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garbinge · 1 month

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SO SIMPLE (4/?)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader // Word Count: 5.4k Summary: After meeting Rooster (and some people in his life), you two walk on the beach and share some things with each other. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst re: heavy topics. Mentions of parental loss/grief. Mentions of lifting reader off the ground. A/N: For some reason this was really hard for me to write lol. I feel like it's filler without being filler? If that makes sense lol. I do have a rough plan for these two that'll probably span over a few more fics! Thanks to everyone whose enjoyed this! Appreciate you all <3

📲 Bradley: You busy?

💬 You: Depends.

📲 Bradley: What if I told you I’ll be shirtless?

💬 You: I’m free.

📲 Bradley: I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.

💬 You: I know, you’ve got killer abs too.

📲 Bradley: I feel objectified.

💬 You: It’s not objectification if you enjoy the attention.

📲 Bradley: You got me there.

💬 You: So what are these plans where you’ll be shirtless?

📲 Bradley: Beach in front of The Hard Deck, 4PM.

💬 You: Do I need tickets?

📲 Bradley: Tickets?

💬 You: To the gun show.

📲 Bradley: Admission is always free for you.

Smiling, you put your phone down and looked at the time, there was about an hour until 4. With a sigh, you opened the laptop in front of you, adjusting yourself in the office chair that was large, leather, and brown, not your style at all, until you were comfortable and looked over to your right. The image of your family sat dusty and in the same position it had always been in, right next to the few medals and pen stand. This was the one spot you knew you’d be able to write what you needed to.

You were right, because before you knew it, the sun was shining golden through the window behind you and you realized it was definitely past 4.

“Shit.” You shut the laptop closed and pushed your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Walking up on the sand, you saw the large group of pilots playing football. They were laughing, tackling, yelling, dancing all while you brought your hand over your eyes to take the scene in. Your eyes scanned over them all, first seeing your brother, pointing at someone with a large grin before the play was called out. Your glance jumped around to see Rooster, sunglasses on–of course, his tongue hanging out as he caught the ball and landed a touchdown, following it up with a dance as he threw the ball to the ground.

You let out a laugh, which caused someone to turn around to your left. As your eyes caught it in the peripheral, you turned, seeing Penny, the owner of The Hard Deck with a bunch of notebooks out on the table.

“Sorry.” You moved the back of your hand that was shielding your eyes from the sun to your mouth to muffle the laugh as well as physically show your apology for the startle.

“No need.” She politely spoke, pointing to the table inviting you to sit. “I could use the company.”

Joining the woman, you sat down so you were facing her, but your head couldn’t help but move to look out at the team having a good time and she was doing the same.

Eventually, she introduced herself, you gave her your name following it up with some pleasantries about the bar so she knew you were well aware of who she was even without the introduction. It was then that she put a finger on who you were. “Your Rooster’s friend, right?”

That was new for you. Everytime you’d come home, you’d be referred to as Admiral Garcia’s daughter, Lieutenant Mickey Garcia’s sister, but never Rooster’s friend.

“I am.” You agreed and looked over at the team tackling one another again, your eyes searching for Bradley. “Can I ask you something?” With your head moving back to Penny, she looked up from her paperwork and nodded. “What’s it like being back here?”

Her confused look held strong for a few seconds which made you elaborate. “I might not have spent time at the bar, but I know the news around here, read that you spent some time here on base when you were younger, your father was an Admiral, then after some time you came back and bought the bar.”

“Didn’t know my reputation preceded me like that.” Her smile grew and she dropped her pen and her hands intertwined with themselves as she stretched them across the table.

“I like to read the paper.” You rolled your eyes slightly embarrassed and shrugged.

“It’s…” Her voice trailed off as she thought of the right word. “It’s different. While having these incredible moments of the same feelings.”

You nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. But she still took the time to discuss the details on that.

“I’m different, right? I’m not who I was when I was here all those years ago. I have a kid now, a business, but even more than that, I’ve learned so much and grown so much. But then there’s these moments where I feel like I’m that person again, or something feels exactly like it did back then.”

“Do you hate it?”

“Not even for a second.” She smirked, her grin glistening as the sky continued to get golden as he day slipped away. “Is it hard being back?”

Now it was your turn to be taken aback.

“I read the paper, too.” Her eyebrows raised and then fell as you could tell she was thinking of something until it finally came to her. “Life in Brief, I think it was called? Written by the girl who grew up in Fightertown USA.”

Now you understood and let out your own chuckle. “It is. But some things make it easier.” You turned again to watch the pilots lift up one of the guys you knew was Bob up in the air and let your grin grow wider. “But sometimes, being here is hard. The memories you know? Not all of them are the best. It’s easier to get past them when you’re not drowning in them.”

Penny nodded and let a few minutes of quiet pass before picking her pen back up with a shrug. “Maybe you’re back so you can learn to swim.”

That was something you never thought of and when you continued to marinate on it, you liked the sound of it. Feeling more in control of something that you thought you really had no control over at all these last years. You were about to answer her, get more in depth about what she meant, but instead another voice was filling the conversation.

“Didn’t think you’d show.” Rooster was running up to you, sweat glistening all over his body, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he bent down, leaning his arm on the table to prop him up so he could place a kiss to your lips.

“I’m sorry I lost track of time.” Your left hand extended up to catch his face as he was pulling it away, bringing it in for another kiss which he happily obliged to.

“Writing?” His face still twisted in a smile as he pulled away, hopeful he was right.

You nodded, hiding your excitement behind a muted smile that quickly turned into an open grin as he thrillingly threw you over his shoulder. Letting out a few cheers, he twirled you around as you laughed with a bit of nerves as the twirling continued.

“Rooster put me down!” It was spoken through your laughs and the occasional grip around his body to make sure he didn’t drop you. He listened, placing you down but it didn’t stop him from whirling you around and bringing you close to him, against his bare chest.

“This what weekdays as a Top Gun Fighter Pilot look like?” You were now wrapped in his arms, looking up at him dropping your head to the right where the crew continued to play football.

“Team building.”

It was all the explanation you needed. “Go team build then, I’ll spend some time with Penny.” You were untangling from his arms until he caught your hand for a brief moment and pulled you closer to him in one swift motion and chuckled as he caught you against his chest. Placing one more kiss to your lips, this time deeper than the first letting his tongue move around your bottom lip, his hand was still grasping yours closer to him not wanting to let you go anywhere.

You hadn’t known Bradley long, at this point it maybe was a week and a half, but what he said that night of your first real date was true. Things move fast when you’re on base. Days felt like weeks in some cases. It helped that every free moment he had, he’d share it with you. If he wasn’t on base training, he’d be at your place or at The Hard Deck with you. Now, you weren’t a stranger to dating. There was a fair share of relationships in your past. A couple serious ones that ended for one reason or another, a few more shorter ones that didn’t go past a few months, and a few more than that when it came to first dates and one night stands, but nothing felt like this. So simple.

There was also the fact of the matter that you hadn’t been in any of those situations since your father died. It was probably why Mickey was so hesitant to play any typical protective older brother role once he found out about you two. But Bradley was different. You just felt different around him.

“For good luck.” He whispered in your ear after he kissed you.

You picked back up where you left off with Penny, your conversation continued with little lulls and many laughs. It wasn’t always deep, she would tell you stories about Amelia, then about some of her favorite patrons of the bar. Currently, she was talking about how many people leave their phones on the bar when one of the culprits of just that came up to the table.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” An older, tall, dark-haired gentleman was approaching from the game as he placed his shirt back on. As he got closer, you realized you recognized him, you couldn’t put your finger on where exactly but you knew it probably had to do with your father. There had been quite literally thousands of naval pilots you had met over the years in passing. As he got closer, Penny introduced you to the man, letting you know he was the instructor for the team at Top Gun School. He leaned over to shake your hand, hearing his name–Pete Mitchell, sparked a little bit of your memory.

“Captain.” Is how you greeted him back, while you didn’t refer to many of the other pilots by their rank, you were raised to show respect where you felt it was needed and this was one of those moments.

“Pete, please.” He responded with a warm smile.

“This is Rooster’s…friend.” Penny trailed off at the end of her sentence, judging by your display of affection before she was well aware you were more than friends but wasn’t going to assume your relationship. Lord knows she wasn’t exactly sure on what hers was at this moment either.

Pete’s face got a little taken aback, his smile dropped just slightly, something maybe not everyone would notice but you learned to pay attention to little details like that. It’s what made your articles stand out, you’d be able to write a full paragraph based on a sparkle in someone’s eye or in this case sudden drop of a smile. Pocketing that small piece of information, you focused more on the conversation ahead of you with him.

“Where you visiting from?” He was trying to bounce back from his initial reaction all while he sat down next to Penny.

“Kettner Boulevard.” You were waiting for his eyes to widen and they did, you could tell because he lifted his sunglasses up like that was going to make what you said clearer or repeated to him. It was obvious he was searching your face for some familiarity trying to place you like a database running in his mind. Doing him the honor without needing to ask, you laughed and continued to talk. “I grew up here, Mick–Fanboy is my brother.” You pointed over to him. “Ad–”

Pete cut you off, “Admiral Garcia was your father, I’m sorry I didn’t realize. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I didn’t realize until you said your name.” You tried to make him feel more comfortable, speaking through a curt smile. “You were stationed on the USS John C. Stennis with my dad, right?”

“USS Ranger, actually. We were both on it when it got decommissioned.”

All it took was that one word to be spoken for it to snap into place. “That’s why you look familiar!” It had finally hit you, and your voice was drenched in satisfaction and excitement as you remembered. “You hacked the powerpoint montage at the decommissioning ceremony to show those hilarious videos from the guys on the ship over the years.”

“Cujo is the one who actually hacked the slideshow, I’m the one that gathered the footage.” He remembered it like it was yesterday. All the white uniforms in the crowd trying to hold in their laughs while the music played through the speakers and videos of crewmates dancing in their bunks or sneaking into the freezer to eat from the tubs of ice cream filled the screen.

“My dad loved to tell us that story, kept the photo of your group at the ceremony in his office, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much, especially after being put on a new assignment.” It was true, every time your father got put on a new assignment, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. It meant figuring things out like how long he’d be away from his family. It’s what made the jump from Lieutenant to Admiral easy for him.

“That and he decided to make the jump to Admiral that year.” Pete remembered it well, because he was one of the many that had rallied for him to get the promotion. All of that was so long ago, and as it all came back to him, the memories, the years that passed in between, it was then that he realized it was only a handful of years ago that the Admiral had passed. “I was sad to hear of his passing.” It was his way of offering condolences.

“Yea.” You nodded in agreement. “Thank you.” Your eyes moved to the water, it was hard to look at Penny or Pete, or anyone really, as you thought of your dad. “The service was nice.”

Pete shook his head, picking up on your change in mood. Penny as well, and she was about to change the subject but Pete jumped in.

“Are you Mickey’s older sister?”

That comment brought you back from your thoughts with the widest grin on your face. “You just made my day, Pete.”

With a confused smirk, he tilted his head looking for some sort of answer from you.

“I’m the middle child. Mickey’s the oldest and we have a younger brother.” The noise of the pilots who were currently tackling one another in a dogpile called the attention of the table over. Your brother was jumping on top which made you wonder. “How’s Mickey?”

You never got the chance to ask anyone but him about him. And while he wouldn’t lie to you, he also wasn’t one to complain much, he’d tell you about his day when you called, any big plans that the future held. In fact that’s what brought you to come home when you did, while things lined up perfectly with your contract at The Washington Post being up, knowing your brother was going to be on base for a bit made it more convincing for you to visit. But when it came to this part of his life, being on mission, in training, being one of the best of the best, you didn’t know much.

“He’s good, balanced–level headed as hell. Sometimes, you can tell when one of the guys is waiting for the other shoe to drop, you can see their anticipation, but not Mickey. He’s ready for whatever direction the shoe is dropping. Sometimes he’s even able to catch it.” Now it was Pete’s turn to look out at his team of pilots before turning back to you and shrugging. “Plus he knows his stuff.” Pete grinned at that and you did as well. “If I got a question, I know who to ask.”

“Sounds like Mickey, they don’t call him Fanboy for nothing. Him and my dad were the same way, every detail embedded into their brains.”

“He’s a good kid.” Pete nodded. “So how do you know Rooster?” That was the question you could tell he was waiting to ask you when it was appropriate. His face had hardened, just slightly, but again enough for you to notice.

It was what happened next though, where you really picked up on something.

“You ready to head out?” Rooster’s voice wasn’t in its usual tone. The straight lipped expression he was sporting and his eagerness to leave was enough in itself to show you there was something big in the air that you weren’t privy to. Not to mention that you hadn’t seen Bradley anything less than content in the time you had known him.

It took you a minute to respond, trying to rack your brain around whatever situation was brewing here. “Yea, sure.”

As you grabbed your bag and moved it over your shoulder, you offered a glance over at Pete and Penny. “Thanks for keeping me company.” As you climbed out of the bench, you shot a look over at Pete knowing he was going to love what you said next. “Keep Mickey on his toes, he might seem like he knows it all, but he’s got some pockets in that brain of his.”

“Long walks on the beach, smooth move, Rooster.” Hangman was calling out to Bradley from only a few feet away as he tossed one of the footballs in the air while you two began to stroll on the coastline. He was one of the last pilots on the beach, everyone else had either gone back to their places near base or made their way into The Hard Deck for a drink, but not Hangman. “Don’t let the tide wash away all your ego, already got you sitting on the sidelines enough, don’t think we can take any more.”

All Rooster did was raise his hand and flip Hangman off as you two continued to walk along the waterline.

“Bird from a bird.” It was the last muffled thing Hangman said, or the last audible one at least.

Now it was just the two of you, occasionally bumping shoulders as the water lightly brushed up your feet, rinsing sand off of them while simultaneously bringing more to them. Neither of you had said anything since he asked if you were ready to head out. Sounds of waves, seagulls, and cars were the only thing filling your ears. But your mind? Well that was filled with a lot. Questions mainly. In the short time you knew Bradley, asking him questions never felt as hard as it did in this moment so you spent the silent minutes passing convincing yourself to say it.

“What’s the deal with you two?”

“Hangman? We’ve been at each other’s necks since The Academy. Just your usual nice guy vs. dickhead story.” That usual smile was on his face as he joked but you knew it wouldn’t stay there long with what you were really looking for an answer for.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about Hangman.” You served the comment with a side of a smile, to let him know you weren’t trying to be rude. It was something you said to him the first night you met, and you still meant it.

It worked because he smirked from the side of his mouth before frowning and asking you what you meant then.

“Pete.”

It was one word. Four letters. But you would have thought you spoke a plethora of uncivilized and vulgar comments with how his face tightened, his jaw bones clenched, his chest tensed, all while his eyes did what yours did whenever you remembered anything surrounding the thought of losing your father–danced. They’d dance around looking for something to stare at, something to focus your energy on instead of the thought.

Without thinking, you moved your hand into his, intertwining your fingers and leaning your body into his. It could have backfired, you had been in this situation plenty of times where you didn’t want to be touched, the feelings of heavy memories weighing you down enough that you didn’t need the weight of anyone else on you. But you’d also had be in the situation where all you needed was someone to grab you, pull you out of the mess that was your mind. You’d hope that this was that sort of moment.

Rooster looked at you, something that he found extremely hard to do at that moment. It was always hard to look at someone when he was running through each thought about Maverick, about his father. The memories. And the thing was, they weren’t all bad, a lot of them were even good. But that was the thing, not only did those few bad ones sit a little more fresh and a little clearer than the good ones did– but the good ones almost felt like a reminder of them too. It’s why he’d always look away when someone mentioned it. Find his eyes searching around for something that would be on his side. Another reason it was so hard to be looking into your eyes right now, because he knew you would be on his side but your eyes also spoke forgiveness, the one things he was not ready for. But behind that, he saw someone who was just looking for answers to who he really was, which is what allowed him to open up, just a little bit.

“He pulled my papers at The Academy.”

You hated to follow it up with another question, but there wasn’t really room for any other words. “Why?”

There were those dancing eyes again. Why. That was the weighted question. One that was too much Bradley.

“You seemed to know him, with how you were talking with Penny and him earlier.” He didn’t let go of your hand, which was enough for you to know that while he didn’t want to answer your question, he wasn’t pushing you away either. Despite him not really asking you something specifically, you knew the information he was looking for.

“Pete knew my dad. They were stationed on the USS Ranger together back in the 90s.”

Rooster nodded at that, his jaw still clenched tightly again.

You stopped walking, your hands intertwined is what pulled Rooster’s focus back onto you as his body turned back to see what you had stopped for. His eyes were scanning you up and down for an answer, searching your body for an injury or your face for some information.

“I have to tell you something–well, want to tell you something.”

“What’s up?” His jaw had loosened, the look of concern now filling his face as he searched your eyes for any hint to what you meant.

You could have warmed him up to what you were going to say. Started out slow, explained the story in full, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Maybe it was because the story was hard to tell, with everything you knew now, the weight of all you knew before was heavier, harder to sift through.

“I’m adopted.”

His immediate reaction was on his face, a small twitch of his right cheek bone as his eyebrows moved together as the words processed in his brain.

“That’s–that feels like a big deal.”

Your lips curved slightly at that and your head barely moved in acknowledgement of it.

“I just mean–that I’m surprised I didn’t know before.” He wasn’t mad, at all. He was racking his brain around it.

Being adopted was something you recently felt sat differently with you than before. Now over the last few years as you grieved the loss of your dad, things just were different. There was a disconnect and you hated it. Hated to think of the detachment you felt. It started out as anger, searching for something that kept coming up short. You cried, a lot. Pushed people away. You remember when you showed up at your little brother’s doorstep out in Nevada, you didn’t call, hadn’t reached out in months, but you went there because he was the one that never pushed. Mickey called, alot. He was a problem solver. Griffin, he was an understander. You sobbed to him, told him what you thought, what you felt. How you didn’t feel like a Garcia anymore, you didn’t feel like you were able to keep your father close to you anymore. Then you buried all of it. Because it was too hard to revisit.

You sat down in the sand, tapping the spot next to you for him to join you. Obliging, he plopped down, his eyes still on you waiting for you to talk while you looked out at the horizon. There were only a few minutes left of golden hour, and you felt the same ticking clock against the words you wanted to share which is why after a large exhale, you spoke before you talked yourself out of it. “I was 5 when I got adopted. Don’t remember too much before that besides jumping from a couple shitty homes for a bit. But that’s never really been the hard part for me–it’s now.”

This was the most attention you had given these feelings in a while and suddenly it felt so easy to just let them out.

“I don’t feel as connected to the family anymore–my dad especially. These last few years have just been coasting along this fuckin’ numbness. Mickey– he has,” you pointed to the sky and towards the base, “this.” Shaking your head you continued, “he’s Admiral Garcia’s son, you know? He gets to keep him close with that. Honor him with that. My little brother, he’s Trainer Garcia’s son, got his own business out in Nevada training dogs. His love for it comes from everything my dad showed us.” Another head shake as you felt the tears starting to swell in your eyes you blinked a couple times and looked away, wiping them clean and free from your face paired with a couple muttered euphemisms as you tried to get out the hardest thought of all. “And me? I thought I had that. When he was alive, I felt so fucking connected. Not a single fucking doubt or anything you hear about kids who were adopted wondering about their biological parents or what their life could have been. I felt like I belonged. Like this was what was meant for me.” You swallowed and it tasted like salt water which meant the tears you wiped away before were letting loose on your face despite your previous efforts. “And then he died. And my whole fucking world crashed.” Those words were spoken at a higher octave as they rushed out in between a subtle cry. “I felt like I had nothing left of him here. Mickey had the Navy, Griffin had his business, and I had nothing.”

You took a minute to take a deep breath, wiping your tears away and pushing all that feeling back where it came from. Rooster looked like he wanted to swoop in and hold you, like he could take the reason for your tears and strangle them until there was no chance they could come back and haunt you. His eyes though, they looked knowing. Like he knew the profound impact losing someone so close to you could do, and that even though he’d never understand the exact burden you faced, he wished he could take all the pain away from you and keep it for himself instead.

Bradley was about to open his mouth to say something but in your effort of trying to mask it, you cut him off with a quick laugh. “I know I don’t have nothing, I’m not an idiot.” You smiled at that to let him know you weren’t completely woe is me right now. “I just mean, it’s why it’s hard coming around to writing this book. I’ve realized that I have this story–my story. And I don’t want it to be over.”

“And if you write it, it’ll be over.” Bradley began to fully grasp the big picture and the gravity of what you were saying. It was honestly the best thing he could have said at that moment. You didn’t want pity, condolences or sorrow, you wanted someone to simply get it.

“And when it’s over, I’ll be back in this limbo.” A mindless shrug came from your left shoulder because that was the end of it. The end of your unpacking.

“Will you, though?”

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe that’s where you always ended it. Feeling like you hit a wall when there was just a few more bricks to tear down before there was more to think about. Rooster questioning you wasn’t something you weren’t expecting. It was proof that you were still learning things about him.

“I hear you–totally hear you, but it doesn’t have to be this whole once you finish the story stops. If anything I think it gives it a place to live, it gives it this bigger purpose.”

Bigger purpose. Wasn’t that what you were looking for this whole time? Between this and what Penny said earlier, you felt like today opened up a whole different viewpoint for you.

It was then that you were looking at him with this look–a new one for both of you but especially Rooster. It was one he couldn’t read off the bat and was squinting as he tried to search for some hint.

“Who are you?” It was a joke, clearly you took his words to heart, opening your mind to new thoughts and perspectives. This was the second time in such a short time frame that Rooster managed to do this. He was standing up now, extending his hand out to you in an effort to help you up off the sand.

“Some call me Bradley.” He tossed his arm over your shoulder once you stood up, bringing you snugged into his embrace, “some call me Bradshaw,” now a quick kiss was being placed on the top of your head as you both started to walk again, “some Rooster,” a modest shrug came from his shoulders as he spoke his call sign, “but all who know me know I am a master of wisdom, an enlightened mind, some might even say philosophical guru.”

It was impossible not to laugh at his words, tucking your arm around his back as you cuddled in more to him, hearing his voice echo against his chest as he continued to boast about his grand sage.

The silence eventually grew back over the two of you and you could tell that Rooster’s mind was wandering. Something was still hanging in the air and both of you knew it, but one of you was ruminating on it while the other was letting it go. For one of you the sound of the waves was amplifying the words bouncing around the brain while for the other, it was washing away expectation. The seagulls calls were poking at one of you, begging to speak the words out while for the other, it was a patterned song that drowned out the noise.

You could tell that for Bradley, it was getting loud in his head because he spoke the words out so urgently.

“Pete knew my dad, too.”

Your neck snapped up to look at him. That clenched jaw was back and in action as he continued to talk to you, less urgently now and more just sorting through it all. You remembered when you told Rooster you wanted to know everything. How hard it was for him, and it ended up being what made you fall for him. He was this complex guy, who had been through things so similarly to you and was still figuring it out. So that’s what the two of you did as you walked along the California coast. He told you everything. About losing his mom, growing up without his dad, and then he told you about Maverick. Then the two of you just sat in those emotions that you both harbored for so long, and suddenly they didn’t feel so heavy for once. It felt simple. So simple.

Dividers by: @cafekitsune :3 🛫Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @writing-until-i-drop @jtheteenagewitch @meera10 @winchester-whiskey (let me know if you’d like to be added! I'm using my all writing taglist right now!)

CHAPTER INDEX <- where you can find previous chapters to this fic!

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #Top Gun Maverick Fanfiction #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw Fanfiction #My Writing #Garbinge

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year

Text

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 2 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary : You obsess over the cuddle you shared with loki then you both share a joint together.

Warning: Smoking, recreational drug use, heat, so much of heat, bodyshaming comments, Loki being a soft baby, reader is insecure about her body, reader's mom is critical about her whole life, CUDDLING

Note : Song I used in this chapter. Now I know it was released in 2019 buttt I am going to use it anyways and you guys are going to ignore it the way we are ignoring TVA's existence. It also poetic in a way because time may or may not be linear in this fic 👀 Listen to the song first if you haven't, it's bomb, it's my go to whenever I'm drunk.

"Sooooo what does it mean if a guy cuddles you but you're not in a relationship or ummm dating or uhhh anything really" you asked your coworker Lyla. She was one of the trainers at the gym you were working at currently.

"Why are you asking? Are you cuddling with someone?" She asked you excitedly and you gave her a smile.

"Me? Cuddling? A guy? No no..noo no. Just a friend.. asking for a friend who's doing the cuddling..the cuddler is doing her i mean..you know what I want to say" She gave you a weird look as you said that.

"Yeah I figured..I mean aren't you allergic to men?" She rolled her eyes

"I'm…not allergic to men alright" you raised your voice so a few clients looked at you, the guy who had asked you out four times already did as well so you lowered your voice down a little "I love men..love themm like my own brothers and fathers and I hate the men hating we see these days" she gave you a questioning look as you said that. "Yeahh alright alright..just tell me what it means" you crossed your arms.

"What means what?" Attention span of a frog

"Man. cuddling... Friend?"

"Ohh yeah, tell your friend that this guy might be into her. I mean men usually don't initiate that sort of intimacy unless they're really into someone especially if it comes even before the sex does" she told you.

"Oh definitely no sex" you chuckled "That's what she told me"

You woke up this morning and you were squished against his body, completely squished all into him. Somehow you managed to get out of his hold without waking him up, though you did manage to fall down on your ass. What were you thinking rolling away from the bed that's the size of a toddler's cot?

He was a deep sleeper though and you just wanted to leave the apartment before he'd wake up but of course you bumped into him as you came out of the bathroom. He just smiled his usual angelic smile and wished you a good day at work as if you two didn't spend the night all squished together.

"How's the diet going? You seem even more chubbier today" you snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Lyla. She was an YouTube fitness model so she always stayed in shape and you ? Well you had tried to become one but nobody cared about the educational content you were making. You didn't have a response for her, you had been eating a lot of junk these days so this was clearly on you.

As you reached home after a long day he was watching something on the tv so you looked at the screen. He had a dark green tunic on that was probably made from some Asgardian fabric, a black trouser underneath, hair still wet from the shower.

"Captain released a statement that he had an altercation with me after I escaped, he claimed that I had morphed into him and was trying to steal the scepter"

"Whattt?" You looked at him confused

"Exactly what I'm saying. What is he talking about? I was here, I did not pretend to be him, as if I'd ever want to morph myself into him" you shook your head in disbelief as he said that. His accent always got thicker when he was excited or agitated.

"Why not? He's hot" He gave you the typical I don't think so look as you said that. You didn't understand a thing he was saying though.

"Something is happening..I clearly smelled the cologne of two Anthony Starks and now there are two Captains" you walked towards him as he huffed in annoyance, you placed your one hand on his shoulder to comfort him then you fluffed his hair up.

"Ummm how about you stop watching news? Let's start with that alright?" You grabbed the remote from him and turned the tv off, probably shouldn't have taught him to use it in the first place. He raised his brows in response, the crinkled lines on his forehead made you smile.

"I'm going to shower then you can do my lasagna" he smiled as you said that but you just heard yourself too "I mean we can eat each other" you took a deep breath after that mortifying slip up. Again. The cuddle sesh has infected your brain with some sort of virus "We can do…dinner..for fucks say" you mumbled as you stormed towards the bathroom.

Once you came out, you put on a tshirt and a pair of trousers. You could feel his eyes on you and it made you nervous.

"Do you wanna smoke weed or something?" You questioned him so he nodded immediately "Wow didn't have to convince you at all huhhh?"

"Is it a recreational mind altering herb? We have such herbs in Asgard, but it makes one rather foolish when consumed for a prolonged period of time, very detrimental for health" he said proudly.

"Ohhh your behavior makes so much more sense now you know" you chuckled as you looked for it in your closet and he rolled his eyes in response, he enjoyed this back and forth bantering with you.

You had two joints, where did the other one go? You made a mental note to look for it later because right now you just needed a moment of relaxation and distraction from that cuddling sesh you couldn't stop thinking about.

You came back to him and he looked at you curiously as you placed the end of the joint between your lips and lighted it up. The smell of the weed reached his sense, making him squint his eyes. Gah-dorable.

