don’t tempt me,” she warns him, knocking his hand away.

“Just one.”

“No way. I’m already making an exception for later today where I intend to have one or many mimosas at lunch,” she points out.

“Fine.” He makes a big show of sucking it off his finger and smacking his lips while she narrows her eyes at him. “You said you didn’t want any,” he reminds her, stepping towards her and taking a large bite of his toast, leaving a smear of jam on the tip of his nose.

Pursing her lips in amusement, Dilara reaches up on the tips of her toes and licks it off. “Just made an exception.”

Taehyung’s face breaks out into a grin, but he visibly reins it in. Placing his hands on either side of her, he presses a sweet kiss to her cheek. “You know what you just did,” he says, taking another bite of his toast, “was a very married couple kind of thing to -“

“I hate you.”

“You really don’t.”

“Yes, I do…”

They’re kissing in between giggles and bites of toast when the front door opens. 

“Oh!” Jungkook immediately screws his eyes shut and halts in place, looking like he’s walked into an invisible wall. Jimin strolls in along with him, simply raising his eyebrows at them as they separate reluctantly.

“Told you they’ll have food,” says Jimin in Korean, dropping his gym bag on the floor. He comes over to examine the plate of jams and looks up in mild horror. “That’s it? Bread and jam?”

“Haven’t you lived on worse?” Dilara tosses him the wireless landline. “It’s technically your hotel suite. Feel free to order room service. JK, what about you? JK?” She turns to see him still standing in the same place with his eyes closed, his neck and ears red.

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

Taehyung frowns curiously at him as he chews his toast while Jimin reaches over and taps his hip with the phone. “I’m getting shakshuka,” he informs him. “They have eggs benedict, too.”

Jungkook finally peels his eyes open slowly and clears his throat, placing his gym bag next to Jimin’s and coming up next to him. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He looks up gingerly at Dilara and Taehyung across the island and his shoulders visibly relax, as though relieved to confirm that they’re no longer snogging. “What about you guys?”

“Just toast for me. But,” she adds, “may I tempt you to try the best jam offered by the Hilton?” She reaches across the island to where the tray of jams is next to Jimin’s elbow. “Hint: it contains dates.”

As she struggles to reach the tray while Jimin remains unbothered, the wide collar of Taehyung’s shirt falls open slightly. It takes her a moment to remember she isn’t wearing a bra and another to sense eyes on her. Before she can confirm, however, Taehyung’s arm appears in front of her.

“Or you can try the apricot,” he suggests, placing the bottle on the island. Dilara looks up to see his gaze on Jungkook, both knowing and just the slightest bit amused.

Jungkook’s face reddens again. “Apricot sounds good,” he mumbles, taking the bottle and sliding off the bar stool he was sitting on.

Taehyung snickers under his breath as he leaves while Dilara smacks his arm playfully, suppressing her own smile when the door opens for the second time. 

“Told you they’d have food,” says Namjoon with Kaya entering beside him. She’s already dressed in jeans and an off-shoulder top, looking fresh and glowing as she runs a hand through her long hair, the other interlaced loosely with her boyfriend’s fingers.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks Dilara, dropping his hand and taking Jungkook’s vacated seat. Meanwhile, Namjoon examines the lone packet of bread in disappointment.

“Yeah, just need to shower.”

Namjoon’s head snaps up. “You should hurry. We need to leave at four on the dot, so you guys should be back before then.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be ten minutes.” Dilara swallows the last of her toast and skips into Taehyung’s room, shutting the door behind her.

When she returns, showered and doused in sunscreen for a sunny day in Los Angeles, Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon are sharing one plate of shakshuka, looking extremely tragic as they do. Kaya observes them with a frown, looking somewhat sympathetic but also mildly concerned.

“We’re performing today,” says Jimin defensively, giving Namjoon a sideways glare, before Dilara even opens her mouth.

“Hey, no judgement,” she replies. “We’re just going to leave you guys to… this.”

“Yeah,” agrees Kaya slowly, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder and kissing him on the cheek. “Enjoy your… plate.”

“There’s no need to rub it in,” sniffs Taehyung. Namjoon gives her a forlorn look but doesn’t respond, while Jungkook nods sadly.

“We’ll bring you back a muffin or something,” suggests Dilara. “For after the performance.”

All of them mumble incoherently, scraping their forks on the ceramic plate as Kaya and Dilara leave them.

“Remember we need to leave at four!” Namjoon calls out at the last moment.

“Yes, love you!” Kaya replies and shuts the door behind her and raises her eyebrows. “Never a good idea to be around them when they’re hungry,” she mutters as they head down the carpeted hallway.

Dilara snickers, pressing the elevator button. “I didn’t want to say it in front of them, but I’m so glad we got a reservation at this place for lunch. They have the best sushi - and mimosas.”

“Thank God,” says Kaya as they head down. “I was afraid I was going to have to share that shakshuka with them.”

While Dilara could only take a handful of days away from training to visit Los Angeles, she’d jumped at the chance to do it anyway. She missed Taehyung, she missed the sun and although it was pleasantly unexpected, she was looking forward to hanging out with Kaya again.

It wasn’t a huge surprise to her - and even less to Namjoon, who had casually deduced that it was due to the extreme lack of female presence in her life that she had taken to Kaya so quickly. 

She’d been FaceTiming Taehyung and had asked if Kaya would be coming as well, when Namjoon had popped up in the background to confirm that she would and to additionally provide this insight. Dilara had been about to disagree out of habit when it occurred to her that outside of Lexie, she didn’t actually have a single female friend.

While Lexie is her closest friend, there is something entirely different about Kaya, something so mature and put together that it stirs something admiring in Dilara, almost intimidatingly so. It also helps that she looks like the consummate girl next door from a movie, all long hair and sweet perfume and gorgeous smiles and unknowing double takes from men they pass on the street.

“He’s cute.” Dilara gestures as subtly as she can to a guy walking a German Shepherd across the street.

Kaya turns to see him smile back at her and continues walking, shrugging awkwardly. “I guess. Not really my type, though.”

“Yeah? What’s your type?”

“Tall. Broad. Pretty basic.” She chuckles and gives Dilara a knowing look, sipping at the straw of the iced coffee in her hand. 

Dilara returns her smile and adjusts the shopping bags on her arm, glancing at the Jenny Packham box inside the biggest one. Mildly considering that she may have overhyped the dress to Taehyung, she winces and pushes the box down and looks up to see a flash.

Her heart skips an enormous beat for a moment. “Shit,” she mutters, side-eyeing the woman who’s just clicked a picture of her from inside the coffee shop they just passed. “I think I’m paranoid. Ever since Taehyung and I got back together, I just assume that someone’s taking my picture because they know.” She hears a couple of more clicks and winces. “Sorry… but your picture might end up on an obscure sports Instagram account somewhere”

Kaya clicks her tongue sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it. And, yeah, I used to feel that, too, in the beginning. No one was taking pictures of me,” she clarifies, “but if someone even looked at me funny, my mind went straight to the worst possible scenario. Does your PR team know, though?” she asks after a moment. “In case it ever does come out?”

“Oh.” This isn’t something that’s occurred to Dilara. “Do you think I need to? Actually, yeah,” she muses, frowning at the hypothetical possibilities. “Maybe I should tell Red Bull. They do have a brand to think of.”

“Yeah, and if it’s anything illegal, then they’ll have the power to shut it down,” she points out. “You should talk to Taehyung about it, too. There’s probably protocol at his end as well.”

Dilara bites her lip, a little overwhelmed and marvelling briefly at the depth of knowledge Kaya seems to have about this. “Yeah, probably. Does Namjoon have, like, legal plans in place, too?”

“M-hm.” She nods, taking another sip of her coffee. Her dark eyes are wide and earnest, as though she’s talking about dinner plans with him. “I mean, I’m not famous so I’m guessing it’s more along the lines of social media and tabloids and stuff as compared to, like -” She shrugs “- if I’m being stalked or something.”

“Wow.” Dilara raises her eyebrows. “Sorry, you just seem really calm about… the possibility of being stalked.”

Kaya waves a nonchalant hand. “It’s just him being overly-cautious. Namjoon is very protective.” She says it with a shake of the head, but Dilara can still detect a hint of pride at the statement.

They head to lunch after that and decide to take a table inside to protect their freshly-styled hair. The owner ends up being a Formula 1 fan, possibly one of the few that exists in America, and almost trips over himself when he comes over.

“I may have a restaurant in Los Angeles but I could never forget someone who represents my country,” he says emotionally before declaring them free drinks for the rest of the afternoon.

“Is this normal?” Kaya asks in a hushed voice after he leaves. She’s on her third drink and her skin is glowing more than ever. Her eyes are bright and her speech is slightly faster than it was before, but Dilara finds it ridiculously endearing.

“The free stuff? Kind of, not a lot.” Dilara shrugs, starting a fresh drink. “It mostly happens abroad. Nobody in England gives a fuck. I’m sure this happens to the guys in Korea, though,” she adds curiously.

But Kaya shakes her head. “Oh, no. Well, not in my experience at least. Namjoon usually calls the restaurant ahead and they make sure we get a table with privacy and everything, but it doesn’t involve free stuff unless they’re promoting it. I prefer it that way, though,” she says after a moment. “It makes our dates feel normal.” She shrugs in a shy, private way.

Dilara tries to picture Namjoon as she knows him - the leader, serious and focused for all their schedules during the Red Bull and BTS partnership last year - with the version Kaya seems to be referring to, the one that takes his girlfriend on dates and holds her hand out of habit. 

“Does the long distance thing get easier, though?” she asks after a moment, biting her lip. “Because the first time Tae and I tried, it… it sort of went up in flames,” she confesses, realising somewhere in the back of her mind that the alcohol is starting to get to her as well, if she’s uttering these thoughts out loud.

Surprisingly, Kaya nods. “It definitely does,” she answers. “You get used to it, actually. The work takes over, the in-person times get better.” She chuckles and finishes the last of her drink. “The fights get weirder.”

“Our fights are pretty weird already,” she mutters.

“They’ll get more so. Last week, Namjoon and I had this huge fight because I forgot to lock my front door again.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean - yeah, he wasn’t totally wrong and it was maybe careless of me but I live in a safe building, you know? I know all my neighbours.”

Dilara nods, sensing they might be nearing the venting stage of their day-drinking session. But just then, Kaya glances at her phone.

“We should probably head back, though. I’m going to need to sober up before we leave,” she admits, wincing theatrically.

They ask for the cheque and leave soon after, and it becomes apparent to Dilara as they reach the hotel that Kaya was not exaggerating her need to sober up. She can’t help but enjoy it, though; it’s been a long time since she’s enjoyed a normal day out with a girlfriend with whom she’s felt such an immediate kinship. Kaya is an adorable drunk, she discovers, one that seems to shed a layer of her maturity and grown-up aura after a few drinks.

“It’s… wow, we have forty-five minutes to go,” remarks Dilara as they enter the lobby.

“And that’s why I suggested doing the hair stuff in the beginning. I had a feeling I might go overboard with the drinks,” points out Kaya, rummaging in her bag. “Where is my phone, my phone… oh, it’s in my pocket…”

She’s slurring less than she was before, though, which Dilara takes as a good sign. The elevator door opens and they’re met with Namjoon standing inside, fully dressed in a designer suit and his dark blond hair styled, his head low over his phone. The moment he looks up, however, his deep frown fades and a relieved smile spreads across his face.

“Thank God, I thought you guys were -”

“Hey, babe!” Kaya hops in, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him on the mouth. He takes a moment but his hands come up to rest on her waist when she pulls away and takes in his figure. “Shit, you look hot.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Um, I - thanks. You look…” He frowns at her as she moves to stand next to him. “Are you drunk?”

She groans and places her head on his shoulder, holding his arm, while Dilara suppresses a smile at how concerned he looks. “Just a little.” She straightens up and carefully brushes her hair off her face. “I just need a black coffee and I’ll be fine.”

Namjoon’s tongue pokes through his chin but he doesn’t say anything, simply holding her waist to steady her. Suddenly feeling awkward, Dilara clears her throat.

“Tae - has he left already?”

“About half an hour ago.”

She nods, taking another peek at her dress inside the bag. She may have overhyped it, but Taehyung loves hype, as she’s discovered. The elevator reaches the top floor and opens soundlessly and all three of them step out, Dilara going in the opposite direction as the other two.

“I’ll see you guys downstairs!” She looks back to see Namjoon nod once in response as he and Kaya walk back to the other shared room, tall and beautiful, holding hands. 

They reach the room and Kaya lets go of his hand, suddenly exhausted. She reaches the bed and falls backwards on it, welcoming the cool air conditioning and groaning again.

“How awesome would a nap be right now?” she mumbles, before rubbing her face and sitting up. “Could you order me a coffee? I’ll start getting ready.” She slides off the bed and heads into the bathroom, frowning when he doesn’t respond. “Joon?”

She steps outside and sees him in front of the full length mirror, strapping on a watch and notably silent. His jaw is hardened and Kaya’s heart skips an uncomfortable beat.

“What’s wrong?”

Namjoon doesn’t look up at her. “It’s…” He checks the watch. “... three twenty-five and you’re asking me this question?”

She frowns, wondering if she’s missing something. “You said we had to leave at four. That means I still have -”

“Yeah, I can do the math.” He cuts her off. “But you’re also drunk. Was that really necessary? Today?”

“I’m not drunk,” she clarifies. “I’m… a little buzzed, that’s all. And that’s why I asked for that coffee -”

“I don’t have time to order you a coffee, Kaya!”

“Fine! I’ll just have the one in the room -”

“That’s not the point!” Namjoon shakes his head as his phone pings and he picks it up. He sighs as he reads it before looking up at her. “This is an important night for me - and a stressful one. I don’t need to be worried about getting you sober or -”

“You don’t have to!” she exclaims. “I’ll make my own coffee and I’ll -”

“You’re going to drink a coffee, get dressed and everything in half an hour?”

“Yes, I will! Namjoon, I’m not going to ruin your night just because I had a couple of drinks at -”

But she’s cut off by his phone ringing, which he answers and speaks into in Korean, pinching the bridge of his nose and nodding. Kaya shakes her head but falls silent, her buzz having rapidly disappeared but her heart now feeling uncomfortably heavy. 

Namjoon nods and hangs up, taking a moment before looking up at her. “You know what? I can’t fight with you right now - we’re getting late. Will you meet me downstairs?” He waits for her to nod silently before striding over to the door. 

Kaya turns to go back to the bathroom, spotting her dress in its cover hanging on the clothes rack in the open closet. She stops in her tracks when she hears him speak again.

“I really needed you to have my back today, Kaya.” Before she can respond, the door closes shut.

—

The green room backstage at the Grammys is more spacious than Dilara would’ve predicted. She realises she may have been picturing her own changing rooms in the paddocks, but the backstage area allotted to BTS is huge; there are make-up chairs and vanity mirrors, comfortable couches, a table on the side with water and healthy snacks, and a row of private changing rooms at the end.

Dilara is engaged in a makeshift game of tossing corn nuts in the air for Jungkook to catch in his mouth, making each attempt a little more complicated than the last. Jimin shows up midway but gets annoyed when he doesn’t catch a single one, opting instead to sabotage Jungkook.