"Let's do it on the bed" you were saying all the wrong things today. You got off the couch and quickly hopped towards the bed. Oh he wanted to do it on the bed too, preferably the smaller one but he knew you didn't mean doing you exactly.

"So we can finally burn it down for good?" He retorted and you turned to look at him, feigning a hurt look on your face.

"It's my baby..how dare you?" he raised both of his hands up and took a step back "Because of the window..i don't want the smell to reach Mrs Geller" you said as you opened the window behind your bed "Okay the apartment in the front is still tenant-less..yayyy" you took a few hits and finally passed it to him. You didn't think he'd be able to smoke it because he just seemed so posh and regal and princely and you didn't think he had ever smoked anything in his life but turned out he was a pro.

You were already starting to feel the effect of it and you wondered if he did too? Passing the joint back and forth only made you hyperfocus on his lips. The lips that you wanted on--

"It is strong, though I never envisioned a lady like you to be into such a poisonous thing"

"It's just..grass " you said to him so he smiled, he was lying on the bed front side down, keeping himself all propped up on his elbows while you stayed seated with your back against the headboard "A grass that makes you feel floaty and drowsy.. besides I do it occasionally" That was probably a lie.

In order to avoid his intense gaze and that stupid smile on his face you decided to play music on your phone. Ofcourse you had to choose a song that screamed sexy.

Baby you can, ride it oh yeah..bring it over to my place

He put his hand forward so you passed the weed to him, he laid down on the bed as he took a puff. Did he actually want to burn the bed? You watched the smoke going up before it disappeared into the air.

And you be like

"Baby, who cares?"

But I know you care

Bring it over to my place

"Careful with the ashes" you said to him as you could see that it was about to fall right on his face. He suddenly clicked his fingers and you watched the particles of ashes beginning to drift in the air, as if that wasn't enough he made them light up again with his sorcery, it looked beautiful, reminded you of fireflies. You couldn't help but smile as you crawled on your knees to have a closer look, he sat up and watched that look on your face that he had come to adore so much.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"Beautiful" you giggled as you tried to touch one of them.

"Isn't it?" He said so you looked at him. Always with the intense gaze.

I can make it hurricane on it

Hunnid bands, make it rain on it

Tie it up, put a chain on it

Make you tattoo my name on it,

You looked at him and his intoxicated eyes made you want to hide, this wasn't real right? You were just too high and romanticizing things. Yup

You took the joint away from him and he sat up, you were still holding it between your fingers when he grabbed your wrist and twisted it towards him. Placing the joint around his lips he took a longer drag and when he let it out it hung in the air as if he had made the time halt somehow, he waved his fingers around and you saw the smoke turning into the foggy portrait of a woman. It was a portrait of you.

It made your eyes well up with emotions that you felt were indescribable.

Make you cry like a baby, yeah

Let's GoPro and make a video

Shut the fuck up brown.

"I'm speechless"

"At last..Thank the norns" you gasped as he said that, you picked up a pillow and hit him a bunch of times but he wasn't even defending himself. He was just giving you that killer smile with every attack.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"This was the best thing ever or what?" you huffed in excitement as you got off the bed.

"It is" he mumbled in his mouth as he watched the distance grow between you two. You were hungry now but he couldn't stop staring at you.

I don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

The lyrics spoke to him, he had never felt such a yearning before, what were you doing to him? Whenever he wanted a sexual release he found it with an equally willing partner, but it was never filled with such palpable tension, he knew he didn't crave just sex from you. He was enchanted by you and he didn't know why. You were just a mortal, he have had his moments where he used to look down upon your kind once.

He still wanted to look down but only when you'd be on your knees in front of him with his co—

"Come here" you yelled from the kitchen space so he pressed a stop button on the filth that were starting to corrupt his head.

"Turn up the music ..I need it in my life yeahhh" you sang along and danced on your spot as you reheated the lasagna you had made. He made his way into the kitchen and leaned himself against the refrigerator as he watched you be goofy. You did funny over the top steps to make him laugh and your eyes teared up again as he threw his head back while laughing. Why were you getting so freaking emotional over him for doing such a normal thing? He was just another run of the mill alien god.

Wait what?

You both sat down to eat finally but you couldn't stop giggling, your phone has been continuously ringing so you picked it up.

"Hey mommm…mummmyy" you mumbled, her voice sounded unclear and then you noticed how you were holding the phone upside down.

"Are you drunk?" She asked you.

"Nooooooooo..what?" You were zoning out alot so you just hummed to whatever she was saying. You did remember that she would visit the day after tomorrow and you did feel worried about it especially with a certain god slash alien in your apartment but you figured you'd think about it tomorrow. As she hung up you relaxed again.

"Remind me to diet again from tomorrow, goddd she's sooo going to comment on it" you mumbled so he looked up from the book he was reading. It definitely wasn't from this planet.

"About what?"

"Me being fat"

"You're not fat"

"And you're the king of England" he tilted his head at the comment "Oh I thought we were playing that game where we had to tell each other lies"

He sighed as you said that.

"I would never lie to you" he said sincerely. He didn't appreciate how you felt so critical about your physicality. He understood it because he wasn't any better but he still abhorred that you felt this way about yourself.

"I'm not kidding, okay? The other day we were making this video at the gym where the male trainers were supposed to lift the female employees and this guy couldn't lift me because I have gotten so heavier than before" you blabbed as you put down the plate of lasagna after eating.

"Did you perhaps ponder over the fact that this male worker of yours is too frail to carry a woman?" He asked you

"Yeah righttt" you chuckled so he put his book down and got up, in a matter of seconds you were in his arms, didn't even have a chance to react.

"See?"

"Ohh shush..I'm sure you're strong enough to carry a rhinoceros"

"So this rhinoceros must be a small and dainty little creature from your planet i assume. Much Like a Cat?" You chuckled as he said that. As he put you down finally, you both brushed your teeths, separately. And then he conjured that princely bed for you. None of you were going to mention the cuddling right? Okay.

"I'm going to sleep on my bed tonight, okay? You take this" you laid down on your bed before he could protest or get an opportunity to manipulate you with his sad scrunchy brows.

The lights turned off but you couldn't fall asleep, how could you when you were thinking about him constantly? You had your back turned against him and that's why you didn't see it when he stepped down from his bed.

"It's strenuous for me to fall asleep on that bed, my body is habituated to this one" you heard his voice so you turned slightly to look at him staring at you, he looked giant from this angle.

"I'm not moving" you huffed and turned on your side again.

Your eyes widened as you felt the mattress dipping because of his weight.

"It is definitely acceptable for me" you gasped as you heard his voice behind you, you could feel his body next to you.

"What are you doing?" you turned to look at him so he placed his large hand on your cheek and shushed you up by placing his thumb on your lips. How dare he?

"Shhhhhh..now sleep" you were going to say something but his thumb went past your lips so your pulled your head back in order to slip the digit out of your mouth. He only chuckled in response.

"You're being inappropriate"

"Am I?" He responded as he scooted even closer and just like yesterday his arm went around your waist but before that he made sure to hook your leg over his own, he pulled you closer to his body and your breath quickened again. You can't handle such close proximity, it made you want to do bad things to him and with him. The bubbling scorching heat. Noooooooo

"Sleep well" he whispered as he placed his head over your breasts again, would he be able to feel your nipples getting erect? You'd die with embarrassment if he could. The vibrations you felt from his words went straight to your nether region.

"Can I lower the temperature?" He questioned you.

"What?"

"The temperature. May I please lower it down a notch?" Oh now he wanted to be polite?

"Yeahhh?"

The heat usually bothered him but he didn't do it for the heat this time, he just wanted you to submerge into him. He wanted you to be so close to him because he really did enjoy sleeping in your arms last night. It felt safe.

As it got colder you sneaked your arm under his head just like you did yesterday and he couldn't have been happier.

"This is better" his voice came out all whispery and it made you bite on your lips, you were so close to moaning his name or something at the least "Are you uncomfortable darling?" You gulped as he questioned. You have never been more comfortable in life but you weren't going to tell him that.

"Noooo"

"I know"

The audacity

He raised his thigh up a little and now his hard muscle was snuggled perfectly between your crotch. One flex and you'd probably burst into an orgasm. God you felt nasty, maybe his thoughts were pure unlike yours and he just wanted to cuddle.

Your other arm rested on your own body in an awkward manner so he brought his hand up and interlinked his fingers with yours. In what world was this an appropriate relationship between two friends slash roommates slash alien- human buddies? Maybe in Asgard it was.

Or maybe just maybe he was as touch starved for affection and these physical touches as you were.

Once your hormones relaxed, you were able to fall asleep, it wasn't that hard actually when you were holding onto this giant soft comfy teddy bear in your arms.

However you woke up to your door buzzing incessantly.

"Y/n? Y/n??" And you heard your mom's voice. Oh god.

"Get up get up get up" you tapped your hand on his chest and he smiled as he looked at your puffy little face before you yelled at him again.

"My mom is here..get upp" you said to him as you jumped off the bed and started to grab his clothes and other things he had scattered all over the place.

"You said she'd come tomorrow..as in tomorrow?"

"I know I don't know.. go hide in the bathroom or something please" you whispered to him. You didn't want her to think you had started to talk to yourself now.

"I can just make myself invisible"

"Whattttt?" Your voice got higher but you didn't have time to dwell into it at the moment.

He clicked his fingers and then he disappeared in the shimmery waves, took you a second to process it.

"I'm still here, you just can't see me" you took a deep breath as you heard his voice.

"Oh okay okay..stay quiet" you looked at him or at the spot he was before he disappeared.

"I'm next to you" you jumped on your spot as he spoke again.

You quickly made your way to the door and you were met with your mom's angry looking face.

"Hiiii..hey what are you doing here..you're..24 hours early" you hugged her and she looked at you confused.

"No honey. I told you yesterday that I'd come tomorrow"

"No you said you'd be here the day after tomorrow"

"No I said yesterday that I called you yesterday and you didn't pick up. I wanted to tell you that day that I'd be here the day after tomorrow" you looked at her confused as her words fried whatever working brain cells you somehow still had in your skull.

"Why it's so cold in here? Are you trying to freeze yourself" she shivered and rubbed her arms with her palms.

"Sorry..ummm how did you..who buzzed you in?"

"Ohhh i met your neighbor downstairs, Mrs Geller, what a nice lady, we had a cup of coffee" she said to you so you nodded. She looked around the house in disapproval. Well you were going to clean it today. You wondered where Loki was at the moment.

"Sooo how come you are here" she took a whiff, ignoring your question altogether.

"Is a man living here?" You burst out laughing as she said that..

"You're funny..so funny ..funny funny mom" she glared at you as you cackled like a witch "Why would you say that?"

She walked towards the sofa and grabbed the book Loki had left last night and it made you grit your teeth so harshly you feared they'd break.

"Since when do you read?"

"I uhhh mom –" she looked at you with and her eyes got teary with plenty of emotions.

"Ohhhh I'm so happy for you…finally you managed to keep a man? Oh Mrs Geller was right you're seeing someone" she hugged you tightly. Mrs. Geller needed to shut up one of these days.

"Mom–"

"Ohh by the way everyone is in Minesotta and I didn't bring them here because I knew your house would…look like thissss" she made a face as she looked around before she turned to you again "So we'll be here in the evening, just prepare a simple dinner okay?" She told you excitedly.

"By everyone you mean your boyfriend and his daughters that I love so much?" You gave her a tight lipped smile and she glared at you. The sarcasm definitely didn't sit right with her. It never did.

"He's my husband now.. it's been months, don't be disrespectful..okay I have to go..I'll see you in evening" you nodded as she said that. "Oh and bring that guy over, I'd like to meet him"

"Mom I just met him like two days ago" you lied to her so she thought about it.

"Doesn't matter..Just invite him for dinner"

As she left you put your head down on the door and sighed deeply.

You looked at Loki as he reappeared, he had a sympathetic look on his face. Fake boyfriend trope? Were you about to go through another rom com cliche?

Serves you right.

Now you couldn't wait for the dinner so the only decent friend you had in life could witness your humiliation by the hands of your step father, his perfect daughters and your own mother.

🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

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mayflysdie · 6 months

Text

Familiar contact- A John price fic.

Random inspo I had, but hopefully people enjoy it. I stayed up till 7am writing it lol. Might make something out of this but I idk yet.

I have attention span issues so if it veer off, please don’t come at me for it. I’ve skimmed over it, but there’s probably some things I missed and grammatical mistakes. Thank you❤️

Word count: 3k+

MDNI- mature themes, language, choking, supernatural beings, dark themes.

I told myself to be home by midnight, before the hunting hour started. To lock myself safely in my home, surrounded by wards.

Sigils adorned the doors and windows, passed down from generation to generation by witches determined to protect their dwellings.

The eerie stillness of the night was broken by distant howls and screams, while sinister whispers lured unsuspecting victims into their grasp. These cunning creatures preyed upon human greed, offering promises of fulfilling desires before revealing their true, malevolent nature through blood-red eyes hidden within the shadows.

"I'll give you everything you desire"

" You will desire nothing else, if you come closer"

I pay no heed to their twisted tongues, for I know the moment I look their way, or so much as utter a word, I'll be trapped in their soulless hell. Become a mindless creature like them, existing only to feed on souls until the earth turns to dust.

And I refuse to become one.

I pull my coat tighter around me, trying to shield myself from the biting chill. But it seems to seep through every layer, penetrating deep into my bones. Come to us.

The gusts seem to have a life of their own, swirling and dancing around me, almost taunting me with their strength. As I trudge through the forest, trees now look twisted and tortured under the relentless assault of the wind. Nothing on this earth is truly safe from their wicked powers.

Their branches whip back and forth, creaking as if in pain. Some of them have already succumbed, their broken limbs littering the ground like casualties of war. Despite the fierce resistance of the trees, the wind shows no signs of letting up. It blows with such force that I struggle to keep my balance, stumbling over rocks and roots that are hidden beneath a carpet of leaves. My hair is wild and tangled, whipped into a frenzy by the wind's powerful grasp.

As I stand in the midst of this chaotic scene, I can feel the energy of the whispers pulsating through the air. They seem to be growing more desperate by the second, their voices becoming more urgent and insistent. These phantom entities, longing for control over my soul, reach out towards me with ethereal hands that pass right through my body.

But I refuse to acknowledge them, refusing to give them the power they so desperately crave. Meanwhile, the trees around me struggle against the relentless force of the wind. Some bend and sway gracefully, while others are unable to withstand the intense pressure and break, crashing to the ground with a loud thunderous sound. My heart aches at the sight of these ancient trees, some of them hundreds of years old. Despite surviving in such a harsh environment, they stood tall and thrived, only to be struck down by the dark forces of hell. Life is truly, cruel.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My small home, tucked away in the dense forest, comes into view. Smoke curls out of the chimney and warm light spills through the windows, creating a comforting glow. Thick moss clings to the weathered stone walls, leading up to the old black roof. A protective barrier of sturdy stone surrounds my home, making it feel like a fortress. My pace quickens as I approach, eager to escape the eerie whispers and relentless winds that seem to follow me. But as I near my house, all sounds of nature cease and an ominous silence settles over the land. My steps falter as my eyes narrow, scanning for any signs of danger.

Suddenly, a swirling mist materializes to my right, coalescing into the form of a tall, muscular man. Curled horns protrude from his head and his bright red eyes lock onto mine with malicious intent. My heart races as I realize he is a demon - not just any demon, but one of great power and influence. I recognize him from my extensive research on the seven gates of hell - standing before me is none other than John Price himself, ruler and master of all seven gates.

In a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, he sneers at me with a wicked grin. "Well hello there, little witch," he says mockingly as he takes slow steps towards me. Fear courses through my body like ice water. Why does his voice sound so familiar? That nickname….

“ John” I say, somehow holding my voice steady despite the tremble in my body. my hands twitch at my sides, ready to defend myself. “ what do you want?” I hiss. but he just smiles even wider, tilting his head at me.

“ Can’t I visit a lonely little witch? whom lives by herself in the forest”. He steps closer.

“ no, you cannot. I have no business with you, demon”

A sharp gasp escapes my lips as he materializes in front of me. He leans down, bringing us eye-to-eye, his intense gaze locking with mine. The scent of smoke and fresh pine fills my nostrils, mingling together in an intoxicating combination. His long fingers, slender yet strong, grasp my chin firmly yet gently, his thumb lightly caressing my cheek. His touch, it feels familiar too. But why?

“ Been watching you, darling. A nasty little witch you are” His breath fans my face, our close proximity jolting my senses back into place.

I grit my teeth, taking another cautious step back as his hands fall from my face. His amusement is evident in the glittering mischief in his eyes and the sly curve of his lips. I feel a surge of electricity tingling at my fingertips, slowly spreading up my arm until bolts of raw energy flicker and dance beneath my skin. With a few whispered chants, I channel the power and unleash a dazzling bolt of lightning towards him. The air crackles with anticipation as the bright beam strikes the earth where he stands, sending up a cloud of dust in its wake. The ground trembles beneath me, humming with residual energy.

my eyes narrow as the dust fades away, and there he stands. a cloud of mist surrounding him in a protective barrier. This grimy little bitch.

“ Now darling, that wasn’t very nice”

“ Oh really? thought i’d give you a proper welcome” I sneer, my fingers twitching again. my mind reeling for a plan. My grandmother never said anything about defending myself against the king of hell. What the hell am I supposed to do.

The mist around him disappears into the earth. He crosses his arms.

" Well you could do me" he retorts and I frown. Get out of my head!

I send another bolt his way, and he deflects it with a flick of his wrist. John's laughter echoes through the forest, sending shivers down my spine.

" What do you want John. I haven't broken any laws, nor did I summon you".

His eyes gleam with amusement as he takes a leisurely stroll around me, his steps echoing in the unnatural silence that surrounds us.

"I do love a feisty one," he muses, his voice smooth like silk yet carrying an underlying edge of danger. "But I'm not here for your misdeeds, dear witch. No, I am here for something far more intriguing."

My heart pounds in my chest as I try to maintain a façade of calmness, even as his presence threatens to overwhelm me. "Then what is it that you seek from me, demon?" I demand, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind.

John Price's smile widens, revealing a row of perfectly straight and gleaming white teeth that seem to glint in the dim light. As he approaches me, his footsteps fall with an air of confidence and authority. He stops in front of me, tilting his head to reveal the sharp angles of his jawline beneath his beard, and the way the moonlight catches in his dark hair.

"I have come to claim you, little witch," he purrs, his voice low and smooth like velvet. I can feel his warm breath on my skin as he speaks.

"Claim me? What the fuck are you talking about?" I snap back, my anger boiling over at his bold words.

"Your coven, centuries ago, promised me a bride if I granted them power," he explains, his eyes never leaving mine. "Twenty generations from then, a woman will be born with powers stronger than any witches before her. And only she will be worthy of becoming my bride." A knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as he finishes his declaration.

And if I could've sent every last bit of my powers away, I would have on spot. Simply bag them and ship them off to the next person.

The earth trembles beneath my feet, my anger coursing through me like molten lava. My eyes blaze with a fiery red intensity as I bring my hand up to meet his chest. The wind responds to my rage and strengthens, pushing him back with a forceful gust. He stumbles several feet before landing gracefully on his feet, a smug smirk plastered across his face. I grit my teeth, wishing desperately to wipe that lecherous expression off of his creepy features. "My, my," he purrs, "those eyes are like untamed flames."

He watches me with a mixture of amusement and fascination as I confront him with a strength that surprises even myself. The air crackles with tension as we stand facing each other, a silent battle of wills raging between us. I can feel the power coursing through my veins, a primal energy that demands release.

With a fierce determination, I raise my hands towards the sky, calling upon the elements to aid me in this dire moment. The wind howls in response, whipping my hair around my face like a dark shroud. The trees sway in a wild dance, their leaves rustling in a chorus of support.

John Price's eyes widen with recognition as he senses the ancient magic surging around me. In a swift motion, he raises his own hands, summoning shadows that twist and coil at his command. Darkness engulfs him as he prepares to strike back with his formidable powers. No, he’d never hurt me. But how do I know that?

Emotions wage a war inside me.

But I am ready for him. With a primal scream that echoes through the forest.

With a fierce cry, I unleash a bolt of lightning so powerful that it reverberates through the earth, leaving my body trembling with its force. The smell of ozone fills the air as electricity crackles around us, sending shockwaves into the ground and trees. And then suddenly, I am flying backwards, my back slamming against a rough bark of a tree. The impact knocks all the air from my lungs and I land on all fours, gasping for breath.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, I see John lying on the ground, his body smoking from the electric blast. Despite my own discomfort, anger surges within me. I grit my teeth as I struggle to stand, my muscles protesting from the jarring impact. God that hurts like a bitch.

But even as I rise, determined to keep fighting, I hear him chuckling. It is a sinister sound that sends shivers down my spine. My eyes narrow as I face him, ready to take him down. As if I could, I know I’m not strong enough.

"That's what I need," he groans as he stands, brushing off his clothes with an air of nonchalance. His red eyes have returned to their normal state, but they seem even darker now - like staring into a void.

"You want more?" I growl, raising my hands to strike again. But he raises his own in a mocking surrender. "I don't wish to fight you, little witch," he says with a sly smile. "A man should never harm a woman."

His words are like a slap in the face to me. This man is supposed to be the king of Hell, yet he claims to be against hitting women? I scoff in disbelief.

"Oh please," I retort. "Don't expect me to believe that for a second."

He shrugs as if it doesn't matter to him one way or another. And then suddenly, mist begins to form around my feet and up over my body. It spreads like a thick fog, rendering me immobile. Panic sets in as I struggle to break free.

"Let me go!" I shout, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to force myself out of the misty grip. But it seems to have a will of its own, keeping me firmly in place.

" I can't do that, love". He appears behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hiss at the contact, his touch sending jolts through my skin.

“Now sleep, my love” He whispers. and I curse myself, as my eyes start to grow heavy. “w-what”.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am jolted into consciousness, my body drenched in a cold sweat. My mind pulsates with a throbbing ache, as if being relentlessly pounded by a massive block of stone. With wide eyes, I frantically scan my unfamiliar surroundings.

It is then that I notice John seated in the corner of the room, engrossed in a book. His calm demeanor reveals no trace of concern or surprise, almost as if abducting people is just another routine task for him.

The audacity of this man! I want to strangle him.

"Where the hell have you taken me?" I shout at him, but he simply ignores me. Fine, if we're playing games now.

I curl my index finger and softly whisper a few words. Suddenly, his chair bursts into flames, scorching his backside. He springs up from his seat, dropping his book and grabbing his now charred rear end. As he curses and flails about, I smirk at him.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" I mock with a smug tone.

The fiery gaze of John meets my own as he casually pats his still-smoking ass. My questioning eyes shift to the discarded book on the ground, my raised eyebrow expressing confusion. "A cook book? Is that truly your book of choice?" I prod. He responds with an eye roll, snatching the book from the floor in annoyance.

Maybe I'm unhinged for being so casual at the moment, but my head hurts too much to really care. I'll unpack this after ibuprofen.

“You insufferable woman, you ruined my favorite armchair,” John seethes, pointing to the charred remains. I roll my eyes, unimpressed by his dramatics. You just kidnapped a witch and you're over here fretting over a chair.

“Take me back home,” I demand, standing my ground.

“No,” he replies firmly, a hint of anger in his voice. What is wrong with this man?

“Yes, I refuse to be your unwilling wife,” I argue, climbing out of bed and trailing after him as he storms into his closet. He pulls out a pair of unburned pants.

“You don’t have a say in this matter,” he declares. I cross my arms in defiance, scoffing at his arrogance.

“Because forcefully taking a wife against her will always make for a happy marriage,” I retort sarcastically.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment when he casually removes his burnt pants, standing only in his undergarments. "Jesus!" I exclaim, quickly turning around to face the wall. He chuckles behind me, clearly amused by my discomfort. " Jesus is not here, darling"

oh fuck right off.

I hear the sound of a zipper, followed by his footsteps approaching. I turn around, bumping my nose into his chest. not expecting him to stand so close. “ the hell” I mumble, rubbing my nose.

“ let me see this contract my coven signed. there’s got to be a loophole. I mean, why me? there’s other witches out there”.

I follow him out of the closet. He spins around, pushing me against the wall. I narrow my eyes, lifting a finger to zap his ass when he slowly pushes my finger down. as if I just showed him an ugly photo.

he then places both his hands on either side of my head. “ be a good girl and hush, yeah?”.

his low husky voice sends a shiver down my spine. fuck me, what’s wrong with me.

“ You be a good boy and release me, yeah?” I mock, smiling.

his hand slithers up to my throat, grabbing it tightly. he growls, I feel the rumble in his chest against mine.

"You wouldn't dare," I gasp, struggling to breathe as his grip tightens around my neck. The fear in my eyes is unmistakable, a raw and primal emotion that courses through my veins like poisoned venom.

"Try me," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. I can see the darkness within him, the deep-seated hatred and anger that has been simmering inside him for centuries. So much for not harming women, huh? bipolar asshole.

And then, without warning, he lets go of my throat. There's a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that washes over me as he steps back. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes firmly fixed on me.

" All I want is for you to accept your fate and become my wife. I want no one else but you" His voice is calm, almost soothing, but there's an underlying edge to it.

His words prick at something in my brain, erupting pain through my skull.

I glare fiercely at him, mustering all my hate into my eyes. As if that alone could poof him into dust. " Fuck you, you crazy bipolar demon"

He shakes his head, walking away from me. leaving me standing against the wall, mind reeling and grasping for any ration response.

I mean, not even ten hours ago I was freely walking through the forest on my own, collecting herbs. And now, I'm stuck god knows where with a demon who claims I'm his bride.

But why does it feel like I know him?

My head pounds, sharp pain piercing my temples. I cry out, grabbing the sides of my head as I crouch down. Whispers ringing in my ears, the voices of my mother and grandmother.

As fragmented images race through my thoughts, I am transported back in time. Current reality intertwines with hazy flashbacks, creating a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. In one vivid recollection, I am young and standing in my mother's bedroom. Her screams echo off the walls as she fiercely argues with my grandmother.

Tears stream down her cheeks, "I will take her away, far from his reach." With a forceful shove, she pushes my grandmother out of the way and storms into the closet. Mom, why are you crying.

Overwhelmed by the intense scene before me, I tremble and cry silently. Despite my limited understanding at the time, I know that something is gravely amiss, and it involves me. "There's not a place in heaven or hell where he won't find her, Eylean. Our ancestors made the deal, and there's nothing we can do to stop it" My grandmother argues, chasing after my mother.

Come outside, sweetheart. A voice whispers in my head, gentle and comforting. Come to me.

I do as the voice says, running out of my mothers room. My little legs struggling to keep up with the fast pace, threatening to misstep. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran, adrenaline driving me forward. The sound of the back door slamming echoed in my ears, a reminder of the argument that had just taken place, the booming voices inside. Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled towards the stone fence, desperate to get away from the chaos inside.

Why, why me?

With trembling hands, I gripped onto the rough edges of the stones and pulled myself up and over the fence. My clothes snagged against the sharp edges, leaving small tears and scrapes on my skin. But I don't care. All I want is to reach my safe haven. As I reached the other side, my feet hit the soft grass and I took off running again. The cool air brushed against my tear-stained cheeks as I made my way towards the massive red oak tree. It stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards the sky as if welcoming me with open arms. With shaky breaths, I collapsed against the trunk of the tree. The vines that twisted around it provided a sense of comfort, almost like they were hugging me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my face in my legs, letting out loud sobs as I tried to calm my racing thoughts and emotions.

The wind started to howl, the force of it whipping through my hair and stinging my cheeks. I could feel tears sliding down my face as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The wind calmed, replaced by the sudden cold chill in my bones. Raising my head slowly, I glanced around through my blurry vision. Through the mist that had settled in front of me, I saw a figure emerge. It was a man, his large build crouching down in front of me. As he placed a comforting hand on my knee, I caught a glimpse of his bright blue eyes. They were like pools of clear water, sparkling and drawing me in.