“Higher, higher - he has a weak left side!” Jimin shrieks as Dilara chucks another one in the air, both of them guffawing when Jungkook trips and falls to the floor in his attempt to catch it.

“I still got it!” Jungkook points out, chewing on the corn nut and getting to his feet. A stylist appears from seemingly nowhere and begins dusting off his trousers, giving Dilara a dirty look as she leaves.

Deciding to make the rest of the game simpler, she tosses another nut in the air, but it’s caught in the air halfway to Jungkook. Jimin cackles melodiously at Jungkook’s momentarily stumped face when the corn nut doesn’t reach him, but no one else pays attention.

“Can I borrow my girlfriend for a minute?” Taehyung asks, face smooth and impassive, looking right at Dilara.

Unable to suppress her smile this time, she nods, having expected this. She tosses the bag of corn nuts on the nearest dressing table and lets Taehyung lead her to the back of the green room, away from everyone’s view, until they’re alone and she turns and leans backwards against the wall, pulling him to her by the hand.

“This is the wedding dress?” He fingers the thin floor-length chiffon material before running his hand up slowly up her hip and stopping at her waist. “The one I couldn’t see?”

She slaps his shoulder, albeit with less force than this morning, her heart quickening at their proximity and his height towering over her. “This is the one,” she confirms, tugging him closer by the arms so he’s pressed up against her. “Tell me it wasn’t just a little better waiting to see it in person instead of a picture.”

“It was worth the wait,” he murmurs in agreement, kissing her and pulling her close. Dilara responds with enthusiasm, satisfied with his reaction. Long, backless and floral, she made sure to come into his sight only a few minutes ago when he’d been outside, talking to the producer and a couple more people. She’d stayed by the doorway, waiting for him to notice her before giving him a brief, slow twirl and backing into the green room until he excused himself to come to her. She knows it’s a nice dress, but she knows the build-up to it was even better.

They separate before they get carried away and Dilara leans back again, happy and tingly all over. “You look sexy,” she comments, stroking the lapels of his jacket before pointing to the row of doors next to her. “Do you know if these changing rooms are empty?”

He grins. “They better be after we’re done with the performance. How was your day?” he asks, shaking out his styled blond hair and adjusting the bangs so they fall effortlessly over his forehead. 

“Good. Haven’t had a girls’ day in a while. When do you go on stage?” 

Taehyung exhales. “About fifteen minutes.” He looks like he’s about to say something before shaking his head. “How was, uh… wait, so you had a nice girls’ day. That’s good. Kaya is always alone at these things but now she has you.” He punctuates his sentence with an affectionate pinch to her cheek. “Did you get here okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. I think she and Namjoon are fighting, though,” she says, wincing slightly. “They didn’t say a word to each other in the car and now you guys are going on stage soon…” She frowns when Taehyung hums distractedly, his eyes on the floor. “Hey. Are you okay?”

He bites his lip and looks up, and Dilara is surprised to see him looking anxious. “Just… just nervous. A little.” He exhales deeply again.

“Wait, really? You still get nervous? I mean -” She realises this might not be the right thing to say. “Well… don’t be. You’ll be amazing. You guys always are.”

Taehyung nods, looking slightly better. “I know. It’s just… Grammys.” He runs a hand over his mouth and smooths his hair back again.

“Um…” Dilara wonders if this might be the right way to go about it. “Do you need help calming down? Maybe I can be of some assistance.” Hesitantly, she lowers a hand below his belt and gently runs her fingers over his crotch. “Might get your mind off it?”

It takes him a moment to realise what she’s offering and a smile flashes across his face. “I… I love you. But I think I might lose all focus if you get anywhere near that right now,” he confesses.

Dilara nods and moves her hand away, squeezing his shoulders comfortingly. “After the show, then.”

“After the show. Come here,” he murmurs, pulling her to him and kissing her again. It’s faster this time, a little more heated with his anxiety out in the open. She gasps into his mouth when his hand tightens on her hips and he pulls away, a little breathless. “Maybe we can still -”

But just then, there’s a shout in Korean and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Sorry,” he mutters, opening them slowly. “I have to -”

“Go. And don’t worry,” she tells him, kissing him quickly. “You’re going to crush it. I love you.”

He nods gratefully and they head back to the common area where the members are all gathering in a circle with Namjoon in the middle. Dilara squeezes Taehyung’s hand before they separate, and she joins Kaya by one of the couches where she’s sitting by herself, her eyes on her boyfriend before they flicker away.

“How are you doing?” Dilara asks her.

“Totally sober,” she replies shortly. 

Dilara is reasonably convinced that they’re definitely in a disagreement of some sort. They’ve been simply keeping their distance ever since they left the hotel, barely saying a word to each other but drawing no additional attention to themselves. It’s a departure from how happy she’d looked when she’d seen him in the elevator this afternoon - and how his eyes had lit up when he’d seen her.

Now, despite Kaya looking absolutely sensational in a simple red satin slip dress with nothing but straps at the back, Namjoon has been maintaining his distance, although Dilara has caught him glancing over at her every few minutes when she isn’t looking.

She turns her attention back to Taehyung, though, waving at him when he turns to glance back at her as they leave to go on stage.

“Good luck, guys!” she calls, and a few of them return it with a chorus of thank you Dilaras. She notices Namjoon and Kaya hold each other’s gaze for a couple of seconds, where she mouths a tentative good luck and he nods back after a moment.

—

Taehyung sees nothing but lights, his members and dozens of faces in the audience that blur into each other. It’s a new song they’re performing, one they’re nominated for, and they give it everything they have. After weeks of practice, it’s expected.

It ends with thunderous applause from the audience. There’s cheering and whistles and although his heart is racing from the choreography, the response only makes the blood flow even faster. Next to him, the members are holding their ending poses until the lights dim and black out and all of them relax, grinning silently at each other at a successful performance.

Out of instinct, he looks to his left at the wings of the stage to see a few assistants and stylists, but between them, looking unbelievably angelic in her long, flowing dress - Dilara. She’s clapping and smiling right back at him, proud, affectionate and - he knows he’s not imagining it - aroused. She bites her lip at him and he grins and smirks back at her, when her gaze shifts slightly and the eye-fucking disappears, to be replaced by a dramatic narrowing of the eyes and her middle finger flashing momentarily.

Taehyung glances to his left to see Jungkook grinning and winking in her direction. His heart stutters unexpectedly for a moment and he almost misses when the producer signals for them to get off stage.

“What was that?” he mutters to Jungkook, after tapping his mic to check that it’s switched off.

“What?” Jungkook turns to him, panting and similarly out of breath. “Oh. Nothing. We had a bet.”

He provides no further explanation as they get off stage and everyone in the wings scrambles to make room for them. Taehyung notices Dilara gliding back to the green room with Kaya and follows them with a mild uneasiness he can’t quite place. But once everyone reaches and the mics are taken off, he searches for her to see her with eyes for no one but him, smiling radiantly and holding out a hand for him to take.

“Are you still too nervous?” she murmurs against his lips as they stumble into a private changing room. It’s dim but empty, smelling vaguely of cologne and powder.

“Not for this.” Taehyung grabs her hips and walks her backwards until she feels a dressing table behind her. The adrenaline is still flowing in his veins with fervour and the feel of her fingers unbuttoning his shirt and running through his hair makes him instantly hard.

“You were so sexy on stage,” she sighs, her mouth hot against his skin, from his collarbone to his sternum. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. All I kept thinking about was -” She nips at his stomach right above his belt, making him gasp, “- that you’re mine -” She unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his trousers, lightly biting his erection, “- and that you’re going to come off stage -” She lowers his boxers with her teeth “- and fuck me until everyone at that afterparty knows what you’ve done to me.”

Taehyung’s mind feels like it’s on autopilot when her lips wrap around his cock. He groans quietly, closing his eyes and dipping his head back as she takes him in. His hand goes to cradle her head in place, burying his fingers in her loose curls and gently clutching them. He looks down to see her dress spread out around her like fallen flowers and he knows he can’t wait any longer.

“Come up,” he whispers, tugging her up by her shoulders. “We don’t have a lot of time until they call me back.” He pulls her close by the waist and kisses her again before nudging her to turn around.

Dilara does so immediately, sweeping her long hair over one shoulder and shivering when he strokes her bare spine with a finger. “That means you’re not going to make me wait?” she asks hopefully, sighing when he presses rapid, wet kisses to her shoulder blade and pulls her flush against him, his chest warm against her back.

“Lucky you,” he murmurs, squeezing her breast and feeling her nipples hard and erect through the thin material. “God, I love you, Lara…” He nips at her ear before pulling one strap of her dress down her shoulder. He thinks of her expression from the wings again; direct, flushed, turned on as she returned his gaze…

“What was the bet?” he mutters against her earlobe, his hands tightening on her hips and bunching the fabric of her dress in his hand.

Dilara sighs distractedly. “What?”

“The bet,” he repeats calmly, biting her skin softly between his teeth and his tongue. “With Jungkook.”

“I don’t…” She reaches backwards to hold his head in place, tilting her neck. “Oh… nothing. I bet him he couldn’t sneak a… a moonwalk into the performance somewhere,” she murmurs. “Fuck, that feels good…”

Taehyung frowns, his mouth on her neck. “Did he?” He pushes her erection against her arse, hearing her gasp. “Did he do the moonwalk?”

But Dilara seems to have lost track of their conversation entirely. She reaches behind her and feels for his erection, wrapping her fingers around it. “God, Tae, you said you wouldn’t make me wait,” she whines. “I want you…”

“I did say that,” he mutters in agreement, lifting up her dress and reaching under it for her underwear. She sighs in relief and helps him hastily with the fabric when a loud knock interrupts them.

“Fuck!” Dilara exclaims in shock, freezing and looking towards the door. “No, no, no…”

Taehyung drops his head on her shoulder in frustration, his erection throbbing in anticipation of what was about to happen. The voice outside, belonging to one of the producers, is dry and uncaring as it knocks on all the doors one by one to tell the members to assemble for a recording.

“Damn it.” Dilara’s shoulders deflate and she sighs, straightening up and fixing her dress. Taehyung pulls his trousers back up, wincing as he tucks his erection back in and hoping it’ll disappear soon.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, turning her around to face him. She shrugs as she helps him button up his shirt, but he can tell she’s disappointed, mostly because he is, too. Finally, when they’re both presentable again, she looks up at him.

“You were really fantastic on stage today,” she says, straightening his blond bangs and giving him a small smile. “I prefer watching from the audience, though.”

He smiles back, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Really? It’s easier to sneak into a dressing room when you’re backstage, though.”

“Good point,” she agrees, reaching up to kiss him. They share a sweet, loving kiss and Taehyung squeezes her affectionately, suddenly so grateful that she was able to make it here this weekend. 

There’s a shout this time and the voice is unmistakable as Hoseok’s, calling Taehyung’s name in a very knowing tone.

Dilara pulls away and exhales sharply. “Tonight,” she says, and he nods. “Properly. Without interruptions. I didn’t spend a bunch of money on this dress so I could take it off myself,” she informs him and opens the door.

“Is that permission to rip it off?” he clarifies as they walk out. “Just in case I get carried away?”

“I will kill you if you rip it, Tae…”

The group films a quick clip against the backdrop of the green room, taking a few attempts until everyone makes it through the script without error. Jungkook is in the middle, twiddling his thumbs and nodding into the camera with gigantic eyes while Namjoon next to him does most of the talking, looking very tall and reassuring as he talks about their nomination.

Taehyung sneaks a look at Dilara behind the cameras and crew, leaning against one of the vanity mirrors next to Kaya. She catches his eye and gives him a gorgeous smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. Her scent still feels like it’s lingering; something expensive and fragrant and he takes a deep breath on camera, trying to hang on to it.

He doesn’t get an opportunity to get near it again for nearly an hour, once everyone is segregated into different cars for the half-a-block ride to the afterparty. 

One of the male stylists suggests a couple of times to Kaya to take a jacket because it might get cold at night, until she politely and firmly declines. She and Dilara enter the party first, before any of the members arrive and make a beeline for the open bar.

“I think I’ve had enough alcohol for today.” Kaya purses her lips and asks for a lemon spritzer, using the plastic stirrer with a sigh. In the midst of the party, complete with celebrities only seen on TV wearing the most outrageous outfits, Kaya looks extremely out of place in a normal dress and heels.

“How long before we can officially start acknowledging the guys in public again?” Dilara asks, mostly in an effort to engage her, but also because she’d been a little taken aback by the categorical instructions that the producers had given her and Kaya just before they’d gotten into the car.

“Usually about an hour or so,” supplies Kaya, taking a deep breath and sipping her drink. “The photographers apparently only show up at the beginning to cover the event and after that it’s a private party. Or something,” she adds after a moment, sounding disgruntled. “Who cares, right? It’s not like we know anyone else here.”

Dilara is more convinced than ever that she and Namjoon are in a fight. She finds herself strangely invested in it; she imagines this might be what it feels like to watch one’s parents fight.

“Well,” she begins, taking a sip of her drink. “If it helps, I don’t know anyone else here either.” She throws a friendly arm around Kaya’s shoulders. “We can just not know anyone together.”

Kaya gives her a forced smile before spotting something over her shoulder. “Isn’t that Lewis Hamilton over there?”

Dilara’s face goes slack and her arm falls to her side as she whips around. “Holy shit. Holy - it is! What is he doing here?”

“Probably the same thing you are.” Kaya raises her eyebrows. “He’s probably someone’s date,” she explains. “He was at the show, though.”

“Yeah, that’s because he’s Lewis,” reasons Dilara, turning back around to spot him in polite conversation with someone, his dreadlocks pulled back and his deep purple suit sparkling dimly under the strobe lights. “I should go say hi - do you want to come?”

For the first time all evening, Kaya’s face breaks out into an actual smile. “Are you serious? I - Lewis?” She exhales shakily and immediately smooths down her short, satin dress. “Are you sure?”

Dilara grins. “Of course. He’s pretty nice.”

Kaya begins adjusting her hair, looking thoroughly starstruck. “Okay. Shit. He’s, like, my favourite driver. After - after you, of course,” she amends sheepishly, squeezing Dilara’s arm. “You really don’t mind?”

“Despite that, no. I don’t.” She grabs Kaya’s hand and begins walking in his direction. “Come on.” They head over to Lewis, who spots Dilara just as they reach.

There’s some general pleasantries; Dilara can tell Lewis feels just the tiniest bit more comfortable around someone from his territory as he introduces his date, a vaguely familiar singer she can’t place. She introduces Kaya, who blushes and stammers a bit but ends up coming across as awkward and charming all at once. 

Dilara clicks a picture of them, then poses with Lewis for one of the official photographers before they separate, at which point BTS finally arrives. She catches Hoseok’s eye first, followed by Taehyung who grins at her, cameras apparently be damned, while Namjoon seems to be very methodically scanning the party until he spots Kaya and his shoulders relax a bit.