Despite my fear and confusion, I couldn't help but gaze into them, feeling strangely captivated. A small smile tugged at the corners of the man's mouth, as if he were trying his best to offer comfort. His voice, deep and soothing, was one that I recognized from earlier. The sound of his accent brought a slight sense of familiarity. He spoke softly, reassuring me, "It's okay sweetheart. You're safe here." But I couldn't stop the sobs that wracked my body, my mind still reeling from the events that had just unfolded. "But they're fighting," I hiccupped, shaking my head. "Mommy says a bad man is going to get me." My words came out barely audible through my tears, but the man seemed to understand.

He moves to sit down beside me, our body’s brushing against each other.

“ I’m already here, little witch”

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #captain john price #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price #john price x you #captain johnathan price #captain price #captain price x female reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #price call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty monster #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare ii

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solarmidnight · 9 months

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Chreon Fic Rec List!

As promised, here is my Chreon fic rec list. Please leave a comment and kudos to show these authors some love!

If you are a fanfic author and find your fic on this list and you'd like it removed, please message me and I will remove it immediately.

Please make sure to read the tags for each fic for warnings/triggers.

Be My Remedy by tirsynni (8K)

When Leon agrees to do a favor for Chris, he should have expected everything to go to hell. At least this time he isn't alone when the mission is done.

Persona Non Grata by Yuu_chi (26k)

A no strings attached arrangement with the love of your life seems like a good idea right up until you realize he's in love with somebody else.

you don't fare well without me by realpoutydadsurvives (23k)

Leon shuddered a breath out of his frozen lungs and asked numbly, “Why do you hate me?” There was a quiet more invasive than the deadly silence of the world beyond the walls protecting them and Leon hated himself for being so stupid— stupid fucking Kennedy saying shit he wasn’t supposed to say— fumbling for a way to cover up his fuck up, when Chris’s low voice broke the silence, saying, “I don’t hate you, Leon. I never have.” “Liar,” Leon accused softly into the darkness of their warm refuge. “You’re a f-fucking liar.”

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) by fonulyn (note: past relationship Piers/Leon) (34k)

In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. “Leon, I…” Chris started, suddenly forgetting every single word he’d prepared. “Piers. He…” he trailed off, and risked a glance at Leon, who was standing there like a statue. It was like he wasn’t even breathing, with the way he was staring at Chris. “He saved my life. He saved Sherry. And he saved Jake. Hell, he probably saved the whole world, but he—” “Don’t.” - Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway.

Chris by Any Other Name by leftid (30k)

“Christopher Adam Redfield,” the rookie said, admonishingly. “You clean up your mess this instant.” “Who?” was Chris’ reply. ———————— Leon Scott Kennedy takes pity on Christopher ‘No-Middle-Name’ Redfield, and spends the next several years they know each other trying to find one. Technically it’s a series of 26 drabbles spanning from RE1 to RE8. A small line of plot managed to sneak into this episodic series.

Cocksucker by r3zuri (note: also features Krauser/Leon) (12k)

When Leon is ten, he tells his parents that girls are gross and he’s never getting married. They tell him he’ll change his mind when he’s older.

Collide by NovelNormandy (8k)

“Oops,” Chris says and Leon huffs a surprised laugh, now using his grip on Chris’s arm and the back of his neck to help hold his weight. “Sorry.” Leon shrugs, looking back at him. “It’s from IKEA.” “So what do I owe you, like 38 bucks?” Leon adjusts his hold on Chris, wrapping his legs firmly around the other man’s hips. “Can think of another way you can get me back.”

Welcome Back by nanaa127 (5k)

After an extended mission, Leon unexpectedly shows up at a conference Chris is attending. Chris is happy to see him. Very, very happy.

New Rookie by leonsknife (6K)

There's a new rookie at the R.P.D. and he's caught Chris' attention.

who am i after tasting you? by chthonicheart (38K)

“I fear the entire floor might have heard us last night,” Chris starts. Leon’s ears start ringing. What? “Yeah, I know. The server told me to tell you he gives us his ‘sincerest congratulations.’” “Christ,” Leon mutters, mostly to himself. “If only this complimentary breakfast came with complimentary mimosas.”

One Tomorrow at a Time by Requiem (37K)

During the fight with Arias, Leon gets infected and turns into a B.O.W. Chris is not giving up on him that easily.

as i drown in irresistible love by FireandLightning (5K)

It's a late night at the BSAA offices when Chris receives a text from Leon containing a photo of Leon himself next to... Chris can get very, very jealous of people flirting with Leon sometimes. Leon knows just how to turn that jealousy to his advantage, especially for when he wants to get literally demolished and punished suitably by Chris Redfield.

#resident evil #chreon #leon kennedy #chris redfield #chris x leon #chreon recs #fic recs

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wanderingblindly · 5 months

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How did you learn to write so beautifully? Do you have any advice for people who are just getting into it? (You should genuinely write a book, it is crazy how good your works are!!!)

Oh god this may have been the most amazing ask to wake up to, I’m teary eyed 😭😭 I wish I had the attention span, patience, skill, or ideas for a novel, but I’m truly honored nonetheless 😭💖

In the realm of just general creative writing, this is some of the stuff I’ve said to my friends when they wanna start!!!!!

1. Start Small

It’s pretty easy to come up with some massive concept, or some grand universe you wanna write a million words about. And if that works for you as a first project:fuck it up; but I think building your creative muscle can be pretty overwhelming, so starting really small can eliminate some of that… anxiety? Decision paralysis?

If you have an idea, break it down into one specific scene. When you write that scene, don’t feel like you have to include everything! You can allude to character history, relationships, personalities, etc.. Just focus on plopping yourself into that specific scene, that specific moment, and build from there. Who’s talking to who? What can we, the author, imply based on the way they talk to each other, how closely they’re sitting/standing to one another, where they’re located?

2. Show Don’t Tell (but Balance it Out)

Obviously this is so basic, and most people have heard it since they were little. But sometimes, I’ve found, classic phrases you “should know” were never actually explained lol.

When you have an idea for a character trait, don’t just stop there; don’t just say “he’s happy” or “his love language is time spent together”. Ask yourself “if that’s true, what would it look like to someone?”.

As a personal example, in one of my recent drabbles (Late Nights), I wanted to convey that Oscar is someone who really prioritizes a sense of closeness, and feels most comfortable with the people he loves. Do to this, I had some base level “telling”, where Lando informed the reader that Oscar’s pretty strict about his evening routine — which established stakes for him showing up late at night. I followed this up by “showing” Oscar breaking that routine to take care of Lando — and promptly falling asleep after doing so. This lets the reader see that Oscar might feel most at home, most comfortable, with his person rather than in his home, alone. If that makes sense hahahahah

3. Let Yourself be Cliche

Just start writing!!! Pick your favorite trope, set a very small word count, and write a scene! Who cares if someone’s written it before, and who cares if someone’s “”””””””written it better”””””””!!!! It’s a free hobby!!!!! Do it!!!!! It’s yours!!!!!!

What’s important is that you’re writing it in your voice, or at least some evolution of your voice. Write what makes you happy and excited, not what you think people want to read. It’s easier to find your tone when you’re exploring an idea you actually like :)

4. Disrespect English (I Hate That Bitch)

Uhhh this is probably the most related to my personal writing and least… generally applicable. But I think part of what makes writing fun is that you get to hear the author, both how they think (or their character’s think) and how they talk.

I abuse the fuck out of the English language — I use dashes everywhere and for some reason always give lists in triplicates. But that’s also just!!! How I talk!!!! I talk with a lot of emphatic sentences and repetition. I talk with a lot of lists and flailing hand gestures.

I don’t think the quirks of how we speak are things we need to beat out of ourselves to write something “correct”. When it comes to creative writing, it stems from the lens through which you view the world — which includes how you personally talk!!! Think!!!!

To this end, read your fics out loud. Does it roll off the tongue? I like when it does :)

5. Consider the Other Senses

Sometimes I slip into the very “he did this. Then he did this. And then he, in response, did that.” vibe.

When I fall into that on accident, I force myself to take a step back and ask myself some questions. What is he feeling about it? Where is he feeling that emotion in his body? Has he felt it before, is it novel?

Sometimes, since I have no visual images, I find it helpful to consider other senses, things like taste, touch, smell, etc.. Are they smelling something that reminds them of childhood? Or can they smell something that makes their skin prickle — danger? Can they see rain on the horizon, and does it make them feel like something’s looming?

I guess I’m saying like… sometimes I step away from progressing the plot and start to wandering into what’s happening around them, and how they perceive it.

Which, upon reflection, is probably why I’m so awfully verbose and cannot shut up.

#god is this even what you wanted hahahahaha #I hope so #but anyways the main advice is to just START!!! you can’t find your tone and artistry and perspective if you never give yourself time to tr #writing.txt #ask me :)

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inastarlesssky · 6 months

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Okay, folks. Another essay. (Not a character analysis, folks.)

How I feel about Ron. Under the cut bc it might not be very Ron-friendly (but no Ron-bashing here (okay maybe a little) , just my honest thoughts)

Just gonna start off by saying what follows is my opinion. I haven't read the books, and I don't really plan to. Anything I write, my fics, my meta, you name it, is taken from the movies. That being said, it's just that. Sure, it might not be completely informed bc I haven't read the books. And I'd also like to clarify (my fault for not mentioning this before) this is not a character analysis of Ron Weasley, this is my opinion concerning him from what I've seen in the movies. My opinion is most certainly not law and it's definitely not fully informed bc I haven't read the books, but it's just me putting my thoughts out there.

Alright, so maybe I misunderstand things sometimes. Maybe it's been a few years since I've seen the movies. But the thing is, I don't quite like Ron as a character. Why?

In the first few movies, it's endearing how scared silly he can be, and it's sweet to see he's such good friends with Harry and Hermione. But what really got me was in Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire. Yes, there was the tension between Ron and Harry, but what called my attention was Ron's behaviour towards Hermione. Specifically "You're a girl. Come to the ball with me?" As if she was his last option--she who over the span of a few movies was a good friend and you'd think he might care a little bit more. But then again, they're teenagers, he's probably not thinking as well as he should. It just seemed very un-gentlemanly like to me the way that he asked her about it. If I were here, I wouldn't have appreciated that.

Then, at the actual Ball itself, he was jealous. That's understandable, happens to the best of us. But she was happy and practically beaming that evening. When he accused her of 'fraternizing with the enemy', that was kind of a last straw it seemed to me. Like 1) as she points out, the other schools aren't to be thought of as enemies. It's a competition, but the idea of the Ball was to have everyone together 2) I really don't think he's in a position to speak down to her when he asked her in a less-than-noble way to be his date for the ball.

Thus far my thoughts on Ron. Now bringing up Draco. Now being a Dramione shipper, myself, I will say that of course, I prefer her with Draco rather than with Ron. Why is that? Well, I can't speak for others--but for my part, the Draco that I like and that I ship with Hermione, is one that sees the error of his ways, that apologizes to her and determines (and actually makes efforts to) to be a better man. Basically this is solely in fanfics bc of course, in canon, the closest thing to redemption that we see for Draco is 1) the Manor scene when he refuses to identify Harry and 2) the deleted scene where he throws Harry his wand.

It's true that Draco also was an asshole when he called her mudblood and spoke down to her. He also mistreated her to a certain degree. But the difference I'm making is that in the fanfics I've read, I've seen a progression from 12-year old arrogant Slytherin to a man who will set fire to the world around him but never let them touch Hermione, a man who would move heaven and earth for her. A man who knows he's flawed and knows that he's hurt the woman he loves but he makes every effort to amend that and be better.

If there are Ron/Hermione fics that show him turning around from that moment at the Ball and being a better man, please feel free to hit me up with those, and I'd love to take a look. But it just seems funny to me that that's kind of swept under the rug. Like yes, Hermione forgives. But--if both Draco and Ron insulted Hermione in one way or another--why should there be more work for Draco to redeem himself in Hermione's eyes than Ron? You'd think (so I think) it would have hurt her more to be so treated by Ron, her friend, bc of their history.

To clarify, I am not trying to make a point here that one ship is better than the other. No. Ship and let ship, that's my theme. I just wanted to get my thoughts out bc I was considering and thought I might share it.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#my ramblings #thank you for coming to my ted talk #harry potter #ron weasley #not very ron weasley friendly #sorry #this is NOT a character analysis #just my own thoughts

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brownsplodge · 2 years

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An over the top and in depth analysis on the rottmnt Family medic candidates, and in what order I’d place them to be in as the most suitable medics(real: Splodge sucks at writing short titles)

I’m not usually one for making hcs outside of the known canon, but there are lots of hcs in rottmnt that i love/absolutely agree with. I’m not sure about this one, i don’t feel there is a fixed medic in the family, but it does make sense ngl.

I’m gonna analyse each family member to tell which ones would be the best to fit the role of medic(or replacement Medic).

Raph: Raph would be very likely to become stressed even if someone skinned a knee slightly, or go over the top if one of his family members were injured(not really a bad thing, but it could make them uncomfortable). He wouldn’t be a great medic, not only because of his obviously larger and therefore more clumsy hands, but also because you have to stay calm, or at least be able to keep a cool head when you treat wounds, especially if they’re bad. Raph is in my opinion probably the worst candidate for a medic in most situations, though he could be good if he stays calm and is careful, as he is very motherly and he would probably be good at looking after someone while helping them.

Leo: Leo is as far as I’m aware the most popular candidate for medic in the fandom, and I do see why. He is smart enough to learn something if he wanted to or felt the need to, and he is the best at manipulating others into thinking he’s calm or laid back even in the worst situations. He’s pretty neat in his own way and would probably be able to make whoever he’s treating be so annoyed they don’t even care about being wounded(/pos/j). He’s likely to do it correctly, unlike his other family members, all more likely to go over the top or not know what to do.

Donnie: Donnie was at first my most logical option, but I realised the flaw in this quite fast. Though he’s very smart and no doubt has excellent knowledge in lots of Things, his interests are mostly in technology(that can be useful in certain medical situations, to be fair), and even though it’s likely he knows in theory how to treat wounds, he easily gets nauseous(as seen, especially in the film, a couple times when he feels sick at seeing certain slimy gooey stuff(unspecified to avoid spoilers). Also, agin like with Raph, he might go over the top, and not just because he cares about his brothers but also because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to be a bit of a hypochondriac.

Mikey: Mikey might be a good medic ngl. At first I thought obviously not, but I realised he might not be that bad. He could probably learn medical knowledge(with a bit of difficulty probably), even if his attention span seems a bit short, and other than knowledge, he might be quite a nice caretaker to have. He’s cheerful so you are likely to feel less stressed, and I bet he has a ton of colourful plasters. If the injuries aren’t very bad, Mikey would be a great medic, and the main reason I’m saying if they’re not bad is because he’s pretty young(to be fair not a lot younger than his brothers, but still young), and learning medical knowledge takes time and a good concentration is definitely a plus(which Mikey doesn’t really have). He’d probably be a pretty bangin’ therapist though.

Splinter: Oof. I’m not sure actually. I know that splinter at least at the beginning is pretty neglectful, but he would definitely try to help his family if they needed it, we all know that. The problems I see are that firstly, similar to Raph, he doesn’t seem to handle stress all that well. And secondly, the boys are likely to injure themselves doing something they weren’t supposed to, so they wouldn’t go to ask him for help.

April: I’m a little surprised that April doesn’t really appear as a medic in any fics/hcs. She would, in my opinion, be a pretty good one. She’s a little impulsive, but that’s mainly when it comes to battle, and she would probably be the smartest if it weren’t for Donnie. As far as I’m aware she doesn’t get nauseous as easily, and she can definitely act fast and smart even in dangerous/stressful situations. She probably won’t go over the top or … under the top I guess, and she’s a great improviser, probably would be able to patch someone up on the spot if needed.

In conclusion, I think that even though Medic Leo isn’t a bad hc, I think medic April makes more sense. The order I would put them in would be:

April

Leo

Donnie

Mikey

And Raph and splinter tied.

I hope you had fun watching me rambling without proof or rewatches and I bid you farewell and good luck on your turtly adventures

#I spent way too much time on this #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #analysis #rottmnt analysis #medic leo #medic #medic everyone #teenage mutant ninja turtle headcanons #rise donnie #rise leo #rise splinter #rise mikey #rise raph

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shybunnie20 · 2 years

Note

Totally in the mood for an angsty eddie or steve blurb 🥺 and the way you write is just...*chefs kiss*. Can you do something off of "from the start" by Matt Schuster? This song and your writing would probably make me sob ngl

Eddie Munson x Reader x Player!Steve Harrington

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your intuition forewarned you that Steve is nothing but trouble, yet you couldn't help but be taken with him. When you grow tired of the situationship with Steve, your metalhead weed dealer provides a glimpse of something sweeter.

Author's Note: I'm sorry that this took forever to get done. I just finished OTMB, which was intense, so I needed a break from extreme angst. This might not make you sob but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This is not a Steddie-related fic. Reader has a relationship with Steve and Eddie separately. Steve is not a nice guy in this, sowwy. Moderate angst & fluff. Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Substance use, mentions of sexual relations, insecurity, unrequited feelings, includes swearing.

Friday evenings in this dingy small-town bar are usually uneventful. More often than not, you’re just looking to get out of the confining qualities of your home. It’s freeing to watch the world breathe around you, despite this establishment not being particularly awe-inspiring. Besides the perpetually sticky chairs and cloudy glassware, this place has charm.

One of your favorite aspects of being a regular here is watching the local talent test out their latest material. Due to the other bargoers being less than enthusiastic about what’s happening on stage, you’re sure to give compensatory applause. When you're tipsy, you have the tendency to whistle and whoop too. Tonight’s act is a cover band playing upbeat billboard hits and they’re not half bad.

Sitting in the far back corner not only allows you to fade into the background, but also provides an unobstructed view of the room. It’s the best spot in the house for watching drunkards engage in senseless fistfights. You’re currently seated at the booth that you’ve long since claimed as your spot. You stare at the liquor that swirls inside of your glass with the back-and-forth motion of your hand. Your eyes flit upward to observe your surroundings and that’s when you spot him leaning on the bar.

You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a throbbing between your legs. You’re practically drooling but to be fair it’s a lot to take in. Steve’s voluminous brown waves are styled to look effortless, though he dedicates time to molding each hair into place. Scattered constellations of moles span across his cheeks, jawline, and neck. They effectively guide your gaze down to the tuft of coarse curls peeking from the undone buttons of his shirt. Although what really has your attention is how his Levi’s hug his glutes as if they were tailored by God himself.

The thumping music becomes muffled to the point that you can no longer decipher the lyrics. An unknown force coerces you to continue checking him out from your place across the room. You try to convince yourself that he isn’t that handsome. But much to your frustration, you get dizzier with every swig he takes of his beer. It might be your buzz, or perhaps it’s the loneliness that dwells during these late hours. Whatever it is, you’re too far gone to be saved.

There’s a whisper of foresight in the back of your mind but it's promptly silenced when Steve turns his head and looks directly at you. You pray that the lighting is dim enough to conceal your deer-in-the-headlights expression.

A suggestive smirk forms on his lips while he examines your appearance. He’d noticed you gawking a few minutes ago but nothing beats the ego boost he gets from being eye-fucked by strangers. It makes him feel like “King Steve” again and that’s a rush he’ll never stop chasing.

As he approaches your table, you smooth a hand over the part in your hair in a blind effort to fix your appearance. Who are you trying to kid? You look anything but composed.

Steve doesn’t sit in the booth nor does he stand to the side. Instead, he positions himself right in front of you and takes a seductive sip of his beer.

It’s common courtesy to greet someone as soon as you walk up to them, but he hasn’t said anything. He’s giving you the chance to take him in, in all his glory.

“Hi, there.” You take the reins, aiming to embody a fraction of the confidence that Steve is exuding.

He doesn’t immediately respond because he’s relishing the way your eyes are traveling down his chest to his fingers and eventually making their way back up to his face. A few beats pass before he replies. “Are you here alone?”

You nod modestly and he beams boldly at your wordless answer. You’re relieved to be sitting down right now because a smile like that is enough to bring you to your knees.

“When I see a stunning person like yourself sitting by their lonesome, I’m inclined to offer them company.” He says with a tilt of his head.

Before you have a chance to register his intimation, Steve offers you his hand and leads you out the back door to the alleyway. The chill of the garnet brick starkly contrasts the heat of your exposed skin as he presses you against the building. He slots his knee between your legs and chuckles smugly at the way you’re gripping his shoulders and biting your lip. You hate how good it feels, not just the friction but also the thrill of being desired.

The alley is rather dark so the two of you are relying on your other senses. The impossibly lustful kissing is fueled by the red-hot desire surging through your veins. Steve’s fingertips explore beneath the hem of your shirt and caress your hips. By your breathy reactions alone he can tell how starved you are for affection and he intends on tasting whatever you’ll let him get his hands on.

In a matter of seconds, the intensity shifts and he begins kissing you with purpose. Almost as if this is something more than an impromptu back-alley makeout sesh. Steve pecks across your jaw to suck and nibble at the delicate skin along your pulse. As bruises bloom in the path of his lips, you’re warmed by the notes of cedarwood and vanilla emanating from his expensive cologne.

Candidly, you’re not one to indulge in behavior like this because you know that anyone who’s out at this hour isn’t looking to fall in love. This instance is no exception regardless of how romantic it is to be kissing beneath the stars.

Only later did you realize that Steve swept you off your feet before you could deny him the opportunity.

Unsurprisingly, it’s been a few days since you’ve heard from him. The endless cycle continues as it has for months. Steve says he misses you, the two of you hang out and sleep together, he goes MIA., and then you’re left waiting for the next phone call.

It would be generous to call it a friends-with-benefits dynamic. In spite of the hours you spend consuming each other's presence, Steve doesn’t see it as anything beyond two friends fooling around. He gets all of the perks that a boyfriend gets without any of the responsibility. You, on the other hand, have created an illusion of companionship. Steve takes more than he gives, but you don’t see it that way. It’s unfortunate that you’ve gotten yourself into a mindset where the bare minimum on his part appears to be the utmost effort.

Once in a while, he shows a glint of something more promising than whatever this is. You catch a glimpse of vulnerability from a side of Steve that you desperately want access to. You cling to those moments with the hope that if you offer yourself unconditionally, he’ll eventually want to be exclusive. The spark in his hazel eyes lit the inextinguishable flame that is singeing your heart to ash.

Within the casualness of the time that you spend together, there are occasions where a kiss is shared that instills the belief that your profound feelings are reciprocated. But deep in your bones, you know it's only fleeting. Ergo, you enjoy the short-lived fantasy until it inevitably comes crashing down once more.

The two of you share some chemistry but it’s not a perfect match. Steve is aware of the effect he has on you and he uses it as a means to keep you at his beck and call. The thing is, you’d felt special until you realized that the way Steve talks to you is how he talks to everyone. For some reason, you allow him to string you along. Can you do better than him? Definitely. Do you deserve better? Absolutely. Do you have the confidence to demand it from him? Nope.

Every time your phone rings, he sinks his claws deeper into you. Your attachment to Steve has an immense amount of power simply because of how badly you want to be loved. You eat up every crumb of attention and wait for more, no matter how much it pains you.

You’re torn between dying to see him and admitting that you should move on to greener pastures. Just when you uncover a sliver of self-worth, he calls you. It’s like he can sense when you’re slipping out of his grip and he needs to reel you back in.

It’s the waiting that causes you to question your decision of continuing to see him. While Steve is busy with some long-legged distraction, you’re confronted with indignity. If you had known it was going to hurt like this, you wouldn’t have joined him in the alley that night. While tangled in his sheets thereafter, you failed to recognize that he’d never pick you to be his one and only.

Nevertheless, you can’t stop missing him. You shouldn’t look forward to the way your bed smells after a night with him, but you do. The product is borderline intoxicating. The smell of your clean sheets having been tainted with his hairspray, sweat, and musk. You’d be a filthy liar if you denied sleeping with articles of clothing that he’s left behind on occasion.

Thinking that hearing his voice will help satiate the craving, you pick up your phone and punch in his digits. It rings four times before he picks up.

“Hello?” Steve answers with a winded huff.

You can’t resist the smile evoked by the sound of his voice. “Heyyyy, it’s me. What’re you up to?”

“Why the hell are you calling me?”

You glance at the clock and see that it’s not very late so you couldn’t have woken him. “Oh, uh. I miss-”

Despite Steve placing his hand over the microphone, you can hear him speaking to someone else before he addresses you. “Listen, I’m really busy. Don’t get in the habit of calling me out of the blue ‘cause it makes you look desperate. Try not to be so clingy, okay? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Before you can apologize, the line clicks. Tears dribble over your waterline but you abrasively brush them off with the back of your hand. You’re not stupid, you know exactly what you just interrupted. His breathlessness made it painfully obvious. You can’t honestly expect someone like him to spend his nights alone.

Steve is not yours and you’re growing tired of wishing he was.

In order to dull the heartache brought on by the fact that you’re merely an option, you’ve rekindled your relationship with Mary Jane. There’s nothing quite like wading in a pool of dopamine that causes your brain to bob like a buoy in the soothing tides of fabricated bliss.

Having smoked the remainder of your most recent baggie, you’re here to obtain more bud. The surrounding woods chatter as the brisk wind weaves through the branches that overlap across the dreary sky. For the two years that Eddie has been selling to you, he’s been characteristically late to the meet-ups. According to him, he’s on schedule in “Eddie Time.” You don’t mind because it gives you a chance to soak in the solitude and get some fresh air.

Out of all of his customers, you’re his favorite by a mile. The easygoing connection that you share makes this side hustle worthwhile. Even though he doesn’t know you all that well, the exchanges have always felt relaxed, familiar, and safe.

Eddie arrives seven minutes after you’ve settled at the picnic table. He takes a seat in his usual spot across from you, his metal lunchbox clattering when dropped onto the tabletop. “Couldn’t bear to stay away any longer, huh?” Eddie smiles genially and pops the latches of the tin.

You grin weakly with a lowered gaze while wringing your hands. “You know I can’t keep myself from you, Munson.”

Right off the bat, Eddie detects your pensive energy but he chuckles lightly anyhow. “We met up a week and a half ago, don’t tell me you burned through that bag already.”

“I sure did. I was hoping to buy an ounce or two this time.” You absentmindedly knock your knuckles together.

Lifting his brows and tipping his head forward, Eddie looks at you through his lashes. “Shit, an ounce? I don’t think I’ve ever sold you that much at once.” Eddie straightens his posture but keeps his shoulders slack. “I know it’s none of my business but uh, is everything okay?”

Your weary eyes finally meet his watchful ones. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You release the pent-up pressure from your lungs with a sigh and drop your stare back to your hands. “I’m just dealing with some personal stuff.”

Eddie doesn’t know if you’re as comfortable with him as he does with you, so he decides to test the waters. “Do you wanna talk about it? I like to think that imma pretty decent listener.” He quips, watching to see if you have it in you to appreciate the lame humor.

You know that you can confide in Eddie but you haven’t processed your feelings for Steve to the extent of being able to voice them without sounding insecure. Not to mention, you’ve lost a considerable amount of sleep over the notion that you’re part of a rotation of people that he sleeps with. At least he tries to be discrete about it and doesn’t rub it in your face.

To credit Eddie’s attempt at making you smile, you audibly force air through your nose. “It’s nothing a little bud can’t help” You gulp, swallowing the realization of how pitiful that sounds. The amount that you’re asking for is by no means a small quantity. “Are we good for an ounce then?”

“No can do, sweet pea. I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be buying in bulk so I brought your usual half.” He tosses over a pre-portioned baggy containing the best nuggets from his current supply. He always gives you the good stuff.

Eddie feels bad for lying to your face because he does have more on hand but he doesn’t want to encourage a poor coping mechanism. Rather, he wants to put you in higher spirits without you actually having to get high. “Y’know, one time I got so stoned that I ordered fifty dollars worth of Chinese food.”

Your eyes widen as they find Eddie’s again. “No way. How did you manage to do that?”

While rubbing his forehead, Eddie chuckles at the recollection. “I had an insane case of the munchies, right? Shit, I kept forgetting I’d already placed an order. When the delivery guy showed up with six bags, I was so goddamn confused.”

You cover your mouth to camouflage your amusement. Even with repressing the urge to giggle, Eddie can see a sparkle as you wait for him to continue.

Eddie beams dazzlingly and embellishes his storytelling with dramatic hand motions. “Dude, I wish I was joking. So here I am, sitting in my bedroom with like- the entire menu’s worth of food. I’m talking egg rolls, chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, and cream cheese wontons. The whole nine yards.”