While BTS’s producers had given both Dilara and Kaya a mild warning to stay away from the guys initially, no such intimation seems to have reached the group themselves. Jungkook joins them almost immediately, looking surprised but rather enamoured at meeting Lewis, who seems to be vaguely taken off guard at meeting so many new people all of a sudden.

“You’re here with a date, too?” he asks her during a brief moment when Jungkook has to answer his phone in the midst of interrogating Lewis about his gym routine.

“I’m here as a date,” she corrects him, feeling pleasantly tingly as she says it. “This may be totally anti-feminist of me or whatever, but there’s something kind of cool about being on someone’s arm in their… well, in their version of the paddock.” 

Lewis chuckles knowingly, glancing briefly at his date who’s speaking to someone else. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a nice change. I didn’t see you at the show, though.”

“Nope, I was watching the show from backstage,” she explains, spotting Taehyung and Hoseok reaching them. “Being a supportive girlfriend and all that,” she adds, smiling at Taehyung as he nears her.

“Oh, well, your boyfriend’s a lucky guy.” He pats Jungkook’s arm, who’s just finished his call, and it takes Dilara a moment to realise what he’s talking about.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” she clarifies immediately, snickering at Jungkook’s wide eyes and deer-in-headlights expression. “God, no. This is my boyfriend.” She links her arm with Taehyung’s, who’s just reached them, once again taken aback at how handsome he looks in his suit .

Lewis’s smile vanishes and he looks momentarily mortified. “Oh, damn. Sorry, man, I just assumed - but my mistake. Lewis,” he introduces himself, offering his hand. Taehyung shakes it and introduces himself, but Dilara can hear the slight clip in his words and after some awkward conversation, they disperse.

“I thought you guys couldn’t be seen with us.” Dilara takes care to keep her hands to herself as she and Taehyung head over to the bar, noticing the frequent and admiring glances he gets from other guests. She moves a little closer to him, their shoulders brushing.

“I don’t really care about that here,” he says dismissively, taking her hand but letting it go a moment later. “Unless you do? If you’re worried about the cameras, we can stay away,” he assures her. “Most of these photographers won’t be able to publish anything about us without the company going after them, but if you have a problem…”

“I don’t want to,” she admits, her shoulders slumping a little. “I thought I’d be invisible at this party but now that Lewis is here, this is going to make its way into the sports’ page somehow.” She shudders. “There’s nothing worse than an athlete’s love life being made public. Takes away from the sport entirely. Only playboy-Lewis can get away with it,” she adds, glancing in his direction a little resentfully.

“It’s settled, then,” says Taehyung, stopping at the bar and asking for a whiskey with soda. “We’ll keep our distance tonight. No acting like a couple.”

Dilara nods, setting her empty glass on the bar and leaning against it. “No holding hands, no kissing.”

“No dancing. No matter the song,” he adds, rolling his eyes as one of their mutual favourite R&B tracks begins playing.

She makes a face and nudges his arm. “Nothing at all. Not until we get back to the hotel.”

“M-hm.” He nods, taking a sip from his drink. “Then I can get under that beautiful dress and eat you out until you’re begging for my cock,” he says nonchalantly, his deep voice low and still cutting through the loud music.

Dilara almost chokes, feeling a jolt low in her stomach that slowly spreads even lower. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she says weakly, exhaling shakily as a faint smirk spreads across his face. 

“Can’t wait.” He glances around them and quickly presses a chaste kiss to her cheek. “See you later, jagiya.” He walks past her and blends into the crowd, turning around and giving her a smile just before he disappears.

Her heart still racing, Dilara looks around for something to distract her. She spots a figure in shiny red, long blown-out black hair casually falling down one shoulder, standing alone with a glass and looking like a lonely, troubled protagonist from an R-rated indie movie about drugs and shady characters.

“Heyyy,” she says slowly, sidling up to Kaya. “How’s it going?”

“Fabulous.” Her excited demeanour while meeting Lewis seems to have disappeared entirely, to be replaced by a sarcastic, slightly put-out tone. She briefly glances diagonally across before scoffing quietly and turning away.

Dilara follows her gaze to see Namjoon, in conversation with a tall woman with purple hair whose back is to them, speaking animatedly over the music. As she watches, the woman laughs at something he says and flirtatiously pushes his shoulder. 

“Oh, shit,” mutters Dilara, wincing slightly.

“Do you think it’ll cause a scene if I kick something right now?” Kaya murmurs, looking deliberately into her glass.

“Possibly,” she replies, trying not to make it obvious to Namjoon that they’re talking about him. “If it helps, he’s not encouraging her. And he’s - oh, God - he’s looking over here,” she mutters quickly, her eyes snapping away.

“Yeah, he’s been doing that. It’s not helping.”

Dilara sneaks another look and wrinkles her nose a little. “I mean… he really doesn’t seem comfortable with it.”

It’s true, for Namjoon, while being polite and engaging, seems to be making every effort to maintain a professional distance. His hands are in his pockets and he subtly leans away every few seconds whenever the woman he’s talking to gets closer. His gaze darts furtively in Kaya’s direction again, who seems to be determined not to acknowledge him.

“Well, he’s still there, isn’t he?” Kaya snaps quietly, taking a large sip of her clear drink. “Sorry,” she murmurs after a moment. “It’s just annoying watching this every time, you know? They think he’s single and I have to keep my damn distance…” She shakes her head.

“Hey, I get it,” agrees Dilara sympathetically. “He’s looking over here again, though.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, not turning around. “Yeah? You think I should walk away?”

“Oh, definitely. Sweep your hair back as you do; it’ll drive him crazy.”

“Okay, tell me when.”

“Okay…” Dilara glances at Namjoon as subtly as she can for confirmation. “I’m going to go this way now. Wait five seconds and go the opposite way.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

They nod shortly at each other before Dilara sweeps away, her long dress flowing behind her. 

Kaya waits the appropriate amount of time but unable to resist, looks back over her shoulder at Namjoon again, just to see him nod and smile at something the woman says, his dimple visible all the way from over her. The woman goes in to hug him and Namjoon instinctively hugs her back with one arm and winces slightly, his eyes darting right towards Kaya.

Irritated beyond belief, she scoffs quietly and walks away, certainly less attractive than Dilara had advised. It’s a crowded party, though, and everyone seems to be actively enjoying themselves which she finds thoroughly unfair right now. Finally, she reaches the entrance and takes a turn into a balcony, mercifully empty except for a couple of men smoking at the other corner.

She leans over the bannister and sighs in annoyance, unable to appreciate the beauty of the hotel gardens at all. She’ll stay here all night if she has to, she decides, if it means not having to watch her stupid boyfriend with his stupid attractiveness flirt with the stupid women who can’t seem to stay away from it.

The night is chilly, though, and once her chagrin starts to subside somewhat, she feels goosebumps erupt on her arm. She tries unsuccessfully to shake some of her hair over her shoulders to cover the bare skin, regretting not taking that stylist’s advice to bring a jacket.

Mind over matter, she tries to tell herself, braving the cold. Just as she exhales and sees her breath turn into light mist, the cold is suddenly blocked and she feels a jacket being placed over her shoulders. The comfortingly familiar cologne tells her who it is before he appears before her, leaning sideways against the bannister in a slightly sheer black shirt and slacks.

“What are you drinking?” he asks calmly.

“Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic,” she mutters, trying to not show her relief at having a jacket. She places her glass on the edge of the bannister and glares in the opposite direction.

After a moment, Namjoon speaks again. “Kaya, that was work.”

“Looked like it.”

He sighs. “I have to be nice or there’ll be an article tomorrow somewhere about how BTS is rude and standoffish. I wasn’t responding to her at all,” he points out gently.

This is irrefutably true, but Kaya is in no mood to agree with him right now. The image of that purple-haired singer grabbing his arm makes her grit her teeth.

“It was pathetic to watch,” she mutters, shaking her head. “What kind of self-respecting woman goes after a guy with a girlfriend?”

He touches her elbow. “Baby, she doesn’t know.”

“Fine, would you like me to go tell her?” she snaps, finally looking up at him. It’s dark but for the moon and the lights from inside the party, but Kaya can still see mouth twist before he purses his lips and a dimple appears on his left cheek. “Shut up,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

Namjoon snickers quietly, moving closer to her. He looks so handsome - insanely handsome - that it only annoys her even more when his grin widens.

“Alright, you know what? How about I go in there,” she suggests tightly, shrugging off the jacket and slamming it in his chest, “and find some guy to flirt with and we’ll see how funny you find it then.” 

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” laughs Namjoon, grabbing her wrist as she turns to leave and tugging her towards him. “You win. And I was not flirting with her.”

Kaya gives him a look but says nothing, folding her arms across her chest as he tenderly places the jacket back around her shoulders.

“I told one of the stylists to tell you to bring a jacket,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly. “I had a feeling it might get cold.”

“Oh,” she murmurs in surprise, as he smooths down the lapels. “Yeah, I - I guess I should’ve brought one.”

Namjoon drops his arms back to his side and tilts his head. “Was I too harsh?” he asks after a moment.

Kaya swallows, her gaze falling to the ground. “You mean back at the hotel or after that, when you abandoned me at a party where I don’t know anybody? Because if it’s the second, then, yes. If it’s the first… no,” she admits. “Not really.”

They’re quiet for a few seconds, the only sounds being from the party inside. Despite the less-than-perfect evening, Kaya can’t help but finally feel a bit relieved to be in his presence. There’s something instantly safer about it; it’s worth the risk of photographers prowling around.

“I know how important your job is to you,” she points out after a moment, looking up at him. “I know how important tonight was for you - do you really think I’d ruin it for you by showing up plastered?”

“I was on edge, okay?” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair. “I was coordinating with a bunch of different people, the company was calling from Korea and -” He gives her a look. “Forgive me, baby, but you… don’t have the best track record when it comes to alcohol.”

Kaya’s eyes automatically widen, despite the cold, hard truth in this statement. “That’s… I - I was nowhere near as bad as Barcelona. Or even that book launch in Seoul last year. I paced myself today.”

“No, I - I’m sure you did.” He nods. “I trust you. But I was… it’s been a crazy stressful day,” he blurts out, suddenly looking far more tired. “Honestly, it’s a miracle we pulled off that performance today. We got through it by the skin of our teeth,” he confesses in a low voice, shaking his head slightly as though he still can’t believe it.

Kaya frowns. “What are you talking about? You guys seemed fine backstage - I mean, from what I could understand.”

“Jin hyung strained his throat this morning during rehearsal and Jungkook pulled a muscle that he kept insisting was fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer - the entire performance, I just kept worrying he’d fall on stage or something. And then Bang PD called me this morning to tell me about a meeting with Snoop Dogg and his entire team, with, like, an hour of notice.” Namjoon leans back against the bannister and hunches over, resting his hands on his thighs. He exhales hugely, as though he’s been holding his breath all day. “And all this was before lunch.”

“But -” She frowns, feeling her heart ache a little at his little outburst. “Namjoon, why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“Because you had plans and… and it’s not your job to worry about this, too,” he says vaguely, straightening up but not meeting her eyes. “You’re here for less than a week as it is.”

“Yeah, but I’m here for you!” Kaya shakes her head. “You are the reason I’m here. Walking around Los Angeles is way down in my list, and only because I didn’t want to get in your way.”

He looks away, and she knows it’s because they’re going down a familiar route. “I was afraid if I told you, you’d cancel your plans, okay?”

“So?” Unlike him, she looks right at him, raising her eyebrows questioningly. “If I want to cancel, I’ll cancel. That’s up to me. Namjoon…” She sighs and takes his hand, waiting until he looks at her. “We’ve had this conversation before. You don’t have to protect my morale, okay? I’m not in your group. You’re not my leader - you’re my partner. And I’m your partner. But I can only be that if you let me.”

“Kaya, of course you’re my -”

“Not if you don’t tell me about the bad stuff,” she interrupts, cutting him off. “And you were - you’d started telling me things after the last time this happened.” She strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. “Why didn’t you this time?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, staring at their hands. “It was a lot,” he murmurs finally.

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me anyway.”

He nods slowly, sighing and looking up at her. He squeezes her hand and she squeezes it back, hoping he understands.

“Especially if you’re going to snap at me because of it.”

“I didn’t -”

“Just -” She cuts him off again, shushing him and moving closer to him, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist. She rests her forehead against his neck and waits for him to slowly, slightly awkwardly hug her back, and tightens her arms around him. After a moment, she feels him relax slightly.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he mumbles against her hair.

She nods and shifts to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I should’ve been back sooner.”

They stay like that for a few more seconds when she remembers something.

“Oh, God.” Kaya takes a step back. “Is this allowed?”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Are we allowed to… hug?”

“Yeah. Because of the photographers…” She points vaguely to the party. “Your producers said we should keep a distance because of the photographers - are they still here?”

“Wait, they said what?” His expression changes from confused to one of disbelief. “Again? I told them last time that there was no need to -”

“That’s not the point - I was asking about photographers and if there’s -”

“No, this is not okay, you don’t need to -”

“Namjoon, they’re just doing their job. It’s okay.” She nudges him gently. “I don’t think they’re here anymore. Not outside, at least.”

He straightens the jacket around her. “You look incredible,” he murmurs. “Like, out of this world, driving me crazy every second of tonight… incredible.” His eyes flicker over her figure. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you.”

Kaya bites her lip, trying not to reveal how her heart zooms at his words even three years later. “Really? Not even long enough for Miss USA to drape herself all over you?”

“I think she’s Canadian.”

She stares at him, tongue in her cheek until he snorts and pulls her closer by the hand, tilting his head slightly to kiss her on the cheek.

“I hate fighting with you,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to her temple.

Her eyes flutter shut and she breathes in his scent, nuzzling his neck lightly. “Then stop looking so hot while you do it,” she snaps softly, just before their heads turn together and they share a kiss. She can feel his smile as his hand comes up to rest against her face, the kiss soft and teasing and sinking.

A cold gust of wind blows and Kaya shivers, pulling away slightly. “Shit, I didn’t think it’d be this cold.”

“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over her jaw. “I can see your nipples through the dress.”

“What?” She instinctively hunches her shoulders and pulls the jacket tighter around her. “Are you serious?”

“M-hm.” His eyes flicker down to her chest and a smirk spreads across his face. “They look really sexy.”

“Don’t try to sexy talk me right now, Kim Namjoon,” she whispers, slapping his shoulder lightly. “Especially when you can’t follow through.”

Namjoon grins. “Fair enough. Although if you find a place private enough, I could be persuaded to show just how much I love seeing your nipples through your dress.”

She gives him a warning look before frowning slightly. “Actually, it’s pretty secluded here. Quiet.”

He raises his eyebrows and looks around the balcony. “Here? You want to fool around where anyone could walk in?”

Kaya chuckles. “No,” she answers. “I want you to talk to me about why you were stressed today.”

Namjoon’s smile fades. “Kaya…” When her expression doesn’t change, he sighs. “Why does it matter now? Everything worked out.”

“That’s good. You can tell me knowing that everything worked out.” She gives him the best doe eyes she can muster, knowing that a sexy dress is nothing compared to that when it comes to Namjoon. “Please.”

His eyes flicker but a moment later, he nods. “Okay, then.” He leans back against the bannister again and shakes his head affectionately at her. “I’m powerless when you ask me anything like that.” Smiling at her proud grin, he begins.