The warm tone of your laughter melds with the rolling breeze. “Please do not tell me you ate all of that in one night.” Judging by the furrow of Eddie’s brows and the way his cheeks retract to bare his teeth, you’re foreseeing the answer to that question.

He throws his hands up defensively. “You know damn well it doesn’t taste as good having it as leftovers.” Eddie chuckles with a pained expression, thinking back to the stomach ache he got from that night. “After that fiasco, I’ve made sure to stock up on snacks before smoking.” Eddie shakes his head but his smile doesn’t wane just yet.

To put it plainly, cheering you up is rewarding for him. He hates seeing you so heavy-hearted when you have the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard. Eddie is pleased with himself for having succeeded in livening your mood even if you won’t fill him in on the details of your troubles.

“I’ll keep your cautionary tale in mind then.” After a couple of stray giggles, you grab the plastic baggy that he’d tossed over. A folded twenty-dollar bill is pulled from your front pocket and held out to him.

Eddie’s smile falters. He accepts the cash and watches as you stand to leave. “Now I don’t wanna see you back here so soon, you got that?”

“Roger that.” You nod and give Eddie a double-digit salute as you step away from the picnic table.

“Pace yourself, sweetheart! That’s potent stuff!” He hollers with the remnants of his smile as you disappear at the forest’s opening.

It’s been several days since that call with Steve. You now find yourself at home watching MacGyver reruns while folding freshly dried laundry. Without question, you lack the enthusiasm to cook dinner tonight. It’s difficult to get yourself to when you’re bogged down from Steve withdrawal, so you wind up munching on potato chips. Part of you is glad he hasn’t called but if you’re being honest with yourself, you miss him.

You’re growing bored of sitting around but there isn’t a whole lot else to distract yourself with besides getting high. Luckily your telephone rings before you can legitimately consider baking edibles. You hope to god it's not Steve but it is around the time of night that he routinely scoops you up to take you back to his place.

You answer reluctantly. “Hello?”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

You hesitate, putting the voice to a face. “Eddie?” It’s unheard of for him to reach out to you. He’s never called you before. Normally, you contact him when you’re running low on weed.

“Bingo. How’re you doing tonight, ya got any plans?”

As much as you don’t want to admit how uneventful this Saturday night is, you don’t feel pressured to make it sound like you’re having the time of your life. “Um no, no plans. Why do you ask?”

Eddie gulps. “Well, I was wondering if you wanna hang out.”

“Do people usually kick it with their drug dealers?” You ask teasingly with a giggle at his proposal.

Eddie snorts. “Nooo, I just got to thinking, we’ve known each other for years now but we don’t really know each other. I guess I’m curious to see what you’re all about. I hope that’s not too forward-”

“Not at all. I’d love to get out and do something. Pick me up in forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, I can totally do that. Uh- see you shortly then.”

Finally, you have somewhere to be other than rolling around in Steve’s bed.

When it comes to buying from Eddie, you normally show up in whatever you’ve got on at the moment. Although, you’ve never spent time together like this before. Taking a glance down at your current threads, you realize that you need to find something else to wear. Crumbs fall to the floor when you brush them off of the t-shirt that hangs loosely over your chest.

Despite not being on a personal level with each other, you know that he’s anything but judgmental. Hypothetically, you could get into his van in your current outfit that has mystery stains and dime-sized rips. Eddie could give a shit, but the nagging self-consciousness is overpowering.

You manage to put together an ensemble that’s equally as comfortable as your pajamas but far more presentable. You’ve just finished slipping on your socks when there’s a rhythmic wrapping at your door. You shove your feet into your shoes and tie them hastily before opening the door.

Eddie’s expression is glowing when his eyes meet yours. “Ready to go?”

You nod with a grin and step through the threshold, pulling the door closed and locking it.

“Alright then, let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He tosses his car keys into the air and catches them.

While making your way toward his van, you chuckle at his vibrance. “So what did you have in mind, anyway?”

Eddie takes long strides in order to beat you to the passenger side door. He aggressively jiggles the handle until it unlatches and swings open. “I was thinking we could get some grub, my treat.” He holds the door open with one hand and offers his other as leverage.

Has your stomach been growling all night? You hadn’t noticed that the potato chips failed to hold you over until now. “I could eat.” You appreciatively place your hand in his and maneuver into the passenger seat. Steve never holds doors for you. You forgot gallantry even exists.

After jogging around the front of the van, Eddie rips open the driver's side door and slides onto the seat. He slots his keys into the lock cylinder and turns the keys over. The engine sputters to life. “Atta girl,” he presses his fingers to his lips and rubs a kiss on the dashboard.

You assume he’s taking you to Benny’s Diner but that’s not what he has planned. The drive to this undisclosed location is taking longer than you anticipated. Fifteen minutes have sailed by with the help of music seeping from the crackling speakers and mellow small talk.

After cruising along the outskirts of the neighboring town, Eddie turns off of the barren road onto the gravel that surrounds a small burger shack. It’s a hidden gem because the town it resides in is smaller than Hawkins. The twilight embraces the hut that is partially illuminated by a towering neon sign that reads “Val’s Hamburgers.”

Eddie wants you to really enjoy the food, so you share the joint that was stashed in his glove box. Regardless of not being well versed in the variation of marijuana strains, you can tell this stuff is stronger than what he supplies you.

You’re sitting by yourself in the back of his van with the side door pulled open. A buzzing crawls across your skin while your fingers tap out the beat to a song that doesn’t exist. The chirping crickets are providing a soundtrack to your weed-induced contentment. You blink lazily, your focus settling on the darkness outside while waiting for Eddie to arrive with the food. A coolness seeps through your shirt from the metal against your back. The grounding nature of the sensation keeps your lids tethered open.

For no particular reason, there’s a stupid grin painted on your face. You feel amazing right now not being worried about existing in Steve’s orbit. The crisp air fills your lungs with your sluggish inhales and it’s refreshing. With your legs crisscrossed beneath you, your body is free of anxious fidgeting. Aside from the tranquility, you’re borderline starving. Your tummy growls loudly and it makes you laugh.

Eddie returns to the van sooner than you’d expected, though you’re not sure how much time has actually passed. It could’ve been four minutes, it could’ve been ten. You have no clue. You’re so comfortable on the cushy blanket laid out beneath you that the passing of time is a concept that you no longer cognize.

He steps into the van and pulls the door closed. The vehicle bounces from the force of Eddie plopping down into a seated position across from you. Your mouth waters as you eyeball the white paper bag in his grasp. The wetness coating your tongue relieves the THC-induced drought. Eddie straightens his legs out in order to use his thighs as a table.

You’re growing far too impatient to wait any longer. Eddie chuckles when you make grabby hands at the milkshake. As soon as he passes it over, you take the straw between your lips and suck. The sugary liquid pacifies your eagerness and you fixate on the crinkling sound that fills the van as Eddie splays the burger wrapper across his lap.

You watch quizzically as he takes the top bun off. “Are you dissecting your dinner?”

“Mmm, not quite.” He glances up at you, “My dear, I am creating the most delicious cheeseburger in Roane county.”

One of your brows raises skeptically. You continuously sip your milkshake while you observe him Frankensteining his meal. Eddie’s ringed hand plunges into the grease-stained paper bag and pulls out a wad of hot french fries. They’re promptly dropped onto the meat patty. The top bun is returned to its rightful place and given two taps with his fingers for good measure.

You can’t help the smile threatening to form. “C’mon, seriously? That’s-”

“Shush, just try it.” Eddie leans forward and angles his fry-stuffed burger to your lips.

You place your hand on top of Eddie’s to stabilize it while you take a bite. Holy shit. The saltiness paired with the cold lettuce, melted cheese, and greasy beef is positively rocking your world.

Eddie takes a larger bite in the same spot that you did as he watches your expression change. The passing of the muted seconds feels boundless. “Soooo? What’s the verdict?” Although he hasn’t finished chewing, he shoves additional fries into his mouth.

You wipe grease from the corner of your mouth and shrug, “It’s okay.”

A crease forms between Eddie's brows. “Just okay? It’s revolutionary and you know it!” He doesn’t mean to speak so loudly but his high can’t stunt the enthusiasm he has for his ingenious combination.

“Alright, it’s phenomenal. I’ll give you that.” Your head is spinning but the munchies are in full force. Earlier, you told him that you didn’t want a burger. But after trying his, you really want more. Lucky for you, he offers you another bite without you having to ask.

Eddie licks the salty shine from his fingertips and watches you finish up the portion of the fries that he spared. He tells you about a weird dream he had last week and it has you in stitches. The image he’s painted of him being chased by a mob of evil Slinkies is amusing, to say the least. Your high is peaking so you’re convinced that this is the funniest shit you’ve ever heard.

Instead of giving commentary, you let him ramble with his grandiose storytelling. He’s caught up in the details until he begins to miss your voice. Eddie stops himself from moving on to describing another dream he had. “What about you, have any odd ones lately?”

The dream you choose to share isn’t nearly as bizarre, but Eddie is looking at you like you’re the most fascinating person he’s ever met. He listens with intensity and it indicates how much he cares about what you have to say. You’re having trouble recalling the sequence of events, but he’s following along just fine. Eddie downright adores the way your nostrils flare right before you get to the funny part.

He doesn’t know why he never asked you to hang out before, you’re such a dream to him. The desire to explore you from eyelids to ankles is far too substantial to ignore. You’re exactly what he’s always wanted. A little too feisty to function, but all the while you’re incredibly kind when you want to be.

It’s only been two minutes, but it feels like you’ve been talking for an hour. You gradually stop gabbing in an attempt to cool your jets because of how annoying that must have been for him to have to sit through.

Eddie picks up on it in a heartbeat. His smile falls as he witnesses your confidence shrink. “You okay?”

The tingling becomes unbearable so you unfold your legs and straighten them out alongside his. “Yeah, of course.” Steve is the one who does all the talking. He vents about his issues while you listen subserviently. He has never done that for you.

With his gaze angled down to reduce the sensation of a spotlight being cast on you, Eddie twists the skull ring around the base of his finger. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You tilt your head back against the metal wall and look down your nose at him. “Go for it.”

Eddie clears his throat, trying not to fixate on the heat radiating from your legs that are a mere inch from his. “Stop me if I’m overstepping, but uh- what’s got you so down lately?”

You take a second to contemplate lying or spilling your guts about your romance-related dilemma. “You really wanna know?”

“I really do.” Eddie pushes his curls behind his ears to ensure he hears everything you have to say.

With a shallow breath, you bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your shins to keep them in place. “Boy problems.”

“Oh,” He nods. “What’s this guy’s deal?”

Your look at Eddie because you’re surprised that he wants you to elaborate. His benign expression conveys that it’s okay to talk about it. You lick your lips and avert your gaze before delving into the heartache. “Long story short, I’m fun to fool around with but not enough to be his girlfriend.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie is quick to shut down your remark. From your choice of words, he can tell that you need someone to care for you and that you’ve been neglected of being cherished. He desperately wants to prove himself worthy of doing that. “You’re good enough. I mean it.” He nudges your shoe with his sneaker, watching closely as you bring your head up from its bowed angle.

Eddie’s words echo in your head while you bite down on your lip. You’ve never had a guy say that to you. You’re lost in distress and unable to process the compliment. “He sleeps with other people. A handful, actually. And when he chooses me for the night, I guess I feel wanted.”

It’s obvious that you’re being taken advantage of. How could someone think you’re not worth it? You’re worth it and Eddie would risk it all for you. He’s so annoyed that he doesn’t hear the change in his tone. “Why are you letting him treat you like a doormat? You’re smarter than that.”

Your eyes snap to Eddie’s face. What the fuck? The words of shock die in your throat. You open up to him and that’s how he responds? Your tears reflect the glow of the light fixture overhead. You tuck your face behind your knees to conceal the broken expression that reveals how mortified you are.

Eddie’s voice softens in realization, “Shit. Please don’t cry, sweetheart.”

You do your best to keep the tears at bay with every brain cell you have. The last thing you want is to be this vulnerable ever again. You squeeze your eyes closed so tightly that it hurts because you’ll be damned if a single tear is shed.

Eddie reaches over and loosely takes your hand in his, giving you the opportunity to rip your hand away if you wish to. The pad of his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

The soothing sensation causes a cry to spill from your throat but you choke it down and swallow it. You don’t know how to process a guy genuinely caring about you.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean-”

“No,” You lift your head to face him. “You’re right. I brought this on myself. He treats me like that because I let him.”

Your hardened expression makes Eddie anxious but your hand still hasn’t left his. He takes it as a sign that he didn’t totally blow his chances. Eddie scoots closer and wipes the tear on your cheek with a feather-light touch. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking idiot.” When he fiddles with your fingers in his palm, he catches how your shoulders slacken. “I was trying to say that you don’t have to settle for being his toy. You deserve more than he’ll ever be able to give you.”

The pessimist in you wants to argue that you’ll never find anyone better and that you’re being treated for what you’re worth. But it occurs to you that all this time, it’s been Steve’s voice convincing you of that. You’ve been made to feel insignificant to the extent that you believed he was the only guy who could possibly tolerate you.

You can’t help but smile at Eddie’s certainty and he eats it up. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Eddie doesn’t dare to break eye contact as he bathes in your radiance. “A smile looks good on you.”

Normally you’d hide your face but you don’t. Your stare is locked on his burnt honey irises. It‘s like a warm blanket is being draped over your shoulders.

If Eddie could change the way you see yourself, you’d understand why Steve doesn’t deserve you.

Since that night at Val’s, you’ve built a routine of getting high and doing something spontaneous together. Last weekend Eddie took you to The War Zone. You were hesitant at first but in the end, you had a blast. The far corner of the store was your favorite part. Eddie had never seen someone so excited over tiny jars. You were delighted and he couldn’t bring himself to talk you out of buying them. For ten minutes, you went on about all of the objects you could put in jars that little. He would’ve sat and listened to you list things all day.

You don’t miss Steve anymore. Every time you looked into his eyes you saw that he wasn’t looking into yours with the same passion. You perceived him as this incredible guy who could do it all. But in reality, he offered you so little.

Steve was meant to show you what isn’t right for you. Every time his hands roamed your body, they had no intention of touching your soul. The blissed-out feelings that were once evoked by Steve’s hands are now brought on by the sweet nothings that Eddie whispers.

All this time, there was something better out there for you and you’ve finally found it.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

★Ko-fi ♡

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr @nj01 @tlclick73

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rockingrobin69 · 11 months

Text

get to know me tag game

Thanks @littlewinnow for tagging me!

Three Ships: drarry, obviously; lamen, most ardently; victurri, although I don't really participate in fandom.

First Ship: oof, I don't remember! I can tell you that the first fic I ever wrote was about Seamus. His mum wanted him to become a Death Eater, I think?? It was mostly teenage angst, as I was, well, a teenager, and - yeah.

Last Song: Fresh Feeling, Eels. guess I need all the good vibes.

Last Movie: we watched Indiana Jones 5 because I'm a huge phoebe waller-bridge fan!

Currently Reading: Very invested in @unleashed-fest, although my severely-shot attention span isn't allowing very fast progress. What I read so far was BRILLIANT.

Last Thing I Wrote: *whispering* a fic for unleashed! Also I'm doing flufftober, a short, soft thing for every day so far (and SO impressed with myself for STILL going at it). Here's a link if anyone's interested!

Currently Writing: god, I, er. There are so many wips. My main goal is to get back to my WHUMPY fic, imperfection, but that might take a while.

Are you named after anyone? nope. I will say that one of my names means grace or beauty, and my mum was very worried about naming me that because she was scared of - irony, I guess. (I'm not very graceful. 😂)

Favorite Subject in School: probably English literature, although I carried on with biology in the end.

Do you have kids? No. I'm at an age where everyone's asking about it, and I still don't have an answer!

When was the last time you cried? not a very good crier. Still learning to be a bit more gracious with myself.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? hmm. I don't think I do. Also, and it's very sad, but I cannot fib to save my life - every time I try I start laughing uncontrollably. People know I'm full of it by the time I crack a grin. For example, I got through three sentences about the 'wolf fish' I'd seen in the med sea before losing my breath laughing.

What sports do you play/have played? none? I love hiking, walking, swimming, dunno if that counts as 'playing'. I did do a bit of gymnastics? Could do the splits till I was about 14. Now, I can barely move, haha.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? their mood.

Any special talents? I'm very good at certain board games, does that count? Also at making up things - backstories, animals, (bad, bad) jokes, songs. Story-teller, what can I say.

Where were you born? not where I grew up 🙃

What are your hobbies? reading, writing, hiking, animal spotting, pointing at randomly delightful things all around me, noticing the world, etc.

How tall are you? I'm 5'5 or 165 cm

Dream Job: ooh. Maybe running a b&b with my partner by a large body of water (or a small one, I'm not picky), writing in the backroom or something. He's got the hospitality experience, and I've got - patience. And I love talking to people!

no idea who did this already but waving at @phoebe-delia, @basicallyahedgehog, @crazybutgood and @getawayfox.

#Robin answers #tag games

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iravaid · 2 years

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hiii. i adore ur little thang (lunchbox) and i was wondering if there was any like, fic, or posts i could go to To Obtain The Full Lunchbox Lore Experience (insert a trademark symbol here bc im too lazy to copypaste it) < 3 < 3 < 3

Hi! Hello! I also adore that little thang, and am always happy to see people do as well skdhf

I don't think I've made a Certified Lunchbox Lore Sheet, I've adapted her for use as a TTRPG NPC, and talked about her here and there, but will probably make a dedicated post about her in the future + an oc sheet. maybe. if there is time and my attention span allows 😭

Lunchbox was initially made to serve as a character in my Nines/LaCroix fic, WDH, but in what has been posted so far, she has made the one appearance (Hoping to include her more as an emotional crux + heathen to the world), I am working on rewriting WDH as I'm getting back into it and my writing style + intention for the plot has changed in the past year and a half (NEARLY TWO YEARS. People are so incredibly patient <3). She's existed as a character since late 2020 and was my first VtM oc! liddol lady, going to give a longer about of her below

Lunchbox's sire is a character from Night Roads, a Nosferatu Elder known as Reremouse. The circumstances surrounding her embrace, and the event itself is something I'm intending to go into further detail in in another ask that's been sent! But yeah, Lunchbox was Embraced, she fled Reremouse before he could devour her, and through some combination of sheer luck, the intuition of a very scared and hurting child in the midst of becoming a nosferatu, and cooperation with the Beast, Lunchbox made it into LA, where she was found in the sewer system underneath the city by other Nosferatu. At first they'd thought she was a szlachta, but Lunchbox was eventually caught on camera and people realised that this was one of their own. At this point Lunchbox has been feeding off of animals she could get her hands on, rats, birds, lizards, snakes, dogs, cats, and the like. It's not like she gets any real joy or thrill out of it, just that she's hungry.

Filthy, terrified, and more Beast than person, she was slowly coaxed into the Warrens, the Nosferatu of LA leaving little toys and gifts by places they had seen the little Nosferatu running about. She gets her name from the little Digimon lunchbox she kept clutched in her hand on the journey over, it’s the only thing she was able to hold on to in her past life, and is empty. One of the other Nos suggested the name as a joke when they were struggling to communicate with her, but Lunchbox recognised the word, reacting to it, and it eventually stuck.

Lunchbox is 8th generation, and gained a very quick mastery of Obfuscate. She can't speak due to the traumatic nature of her embrace, as well as her Nosferatu appearance interfering with general word formation (huge teeth, no lips, weird windpipe, upper palate gone all weird, tongue much stubbier), and at the beginning communication is achieved mostly yes/no questions, drawings, and charades. Soon she'll be taught ASL, and her and Nines learn LSM, as Spanish is her first language and has to figure out English during her time in LA. Nines speaking the same/similar dialectical Spanish is one of the factors that makes her gravitate towards him, because he speaks like how her family did. (he’s also one of the few kindred in LA who still seems to retain the ability to speak to kids and Not be a freak)

Gary is the one who primarily takes care of Lunchbox in the Warrens, which typically entails keeping an eye on her, making sure she has somewhere to spend torpor (used to be a box in his closet she’d bundle up in for comfort, now she has her own room with most of her stuff in it), and making sure she’s not causing too much of a mess aboveground with the other Kindred. He’s not as physically affectionate towards her as Nines and others might be, Gary isn’t the most paternal person in the world, but he still grows to care for her in her own way, and I think Lunchbox recognises that Gary is her protector and carer.

Lunchbox likes skittering about the sewers and is usually only seen by others when she wants them to, she’s very apprehensive of strangers and it would take a long time for her to warm up to them after watching them for some weeks and gauging if they’re a threat to her or not - this process can be sped up if someone she trusts ie. Gary and Nines, introduces them to her. Lunchbox also has a habit of stealing assorted valuables (money, jewellery, keys, artefacts and the like), toys, and anything that is brightly coloured and/or shiny. She likes collecting small children’s toys, as well, and has recently acquired two domesticated rats as famuluses, named Funnelcake and Churro (Gary let her steal them from the Santa Monica PetSmart)(this is very much inspired by @/shrikehouse’s art of her here he is an amazing artist, pls go check him out). Before this, Lunchbox was ambivalent to rats, but now she doesn’t want to hurt any by feeding on them (might hurt her famuluses’ feelings). She’s content sneaking into the blood bank and swiping some bags behind Vandal’s back.

Lunchbox is a no gods no masters kind of beast and likes to harass everyone and anyone, but she’s also quite tolerated by those who have every right to retaliate, while most tend to like and/or adore the little creature, once they figure out she is genuinely just a kid (bearing all the horror that accompanies that reality). When Gary has had enough of her for the night/needs her to be watched and no one else is able to in the Warrens, he leaves her at the Last Round, where Nines tends to take care of her.

Damsel didn’t immediately fawn over Lunchbox when they first met so in Lunchbox’s mind that means they’re enemies (Damsel is not aware of this), Skelter entertains her by playing videogames with her on arcade machines or gameboy. Knox thinks she’s both very cool and very cute in a gnarly way, and Bertram thinks this whole situation with Gary accidentally becoming an adoptive vampire dad hilarious - kid’s okay in his eyes. The Voermans are slightly aware of her, and Vandal thinks the blood bank is haunted. Strauss doesn’t mind the way Lunchbox occasionally appears in the Chantry from time to time, so long as she doesn’t ruin his books and relics. Mercurio is creeped out by her and tries not to incite her trickery, to somem success - he also just Doesn’t know how to interact with her because she is both a child and a vampire and she’s technically higher ranking than him societal wise, but she also needs a booster seat. so.

Smiling jack thinks she’s a weird little kid, not much else to say; he might try and smuggle her fireworks if only to see what she’ll do with them. Ming Xiao has never encountered her, and Andrei has a kind of Cronenberg Tom and Jerry situation with her because she finds it funny to steal his meat relics (tm) and replace them with My Little Pony dolls when he’s not looking (tunnel between his house and the warrens works BOTH ways). She is also the bane of LaCroix’s existence. Fight the system, little one, and fight it well.

That’s what i can think of as a little Lunchbox Lore Experience for now! Thank you for the ask!

#ask #lunchbox vtm #nosferatu #vtm #vtmb #vampire the masquerade

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magicshopaholic · 2 years

Text

Weekend Story: A Japanese GP Special (Part 1)

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

How Taehyung and Dilara first met

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 27.5 K

Rating: 18+

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

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

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

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

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

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

Listen to: “on se plaît” by françoise hardy

part 2 | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

a night to remember

Something’s different.

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

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

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

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

“No, it’s not that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about -”

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

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

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

“Oh, sure, we’ll see.”

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

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

Max raises his eyebrows under his Red Bull cap, ignoring a photographer who darts in front of us to take a picture (Red Bull teammates enter the paddock together!). “I said we’ll see.”

“Yeah, but… you’re being facetious, right?”

“Not a hundred percent sure what that word means but I’m going with no.” When I stare at him, eyes widening, he frowns in confusion. “I meant, we’ll see because we’ll be there,” he explains kindly.

“No, no, no, no,” I mutter, slapping his shoulder. “What does that mean? How are you - how did you even get tickets?”

“Lily got them for us.”

Lily, meaning Lily He, Chinese-American golfer dating Alex Albon, another fellow driver. Also the person who got me my ticket. “Um -” I clear my throat, trying to make sense of this. “Lily said she was getting tickets for us.”

“Yeah. That’s what she did,” he says calmly, reaching for my coffee again.

“No, as in, her and me, us,” I say tightly, feeling my heart race. Max Verstappen cannot see me at a BTS concert. “And Lexie, of course.

“Didn’t Lexie get food poisoning or something?”

I sigh. My trainer and probably the closest friend I have these days threw up on the flight from London to Tokyo and given the tight circle that is the F1 community, the news probably travelled to everyone before we even landed. It’s a blow, but there’s not much I can do about it.

“Yeah, she did,” I confirm, trying to hide my disappointment at losing my trainer for a day. “I told her not to eat ramen at Kuala Lumpur airport. Anyway,” I add hurriedly, getting back on track, “I thought Lily would just give that ticket to Alex and that’s it.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind if Alex goes with you?”

“No. He’s nice. And he can't make fun of me without making fun of Lily, too,” I point out, shrugging.

“Well, Lily’s us definitely included more people than you and Lexie. She got tickets for George and Lando, too, but George isn’t landing until the evening so -” He shrugs exaggeratedly, clearly oblivious to my growing horror.

George, Alex’s oldest friend and driver for Mercedes wouldn’t have been half bad. He teases and banters but is overall a decent guy. Lando, of course, a twenty year old twerp in McLaren who’s sure to have at least ten memes of me floating around by tomorrow morning, might be an even worse addition than Max.

“This is a nightmare,” I state as we reach the Red Bull garage. “Just be warned, Verstappen. I still have that video of you at that Martin Garrix concert.”

“Point taken. And don’t worry - we just want to get out of this town and see Tokyo before the race weekend officially starts,” he adds, sounding almost sincere as we pass another giant poster of him and I. “If your fangirling is the most fascinating thing we see there - not our fault.” We automatically separate to enter our own garages, right after I knock his baseball cap off his head and he playfully shoves me. “We’ll head out at four, yeah?” he calls, turning around and walking backwards, hands in his pockets.

It’s far from ideal; while everyone I’m having to go with tonight is ultimately a friend, they’re also a competitor, which means there’s still a certain distance I need to keep with each of them. Going to a concert together isn’t a bad thing at all, but watching me tearfully scream in extremely basic Korean at performers my own age is not something I want them to see. Ever.

I suppose I don’t have a choice. I’ve never been lucky enough to snag tickets to a BTS concert, mostly because I’ve never been in the same location. This time, though, their calendar and the F1 calendar have somehow overlapped - and even that’s only due to a stroke of luck that they decided to add a few more Asian concerts before their tour officially comes to a close.

I had no idea, of course; ever since I moved from F2 into F1, I’ve only barely managed to keep up with their music, let alone anything else - I couldn’t even tell you what colour hair they’re currently sporting. Today is the last concert, though - the absolute last one - so when Lily called me as she sat in front of her laptop, waiting to pounce the moment tickets went live, I said yes without a second thought.

After an hour at the gym and a quick shower, I reach the paddock the same time that Max does. Near the Red Bull enclosure is a huge standee with both our faces on it, similar to the one I was staring at in the parking lot, Max looking smug and so Dutch while I tilt my chin down and look up with only a hint of a smile. It was a suggestion from my publicist: “You’re a girl - the only girl - and people will underestimate you. Try not to smile too much. Stay somewhere in between the Gasly and Raikonnen territory - far away from the Ricciardo area.” Under our picture is a stream of sponsor logos, starting with Honda. I frown as we walk past it, still unable to put my finger on what’s wrong with it.

Once we’re inside, I’m descended upon by hair and make-up, who touch up my cheeks and hair until PR officially starts. Half an hour in, I’m taking a break outside my garage, drinking a bottle of water and talking to Tom Clarkson, a journalist, who’s passing by on his way to the McLaren enclosure when I see a handful of photographers approaching, backs to us, busy taking pictures of someone. My first thought for some reason is Yuki Tsunoda, the only Japanese driver, but he’s no longer on the grid… I frown, but all it takes is a moment where the photographers back away and I recognise the guest immediately.