—

“Ugh, my feet are killing me.” Dilara leans against the closed door of their room and takes off her heels one by one. “How women in the entertainment industry wear this every day and not die, I will never understand. But it was a fun party,” she adds, tilting her head up and shaking back her hair so the cold air of the AC can permeate through it.

A few steps ahead of her, Taehyung loosens his tie and unties it, chucking it on the couch and going towards the mini bar in the room, stocked with snacks and bottles of water. He unscrews one and takes a long sip from it, his profile sharp.

“Turns out it’s a good thing Lewis was there because I would’ve been completely alone otherwise. Especially once Kaya and Namjoon made up. Oh, I have to send her the pictures…” She slides her phone out of her clutch and begins AirDropping them to her, selecting pictures of she and Lewis, and she and Namjoon looking rightfully back in love for the second half of the party. 

“... never seen Lewis dance this much before,” she continues. “I mean, he did seem a bit awkward at first but he was a good sport. Oh, and then Jungkook turned up, of course, and then Lewis genuinely loosened up a bit. By the way, I think Jungkook has a crush on him or something - he kept looking for excuses to hang out with us and basically talked his ear off about the season…”

Dilara looks up to see Taehyung taking off his jacket in silence, deliberately not looking at her. It’s strange; she wonders briefly if he’s annoyed at their lack of interaction at the party, but as far as she remembers, that had been a mutual decision. She tries again.

“So, uh…” She leans on her arm against the doorway of the bathroom, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “If I recall, you’d promised me something at the party. Something about my dress and…” She rides out the pause, watching him intently “...begging?”

“What if I say no?”

It occurs to Dilara only when he says it, that she hasn’t actually heard him speak more than a couple of words here and there since they left the party. She’d chalked it down to the other people in the car and general tiredness, but now she’s not sure.

“What?”

“What if I say no to sex tonight?” he repeats, unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt and still not looking at her.

“Then… we don’t have sex.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Dilara raises her eyebrows, utterly confused. “Am I okay with not having sex if you don’t want to? Yes. What is going on?”

“What’s the point then?” His words are biting - but something about this seems familiar. “Why are you here?”

“Are you serious?” She drops her arm and stands straight, feeling ridiculous. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“We’re not having sex,” he says, finally turning to her and the suddenness of it takes her aback. “So why are you here?”

Dilara takes a deep breath. Less than a month ago, she had been in a mood, a bad mood. She’d taken it out on everything around her, including Taehyung halfway across the world - and he’d silently let her until she’d calmed down herself. 

Taehyung is in a mood now, but letting him be in one is the worst thing she can do. He needs confrontation, whether or not he responds to it. He needs an argument, an opportunity to sulk and to get on the defensive before he concedes to the real issue.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks him clearly, placing a hand on her hip and frowning at him. “Or do you just want to start a fight?”

Taehyung holds her gaze for a few seconds, eyes impassive and dark eyebrows slanting upwards. Then he swallows and shakes his head, looking at the floor.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he mutters to her surprise. “I’m just… I’m just not in the mood, okay?” He shuffles up to her and hesitantly kisses her cheek, before moving past her and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

It’s an unprecedented situation, and Dilara can feel the initial worry of not knowing how to handle this - or even what this is. She tucks her hands behind her head on the pillow and frowns at the ceiling when the bathroom door opens and Taehyung emerges, his face bare of the make-up and hair slightly damp at the roots.

He looks up at her and stops in his tracks, taking in her t-shirt and underwear. “You changed.”

“Yeah.” She nods, trying to keep her tone even. “You said you didn’t want to have sex.”

For a moment, she thinks he’s going to make a snarky comment but then he nods. “Okay.” He changes into the same pajamas from the morning and forgoes a shirt, not speaking till he’s done. “You want to watch a movie?”

“A movie?”

“Yeah,” he says, climbing onto the bed and half-lying down next to her but making no physical contact. “Look, they have Pride and Prejudice,” he adds, scrolling through the options.

Dilara can’t believe she’s actually wishing for a fight, for this… this strange effort to not start a fight is throwing her off completely. She knows she should look at this as a positive and yet, it troubles her more than she expected.

She gives him a sideways glance to see him watching the opening credits, the picture reflecting in his pupils but the rest of his face betraying nothing. In a sudden movement, she reaches over and snatches the remote from his hand, and turns the television off.

“Hey!”

But Dilara ignores him, chucking the remote to the side and blocking him from going after it by straddling him.

“What are you doing? Lara -”

“I let you manhandle me during sex because we both like it but we both also know I’m stronger than you,” she hisses, pinning his shoulders to the pillow. She waits for him to relax underneath her before she loosens her grip. “Now will you please tell me what’s wrong?” she demands.

Taehyung narrows his eyes. “Is it bothering you this much that I said I didn’t want to have sex?”

“Shut up.” She hears her voice tremble a bit. “You’re hiding something from me. Again.”

She sees the moment it dawns on him what she’s referring to and his face goes slack. “Oh, hey… it’s nothing like that,” he says immediately, his voice low and reassuring. “I promise.”

“Then tell me.”

Taehyung purses his lips and looks away, glaring at the curtains to the side. He swallows. “Why are you here?” he asks, so quietly that she’s unsure for a moment if he’s speaking to her at all.

“What does that mean?”

“Why are you here?” he repeats, a little louder this time and looks up at her again. “Here, in LA, with - with me?”

Dilara stares at him. “I don’t know. Because we’re dating?” she says sarcastically. “Because we haven’t seen each other in a month - because I missed you and flew across two continents to see you? Because I love -”

“But why do you love me?”

“Is this about last year?” she asks after a moment, her stomach already twisting at the reminder. “Because I told you, I - I’ve forgiven - I mean, we’re moving forward with our -”

“No, it’s not about last year,” he interrupts her. “Or it is - I guess everything will always be about last year, a little bit.” He licks his lips slowly, looking at her imploringly. “Do you… do you think we make sense?”

Her shoulders relax a bit, despite how unexpected the question is. “Doesn’t everyone say we do?”

“In a funny way, yeah,” he admits. “But… do you think we make sense?”

He’s looking for an actual answer, she realises. “Yes,” she says simply. “I do.”

“Really? You don’t think you’d make more sense with one of your driver friends or… I don’t know…” He shrugs. “... Jungkook or someone?”

Something clicks, something so obvious she feels she should’ve been expecting it all along.

“Oh. This is about Lewis,” she guesses. “About him thinking Jungkook was my boyfriend? Tae, Lewis is the biggest recluse on the grid, okay? He doesn’t know anything about anyone’s life - I’m surprised he even knew one of you was my boyfriend.”

“He’s not completely wrong.”

“No - what? Yes, he is. The only reason he thought it was Jungkook is because he started talking to him about racing.”

“Look, this isn’t about Lewis,” says Taehyung quickly. “Okay? Don’t you think sometimes that you and Jungkook might make more sense?”

“No. I don’t love him; I don’t even like him like that. He’s like my brother,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “And you know this.”

He covers his face with his hands and sighs. “God, okay. Not Jungkook specifically, but, like… Chris or - or someone you haven’t met yet. Someone that a person like Lewis will look at and immediately guess is your boyfriend?”

“Why?” she asks instantly. “Because we both like sports? Because we go to the gym together sometimes? Tae, those are hobbies. I have something in common with all my friends. That’s why they’re my friends.”

“And we’re something more?”

“Yes. God, I can’t believe you’re having to ask me this. After everything that’s happened.” She shakes her head, feeling slightly offended but when Taehyung doesn’t respond and simply lowers his gaze to his hands, she realises this may just be bigger than her. 