Or guests, I should say. I can hardly believe my eyes. I almost hope I’m having a moment of unconscious bias and mixing my Asian men but I know that’s an empty hope. There’s only four of them, but they’re unmistakable: the tallest, the visual, the pretty one and the one with the cheekbones. I haven’t had favourites in this band in years, but I would recognise their faces anywhere. It’s only when Namjoon points at Max’s banner on top of his garage that I realise I’m shamelessly staring.

Calm the fuck down, Dilara. I avert my eyes instantly, wishing Tom had stayed so that it would force me to rein in the fangirl inside me, but before I can, one of the Honda PR guys meets them and says something in Japanese - presumably - and points at Max’s garage. There’s a moment of foreboding when I remember that Max is still in PR and therefore the only driver left is -

“Dilara Komyshan!” The Honda guy points at me and I make out my name in the flurry of Japanese as all four members turn to look at the same time. An entire year of media training means I automatically smile and give them a small wave as they approach. Namjoon is, as expected, the first to speak.

“Dilara, great to meet you,” he says, smiling and offering his hand. The others next to him wave and mutter their greetings. My first thought is that they’re taller than I expected - or maybe that’s because everyone looks tall when you’re five foot one. They’re also… bigger than I expected. They’re lean, but camera angles must be a thing because I suddenly feel like they’re towering over me.

They must have really taken me off guard, for without thinking, I go, “Aren’t there more of you?” I realise what I’ve said only after I’ve said it. There’s a moment of silence before all of them snort. Even though I’m embarrassed, I’m also glad; there’s usually no better way to start off a conversation than a joke. “Just four of you performing tonight?”

They’re just about coming around. “They were too lazy,” says Jimin, his smile even prettier in person. “Are you coming to the concert?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“First time ever,” I confess, crossing my fingers before cringing and lowering my hand. “But at least I know my favourite members now,” I add, gesturing to them and Jimin winks.

I know what I’m doing - and I have a feeling they do too. It’s not a big deal, but it does happen remarkably often. Every time a male celebrity comes to the paddock, they inevitably pass by Red Bull to meet the first and only girl on the grid. It’s never to hit on me or anything, but as per my publicist during media training: “There’s probably something about the sudden dip in testosterone in the interaction that if you flirt, they will reciprocate”. It was subtle, but I knew what she was telling me to do.

“Well, I’m everyone’s favourite.” Jin deadpans and Jimin snorts again, but my eyes automatically go towards the only member that hasn’t spoken yet. Taehyung, in a loose brown button-down and black trousers, stands silently behind the other three, his smooth face betraying only the tiniest of smirks. He’d laughed at my joke - I think, for he’d lowered his head, too, but his long hair had obscured his face entirely. Now, his dark eyes snap from Jin to me in an instant and I hold his gaze for a moment before I look back at Namjoon, who’s now talking about why they’re in the paddock. I try to pay attention, for I really do want to know why, but I’m still hyper aware of Taehyung looking at me.

Just media training. I force myself to think of them as any other celebrity; the last and only time I’d been this starstruck was when Daniel Craig had come to Silverstone in England and the humiliation of that day is not something I wish to repeat ever again, especially not with BTS.

Thankfully, another member of the Honda team appears next to me and greets them, and without thinking, I look back at Taehyung. This time, he holds my gaze for a couple of moments before turning his attention to the Honda guy. I don’t even try to follow the conversation; I just stand there politely, silently daring Taehyung to look at me again. When I chance it, his face is still smooth and impassive, with that same slight smirk as he listens to the conversation in front of him, almost as though he knows I’m looking at him. At that point, the Honda guy asks a question and Taehyung replies in Japanese, voice surprisingly deep and deadpan as ever, and the other three burst out laughing at whatever he’s said. He simply grins, clearly aware of how funny he is, and flicks his long hair out of his eyes.

At that moment, an arm goes around my shoulder and someone else joins me. “Dude, I think I figured out what’s wrong with the -” Max breaks off abruptly when he looks up, noticing only then apparently that I’m not alone. “Oh, hi, I’m Max,” he says, leaning forward to shake each of their hands.

As they greet each other, I struggle not to roll my eyes because despite Max’s sub-standard acting, none of this is a coincidence. One day, last year, when Tom Holland had come to the Portuguese Grand Prix and stopped by our garage to talk to me, Max had slithered next to me exactly like this and whisked me away, introducing me to the move. When I’d been most unimpressed, he’d informed me that there was no better way to gauge the interest of a man I’d just met than to see his reaction when another man entered the picture.

It seemed vaguely prehistoric and sexist, not least because he’d just assumed that I cared at all about a man’s interest on a race weekend, but its results had proven undeniably effective. Tom Holland had slid into my DMs that very night, Harry Styles had retweeted a picture of me and him the day after I’d met him at the French GP with a questionable caption, and Michael B Jordan - Michael B Jordan - had sent flowers straight to my London apartment. Nothing had ever happened with any of them, of course, but their gestures had been enough for me to gain a little extra, if begrudging, respect for Max.

I look up to see if Max’s move today has generated any desired results, only to see Taehyung looking at me again, face completely unreadable. His gaze flickers momentarily to Max before meeting mine again, before he flicks his hair out of his eyes and looks away towards Jimin, jawline sharp. Jackpot.

Meanwhile, Max tugs slightly. “Natalie’s waiting for us,” he tells me, pointing to the blonde journalist next to the garage, and the boys seemingly get the hint. They start saying their goodbyes and I wave back, when Namjoon says, “Hope you have a good time tonight.”

I start to smile and nod, when next to me, Max beats me to it. “Oh, we will,” he says casually, making me want to hit him. But I rein it in to the best of my abilities and simply smile, just needing this awkwardness to be over.

“See you tonight,” says Taehyung, face smooth and impassive.

I stare, for his tone makes it seem like it could be directed at both me and Max, but his eyes are still on me. The other members don’t seem to notice anything strange but I suddenly feel unbelievably grateful for Max Verstappen.

“Yeah. I can’t wait,” I add, waving and taking a step back and Max’s arm drops from around my shoulders. “Good luck.” As we walk away, Max leans down slightly.

“Think it worked?” he mutters.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say automatically. “But… what are they doing here?”

“It’s a Honda and Samsung event this weekend,” he answers, clearly pleased that he knows something I don’t. “That’s what’s wrong with the poster. There’s a Samsung logo in there. Your boyfriends got paddock passes.”

Elbowing him in the side and ignoring his grunt, I glance back one more time, making sure to flip my hair a little and see the band walking away as well - with Taehyung glancing back at me, face unreadable, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur of random PR until we hurry back to the hotel to get ready for the concert. Tokyo is a good three hour drive away but with four F1 drivers in the car, we easily make it in under two and a half. Since Lando and Alex seemingly have no intention of drinking at all tonight, Max, Lily and I relax a bit and decide to have a good time, pre-gaming with a round of shots at a sushi bar close to the venue.

We have good seats; since we’re all VIP (“Lily, I could kiss you.”) and have a balcony to ourselves, we’re allowed to be liberal with seat numbers and, more importantly, are allowed alcohol. Lando, true to form, procures beer from somewhere, placing two six packs under one of the seats and passing cans of some Japanese brand around. About fifteen minutes before the band is announced, by which time fans are already screaming in the thousands and we are buzzed as hell, a bouncer-type comes up to us.

“Komyshan?” All four of my companions point to me as I raise my hand curiously. He hands me a white envelope, shrugging when I ask him what it is before walking away.

As he leaves, I tear it open to find a card in my hand, approximately the size of my phone. There’s a picture of BTS on one side, with the logo and details of today’s concert. On the back is a QR code, followed by the unmistakable words that tell me what it is, despite my disbelief: a backstage pass. For a moment, I’m speechless while Lily groans softly in longing and Alex and Lando frown. “How’d you get that?” Alex asks, looking over my shoulder with ease, six foot frame coming in handy.

I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how they knew for sure that I’d arrived, when I had, and how the bouncer had found me. Fortunately, Max comes to my rescue once more. “She met the band today,” he says nonchalantly. Alex and Lily shrug it away, the latter still eyeing the pass in disappointment, but Lando, who is no stranger to my occasional brushes with male celebrities, raises an eyebrow knowingly.

“Shut up,” I mutter, even as I continue to wonder how and why they’ve singled me out with a pass. As far as I remember, backstage passes aren’t even a thing BTS does very often. In fact, I’m not even wholly sure that it’s from the band. The smallest, most optimistic part of me that’s replayed my brief interaction with Kim Taehyung over and over in my head, feels convinced that it’s he who’s sent it - or at least it’s he that the rest of the band has agreed to send it for.

But when the band finally comes out and the crowd screams deafeningly, my heart sinks a bit, for there’s no way in hell that I’m the only one that has a backstage pass. Immediately, I feel like slapping myself for reading this deeply into an interaction that had lasted less than three seconds - in fact, if I have to guess, Taehyung doesn’t remember it at all and the only reason they’ve sent it is to be polite, since we met in what can be considered backstage at my place of work.

It’s an incredible experience, though. All seven members have a stage presence of their own, different people stealing the show depending on the song. My eyes keep going only to one member, though. When Taehyung sings, smiles, or does literally anything else, I’m left with nothing to do but admire how exhilarated he seems when he looks at the crowd, how his long and sweaty hair falls into his eyes, how his trademark smirk widens to become the smile that I’m sure will one day kill me.

They do plenty of crowd work in Japanese - in which, it seems, most of the band is fluent - and the crowd screams and laughs. None of the five of us understand anything except for the bits they say in English, of course, but Max is hopped up on enough liquor to jam to the music while Lando keeps busy streaming what feels like the entire concert, and Lily and I sing along to nearly every song.

At first, the distance to the stage had seemed much smaller. I’d half-expected at least one of the members (Taehyung, Taehyung) to spot me but when they’d come on, it was clear that they were performing to the crowd and not sections of it. The realisation had been mildly disappointing but it also meant that I could enjoy the concert without feeling too conscious, even as I forced myself to remember the people I was here with.

It’s objectively a wonderful concert. At the end of it, Lily and I are still buzzing as we head out with the guys. Just as we reach the door, I stop.

Max turns. “What?”

I don’t answer. The backstage pass feels like it’s burning a hole through my sling bag. I want to go, but this would be the first time in my whole life that I’ve ever entered a party alone. Max seems to know where my thoughts are. “You want to go?”

“I -”

“Of course she does!” Lily exclaims. When I say nothing, she turns to me incredulously. “You - you do, right? You actually have a backstage pass, Dilara,” she explains to me slowly, as though I’m a toddler. “This chance will literally never come again.”

“But…” I’m suddenly stumped. “What - what do I do backstage? What do people do at parties? Do I - do I mingle?”

Alex and Lando, my fellow introverts, seem to seriously ponder this question. Max just squints at me thoughtfully while Lily half-glares at me. “Yes,” she deadpans.

She’s right, of course. I take out the pass and stare at it, hoping the answer will jump out at me. Finally, I look up. “If I’m not back in fifteen, you guys go on without me.”

Lando's eyebrows rise high up his forehead as Lily beams, but Max is much less subtle. He snickers and nods, telling me in a low voice to go and get lucky. Ignoring him, I take a deep breath and head backstage.

It turns out that "backstage" isn't actually backstage at all; a docent informs me that the backstage party is taking place at the hotel across the street where the band is staying tonight before leaving for their next destination in the morning. When I reach, the party is in full swing. I was right: there are at least a hundred people here, most of them girls, almost all of them with drinks as a Dua Lipa song plays on the speakers.

It's not as dark as I'd expected it to be. In fact, it’s less like the rock and roll afterparties I’d imagined and more of a lounge night, with a nice vibe and what looks like an open bar. The lights are dimmed and the music is blaring, but I spot the band almost the moment I enter. I spot Namjoon with a drink, standing with Jin and Suga as they laugh at something. Next to them is Hoseok, enthusiastically talking to a couple of girls, both of them hanging onto his every word. On the other side, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook bop to the music together, looking effortlessly graceful as they do so.

Now that I've spotted the maknae line, I have no idea what to do. It's far too awkward to walk further into the party while not knowing a soul. Even when I scan the rest of the crowd, I can’t really tell who they are. They definitely aren’t fans; everyone is dressed in designer-wear which makes me wonder if this, too, is a PR-related afterparty. It would certainly explain my presence here. Just as I start to wonder if this is all a terrible idea, from all the way across the room, Taehyung's eyes meet mine.

Before anything else can happen, though, we're blocked by a bunch of people entering the makeshift dance floor. Suddenly feeling uncomfortably alone, I go to the bar and order a beer - anything to not feel this awkward. The feeling doesn't last, though, and when another ten minutes pass and I don't see Taehyung anywhere, I get ready to admit defeat.

I turn around to leave, placing my beer on the bar and calling Max, when I finally see him again. I don't know if he knows that I was just about to leave, but this time he sees me and starts walking straight towards me, squeezing through the crowd of dancing people.

I stay rooted to the spot, my phone at my ear but the ringing sounds more distant by the second. When he reaches me, he places a hand behind me on the bar and leans in to speak into my ear. His long hair brushes my cheek and I catch a whiff of cologne.

"Do you want to go somewhere quiet?" Taehyung asks, sounding like deep velvet.

Finally.

I hesitate for a second and then nod, trying not to seem too eager, and motion for him to lead the way. My phone call is forgotten as I follow him through a side door, a couple of dark corridors and two flights of stairs to what looks like a balcony. I step out onto it, registering the long patch of fake grass and soft and sparkly lighting, to see us overlooking the pool of the hotel. Okay, this is it.

I can feel Taehyung behind me, albeit a few feet away. I turn around to see him with his hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, surveying his surroundings with a mildly satisfied expression - I can’t tell for sure, because his face is just so goddamn unreadable. His eyes land on me, though, and - I know it sounds ridiculous - but the night suddenly feels warmer.

“I feel like Rapunzel,” I begin, peering over my shoulder at the ground again, not knowing how else to mention my deathly fear of heights. When Taehyung simply tilts his head curiously, I continue. “Rapunzel. She had really long hair, locked up in -”

“No, I know Rapunzel,” he interrupts, looking slightly amused. “Should I rescue you, princess?” he asks seriously, raising his hand to his side in a fist as though holding an invisible sword.

I almost laugh. The Paddock’s Princess was what the media had titled my first feature article when I started in Formula One, a slightly sexist nod to the first girl in the sport. Some fans who couldn’t stand the sight of me on the grid used it with vigour on social media until my fellow drivers started deliberately using it, too, succeeding in eventually turning it into a somewhat casual nickname rather than an insult.

I highly doubt Taehyung knows this. In fact, hearing the name come out of his mouth makes me feel something else entirely. It’s incredible that he’s already eliciting such ridiculous thoughts in my mind; the only saving grace is that I’ve resisted displaying it so far - and it’s only because he seems to know the effect he has on me. “Oh, please, my prince,” I answer dryly, putting a hand to my chest. “Help me?”

Taehyung smirks, like he’s enjoying an inside joke. “Did you enjoy the show?” he asks, voice calm and deep. The Korean lilt in his voice is more pronounced than some of the other members’, based on the few things they’d said on stage and certainly more than Namjoon’s. It makes my toes curl inside my shoes.

“Of course,” I say honestly, leaning back against the railing. “My friends enjoyed it, too.” I say it without thinking but if Taehyung thinks of Max, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh, I know. I saw you dancing.”

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “You - you did? There were some ten thousand people there.”

“You were in the VIP box. It wasn’t hard.” His smirk is more pronounced now as my face starts to heat up. “You’re a good dancer.”

“Thank you. You’re a good singer.”

That makes him laugh. His smile hits me like a ton of bricks and I know that I absolutely have to see it again, that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. “Show me what you know,” he suggests.

I laugh nervously. “No… no way. My dancing is for my trainer and my studio only.”

“Isn’t there a video of it?”

I stare, having forgotten this rather important detail. “There is, but that was filmed against my will.” I shake my head. “I don’t - I don’t dance in public.” Definitely not in front of an idol who does it professionally.

“You were fine dancing in public during the show,” he points out. If my mortification shows on my face, he doesn’t comment on it. “If you dance, I’ll sing,” he suggests.

It hardly seems fair, so I cross my arms across my chest and raise an eyebrow. In response, he simply sits on the floor on the fake grass, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him, looking up at me expectantly.

“You really want to see me dance to one of your songs?”

He shrugs. “I performed for you,” he points out.

I scoff. “You didn’t perform for me, you performed for the thousands of fans in the audience.” I cringe inwardly the moment I’ve said it, half-expecting a corny line like But I was only looking at one, but all Taehyung does is slowly smirk a bit more, as though daring me to guess what he’s thinking.

"Oh, come on, don't be afraid to get it wrong," he says smoothly. "I'll help you." He says it very casually but I have a feeling he knows what he's doing, because despite how nervous I am, the one thing I can’t let go of as a professional athlete is a challenge.

“I’m not afraid.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because based on his smirk, he knows he’s hit a nerve. “Dance for me, princess,” he says softly, only halfway back in character.

I would normally die rather than say this, for it’s the most filmy line imaginable. But then again, nothing about this night feels real, so I say it before I can stop myself.

“Make me,” I say, meaning it.

Taehyung stares. Then he shrugs and stands up, dusting off his hands as he comes up to stand behind me. My smirk fades when I realise he’s taking me at my word.

“Like this,” he says, turning me slightly so that we step together. He’s just about a head taller than me; the top of my head reaches his jaw and his chest brushes my back. I do my best not to sink into him and try instead to focus on what he’s doing. “And up, step, step, turn…” Taehyung’s hands fall from my shoulders to brush my arms and down to my hands, so casually that I barely notice until the last step when I turn around and he doesn’t. Instead, our arms crossed and fingers still intertwined, he lowers his head and kisses me mid-turn.

Or I kiss him. I’m not sure. But we kiss, and all I can think is Fucking finally and Holy shit, this is what people mean when they say fireworks. One of his hands drops mine and comes up to my face, brushing my hair. It’s a really, really nice kiss, all lips and butterflies and hormones. I start raising my hand, wanting so badly to run it through his hair when his phone rings.

Taehyung pulls away, face scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, dropping my hand and reaching for his phone. “I need to -”

“Go ahead,” I tell him, taking a small step back, feeling somewhat glad that I get a few seconds to process what’s just happened. He nods and touches my arm before stepping away and answering the call. All I can make out is Jungkook’s name amidst all the Korean. If I have to guess, his bandmates are trying to locate him. I remember then that I’d called Max a while back; I whip out my phone and find a message from him.

Did you call me? We’re at a club one block over and I can’t hear a thing. A few minutes after this message, he’d sent another. Oi, Komyshan. You alright?

I frown, trying to suppress my smile at how perfectly alright I am. I turn around to see Taehyung still on the phone, body tilted towards me but looking away as he speaks to Jungkook. Suddenly, even though he tries to cover it up, I hear my name. It’s the first time he’s said it - Dilara - and with his deep, raspy voice and Korean lilt, it sounds like a song. I make up my mind in an instant and reply to Max. I’m good.

Taehyung’s call ends and he puts his phone back in his pocket before walking up to me slowly. “So… where were we?”

I grin. “You were teaching me how to dance.” Just as he nears me, I take a step back. “Uh-uh. You aren’t going to rescue me from this big, scary tower first?” I ask dramatically, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

He stops in his tracks. For a moment, I’m afraid he thinks I’m a complete lunatic. I know half my friends definitely think that, every time they ask me the time or to pass them a bottle of water, and I respond with a line out of a movie. But before I can step back and hastily apologise, he grabs my wrists in his hands and tugs.

“It’s more fun if I’m the one holding you up here,” he suggests, tilting his head again like he’s asking my permission to change the story. When I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile, he tightens his grip and narrows his eyes. “You can’t escape me, princess.”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay with that,” I murmur, throwing caution to the wind and reaching up to kiss him again. He responds immediately, pulling me even closer as his arms go around my waist, his much taller figure engulfing me as I stumble backwards.

Keeping me close, Taehyung snickers against my lips. “You’re a very easy captive,” he teases, biting my bottom lip and kissing me immediately, swallowing my gasp of surprise.

“I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than you,” I inform him, wrapping my arms around his neck and finally running a hand through his thick hair, returning his kiss. “I could totally get out of this if I wanted to.”

“M-hm?” Taehyung brings a hand up to my face to kiss me deeper and I feel all vestiges of self-control about to leave me. “It’s a good thing you don’t want to, no?” he mutters, backing me into the railing before pulling away. “Still want to be rescued?” he asks cockily, tilting his head towards the drop.

Barely suppressing a smile and feeling my cheeks flushed, I playfully push him in the chest, making him stumble. “I can escape you all by myself,” I remind him, ducking out from under his arm and walking away, my heart skipping a beat when I hear him laugh behind me.

Before long, we end up lying down on the grass next to each other, making out, playing around and just talking for what feels like hours. His grasp on the English language is better than he gives himself credit for; it’s good enough to carry on a conversation, like we’re doing, although he does stop every now and then to recall a word or to ask me for one. I remember how he didn’t speak much at the paddock; does it mean he trusts me a bit more now? It’s strange but I know I do, enough for someone I’ve known for less than half a day, enough that talking to him feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

“You can call me Tae, by the way,” he says after a while, lying down on his back with his shirt unbuttoned and looking up at me. His long hair looks jet black against the bright green grass and, finally giving into my urge, I reach over and brush his bangs out of his eyes from where I’m lying down on my stomach next to him, propped up on my elbows. “Although I like how you say Taehyung, too.”

I bite my lip. “Really? I think I’m getting the accent wrong.”

“Not really. Where’s your accent from? It sounds English, but…” He tilts his head again, squinting slightly.

“Yeah, it’s English, mostly,” I reply, a bit evasively. “I moved to London when I was a kid so my old accent is probably in there somewhere. I think I’ll just call you Tae, though,” I add quickly, hoping to move on. “And you can call me…” I trail off here, because I don’t actually have a shortened version of my name that anyone calls me. “Just Dilara, I guess.”

Taehyung chuckles. “It’s a nice name,” he remarks, playing with the ends of my hair where it’s falling down my shoulder. “Sounds really nice. Dilara.”

I lower my head slightly, feeling my face get hot, suddenly glad I don’t blush. “Thank you. It’s Persian. My mother named me.”

“Is she Persian?”

“Not exactly.” He continues looking at me expectantly, so I give him one more detail. “She’s Asian.” I don’t go any further and I can tell he’s picked up on my deliberate silence.

“You’re Asian?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” His face is unreadable once again, but I can hear the curiosity behind that one word. I picture him trying to place me, taking into account my name, the beige complexion, my facial features and eliminating East Asian countries immediately. I feel my stomach squirm unpleasantly the longer he watches me and I drop my gaze. His slender fingers have paused, a lock of my hair looped around one of them. “And Komyshan?” he asks after a moment, a bit softer.

I bite my lip. “It’s Ukrainian. My stepfather is Ukrainian and… I took his name when I turned fifteen.” This is as far as I can go, at least with a virtual stranger, no matter how infatuated I am with him. I wonder if he’ll Google me after this; Wikipedia might be able to shed a bit more light but the most intimate details have thankfully remained wholly private. I raise my eyes to look at him again, making my stance clear.

His expression, still mostly unreadable, can only be described as thoughtful. He’s truly beautiful, I acknowledge, momentarily diverted. After a moment, his fingers resume their absent playing with my hair. “Dilara is prettier,” he says in a matter-of-fact way, as though coming to a conclusion.

Once again, the sound of my name from his lips is enough to get my heart to skip a beat. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he chuckles, sitting up and gently pushing me back down, his long hair tickling my face as he kisses me again. I kiss him back, sighing into his mouth as he pulls me gently by the waist and, if I’m not mistaken, silently apologising for prying.

I almost forget that it’s a Thursday night before race weekend; being with Taehyung on this balcony with absolutely no one else feels like something you’d see in a movie. We talk well into the night about anything and everything - his tour, my first year in F1, places we’ve visited, funny things that have happened to us. He’s easily one of the most charming and charismatic men I’ve ever met in my life and I can feel myself falling fast and hard for someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger just earlier today.

“So tomorrow is when the race weekend actually starts?”

I nod, mouth full, as I pass him the protein bar. We’re sitting facing each other, cross-legged, sharing a protein bar I found in my bag, the only source of food we have up here. There’s a paper napkin between us on which I’ve drawn a rough sketch of the Suzuka circuit from memory, pointing out the difficult corners everyone’s worried about. Tae watched me as I drew and explained, brushing his hair out of his eyes as his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Tomorrow we get two hours of free practice,” I tell him, already looking forward to it. “We get to just take out our cars and get used to the track. Then we have one more hour of free practice on Saturday morning, followed by Qualifying in the afternoon and then the race on Sunday.”

Tae frowns as he chews. His shirt is buttoned up halfway now and all the sexiness he’d put on a little while back has disappeared. “How do you decide who starts first? In the race?”

“Well, that’s what Qualifying’s for. All twenty cars do the fastest lap they can and the slowest five get eliminated. Then the remaining fifteen do their laps again, and the slowest five get eliminated again. Finally the top ten do their laps one last time and based on everyone’s speed in their fastest lap, we decide who gets to start where.”

“Wow.” Taehyung nods. “Sounds stressful.”

It is, but I don’t say it out loud. It’s an unspoken rule in Formula One - in most sports, I would presume: you never let your competitors see you stressed. Ever. In F1, given that there’s just twenty of us who are friends, teammates and competitors all at once, it becomes all the more difficult but even more important.

The jet lag is properly hitting me now and the concert could not have been easy for him. But it’s clear that neither of us wants to leave. He makes me laugh. So much. It’s insane how witty he is and with my momentary flashes of sarcasm and self-deprecation, we end up laughing so much it starts to hurt. But I don’t lose sight of reality. As time passes, I know that we’re getting just that much closer to probably never seeing each other again.

We’re lying down next to each other on the fake grass while Taehyung absently plays with my fingers, humming something under his breath. It sounds extremely familiar but the drink and the exhaustion is making it impossible to identify and it’s starting to drive me crazy. I think about asking him but that would mean disturbing the moment and nothing right now is worth that.

“How will you get back to your hotel?” he asks after a while.

“My friends are still here in Tokyo, so I’ll go back with them. Whenever they decide to leave,” I add after a moment. I can feel him stiffen next to me and I guess that he’s looking forward to that just about as much as I am. My chest suddenly feels heavy, like it’s closing up, and when I feel my eyes sting, I realise that I absolutely, so badly don’t want to leave. A small part of me notes how ridiculous this is, how extreme my reaction is at the thought of saying goodbye to what is barely even a one-night stand.

Taehyung has asked me another question, but I haven’t heard it. He sits up on his elbows and turns to me and I can see him frown at the look on my face, whatever it is. “What’s - what’s wrong?”

“I -” What do I say? No matter how crazy I’m being, there is no way I can tell him what I’m thinking. I open my mouth and close it again. “It’s - it’s nothing.”

It doesn't work. In fact, his face doesn't move at all. "Dilara." There it is again. He says my name and it sounds like a goodbye song.

I try again. "I…" But it's impossible with him watching me so intently. I look away. "I… don't want to leave," I say slowly, hoping it sounds like I just don't want to leave the city, not that I don't want to leave him.

His face remains as unreadable as ever, but I think I see a flicker of relief in his eyes and the deep breath he takes. He's quiet for a moment where I wonder if I've freaked him out.

"Then don't." He says it in the same matter-of-fact way. I force a chuckle but don’t disagree with him. I look slightly lower; he’s still wearing a bunch of jewellery from the concert. Most of it is pretty blingy, but one of them is a black string with what looks like a guitar pick for a pendant. I want to ask what it is but I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, he’ll hear my voice tremble and then I’ll have to kill myself. So I hook my finger around the string and tug slightly, and he bends his head and kisses me again.

The next thing I know, I’m being woken up by a phone ringing - mine, this time. I frown and look around; it’s still night, I’m still on the balcony, and Taehyung is still with me. At some point, we’ve fallen asleep, me on my back with one leg bent at the knee with Tae beside me, one arm around my waist, one leg on me, and his head buried in my neck. He stirs as I sit up, looking adorably annoyed as he opens his eyes slowly.

I scramble for my phone to see a call from Max. My eyes dart up to the clock on my phone and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s only one a.m.; it’s not great, but it’s not a disaster either. Of course, it means it’s Friday, or -

“FP,” I whisper, realising that no matter how fast we drive to get back to the hotel, if Max and I aren’t in top form for practice, Christian is going to kill us, or worse, kick us off the team. I answer the call, bracing myself.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Hey, Max,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the sleep in my voice. “I’m, uh, across the street from the concert. Are you - are you guys leaving?” I turn to see Tae, now sitting up and watching me with sleepy eyes, messy hair and something else in his expression I can’t identify. I can’t help but smile and shake my head at him, when his phone rings as well. He looks at the screen and swears in Korean before picking up the call.

“Wait, who is that?” Max’s epic hearing comes into play. “Are you with -”

“Can you just tell me where to meet you?” I interrupt him, the thought suddenly occurring to me that he probably thought I was at a party this whole time. He gives me a location about two minutes away from where I am and hangs up, but not before telling me to hurry the fuck up.

Shit. Free practice. I’m not drunk anymore, but I’m definitely running on a lack of rest. I have no idea how tomorrow is going to play out but I know I need to leave now. I turn around to see Taehyung hanging up the phone as well.

“I have to go,” he says, already buttoning his shirt, before I can say anything. “I’m sorry, but my car is leaving and -”

“Yeah, I know. Me - me, too.” I don’t know what to do now. Neither does he apparently. We stand facing each other for a moment when I hear a ping. I know it’s a message from Max, that we need to leave, that we’re going to fuck everything up for our team tomorrow if we don’t. So before I lose my nerve, I reach up and press one last kiss to Tae’s mouth.

His hand snaps up to my face and he kisses me back. It takes everything I have to pull away, turn around on the spot and sprint out of there. I take the steps two at a time and run through the halls, hoping that even the slightest dose of the real world will ensure that I don’t cry in front of the guys who will never let me hear the end of it. Mercifully, by the time I’m out of the building, I’m more stressed about finding their car than anything but fortunately, Lando pulls up right in front of me and Max throws open the back door. I jump inside and the moment the door closes, the car zooms forward.

“You alright?” Alex asks from the shotgun seat.

“Yeah, you were gone a while,” comments Lando, his tone betraying all sorts of theories as to why I was possibly gone a while.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I say, reaching for a bottle of water in between their seats and gulping down about half of it. “Just - just tired.” When they all snicker, I just roll my eyes. “Grow up. I was - it was nothing.” Yep, just Kim Taehyung and nothing else. Nothing at all.

“I’m sure “nothing” was sad to see you go,” he smirks into the rearview mirror, catching my eye and making it clear that at least one of his theories is probably confirmed.

“Well, for your information, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, you just get a hickey instead,” says Max, brushing my hair back from my neck. I slap his hand away just as Lily pops her head up from the back row.

“Oh, leave her alone,” she pipes up, almost giving me a heart attack. “She lived the dream. Believe me, D, you are the luckiest girl in the world,” she slurs, patting my shoulder and promptly passing out.

Drunk as she might be, Lily’s words make me feel a bit better. I don’t believe I’m the luckiest, but the fact is, I did kind of live the dream tonight. Leaving Tae… it was harder than I expected, but if I have to, I’ll take what I can and just hope he doesn’t forget me.

I fall asleep in the car. Deeply, deeply asleep. I’m woken up by an equally exhausted Max and all of us clamber gracelessly out of the car and trudge towards the elevators. It opens to Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s older teammate and resident jock of the paddock, with his trainer Michael inside, both looking sleepy as well.

“Guess we’re all fucked tomorrow, huh,” I comment, rubbing my eyes as we enter, not caring about my smudged mascara. It’s taking everything I have to stay awake - and Max to help me stand upright.

“I can’t believe the traffic,” grumbles Lando, fist bumping Daniel and going to stand next to him.

“Was it just me or were there like ten bellboys in the lobby just now?” Lily mumbles as the elevator starts moving, head on Alex’s shoulder. “Is the President arriving or something?”

“Nah, it’s some celebrity,” says Daniel as my floor arrives. “Some boy band type. That’s why we were down there. I asked for room service like an hour ago…” I tune him out as the elevator door opens and I stumble out, dreaming about my soft bed, when something clicks.

“Wait.” I turn around to see the doors closing. “Wait! What did you say?”

suzuka city

The next morning, I wake up with a mild headache and a desperate thirst. I reach blindly for my phone and realise I’ve woken up before my alarm, an unprecedented turn of events. It’s still nine a.m. though and despite the fact that FP isn’t until after lunch, I force myself out of bed and head straight for the shower, stripping off last night’s clothes on the way. The water is hot and soothing and I end up standing under the shower for a good five minutes, feeling it through my hair before I do anything else.

Last night, despite a revelation from Danny, the only thing I’d managed to do after I entered my room was kick off my shoes, take off my bag and set an alarm before I fell on my bed and passed out. I’d clearly underestimated how exhausted I was, for you’d think that I’d stay up overthinking the obvious, but not only had it seemed far too good to be true, it also made no difference, for Taehyung and I had already said our goodbyes and I’m not sure I can do that again.

But they’re brand ambassadors for Samsung, says a stupid, hopeful voice. Of course it’s them. What are the chances of two K-pop bands roaming around in Suzuka at the same time? But it matters not, for I have not one but two Free Practice sessions to focus on.

I rub a bit of product in my hair and let it air dry as I rummage around in my towel for clothes and make-up. Days without PR are not days where I’m required to wear any make-up but I do anyway, for very few things give me the kind of confidence that perfectly wing-tipped eyeliner does. I don’t have the patience or the will to blowdry my hair today, but I’m satisfied with the natural curls forming so far.

FP’s not for a while but I want to do a track walk this time - Suzuka is not easy on newcomers. And it’s raining today. So I pack a backpack with an extra Red Bull t-shirt and put on normal clothes, along with a Red Bull hoodie on top and head out of my hotel room, switching on my phone to text Lexie that I’m on my way. Before I can, however, I see a bunch of texts: one from Christian, one from Danny, one from Lily, three from Max and a bunch of Instagram alerts. I open Instagram first to see the announcement: Free Practice Cancelled On Friday Due to Rains. Under that it mentions that there’s only to be one FP tomorrow, along with Qualifying - meaning today is completely free.

My first thought is sleep. I’m in front of the elevator when I open the other messages: Christian’s is purely informative, Danny’s asked if I want to explore the city with him and Mike and Charles, while Max has informed me that there’s a FIFA tournament taking place in the game room and if I’d like to join. I’m just about processing that I can’t test my car today, when the lift doors open and I look up to lock eyes with one Kim Taehyung.

He looks just as surprised as I am. A baseball cap perched backwards on his head, he looks up from his phone just when the doors open and his eyes widen, face breaking into a smile that he immediately struggles to suppress. I notice then that he’s not alone; Jimin, with resplendent vermillion hair, has also looked up and evidently recognised me, for he’s looking at Taehyung with raised eyebrows and a Cheshire cat grin. After a moment’s hesitation, I step in and stand next to Jimin, hyper aware of Tae on his other side.

There’s a moment of knowing silence before Jimin asks him something in Korean. Tae clears his throat and replies, and Jimin immediately turns to me with the prettiest smile in the world and says, “Dilara? I’m Jimin.”

I smile back automatically - I don’t know a single person in the world who couldn’t smile back at Park Jimin. “I - I know. We met yesterday.”

“No, I know.”

Okay. “I’m a big fan,” I reply, shaking his hand.

“A big fan of BTS or a big fan of Taehyung?” Next to him, Tae elbows him in the ribs and says something exasperatedly in Korean while I try and fail to hide a smile as I look away, basically confirming whatever Jimin is hinting at.

The elevator continues to descend. “So,” begins Jimin again, “what are your plans for today? Driving?”

“Um, no,” I say slowly, “everything’s cancelled, because of the rain, so no driving for me.” I shrug at him and chance a look at Tae next to him, who’s standing with one hand gripping the railing behind him, clearly listening to every word.

“Oh, so you’re completely free today?” Jimin asks transparently, already looking back at Taehyung with a raised eyebrow. I nod in answer and, as they begin speaking in Korean, I feel something brush my fingers. I look down to see Tae stretching his arm behind Jimin and intertwining his fingers with mine. As the elevator doors open, Jimin steps forward but we stay put, unspoken but clear - and Jimin seems to know it, too.

“He’s ditching us for you today,” he tells me in English as he steps out of the elevator and turns back to us.

“I’m sorry," I tell him cheerfully, not sorry at all, as Taehyung inches closer to me, already hurrying Jimin out.

Jimin grins. "You two have fun," he says knowingly as the doors close. I turn to Tae just as he pulls me to him and, slipping an arm around my waist, lowers his head and kisses me.

I kiss him back immediately, one hand going to the back of his head to his long hair. The elevator moves but I have no idea where to, and I don't care. I can't believe Taehyung's actually here, that I'm actually with him again, let alone making out with him in an empty elevator.

Evidently, he feels the same. His kisses are hungrier than last night and he's holding me tighter, as though he's afraid I'll vanish. Despite that, it still has the same playful, sweet, young feel to it. I run a hand down his chest, accidentally nipping his lower lip when I register hard muscle. While he'd been wearing a loose button down last night, today he's in a more form-fitting white t-shirt and jeans and I finally realise why he looked so much bigger in person than on screen. It doesn’t help to be thinking about this while we’re making out, as I find out when I involuntarily sigh into his mouth and immediately feel his jeans move. Given a choice, I'd do him right now.

But I can't. Eventually, before we both have a PR disaster, I reach for the cap on his head and take it off, pulling away and placing it on my own head. Tae pulls away and smiles down at me, shaking his hair out. "Hi."

"Hey yourself."

"Are you really free today?"

"Mhm." I nod, reaching up and kissing him again, the adrenaline pumping at the thought of spending time with him again. "One hundred percent."

"Do you want to..." He frowns, apparently searching for the word. "... explore? Explore the city with me?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Suzuka City? Um, sure… it's pretty public but we can -"

"Not exactly -" He starts to say when the doors open again and this time, Charles Leclerc steps inside. Taehyung and I immediately take a step back from each other but the damage is done.

If it's possible, Charles looks even more mortified than us. "Oh - oh, my God,” he stutters, his French accent sounding thicker than ever. “I am - I am so sorry. I didn't -"

"Charles, it’s - it’s okay," I assure him, foreseeing an I am stupid situation come to life. Both boys look so awkward that I decide to introduce them just to say something. "Tae, this is Charles. Charles, Tae."

Two sinewy forearms meet and shake hands, and they nod at each other briefly. "So, uh, I guess you won't be joining FIFA?" Charles asks, as Tae places his arm behind me on the railing.

"That would be a no." Thankfully, the elevator stops then and Charles steps out. Before he leaves though, I call his name. "Um… it goes without saying…?"

It takes him a moment to catch on but he nods. "Of course. I didn't see a thing." He nods at Taehyung and leaves. I try to believe him; I love Charles Leclerc, bless him, but I also know that he's one of the biggest gossips on the paddock. If anyone gets wind of what's been going on since last night…

I frown. It isn’t something I’ve given much thought to, if I’m being honest. I’d just assumed that both of us had to keep this quiet due to the public forums we were on. Before I can think any further about this, Tae nudges me to him.

I’ll go anywhere with you. But before this corny spiel threatens to come out of my mouth, I nod. “Let’s do it.” I promise to meet him outside by the lobby in his rental car and get out on the ground floor so that he can get to the parking lot. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less about where we go. Saying goodbye last night had been harder than expected and despite Danny’s big reveal last night, I hadn’t dared to dream that it was BTS that was staying here.

“So?” he asks again. “Do you want to go on a drive with me?”

I stop at the breakfast buffet to grab a couple of croissants before I exit the hotel and it’s only when I see Melissa Nathoo, an F1 reporter, that I realise I’m still in my Red Bull hoodie. She catches me with a cameraman following her, and shoves a recorder at me. “Dilara Komyshan is here this morning, the third driver we’ve spotted so far,” she says enthusiastically into the camera as she falls into step beside me. “Tell me, Dilara, what are your plans on a rare free day on a Formula 1 weekend?”

I rather like Melissa Nathoo overall and the media is not something to be played with, so I wave at the camera before I answer. “It is quite rare,” I agree, “but I don’t know. Not a lot of rain here yet, so I might check out the city?”

“I hear there’s a FIFA tournament going on upstairs in the hotel,” she says. “I know Max, Lando, Alex, George and Carlos are going to be there for sure. Think you’ll make an appearance?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “It sounds fun but I think I’m gonna have to ditch my boys today for - for something else.”

“Girls’ day it is, then,” she says, completely misunderstanding me but I make no effort to correct her. Behind her, I spot a black SUV with Kim Taehyung in the driver’s seat, baseball cap backwards on his head again, pulling into the driveway. He looks so hot, turning the wheel with one hand and surveying the area around him with his smooth, impassive face. He stops the car when he sees me, the slightest smile appearing and making my heart skip a beat.

I say goodbye to Melissa and, aware of the camera following me as I leave, hop into the shotgun seat quickly and slam the door shut. The car is on neutral and immediately moves forward, and we exit the premises.

“Isn’t the city way too public for you?” I ask as I hand him a croissant.

“Oh, thanks. And, yeah, it is. That’s why we’re not going into the city… exactly.” Tae says no more, just looks out the windshield with the same slight smirk on his face as he dares me to ask where.

I don’t take the bait, though. “How’s that croissant working out for you?” When he chuckles with a mouth full of bread, clearly struggling with managing both the wheel and his breakfast, I roll my eyes. “Want me to drive?”

“But you don't know where we’re going.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. I think.”

I give him a look. “Tae, hop out. I’m the professional driver,” I tell him. “Unlike you, I can drive and eat at the same time.”

He gives me a wounded look even as he stops the car. “But… then what do I do?”

“You give me directions,” I suggest. “Oh, and you’re a professional singer - why don’t you sing for me?”

Taehyung snorts and leans his head back against the seat. “I’ve missed you.”

It’s admittedly been eight hours since we’ve seen each other, but I know exactly what he means. My heart gives a jolt when he turns to me, long hair falling into his eyes. I reach over and brush it away before taking off my seatbelt and hopping out, gesturing for him to get out, too. He groans but gets off as well, brushing my waist as he goes around the car, when I see it. Someone, about twenty feet away, squinting at us.

Without further ado, I slide into the car but don’t start it. I’m sure his fanbase is as strong in Japan as anywhere in the world, so it’s no surprise that someone might recognise Taehyung, but now that I think about it, I’ve never seen any of the boys in the media with a girl before. Ever. I sneak a sideways glance at Tae as he straps on his seatbelt, once again with a mouthful of croissant, and wonder if this would bother him. But when he looks back at me and raises his eyebrows, I can’t think of anything to say.

“Um… I should take this off,” I mutter instead, shrugging off the Red Bull hoodie and tossing it into the backseat. “Too recognisable.”

“Yeah, okay. You can wear mine if you get cold,” he offers, gesturing to the backseat. “Now. Ready to go?”

We end up driving outside the city, from what I can tell. The buildings decrease, the crowds of people start thinning out, and the roads become wider. Tae has Google Maps open, but I haven’t the faintest where he’s directing me to. At first I’d thought we were just driving out somewhere, but it turns out he has a specific destination in mind. He refuses to tell me what it is, stating only that he and a few of his group members had been there last year and he thinks I’d like it. I pretend to be annoyed but it only makes him laugh and frankly, I’m more than okay with this arrangement. I love driving, the roads are nice, the weather is beautiful - and I’m with Taehyung on a rare, free day on an F1 weekend.

Despite whatever I’d said about being able to drive and eat together, Taehyung still ends up feeding me bites every couple of minutes, occasionally licking chocolate off his fingers absently. He does end up singing; he starts off by casually humming random melodies, followed by lyrics, some English and some Korean, and while I recognise some of them, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s composing music on the fly. I want to ask, but his voice is the drug I didn’t know I needed and I can’t bring myself to interrupt him. Somewhere during the drive, his hand travels to my knee and rests there, big and warm as he occasionally taps along to whatever he’s singing.

“Tae, are you sure you’re reading the map correctly?” I ask about an hour in. So far he’d been confidently giving me directions, but now he’s peering into his phone, looking concerned.

“I think it’s this way…” he says, sounding rather unsure, looking ahead at a mostly blank expanse of the outskirts of the city. “This place does look familiar…”

I turn to him incredulously. “Every place looks like this place. There’s a town in England that looks like this,” I tell him. “Do you want to ask someone for directions?”

Taehyung looks at me and then looks outside, to see absolutely no one around. “Okay, look, it’s okay. Alright? I remember this place. There was a McDonald’s and then there was… you know, that - that tree.”

I can’t remember being this exasperated and endeared towards anyone in my entire life. “Tae?” I have to consciously resist the urge to add a baby after his name. “Just tell me where it is - or even what it is - and we can take the shortest possible -”

“Found it!” He turns to me, eyes wide and bright. “It’s here,” he says, zooming into the Maps on his phone. “It should be… there!” I look to see him pointing in the distance to a low house with a sloping roof and trees around it. “It’s right there! It should only take us…” He checks his phone and his face falls. “... another twenty-five minutes. Shit, I’m sorry, Dilara.”

But I shake my head. “I do this for a living, remember? I’ll get us there in ten. Seatbelt on.” I step on the gas and zoom. By the time we reach and I bring the car to a halt, Taehyung is plastered to the seat, breathing heavily with his face slightly green. When I hastily put on his hoodie, go over to the other side and open the door, he tumbles out, groaning and breathing heavily.

“Oh, my God.” I try not to laugh as I kneel down next to him where he’s curled up on the paved grass.

“Am I alive?” His voice is muffled. “Is the car still moving? Am I dead?”

“Shut up,” I murmur, brushing grass off his white t-shirt as he continues moaning on the ground. “Tae, you’re okay,” I tell him when he finally turns over on his back and opens his eyes slowly.

“I’m never getting into a car with you again,” he says seriously, which only makes me burst into laughter. He shakes his head and closes his eyes again, long black hair looking darker against the green grass. It suddenly reminds me of last night. I think it does the same for him, because he opens his eyes and doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He tugs on the zipper of my - his - hoodie before finally sitting up and shaking out his hair. He throws on the baseball cap and claps his hands. “Ready?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you?” When he chuckles and nods, I stand up and offer him a hand. He takes it but doesn’t let go, not until we reach the gates and he knocks on it with the metallic clasp. A man appears and, after a brief interaction in what I’m pretty sure is Japanese, Tae ushers me inside and takes me behind the house towards what looks like a large grassy field.

“Where are we -” But he shakes his head and gestures for me to keep moving, with his hand hovering over my back across the expanse of the field. I can hear sounds; they’re soft and high-pitched, immediately reminding me of Angry Birds for some reason. When I look back, the man who’d let us enter hasn’t moved from in front of the house and is instead watching us go.

I stop in my tracks before a small dip in the ground. The sounds are louder now and all the other silence is making me uneasy. “Tae…” He bumps into me and I feel myself backing into his chest even more. “Where - where are we?”

“Almost there.” His hands close around my shoulders. When I don’t move, he squeezes them and nudges my head with his jaw. “Dilara, come on, I promise you’ll like it.” It’s only the sound of my name in his deep voice that makes me move forward. Come on, I think, you drive tiny cars at ridiculous speeds. You can take whatever’s down there.

I keep repeating it to myself as we continue walking, Taehyung’s hands on my shoulders the entire time. Finally, when the field opens up and I open my eyes - I had no idea they were even shut - to see a field of -

“Puppies!” Taehyung hops out from behind me and throws his arms out, looking thrilled, evidently gesturing to the large backyard full of puppies of all breeds. The moment Tae backs out into the field, they yelp and yip and swarm towards him, eventually tripping him, where he laughs and stays fallen as three different puppies start crawling on top of him.

My heart is still returning to its normal speed after the anxiety of finding out what it’s in the mysterious backyard, but now it’s beginning to expand, feeling so full and so happy because I know - I just know - that if there is one more sure-shot thing that confirms that I’m falling in love with Kim Taehyung, a field full of puppies is it.

The feeling doesn’t go away the entire afternoon; in fact, if anything, it only intensifies. The serotonin that the puppies provide is incomparable. There have to be at least twenty of them, some bigger than others, all of them thrilled with the entry of two humans they’ve never met before. The owner of the dog farm only appears once after that, briefly, to check if we need anything but apart from that, Tae and I are alone. It doesn’t even matter; I know I could spend hours here, running around with a bunch of puppies and Taehyung, the only person it seems who can actually draw my attention away from them.

I catch him looking at me sometimes; while it’s mostly with laughter and happiness, once in a while, he gets this strange expression on his face, like he’s just noticed that something’s wrong. Every time he sees that I’ve noticed it, however, he shakes his head and smiles, almost like he’s telling me not to worry about it. I try not to - and succeed, for the most part. Most of the time, we’re laughing and cuddling puppies and taking pictures and videos of each other, silently desperate to commemorate today as much as we can.

Hours later, we’ve calmed down, as have the puppies. I’m lying down on the grass, two cocker spaniels curled around each other next to me and leaning their little heads against my waist. I turn my head to the side to see Tae lying back on the grass as well, a labrador falling asleep on his chest, while he strokes its head and hums a song absently. I recognise it instantly; it makes me catch my breath because he’s honestly the last person I would’ve expected to be singing a Francoise Hardy song - but for some reason, right now, it also feels like it makes complete sense.

I’m about to ask when he turns slightly to see me watching him and gives me a small smile, stretching out his arm towards me. I touch his fingers and run my thumb over a ring on his index finger. “Did we really meet at the paddock for the first time only twenty-four hours ago?” I ask softly.

Taehyung chuckles. “Seems crazy, right? I noticed you immediately, though.”

I frown playfully. “Of course you noticed me. You were talking to me - or at least the other guys were. You wanted to look all mysterious and sexy so you didn’t say anything.”

“Aw, come on,” he says, grinning and sitting up on his elbows as the labrador crawls off, “I liked you. You know I did.”

I roll my eyes before looking back up at the sky and closing them. “Define like.”

“Well…” I hear a shuffle and suddenly the sun behind my eyelids disappears and I open my eyes to see Taehyung on top of me, long hair falling on his forehead and into my eyes. “I wanted to do this -” He lowers his head and kisses my cheek “- and this -” He kisses my neck “- and this -” He kisses my lips “- and a whole lot more,” he finishes with a smirk.

Feeling my face heat up, I wordlessly grab the front of his t-shirt, pull him down and kiss him. One hand goes straight for his hair and the other stays where it is at his chest as I kiss him deeply, never ever wanting this moment to end. Tae lowers himself onto me and kisses me back with the same hunger he’d displayed this morning in the elevator; his hand goes down my waist and up my thigh as I bend my leg, and he feels so steady. I want him so bad. He’s in jeans and I’m in pretty solid leggings, but it doesn’t stop me discovering that he wants me too, at least just as bad.

I bite his lower lip and his grip on my leg tightens - and I swear he growls softly - but before I can be sure, I hear a soft yelp and feel something pushing gently against me. Taehyung pulls away immediately to see one of the puppies standing on its hind legs and using my torso to balance. The sight is so adorable that neither of us can ignore it, and he rolls off me onto my other side, breathing slightly heavily.

I sit up and bring the puppy onto my lap before turning back to Tae, who’s lying back on the ground with one hand covering his eyes. I can’t help but snicker at how disappointed he looks, which makes him look back at me and shake his head, still looking a little pissed. All I can hear Just wait until I get you alone again which, combined with how flustered I am, gets me wondering if we can start it back up again right here, right now.

However, just then the owner appears, saying something in Japanese. Taehyung sits up and replies and I get the gist: it’s time for us to leave. It’s just as well; we’re both hungry and tired so we get up and dust ourselves off - he jokingly messes up my hair as he does so before pulling me back into his chest for a quick hug. As we walk to the car, I wonder how much of the small affectionate gestures he’s even really thinking about. With the quick pecks, the occasional squeezes of the shoulder, I don’t know what worries me more: the fact that they’re seemingly natural or how much I love it.

“What do you want to eat?” Taehyung asks me, in the driver’s seat this time. “Keep in mind it’s just a town so we won’t get anything fancy.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who’s into fancy?”

He shrugs. “You’re in the most expensive sport in the world,” he points out.

I give him a look and reach to pick a blade of grass out of his hair. “Fair enough. But I’m hungry and I know we can’t be seen, so I’m good with anything.”

The drive into town is quieter. Tae drives a little slower than I’m used to but it means longer with him, which I’m good with. We switch on the radio this time and a Post Malone song starts from the middle and Tae immediately starts singing along, his deep voice a whole octave lower than Malone’s. I roll down the window and look out, letting the wind blow through my bangs and closing my eyes. I look around after a few minutes to see Taehyung with one hand on the steering wheel and the other pointing his phone at me.

“Tae!” I exclaim, swatting the phone out of his hand as he laughs and swipes it out of my reach. “Eyes on the road!”

Another song starts and this time I recognise it immediately. I look over to Tae to see him smile automatically as Jimin’s voice comes floating out of the stereo. “Can I just say that this is one of my favourite BTS songs ever?” I tell him and his smile gets wider as his part comes and he starts singing along. Just then my phone pings; I open it to see a message from Vicki.

Grill the grid taping at 4:30 with AT guys. Need you in at 4 for HMU and micing.

I stare, my heart sinking. It had been so easy to forget that, technically, this is a working weekend for me. I briefly consider asking Vicki if I really need hair and make-up done, given that Max is probably going to show up looking like he’s just left the gym and Jehan I know for a fact has not shaved in at least a week. I’m wondering how I can word it without sounding like I’m complaining, when Tae notices my expression.

“Everything okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah, I just… I have a PR thing to do today so I have to be back by four. Which gives us…” I look at the clock on my phone, “... a little over four hours.”

Taehyung nods. “That’s not too bad.” After a moment, he turns back to me. “How important is PR again?”

I chuckle. “Well, it’s part of my contract so I’d say it’s pretty -” But I’m cut off by a jerk. The car jolts and revs momentarily, before going still. “What was that?”

He shakes his head, hands hovering over the steering wheel. “I - I don’t know. I think we hit something -” He takes off his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out, and I do the same. At the front of the car, I see a huge stone that’s stopped the car and is preventing it from moving.

“Damn it. We need to change the tyre.” I turn to Tae. “Do you know how to do that?”

His eyes widen. “Me? Aren’t you the professional?”

“I’m a professional driver,” I clarify. “But I don’t… I’ve never changed a tyre,” I admit, a bit sheepishly. When Tae simply shrugs, I realise we’re essentially stranded. I look around the fairly deserted town area. “Do you think we can find anyone to help us? You speak Japanese, right?” I look back to see him typing something on his phone. “Calling us a cab?”

He shakes his head. “Too risky. I can get the car towed back but to pick us up…” He dials a number and puts it on speaker, holding it between us. I hear what I think is Namjoon’s voice, but the conversation takes place fully in Korean. I hear other voices in the background which I presume is the rest of the band. At one point, he asks Taehyung a question and Tae, after a brief glance up at me, says my name in the midst of a long sentence. In the background, the rest of the boys hoot and Tae shakes his head, fighting a smile. The conversation ends after a few minutes.

“Okay, so Namjoon hyung is coming to pick us up,” he informs me, putting his phone back in his pocket. “We just need to get out of this district - it’ll take ages for him to navigate his way through the dirt roads.” He flashes me a heartbreaking smile. “Ready?”

The towing company arrives - surprisingly quickly - and arranges to take the car back to the hotel. I just about retrieve my bag before Tae pulls me back by the arm out of the way so that the giant tow truck can get the car off the ground. Once the car is gone, we start walking.

Even though it’s not really a surprise by this point, it’s amazing how quickly time seems to pass when I’m with Taehyung. The weather is cool and breezy and the town fairly empty, making it unnecessary to keep our distance too much. We still don’t engage in PDA per se, for it isn’t desolate, but walking together, laughing, and taking pictures and videos of each other doing silly things become so easy, almost natural. It’s the first time in a long while that I haven’t had to worry about photographers, something that’s definitely amplified with Tae, and we get to spend a rare day in privacy.