“Oh, my God, you’re still not convinced.” She sighs. “What do you want - a list of why we make more sense? Why I shouldn’t be with… Jungkook or - God forbid - Chris Park or someone?”

“A list would be good.”

Dilara raises her eyebrows. “Fine. Jungkook wouldn’t have taken me to an underground jazz bar in Ischia. He probably wouldn’t have even taken me to Ischia, out of nowhere and to such a secluded island. Chris wouldn’t have rented that particular villa,” she counts, holding up a second finger, “the one that looked like a gothic Victorian mansion because his primary requirement anywhere is an indoor gym. And literally no one else I know would have drawn a stick figure of Van Gogh on a pebble from the beach, called it “Darwin” and pretended it was a real living pet for the entire trip.”

Taehyung’s mouth twitches and she feels a bubble of encouragement in her chest.

“None of them would have pretended to be Will Turner to my Elizabeth Swann in that thrift store, because everyone usually wants to be Jack Sparrow,” she points out. “Jungkook wouldn’t have taken me to that jazz club because he hates jazz, Chris wouldn’t have danced with me in the street because he’s too stuck-up for that… and Tae -” Dilara sighs, squeezing his shoulder. “No one could’ve put up with as much punishment as you did last year for me. I gave you a lot of crap. I’m not saying you didn’t deserve it, but… it was a lot of crap,” she admits. “And you stayed through all of it. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done that.”

He gives her a small shrug after a moment. “You’d be surprised. It was worth it.”

“Be that as it may… Tae, no one else would’ve told me, in thirty-six hours of knowing me, that they loved me,” she reminds him, the memory from a thousand years ago still making her heart soar. “I mean, a person would have to be insane to do something like that.”

“You said it back.”

“I did. That’s my point.”

Taehyung bites his lip, and she can see the tip of his nose start to redden. “Lara…”

“No one else would’ve fucked me on the roof of your concert stadium in this city two years ago,” she adds. “Or got so jealous of Charlie Puth kissing me that they broke a glass.”

He frowns. “Didn’t you get angry with me for that later that night?”

“That and other things,” she admits, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t love how much you cared.”

He gives her a half-chuckle. “You’re sure you’re not here just because the sex is really good?”

“The sex is really good,” she agrees earnestly. “And no one else could do to me what you do. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel half the things I do with you.”

Taehyung is quiet. His nose is reddening and his gaze is lowered, and he’s biting his lip hard.

“It really, really sucked losing you last year,” he whispers, sniffing.

“I know. It really sucked to lose you, too.” Dilara reaches over to brush her thumb against his cheekbone. “Taehyung. Tell me you get it. Tell me you know why I’m here. Why I’m still here,” she adds, her voice cracking slightly on the word.

“I’m so sorry. For last year.”

“I know.”

“I promise I’ll do better.” He reaches for her hand and links his fingers with hers, finally looking up at her with wet eyes. “Just don’t leave me, okay? I think it’ll kill me.”

“Write me a song.”

“I’ll write you a hundred.”

Dilara gives him a watery smile and dabs at the corner of her eye with the heel of her palm before lowering herself to kiss him, feeling him wrap his arms around her instantly and pulling her down to his side. He kisses her deeply, with a soft desperation and gratitude for a second chance.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a few seconds, his forehead against hers. “That dress was beautiful and I know you were looking forward to tonight.”

“Forget it. I’d rather watch the movie.” She pulls away and shrugs. “And the dress isn’t going anywhere. It’s mine.”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her to his side, lying on his back to face the television again. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

—

In a different bedroom of the same suite, Jimin enters and kicks off his shoes. “Tell me you have make-up wipes here,” he says to Jungkook, sighing dramatically. “I can feel it burning through my skin.”

Jungkook points noncommittally to the bathroom from where he’s sitting next to Hoseok on the couch and peering into his laptop screen.

“By the way, hyung,” calls Jimin from inside the bathroom, and Hoseok and Yoongi both look up out of habit. “You called it. Chaeyoung’s moving into Sooah’s place. She just told me.”

“Thank God.” Hoseok closes his hands into a fist while Yoongi silently goes back to his phone. “I’ve been trying to incept the idea in their minds for a few days now. But that didn’t work so I just asked Sooah,” he adds after a moment, shrugging.

Just then, the door opens and Namjoon enters, in a hoodie and track pants. “Need to borrow lotion, if someone has any,” he says, cutting right to the chase.

“In the suitcase, hyung,” supplies Jungkook, pointing to an open suitcase with items inside it neatly tucked into pockets. “Where’s Kaya?”

“In the shower.” Namjoon rummages through and retrieves a travel-size bottle. Squeezing some into one palm and rubbing his hands together, he takes stock of the room. “Isn’t Jimin here?”

“I’m here!” Jimin emerges, dabbing a cotton pad over his bare face. “God, I just want one whole day of anonymity tomorrow. JK, you want to go to Hollywood Boulevard with me?”

Before Jungkook can answer, Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Why? So you can forget about your faux pas from tonight?”

Jungkook suddenly looks far more interested. “What faux pas?” he asks excitedly. 

“Nothing,” snaps Jimin, glaring at Namjoon.

“He talked to The Weeknd at the party,” says Yoongi dryly, without looking up from his phone. “And he called him…” He looks up at Jimin slowly, a hint of a smirk on his face, “… The Weeknd.”

Hoseok and Jungkook guffaw, while Jimin goes red in the face. “How was I supposed to know?” he demands shrilly, his voice getting drowned in laughter. “He only ever uses his stage name! Does anyone actually know his real name?”

“It’s Abel,” says Namjoon, the same time Jungkook says “it’s Joel.”

“See?” Jimin huffs while Jungkook processes this new information. “It’s just my bad luck that he came up to me and not JK,” he mutters, throwing his used make-up wipe at him.

“He would’ve had to leave Lewis Hamilton alone for that to happen,” points out Yoongi.

“I wasn’t with him the whole time,” says Jungkook defensively. “But he looked so cool. And it wasn’t just him - Dilara was there most of the time, too.”

Hoseok chuckles. “You mean your girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s stomach jolts belatedly when Namjoon grins at his hands. “What?” he asks, wondering if he’s missed a joke.

“Oi, Jimin!” Hoseok calls out excitedly. “Jungkook had an embarrassing moment, too. He was fanboying about F1 so hard that Lewis Hamilton thought he was Dilara’s boyfriend.”

Jimin’s eyes widen, while even Yoongi snorts. “What?” he asks in a hushed voice, looking delighted at the news of Jungkook’s embarrassment. “Where was Taehyung?”

“Right there.” Hoseok pats Jungkook’s shoulder, still snickering. “If it helps, Lewis looked more embarrassed than you did,” he informs him.

Jungkook chuckles along with everyone else, trying not to reveal his mild confusion. It had been strange and awkward for a moment when Lewis had made that mistake, especially when Dilara had laughed it off and immediately corrected him, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and looking up proudly at him. 

But Jungkook hadn’t thought much of it, not until Hoseok just joked about it. You mean your girlfriend?

Jungkook is no stranger to awkwardness. He knows awkwardness; he lives and breathes it. Awkwardness is his roommate, when it truly comes down to it. Ergo, the strange jolt he’d felt in front of Lewis when he’d mistaken Jungkook for Dilara’s boyfriend was not awkwardness. It wasn’t even embarrassment, as his members and he himself presumed until now.

No, Jungkook realises now, with a looming dread he would acknowledge only later, that he liked it.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#namjoon x oc #taehyung x oc #namjoon fanfic #taehyung fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #houseofddaeng #k-vanity #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts rm fanfic #bts v fanfic #bts taehyung smut