Taehyung takes so many pictures of everything. He doesn’t have a professional camera with him, something he laments more than once, but his phone seems more than enough as he constantly documents everything, finding even the most mundane object and getting a beautiful shot of it. Even when we’re walking through a canopy of trees and brambles and I’m piggybacking on his back, he has his front camera on and before I know it, snaps a picture.

“The sun’s glare is too strong,” I tell him after a while. I’m lying on my back on the ground where I’d bent down to take a picture of a ladybug. Taehyung is standing over me, hands in the pockets of his jeans, laughing as I point my phone up at him. I think he thinks I’m taking a picture but this moment is too adorable to not record. A few light rays of sun poke out from through the grey clouds behind Taehyung’s head, his dark hair thick and long; he looks like an angel.

“Alright, come on, you’re going to screw up your back,” he says after a while, bending and pulling me up by the hand in one swift movement. I feel a pit of butterflies in my stomach when he pulls me in and casually puts his arm around my shoulders as we continue walking and I show him the video, promising to send it to him.

We finally get to the outskirts of the town where Namjoon is supposed to pick us up. I sit on the pavement and sweep my hair off my neck as Taehyung walks in random circles on the road.

“So, hang on,” says Tae, kicking a stone and watching it roll away. “You’re half-British, right?”

“No, my father was Asian, too. My biological father,” I clarify, automatically clamping up at the topic. “So I’m not really part anything. I don’t know, my mum doesn’t really talk about him.”

“But you grew up in London?”

“Partly. We moved there when I was pretty young,” I say evasively, not wanting to get into how she was essentially kicked out for having a child out of wedlock. “Maybe when I was like eight or nine, and she met Rudy a few months later.”

“Your stepfather?” When I nod, he frowns. “But… what happened to your - your real father?”

I bite my lip. I don’t usually give out details of my family, especially my father. I’ve moved on from it but it’s not exactly a thing about my past that I want the public to know. I look away from Taehyung for a moment, who’s waiting patiently, thinking about how much I want to tell him.

“He, uh…” I wonder why he wants to know. “... he left when my mom got pregnant. Wasn’t ready for parenthood, I guess.” I’m reasonably relieved at how nonchalant I sound. But I can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into me and the last thing I want to see there is any kind of pity - seriously, it would make me livid if I saw even a hint of it - so in an effort to get far away from this topic, I take a deep breath and lean back on my hands. “How long until Namjoon gets here?”

Tae frowns at the abrupt change of topic but doesn’t comment on it. “Well, it took us over an hour to get here so I guess, around the same?”

I sigh and look away, still a bit put off at talking about my father. I can feel Taehyung watching me and I think he knows what’s bothering me. Either way, he doesn’t prolong it. Instead, after a few seconds, I hear a sound come out of his phone which turns again into Tu les garçons et les filles by Francoise Hardy. I look up in surprise to see Tae holding his phone up with a questioning smile on his face, as if asking me if this is okay.

“I can’t beIieve you know this song,” I comment, unable to stop a surprised chuckle.

His smile widens, obviously relieved at my reaction. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop listening to this song,” he says, walking forward and holding out a hand for me to take. “It makes everyone feel better.” As if to test this theory, he pulls me up when I give him my hand, smiling down at me like the sun. “Now... “ He lets go of my hand and turns around on the spot, looking back at me with an exaggerated sexy look. “... we dance.”

Taehyung dancing on stage or in music videos is addictive. He’s so sexy and so talented that I could watch him and nothing else all day. It turns out, though, that when there’s no one watching and no obligations, Kim Taehyung grooves and bops to music like any other person. I laugh but can’t help but join in with him, dancing along to what is truly a very nice song. He looks so happy that I’ve joined in that it makes it all worth it. Somewhere during the song, he grabs my hand and twirls me into his arms, and we sway to an indie French song on a deserted dirt road in Japan.

“You have a really nice smile, you know?” he tells me, touching my cheek with his finger. “I have a thing for dimples.”

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks but I keep looking back at him. He looks angelic; I try to memorize everything - his hair, his smile, his cheekbones, his lips, his jaw, how his hand is firm on my lower back, how his other hand is gripping mine with his slender fingers - before I shake my head and tilt it. “Flirt.”

“Guilty. What does the rest of your day look like?”

“Well, if we ever get back to the hotel, I have about an hour of PR,” I tell him. “Then I have a drivers’ briefing - although since we haven’t even driven around the circuit yet I’m sure it’ll get moved to tomorrow afternoon. After that… after that, I’m free, I guess.” My gaze involuntarily falls to his mouth and I immediately raise it to look back at him, feeling my face heat up.

Tae simply nods, but I just know where his mind’s at, especially with the small smirk appearing on his face. He spins me around once but I don’t make much effort to hide my smile because I’m so sure that I know where his mind’s at, that the moment this morning in the elevator was something we hadn’t seen last night, that the interruption at the dog farm was only momentary.

After that, both of us seemingly silently agree that we need to keep some distance between us, at least until we get back to the hotel. We share a can of Diet Coke that I find in my bag but it’s practically warm so after I empty it on the side of the road, we end up playing a makeshift game of football with the can.

I’m a pretty good racecar driver, but I suck at pretty much any other sport, apart from swimming maybe. As per his own admission, Taehyung is good at tennis - and anything requiring hand-eye coordination, really - but here, on a dirt road with a can for a football, we’re both abysmal.

It’s so fun, though. We completely forget that we’re hungry and stranded; even kicking around an empty soda can be amazing if Tae’s around, apparently. I’ve always known that he’s extremely good-looking but seeing him like this, happy and care-free, flicking his long hair out of his eyes, tall and lithe - he’s otherworldly. I feel like I could watch him forever. I know I’m not a troll, but I find myself wondering more than once what exactly he seehs in me.

“Okay, okay, it’s happening, I’m doing it!” I kick the stupid can, dribbling it around Tae to get to our makeshift goal. I hear him groan and then feel him grab me from behind, stopping me from going any further. “Hey, that’s cheating!” I exclaim over his laughter, secretly loving the feeling of his arms around me.

He does, too, clearly, for he doesn’t let me go even after I’ve stopped struggling. I look up at him, about to say something, when I hear a shout. Both our heads snap forward to see a black SUV with the Hilton logo on it driving up the hairpin, with someone’s hand appearing out of the passenger window. Whoever it is shouts again, waving, and while I can’t make it out, Taehyung does immediately. He straightens up and his hands come up to my shoulder.

“Jungkook is here,” he says, only the slightest bit of surprise in his voice. “Must have pestered Namjoon to let him come along.” His hands fall from my shoulder and he goes back to sit on the pavement, leaning back on his hands, apparently satisfied that his friends are finally here.

“Oh. Great,” I say, sitting down next to him, his hoodie and my bag in hand. By the tone of his voice, it’s pretty clear that the reason Jungkook has insisted on coming along is because of me. We watch the car approach; when they’re about thirty feet away, I can see Namjoon driving and Jungkook in the driver’s seat, the latter grinning far too widely.

Looking at it, I can feel my nerves beginning to act up. “So, um… what happens if Jungkook doesn’t like me?” I ask, cringing when I hear the nervousness in my own voice.

“Then we’re done,” says Tae casually, before catching sight of my expression. “I’m kidding. Jungkook likes everyone. And you’re not that bad,” he adds generously. “Don’t worry, he’s the nicest out of all of us.”

“I’ve heard. That’s why he’s my favourite one,” I add innocently.

“You said the same thing about Jimin this morning.”

“Depends on my mood. For example, last night I was in a very different mood.”

“Sexy and mysterious?”

“More like curious and horny.”

Taehyung chokes, I look back ahead, chuckling. He mutters something under his breath as his arm goes around my shoulder and he kisses the side of my head casually, naturally. My heart skips a beat and I think I see Jungkook raise his eyebrows in surprise as the car approaches and stops a few feet away from us.

Here we go, I think warily, standing up as Namjoon and Jungkook step out of the car. Namjoon waves at me as he walks over but Jungkook gets to me first, holding out a hand. “Dilara! Finally! It’s so nice to meet you - I’ve heard a lot about you,” he adds, looking over at Taehyung, who’s rolling his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say absently, because Jeon Jungkook is even better looking in person than he is on screen. He flashes me a smile and I almost forget to breathe for a moment, but then he looks at Tae and laughs at something, nose scrunching up, and he suddenly reminds me of the puppies we’d been hanging out with an hour ago.

Namjoon appears then and greets me with a nod and a smile, looking very tall and leader-like. His politeness is distinct, like he’s had a ton of practice at it. He asks me with a well-placed chuckle how we managed to get ourselves stranded in the middle of nowhere in the outskirts of Suzuka City. I start telling him that all Tae had to do was let me drive, but we get distracted by Jungkook running after him and leaping on his back. Taehyung catches him effortlessly and they begin laughing and joking around, too far for me to understand what they’re saying.

“Are they -” I start to ask but Namjoon beats me to it.

“Always,” he says knowingly. We all pile into the car after that, once Jungkook discovers that neither of us have eaten anything except a croissant hours ago. Namjoon gets into the drivers’ seat and, thankfully, Taehyung and Jungkook slide into the backseat, leaving the shotgun seat for me. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of sitting in the backseat alone with Tae while both his friends shot us side-eye glances trying to observe us. This way, those two have their fun giggling in the backseat while I’m up front with the most intimidating member of the band so far.

We stop at the first fast food place we see, which ends up being a KFC. Once the three guys put on a variety of hats and hoodies, all four of us shuffle in and dive for the menu; when I realise that everything is written in Japanese, I have to rely on the boys to translate and order for me. Taehyung stands behind me at the counter, hands resting comfortably on my shoulders as he peers at the plastic menu over my head. I’m looking up at him and frowning, trying to decide whether to go for chicken or pork, when we’re interrupted by Namjoon who offers to order for all of us.

The food arrives almost immediately but when we look around and see the few other customers squinting slightly at the boys, almost as if they recognise them, we opt to head out and eat by the car. I walk with Namjoon; I discover pretty quickly that as much as my heart belongs to Taehyung, Namjoon is clearly the most interesting member. There’s something so mature, so intelligent, so attractive about him that I immediately feel like I should have been more prepared before meeting him.

It’s also clear that he knows his group members extremely well. The entire time as we walk back to the car, while he’s speaking to me, he’s also keeping a clear eye out on Taehyung as he talks with Jungkook. Even as we sit around the car and devour the food, I feel increasingly like I’m being vetted for the honour of being Taehyung’s… whatever I am. That throws me into a bit of a tangent as my mind instantly starts wondering what I am to him, what he is to me, what we’re doing, what we’re planning to do -

“You want to throw that away?”

My head snaps up to see Taehyung to my left, two empty boxes and a cup of Coke in his hands. He points with the cup to the wrapper in my hand and tilts his head towards the trash can at the door of the restaurant. I take the hint and jump to my feet, so, so relieved at his arrival, and offer to take Namjoon’s wrappers with me as well.

“So?” Tae asks as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Are they being nice to you?”

I scoff. “Of course they’re being nice. And Namjoon…” I glance back surreptitiously, “... God, he’s so cool. It’s like he knows everything about everything.” I look up to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow, looking amused.

“Should I be worried? Am I going to lose you to my fearless leader?” he asks dryly, just as we reach the trash. “Because I can take him. Probably.”

“Probably.”

Taehyung chuckles and, lightning fast, leans over and presses a quick kiss to my lips. Before I can react, he gestures for me to continue walking, smiling down at me as if nothing just happened, brushing a hand down my waist comfortingly as we start walking back. “They like you, too. At least Jungkook does. And I’m guessing Jimin, too, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t have tagged along today.”

“Ah, good. My favourite and my second favourite,” I say, laughing when Tae scowls. We get into the car again, everyone in the same seats, and it’s barely a five minute drive when Jungkook states that he feels like dessert - and not just any dessert, but a specific Japanese sweet that they’d had the last time they were here. Both Namjoon and Taehyung agree immediately and we drive around looking for any passing store that might sell it.

When we finally do, Taehyung volunteers to get out and go buy them while the rest of us stay in the car. He takes our order (I decline since it’s a race weekend) and walks away towards the shop. I watch him - I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop - as he walks away, how he walks with his hands in his pockets, how his long hair brushes his t-shirt at the nape of his neck, how when he turns his head slightly to look for oncoming cars, his haughty features looking like a statue’s.

“He likes you,” says Namjoon from right next to me, almost scaring the shit out of me. I turn to him to see him looking back at me with a peculiar expression, part-knowing, part… approving? Before I can examine it deeper, Jungkook speaks from behind me.

“He really likes you,” he contributes, leaning forward so that his head appears in between our seats. “He usually never makes any effort with girls. Definitely doesn’t ditch us to hang out with one. I mean, you guys are even wearing matching outfits.”

I notice then that we are, kind of; white top and black bottoms, but I ignore this statement in favour of the one before. His words are practically identical to what Jimin had said to me earlier today. Like Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t sound miffed at all; on the contrary, he sounds almost wondrous, as though this series of events had never occurred to him. I can feel my palms getting clammy and the heat rushing to my face, so all I can say is, “Oh, did you - did you guys have - have plans today?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” says Namjoon dismissively, almost like he knows what I’m thinking. “It’s just good to see him like this. Happy,” he adds for my benefit, raising his eyebrows at Taehyung who’s now started walking back with a small stack of boxes the size of my phone.

Jungkook says something to Namjoon in Korean but I lose track. As I watch Tae walk towards us, I struggle for a moment to pinpoint why Namjoon and Jungkook’s words have suddenly made my insides tight. I should be happy, I suppose. I should, knowing that Taehyung likes me so much, that his closest friends in the world have noticed and more or less approved. But all that is overshadowed by the burning question of why? Why does he like me so much when we’ve only just met, when it’s been an unspoken cloud hanging over us reminding us that this weekend is all we have?

As he approaches, our gazes meet - and his eyes light up. It’s subtle, but it’s there and I know it is because even Jungkook behind me whispers wow before asking me if I’m sure that I don’t want one of the sweets. “Um… no, I - I prefer cupcakes,” is all I can manage to say before looking away from Tae. By the time he climbs into the backseat, I’m almost angry at him for making this so much harder.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Tae holding out an open box filled with what look like Reese’s peanut butter cups. His eyebrows are raised and the hand he’d tapped me with is still lingering against my bare arm, but I suddenly find it hard to look at him. So I shake my head and turn back to look ahead.

As we continue to drive, I find that I can’t look at anyone in the car; not at Taehyung who apparently likes me way more than he should, not Namjoon who seems to know way more than he should, and not Jungkook who definitely seems way more excited than he should be. Truth be told, I haven’t the faintest idea what to do with this information and I definitely have no idea what it is that Namjoon and Jungkook were trying to achieve by telling me. So I just stare out the window at the sky, the trees, road signs - anything to distract me.

“Dilara?” Taehyung saying my name sounds like a song again, like his favourite song in the world. “Any requests?”

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking about the music in the car. “Um…” I turn slightly in the direction of the backseat and shake my head for a moment before looking back out the window. “Not really. Anything’s fine.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence where I can practically feel Taehyung’s confusion at my change in tone. He says something in Korean to the other two, almost accusingly, and while I don’t understand a word of the language, I imagine he’s going What did you two say to her? or something to that effect. I can’t really blame him because, let’s face it, had I been in a similar situation, that’s exactly what I would’ve asked.

My theory is more or less confirmed when, after both mumble answers in equally confused tones, Namjoon looks over at me, asking, “You alright?”

I look back, not wanting to seem rude, and nod. “Yeah. Of course.” I force a smile but I don’t think anyone is fooled. It’s almost too convenient when just a few minutes later, we make our last stop of the drive at a gas station. I mention something about using the washroom and jump out of the car, breathing in the fresh air like my life depends on it.

All I really do, though, is head over the back of the station and lean back against a wall, wondering what the hell to do now and how I can manage to avoid Taehyung for the rest of the weekend when we literally live in the same hotel -

“Hey.”

My heart skips a beat when I see Tae walking towards me, hands in his pockets, long hair falling into his eyes, face as smooth and impassive as ever. I immediately turn towards the wash basin next to me and start washing my hands, letting my hair fall in front of my shoulders and shield my face. “Hey,” I say after a moment, cringing at how fake even the simplest word sounds.

He stops a few feet away from me. “So, uh. My friends told me what they said to you. That I like you." He doesn't stutter around the inadvertent confession. "And that they might have freaked you out.” He says no more, just waiting for me to confirm it.

I swallow, wiping my hands on my leggings and still not looking at him. “Not exactly.”

“Then what is it? Dilara,” he says when I don’t respond. I finally sigh and look him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty at shutting him out. He looks at me expectantly, perfect features betraying only the slightest bit of concern. “Tell me.”

I bite my lip and look at the ground, wondering how to word this without making it a bigger deal than it is. “You know we can’t… you know that nothing else can happen, right?”

“I know.” His response is immediate, accompanied by a small shrug, confirming that he does indeed know that nothing else can happen. And why shouldn’t he? With my calendar, his job, and both our careers in front of us, of course he knows that nothing can happen.

“Then… why do you like me so much?”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t change much, except for a small frown. Hands still in his pockets, he shrugs again. “Since when can anyone control how they feel?” He says it like the most obvious thing in the world and all of a sudden, I feel ridiculous. The affection and adoration in his eyes is clear even to me and I can’t believe I’ve just spent the last thirty minutes essentially icing him out, especially when I know we don’t have much time.

“Not me,” I admit quietly, looking at the ground and then back up at him.

His mouth moves just a bit, giving me a small smile. “Look, I know it’s scary and it’ll be… hard, when it finally happens.” Neither of us needs to elaborate on what ‘it’ is. “But today’s not goodbye. We’ll - we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, alright?”

I look away and nod, taking a couple of steps towards him. He meets me halfway and raises one hand to brush my arm comfortingly as his gaze drops to my mouth and back up to me, as though asking for permission. He lowers his head slightly and pauses, waiting for me to confirm that it’s all good. I get on the tips of my toes and kiss him, feeling him kiss me back immediately. It’s a nice, comforting kiss. For about a second.

He moves his hand to my waist just to steady me but it’s right at that moment that I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slips in and I moan softly, making his grip on my waist tighten. All it takes is one look between us before Taehyung has me pinned against the wall, kissing me fiercely and holding me flush against him. My hands go into his long hair and I pull at it, and Tae bites my lower lip. I snake one hand down between us and loop one finger in his belt loop and tug, feeling his pelvis against mine. His erection rubs against my core and I sigh, ready for him to fuck me right here and now. Taehyung’s hand slips down my waist, down my hip and to my arse when -

“Oi! We’re in public!” Namjoon’s furious whisper makes us jerk apart immediately and look around to see if we’ve been spotted. Fortunately, there isn’t anyone around but even I can’t believe how risky that was. That’s hot. Yes, it is, especially when I look up at Tae to see him looking right back at me, panting slightly, lips swollen and eyebrows together, looking pissed that we were caught.

We trail quietly behind Namjoon to the car and get into our seats. While Namjoon looks exasperated as hell, Jungkook can't look either of us in the eye. My face feels so hot that I can’t look at either of them. I can’t look at Taehyung either, but that’s for a whole different reason. As we drive back with nothing but the radio providing any sound, I look out the window, trying not to think about what just transpired and what is sure to be replicated later today.

I count myself lucky; technically, I can think about whatever I want with no one the wiser. Taehyung on the other hand, can’t think of shit without an erection appearing for his friends and the world to see. I can hear Jungkook murmuring in Korean and Tae responding with short, abrupt replies. Our eyes meet in the wing mirror constantly, both of us now knowing what we want and how soon we want it.

It’s a quarter to four by the time we reach the hotel. If I have any hope of making it to PR on time, I have to leave now. I hop out of the car after Namjoon parks and fluff my hair out, checking for my bag and phone before I head out.

“Hey,” says Taehyung, coming up behind me. I turn to see the other two waiting by the car, trying to pretend like they aren’t paying any attention to us. Evidently, Tae’s noticed them too, for he glances back at them before turning back to me. “Do you have to leave now?”

“Yeah. Thankfully it’s happening here at the hotel, so we don’t have to drive to the paddock.” I bite my lip and say no more. This is the awkward part. How do two people who aren’t dating, who’ve literally just met, who aren’t even friends, say goodbye to each other?

“So, I’ll, uh…”

Taehyung nods, taking my hand and linking his fingers with mine. “Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he agrees. I have the strongest urge to brush his long, thick hair out of his eyes, but I’m afraid it’ll be too intimate here. Taehyung sneaks another look back at his friends, who are now not even pretending to give us privacy, before rolling his eyes and quickly kissing me on the cheek.

I try to fight a smile as I shake my head and leave. I rush to the poolside after that where our thing is supposed to be taking place. Jenna from the PR team is waiting for me at a small makeshift energy station with a transparent pouch filled with make-up products and a hair straightener, heated and ready to go.

Max arrives halfway in and Vicki briefs us both about the game while Max sips on water out of a Red Bull can and I sit painfully straight as locks of my hair fall in soft waves down my shoulders. Jehan and Pierre arrive soon after, everyone in their team hoodies. Jenna is holding up a mirror while I apply a nice brick shade of lipstick when Vicki suddenly exclaims that I’m not in Red Bull gear.

It seems to have occurred to everyone only now, five minutes before the interview. I’m still in a plain white top; I’m about to mention that I probably have an extra team t-shirt in my bag when Max tosses me his hoodie, saying with a very Max smugness that he’s not feeling cold at all. I give him a look but put the hoodie on anyway, kind of liking how nice and oversized it is.

All four of us are seated around a small poolside table, chatting as the production team sets lights and mics around us. I go onto my phone for a moment, secretly hoping for a text from Taehyung. There isn’t one, which is to be expected, so in a rare moment of initiative I text him. I send him the video I’d taken of him earlier today from the ground along with the message Thanks for today, I had a great time.

He replies almost immediately with Day’s not over ;), along with a picture. I download it and need to bite down on my lip from smiling. It’s a picture of me at the dog farm with the puppies: I’m lying on the grass upside down, two labradors clambering onto me, with my hair all dark and wavy on the grass, smiling with genuine happiness and cuddling a third puppy as I look into the camera - as I look at Taehyung.

I’m about to respond with a quick ‘thanks’ but instead, he sends a second picture, then a third, and then about ten more, all of us today with the puppies, strolling the streets together, piggybacking down the canopy. There’s one of us that he sends at the end, a few moments after the others, of us walking together. It’s obviously taken by someone else - most likely Jungkook; I realise it’s from when we’d both volunteered to chuck everyone’s trash after lunch. We’re just walking back, looking at each other, with Tae’s hand disappearing behind me.

I zoom in. I hadn’t even noticed that his hand had been on my back; in fact, it doesn’t even seem as though he’s conscious of it. It looks so natural; even the fact that we are indeed wearing very similar clothes doesn’t escape me this time. We’re walking close together - very close. I remember feeling his chest brush against my arm, feeling his fingers linger on my elbow - but I hadn’t thought about how it would look. We look like a -

“Alright, everyone ready?”

PR forces me to abandon my train of thought and focus. It takes us about an hour and a half; it’s fun, no doubt. All four of us get along pretty well and the games include a Q&A type and a taste test of Japanese cuisine. By the end of it, after it’s confirmed that there’s no drivers’ briefing today, we start to head back into the hotel. I check my phone (not eagerly) to see a message from Taehyung. Ignoring the leap in my chest, I open it.

Once you’re done, come over to 2006.

two hotel rooms

I halt. Now I have no way of knowing who lives in 2006; for all I know, it’s just Taehyung’s room and he’s calling me over for tons of passionate sex after a day of teasing and yearning. If that’s what it is, I’m on board.

But there’s something about the text that makes me think that that’s not all that it is. I try to figure it out; after a couple of minutes, I decide it’s not flirty enough. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered about Kim Taehyung in the last twenty-four hours, it’s that he’s smooth as shit. If he were inviting me over to fuck, I have no doubt that I’d be dripping by the time I got to his door.

I have to ask. But not too pointedly. My fingers hover over the screen as I chew at my lower lip before finally typing out a response. What’s in 2006?

Taehyung replies in under a minute. Food and stuff.

I frown, having learnt nothing from this incredibly vague text. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s being vague on purpose. I replay the events of today in my head, specifically the moments I spent with Jimin, Namjoon and Jungkook. I remember them looking at me like a specimen they never saw coming, but I also remember the huge, boxy smile on Tae’s face each time I joked with any of them.

I exhale. Spending a Friday evening hanging out with members of BTS: it’s a goddamn dream - for some. I know of millions of people around the world who’d literally murder me to take my place. But nothing about it is exciting me; in fact, I think this is the most stressed I've been all weekend.

I briefly consider making an excuse. Tomorrow is Qualifying after all; I can sneak away to hang out with the other drivers while they obsess over FIFA, dull as it sounds. But I do want to see Taehyung again, so badly. I finally make my way up to the twentieth floor, the entire time debating the possible outcomes of this situation in my head, before I reach the room. I can hear muffled noises from inside, both music and voices. I find I can’t physically press the doorbell, so I text Tae instead.

I’m outside. Can you come out here for a second?

Ten seconds later, the door opens and Taehyung steps out, still in the same white t-shirt and jeans, black hair thick and long, looking so incredible that I have to consciously try not to launch myself at him. His face automatically breaks into a smile at the sight of me and my heart skips a beat.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and stopping a couple of feet in front of me. “Everything okay? Oh, hey, your hair is different,” he comments, taking a straightened lock in between his fingers.

“Yeah, for PR. Um…” I take a deep breath, folding my arms across my chest nervously. “Who else is in there?”

Taehyung glances back at the room and when he turns back to me, it’s clear that he’s immediately caught on to what’s bothering me. “It’s six of my friends.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Really. Exactly six?”

He smiles, knowing I’m not fooled. “It’ll be fine. They’re looking forward to meeting you,” he says, dropping all pretense.

That doesn’t make me feel better at all. My face must show this, for he immediately comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulder. “Dilara, there’s no pressure. You don’t have to. But…” He shrugs. “It’ll be fun.” When I don’t respond, he squeezes my shoulders gently. “Come on, you’ve already met most of them and it’s been fine. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” I say honestly. The only ones I actually haven’t met at all have been Hoseok and Yoongi, but meeting all of them together? But I can’t say no to Tae, not when he looks this hopeful. “Just… just six friends, right?”

“Right. Oh, wait, Jimin and Jungkook are at the gym, so it’s really only four,” he adds helpfully.

I frown incredulously. “Jungkook is the one person I actually know in there.”

Taehyung bites his lip and holds his arms out wordlessly. I take the hint and step in, wrapping my arms around his waist as he hugs me back, head resting against mine and rubbing my shoulder with one hand. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he says softly.

I say nothing, revelling instead in his scent and the feel of his lean torso and strong arms around me. This is our first hug, I realise, and I hold him a bit tighter, resting my forehead on his shoulder. “You’ll be there the whole time?” I murmur into his t-shirt.

I can feel him smile as he nods. “The whole time,” he confirms. “Until we leave, that is. Which will be… early?" he guesses.

That makes me laugh. I step back and ruffle his hair affectionately. “Sure. As long as you stay by my side.” I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. “Let’s do this.”

Tae rolls his eyes at my theatrics but I see him smile again and it’s all worth it. He rings the doorbell and Namjoon opens it, immediately noticing me and greeting me loudly. “Oh, hey. Hey, Dilara’s here,” he calls out, beckoning me inside and shutting the door behind me. “There’s food and… well, tons of gummy bears on the table,” he adds, pointing at the coffee table.

I step in to see Seokjin on the phone in the corner of the room, Yoongi and Hoseok in front of the television, the latter laughing his head off at something before noticing me. All of them wave and call me over just as the doorbell rings again. While Jin waves at me with his free hand, we both turn to see Jimin entering, hair wet and newly washed, smelling like strawberries. The moment he sees me, his eyes widen and he turns to Taehyung, who’s standing with his back against the wall and watching me, with an impressed look and a wide smile before coming over to me.

“Hey, what’s Verst- oh, Max Verstappen?” Namjoon’s voice from behind me makes me do a double take. I turn to see him pointing at my torso and I realise he’s talking about the hoodie I’m wearing, the one that has Max’s name printed on the back.

“Hey, it’s good to see you again,” he says easily, hugging me around the waist as if we’ve known each other for ages. Jungkook follows close behind, waving enthusiastically before his gaze shifts to Namjoon and he says something. Within seconds of meeting me, everyone simply goes back to their own conversations.

“Oh, yeah,” I answer, tugging at the hoodie. “I had to borrow his hoodie for PR. I left mine in your car,” I tell Taehyung. There’s a short but unmissable moment where everyone’s eyes flit to Tae, with Jimin and Jungkook clearly fighting smiles and Yoongi rolling his eyes. But I’m only looking at Taehyung, who’s still standing against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His face is still the same, smooth and perfect with the small smile as he watches me interact with his bandmates, but I swear I can see his chin tilt up and jaw harden for just a moment.

Fortunately, at that moment the doorbell buzzes again and he goes to get it, and everything seems to go back to normal. I take a step back and go to stand next to Namjoon who’s helping himself to a sushi roll, an exasperated smile lingering on his face. “Um,” I begin in a low voice, “what was that?”

His smile gets just a bit wider as he looks up at Taehyung across the room before looking back down at me. “Nothing. Just Taehyung… and his jealous tendencies,” he says, chuckling quietly. With a knowing raise of the eyebrows, he sweeps past me and heads towards the TV.

It turns out Namjoon is bang-on. When Tae returns, he looks like his normal self, coming back up to me with the same small smile and asking me if I’m okay. Jungkook and Jin join us and even as everyone continues talking, I feel Tae move to stand closer to me, sliding a hand down my waist to rest low on my hip. It’s subtle but I can feel a heat between my legs. I decide to experiment.

“Oh, I should text Max and tell him I have his hoodie,” I say nonchalantly, tapping my phone on but keeping all my attention on Taehyung. He doesn’t disappoint. I’ve barely opened my chat with Max as Jin and Jungkook drift away, telling us to come to the TV, when Tae casually moves to stand behind me. Both his hands are low on my hips now as he looks over my shoulder. For a moment I think he’s looking into my phone, but the next second his lips are at my ear, brushing against my hair.

“Hey.” His voice almost makes my knees buckle. It’s the deep, low baritone that I’ve come to know and be obsessed with over the years but hearing it this close while his fingers grip my hips and his pelvis brushes against mine, and especially when I can hear that slight edge in his voice, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for. “Come sit with me?”

I literally cannot think of words. Instantly forgetting all about Max, I follow Kim Taehyung to the couch where everybody else is. It’s a k-drama; I don’t recognise it, but whoever has the remote immediately turns on the English subtitles when I automatically take a seat on the floor next to Jungkook, the one person apart from Namjoon I’m slightly comfortable with at this point. Taehyung, after repeatedly offering me the one empty spot on the sofa, sits right behind me and I lean back against his legs as I try to catch up.

There’s no spotlight on me, thankfully; they don’t go out of their way to include me in conversation but they don’t ignore me either, and it ends up being just the right balance. Jimin comes after a while to sit on my other side, smiling so prettily at me that it feels like my heart will stop.

Sometime later the doorbell rings with a package for Park Jimin; everyone turns to see him holding a pink cardboard box that I recognise as the hotel bakery’s. To my surprise, he comes straight back and places it in front of me. He opens it with a flourish to reveal six cupcakes, each with a different coloured frosting on it. “For you,” he says proudly.

It takes me a moment to realise he’s talking to me. “M-me?”

“Yeah, Jungkook told me you like them.”

Before I can ask, Jungkook shrugs on my other side. “You didn’t have dessert with us and you said you liked cupcakes.”

It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me which is why, even though I can’t eat sugar due to it being a race weekend, I pick one up and take a bite. It’s really good; I almost consider risking it and eating the whole thing but I know Lexie would end me, so I just take a second bite and turn around to offer one to Taehyung. It’s just an excuse, though; the gesture is so unexpected that I just want to share it with him - do your friends really like me? His eyebrow raise and secret smile answers it - I told you they like you - as he takes a bite from the cupcake in my hand. By the time I’ve turned around, all the other boys are helping themselves which is just as well.

“It’s amazing,” I tell Jimin, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks when he flashes me another winning smile. “Thank you.”

Nearly an hour later, after everyone has moved on from watching TV, I notice that I’ve lost track of time completely. I’ve been sitting at one of the smaller coffee tables with Jin who, after having informed me that I’ve been using chopsticks wrong my entire life, is attempting to teach me how to use it right. I look up for a moment to see Taehyung sitting on the window seat with Namjoon and Hoseok, while Jungkook lounges on his lap and scrolls through his phone.

By the time Jin finally succeeds in teaching me a crude version of chopsticks usage, we’ve both devoured two boxes of maki - the only thing I know Lexie will be okay with me overindulging on on a race weekend. Jin leans back in his chair and sighs loudly and my eyes automatically find Taehyung again. He’s in the same place but Jungkook is no longer in his lap. Instead, Tae is leaning back against the window, one arm resting above his head while the other holds his phone, and his legs are spread out again, as though inviting me to come sit on his lap. His gaze meets mine right then and he gives me the tiniest smirk, almost as if he knows what I’m thinking.

I shake my head just as Namjoon joins us. “Aren’t you warm?” he asks, sitting on the arm of Jin’s chair and popping a gummy bear into his mouth.

I frown and look down, realising that I’m still in Max’s hoodie and something clicks. “Oh… I hadn’t noticed.” Hesitating for a moment, I take it off the second I see that Taehyung’s looking. As expected, the smirk gets wider, as though he’s suddenly happier… or satisfied.

It’s so hot - and adorable - that it occurs to him to be jealous. It’s past nine now, which means I’m almost done with twenty-four hours of waiting since meeting Kim Taehyung before I can officially start to pursue him. My thoughts are getting dirtier by the minute and I’m just waiting for a signal from him that it’s okay to leave.

Ten minutes pass and nothing changes. Taehyung’s still sitting with his lap looking inviting as hell and all my attempts at walking across the room, touching Jungkook’s shoulder and even wrapping Max’s discarded hoodie around my shoulders don’t work. Finally, when Tae’s alone at the food table, I fall back to Plan A.

I come up from behind him and run my hands up his arms casually, resting them on his biceps. The moment I touch them, I feel the familiar heat between my legs again. Focus, Komyshan. Tae turns slightly to see me behind him, head lingering next to his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice deep and sexy as ever.

“Hey. So, um…” I move closer to him, not wanting anyone to overhear, “Tomorrow is Qualifying and I have to be well-rested and up early, so…”

It takes him exactly half a second to catch my drift and another to drop the gummy bears in his hand back into the box. He turns to face me, leaning back against the table. “So…?”

He wants me to say it. Sneaky little shit. Taehyung’s casual confidence coupled with his laidback position, not to mention that goddamn smirk, makes me want to simultaneously choke him and ask him to -

“So… I should head out,” I tell him, mimicking his nonchalance.

“You’re leaving?”

“Mhm. Long day tomorrow.”

“Sounds like you should be good and tired to get a good night’s sleep.”

“I think I can figure something out.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches slightly again and I know it’s working. “I thought we had some… alone time planned.”

“I don’t want to take you away from your friends,” I tell him. “And besides…” I take a small step closer to him “... I’m not really sure what to expect during… alone time.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Or rather, he doesn't respond with words. Instead, his smirk gets just a bit more pronounced and he just continues looking at me, almost like he’s picturing it. Just when I feel like he’s literally undressing me with his eyes, he gives me a small shrug and an innocent smile. “Whatever you want.”

Aaaand we’re done. I want a lot - but I’m not about to tell him that. “Good. So it’s settled, then?” When he doesn’t say anything, I play my last card. “Or you can stay and I can just go take care of it myself.”

All vestiges of a smile leave Taehyung’s face. He grabs my wrist with one hand and his black hoodie with the other and turns to his friends with a completely normal expression. There’s a general dry outcry that we’re leaving so soon, followed by Jimin yelling something in Korean and everyone laughing. I look up at Tae to see him avoiding their eyes and fighting a smile when Jin shouts “Have a good night!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and waves to them as we head out the door. Just to add to the drama, I pull him out by the hand, walking backwards and winking at the boys as the door closes behind him.

The walk back to my room is a blur. All I know is that we’re hurrying as much as we can, taking great pains to not draw any attention to ourselves until my room finally comes into view. My keycard is ready in my hand and I can feel Taehyung’s hand hovering over my lower back and I know he’s desperately resisting the urge to touch me until we’re inside. The second my door opens, I turn around and walk backwards, not bothering to turn on any lights other than the dim ones already on. The door closes behind him and I immediately hook my fingers around his belt loops and pull him towards me the same moment that his hands go up to my face and he lowers his head and kisses me.

“Finally,” he murmurs against my lips, echoing my exact thoughts, reaching one hand into my hair and pulling me closer to him with the other on my waist. Why haven’t I realised until now just how tall he is? Or how lean his torso is, or how his arms feel like the steadiest things I’ve ever felt around me? I open my mouth to let him in and sigh into the kiss, unable to help myself. I run one hand through his hair, his long, thick, sexy hair, and pull, making him grunt and move his hand down my waist and hips to my arse.

“Clothes off,” I say softly, pulling away for the briefest moment to take my top off over my head. Taehyung does the same with his t-shirt and I realise that seeing Taehyung with an unbuttoned shirt last night came nowhere close to seeing him like this, half-naked in the semi-darkness with a look of hunger in his eyes as I look right at him and unhook my bra, letting it fall on the floor next to him.

He has me pulled flush against him in a moment, kissing me harder than ever. Our hands are everywhere and our kisses are all lips and tongue and teeth; an entire day’s worth of tension and longing has finally come forth and neither of us are willing to waste even a single moment of it. My hands travel down to his jeans and I begin unbuttoning them, brushing against his hard abdomen, before I slip one hand in and feel his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing me even harder and moving us to the couch where I push him down and climb on to straddle him, lowering my head to kiss him again. Without thinking, I roll my hips forward and he groans into my mouth, pulling away and resting his head back against the sofa for a moment. I look at him - no, I gaze at him, never ever wanting to forget this sight. His hair is falling into his eyes, his jaw is clenched and mouth parted slightly as he catches his breath.

Taehyung kisses me again, moving his lips down my jaw and to my neck, immediately finding the exact spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. He sucks on it as one hand moves to cup my breast, the other firm on my hip. I bite my lip to stop myself moaning too loudly, clutching at his hair and feeling his erection harden even more against me.

“Fuck, Tae,” I whisper. I need him now. He feels so right against me that I find myself not even caring if I’m being too obvious about how much I want him. I palm him through his boxers and he groans again.

“Shit, Dilara,” he mumbles against my collarbone. “God, I need you, I -”

I pull away to stand up and peel off my leggings, standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear. His eyes rake over my entire body and I revel in it. I take a step forward and he reaches for me but instead of straddling him again, I drop to my knees in front of him.

Taehyung bites his lower lip. “Dilara -”

“I want to,” I interrupt him, reaching for his erection. His eyes shut involuntarily but he opens them again.

“You - you really don’t have to -”

“I know,” I tell him and look him in the eye. “I’ll stop if you want me to… but I don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “Fuck, where have you been all my life?” he sighs.

I grin and reach for his jeans, pulling them down. He raises his pelvis off the couch so I can take them off completely along with his boxers. His erection springs free and my eyes widen at his size. I just know my jaw is going to get a workout from hell and just the thought of it makes me so fucking wet that I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him once.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut immediately and he swears, his back against the couch and his hands clutching the fabric of the seat. I run my tongue along his tip and continue stroking him, watching him the whole time as he slowly comes undone. Somewhere along the way, I link my fingers with his and squeeze his hand. His eyes open to meet mine and he gets the hint, reaching for my hair and grabbing it hard. I moan in sweet pain and he swears again, getting close. I suck him off until my jaw hurts, until he’s louder than I’ve ever heard him and he finally finishes in my mouth, warm fluid coating my tongue as I continue stroking him slower now, letting him ride out his high.

I pull away, swallowing and wiping my mouth as he gets his bearings back. He opens his eyes and looks down at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “Come here,” he says softly, helping me back up onto his lap. I straddle him again and he kisses me, deep and long, holding my face in one hand and pulling me close to him with the other. His hand is big and flat on my back as I kiss him back, wanting him, needing him so badly.

Almost as though he’s read my mind, he suddenly stands up and, without breaking a sweat, carries me straight to the bed and drops me on it. He comes up to kiss me once, biting my lower lip softly, before moving down to my neck. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. He runs one hand down my torso and abdomen to reach my core and presses against the cloth. His sharp intake of breath tells me that he can feel just how wet I am.

He pulls my underwear off and, before I know it, sinks one finger into my folds. I whimper; it feels so fucking good, finally, finally, to have him inside of me like I’ve been thinking about all day. He slips another finger in and my back arches. “Fuck, fuck,” I moan, clutching my pillow as my knees bend automatically.

Taehyung grunts softly and kisses me, his long hair falling into his eyes and onto my forehead. “Can you take another for me, baby?”

“Yes,” I say immediately, biting my lip in anticipation as he slips a third finger into me. His thumb goes to massage my clit and I’m so close, so close… “God, Tae, I’m gonna -”

And I do. It’s like an explosion when I finally come and feel him slow his fingers down slightly as he lets me ride out my high. I open my eyes slowly to see Taehyung watching me, eyes blazing and jaw clenched, biting down on his bottom lip. He lowers his head to give me a quick kiss before his eyes flash. “Think you have one more in you?” he asks as he moves lower down my body and settles between my legs. He kisses my inner thigh before running his tongue along my folds but I know I can’t take this anymore.

“Taehyung,” I whisper, sitting up on my elbows, “I can’t. I just want… I just want you. Now.”

“Are you sure? I just want to make you feel good,” he says, frowning with what I realise is concern. “I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Mm, you won’t. Please, Tae,” I add, and apparently that’s what works. Taehyung kisses my inner thigh once again before he gets off the bed and goes to pick up his discarded jeans next to the couch. I can’t help but just stare at him as he does, long hair and lean body completely on display. Just for me, I think. Mine.

He returns with a condom and a smirk. “Always ready,” he quips, making me laugh. He puts it on and climbs on top of me, lining himself up at my entrance. Brushing my bangs off my forehead, he asks, “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

“I will,” I promise, reaching up to kiss his jaw. Tae nods and enters me slowly; both of us groan in pleasure and I fall back on the bed, opening my legs further and taking him in until he bottoms out. He’s big - that I knew the moment I’d taken off his boxers. It hurts, but not in a bad way. Another sigh escapes my lips as he pulls out to enter me again, and again, until we establish a rhythm.

“Fuck, Dilara, you feel so good, baby,” groans Taehyung, dropping his head onto my shoulder as he goes faster. I grip his bicep and wrap my leg around him to pull him in as he turns to capture my lips in his. I kiss him back; it’s messy and desperate and full of sighs and moans as he goes even faster. His hand comes up to grip my breast, lips still against mine, and I clutch at his shoulder, feeling my nails dig into his skin.

“Oh, my -” I can’t even finish my sentence before he hits the spot and I hit my second orgasm of the night, so much louder this time as I fall back on the bed again. Taehyung’s still going but I can tell he’s close by the way his grunts are getting louder and his jaw is clenching harder. It’s another ten seconds before he slams into me a final time and finishes inside the condom, supporting himself with his hands flat on the bed.

We stay there for a few seconds, both breathing in what just happened. Then, Taehyung raises his head to look at me and presses a soft kiss to my mouth before climbing off me and going out to dispose of the condom. He comes back in a few seconds, beautifully naked, and climbs back onto the bed next to me. We lie there in comfortable silence, our hands intertwined between us, while I think about how we were lying exactly like this just last night on a hotel rooftop when we’d met for the first time.

As the high slowly dissipates, I feel goosebumps erupt on my arm from the AC. Taehyung notices too, and wraps an arm gently around my waist. “Cold?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.

“Just a bit,” I answer, turning onto my side and kissing him. He kisses me back and, contrary to the roughness of what just happened, this is slower, deeper, almost loving. I brush my thumb across his cheekbones as he pulls me closer, eventually pulling me on top of him. Straddling him again, I pull away and sit up, getting my first good look at Kim Taehyung, naked. In my bed.

He’s beautiful. Unlike Jungkook who’s all bulk and muscle, Tae is much leaner, like a tennis player or a Formula 1 driver even. His torso is long and slender, while his collarbones arch to become lean biceps, sinewy forearms and slender fingers currently resting on my thighs. I look up to meet his eyes again to see him smirking up at me, like he knows exactly what I’m doing.

“This is my favourite hair on you,” I tell him, brushing his bangs out of his eyes slightly. He flicks his hair back as though out of habit. “Black… suits you.”

“Yeah?” His hands rise up to rest on my hips. “Just black?”

“The grey is a close second,” I agree after a moment. “The dark blond, too.” The fact of the matter is that Taehyung looks fantastic no matter what his hair looks like, but I can’t tell him that. He’s looking at me far too intensely; it’s making my face heat up. I suddenly feel conscious; he’s too gorgeous himself to be looking at me with this much reverence. “I need to… clean up,” I say finally, climbing off him and the bed, gathering my hair and slipping on my underwear as I search the floor for something to wear.

“My t-shirt’s right there,” he says, apparently knowing what I’m doing. I turn to see him watching me with a content smile, hands behind his head. Wordlessly, I pick it up and put it on, waving to him as I walk into the bathroom and close it behind me.

Once I’m in, I lean against the door and exhale. I can still smell him on me, on my skin, on his white t-shirt that reaches the tops of my thighs. I shut my eyes; it’s not that I can’t believe I just had sex with V of BTS - it’s that I can, even though just twenty-four hours ago, I was at a BTS backstage party waiting for him to just talk to me. I turn my head to look at the mirror and wince as I move closer.

My hair is a mess - no surprise there, considering how much Tae kept running his hands through it, tangling it and pulling at it. My stomach leaps at the memory of it. My lipstick, which had stayed through the entire time I’d been with the band, has now finally disappeared as well - no surprise there either. Moving closer, I brush my hair off my neck to inspect the most critical aspect of our session; I can’t stop a smile from appearing on my face. At the side of my neck, a couple inches below my ear, is a brand new hickey, blooming red and big.

I touch it gingerly and, almost as if it’s a signal, my inner thigh tingles. I know what it is before I’ve checked; right on the inside of my left thigh, barely three inches below my crotch are two smaller hickeys. When I check, there’s another on my right.

He’s marked me, I realise. The thought makes me feel strangely reassured. It doesn’t feel aggressive or possessive; if anything, it gives off a sense of… desperation, almost. As though he doesn’t want to miss the chance to prove that I’m -

“No,” I whisper out loud. I can’t let my thoughts go down this road, not tonight. I close my eyes, forcing myself to think about literally anything else, when I hear a soft humming of Tu les garçons et les filles again.

He’s on the bed where I’d left him, but he’s put on his boxers and is scrolling through his phone. The moment he sees me, he ceases humming and his face breaks out into the same boxy smile that regularly breaks millions of hearts around the world.

“Don’t stop,” I tell him, climbing onto the bed next to him and settling down on my stomach. “Sounded nice.”

Tae raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You like it?”

“I always like hearing you sing,” I say honestly, my heart skipping a beat when he smiles and drops his gaze. “What? That can’t be the first time someone complimented your voice.”

“It’s not,” he admits, “but people usually prefer Jungkook or Jimin.” He says it in a matter-of-fact tone.

I shrug. “Yours is the sexiest.” He smirks, like I knew he would. When I bite my lip and raise an eyebrow, it widens into a grin.

“Will I get to see you drive tomorrow?” he asks, tugging on the ends of my hair.

“Definitely. I don’t see how they can postpone anything any further even if it pours all day,” I add, resting my head on my hands and looking up at him. “I really hope it doesn’t, though. We only get one practice session and Suzuka is hard enough for a rookie without the track being wet.”

Taehyung frowns but doesn’t say anything, brushing the back of his hand light against my cheek. My eyes flutter shut for a moment at his touch as I try to savour it as much as I can and not think about tomorrow. I’m just about to ask him if he wants to switch on some music - anything to get me to stop stressing before I really start stressing - when my phone pings, first once and then in a succession of pings.

I raise my head and turn around to the backpack I’ve been carrying around all day. I get up, leaving Tae lying on the bed, and retrieve it to see a series of messages from Lexie, all apologising for being MIA all day because of her food poisoning and that she hopes I’m ready for tomorrow. I text her back immediately, telling her to chill, when I see a notification from Max pop up just as a pair of arms wrap around my waist and my back meets a nice, warm, naked chest.

Taehyung lowers his head onto my shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of my neck, his long hair tickling my cheek. “Dilara,” he says quietly, and it sounds like his favourite song in the world. “Dilara,” he says again, this time in a whisper, grazing my ear with his teeth. My breathing stutters a bit but I don’t want him to stop; I close my eyes and sink back into him, tilting my head slightly to give him better access. I feel his breath on my ear and shiver.

“Do you want to order some food?”

My eyes snap open and I snicker, elbowing him in the ribs and pulling away. He laughs his deep, open laugh and I swoon - internally, of course. “I can’t eat anymore,” I tell him, shaking my head and leaning against the table. “I’m driving tomorrow so I have to, you know. Stay light.”

Tae nods understandingly. “Alright, I’ll just get food for me. Is that alright?”

“No, you are forbidden from eating if I’m not.”

“Hilarious. Oh, can you have ice cream?” he suggests. “Come on, who can say no to ice cream?”

I scoff. “All twenty of us getting into a car tomorrow. Food is bad enough, but sugar is absolutely the worst. Why do you think I said no to dessert in the car today?”

He frowns. “But… you ate the cupcakes,” he points out. “Why -”

I give him a look. “Well, firstly, I actually only had, like, two bites. I strategically offered bites to you and Jimin and Jungkook by which time the rest of you had finished the box. And secondly… well, of course I ate them. Jimin was so nice to get them for me,” I add, looking at the floor self-consciously. “Actually, why was he being so nice?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, clearly knowing what I want him to admit. “You ate the cupcake even though you’re not supposed to be eating sugar. Why were you being so nice?”

“Fair enough.”

He simply grins. “That’s me. I think Jimin likes you, though. He’s such a… how do you say it? Flirt?”

I laugh. “He’s cute. And, you know, my favourite member.”

Taehyung gives me an unimpressed look as my phone pings again and I go back to checking my messages. They’re mostly from Lexie and Christian, the latter of whom has sent me a screenshot of some data from last year’s race in Suzuka.

“Something wrong?” Taehyung asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kissing my cheek with ease, as though he does it all the time.

“No,” I sigh, “just stuff to look over for tomorrow.” I try to keep the anxiety out of my voice but I know I haven’t succeeded. Instead of random encouragement, Tae just holds me a bit tighter and rests his head on my shoulder, swaying slightly to the music. I close my eyes and sink back into him, gripping his arms and swaying along.

“I dare you to do something!” We sing together all of a sudden and I turn around to see him singing just as dramatically as I am. He takes my hand and, just like earlier today, spins me and pulls me in by my waist and we sing the entire chorus and the next verse together until his long hair in his eyes and broad shoulders get too much for me and I get up on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and try to kiss him.

Except I don’t reach.

It seems to take Taehyung a moment to realise what I was trying to do before he bursts out laughing. He overdoes it for sure, even when I pick up my t-shirt from the floor and throw it at him. “You’re so cute,” he tells me, smiling fondly and coming up to me to wrap his arms around my waist even as I half-heartedly try to push him off. He lowers his head and kisses me and, without warning, places a hand under my thigh and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist out of instinct as he turns around and takes me back to the bed. I’m on my back for just a few seconds before I flip us over and straddle him.

“My turn,” I tell him, flipping my hair over my shoulders and bending over him, tucking my hair behind my ears just as my phone rings. I groan and drop my head onto his shoulder before I climb off, chuckling at his protests. I pick up the call to hear Max Verstappen’s voice.

“This better be really important,” I state, placing a hand on my hip and looking back at Tae apologetically.

“It is,” says Max confidently. He sounds like he’s with someone when he says, “You want to go get a snack from the restaurant? It’s probably empty by now.”

I frown incredulously. This is important? “I’m, uh…” I trail off, turning and looking at Taehyung again, who’s now lounging on the bed looking like a Greek statue. I get the overwhelming urge to run my tongue up his lean, hard torso and force myself to focus. “... busy.”

I can almost hear Max raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Busy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Like last night kind of busy?”

“Alright, Verstappen, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. Bye,” I say loudly, interrupting his joking response. I shake my head and turn around to see Taehyung now off the bed and walking towards me.

“Hey,” he says, kissing me quickly on the mouth, “do you mind if I take a quick shower? I mean, I could go back to my room and do it and then come back to -”

“Go take a shower, Tae,” I say, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, and smacking his arse for good measure. He laughs and disappears into the bathroom while I settle on the couch in Tae’s hoodie that’s lying on the table and open up Christian’s messages.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m going through the last one, my laptop open on my side with a picture of the track on full screen. I’m frowning, trying to calculate something in the third sector, when the doorbell rings. I get off the couch and open it to reveal Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo, both in hoodies and joggers.

“Hey, we came to see if you changed your mind,” said Max, not even trying to lie. His gaze falls to your lower half and he smiles. “Looks like you didn’t, though.”

I’ve just remembered that all I’m wearing is an oversized hoodie (and it’s Max and Danny), so I don’t really care. “Afraid not.”

Daniel shrugs. “We can order in, too,” he suggests, his trademark grin appearing on his face, telling me instantly that Max has told him all about last night.

“That’s really not a good idea,” I insist. “In fact, why don’t you -”

“Hey, Dilara, I was thinking of ordering dessert in case you want -” Taehyung’s deep voice comes from behind me and I turn around in horrendous anticipation to see him in nothing but a towel around his waist, looking up from his phone, first at me and then at my guests.

Max and Danny are evidently speechless - and so am I, but for different reasons. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been mortified, but I’m too distracted by the discovery that apparently the only thing that’s more attractive than Kim Taehyung is Kim Taehyung straight out of the shower. My eyes roam shamelessly over the beads of water still on his body, his wet hair falling into his eyes, how low that towel is…

I remember I have company and look back at Max and Danny, shrugging innocently. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. His smooth, impassive face reveals the slightest smirk before he turns around and nonchalantly disappears back into the room.

I turn back to the boys, both of whom have a mixture of amazement and embarrassment on their faces. “You know what,” says Daniel finally, clapping Max on the shoulder, “you do seem really busy.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you in the morning,” agrees Max quickly, winking at me before I nod and shut the door. I walk back into the room to see Tae still in his towel, scrolling through his phone as he stands near the edge of the bed. I go up to him purposefully, shedding the hoodie and t-shirt on the way. He looks up at me and his eyes widen in surprise but I don’t stop.

“That was so hot,” I tell him in a low voice, reaching up to kiss him with one hand in his hair and undoing his towel with the other. If Taehyung is taken off guard, he doesn’t really show it. His arms go around my waist and he pushes me down on the bed, kissing me back.

This time, it isn’t quite like before, where we were just desperate to finally be together. No, this time, we go slower. Tae takes his time which, as it turns out, elicits a whole lot of other responses from me. He fully takes charge, too; it’s subtle and I don’t even realise it’s happened until I’m on my knees while he’s sucking on my neck and rubbing furious circles on my clit and I’m practically begging him to fuck me. He pulls me back flush against his chest as he begins a rhythm, each thrust making me whimper until we both finish almost at the same time and I can feel him pant against my back and kiss my shoulder.

We stay in bed after that, under the covers. We talk about indie music; he tells me he writes it and I inform him that I listen to it, followed by a bunch of recommendations. I tell him about the time I was at a music festival back home and was waiting for my friends at the smallest, least crowded stage and how much I don’t regret that decision to this day. He tells me about the first song he wrote and produced and how the songwriting process makes him feel lonelier than he’d imagined. I, after privately considering, end up telling him about my mother, and how Rudy Komyshan treating me like his real child is the only reason I’m able to race today.

Taehyung kisses me at that, a gentle, protective kiss, holding my face and brushing his thumb across my cheek. He doesn’t say anything but then again, he doesn’t need to. We lie next to each other and at some point I fall asleep, smelling lotion and feeling hard muscle underneath my fingers.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm alone.

Thank you for reading. Check out the link for Part 2 in the description, and don't forget to drop a review :)

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